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Issue 55.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1996. ; Revi for Retig ous i, a fo .m for shared res ea on on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis UniversiD, 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@SL UVCA.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. ©1996 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religiou$ Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY/AUGUST1996 *VOLUME55 *' NUMBER4 contents 342 symposium - part 3 Religious Life: Directions for a Future Albert Dilanni SM reviews three stages of religious-life renewal and sets forth those areas for future efforts. 365 expanding vision Internationality: Consciousness Raising and Conversion Janet Malone CND highlights six stages of consciousness raising in the process of a religious group's becoming purposefully international. 373 Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community Finian McGinn OFM presents the challenge of multicultural diversity in religious-life communities and some directions towards resolution. Review for Religious 388 396 new life It's Summer! A Letter to Young Religious Robert P. Maloney CM encourages those who are young to enjoy and use well the gifts of this summertime of life. Emerging Forms of U.S. Religious Life Marlene Weisenbeck FSPA identifies the motivations and the relationships between charism, mission, and ministry in the formation of new communities and styles of consecrated life. 414 425 340 431 436 witnessing I Guess and Fear Donald Macdonald SMM suggests some clarity points in the midst of current confusions in religious life. Force of Habit William Jud Weiksnar OFM reflects upon the sign and symbol value of the simple brown tunic of a Franciscan. departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: General Chapters: Current Legislation Book Reviews .~uly-August 1996 prisms FVhenT/~7 is "enough" enough? It is the common question: Did you get enough to eat? enough to drink? Is the room warm (cool) enough for you? Enough is a hard concept to define in our practical living. If people's perception of their own worth as persons is tied up in their work, when have they worked long enough or hard enough? Some people find it difficult to turn over responsibility to others or "to retire." Enough seems not to have a place in their vocabulary. Others at a younger age let work consume their days and evenings and weekends. They, too, seem oblivious to the possibil-ity of freely chosen limits. We have heard the phrase "get a life" and we know that it can be a criticism to the quick for such people. Besides questions of food and drink and work and rest, enough plays a similarly difficult role in determining security. When are there more lights outside and more locks and alarm systems than we need for reasonable secu-rity? When do we have enough money for travel and its surprises and emergencies? When is there enough money put aside for care of the elderly--others or ourselves? The danger with a money-focus is, as Jesus describes in a story, that our barns are never quite big enough to hold our piled-up wealth. When we consider healthcare in the industrialized countries, we find again the difficulty of knowing when enough medical care has been called upon and when we are moving into extraordinary and sometimes minimally enhancing medical procedures. The subtlety of enough allows us morally to steer our way between the always immoral assistdd suicide and the decision to refuse any extraordinary means to prolong life. Review for Religious For each of us, in our uniqueness, to know how to live enough and move enough and have being enough remains a rich grace-gift to be prayed for. We call the gift which helps us to say "enough" Christian discernment. To be a person who discerns demands that we be people attuned to the working of God's Spirit in our lives. Discernment is not a process of decision making that we stir up on a moment's whim. When we think of people (per-haps including ourselves) as being attuned to God, we mean that they have a serious and ongoing relationship with God in prayer and in reflecting on the Scriptures and God's workings in the world. Such people find themselves growing in a sensitivity, as all lovers do, to the ways of seeing, the desires, and the ways of acting of the one loved. That kind of sensitivity is the power source of our Christian discernment. Because sensitivity is involved, it is not something we learn by rulebooks although Jesus reminds us that "I have come, not to abolish [the law and the prophets], but to fulfill them" (Mt 5:17). As we can appreciate, the process of discerning is not a sometime thing that we can blithely manage at short notice unless we are sensitized lovers of God. The dailyness of prayer and Eucharist are privileged ways for us becoming lovers growing in sensitivity. Today we seem to live with the question of Enough? in many areas of our lives, and our personal decision about enough does not come easy. We need to enter deeply into our Catholic faith and experience Jesus' promise of "another Paraclete." Yet there is one instance of enough which remains a paradox. Can we ever grow enough in God's love that our sensitivity for discernment can say "enough"? David L. Fleming SJ NOTE: On our inside front cover we provide our E-mail address. For some of our domestic and international subscribers, it may give convenient and helpful access to our editorial office. ALBERT DI IANNI Religious Life: Directions for a Future symposium part 3 Today we often hear a question seldom asked before Vatican Council II: "How is it going with your congre-gation?" And We know immediately that the questioner is interested in vocations. Nearly always the answer is: "Quite good in the third world, but bad in the first world." After thirty years of renewal efforts, the average age of most congregations founded before the 20th century is in the 60s for male l~eligious.and in the 70s for female reli-gious. Patricia Wittberg speaks of "catastrophic decline," "collapse," and "probable demise," and Markham, of "mas-sive denial." In the 1960s religious women in the United States numbered over 200,000. They have suffered a 55 percent decline and now number about 90,000. Given their average age we can expect further decline. Male reli-gious have suffered a decline of over 30 percent. We can hedge about these cold facts, but they are a cause for deep concern. A moderate decline in vocations would be man-ageable, but such a steep decline demands that we ask searching questions about the process of renewal. There are disparities within the vocation situation. In the first world, some communities are attracting significant numbers of candidates. They are the newer communities like Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity and the Albert Dilanni SM last wrote for us in September-October 1993. He is now superior of the Marist novitiate, Our Lady of Mercy, at 15 Notre Dame Avenue; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02140. Review for Retigio'us Legionaries of Christ. In Mexico the Legionaries are referred to as the. new Jesuits and are subjected to criticisms similar to those launched against Jesuits in an earlier age. (A new group with a similar name, Cruzados de Cristo, has sprung up in Mexico and is enjoying similar vocational success.) The Fellowship of New Religious Communities had sixty-three new Catholic congrega-tions on its 1993 mailing list. There are at least two dozen oth-ers) Most of these groups are traditional in theology, but creative in developing community structures and prayer forms and in their integration of the laity. Even in the third world, vocational growth is not homoge-neous. The .main areas of growth are sub-Saharan Africa and parts of Asia, especially India and Indonesia. Brazil, on the other hand, is either stable or on the decline. The crucial factor seems to be that the churches of Africa and Asia, often surrounded by strong Muslim groups, tend to be more "conservative" of classical Catholic practices and spirituality, while the Brazilian church more than all others has adopted liberationist tendencies. Three Stages of Renewal I believe that we are in the second' phase of a three-step pro-cess in the renewal of religious life since Vatican II. The first step was the explosion immediately after Vatican II, an explosion pro-voked not only by the council but by the secular cultural revolu-tion. It was a time for rejecting all categories and trying to live in the in between. It was a time'of high experimentation in theology and lifestyles, of reexamination of all institutions including the family, traditional morality, and etiquette. In religious life we moved away from whatever seemed rigid, artificial, and stiflingly traditional, in favor of what seemed more dynamic, new, and life-giving. No longer defensive regarding the democratic ideals of the West, we sought to integrate them into our congregational existence. We dismantled structures that were in place for cen-turies, emphasized interpersonal dialogue and individual needs, decentralized authority, created leadership teams, redefined poverty, chastity, and obedience, abandoned institutional aposto-lates in favor of small-group work with the poor or the marginal, and reinterpreted community in terms of sharing quality time together. It was the best of times and the worst of times. It was a time of great creativity especially in the founding of new types J'ul),-./lugust 19~6 Dilanni ¯ ReligiousLife The second stage of the renewal, is the time of the winnowing fan, the stage of sober reassessment. of apostolate--Joan Chittister often stresses this and women's role in it--but also a time of great confusion, of loss of identity, of abandonment of loyalties, of many departures and few arrivals, of decline in morale and fear of the future. The second stage of the renewal, in which we presently find ourselves, is the time of the winnowing fan, the stage of sober reassessment. Recent books and articles from all "over the ideo-logical spectrum are calling for self-criticism and evaluation of the directions taken .by the renewal: Avery Dulles, Elizabeth McDonough, Joan Chittister, Patricia Wittberg, Martin Tripole, Mary Jo Leddy, Judith Merkle, David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, and on and on. Almos~ all urge a move beyond the individualism apparent in the so-called "liberal" model. They speak of the need of "common vision" and a "corporate sense" and "criteria by which the validity of their lives can be measured." The authors do not agree on the solution. Some call for a deeper retrieval of the community's charism (if it has a charism); others, for a real communal commit-ment to helping the poor and the oppressed; and still others, like MaryJo Leddy and Joan Chittister, for a move beyond liberalism to something even more radical or revolutionary. The third stage in this renewal process will be, I believe, a time of greater peace, when the good features of the new have been institutionalized and its excesses discarded and Catholics once again view religious life as a way to follow Christ in a more literal way. In this symposium, however, we are still at the stage of sober reassessment, discussing whether we need to shift into a new gear and or just stay on cruise-control. I approach this challenge not in despair but in hope, a hope that arises out of reading the his-tory of religious life. Before the French Revolution (1789) there were 300,000 male religious "in Europe. Forty years after the Revolution this number had decreased by more than two-thirds to 70,000. But in the 1830s a great revival began. Some 600 new Roman Catholic religious congregations were founded in the 19th century, more than at any other period, and the actual number of religious attained historic new heights. The Jesuits, who had been suppressed from 1773 to 1814, flourished as never before. A similar reflowering is not impossible in our time. Review for Religious o The contemporary crisis of religious life has been very deep. It is related to the .attempt to restate the Christian faith for an age called postmodernity. We have been adapting with great strain to a new kind of need for God, not a God of the gaps who fills in for the weaknesses of science, but a God at the center of life, a God who provides depth of meaning and answers our ultimate concern. Directions for a Future: Background Considerations ., George Aschenbrenner SJ felt that in my 1994 book I had set down criteria that might guide a reevaluation of the renewal and an effective move to the future.2 So for the present symposium he assigned me this topic: What are the criteria for judging whether a .proposed change of direction or structure in religious life will be a profitable change? What are the signs of a good change? I have interpreted his question as asking: In what directions should we move, and why? But, before we can entertain the question of directions, some background considerations are necessary. First, we must realize that the theological backdrop to religious life has shifted dra-matically. Up to thirty years ago, all religious, irrespective of their style of life, shared a theological consensus that dated back to the early church. Whether they were hermits, monks and nuns, medieval mendicants, apostolic Jesuit-type religious, or religious of the newer 19th-century type, all religious viewed themselves as primarily engaged in saving souls, their own and those of others. Christianity in general and religious life in particular were given a mystical and eschatological interpretation and were concerned with union with God and "the four last things." Intellectual activ-ity and teaching and care of the sick were important, but were subordinate to a concern for eternal salvation, the "one thing necessary." Since Vatican II, however, chinks have appeared in this higher unity, this sacred canopy, and basic questions have been asked about the meaning of Christianity and the place of religious within it. While the media and some religious focus on controversial issues of church polity like clerical celibacy and women's ordination, the deeper questions are: How should we conceive of our relationship to God? Does salvation begin on earth? What is the meaning of the kingdom of God? Within the mystical-eschatological emphasis, the dominant metaphor for women's congregations was that of becoming a ~uly-Aug~st 1996 Dilanni ¯ Reli~ous L~e "spouse of Christ." To some people of today, this may seem intol-erably sexist, patriarchal or "kyriarchal," but the image contains a core of meaning valid for both men and women. It underscores the need for an affective union with Christ and with a personal God. Mystical language was its common coinage. Commentators spoke of "spiritual marriage" and "transforming union." Many books were written about progress in mental prayer, contempla-tion, and the three stages of the interior life. Today a hunger for spirituality is still alive among religious, witness the popularity of directed retreats and the Ignatian Exercises. It is part of what David Tracy calls an "amazing resurgence in spirituality.''3 Nevertheless, our consuming interest has been elsewhere. Whereas previously religious sought to move outward from a deep interiority, we have preferred to begin with exteriority. Like behaviorists, we have been convinced that action shapes hearts and that congregational renewal would come from movement into relevant apostolates that reexpressed our charism. The "spouse of Christ" model was criticized as a "beautiful soul" spir-ituality, and its practitioners were compared to birds preening themselves. Salvation was brought down to earth, and holiness was linked with wholeness--becoming a well-integrated person-- and with service to others. "Crazy" saints like Philip Neri (who did outlandish things out of humility) were out. The fasting of Catherine of Siena and others has been understood as "holy anorexia" (Rudolph Bell's term), a subconscious protest against male domination. Unless mortification was relational--a sacri-fice involved in one's work for others--it was conside~'ed unhealthy. Better to work for and with the poor than to fast in adoration of God. As a result, a new metaphor for religious life replaced spouse of Christ. It was the image of the prophet at the cutting edge of social and political issues,, breaking new ground in the liberation and humanization of peoples, especially through systemic change in favor of the poor and oppressed. After the Jesuits' dramatic shift toward faith and justice, the charisms of most other active congregations, no matter how diverse, were suddenly found to center on these same concerns. The Roman synod of 1971 called social justice a "constitutive" part of the Christian apostolate, and many interpreted this as meaning that it was to be a necessary component of each apostolate. Most recently, however, a reac-tion has set in. Jesuits like Avery Dulles and Martin Tripole, while Review for Religious agreeing .that social justice should be a fundamental concern of religious life, resist the notion that it is an essential ingredient of each Jesuit apostolate. It is now reported that even Pedro Arrupe SJ, its principal protagonist, had second thoughts about how it was absolutized.4 Strangely, the metaphor of religious as social prophet did not attract numbers of vocations, certainly not in the first world. Marie Augusta Neal admits this and attributes it to fear of its inherent difficulty and risks. But, historically, danger did not deter but rather whetted the appetite of people intent on the religious adventure. Nineteenth-century missionaries like St. Peter Chanel boarded rickety ships on precarious one-way trips lasting eleven months to preach to peoples who had not yet emerged from can-nibalism. Could the resistance to the new prophetic stance be due to something other than fear? Could it be that, however admirable, it is not perceived by Christian consciousness to be at the center of the religious project? In what follows I will set out three directions in which we must move in future efforts toward renewal. The first two are sociological and could apply to almost any social group or cor-porate entity. They are actually dialogues with Wittberg and with Nygren and Ukeritis, whose studies I find revealing. The third direction is theological and addresses some of the questions just raised. Directions for a Future The first direction: An effective religious community must be visible. Recent authors have sounded the alarm that religious life, especially among women, is disappearing as a visible corporate entity, as an institutional presence. Joan Chittister writes that religious communities have "done a great deal to foster the prophetic individuals in their midst," but "at the same time, they have done very little to function as prophetic groups.''5 Elsewhere she dramatizes: "Religious must ask themselves what they stand for as a congregation and who knows it, because if nobody knows it we don't stand for it." She continues: "When we stood for edu-cation, health service, and the care of innocent children, everyone knew it. When we stood for insertion of Catholics into the white Anglo-Saxon world, no one called that political, and everyone knew what we were about, Religious congregations stood as bul-j~ uly-dug~st 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life warks against ignorance, illiteracy, disease, abandonment, and secularism. We turned our resources in those directions. Now we have the best-educated groups in the world, each member of which is regarded with professional respect, and the most invisi-ble congregations.''6 " This is an important point that should guide future planning. If as religious we desire truly to influence others and attract new candidates, we cannot act as disembodied spirits, noncorporeal freedoms, anti-institutional angels. We must witness not only as individuals but as a collective unity. And to do so we must be vis-ible as a collective unity. Clearly, religious were more visible as members of a group when they worked in institutional commit-ments and wore an identifiable religious habit. When they left these institutions and took on secular jobs in social service, when they declined the habit and were absorbed into the crowd, they tended to lose corporate impact of all kinds, even the new one of being socioreligious prophets. "The more its members became unidentifiable," says Wittberg, "the more difficult it became for any order, as a corporate entity, to fulfill its newly defined prophetic role.''7 Another major cause of the current invisibility of religious congregations has been our readiness to embrace contemporary democracy's postmodern move toward absolute egalitarianism and nonelitism. Eager to abdicate every hint of triumphalism, we have become levelers. This is seen in the way we have interpreted Lumen gentium's universal call to holiness, which, according to Wittberg, hit like a bombshell and robbed religious of a sense of distinctive identity. It had this effect because theologians and reli-gious interpreted it politically rather than theologically or spiri-tually. "We are all called to holiness," said the commentators, emphasizing the word all, as if the point of the doctrine were to rule out all talk about more or less effective roads to holiness or about religious life being a way of perfection aspiring to something higher. But is the political point the central thrust of the decla-ration? Should we not place less stress on the "all" and more on what we are all called to, that is, holiness? Should religious not be less worried about standing out (or failing to stand out) and more concerned about redoubling their efforts to achieve holiness within their life and lifestyle? In fact, what happened was that the idea of striving for personal holiness dropped out as the cen-tral concern for religious. Review for Religious The reason for this overemphasis on the political may be due to the church's relative inexperience with democracy and moder-nity. In her sociological study of religious orders; Wittberg con-tends that the 19th-century religious congregations, sharing the restorationist mentality of the church, never really came to grips with the modern thrust toward liberty, fraternity, and equality. Rather, these congregations retreated into a fuga mundi (flight from the world), reinstated 17th-century practices, and lived in a time warp for years. In America this was exacerbated because most religious sprang from and ° worked in isolated immigrant subcultures. It is perhaps because of this that, when Vatican II opened the doors, the congre-gations went overboard in their embrace of the new forms of participative democ-racy. We eagerly adopted its absolute horror of distinctions for fear of elitism and played down all differences between religious and laypersons. As a result we vanished as visible corporate groups purporting to be on a different road to holiness.8 But can this continue? Can the concept of religious life long endure in an atmosphere of hyper-egalitarianism? Would reli-gious life ever have sprung up at all if some persons did not desire to be different and follow Jesus in a more literal way? Wittberg describes religious life as a form of virtuoso or (less frequently) heroic religiosity. Practitioners of virtuoso religiosity are those within a religion who want to go the extra mile. They want to create a zone of intensity within the field of holiness. They p(r-ceive themselves as different and, to some degree, as exemplars. Prospective virtuosi come together, says Wittberg, "in the expec-tation that their participation will help to maintain some collective good--the health and welfare of the destitute, or the conversion of heretics, or even the establishment of a utopia of saints on earth that can serve as a beacon to others.''9 Christianity and other religions have always spawned such virtuosi. Luther dissolved the vows of the monks and declared everyone equal in the quest for holiness, but soon Protestantism was crowded with Pietists, Mennonites, and Anabaptists. Later it was the Shakers and today the Pentecostals. Recently, new virtu-osi groups have mushroomed Within Catholicism: the Legionaries of Christ, the Missionaries of Charity, the Lion ofJuda, Les Fr~res We must witness not only as individuals but as a collective unity. July-August 1996 DiIanni ¯ Religious Life de. St. Jean, the Opus Dei, the Neo-catechumenate, the Focolare, the Sant' Egidio community of Rome, Comunione e liberazione, and so forth. All model themselves on the early Christian com-munity in Acts or the seventy disciples commissioned by Jesus (Lk 10), both of which seem to represent Christianity lived in its highest purity. Like the early Christians, these new groups believe that forming Christians is not easy, but requires being challenged to live one's baptism; requires a formation process, a "way" (some form of RCI& program), a sustaining community, and a partici-pative liturgy. We must accept the fact that as religious we desire to be dif-ferent and follow Christ in a distinctive way. If we are to influence others, to witness as prophets, our commitment must be in some way public and Visible. If this is perceived as a higher way, so be it. Chalk it up to diversity. We cannot blur all distinctions out of a fear of elitism. All groups that aspire for something more are in danger of elitism and must be warned against it, but their enthu-siasm should not be crushed. Members of religious congregations purport to live their Christianity in a way that is differently orga-nized, more regulated, more intense, and at times more difficult than that of other Christians. They will have an impact on oth-ers to the degree that their sacrifice is real and their corporate witness is visible. Whether through all this they always succeed in becoming men and women of God is another question. The second direction: Effective religious community should be inten-tional as opposed to merely associational, and this demands a transcen-dent corporate goal and adequate commitment mechanisms. An intentional community is a community with a purpose for the sake of which members are willing to make significant sacri-fices of their individual preferences. Examples are sports teams and the military. An intentional community is different from an associational community, which admits a plurality of goals and calls for a lesser degree of sacrificing of individual preferences. Intentional communities have a strong sense of direction. This is due to at least two things: a transcendent corporate cause and a set of commitment mechanisms, that is, common sacrificial prac-tices that reinforce commitment at a level deeper than rational persuasion. We will consider these two elements in turn. A transcendent corporate goal: Discussing visibility, we have already dealt with the need for a goal, for being clear on where the Review for Religious group stands. Here I make the further point that the goal must be one that transcends the community itself. I say this because some authors seem to believe that the goal of a community can be inter-nal to ~the community itself. Edwin Keel and Susan Beaudry, for example, propose a third ruling metaphor for religious life, beyond those of the spouse of Christ and prophecy. For them, religious life is best presented under the image of a journey together toward God. They maintain that "what religious have been seeking, whether they realize it or not, and what religious community can offer, is neither surrogate family life, nor friendship, nor the intio macy~of small groupings, but faith companionship on the spiritual journey." 10 They describe the common spiritual journey in terms of a discovery of one's personal vocation before God and an integra-tion of it with that of others. Spiritual maturity is achieved by getting in touch with what Jung calls the Self, which lies deeper than the ego and is the place where we truly meet God. The old perfection model of holiness with its rigid rules tended to flat-ten individual differences and to foster immaturity. The journey image with its new and democratic skills--province assemblies, mission statements, corporate reflection processes, confrontation techniques (all now permanent parts of religious life)--may seem messier, but is psychologically healthier. Community life is like a family going on a trip in a crowded van, constantly negotiating, sometimes bickering, always arriving, never reaching. Some of these spiritual-journey elements are valuable; but I wonder whether the journey can be the dominant metaphor of religious life. Does it not tempt us to remain in an associational model of community, which, to believe tl~e experts, does not endure beyond one generation?I' Does it not come too close to what Gerald Arbuckle has called the "therapeutic" community? Can it generate the needed intensity and direction? For all the benefits of psychology, are not psychological self-absorption and an overly intense regard for the internal aspects of community part of the cause of our present decline? Wittberg says, "'The dominant language of religious life., shifted from theological constructs to social and psychological paradigms,' that were inad-equate to explain what was distinct or desirable about the lifestyle."~2 This has gone so far that in some congregations com-munity members who desire entry into a new local community must first present a written evaluation of themselves from the July-August 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life community they are leaving. In other congregations the .concern for personal autonomy and consensus has at times resulted in the election of effete leaders at the local level. Is there nota middle ground between the not-in-touch-with-their-feelings religious of the past and some present-day religious who have become too self-involved as individuals or as community? In order to form an intentional community, people must come together for the sake of a cause that transcends both themselves and their experience of journeying together. A clearly articulated spiritual or apostolic vision and ideal must draw them on. Each member must partially relinquish his or her personal, vocation in favor of the vocation of the congregation. One's personal project must be trimmed in favor of the community proiect, Older reli-gious tell stories of pioneer days in schools and hospitals when they roomed together in classrooms and toiled almost slave hours. They may stress the pain and suffering, but from the glee with which they tell the stoW we know they would not have exchanged it for the world. Their reward lies in having been part of some-thing greater thanthemselves, protagonists together in a great religious adventure. Commitment mechanisms: Historically, intentional religious groups have been sustained in their resolve not only by clear tran-scendent goals but also by a number of practices that sociologists call commitment mechanisms. These are practices, customs, or rituals that reinforce motivation by solidifying the affective ties between the members. Sociologist Benjamin Zablocki contends that the commitment mechanisms discarded by congregations after Vatican II were actually essential for community survival.~3 The primary types of commitment mechanisms were first developed in the monasteries and then adapted to other forms of religious life. They are (1) common rules and rituals, (2) boundary maintenance, (3) shared sacrifices, and (4) mortification practices. 1. Common rules or rituals include the daily horarium and schedule, spiritual exercises, meals :in common, reading at meals, and grand silence. They are found in the constitutions and in books of customs. 2. Boundary-maintenance mechanisms Fiave the purpose of maintaining a clear distinction between members of the group and other people. Examples of such mechanisms are: wearing a common habit, living together in cloistered convents, bestowing new names, and reducing the visits of family and outsiders. (Today Review for Religious the lack of vocations has spawned the phenomenon of associative membership, which renders the boundaries more fluid and lessens the sense of identity. Most recently commentators are beginning to bemoan an excessive fluidity. Their plea is that such a religious congregation cannot long endure unless there is a strong core group of full-fledged members who are strongly distinguished from others.) 3. Shared sacrifices arise out of involvement in common works of the congregation. Historically there was no stronger source of cohesion than shared sacrifices in behalf of an institute's common apostolates. 4. Mortification practices include such customs as culpas, the chapter of faults, receiving monition, fasting on certain days, taking the discipline, wearing a common habit, and wearing a veil. These worked to strip off an old identity in favor of a new one and in the process helped to cement people into a higher unity. In reviewing these mechanisms I am in no way advocating a return to all or to any of them. On the other hand, religious life cannot prosper without some structures that reinforce motivation at the affective level. To move beyond individualism we need to invent common rituals and symbols that speak to us at the level of the subcon-scious. We cannot build community by teaching a charism only conceptually while leaving it to each member to embody it in his or her own way. If our religious life has no face, our communities will end up being only comfortable hotels. In replacing outdated commitment mechanisms, we must employ new psychological insights and provide adequate room for personal differences. But these new mechanisms must have some relation to past ones. In creating them we must carefully study the older structures to see what purpose they had in the mind of the founder, to discover what aspect of the charism they expressed. The new structures must be more suited to our times, but they must also connect with and incarnate the charism and spirituality of the institute. The role of the superior is a commitment mechanism of tra-ditional religious life that is not often mentioned. We must admit, People must come together for the sake of a cause that transcends both themselves and their experience of journeying together. ~dy-AuKtwt 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life however, that nothing worked better to reinforce collective unity than Mother Superior. The traditional superior, especially when he or she was also the founder, was considered a voice of God. Today, conversely, some 75 percent of religious communities of women have no superior in any traditional sense. Mother Superior has been replaced by the "director" or "animator" or by a "lead-ership team." Such language, it seems to me, confuses two dif-ferent realities, authority and leadership. The first is the attribute of an office; the second, the quality of a person. In some congregations the role of superior has been largely taken over by an appointed middle-management bureaucracy with tendencies to perpetuate itself.~4 One sister has written to me say-i. ng, "Our best leaders are in our cemetery." Without desiring to turn back the clock, I ask: Was there a resonance present in the traditional role of superior that has been lost? If past superiors were legalistic and overbearing, were the best of them not the true spiritual leaders that We still hanker for? Were they not per-sons who loved the congregation and its charism and knew how to stir hearts and shape a vision? Commitment mechanisms are making a comeback in the new congregations and in the new lay religious movements in Europe and Latin America. The Neo-catechumenate, for example, invites members into a "way" (camino), which comprises certain distinct steps, a kind of RCIA for Catholics, through which each mem-ber must pass before they are considered "formed Christians." Some of their techniques involve confrontation and mutual crit-icism. New seminaries using Neo-catechumenal techniques, all called Redemptoris Mater, are springing up in many parts of the world. The Sant' Egidio lay community of Rome invites its mem-bers to sung vespers and a commentary on the Scripture every evening. Many religious congregations use directed retreats and the renewed thirty-day Ignatian Exercises as a more personalized form of commitment mechanism. Other communities have intro-duced formal faith-sharing sessions, a kind of lectio divina in which members Ponder scripture passages or the constitutions together and then discuss them. Patricia Wittberg suggests that it might be profitable to explore the new religious movements to see how traditional Catholic frameworks for "religious virtuos-ity are being reworked, whether consciously or unconsciously. ¯ in order to address the assumptions and values of the late-20th-and early-21 st-century American culture." 1~ Review for Religiou~ Visibility, intentionality, a clear and transcendent goal, and some commitment mechanisms--these are the sociological aspects necessary to be effective as a group. For Wittberg, their lack has been the major reason why the new metaphor of religious as reli-gious prophets has not truly taken hold. Ithas failed to galvanize religious communities, she believes, because contemporary indi-vidualism and pluralism have been allowed to dominate religious life. As a good sociologist, she remains neutral with regard to the desirability of the new metaphor itself. I wonder, however, if this goes far enough. Are there not other and deeper reasons why the new metaphor of religious prophet has not really caught on? If prophecy means being on the cutting edge, the question remains: On the cutting edge of what? of politics? of social betterment? of all this, plus something more? I accept and welcome the model of prophecy, but I do question its content as expounded by many religious at the pres-ent time. I believe that the prophet must identify the deepest assumptions of the age and try to respond to its deepest hungers. Have we; aspiring religious prophets, truly engaged our culture at its deepest levels? This brings me to my third and last statement of direction. Third direction: Effective religious community demands a concept of prophecy that engages the surrounding culture at its deepest levels and responds to its most profound hungers. Wittherg and others believe that because of restorationism the 19th-century church and its many new religious orders did not come to grips with the problems of modernity. My question is: In the prophetic model as currently understood, do we do so even now? I concur with Nygren and Ukeritis, who say that those con-gregations will be revitalized that are "rooted in their relationship with God, and that, in a spirit of fidelity to their founding purpose and responsiveness to absolute human need, confront the current gap between Gospel and the culture.''16 1 agree with Chittister's formal principle that religious congregations must "release every-where in society, at every level, through every individual member, wherever the members are, and whatever separate things they do, the white heat of those congregations' charism in one great cor-porate mind and one easily seen communal heart.''17 We must engage the dominant first-world culture and do so as corporate .t~uly-August 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life entities. We cannot run from it or remain indifferent. But, because we are religious, we must be careful to engage it at its deepest levels and not merely superficially. Historically, religious life flourished precisely when it was perceived as countering a culture's expressed values while answer-ing its deepest hungers. St. Francis of Assisi attracted followers, not because he was in conformity with his times, but because he challenged his times and in this way spoke to its heart of hearts. As we move toward the future, we must ask ourselves: What are the deepest hungers of our culture? Judith Merkle says that "the question which faces religious congregations today is what aspect of reality has the power to most deeply call us to life." 18. This is really the same question, for we are part of our culture, and our own deepest hungers will not differ much from those of the general culture. Some authors answer this question by insisting that we will be called to life by moving away from individualism and becoming a transformative community bent on creating a better world. In their eyes, the deepest need of contemporary culture is to achieve better rela-tionship with the poor, the oppressed, and the marginal; and this will be achieved by eradicating unjust social structures and oppos-ing oppressive ideologies like patriarchy, sexism, and racism. But is such a project sufficient? Is it at the center of religious prophecy? Is it where we address the deepest needs of our culture? Certainly, many of these ethical issues are important. They are a response to Gaudium et spes and in tune with the attempt of the-ologians to develop a more earth-centered interpretation of the kingdom. This new notion of the kingdom does not contradict the traditional view, but complements it. It asks us not to allow our desire for heaven to blind us to our duty to extirpate crass injus-tices in this world. In this view, the kingdom is not only a future heaven but the actual presence of God's power for transforming the world. So the religious project, the kingdom, has two loci. But, in many religious congregations, has the sociopolitical not become the solitary day-to-day focus? Is this not why the so-called prophetic model attracts so few first-world candidates? Have we not gone the route of liberal Protestantism, which in its social-gospel emphasis is fast losing ground to the Pentecostals and Evangelicals? In their nonparticipation and shifts of loyalty, are not lay Christians trying to tell us something? Review for Religious Can a religious congregation survive if its primary, all-inclu-sive goal is to solve complex and intractable social and moral issues? I doubt it. This is so especially when, in practice if not in theory, God is reduced to being a ground for human generativity or creativity in the social arena. Sociopolitical issues are impor-tant and can even be construed as religious in nature, but they are not at the center of the religious project. The center of the religious project is clear and simple: to affirm the existence and the love of God. This is true especially in our times, in which the major event has been the "death of God," the conviction that the idea of God is either meaningless or even detrimental. The first attitude comes from the side of science and the second from an existential-ist philosophy of life. The scientific picture as taught in many universities is one of a world that evolved by sheer chance from a big bang to con-scious, reflective beings. If through some. accident all conscious beings are destroyed, the Godless universe would be bereft of consciousness, and being would be a perpetual winter, In the sci-entistic worldview, sheer chance takes the place of God, and human life is voided of any objective meaning or purpose. Moral ¯ systems' become games contrived by human 'beings to bring about the maximal satisfaction of desires while avoiding conflict. The moral game is born of an enlightened egoism. For existentialists, following Nietzsche, religion must be ban-ished because it is repressive and life-denying and robs us of rad-ical freedom. It imposes an objective moral system that does not allow us to create values. We must choose between a life of free-dom and a God of enslavement. "Man dies at the touch of the Absolute," says Merleau-Ponty. One way in which existentialist atheism shows up in our culture is in its penchant for absolutiz-ing choice. No matter how dire the consequences, Americans will plump for choice on any issue. If there is no God, then each indi-vidual can be God, not only in general but at every moment and in every decision. This combination of scientific atheism and an existentialist absolutizing of individual power and choice has given rise, as Nietzsche predicted, to a sense of meaninglessness, to nihilism, to The center of the religious project is clear and simple: to affirm the existence and the love of God. July-August 1996 DiIanni ¯ Religious Life the banalizing of life, to the "unbearable lightness of being," The death of God has ushered in the death of man (and woman). Choosing and consuming, consuming and choosing, modern men and women are stranded on the anorexia-bulimia line--on the endless shuttle between fullness and emptiness." Is this all there is?" they ask. And many teenagers commit suicide or random murder, and others just keep on dancing. "Even more than athe-ism," says Walter Kasper, "the nihilism that flows from atheism is the real mark of the age."~9 This nihilism or voiding of meaning has its positive side. It is the modern expression of the hunger for God. It is in providing a lived response to this hunger that contemporary religious life will achieve its true prophetic role. Beyond all else, religious life must be a drumbeat proclaiming that God exists, that God's love for us through Jesus is unconditional, that it sustains us in suffering and continues beyond our death. The way for religious to engage the surrounding culture effectively is to witness that, far from crush-ing life, God alone gives it ultimate meaning and sense. I believe that at least two things must be retrieved by religious to help them achieve this truly religious end: interiority and, along .with it, an ardent desire to relate to the personal God who transcends the world. By interiorityI mean a new emphasis on the life of prayer and reflection and on being teachers of the spiritual life. Pierre Hadot, a French historian of philosophy, is influencing sophisticated the-ologians like David Tracy into bringing spirituality into the cen-ter of theology. He criticizes modern theology for its sharp division between theory and spiritual practice. Hadot insists that, unlike people of earlier times and of non-Western cultures, we Western moderns have not allowed theology to express itself in spiritual exercises. The old Stoics had spiritual exercises for com-ing into contact with the Logos, and this was one reason why Simone Weil loved the Stoics. The modern segmenting of the-ology and praxis--seen, for example, in the dropping of devo-tions since Vatican II--is one reason for the deep hunger for spirituality today. R~ligious must once again emphasize growth in personal holiness and speak to people about their experience of prayer, about their interior praxis with God. Our formation pro-grams must not fail to impart a sense that each person has 'a spir-itual life in which it is possible to make progress through prayer. Joan Chittister is correct when she insists that we cannot "confuse work with prayer, good intentions with the spiritual life:''2° Review for Religious We must regain a sense of the personal God who transcends the world, but with whom we can enter into intimate union. In a 1989 America article I spoke of our need to love God as well as our neighbor and said that the love of God cannot be totally expressed through neighbor love, Several weeks later, in a letter to the edi-tor, J. Robert Hilbert sJ wrote that "one must be careful" in draw-ing a distinction between love of God and love of neighbor. "God," he says, "is not an 'other' in the sense of a categorical object to be spoken of in parallel with other objects of my knowl-edge and love. It is rather precisely in God's transcendentality as the absolute Other that love of God and love of neighbor come together in a unique and necessary oneness.''2~ I do not know if such talk of God as the "absolute Other" does the job of maintaining the necessary balance between the immanence and transcendence of God. I am sure, however, that in their return to spirituality contemporary Christians are rebelling against attempts to blur the distinction between the love of God and the love of neighbor, even though both are absolutely necesshry and intimately intertwined. Classically God has been conceived of as higher than and dis-tinct from the world, a Creator who does not need us but who loves us even beyond our death and asks us to requite that love. In ~our effort to rethink the notion of God in a way acceptable to modernity, we must avoid the danger of turning God into some underlying catalyst for our doing :good, an ~lan vital or wisdom force. In the last thirty years, so many theologians liberationists, feminists, process theologians, all striving to develop an idea of a God who is intrinsic to our lives--may have fallen into just this trap, Have they not carried too far the idea that we are God's project for social betterment, that in some Hegelian way the Absolute is working through our creativity to achieve a world of peace and justice? I have two problems with the current political and this-worldly interpretations of the kingdom. The first is with the type of pol-itics it generally espouses, and the second with the primacy of politics itself. ¯ First, does not the particular type of politics espoused by some religious carry a great deal of questionable ideological baggage? A "politically correct" reading is .given to work with the poor and oppressed. The abortion question is often studiously avoided. Feminist publications of the most radical sort are taken seriously. 3~uly-August 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life Environmentalism is fast becoming a new religion among some religious, while they fail to realize that it has become extremely big business filling many already fat pockets. A listening ear is not lent to the arguments of those who distinguish between good and bad ways of helping the poor, arguments presented in thoughtful books like Marvin Olasky's Tragedy of American Compassion. And yet anybody who is truly concerned about the poor should also be attentive to the ways in which, with the best of motives, we may be locking them into a perpetual victimhood. But, beyond these particular issues, I think there is an overem-phasis on the sociopolitical in general. Social justice and the fos-tering of the earthly kingdom is not the whole gospel nor even the center of it. The hunger for another justice beyond social justice is never altogether absent from the human heart, Social justice is important, of course, because it is the minimum, upon which an earthly Christian community can be built. When it is dramat-ically absent, we cannot remain passive. When it is dramatically absent for many years for great numbers of people, it can for a time even be a consuming passion. But we must be careful that the gospel not be totally reduced to it. For the fact remains that we die eventually and that no program of social justice exists that can prevent our death or provide meaning to our dying. Beyond social justice, the church must have something to say also, perhaps especially, to those who are about to conclude their earthly life.22 Most religious, no matter how radical their politics, do retain a strong belief in a transcendent and personal God and a faith in the resurrection of the dead. But often this does not appear to be the main focus of their life and action. Unsure of the existence~ of the devil, many religious are very adept at naming the demonic. They are sure that sin has changed and we now better understand what constitutes real sin and real virtue, Evil, they think, is not located primarily in personal sins of commission, but in 'political and economic structures and in the sins of omission that keep these structures in place. Along with this perception, they have the conviction that the new technological possibilities available to us bring new responsibilities. Thus, they are fond of repeating that, since it is now possible for the first time to feed everyone, we have a special duty to create political structures and delivery sys-tems to implement this possibility. There is doubtless much to be said in favor of this, but, religiously speaking, it contains little that is new. Systemic and structural change is simply a new aspect Review for Religious that the perennial Christian demand of love of neighbor and of the stranger has assumed today. There remains the caveat of humility: that we not think we possess the answers to complex structural problems of politics and economics and that we curb the thought that we can ever build utopia on earth. In spite ofmy theoretical recognition of social justice's impor-tance and in spite of my practical efforts, past and present, in behalf of civil rights and of the poor, I believe that, from a reli-gious point of view, the social project remains ,superficial. Metaphysically, it is ultimately uninteresting. Cornel West, the brilliant black theology professor at Harvard Divinity School, often discusses social issues on Boston television. One day he was especially aroused and ended his speech with: "My brothers and sisters, this is the real important stuf!!" I shook my head and thought: Millions of people are dead and everyone is going to die. How can a theologian give such ultimate importance to this transient consciousness show we call the world? I am more in tune with Wilfrid Duffy SM, a priest-poet friend of mine afflicted with Parkinson's, whom I took to visit Michelangelo's statue of Moses in Rome. Disappointed with Moses' worldly appearance, he wrote a poem called "The Death of Moses" which ends with these words: ~ There was no dirge-- Just hard marble, noble features, Well-spaced fingers and toes, a certain strength, and some magnificence. But no d~sert; no voice of God, Unless I was not listen.ing. Perhaps it was I who had died. In the sociopolitical vision of the kingdom as practiced by some, where is the magic Of Bernini's sculpture of St. Teresa of Avila in rapture with God? What is the meaning of fasting, prayer, personal mortification, the Eucharist, confession, the drama of conversion and grace, justification, of Jacob wrestling with an angel? Interiority and mystery seem to get short shrift in the cur-rent version of the prophetic vision, as do original sin and personal sanctification and, yes, even ultimate salvation. Have we learned the Marxist lesson too well? Annette Pelletier IHM asks some poignant questions in this regard. "Have any., of the adaptations since Vatican II pro-claimed to the people of God the basic message that grace works? yuly-August 1996 Dilanni ¯ Reli~ousLife Politics, justice, and even morality cannot be the absolute center of the religious-life agenda. What else will or can ever change the present identity crisis of consecrated persons and their various congregations into an opportunity for reform, revitalization, and renewal if not the power of Mystery to fascinate but also to convert? Has this pri-mal experience of the Judeo-Christian tradition fallen by the way-side?" She continues: "Since Vatican II, adaptation and renewal have bridged the gap between the world and the consecrated life, but of what metal has that bridge been forged? Could it be that in bridging the gap an essential element of the identity of persons consecrated to God some-how got lost? What credible and clear evi-dence do religious women and men give to show that contact with the Holy somehow, mysteriously, does make a difference?" She quotes Richard Fragomeni saying that "the Christian tradition ultimately stands in silence before the operation of grace, the wonder of surprise, and the movement of a power beyond that of human consciousness and performance.''23 To be truly prophetic in the religious sense, religious life requires an integration of these two points of view about the king-dom-- the mystical-eschatological and the sociopsychological-- both of which have their roots in the gospel. The first rightly stresses the need for a mystical union with God' in this life and the hope for ultimate union with God hereafter. The first com-mandment, said Jesus, is that we love God with our whole heart. On the other hand, the Jesus we meet in prayer and in the Scriptures is the very embodiment of a God of compassion. Jesus reveals that Yahweh is not a "generic" God (Brueggemann), but a God who is interested in justice. To be involved with the God of Jesus is to be involved with the poor and the marginal of this world. We cannot be satisfied with urging them to suffer in the hope of an eternal reward in heaven. And yet secularism remains the deepest problem of the dom-inant culture, and it is at the center of the religious project. It is in grappling with this aspect of our culture that religious ,;rill truly and most deeply engage it. The deconstructionists are hard at work trying to be rid of all "metanarratives," and the pragma-tists are banishing any attempt to ground any~statement as true, A valedictorian at Harvard recently said: "At Harvard they teach Review for Religious you that you can hold any value you want, as long as you don't hold it to be true." Television is not far behind. It continues to dis-place the deep and serious with celebrity, with hi-tech gossip, and with the tolerance morality of the talk shows. I strongly applaud Joan Chittister's suggestion that we must be corporately visible, but the principal goals she sets--educating the world about °the new social questions of the age, about sexism, racism, the environment, and multiculturalism, about the whole agenda of political correctness--all remain at the level of politics and sometimes debatable politics. There is justice and justice. Politics, justice, and even morality cannot be the absolute center of the religious-life agenda. But coming to grips with an atheis-tic secularism can, for it is a directly theological and religious issue. What is more countercultural, to say that we are going to save planet Earth or to say that Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference? Which answers our deepest and most ultimate concerns? Which, metaphysically speaking, and which, from a religious point of view, is more interesting? Perhaps the last thirty years of religious life have been fruit-ful after all. With T.S. Eliot we may be able now to cease our exploration, return home, anddiscover the place for the first time. For in thirty years we have changed and perhaps only now have the wisdom to plan a renewal and a future. In our planning for the 21st century, can we not truly join action and contemplation, this-worldly love and the inystical-eschatological--envisage, that is, a close friendship between oneself as prophet and oneself as spouse of Christ? And can we not then send them both off on a splendid quest that we might call, according to the metaphor Qf Keel and Beaudry, "a journey together toward God"? Notes * See Patricia Wittberg, The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders (Albany: SUNY Press, 1994), p. 269. 2 See Albert DiIanni, Religious Life as Adventure (Staten Island: Alba House, 1994). 3 William R. Burrows's interview with David Tracy in America, 14 October 1995, p. 16. 4 See Martin R. Tripole, "The Roots of Faith-and-Justice: Critical Assessment," Review for Religious 54, no. 5 (September-October 1995): passim. s Joan Chittister, "Religious Life Today: Response to Kerkhofs," Religious Life Review 32, no. 4' (1993): 203. Dilanni ¯ Religious Life 6 Joan Chittister, "Religious Orders," National Catholic Reporter, 18 February 1994, p. 16. 7 Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 239. s The findings of Nygren and Ukeritis also seem to confirm that the flight to democracy was not well thought out: "Assumption~ regarding the applicabilit~ of democratic forms of governance to religious life were made with little or no conversation regarding the appropriateness of this move. Centuries-old notions of obedience were dismissed and replaced with concepts such as ,listening to the Spirit' which, while challenging, lack a history of experience to provide a context that produces consis-tency in form or process" (David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States [FORUS] [Westport, Connecticut: Praeger, 1993], p. 240). 9 Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 27. ,0 Edwin L. Keel SM and Susan Beaudry PM, "Journeying to God Together," Review for Religious 53, no. 3 (May-June 1994): 441. 1, See Elizabeth McDonough, "The Past Is Prologue: Quid Agis?" Review for Religious 51, no. 1 (January-February 1992): 82, and also Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 193. ,2Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 256. 13 See Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. xi. 14On developments of this sort, see Elizabeth McDonough, "Beyond the Liberal Model: Quo Vadis?" Review for Religious 50, no. 2 (March- April 1991), pp. 172-173 and 176-177, and her "Past Is Prologue," pp. 79- 82. In the latter article she is using material from Patricia Wittberg, Creating a Future for Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1991). ,s Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 270. ,6 .Nygren and Ukeritis, FORUS, p. 244. ,7 Chittister, "Religious Orders," p. 16. 18 Judith A. Merkel, Committed by Choice (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992), p. 54. ,9 Walter Kasper, The God of Jesus Christ (New York: Crossroad, 1986), p. ll. 20 Chittister, "Religious Orders," p. 17. 2,America, 2 September 1989, p. 127. 22 It is unjust to ask some to struggle to the death for a future utopia to be enjoyed only by others in the future. Even the Marxist philosopher Theodore Adorno was exercised by this problem and insisted that there must also be a justice for the dead. 23 Annette M. Pelletier, "Fascination with the Holy--and Conversion," Review for Religious 53, no. 4 (July-August 1994): 562-563,565. Review for Religious JANET MALONE Internationality: ConsciousnessRaising and Conversion nternationality in religious congregations has a price, and .l. congregations that in recent years have called themselves inter-national are now in the various stages of conversion requisite to being purposefully international or what Catherine Harmer has called intentionally international. At this point it is important for them to keep their eyes open to internationality's richness, for the changes and conversion that are requisite to being truly interna-tional bring the difficulties--the price--very much to the fore. Ways of Coping Change can be scary, and becoming an international congre-gation has been quite difficult for many communities, to the point where certain resistances have surfaced as ways of coping with this new "crisis." In working with such congregations, I have noted various ways of coping. Some groups want to downplay the full connotation of internationality in its mission sense of supra-nationality even when in fact, with acceptance and incorporation of some different cultures and nationalities, a new congregational culture has already come into being that, in many ways, goes well beyond being the mere sum of its older and newer parts. Other congregations that have called themselves international by reason of their physical expansion into other nations now deal Janet Malone CND wrote "Coming Home: The Journey Within" for our May-June 1995 issue. Her address is 24-1002 Dufferin Avenue; Saskatoon, Saskatchewan; S7H 2C1 Canada. ~uly-August 1996 Malone ¯ Internationality with subtle and varying aspects of resistance throughout their congregations. In still other congregations, the resistance has been quite subtle, with efforts by some members to have their congregations refer to themselves, not as "international," but as "multicultural" or "intercultural" or as congregations "with an international character." Some congregations seem ready to rescind the appellation of internationality because of the cost in terms of both personal and corporate conversion. They would justify this retrograde step by emphasizing that they are not really international because they are present in only.a few other nations. On the other hand, if a congregation purposefully decides to become or to remain an international one, it most likely must go through, both personally and corporately, an actual step-by-step process of conversion. This involves consciousness raising. The Process of Consciousness Rai sing In this article I want to highlight the different stages of con-sciousness raising. Being consciously aware of these stages can help change "hearts of stone to hearts of flesh" (Ez 36:26) in the process of becoming purposefully international. In my January- February 1992 article "Internationality--At What Price?" I spoke about conversion; herein I shall elaborate on what I now see as the intermediate steps of consciousness raising in the conversion process. Sometimes the dominant culture is replaced by another group's culture with the result that the oppressed become the oppressor. When that happens, a congregation--using power in a way that creates scarcity, and marginalization--plays'the game of musical chairs. Whether the oppression is conscious or not, those with power marginalize others and continue the injustice. It is normal for there to be resistances, biases, prejudices, and stereotypes as a congregation becomes truly international, for various members are at different stages of consciousness awareness (and conversion) in their own. enculturation, acculturation, and inculturation. It has been my experience in worki.'ng with inter-national groups that resistance to change in the form of preju-dices and stereotypes comes from very sincere people who feel threatened by the unknown and wonder how the proposed changes will affect them. Like most things in life, consciousness Review for Religious raising does not happen all at once. Rather, it is a process of awareness and evaluation of hitherto unperceived injustices that preclude the changes necessary for conversion. The rhythm of consciousness raising is different for different individuals, and it holds a particular challenge for those in lead-ership roles in a congregation. These need to be somewhat com-fortable with the unknown, with taking risks. Only then can they encourage the members to take some requisite steps toward becoming comfortable with the attitudinal and structural changes that can eliminate subtle oppressions of which many members may be quite unaware. In so doing, they model equality and mutuality. Consciousness raising he.lps to bring about real change in the attitudes of individuals and in congregational structures that reflect the dominant culture. Consciousness raising gradually brings a group to an honest evaluation of the ways of being and doing in the group that, in many instances, are distinctive of the domi-nant, founding group. Such an evaluation can then lead to the necessary changes in praxis. Stages of Consciousness Raising Adapting the work of Gaylor and Fitzpatrick, I will now high-light six differeht stages of consciousness raising in congregations becoming purposefully international. Not linear, these six stages in consciousness raising tend to overlap in a helical fashion. The first stage, the "no big deal" stage, is characterized by per-plexity and sometimes denial that there is a problem, This can be experienced by both sides of the internationality challenge: those who are the majority and see no oppression whatsoever and those who--unaware of it or only minimally aware--are the receivers of such oppression. Thus, there can be outright denial of the injustice and dismissal of any claims of it or a trivializa-tion of the injustice. For example, in a mixed-language group where there is "whisper" translation, people in the majority group may interrupt a minority speaker in midsentence and demand immediate translation. On the other hand, members of the major-ity group may carry on a full conversation among themselves while translation is being provided for the minority group. Members of a majority find it difficult to see this kind of problem even when it is pointed out. The minority group may see this as ,the way things have always been and display a certain ffuly-August 1996 Malone ¯ Internationality passivity or resignation. In both instances there is no awareness or almost none in this "~no big deal" stage. If, however, a congrega-tion is really serious about its internationality, then each language group, regardless of numbers, deserves a sacred space to under-stand and be understood. At this stage, discrepancies between the majority's demands and the needs of the minority can be trivialized by the majority with such statements as "Oh, it wasn't intentional" and by the minority with "They don't mean to be rude." In both instances there is no consciousness or only a minimal awareness of injustices and oppression, subtle or otherwise. The second, "eye-opening" stage occurs when a member of either group, the majority or the minority, experiences such types of oppression with some discomfort. Itis very easy here to revert back to the "no big deal" stage, but at .this second stage both groups can see previously status-quo experiences in a new light. Consciousness is being raised; as Ecclesiastes 3 observes, the "sea-son" for it has come. Experiences that were seen as normal are now evaluated some-what differently. Still, this evaluation is fragile. If, as a member of the dominant group, I am not much impressed by this new eval-uation, then I. may become ambivalent and protective of the sta-res quo. If I am a member of the minority group, I may not speak out on an injustice for fear of being rejectedand labeled a trou-blemaker. Members of the majority may realize for the first time that they refer to a minority group from a developing nation as "cute" and "innocent," with "so much to learn." In this stage they come to a deeper insight into what they are really saying. The third, "on the fence" stage is that point where, although: individuals or groups in an international congregation now se,e unequivocally the injustices within the congregation towards cer-tain groups, they still do not have the courage to "walk their talk." They still try to curry favor with both sides. Being "on the fence," they maneuver between the two sides without taking a firm stand on the side of the oppressed. Although it is important to see both sides of any situation, still it is critical at certain times to get "off: the fence." The warn-ing of Jesus about being lukewarm resounds here. For example, in a congregation which has called itself international, a particular group lobbies to change that term to something like intercultural because it thinks, that will solve the discontent of some of the Review for Religious majority group. Without a critical analysis of the issues involved, many congregation members may stay "on the fence" and not try to explore possible resistances underneath. The fourth, "coming home" stage of consciousness raising is that point where an individual or a group in the international congregation moves to making public various convictions on issues integral to internationality. It is the point where the personal convictions expressed heretofore only in safe, private spaces are now shared in more public places within the congregation, although still in rather circumspect ways. This stage is both diffi-cult and challenging because "the medium becomes the message." For example, a per-son or a group may submit to the congre~ gational leadership a proposal for specific structural changes to enhance the congre-gation's internationality. The private has become public, but not as yet within the public forum of a chapter or assembly of the total congregation. The fifth, "passion" stage of conscious-ness raising is a .more integrated stage involving both head and heart. Persons immediately come to mind who have had a passion for certain truths: "I have a dream."; "Ask not what your country can do for you."; "Go and gather up the drops of blood . " This stage challenges individuals and groups to lace their reasoned and dispassionate discourse with some emotion, such as anger at instances of oppression and injustice. When expressed construc-tively and nonviolently, such anger can be an energy and .catalyst for change. For example, at international meetings where an impasse has been reached because of fears and resistances, a spe-cial meeting might be called to get at these fears and blocks to any change. The danger here can be that the only interventions rec-ognized in the group are those which focus solely on "defini-tions," "constitutions," and "canon law." The challenge is to get underneath the words to the energy of the emotions. Only when the stories of personal experiences around such feelings are shared is there any movement in the group toward some deeper con-scious awareness. Members of the majority may realize that they refer to a minority group from a developing nation as "cute" and "innocent," with "so much to learn." Malone ¯ Internationality Patience and waiting are also critically important in this stage; planting the seeds of change and waiting for them to blossom is what being prophetic is all about. It is the process of going from "mine" to "ours." For example, an important component of being international is to have an international communications office and journal, both of which are grassroots and decentralized so that inculturation can gradually occur from the bottom up. It may take some time for that dream to move from being "mine" to "ours" in an international group because of many different variables, some of which may be subtle efforts to hold on to the status quo. The sixth and last stage, "acceptance/appropriation/incorpora-tion," is the crux of consciousness raising. It is that season in the life of a congregation where being international is not just the decision of a chapter or decision-making body. Rather, it is the season where internationality is the lived reality in the group. Such acceptance/appropriation/incorporation leads to a sense of equality and mutuality in the congregation and is reflected in both personal and corporate attitudinal and structural changes. Personal Conversion Having surveyed the stages of consciousness raising about biases, prejudices, stereotypes, and resultant injustices and oppres-sion, we now explore their implications for conversion. Personal conversion may take many different shapes including intellectual, moral, and spiritual conversion. Although conversion, like con-sciousness raising, is not a linear process but in many ways a gift of the grace of G6d, yet this helical process has some distinct aspects. Intellectual conversion interfaces directly with the stages of consciousness raising. It is a seeing with new eyes that continuing to support or collude with oppressive structures and ways of being in one's congregation is wrong. Now morally aware of behaviors in these matters that are actually sinful, the members of the dom-inant group must become morally aware also of their passivity in not speaking out about an ol6pressive status quo. An attitudinal shift must occur that moves them to do something about the injus-tice, be that something ever so small in the large scale of things. When people perceive the general pattern of increased aware-ness and its call for moral conversion, they may notice the :pattern in groups not only where they oppress others but also where oth- Review for Religious ers oppress them. They should notice, too, that it is very easy for the oppressed to become the oppressors in other circumstances. Unless there is a conscious intent to break the cycle of oppression, ¯ it is likely to continue. Spiritual conversion calls members of a congregation to live the gospel in .a radical way, such that there can be true love, for-giveness, and reconciliation as the different ways of oppressing come to light. Such conversion is countercultural when there is reconciliation and not revenge. "Love is patient, kind, not jealous, does not seek its own interests, is not quick-tempered, and does not brood over injury. It does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with.the truth" (1 Co 13:4-6). Corporate Conversion Corporate conversion requires changes within the organiza-tional structures of the congregation so thfit the sense Of mutuality and equality will exist both in word and in the lived praxis. Catherine Harmer details the structural changes required to become intentionally international. These changes are summa-rized here: 1. Each of the different provinces/regions/cultural entities in a congregation has the necessary autonomy to make local decisions regarding ministry choices, personnel changes, formation, and finances. 2. The leadership in each province/region/area should normally be made up of the people of that country. 3. International congregational committees and task forces must include representatives from all areas. 4. General chapters must also be representative of the total congregation not bnly in attendance but also in plan-ning and staff. 5. Provision must be made to accommodate diverse lan-guage groups at such meetings. 6. The members of the central administration of the con-gregation must reflect its internationality. 7. The founding group should eventually cease to domi-nate in all aspects of the congregational life. Conclusion Some congregations, ~n their beginnings, were not founded as international groups.~ In recent years they may have called July-August 1996 Malone * Internationali~ themselves international because of their "physical" expansion to different nations. They go through birthpangs when this acci-dental internationality becomes a purposeful or intentional inter-nationality. This article has affirmed that various resistances to the new and the temptation to go back to the "good old days" are a nor~ mal part of such a new birth. This process, for both personal and corporate conversion, has been clarified by the application of Gaylor and Fitzpatrick's stages of consciousness raising to the matter of becoming a truly international congregation. References Jean Alvarez. "Prejudice in Religious Congregations." Human Development, Winter 1983. Christine C. Gaylor and Annelle Fitzpatrick. "The Stages of Consciousness Raising." Human Development, Fall 1987. Catherine Harmer. "Internationality: Intentional or Accidental." Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 111-118. Janet Malone. "Internationality--At What Price?" Review for Religious 51, no. 1 (January-February 1992): 109-117. Dorcas Surely, there was time to miss what might be missed: garments made, acts of charity attested to by friends and neighbors, the complexities of a simple style, feel of wool well-woven, the breathless moment prior to a newborn's angry cry. Then, did you hesitate at all on that gruff apostle's word before, gazelle-like (how else), you leapt from there to here? Leonar~i Cochran OP Review for Religious FINIAN McGINN Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community ~nheaot happens when a community evolves from a homoge- us ethnic group to a heterogeneous ethnic group? Do the inner structures of the group change? Do they have to change; if so, how far? How can we change structures to meet the multi-cultural needs of the members? Do we have any models of recent attempts toward multiculturalization of institutions? With more Hispanic and southeast Asian membership in U.S. religious com-munities, what are the areas of greatest tension? How do we pre-pare our members for a multicultural institution? Is there a different type of preparation for the older members than for the younger? Does the same phenomenon happen to public educational institu-tions, businesses, and large corporations? These are but a few of the issues confronting provincials in the United States as they realize that they have been writing more letters in Spanish to their members than those of the previous administration and that they see more and more Vietnamese-- survivors of the fall of Saigon in 1975--in their houses of forma-tion. What has happened to the province we entered in the 1950s? At that time most of us were German, Italian, Polish, and Irish-- predominantly Westerners of European descent. Now, in the mid 1990s, we have become pluralistic, much more ethnically diverse, and the old ways of doing things have begun to change. As ministers of the local :church, most of us have witnessed our parishes and other apostolates change demographically, but we Finian McGinn OFM serves as vicar provincial for the Santa Barbara province of the Franciscan friars. His address is 1500 34th Avenue; Oakland, California 94601. ffuly-August 1996 McGinn * Toward Multiculturalizin~ a Reli~ous Communi~ have failed to look inward at our own religious communities. We have tried to prepare the people in our areas of work by inviting experts to give inservices and workshops to inform the parish-ioners about the new reality they face and to help them understand the new refugee and immigrant neighbors in their midst. We have applied multicultural solutions to our apostolates, but we have failed to prescribe them for our own religious communities. Immigrants and Refugees in General What are the differences of today? Ethnographers tell us that the Hispanic, the southeast Asian, and the African American have different ways of looking at the family, at community life, work, interpersonal relationships, prayer; recreation, decision making, and at many other issues which are essential to religious life. Even though 'we see out communities beginning to change demo-graphically we continue to do what we have been doing for years. Superiors are becoming aware that many of the strategies that were used before are no longer effective today because of the dif-ferent cultural values held by the members. Is there agreement on a common hierarchy of values? How does a superior take into consideration the Asian notion of "sav-ing face" in his or her decision making? If the culture affirms dependence and docility, how does one teach independence, assertiveness and confrontation? If the culture emphasizes family, interpersonal relationships with persons of the same culture and close-knit ingroupings, how does it embrace a larger community of muhiethnic members? How do different cultural groups view the vows; how do they see religious obedience? How much does a province change to accommodate the new cultures? .Multiculturalizing in the United States presents a rather polit-ically sticky problem. At present the United States offers a con-text where xenophobia is quite present. Historically we have gone from the melting pot model to a nonwelcoming model and from: "Come but assimilate quickly" to "Don't come and, in fact; you're not welcome!" Today movements against immigration are strong; foreigners are looked upon as inferior, their culture deficient, their language an obstacle to the acquisition of English. The province is aware of and perhaps may even pick up these negative attitudes by contagion or osmosis. Minority candidates who lived in the society where antiimmigration propaganda is prevalent Review for Religious approach the province wondering in what manner they will be received. R. Otheguy, commenting on the melting pot notion of the United States, remarks: "Because of their experience with racism in this country, many Hispanics have long ago given up hope of disappearing"--of blending into U.S. society. Baker takes the reasoning a step further and concludes that Hispanics found in multiculturalism a way to become at least somewhat American and keep their cultural values at the same time. He states, "Because of the [Hispanic's] history of being the victim of racism, the result may be the prevention of assimilation and integration with a consequent need to embrace some form of multicultural-ism for survival, security, status, and self-enhancement." Ethnic minorities themselves speak of additive biculturalism and bilingualism (Cummins, 1989). The melting pot paradigm has stressed a subtractive aspect: "Acquire English and lose your native language! Assimilate into U.S. society and forget your own culture; it's a deficit." Ethnographers and multiculturalists, on the other hand, speak of English-plus and acculturation to the host cul-ture. "ApprEciate your own language and learn English too. Take on the good U.S. cultural values, but don't lose your own culture in the process!" Most minorities lean toward maintenance of their language and culture as they adapt them-selves to the U.S. resettlement process (Lambert & Taylor). Paulo Freire describes the approach whereby the dominant culture wit-tingly or unwittingly attempts to impose the mainstream culture on new arrivals as "cultural invasion . a form of cultural domi-nation." Hopefully today's religious community advocates the addi-tive approach. As in many of these issues, however, it is much easier to speak about it than to do it. How do different cultural groups view the vows; how do they see religious obedience? How much does a province change to accommodate. the new cultures ? A Pluralistic Religious Community in Missionary Lands After some years in a missionary area, the superior general of a congregation in Rome insists that groups of a congregation 3~uly-August 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community from different nations in a foreign missionary country form one province. Each small group initially came to the mission country and received a portion of the mission territory within which to work. Members of the same ethnic group struggled with the lan-guage together, worked together, prayed together, evangelized the territory together, and accepted and formed native vocations. After some years this group and others in the missionary nation are asked to begin to form one entity together with the native religious of the area. This is an extremely difficult process and almost always poses a threat to both the foreigners and the native-born religious. The foreigners are no longer the majority in the group. They brought the faith, founded the missions, trained and even baptized and formed the native religious. In fact, they are still held in awe by the native religious members of the congregation. The foreigners are older and have been trained in a different the-ology of mission. The native religious, members of the host cul-ture, know the nation and its culture much better ,than do the foreigners. They have definite ideas on what should be done in their own country but are afraid to offend the foreigners who have given them the faith in the first place. This leads to a cultural impasse. To form the one entity from many disparate groups and to agree upon a common set of values is fraught with tension. In the United States In religious communities of the United States, however, usu-ally the majority membership of the institution is of white west-ern European stock; they are members of the host culture who have been living religious life for some time and have reached a consensus or implicit agreement upon certain common values of the institution. The tension arises as other multiethnic members become a sizeable minority, become visible, and begin to make their voices heard within the membership. How do the new mem-bers fit in? How does the larger group make room for them? What interior and exterior changes must take place to allow this to happen? How Other Institutions Meet the Challenge Businesses are learning new strategies to capitalize on inter-national markets and to improve communication with foreign Review for Religious nationals. Many public school districts, impacted by the influx of immigrants and refugees, offer classes, inservices and workshops on understanding cultural differences to relate with parents and members of the minority community and to enhance crosscul-tural communication. Business and education are presently publishing ma6~y books and articles dealing with multicultural differences and ways of adapting to and understanding people of other cultures. We, as religious, have not yet tapped these sources for our own com-munities. Business Since the Peace Corps in the early 1960s, many types of cross-cultural training programs have been designed to prepare indi-viduals for life in another culture. The goal of such programs is to help the business organization reduce and' prevent business losses and personal trauma. Harris and Moran. describe at least four models of training in cross-cultural orientation programs, ranging from lectures and readings about the culturel through simulation activities and sen-sitivity training to a cultural awareness model which seeks to develop one's ability to recognize ~cultural influence~ in personal values, behaviors, and cognitions. The goals of any training in cultural awareness are the following: a)to develop one's skill in diagnosing .difficulties in intercultural communication, b) to teach one when to suspend judgment when confronted with behavior which appears odd, c) to help one become aware of one's lack of sufficient knowledge of the other culture, and d) to increase one's motivation to learn more about the culture and the people. Public School Districts Public schools train cultural staff persons in cross cultural com-munication and hire. experts of the target 'cultural groups to present orientation and inservice to administrators and both certificated and classified personnel. These inservices and workshops are offered to both new and veteran teachers and staff. The host culture is compared to the immigrant or refugee culture. Culture brokers and the cultural specialists explain the areas of possible tension and/or misunderstanding; differing'values are examined, discussedL, 3-7-7- .~dy-Aug~tst 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community and understood. The goal of the process is twofold. It seeks to offer awareness and understanding of the newly arrived ethnic group and to examine the behavior of the teachers, administrators, and staff toward this group. James A. Banks distinguishes between two types of curricula in the schools: the manifest curriculum and the hidden curriculum. It is the hidden curriculum which is more cogent and which impo.ses the implicit norms and values of the school. Hopefully, the process of cultural awareness will shed some light on the hidden values and norms of the institution. Steps Religious Groups Are Taking By far one of the most multicultural communities in the United States and elsewhere is the international community of the Franciscan Missionaries of Mary. From its very foundation it has been international and universal in scope. It has no set policy governing ethnicity in the local house, yet from the beginning of the institute, its communities have been from different countries, ethnic groups, and cultures. Members of the institute have con-sistendy affirmed the intention that wherever possible, their com-munities be international in membership. Although they do not have formal courses in international living, the administration does try to provide the members with experiences locally, provincially, and at the general level that will expose them to the reality of living in a multicultural commu-nity. In recent years, two continuing formation programs have helped the members deepen this expression of international, mul-ticultural living in community: They also have regional meetings and meetings of administrators. "All of these gatherings, while addressing specific questions, give the opportunity for the sisters to get to know one another and to build up understanding and relationships. [The gatherings] deepen the sense of our being from many different places and our unity in diversity" (MOtte). It should be noted that in the gatherings the sisters use three linguae francae--French, Spanish, and English as official languages dur-ing the meetings. Maryknoll , Maryknoll has developed its Cross-Cultural Training Services for those who wish to discern theircall and prepare for cross- Review for Religious cultural ministry. A team of experts directs a month-long, inten-sive preparation, including a week retreat, for those planning to work abroad. The topics discussed during the training include culture and society, adjustment to a new culture, strategies for surviving culture and language shock, spirituality, inculturation, and discernment. As always, Maryknoll continues to offer a realistic prepara-tion to both religious and lay persons who find themselves called to a global ministry. Much of the content studied in the training sessions is vital and, with a little adaptation, can easily be used in workshops for religious institutions in the United States which are in the process of becoming multiethnic. Content of a Multicultural Awareness Program Should any province wish to set up a program to make itself more multicultural there shoul~t be certain key components of the content area. The actual training program could range from lectures, workshops to an institute, or any combination of the three. The speakers at the events should be experts in various areas of ethnic studies, preferably not members of the partici-pating religious group. In the world of language-minority students, J. Cummins speaks of certain "dimensions" necessary for the empowerment of minorities. The dimensions mentioned in Cummins's paradigm for empowerment touch the very center of multicultural living. They can easily be adapted from an educational institution to a reli-gious community. Cummins stresses four essential dimensions: language, collaboration, reciprocity, and advocacy. A. Language. The language issue is important. Theoreticians speak of language shock as. they describe, the early years of a person's resettlement in the United States. Bilingualists stress :the incor-poration of one's home language into the life of the school and its curriculum. The inclusion of the minority language and culture into the school has significant effects on the personality, attitudes, and the social and emotional well being of the students and their parents. The language issue in a religious community is also of impor-tance. The minority candidate must feel at ease in the language of the .host country. At times, both community and ministry err by failing to allow sufficient time f6r the acquisition of higher cog- 3~dy-.4ug~t 1996 McGinn * Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community The emotional drain of trying to live in a society that speaks one's second language is stressful for the minority religious. nitive and academic vocabulary to emerge in second-language acquisition, and, satisfied with the conversational idiom which we hear daily, tell the newly arrived religious, "There's a great need in the ministry for a Spanish-speaking religious. You know enough English now, get to work in a barrio parish. Fulfill our need in the Spanish-speaking ministry!" (The language learner, too, may become impatient with the slowness of the acquisition process and, in his or her impatience, opt to begin ministry sooner than he or she should.) This may be a great boon for the ministry of the province, but not for com-munity life. We have deprived the candi-date and the religious community of the depth and the wisdom which both can bring to community living. In this area it seems much better to err on the side of more English. rather than less. The'emotional drain of trying to live in a society that speaks one's second lan-guage is stressful for the minority religious. No matter how proficient one is in L2, there are times when learners simply shut down. Teachers, those who have studied abroad, and linguists describe the state of one who has paid attention all day to academic discourse in the weaker language and in the evening simply blanks out and is unable to comprehend even the simplest of phrases in L2. Larson and Smalley describe language shock as a component of culture shock that has profound effects on one who is trying to acquire the lan-guage of the host society. Rese~irchers point out that the disori-entation caused by language shock can induce a whole syndrome of rejection. The newly arrived must cope with the new stress and therefore must divert attention and energy from learning the second language. The learner begins to reject speakers of the tar-get language. These speakers become the source of his or her dis-orientation and, therefore, he or she has difficulty forming identifications necessary to learn the language of the host coun-try. The problem becomes even more complex if the learner per-ceives, erroneously or otherwise, that the speakers of the target language reject the learner and his or her culture .and language. Language has many paradoxical uses. Instead of opening doors, it can close them. It can,; at times, be used as a wall, or a Revlew for Religious defense to unite a group or to keep others out. Knowingly or unknowningly, fluently bilingual speakers will use the language which other members of the community do not understand to keep them out of the circle or to provide a feeling of belonging for themselves. Unless one knows the linguistic code--he or she can-not enter the inner circle. Opportunities to study the languages of the members of the community should also be offered and even encouraged for the majority members of the religious congregation. Bialystok and Hakuta treat the types of motivation in second-language learning and come to the conclusion that few of us learn a second lan-guage as an end in itself. Most of us learn it "to gain access, through verbal interaction, to cultural dealings with people who lay claim to that language." As most of us can read a language better than we can speak it, community liturgies and prayer of the hours could be said on alternate days in either language if the members of the local com-munity were in the process of~becoming bilingual. Fine language courses with new, nonthreatening and nonbelittling methodol-ogy are offered in practically every large city of the country. Corollary 1. Spending the time and energy in the attempt to learn a language used by a large number of the religious congregation (that of the host country and that of the minority cultures) is a good investment by the province in community life. B. Collaboration. Cummins claims that where the culture of the family is not given status in the school and communities and parents are kept powerless, then inferiority and lack of school progress may result. When there is parental collaboration with the teacher there is usually success. Religious communities at times tend to take the culture of origin of the member for granted and in no way envision it as a factor in the religious formation of the individual. We tend to think that their mother and dad are like our mother and dad and that their home is like our home. With the advent of people from many diverse areas of the world, the assumption no longer works if it ever did. The following is an example from education of this type of reasoning. A successful middle-school teacher recently remarked: "I just assumed that their home was like my home and for two years in middle school I demanded at least thirty minutes of written homework. Then I visited one of the homes. It was a revelation. ~dy-August 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community The.home and local community of the culturally different are areas that the religious province cannot afford to ignore. In a two-bedroom apartment three families were living (around 16 individuals). There was no quiet space, very lit.de furniture, and little ones were scurrying all around. If any homework could be done, it would be done at the kitchen-table, the only table in the home. This would be done while the five elders were watching television at the same time in the same room. I began to realize that doing homework in'a home such as that one was notan easy task. The example was not characteristic of only one family but of the vast majority of families of Hmong students at that school." Awareness of the culture and the val-ues of the minority religious is essential. Conchita Delgado-Gaitan has many stud-ies that analyze learning experiences in the home and parental strategies used to impart knowledge and values to the chil-dren. She compared the home strategies with those used by the school of the dom-inant culture to discover convergence or dissonance. She studied the linkage between the culture of the home and that of the school. The home and local community of the culturally different are areas that the religious province cannot afford to ignore. Culture shock, discussed in most cultural orientation work-shops, is not as easily remedied as one might think. This psychic ~hock is the anxiety which results from the disorientation encoun-tered upon entering a new culture. Larson and Smalley describe how essential characteristics of good mental health are often lost just by moving into a new culture. Extreme symptoms of culture shock may pass relatively quickly as ways of coping with the new environment are acquired. More subtle problems, however, may persist and produce stress which can last for years. Paul Pedersen, in his recent book, A Handbook for Developing Multicultural Awareness, confirms that culture shock is likely to last over the visitor's entire stay in an unfamiliar culture, reappear in a variety of forms, and not be limited to an initial adjustment. Spindler and Spindler, of Stanford University, have been train-ing people in ethnographic evaluation of educational environ, ments for many years. Cultural therapy, the term the ,Spindlers use to describe a procedure of reflective, cross-cultural analysis of Review for Religious individuals of different cultures through personal encounters, has become quite famous. The aim of the therapy is to promote cross cultural and intracultural behavioral understanding. The process involves open dialogue between people of different cultures (teacher and student or a member of the host culture and one of the cultural minority). It seeks to reveal to the educator and to the minority student unconscious biases and cultural ethnocentrism. Trueba shows how culture shock experienced by the culturally diverse can have an effect on the members of the host culture, and he observes: "Therefore, it is extremely important for teach-ers to realize that they are experiencing cultural shock when they try to function effectively with children who do not share their values and expectations. Academic success requires, then, that both teachers and students build learning environments in which success is possible for both." How can we make the local reli-gious communities places which assure success and fairness for all members of whatever culture? With each of the four dimensions paternalism on the part of the member of the host culture is a temptation, Among members of the religious institute, the environment should be one of equal-ity. A paternalistic attitude in this process would promote a depen-dency which would impede empowerment and fail to promote success. On the other hand, members of the religious commu-nity who have lived in other countries and those who have strug-gled to acquire another language--of host country or of the language minority--are equipped to act as culture brokers and even cultural therapists in helping to make the new culture more familiar and less strange and in creating an atmosphere which insures fairness and success. Corollary 2. Awareness of the new cultures in the religious community should be encouraged. Study of one's own culture and that of other members of the community should be pro-moted. Appreciation of the ethnic diversity of the community by listening and telling stories without ethnocentric bias and judgment will hopefully develop respect for the legitimate cultural differences of the religious community. C. Reciprocity. Cummi~as's third dimension stresses the fact that the language minority student must not simply receive the new knowledge passively but there should be a reciprocal inter-action, a dialogue in which the minority students bring their rich-ness to the process. 3n~uly-August 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multicultu~alizing a Religious Community In a religious community this type of sharing appears to be difficult to attain. It demands that those who have lived in the host country all their lives and have been in the religious com-munity for many more years must begin to listen to the new ones and look at the goals and mission of the congregation from their perspective. It requires a change of attitude. In a nonjudgmental manner, one can begin to act as an ethnographer and discover new realities and appreciate the vibrant faith and the beauty in approaches to the sacred which have not been part of one's own history. To do this one must allow a forum for the culturally dif-ferent and listen to them with respect. They become the teachers. Bilingual members and members who have lived in mission lands are an asset to the religious community. Religious of diverse cultures are at different levels of acculturation, and the bilingual and former missionary members of the community are equipped to act as bridge makers in opening the dialogue between the older religious of the host country and those who are culturally diverse. Corollary 3. Reciprocity is a step toward healing the rem-nants of cultural shock. "I struggle to understand and appre-ciate the minority religious' culture, language, approach to the divine, family, and community, and the newly arrived struggle to appreciate my culture, language, approach to the divine, family, and community." ~Many demands are involved in the process, but the struggle leads to mutual respect and understanding. D. Advocacy. In a school setting, Cummins insists that the majority teachers become advocates for the language minority children. Many of the instruments used in the evaluation of minor-ity students are based and standardized on the language of the majority population, and it is often easy to detect types of insti-tutionalized racism in the school and even in the hidden curric-ula. Therefore, the minority student needs someone who is able to open doors, give advice, and accompany him or her in situations which involve power and status relationships between dominant and dominated groups at different levels of a society. When we apply this to a religious community, we can begin to consider the customs of the congregation and its particular provincial statutes to discover cultural differences which could render harmonious living difficult. Advocacy involves seeing that house libraries have sufficient current books and periodicals in the mother tongue and insisting upon minority representation at Review for Religious various levels of formation and administration even to the actual selection of superiors who are open, tolerant and appreciative of other cultures represented in the community. Benjamin Schwarz states: "Dissatisfied minorities want, at a minimum, a real voice in determining their future--but a real voice for the minority means real sacrifice for the majority." Corollary. 4. Those who enjoy acceptance in the dominant society and who are comfortable with the everyday life in the religious community spontaneously offer direction and knowledgeable advocacy. They also help to provide a voice for the ethnic minority members of the community. Toward Multiculturalization Developing multicultural awareness in a community requires many changes. Pedersen concludes his work for cross-cultural counselors by stating that the many changes involved "will pro-duce a widening ripple effect as these changes bring about other changes." He continues: "We are moving toward a future that requires us to understand persons who are different from our-selves, whatever our culture might be. Developing multicultural awareness is the strategy for our survival as well as our growth in meeting the diverse needs of a multicultural global village." In a recent letter to all the friars, Herman Schaluck the gen-eral of the Order of Friars Minor, told his brothers that the new projects which the order has embarked upon in Africa, Thailand, and the former Soviet Union were intentionally international and multicultural in makeup to sign a new way of thinking. In spite of the difficulties inherent in the understanding of an international, multicultural fraternity, the order seeks this new quality of liv-ing together. The general explains: "Paul insistently states (Ga 6) that it is not a matter of being Jews or pagans, of being cir-cumcised or uncircumcised, but of being a 'new creature.' Life in an international [multicultural] fraternity is therefore not some-thing of secondary importance or a question of strategic maneu-vering: it is rather already evangelization itself by way of example." An Apostolic Challenge We considered a number of apparently hypothetical ques-tions about a religious community evolving from a homogeneous to a heterogeneous grouping. What happens? What changes ~uly-August 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community occur? Can it be done? Suppose we did design workshops and planning sessions on cross-cultural awareness for the total com-munity from the insights offered by education, business, and the training programs~for foreign missionaries. Suppose, to.o, we set up processes within the provincial structures for dialogue, reciprocity, and advocacy. Would the program be successful? Certainly many changes would occur, and change is almost always tension-filled and difficult to accept. However, it would be quite exciting to embark upon such a journey. It would demand much tolerance, patience, and charity on the part of the total member-ship to ensure that the program would succeed. What a sign of forgiveness, openness, trust, and conversion such a religious com-munity could offer the world around it. The approach would cer-tainly be countercultural. Only the members themselves know whether they are willing to do this. Perhaps a religious community is the only institution which can meet this challenge. I have spent many years trying to con-vince public schools, public school districts, and even welfare departments to become more multicultural but to no avail. Conversion, forgiveness, sacrifice, patience, understanding, and charity are woven into the very fabric of religious life. These are the same virtues required to make an institution multicultural. We religious are called to be a sign. Perhaps we Can be a sign to U.S. society that actually e pluribus unum is realizable. Bibliography Baker, C. Foundations of Bilingt~.al Education and Bilingualism. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters, 1993. Banks, J.A., and McGee Banks, C.A., eds. Multicultural Education. Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1989. Bialystok, E., and Hakuta, K. In Other Words. New York: Basic Books, 1994. Cummins, J. Empowering Minority Students. Sacramento: CABE, 1989. Delgado-Gaitan, C. "Traditions and Transitions in the Learning Process of Mexican Children: A Ethnographic View." In Spindler, G. and L. (eds.) Interpretive Ethnography of Education: At Home and Abroad. Hillsdale: Laurence Erlbaum, 1987a. Delgado-Gaitan, C. "Parent Perceptions of School: Supportive Environments for Children." In Trueba, H. (ed.) Success or Failure? Learning and the Language Minority Student. Cambridge: Harper and Row, 1987b. Review for Religious Delgado-Gaitan, C~, and' Trueba, H. Crossing Cultural Borders: Education for Immigrant Families in America. New York: Falmer, 1991. Freire, P. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Seabury, 1970. Freire, P. The Politics of Education. Boston: Bergin and Garvey, 1985. Hanley, K., csj. Cross Cultural Training Services. Maryknoll, New York, Harr.is, ER., and Moran, R.T. Managing Cultural Differences. Houston: Gulf Publishing, 1991. Lambert, W.E., and Taylor, D.M. Coping with Cultural and Racial Diversi~y in Urban America. New York: Praeger, 1990. Larson, D.N., and Smalley,'W.A. Becoming Bilinguak A Guide to Learning Language. California: William Carey Library, 1972. Law, E.H.E The VVolf Shall Dwell with the Lamb. St. Louis: Chalice Press, 1993. Motte, personal correspondence, 1995. Otheguy, R. "Thinking about Bilingual Education: A Critical Appraisal." Harvard Educatiorial Review 52 (3), 1982. Pedersen, P. A Handbook for Developing Multicultural Awareness: Alexandria: A~. erican CounselingAssociation, 1994. Schaluck, H., OFM. "On the Way Towards a New Era," May 8. Prot. 083!.19. S'chwarz, B. "The Diversity Myth: America's Leading Export." The Atlantic Monthly 275 (5), 1985. Spindler, G., and Spindler, L., eds. Pathways to Cultural Awareness. Thousand Oaks: Sage, 1994. Trueba, H.T., Jacobs, L., and Kirton, E. Cultural Conflict and Adaptation: The Case of Hmong Children in American Society. New York: Falmer, 1990. JUST PUBLISHED-- The Best of the Review - 5 The Church and 'Consecrated Life (see insert at back of book for ordering) "At a time when hope for religious life and its future is once again on the rise, the articles in this book offer an exceptional and much needed panorama of the critical issues of renewal faced by contemporary men and women religious. Elizabeth McDonough and David Fleming have done us an enormous favor in bringing together the Best of the Review in this area. I recommend this book enthusiastically; its authors take us another step along the journey to that future for religious life for which we all long." --Se~nSammon FMS Vicar General Marist Brothers, Rome 3~uly-August 1996 new life ROBERT E MALONEY It's Summer! A Letter to Young Religious J My dear brothers and sisters, It is wonderful to be young. At least, most of us who have grown older think so! Young adulthood is the summer of life; autumn and winter follow only later. In the vibrant years of youth, heart, respiration, and physical strength are at their peak efficiency. Our inner drives, too, are fully alive: our quest for meaning, our longing for deeper rela-tionships, our yearning to create a better future. I am writ-ing today to encourage you who are young to enjoy, and use well, the gifts of this summertimh in your life. Youth has many striking advantages. As the superior general of a community, I often see these in the lives of young religious, both men and women. Let me describe some of them briefly. First, youth has drive and enthusiasm. It is good to rejoice in youth's vigor. I can remember a period in my life when I could interview ~tudents all day long, prepar.e classes until late at night, be up again at five the next morning for prayer and the Eucharist, and then teach a full schedule. The day arrived when I could no longer do that. But I still look back with happy memories on the vibrant energies of youth. Young people can give with zest. And they want to give their lives to something'worth-while. They seek a cause, and when they find one they Robert P. Maloney CM serves as superior general of the Vincentians. His address is Congregazione della Missione; Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. Revie~ for Religious ? launch into it with enthusiasm. ,Their dreams, their~hopes, their vision of the future have not yet been dimmed by bitter experi-ences, or failures, or the harsh fact' that much of reality changes quite slowly. Young people gaze at the world's needs and believe that they can make a contribution. Second, youth has imagination and spontaneity. Young people bring new horizons to communities~ They have the capacity to envision new solutions, They often feel free from rigid categories or structures that have become creaky or clumsily reinforced over the years. They find it easy to identify with the words of Vincent' de Paul that "love is inventive even to infinity.''1 They are willing to "dream the impossible dream." Spontaneity is one of the refreshing aspects of youth. Young people say unexpected things. They question practices that some of us older people never had any doubts about. At times we may find that. their questions make us uncomfortable or defensive. But we should by no means be quick to interpret youth's spontaneity as a sign of aggres-siveness; rather, it often comes from a genuine desire to seek the truth. Third, youth is able to change. Those of us who are older have ploughed deep furrows. It becomes increasingly harder for us to climb out of the ruts we have dug. The furrows of the young are shal-lower. They can be ploughed over. Their direction can be changed so that new waters run through them and new life sprouts up. That is why good initial formation is important for the young. They are pliable enough to ~hink new thoughts, learn new.ways, and create new things. Of course, youth has its struggles too, its gnawing problems. Let me dwell just for a moment on a few of these. Because youth is searching, it is often uncertain about its goals or even its values. Experience tells us that, today especially, young people have diffi-culty making a permanent commitment. There is so much rapid change in society, there is so much disillusionment with those whose values the young may once have prized, that they find it hard to decide where to sink their roots. This means that young people are often confused. They are grappling with the meaning of their live~i They are hesitant about making a definitive commitment. Experience tells us that, today especially, young people have difficulty making a permanent commitment. ff~uly-August 1996 Malone~ * It's Summer? One of the greatest challenges in ministry today is to present attractive, even risky, alternatives to young people and accom-pany them in the difficult task of deciding, Several recent studies point out that young'people seek explicit religious goals, intense community life and solidarity, and explicit and worldwide service to the most needy. Young people can certainly find these goals realized in the call to follow Christ faithfully and to give them-selves to the church's preferential option for the poor. Young people often struggle with thei~ sexuality. Of course, those of us who are older are engaged in the same~struggle too. But the young experience in an~ awakening way strong physical drive; sex-ual energy, a desire for close, intimate relationships. And, unfor-tunately, the turbulent years of adolescence often do not come to a calm, peaceful resolution, but rather to a negotiated truce, after which war may soon break out again. It is~helpful for those of us who live in community to recognize that this is a basic human story, not just ours. It is also important for the young to speak about their sexual struggles with great simplicity with a wise spiritual guide. Youth lacks experience. This is an inevitable fact. All of us expe~ rience life's joys and its sorrows only gradually. Growth takes time. Yet there is a deep knowledge and love that come only from experience. There is gold that can be refined only in the fire. Of Course, not everyone who experiences life's joys and .suf-ferings grows, But, on the other hand, no one grows without a healthy dose of realistic experience. Our ongoing formation pro-grams must. help young people reflect on their experience and grow from it. Having said all this, let me acknowledge that I have painted with broad strokes. Some of the gifts that I have described as characterizing young people are often found in good measure in those who are older too. Likewise, some of the problems that have briefly touched on above plague not just the young, buvalso their elders. Today let me lay before you, young religious, a series of chal-lenges. As .the superior general of an apostolic community, I find that these are the most important things in my heart as I think of the many young men and women who long to live religious life generously today. I call them challenges because my own per-sonal experience, with its frequent failures, tells me they are not easy to respond to deeply. Review for Religious Be deeply rooted in the person of Jesus. This seems obvious, but there is nothing more important that as an older brother I could say to you. "Remember," St. Vincent de Paul once wrote, "that we live in Jesus Christ by the death of Jesus Christ and that we ought to die in Jesus Christ by the life of Jesus Christ and that our life ought to be hidden in Jesus Christ and full of Jesus Christ and that in order to die like Jesus Christ it is necessary to live like Jesus Christ.''2 The Gospels ring with this conviction: Jesus is the absolute center. "I am the way, the truth, and the life," Jesus says. "No one comes to the Father except through me." "I am the vine." "I am the gate." "I am the shepherd." "I am the light." "I am the true bread come down from heaven. The one who feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood will live forever.''3 Let me simply recall to you today the wonderful prayer attributed to St. Patrick: Chri]t be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me, Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me. Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ in c~'uiet, Christ in danger, Christ in hearts of all that love me, Christ in mouth of friend and stranger. I recommend two principal means for focusing on the per-son of Jesus, The first is daily meditative prayer. Make Christ the center of that prayer, especially the crucified Lord. Engage in a well-defined period of reflective prayer each day (for example, a half hour), and let the Lord capture your mind and your heart. The second means--and it is not completely distinct from the .first--is to find, love, and serve Christ in the person of the poor. They are our lords and masters. Jesus li~es on in them in a special way, particularly in the crucified peoples. It is so easy for the "world," and for us too, to become numb to their plight: the 5.7 million people of Haiti, who have been so poor for so long that their pain is no longer news; the 2.5 million Bosnian refugees, victims of "ethnic cleansing"i the 1.5 million Somalians on the edge of death by starvation; the countless Rwandans who have been brutally slain. Our contemplation of the crucified Lord can-not remain merely a pious exercise, nor can it be simply medita-tion on a past event. The Lord lives on in his members. He is .~uly-Auffust 1996 Maloney ¯ It's Summer? crucified in individual persons and in suffering peoples. The call is to see him and to serve him there. "When I was hungry you gave me to eat. When Iwas thirsty you gave me to drink.When I was naked you clothed me" (Mt 25:35-36). Learn from. the poor, and be inventive in serving them. I say this to you very directly: it is only the simple and hum~ ble who really grow in the Lord's life. Only0 they can learn the depths of God's wisdom. The saints knew this very well because they had made the gospel teachings their own. That is why the founders of communities urge. all their members to grow in sim-plicity and humility. Learn especially from the poor. They can teach all of us about gratitude for small gifts, about patience in waiting, about hoping against hope, about loving those around us, even in the midst of suffering and oppression, and about shar-ing the little that we have with our brothers and sisters. It is only when we have learned from the poor that we can be inventive in serving them. It is they who will explain to us their deepest needs, and then we can bring them gifts that will really be helpful. Your creativity and imaginativeness as young people will be nourished by what you can learn from them. They will be a life-giving source in your ongoing formation. I encou

Issue 53.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1994. ; Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUaRY 199Zl. - V6LUME ~; ¯ NUMBER 1~o Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universi~ by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ Fax: 314-535~0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, 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. ©1994 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. review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Sefin Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARYI994 ¯ VOLUME53 '* NUMBER I contents feature Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God Elizabeth A. Johnson CSJ relates the stress within religious life to the loss of traditional God images and the search now for the hidden face of the living God. 29 43 58 toward the synod The Consecrated Life in Church and World Bishop Jan P. Schotte CICM explains the synod of bishops, with brief descriptions of previous ones and the 1994 synodal process. Charism, Charisms, and Faddism A. Paul Dominic SJ brings clarity to the Lineamenta treatment of the charism of religious life and the charisms of its many con-crete forms in various congregations. Hopes for the Synod and Beyond Joel Giallanza CSC focuses his attention on the identity and mis-sion of apostolic religious congregations and their relationship to the hierarchy. 64 73 82 mission and ministry Images of Hope in an Inner-City Parish George M. Anderson SJ shows God working in unlikely places, making use of humble and broken people to advance the values for which Jesus died and rose. A Bracelet of Elephant'sHair Jo O'Donovan RSM shares her sabbatical experience of an "outer" and "inner" Africa. The Modern Development of Messianic Prophecy Allen S. Maller presents for our ecumenical consideration a deeply felt Jewish view of Messianic meaning and fulfillment. 2 Review for Religious experiencing the spirit 89 Living in the Womb of God Marion Zeltmann PCPA reflects upon her experience of enclosure and prayer as a Poor Clare. 95 Do I Really Believe that Death Leads to Life? Francis Blouin FIC suggests some practical ways of responding to the current dyings manifest in religious life. 102 A Rite for Those Departing Religious Formation Peter A. Lyons suggests positive and wholesome ways in which individuals departing from religious life and ~he community mem-bers who remain might deal ritually with this reality. 107 120 130 religious life issues Integrating Human Needs in Religious Formation Howard J. Gray SJ suggests ways of viewing human needs as "longings," radical desires to be integrated in the art of religious ministry. Chapters Present and Future Catherine M. Harmer MMS reviews the history of chapters in reli-gious life and raises questions about their future functioning. Religious Life, a Continuum Francis Assisi Kennedy OSF examines, historical beginnings of reli-gious congregations for patterns surprisingly serviceable today. departments 4 Prisms 142 Canonical Counsel: The Conciliar Decree Perfectae Caritatis 149 Book Reviews Jan~mry-February 1994 3 prisms 1994--a year still to be lived, a year yet to pass into history. For most people there is a healthy anticipation of "good things" when new begin-nings are made. Perhaps such "anticipation" should be called, rather, a precious grace which interconnects us with God, the eternal optimist. New evangelization is the most consistently optimistic theme of John Paul II's papacy. While his encyclicals and apostolic exhortations are many and weighty (witness the most recent Splendor of Truth), I suspect that his repeated call to a new evangelization will be the most significant and lasting grace for the church. The call is a beginning similar to the beginning of a year; it is not as if evange-lization is any newer than the parade of days which form any year's calendar. The newness in large part comes from the attitude with which we enter into evangelization, just as it comes from the way we enter into another year. The oft-quoted phrase about this call to evangelization being "new in its vigor, new in its methods, and new in its expression" is grounded in the attitude which we bring to our Christian responsibility as evangelizers. Attitude alone is not enough, but unless the grace of optimism warms our efforts as believers in Good News to share it and explain it and to offer people a challenge, little evange-lization is the result. Do members of religious congregations need to see a more intimate connection between the new evangeliza-tion and their own efforts at renewal? Since all forms of Christian life come from our having the gospels in our blood, it would seem obvious that an evangelization effort promotes effective renewal. The gospels not only have 4 R~,iew for Religio~s inspired the different forms of religious life, but also have helped shape its various expressions and methods. Men and women moved by the Spirit of Christ have gifted the church with at least three prismatic "colors" of Christ-following that look monastic or mendicant or apostolic. The question remains for us today who have been illumined by these various Christ-prisms how our gospel-inspired attitude can reveal the graced mystery of this life-form in terms of new depths of meaning and new ways of expres-sion- in the very heritage we claim. The darkness we feel comes not from Jesus, the light-source whom we follow, but from our own self-chosen, squint-eyed angle of vision having so little to do with grace or gospel. So often our efforts at renewal seem more a vain search for one "tree of life" instead of for the God who gives all created gifts for our creatively discerned use. Optimism marks the effort of anyone who begins something. An evangelical optimism seems almost lacking both in internal reli-gious congregation renewal attempts and in hierarchical control efforts. As we begin this year of the synod on consecrated life, our prayer for ourselves and our church begs again for that grace dear to our God imaged as the prodigal parent who expects the son (and daughter) to be coming up the road--the grace of opti-mism. As we begin this new volume, Review for Religious warmly welcomes Regina Siegfried, a member of the Sister Adorers of the Blood of Christ, Ruma province, as associate editor. She serves currently as assistant professor of historical studies and spiritual-ity at Aquinas Institute in St. Louis. Former editor of Spirituality Today, she is well known for her books Selected Poetry of Jessica Powers, edited with Bishop Robert Morneau, and In the Company of Preachers, edited with Edward Ruane OP. Review for Religious accepts graciously the loss of Michael Harter SJ as associate editor. In his new role assignment as direc-tor of novices for the Jesuit Missouri provirice, he can assure young candidates' solid formation through their familiarity with articles from Review for Religious. So in losing an editor, I am sure that we are gaining a number of new subscribers. Just as he leaves this media field, his prayer book, Hearts on Fire: Praying with Jesuits, has been published by the Institute of Jesuit Sources in St. Louis and is already in its second printing. We wish him well and know that we will miss him. David L. Fleming SJ January-February 1994 5 feature ELIZABETH A. JOHNSON Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God As the third millennium of the Western, Christian calen-dar approaches, all manner of assessments are being made about what will fade into history and what will newly flourish in the year 2001 and afterwards. It does not take a new millennium, however, to see that religious life in the United States is passing through an epochal change, the outcome of which in terms of fade or flourish is an open question. The research project "The Future of Religious Orders in the United States," conducted by David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis under the sponsorship of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops, the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, and the Leadership Council of Women Religious, sets out fully aware of this moment in history2 The original proposal for this study underscores the rad-icality of the journey now underway. Religious orders, it notes, are in the midst of a process of transformation, defined in categories from the social sciences to mean: The operation of changing (as by mapping or through strategies) one configuration or expression into another in accordance with a rule, a purpose or mission. Elizabeth Johnson csJ is associate professor of theology at Fordham University. This article will be part of a companion book to The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment, (Praeger Publishers, 1993) by David J. Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis. Her address is Department of Theology; Fordham University; Bronx, New York 10458-5165. 6 Review for Religious Such change, furthermore, involves: qualitative, discontinuous shifts in organizational members' shared understandings of the organization, accompanied by changes in the organization's mission, strategy, and formal and informal structures. The most basic questions of group and individual identity, involving who religious are, how they are to live, what they are to do, and why, are all at stake. Religious orders in this country, the proposal continues, are in the midst of a transformative process so profound that it will lead to the demise of some, the revitalizing of others, and the birth of new forms of the evangelical life as yet unimagined. The aim of this research project is to identify factors within religious orders themselves that will contribute to a suc-cessful outcome of this major metamorphosis. Recent historical studies have unveiled a heartening picture of how the evangelical following of Jesus in the church, traditionally called "religious life," has been incarnated in a great diversity of forms. From monastic to mendicant to apostolic communities, to mention but a few of the more widespread models, new forms of this living movement have consistently emerged from the insights of individuals and groups responding to the Spirit in the crucible of cultural change. A compelling interpretation of the present sit-uation holds that in the United States, at least, the present crisis of religious orders signals yet another breakthrough in the many-faceted evolution of forms of the evangelical life. If this be true, this is the first time in the history of the church that members of religious orders in a time of transition have been so self-con-sciously aware of their situation and so equipped with the tools of modern research that they can reflect on and even direct the pro-cess of change. The purpose of this essay is to provide a theological context for the data that follows. It is important to note that this essay was commissioned, designed, and largely written before the research project was completed. Therefore it should not be read as an interpretation of the project's findings. Rather, it is intended as an independently conceived reflective piece on this moment in the history of religious life. To .contextualize the report that follows, this essay first surveys the state of the question in contemporary literature on religious life and then identifies a basic shift occur-ring that affects all the rest and that holds great portent for the future, namely, a change in the experience of God.2 January-February 1994 7 Johnson ¯ Between the Times The living tradition of the change of forms of religious life is still alive; the great cycle of death and rebirth is turning once again. State of the Question Starting in the late 1970s, a number of excellent works have contributed to discussion of the meaning of religious life and have expressed the emerging self-understanding of religious them-selves. Written by or available to members of religious orders in North America, the list includes works on the history, sociology, and theology of the life as lived by both women and men in general,3 as well as works that focus on the experiences of women4 or men5 in particular. The imagery and language of these writings reflect the enormous tension in the state of the question, both as lived and reflected upon. There is a prevalence of "re" words: revitalize, refound, rein-terpret, reimagine, reweave, redefine, rebirth. Metaphors point to new creative acts: pouring new wine into new wine-skins; reweaving the threadbare cloth; standing at the crossroads and discerning the way ahead; planting new seeds; mid-wiring a birth; bringing order out of chaos. The focus is consistently on the future: shaping the coming age, strate-gizing for growth, negotiating the challenge of change, claiming identity, being converted. Individual differences of approach in this literature recede when compared with the convergences that these writings dis-play. Virtually all of the authors are seized by the conviction that in the Western democracies the missionary and apostolic mod-els of religious life, prevalent for the last two hundred years, are dying. Relatively speaking and in some cases literally, "there is no one behind us." But this does not mean that religious life itself is dying, for no one form has ever been definitively lasting as the predominant form for every era. What it may well mean, however, is that the living tradition of the change of forms of religious life is still alive; the great cycle of death and rebirth is turning once again,6 The present malaise and decline, if lived through with discernment, fidelity, and courage, can lead to new, yet-to-be-determined forms commensurate with the cultural realities of the third millennium. 8 Review for Religious This being the case, the literature is replete with enlighten-ing analyses of ecclesial and cultural factors at work in the present changes. It also indicates that a strong consensus is taking shape regarding the way forward. A prophetic stance suffused with con-templation is being glimpsed as the crucial spiritual force that seeks expression in coming forms of religious life. Both the anal-ysis and this key proposal are surveyed here as interesting in their own right and as factors that themselves point further to a foun-dational experience of God. Changes in Church and Society The literature agrees that the most important ecclesial factor underlying the shift in religious life's self-understanding contin-ues to be Vatican II's two-pronged theological articulation of the church's identity and mission. Ad intra (internally) the church is first and foremost the people of God, with every member conse-crated by baptism and empowered to life in Christ. The conse-quent universal call to holiness undercuts the traditional notion that religious life is an elite state of perfection whose members are spiritually set above ordinary lay people. Rather, religious live out their call to holiness as a sacrament or sign to the whole church of its Spirit-filled vocation. Ad extra (externally) the church is to turn pastorally toward the world as God's good creation, marred by sin but redeemed by Christ and worthy of attention. The mission of the church in the world undermines the tradi-tional dualism between the sacred and the secular, along with the concomitant idea that religious should be set apart from the world. Rather, they are to live in relation to the world, not over against but ~vith and for, in criticism and compassion. The conciliar shift from a juridical to a more-biblically-based pastoral identity and mission, still being contested and negotiated in the church at large, undergirds the changes in self-understanding, lifestyle, and ministry that now affect traditional forms of religious life. Since the council, additional ecclesial factors have appeared that continue to impinge upon religious life in the United States. The ongoing efforts by religious orders to reinterpret founding charisms is occurring in the context of postconciliar reinterpre-rations of the Catholic biblical, theological, and liturgical tradi-tions themselves. The infusion of insight from these sources is resulting in new and influential understandings, such as the rad- .January-Febrnary 1994 9 Johnson ¯ Between the Times ¯ ical equality of all in baptismal grace. Furthermore, the postcon-ciliar explosion of lay ministries, both ecclesially sponsored and lay initiated, is multiplying the possibilities open to those who wish to serve in the church beyond the confines of traditional religious life. At the same time it creates a situation of shared, collabora-tive ministry between religious and the laity. In these same years, the original immigrant church in this country has reached mainstream status with the majority of its members moving into the middle class. More options for service and advancement have opened up in the civil sector, lessening the church's attraction as the primary field for a dedicated life. In addition, the economic and educational mores of middle-class life coupled with the availability of birth control has resulted in the reduced size of Catholic families, thus shrinking the pool from which candidates for religious life were traditionally drawn. Meanwhile, a new wave of immigration from Latin America and Asia is presently changing the face of the church; one-third of Catholics in the United States are now Hispanic, half of whom are younger than eighteen years of age. Despite outstanding service on the part of some religious of European descent, however, dif-ferences of culture, race, class, and age, if not overt, prejudice, seem to prev.ent the majority of religious orders from making an effective case for their way of life to members of new immigrant groups. Eras do not repeat themselves. All of these ecclesial factors are playing out in the wider con-text of the church .becoming a world church, less European in character and belonging to all cultures; a church of the diaspora, less supported by a homogeneous culture and more a little flock in a pluralist world; and a church in interreligious dialogue, open to the wisdom of other great religious traditions. Social, economic, and political forces at work in the culture of the United States are also contributing to changes in religious life) These forces are many and complex, but several consistently surface in the literature: democracy, which yields a more partic-ipative rather than authoritative style of governance; global aware-ness, which subverts provincialism; growing consciousness of economic and social injustice at home and abroad, which demands action to relieve poverty and promote justice; pervasive violence, which highlights the need for teaching and modeling peaceful resolution of conflicts; materialism, which calls for a countercul-tural witness to simplicity of life and the value of the human over 10 Review for Religious the product; excessive individualism, which cries out for the anti-dote of a genuine community of free and responsible persons; ethnocentrism, racism, and insensitivity to other cultures, which needs the word of the gospel about the fundamental human dig-nity of every person; and feminism, which advocates the equal inclusion of women in that human dignity. The search in the United States for a new, more humane society among ourselves, between all nations, and between human beings and the natural world of this planet contextualizes and begins to inspire the search for new, vital forms of religious life. In a striking way, ecclesial and cul-tural factors have converged in the rise of Christian feminism and its influ-ence in women's religious orders. It is indisputable that women's insights into how to live the evangelical life have never yet been allowed full scope in the course of church history, even now. Perhaps it was the play of prov-idence that unleashed the conciliar reforms at the very moment that the women's movement was gathering force once again in the United States. It is indisputable that women's insights into how to live the evangelical life have never yet been allowed full scope in the course of church history, even now. In any event, while renewing their lives in the light of the gospel and their founding charisms and while strengthening their witness in the world, especially among those depriv.ed of human dignity, women religious became aware of themselves as women in a patri-archal church and society. They .began to notice the systemic absence and silence of women in church pol!cy-making bodies and ministries, its obvious connection with gender, and the result-ing pressures on the way they lived their lives. Contextualized by the women's movement in church and society, they began to find their own voice and to claim, even for themselves, the respect befitting a human person. Women's experience was affirmed as a legitimate if untapped source of knowledge about religious life and its ministry, prayer, community, and governance, and this found expression in their reflection, dialogue, and new constitu-tions. The result of this awakening was a release of energy that bore and continues to bear promise for the future of religious January-February 1994 11 Johnson ¯ Between the Times life. But it also brings conflict as men church authorities refuse to reverence or dialogue with the insights coming from women's experience, insisting rather on conformity to their own under-standing and law. At this point the alienation of legions of women in the church is a matter of public record. Women religious, too, know this darkness. But among women religious in the United States at the end of the twentieth century, the conviction per-dures that the goals of Christian feminism are fully in accord with the gospel. They continue to grapple with issues of identity and mission with the understanding that through their struggle the Spirit of God is offering a transforming grace to the whole church, although, terrifyingly, grace may always be refused.8 In and through all of this analysis of ecclesial and cultural factors that affect religious life today, authors have been seeking clues as to how this life will be able to flourish in the future. The search appears to be narrowing. Glimpse of a New Form: Prophetic, Contemplative Life In books and essays about religious life and in documents generated by religious orders and the national conferences, a new combination of ancient dements is beginning to define the essen-tial character of religious life. The emerging understanding of this life is primarily that of persons and communities called to prophetic ministry embedded in a contemplative relationship to God. Prophecy and mysticism, prophetic witness and contem-plation, will shape the evangelical life of love of God and neigh-bor in its coming age. The two national conferences of men and of women religious place this insight at the head of the list of ten transformative ele-ments they identify for religious life in the future: 1. Prophetic Witness: Being converted by the example of Jesus and the values of the gospel, religious in the year 2010 will serve a prophetic role in church and society. Living this prophetic wimess will include critiquing social and ecclesial values and structures, calling for systemic change and being converted by the marginalized with whom we serve. 2. Contemplative, Attitude Toward Life: Religious in 2010 will have a contemplative attitude toward all creation and be motivated by the presence of the sacred? 12 Review forReligious In a similar way the visioning groups studied in the Futures Project as well as those identified by the research as outstanding leaders consistently and vigorously endorsed the prophetic/con-templative stance. Far from being an esoteric perspective, this stance brings to light what is most basic in Christian faith and what the church itself needs to emphasize in order to thrive in the future. As Karl Rahner foresaw, the spirituality of the future will arise from rela-tion with the living God at the very heart of the world and con-sequently "will be a spirituality of the Sermon on the Mount and of the evangelical counsels, continually involved in renewing its protest against the idols of wealth, pleasure, and power.''t° This is the calling of the church as a whole, and religious life crystallizes and witnesses to this. The two constituent elements, prophecy and contemplation, can be distinguished mentally and examined separately, but in reality they form one living shape, one wholistic form, one gestalt of life. Asking which comes first is a chicken-and-egg kind of question, with no intelligible answer in sight.1~ Contemplation is a way of seeing that leads to union. It arises from an experience of connection with the sacred at the very core of life. Mediated, as always, by created things such as words, images, and actions, this relationship unfolds as persons and com-munities allow these mediations to lead them into the living pres-ence of the holy. Insofar as the created mediations themselves are transcended in contemplation, this experience counteracts the human effort to control the divine and instead delivers the spirit into the bright darkness of God. From one perspective, the con-nection with the sacred is a result of the inflow of the love of God inflaming and awakening the heart. From another, it entails the discipline of becoming fully conscious, journeying to one's deepest self and to the outer limits of the cosmos in order to touch the divine. In the process, the contemplative "knows" God not in an extrinsic, conceptual way but from within, experien-tially. At the very heart of existence one is in touch with holy mystery, a relation for which the I-Thou relationship among human beings is only a remote analogy. As a result, a certain intuition arises by which one begins to know and love the world as God does. This attitude is totally inclusive of all creation. Everything created is precious and sacred within the cosmic ambience of life and is cause for delight and January-February 1994 13 Johnson ¯ Between the Times thanks. But the evident brokenness of the world and damage done persons and other creatures are cause for grief, compassion, and protest. In some unspeakable situations,, the utter depravity of evil occasions the most profound, wordless hope against hope, without any supports, in the risk that God is faithful in judgment and grace. The contemplative attitude is thus not otherworldly but pro-foundly turned toward this world in celebration and resistance, knowing that the Creator is also the Redeemer. The prophetic lifestyle and action that express this way of seeing are not the result of simple humanism (although the world could use a lot more of this too) but of real belief in God. In solidarity with divine purpose for the world, prophetic persons and communities desire to restore right relationships and so to set right what causes pain and suffering. While this has always been the case, the hermeneutic of prophecy in our day with its sophisticated knowl-edge of systems realizes that the wounds of the heart also afflict culture. Thus prophetic witness includes critique not just of per-sonal acts but also of social, economic, and political structures and values in society. Knowing, too, that we are a sinful church always in need of repentance and reform, this witness is borne toward the values and structures of the community itself. The prophetic stance is marked by a number of characteris-tics. These include attentive listening to the creative Spirit of God, connecting with the suffering in a situation and evaluating its causes, naming what is unjust, being empowered to articulate an alternative future based on the dream of God for the world, bringing compassion and hope to the brokenness, and resistance and challenge to the status quo that would maintain it. In the process prophetic persons and communities strive to empower people in their struggle to live and survive, in turn being taught and empowered by them to continue to seek the face of God. In the Christian tradition this witness is shaped by the fol-lowing of Jesus, in whom the compassion of God takes flesh in the world. Contemplation and prophecy were indivisibly connected in his historical life. As Edward Schillebeeckx explains, "In the prophet Jesus, mysticism and healing came from one and the same source--his experience of the contrast between the living God and the history of human suffering." ~2 The reign of God that he announced envisages an end to exploitation or suppression; his ministry in word and deed enacted practical anticipations of this 14 Review for Religious salvation to come. His own drink from the cup of suffering in torment and execution and the seal of God's graciousness in the resurrection ground a hope in human history that has empow-ered discipleship ever since. Remembrance of Jesus through the power of the Spirit guides and informs the life of prophecy and ~ontemplation in the church. This vision of a wholistic con-templative, prophetic shape to reli-gious life in the future, glimpsed in the literature, is already a living, growing reality in some cases. It also stands in contrast to the overall shape of religious life in the present, which has become domesticated by too close an identification with the law, structure, and spirituality of the institutional church. In a particularly eloquent argument, Diarmuid O'Murchu, taking a clue from reli-gious life as it is lived in Eastern religions, contends that religious life in the west needs to reclaim its liminal identity, a move of genuine conversion en.tailing profound change in spirit and structure. Re!igious would then be known as persons and communities who are in touch with the sacred, passionately committed to just and loving relationships, fiercely resistant against exploitation of the earth and of persons, and willing to live countercultural lifestyles with and for the marginalized. They would stand in church and society a.s liminal, archetypal, prophetic persons, articulating and empowering the deepest love.13 To arrive at this goal, religious must confront many chal-lenges and questions. A key CMSM paper muses: People in general probably do not think of us as genuine prophets. What must we do, what price must we pay, if we wish to embrace a prophetic stance? How can we be prophetic without becoming triumphalistic? How can we be prophetic without losing a ministry .to the middle class which is the social origin of nearly all of us? How can we learn to read the signs of the times and discern more surely the thrust of prophecy? What steps must we take to arrive at solid social and cultural analysis? How can we relate our The contemplative attitude is thus not otherworldly but profoundly turned toward this world in celebration and resistance, knowing that the Creator is also the Redeemer. ~anuary-February 1994 15 Johnson * Between the Times traditional institutions to the prophetic role? How can we motivate ourselves, with God's grace, to accept a materi-ally poor standard of living? We have more questions than answers, but we believe that we are on the way to a new, more prophetic presence within the U.S. Church.~4 The Futures Project identifies "fidelity to purpose" and "response to absolute human need" as the two most basic ele-ments for the revitalization of religious life. As this brief survey of the literature shows, the search for the sacred in resistance to what afflicts the world is being fingered as the purpose that will shape the new form of this life. The move toward a contemplative-prophetic stance augurs well for the future insofar as it grapples with the religious heart of the matter in the context of the suf-fering of the contemporary world. Experience of God My own reflection on these matters brings me to a founda-tional area not frequently mentioned in the literature, namely, the idea of God that undergirds the evangelical life. The fasci-nation with the mystery of God is endemic to religious life every-where and at all times. The varieties of structures and self-understandings that have emerged in the course of history only serve to underscore this fact. As Sandra Schneiders observes, "Whatever unites all these people is more interior and spiritual than forms of life or types of behavior."15 The common thread that unites them all is a search for relationship with the sacred, leading to a certain kind of absorption with the religious dimen-sion of life. "Those who are called 'religious' in the technical sense of the word," writes John Lozano, "have decided to adopt a way of life whose intrinsic, underlying explanation is religious experience.''16 This way of life intends to give daily, concrete expression to the experience of God, to empower its further devel-opment, and to manifest its fruits publicly. Put another way by Ladislaus Orsy, the only reason for religious life is the experi-ence of God. This being so, it seems vitally important to inquire about the idea of God that is presupposed at any given moment, for this structures the experience of God that sustains the entire endeavor. As the primary symbol of the whole religious system, the idea of God is a lodestar. It represents what a community takes to be the 16 Review for Religious highest good, the profoundest truth, the most appealing beauty. Thus it is not a neutral concept, but functions powerfully to shape the personal and corporate identity of believers. A religion, for example, which would speak about a warlike God and extol the way he smashes his enemies to bits would promote aggressive group behavior. By contrast, speech about a beneficent and lov-ing God who forgives offenses would turn the faith community toward care for the neighbor and mutual forgiveness.'7 By definition, the One whom people call God is the recipient of absolute human trust, God being "that to which your heart clings and entrusts itself" in the memorable phrase of Martin Luther (OSA).~s Consequently, the idea of God implicitly guides all of a person's and community's principles, choices, system of values, enterprises, and relationships. The symbol of God func-tions. Neither abstract in content nor feeble in its effect, it sums up a people's sense of ultimate mystery, the proper order of the world, and the right orientation of human life and devotion. Along with many others, I sense that a seismic shift is occur-ring in the experience and idea of God in our day and culture. Fully aware that not all people who live at the same time are con-temporaries, I nevertheless think that a certain culturally condi-tioned cast of mind is emerging in our era that yields an idea of God markedly different from the classical model. VChat is emerg-ing is a notion that coherently supports and strengthens prophetic and contemplative consciousness. Thus it is not just the move from a juridical to a pastoral relation of the church to the world, nor the dissolving of the sacred-secular dualism, nor increased global and ecological awareness, nor growing consciousness of injustice, nor any of the other ecclesial and social factors that alone or together are causing the changes in religious life. Rather, at the deepest level what is transpiring, I think, is new experience of God. The Postmodern World The contemporary mind-set in the United States shaped by conditions of the late twentieth century is frequently described as postmodern. First coined in artistic, literary, and philosophical circles, this term is used in a bewildering variety of ways to describe the sentiment that humanity must go beyond the mod-ern. Like the wanderer in Kafka's parable who, when asked where January-February 1994 17 Johnson * Between the Times he is riding to, responds, "I don't know,., only away from here, away from here, only by doing so can I reach my destination,''19. postmodernity points beyond the present to what cannot yet be readily envisioned. Philosopher Stephen Toulmin refers to the world "that has not yet discovered how to define itself in terms of what it is, but only in terms of what it hasjust-now-ceased-to-be," namely, the modern world originating from the seventeenth-cen-tury Enlightenment.2° Modern!ty esteemed at least four dynamic forces: the myth of unending progress, the clear and distinct ideas of universal reason, the power of the self-contained individual directed by his soli-tary ego, and the ascendancy of human control over nature. By contrast, postmodernity is conscious of the end of progress, the limits of reason, the sad isolation of the unconnected individual, and the catastrophe that results when nature is disrespected. Not everything originating in the modern era is to be discarded. One would want to keep the emphasis on human dignity and human rights and their expressions in liberty and equality (fraternity in isolation is suspect). But postmodernity is awake to the egregious failures that the modern ethos has wrought. It wants to go Away- From-Here. Perhaps the most felicitous description comes from David Power, who observes that postmodernism is the sensibility that does not try to pretend that the twentieth century has not hap-pened. Sprung from the disruptive, out-of-control evils of this century, postmodern consciousness is aware of the chaotic, con-tingent, threatened character of existence and the fragility of the human project. Two distinct but related positions have developed within this general description. One, the option for deconstruction, seeks to undo the power and securities that produce such evils. In theory and art it pokes holes through the rationalizations of the victors, unveiling their pretensions to righteousness and order. While in its extreme form postmodern deconstruction leads to radical skep-ticism and nihilism, its bracing insights are powerfully instruc-tive as to what should not be. In tandem with this option, a second, more constructive model has emerged. Suspicious of inherited triumphal truths, it seeks out suppressed voices and sto-ries, risking new interpretations of established tradition "from the margins" in order to enable resistance to the forces of destruc-tion. Its aim, unlike nihilism, is a more just and humane universe. 18 Review for Religious It is this latter type of constructive postmodernism, found in intellectual theory, literature, and art as well as in grass-roots movements, that generates a certain kind of spirituality.21 Its char-acteristics are painted here in broad strokes. Postmodern spiri-tuality notes the ambiguous character of progress itself and takes its bearing not from the dream of untrammeled, irreversible progress fueled by a consumerist mentality, but from the suffering of those on the underside of history, keeping in view the gaps and failures of human advance. It seeks wisdom not in the clear and distinct ideas of what is claimed to be universal reason but is in reality the thought of privileged men; rather, it honors the plurality and ambiguity of human con-sciousness, sensitive to the differ-ence that difference makes according to one's social location in gender, race, and class. The com-pass of postmodern spirituality points not to rampant individual-ism and its violent outcroppings but to the importance of community The compass of postmodern spirituality points not to rampant individualism and its violent outcroppings but to the importance of community and tradition, prizing human solidarity and peace. and tradition, prizing human solidarity and peace. It finds life not in human supremacy over the earth but in affective kinship with the extended family of the cosmos. In a word, it prizes not isolation but essential connectedness; not body-mind dualism but the wholistic, embodied person; not patriarchy but inclusive fem-inism; not militarism but expenditure for the enhancement of life; not tribal nationalism but global justice. Our age is witnessing the shift to a postmodern cast of values, in theory if not always in practice. This constitutes a widespread, if not universal, cultural phenomenon in the United States, even among Christian believers. It may well signal the first phase of an axial breakthrough in human consciousness that will shape the next millennium. If so, that is of no little significance for the future of religious life in this country. For the postmodern sensi-bility in its constructive form has a strong affinity with the prophetic-contemplative stance increasingly envisioned as con- January-February 1994 19 Johnson ¯ Between the Times stitutive for the future of religious life. At the very core of that life is the experience of God. And so we come to the heart of the matter by asking how the postmodern matrix shapes the experi-ence and concept of the sacred. Postmodern Experience of God In our era the concept of God developed by rational En-lightenment theology in the context of modernity has become largely unbelievable. Whether drawn from revelation or philo-sophical inference, this by-now-traditional theism views God as the Supreme Being who created all things and who governs all things with inscrutable providence. Perfect in a way that stands in sharp contrast to the finitude of creatures, "he" (the theistic God is always referred to in male terms) is "infinite, self-existent, incor-poreal, eternal, immutable, impassible, simple, perfect, omni-scient, and omnipotent.''22 Although architect and ruler of the world, it is essential to God's deity that he be essentially unre-lated to this world and unaffected by what happens in it. This view therefore excels at stressing ,divine transcendence and its human counterpart of spirit, while divine immanence along with the importance of matter and the body tend to slip from view. This God of classical theism is modeled on the pattern of an earthly absolute monarch, a metaphor so prevalent that most often it is simply taken.for granted. As a king rules over his subjects, so God the Lord has dominion over his creatures, a view which, as Sallie McFague has shown, is intrinsically hierarchical, whether the divine reign be accomplished through dominance or benevo-lence. 23 In theory such theism adheres to the truth that the mys-tery of God is beyond all images and concepts. Yet history shows how in practice modernity tends to objectify God, reducing infi-nite mystery to an independently existing Supreme Being along-side other beings, a solitary, transcendent power who together with the world can be thought to form a larger whole. This is the idea of God that is no longer seriously imagin-able within a postmodern sensibility. Factors that contribute to its lack of cogency include the evils of this century, contemporary science and its view of the universe, liberation and feminist anal-ysis, the political disparagement of dictatorship, and the encounter among world religions. Any one of these alone would put a large question mark next to the modern symbol of the divine. Taken 20 Review for Religious together within the cultural shift to postmodern consciousness, they all but bury it. The result for people of faith is the radical loss of their famil-iar God image, along with the experience of divine presence that it mediated. Along with this also comes the loss of their sense of place in the order of the universe. As Janet Ruffing comments on the domino effect of loss of the tradi-tional God image in religious communi-ties, "All the ways we had construed our place in the sun and the meaningfulness of our commitment have been gradually eroding.''24 But this experience is not restricted to religious life; it is culture-wide and has attracted a host of com-mentators. For Martin Buber, the loss signals the eclipse of God. For Karl Rahner, it involves entry into the spiri-tuality of a bleaker season. For Constance Fitzgerald, it means the classic mystical experience of impasse and dark night. For Sandra Schneiders, this dark night is not only individual but a corporate purification. For Martin Marry, winter serves as metaphor for this season of the heart. For Michael Bucldey, it is entry into emptiness, silence, the cross in accord with the dynamic of apophatic mysticism,zs For me, this shift is poignantly summed up in the titles of the first and last books of my friend and colleague William Hill OP, now seriously ill. He broke into print with Knowing the Unknown God, an exploration of how the Thomistic category of analogy could lead the mind to God even in the contemporary world. God might be unknown, but we were possessed of some knowl-edge through the judgments we make. Now his recent essays have been collected under the rubric In Search of the Absent God. We are not in possession at all. Enmeshed in history and its suffering, we can but seek the hidden face of the living God.26 The absence of God experienced through the breakdown of traditional mediations of structure and theory does not mean, how-ever, that there is no experience of God at all. In a profound dialec-tic, what has been taken away is encountered in the ache of its loss. Divine absence itself becomes a mode of divine presence. The unknowing beckons to a deeper knowing. Th~ darkness mediates a brightness that the eyes cannot see. The wintry horizon hints at Enmeshed in history and its suffering, we can but seek the hidden face of the living God. .~anuary-February 1994 21 Johnson ¯ Between the Times new life buried beneath the snow. The cry from the depths signals an affirmation of Life deeper than pain, as did Jesus' cry from the cross. As Maura Clarke wrote from E1 Salvador, "In the very absence of God here, God has never been more present to me." 27 It all depends on the character of God. If God be trustworthy, then we hope that we are grounded and enveloped by a Living Presence even here, in the night of the senses and of the spirit. While there is no universal enactment of salvation, the sacred comes in the form of promise mediated through everyday, small fragments of healing, beauty, liberation, justice, and love. This does not remove the darkness, but it allows us to keep on walk-ing. The ice melts but will freeze again: in history there are only relative victories. Lament and celebration are both necessary. Here there are no easy assurances, no props. We know God through hope and, in the face of starkness, even hope against hope, nourished by remembrance and the circle of community. For many years now I have found the prophet of this experi-ence to be Dietrich Bonhoeffer. In his vision God is being edged out of the world and onto the cross, and that is the way, the only way, that God can be with us: "only a suffering God can help.''28 His struggle to believe culminates in the maxim "Before God and with God we live without God.'':9 This is an experience of God in which darkness is an event of disclosure, clearing the decks of a false conception of God and opening contact with the incom-prehensible holy mystery of God who goes beyond all images, all grasping, all ~elling. The manageable God of the modern age who was immediately available and could be counted upon to intervene for our benefit is no longer there. But a new experience of God is already breaking through that intensifies our compassion. Constance Fitzgerald has wisely observed that what is going on in and through this experience is "a progressive hermeneutic of~e nature of God.''3° A full theology of God has yet to be writ-ten in a postmodern context, but the typical spii'itual experience of this age is yielding an unmistakable interpretation.3~ If there be a God at all, then this is absolute holy mystery that can never be fathomed. Not literally a male person writ large, the sacred can be pointed to by any created good: male, female, animal, cosmic. This mystery does not dwell in isolation from the world but encompassesit as the Matrix of its being and becoming. God in the world and the world in God--panentheism describes the mutual relation. Thus related, the Holy One of Blessing is a God 22 Review.for Religious of pathos who participates in the suffering of the world in order to transform it from within. Divine power is the strength of love, rather than raw, monarchical omnipotence. Passionate for justice and peace and compassionate over pain, Holy Wisdom typically self-reveals in the fragmentary breakthroughs of well-being that come about through human partnership with divine purpose. Forever God acts to create a fresh, new future: liberation is her signature deed. A God like this calls for an ethic of critical com-passion. We are impelled so to utter the word of God that the world will be changed and renewed by it. Religious people of all stripes are now in the transitional posi-tion of trying to find words and symbols for this personal and collective experience of God. A common language has yet to come to light. Yet the very way the search is being conducted gives some indication of the outcome. An LCWR paper expresses the efforts of women religious in this regard: God is immanent in creation, in the midst of the web of life. As we bond with the oppressed and marginalized, we know God standing on the side of the poor and oppressed, seeing with the eyes of the poor, leading the oppressed by alleviating oppression. In this context, we see God angry, sad, suffering, marginalized; we see God incarnated in peo-ples of color, in women, in the homeless and battered, the victims of violence and oppression of all kinds. And then the inevitable: Religious find themselves in a "Dark Night." The painful and intense moments of disintegration, which carry the hope for what can break through, characterize our living in this in-between.32 To sum up, the idea of God emerging in postmodern spiritual experience is a contemporary hermeneutic of the God whose reign Jesus preached and embodied: the God of life. If the experience of God is the core of religious life, and if it is this God who is being perceived in contemporary religious experience, then here is a key tt)eological factor shaping the future of religious life in the United States. Conclusion The dialectic between divine absence and presence, in the last analysis, is an experience of the Spirit of God: radically tran- ~tanlmry-February 1994 23 Johnson ¯ Between the Times scendent, like the wind blowing where it will; and at the same time radically immanent, dwelling at the heart of the world to vivify and renew all things. Empowered by the Spirit in our age, people of faith who treasure the living memory of Jesus seek the hidden God of life (contemplation) and live out the passion of God for the world in need (prophecy). It is my sense that religious life is riding the crest of this wave in the postmodern culture of the United States. Internally its forms are breaking down; its interpretive support systems are col-lapsing; rifts with the institutional church exacerbate the dark-ness, especially among women; many members are in distress. Most radically of all, forms of religious life that traditionally medi-ated the experience of God now not only do not mediate this experience but positively block it. At the same time, consciousness of the suffering of poor and marginalized peoples grows; action on behalf of justice continues to attract; women reclaim their human dignity and the voice that goes with it; the vivifying power of God is experienced in and through the human power to chal-lenge, cherish, and set free; the divine mystery is named in new ways. Here and there religious persons and communities begin to articulate the prophetic-contemplative identity coherent with these experiences and act in mission accordingly. For religious life in the United States it is now Advent, the most honest season of all. In my judgment, the times do not call for return to the securities of a previous age. In fact, the very effort to keep alive forms of religious life that have for the most part run their historical course may well be counterproductive to the evangelical following of Jesus. Rather,what is needed is vig-ilant patience, profound prayer, and the ability to act boldly toward that future where new forms of evangelical life will develop. Notes ~ See summary by David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 257-272. Hereafter cited as the Futures Project. Also in Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55. 2 1 would like to thank the following colleagues and friends for pro-viding me with materials for this essay: Mary Ann Donovan SC, Patricia Lucas CSJ, Thomas McKenna CM, Janet Ruffing SM, and Clara Santoro CSJ. My deep gratitude also goes to Mary Catherine Hilkert OP, John W. Padberg SJ, David Power OMI, and Sandra Schneiders IHM for read-ing and critiquing the manuscript in outline or finished form. 24 Review for Religious 3 Among the works that have made significant contributions are: Gerald Arbuclde, Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (New York: Paulist, 1988). ~. Strategies for Growth in Religious Life (New York: Alba House, 1987). Marcello Azevedo, Vocation for Mission: The Challenge of Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist, 1988). Leonardo Boll, God's Witnesses in the Heart of tbe World (Chicago: Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality, 1981). Lawrence Cada et al., Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (New York: Seabury, 1979). Robert Daly et al., eds., Religious Life in the U.S. Church: The New Dialogue (New York: Paulist, 1984). Barbara Fiand, Living the Vision: Religious Vows in an Age of Change (New York: Crossroad, 1990). David A. Fleming, ed., Religious Life at the Crossroads (New York: Paulist, 1985). Mary Jo Leddy, Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third Publications, 1990). John Lozano, Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of Religious Life (Chicago: CCRS, 1983). ¯ Life as Parable: Reinterpreting the Religious Life (New York: Paulist, 1986)¯ Johannes Baptist Metz, Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist, 1978). Diarmuid O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1991). Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins: Re-imagining Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist, 1986). Jean Marie Tillard, A Gospel Path: Religious Life (Brussels: Lumen Vitae, 1975)¯ The Way Supplement 65 (summer 1989): "Religious Life in Transition," pp. 1-152. Patricia Wittberg, Creating a Future for Religious Life: A Sociological Perspective (New York: Paulist, 1991). Evelyn Woodward, Poets, Prophets and Pragmatists: A New Challenge To Religious Life (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987). 4 Works include: Mary Ann Donovan, Sisterhood as Power: The Past and Passion of, Ecclesial Women (New York: Crossroad, 1989). Nadine Foley, ed., Claiming Our Truth: Reflections on Identity by United States Women Religious (Washington, D.C.: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1988). January-February 1994 25 Johnson * Between the Times Marie Augusta Neal, Catholic Sisters in Transition: Front the 1960s to the 1980s (Wilmington, Delaware: Glazier, 1984). --. From Nuns to Sisters: An Expanding Vocation (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third Publications, 1990). Lora Ann Quifionez and Mary Daniel Turner, The Transformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). Ann Patrick Ware, ed., Midwives of the Futttre (Kansas City, Missouri: Leaven Press, 1985). s "Hope-Filled Deeds and Critical Thought: The Experience of American Male Religious and Their Need to Reflect on It," paper pre-pared for the Third Inter-American Conference on Religious Life and printed in David A. Fleming, ed., Religious Life at the Crossroads, pp. 20- 50; John W. O'Malley, "Priesthood, Ministry, and Religious Life: Historical and Historiographical Considerations," Theological Studies 49 (1988): 223-257. The dearth of works in this category is due, I think, to the fact that for most men authors until recently, male experience, given its normative status in church and society, is simply presumed. Thus gendered experience has not become a major category of interpre-tation as it has among women. 6 L. Cada et al., Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life, is the ground-breaking study that brought the notion of cycles to present-day awareness. See the excellent fine-tuning of this thesis b~; Philip Sheldrake, "Revising Historical Perspectives," The \¥ay Supplement 65 (summer 1989): pp. 66- 77. 7 Here I have found the following particularly helpful: Howard Gray, "Shapes for the Fut.ure," pp. 289-295, and Helen Flaherty, "Religious Life in the U.S.--A Guess at the Future," pp. 296-309, in R. Daly, Religious Life in the U.S.; Anne Clifford, "Women Missioned in a Technological Culture," pp. 37-55, in N. Foley, ed., Claiming Our Truth; the address by Robert Schreiter, "The Environment of Religious Life in 2010," to CMSM/LCWR Assembly in Louisville, Kentucky, August 1989; and the videotape "Religious Life: The Constant Is Change," IHM Sisters, Monroe, Michigan, which is an analysis of societal trends by Amata Miller, Margaret Brennan, and Sandra Schneiders. 8 See Anne Carr, Transfo~wting Grace: Christian Tradition and I, Vomen's Experience (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988). 9 Joint Meeting of the CMSM and the Lcv~rR, Louisville, Kentucky, August 1989. ,0 Karl Rahner, "The Spirituality of the Church of the Future," Theological Investigations, vol. 20, Concern for the Church (New York: Crossroad, 1981), p. 145. ~ One of the best contemporary treatises on contemplation remains William Johnston, The Inner Eye of Love (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1978); and on prophecy, Walter Bruggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978). 26 Revieva for Religious 12 E. Schillebeeckx, Christ: The Experience of Jesus as Lord (New York: Seabury, 1980), p. 821. ,3 D. O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision, passim. ,4 "Pilgrims and Prophets," paper drawn up by the Religious Life and Ministry Committee of the CMSM for the Fourth Inter-American Conference on Religious Life and printed in D. A. Fleming, ed., Religious Life at the Crossroads, pp. 51-64; quotation at p. 57. is S. Schneiders, New Wineskins, p. 32. 16 j. Lozano, Life as Parable, p. 9. 17 See Gordon Kaufman, The Theological Imagination: Constructing the Concept of God (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1981), pp. 187-189. Kaufmann argues here for the importance of the great symbol of Jesus Christ who, as the image of the invisible God, manifests a God who does not act in a violent way but rather creates a community of love and equality in a peaceable and free way. !8 Martin Luther, "Large Catechism," The Book of Concord (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1959), p. 365. 19 Franz Kafka, "My Destination," Parables and Paradoxes (Berlin: Schocken, 1975), p. 189. I am indebted for this reference to Catherine Keller, "Toward a Postpatriarchal Postmodernity," in David Griffin, ed., Spirituality and Society: Postmodern Visions (Albany: State University of New York, 1988), p. 65. 20 S. Toulmin, The Return to Cosmology: Postmodern Science and the Theology of Nature (Berkeley: University of California, 1982), p. 254. For further descriptions of postmodernity, see Frederic Burnham, ed., Postmodern Theology: Christian Faith in a Pluralist World (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1989); and Paul Lakeland, Theology and Critical Theory (Nashville: Abingdon, 1990), chap. 7, "Catholicism and Postmodernity." 21 The essays in the Griffin collection are enlightening, especially his own "Introduction: Postmodern Spirituality and Society," pp. I-31. 22 H. P. Owen, Concepts of Dei~y (New York: Herder and Herder, 1971), p. 1. 23 Sallie McFague, Models of God: Theology for an Ecological, Nuclear Age (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987), pp. 63-69. 24 Janet Ruffing, "Seeing in the Dark: The Present Moment in Religious Life," address to regional meeting of LCWR, Sparkill, New York, September 1991, p. 10. This address, somewhat edited, appears in Review for Religious 51, no. 2 (March-April 1992): 236-248. 2s M. Buber, The Eclipse of God (New York: Harper and Row, 1952); K. Rahner, see note 10; C. Fitzgerald, "Impasse and Dark Night," in Tilden Edwards, ed., Living with Apocalypse: Spiritual Resources for Social Compassion (New York: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 93-116; S. Schneiders, see video-tape, note 7; M. Marry, A Cry of Absence: Reflections for the Winter of the Heart (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1983); Michael Bucldey, "Atheism and Contemplation," Theological Studies 40 (1979): 680-699. January-February 1994 27 Johnson ¯ Between the Times 26 William J. Hill, Knowing the Unknown God (New York: Philosophical Library, 1971), and In Search of the Absent God, Mary Catherine Hilkert, ed. (New York: Crossroad, 1992). 27 Quoted in Mary Catherine Hilkert, "The Experience of Impasse and the Roots of Wisdom," address to Dominican Leadership Conference, October 1991, p. 11. 28 D. Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison (New York: Macmillan, 1953), letter of 16 July 1944, p. 220. 29 Ibid, p. 219. 30 C. Fitzgerald, "Impasse and Dark Night," p. 112. 31 For a profound analysis see Peter Hodgson, God in History: Shapes of Freedom (Abingdon: Nashville, 1989); and Wendy Farley, Tragic Vision and Divine Compassion: A Contemporary Theodicy (Louisville: Westminster, 1990). 32 "Reflections upon the Religious Life of U.S. Women Religious," paper prepared for the Fifth Inter-American Conference on Religious Life, 1985, and printed in N. Foley, ed., Claiming Our Tmtth," pp. 173-181; quotation at p. 177. Cana, Meaning Uncertain Wine flowed until there was no more at a wedding in Galilee; Mary, seeing this, turned to her son, one till then like any other, a brother, a carpenter who measured what he said and did. "They have no more wine," she said. He hesitated, questioned her, stirred up feelings between them. In the end Jesus acquiesced, six stone jars, water into wine, a fine line crossed, spirit revealed. Yet the uncertainty remains, was it not a mother's prompting that disrupted heaven's intent or is love so strong even God can be swayed by its openness? Neil C. Fitzgerald 28 Review for Religious JAN P. SCHOTTE The Consecrated Life in Church and World: Toward the Synod On 30 December 1991 the Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, called for the gathering in autumn 1994 of the Ninth Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops to treat the topic: "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." But what exactly is a synod of bishops? What are the various theological elements connected with this institu-tion? What are its pastoral aspects? Practically speaking, how does the synodal process work? And in what way does the treatment of specific topics bring benefit to the whole church? toward the synod A Synod of Bishops Etymologically speaking, the term "synod," derived from the elision of two Greek words, syn meaning "together" and hodos meaning "road" or "way," literally means "together on the way" or "sharing a journey." This idea immediately calls to mind the Vatican II image of the church as the people of God "on the move," always on pilgrimage, led and guided by the Holy Spirit through history to its ultimate fulfillment when the Lord shall Jan P. Schotte CICM serves as the general secretary of the Synod of Bishops. This presentation of his to the May 1993 Meeting of the International Union of Superiors General in Rome was orig-inally published in the UISG Bulletin, no. 92, 1993, pp. 68-78. Bishop Schotte may be addressed at Office of the General Secretary; Piazza Pio XII, 3; 00193 Rome; Italy. January-February 1994 29 Scbotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church come again (see Lumen gentium, §6). The term also calls to mind some biblical associations. For example, in John's Gospel Jesus calls himself the "Way" (see Jn 14:6), and St. Paul makes reference to Christianity as the "Way" (see Ac 22:4). The term's rich theological and biblical associations can be saidto culminate in the concept of the church as communion. As quoted in Cbristifideles laici, "communion speaks of a double, life-giving participation: the incorporation of Christians into the life of Christ, and the communication of that life of charity to the entire body of the faithful, in this world and in the next, union with Christ and in Christ, and union among Christians in the church." Therefore, "communion" should not be looked upon as something static, but an active and dynamic reality which is both a hallmark of the church and the divine force continually enliven-ing her. This mystery of the church's communion is reflected in an unlimited number of ways in the church's life, from its most sub-lime aspect in the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, to the var-ious encounters both personal and communal experienced by Christians everywhere. One instrument for celebrating the communal nature of the church on the local level is through archdiocesan and diocesan synods, which are becoming more frequent an occurrence. In convoking such a synod, a local bishop gathers around himself, as the source and foundation of communion or unity in his partic-ular church, various representatives of the church community-- lay, clerical, and religious--to pray and reflect in common and, using the eternal truths of the faith as set forth in the teachings of the church, to seek pastoral approaches and solutions to living the Christian life as a community and as individuals. The church's communal nature on the particular and univer-sal level also exists in the authority over the church which was established by Christ and subordinated to the task of preaching the gospel (see LG, §20 and §21). Therefore, where the synod of bishops uses the same word as that applied to celebrating the communal nature of the particular church, there is a basic theo-logical difference. The synod of bishops celebrates the mystery of church communion on the hierarchical level, that is, among the bishops. The Second Vatican Council describes this unity in the fol-lowing manner: "Just as, in accordance with the Lord's decree, 30 Review for Religious St. Peter and the rest of the apostles constitute a unique apos-tolic college, so in like fashion the Roman pontiff, Peter's suc-cessor, and the bishops, the successors of the apostles, are related with and united to one another'~ (LG, §22). This fundamental unity of the episcopate is the basis for the teaching on the collegiality of bishops (see LG, §22 and §23), which is like-wise an essential element in understanding the synod of bishops. The highest and fullest expression of this mystery of hierarchical communion is manifested and celebrated in an ecumenical council where the whole .episcopal college is convoked by the Holy Father. On various occasions the doc-uments of the Second Vatican Council refer to the episcopal gathering as a "synod" (see LG, §54; Christus Dominus, §36; etc.). But in this sense the word has the same meaning and theological significance as "council." Where the "synod of bishops" might resemble a "minicoun-cil," there is a fundamental qualitative difference between the two. For example, a synod convenes only a representative por-tion of the world episcopate, and unlike an ecumenical council, the synod of bishops is convened by the Holy Father for consulta-tive and not deliberative purposes. Nevertheless, despite the dif-ferences, "the synod of bishops," according to the Holy Father, "expresses collegiality in a highly ifitense way." The institution of the synod over twen.ty-seven years ago was inspired by the collaboration among the bishops at the Second Vatican Council and its beneficial effects for the whole church. Pope Paul VI on 15 September 1965 in the motu proprio Apostolica sollicitudo, establishing the synod of bishops, used these words: "With the aim of providing for a continuance after the council of the great abundance of benefits that we have been so happy to see flow to the Christian people during the time of the council as a result of our close collaboration with the bishops [and] because The institution of the synod over twenty-seven years ago was inspired by the collaboration among the bishops at the Second Vatican Council and its beneficial effects for the whole church. January-February 1994 31 Schotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church of our esteem and regard for all the Catholic bishops and with the aim of providing them with abundant means for greater and more effective participation in our concern for the universal church, on our own initiative and by our apostolic authority we hereby erect and establish here in Rome a permanent council of bishops for the universal church, to be directly and immediately subject to our power." Much more than a structure inspired by the Second Vatican Council, the synod of bishops has proven itself to be an apt instru-ment for the implementation of conciliar doctrine and the appli-cation of its pastoral directives. At the same time it has also been the forum for the interpretation and further development of the teachings and spirit of the council. An Instrument of Continuous Pastoral Renewal Though each session is called to respond to unique pastoral situations, no synod is ever an isolated event, but has a relation to other synodal gatherings. Because each synod calls together a representative portion of the episcopate with its head the pope, each synod has a relation to the whole church. At the same time, because the synod is a unique response of the episcopal college to the mandate or mission entrusted to it by the Savior, each synod has a relation to the fundamental salvific mission of the church through history as well. A brief look at the various synods which have taken place to date is evidence enough of the importance of these episcopal gatherings for the church and their value in bring-ing about the reforms intended by the council. Pope Paul VI stated the goals for the First Ordinary General Assembly, held in the fall of 1967: "the preservation and the strengthening of the Catholic faith, its integrity, its force, its development, its doctrinal and historical coherence." One result of this meeting was the eventual establishment of the International Commission of Theologians to assist the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and to broaden a discussion on approaches to theological research. The same assembly provided the stimu-lus for the 1983 publication of the revised Code of Canon Law and also made recommendations to the Holy Father on various pastoral questions. Two years later, in 1969, the First Extraordinary General Assembly was convoked to seek and examine ways and means of 32 Review for Religious putting into practice the collegiality of bishops with the pope. This meeting opened the door to greater collegiality in the pas-toral care of the universal church and in episcopal conferences and the relations between individual bishops. In 1971 the Second Ordinary General Assembly treated two subjects: "The Ministerial Priesthood" and "Justice in the World." In the former, treatment was centered on the theological nature of the priesthood with the intention of addressing certain diffi-culties experienced by priests in the course of their ministry. On the subject of justice, the bishops stated the need to relate the gospel to existing worldwide and local circumstances. "Evangelization in the Modern World" occupied the work of the Third Ordinary General Assembly held in 1974. At this assem-bly the bishops reemphasized the essential missionary character of the church and the duty of each member to bear wimess to Christ in the world. The bishops' recommendations and proposals sub-mitted to the pope were used in the formulation of the apostolic exhortation Evangelii nuntiandi. At the Fourth Ordinary General Assembly, which took place three years later, in 1977, the discussion of the bishops centered on "Catechesis in Our Times," with special attention given to the teaching of the faith to children and young people. Shortly after the synod, Pope John Paul II issued the apostolic exhortation Catecbesi tradendae, which utilized a great many of the bishops' insights and proposals. The First Special Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, popularly known as "The Dutch Synod," was convoked in 1980 to examine more thoroughly the teachings of the Second Vatican Council on the mystery of church communion and its practical implications on the universal and local level, and the figure of the bishop and his ministry. In this way the synod sought at that time to address its designated topic, "The Pastoral Situation in Holland." The Fifth Ordinary General Assembly in 1980 reaffirmed the church's teaching on the family, in particular defending marriage and the contents of Humanae vitae. From the discussion and the proposals of the assembly, the pope issued the apostolic exhorta-tion Familiaris consortio. In 1983 the Sixth Ordinary General Assembly, held during a specially called Holy Year commemorating the 1950th year of Redemption, appropriately discussed the need of applying the fruits of Christ's passion, death, and resurrection to the individ- January-February 1994 33 Schotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church These different synodal gatherings which have taken place in the course of the synod's history appear more and more clearly as a continuous process of pastoral renewal. ual and society. The bishops' work during the synod served as the basis for the apostolic exhortation Reconciliatio et paenitentia, which for the first time was designated a "postsynodal" docu-ment. The Second Extraordinary General Assembly in 1985 com-memorated the "Twentieth Anniversary of the Conclusion of the Second Vatican Council" and assessed the state of church renewal according to conciliar teachings. The recently published Catechism of the Catholic Church was the result of a proposal by the bishops at this episcopal assembly. "The Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and in the World" was the topic chosen for the Seventh Ordinary General Assembly in 1987. Through a con-sideration of vocation and mission in the context of church commu-nion, the bishops sought to empha-size the distinctive nature of the lay faithful in the church's life and her work of evangelization in the world. The fifty-four proposals of this assembly were used in the formulation of the postsynodal apostolic exhortation Christifideles laici. In 1990 the Eighth Ordinary General Assembly again took up the subject of priesthood. However, where in 1971 the bishops focused on the theological nature of priesthood and its implica-tions, this assembly's attention was more pastoral in tone, cen-tering. upon priestly formation and the "person" of the priest himself-both religious and diocesan--before and after ordination. The forty-one proposals from this assembly were used by the Holy Father in the formulation of the postsynodal apostolic exhor-tation, Pastores dabo vobis. The Special Assembly for Europe was called in the follow-ing year, 1991, to help discern the kairos of the situation on the European continent created by the historic fall of communism and to consider the role of the church in the various programs of renewal and construction. 34 Review for Religious In preparation are two other special assemblies. In his recent apostolic visitation to Africa last February, the Holy Father announced, in conjunction with the release of the assembly's Instrumenturn laboris, that this special assembly will take place in Rome in 1994, just after Easter. In March the Lineamenta of the special assembly for Lebanon was published, initiating the con-sultation phase of the preparation for that synod. These different synodal gatherings which have taken place in the course of the synod's history appear more and more clearly as a continuous process of pastoral renewal, giving opportunity through prayer and reflection to deepen a sense of the church's mission and to stimulate all the people of God to participate in this mission, each according to his or her state. Perhaps our under-standing of the synod of bishops can be further enhanced by fol-lowing the synod process which has taken place thus far in the preparation for the 1994 synod on "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." The 1994 Synodal Process The principles governing the synod of bishops and the synodal process are set forth in three basic documents: the motu proprio Apostolica sollicitudo of Pope Paul VI establishing the synod; Ordo synodi episcoporum celebrandae, or the Constitutions of the Synod of Bishops; and the Code of Canon Law, canons 342 to 348 inclusive. For the purpose of our presentation I will limit myself to those aspects of the process which immediately affect the synod topic, its documentation, and the various preparatory phases leading to the synodal gathering. Before the conclusion of the Eighth Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, the synod fathers were asked to elect from their number, according to synod regulations, the required fifteen-member council to assist the general secretary in the follow-up work of the assembly and to work on the prepa-ration of the Ninth Ordinary General Assembly. At the same time the synod fathers were invited to make suggestions on a topic to be treated at the next general assembly. There is a certain value to this initial exchange on the topic during the general assembly because the responses are spontaneous and unprepared. In making their suggestions the bishops were asked to keep in mind the following general criteria in selecting a synodal topic: (1) January-February 1994 35 Sctsotte ¯ Tlse Consecrated Life in rise Church that the topic have a universal character, that is, a reference and application to the whole church; (2) that the topic have a con-temporary character and a certain urgency, that is, have the capa-bility of exciting new energies and movement in the church towards growth; (3) that the topic have a pastoral focus and appli-cation as well as a firm doctrinal basis; and (4) that treatment of the topic be feasible, in other words, that it have the potential actually to be accomplished. In retrospect it is interesting to note that even in the initial consultation during the synod itself a con-vergence of ideas was evident regarding the treatment of some aspect of the consecrated life. Shortly after the conclusion of the general assembly, the gen-eral secretariat continued the consultation process by preparing a letter with the above criteria and sending it to the patriarchates, bishops' conferences, heads of offices of the Roman Curia, and the Union of Superiors General--the normal participants in the synod process. This communication requested the submission of three topics in order of preference. The suggestions coming from this consultation were then analyzed and discussed by the members of council of the general secretariat at one of its regularly sched-uled meetings, and a series of formulations of the theme in order of preference was submitted to the Holy Father. Until now the Holy Father has always selected the council's first choice, con-vinced that the consultation process provides a true indication of the desire of the universal church to treat a given subject. Such was the case for the topic of the 1994 synod. The general consultation process revealed a remarkable con-vergence of ideas indicating a preference for the topic of the con-secrated life. Initially some persons made a rather shallow interpretation to explain the choice, insisting that since the laity and the priesthood were treated in the two previous synodal assemblies, it was only logical that the consecrated life should receive attention. The truth of the matter is that in the course of the consultation a great number of reasons were given for calling a synod to treat the topic of the consecrated life. Many argued in the following manner. 1) With the importance of the consecrated life in the church today, there is necessity to reaffirm its true nature in various new social contexts and in the world at large. 2) The flourishing of vocations in some parts of the world 36 Review for Religious and the crisis of vocations in others requires a thorough exami-nation of the consecrated life. 3) After the Second Vatican Council, various efforts have been made to rewrite constitutions, to propose anew the charism of the founder, and so forth, and consecrated life in general has been subject to an overall renewal. Therefore, the time seems right to engage in an evaluative process. 4) The question of the relationship of those in consecrated life to bishops deserves renewed consideration as well as the sub-ject of the greater participation of women and men religious in the overall pastoral plan of a diocese, particularly in light of the unique charism proper to each. Where the document Mutuae relationes has been fruitful and productive on the whole, certain episcopal con-ferences have given indications that there remain some areas still needing attention. 5) The new forms of consecrated life appearing in many parts of the church require evaluation and proper guidance. The nature of religious institutes, secular institutes, and the societies of apos-tolic life needs to be clarified and their role in the church more clearly defined. Many of the new forms of unions and confrater-nities are appearing with the false notion that they are part of the consecrated life according to the evangelical counsels. 6) Some developments and interpretations have caused the common life for religious to be questioned. In some countries there are situations which deserve attention. 7) The prophetic character of consecrated life in certain cir-cumstances needs to be more clearly defined. How is a person in the consecrated life to respond in faithfulness to his or her voca-tion in the face of secularization, the crisis in culture, and the decline in moral values? 8) In some countries religious congregations have abandoned the work proper to them in favor of individual attempts at apos-tolic work. Such a situation raises the concern of religious con-gregations as well as bishops, requiring them to seek the proper pastoral approach to such situations. The above sampling of reasons underlying the choice of topic for the 1994 synod sufficiently indicates its universal appeal, pas-toral relevance, timely character, and feasibility. At the same time, it can be seen that they have a general inter-est for the entire church. In virtue of the church's unity, every part and every member will be affected by the exchange and out- January-Fetrruary 1994 37 Schotte * The Consecrated Life in the Church come. In this sense the synod will not simply treat a topic, but make suggestions to the Holy Father regarding the future. What does the consecrated life have in store for the future? How are those in consecrated life to live out their consecration in the apos-tolic mission of the church? What courageous and bold steps are required to meet the unique challenges made on consecrated life by the present state of affairs in the church and society? Before these questions can be faced by the bishops in syn-odal assembly, the church at large will have time to reflect on them and other aspects of the topic and be invited to make their observations known through the proper channels so that those required to make official responses on the topic to the general secretariat will have current information with which to work. The 1994 Lineamenta The synod process can be divided into four great moments: the Lineamenta, the Instrumentum laboris, the synodal assembly, and the postsynodal document. We logically pause to devote some time to explaining the Lineamenta document, the present stage of preparation for the Ninth Ordinary General Assembly. After the Holy Father's choice of topic, the council of the general secretariat at a regularly scheduled meeting held a roundtable discussion with the secretary of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life and with representatives from the various groups associated with con-secrated life, that is, women and men religious, members of sec-ular institutes, and members of the international organizations of consecrated life in the church, namely, the Union of Superiors General for Men and the International Union of Women Superiors as well as the International Congress of Secular Institutes. The observations resulting from this meeting were fur-ther discussed and developed in subsequent council meetings, and with the help of theologians an outline and texts of the Lineamenta were drafted and studied, before a definitive text was submitted to the Holy Father. As its Latin name suggests, the Lineamenta is an "outline" or general presentation of the synod topic followed by a series of questions intended to direct the prayer and reflection of the whole church on the subject. The information resulting from this stage will provide the raw material for the synod's Instrumentum laboris 3 8 Review for Religious or "working document," intended to present a composite picture of the present situation and prevailing attitudes in the church on consecrated life and its role in the church and in the world. The Lineamenta document is divided into three major parts, each treating a specific aspect of the topic: (1) "The Nature and Identity of the Consecrated Life"; (2) "The Consecrated Life in the church and in the World of Today"; and (3) "The Role of Consecrated Life." The document's initial pages immediately address the prob-lem of terminology. Strictly speaking, the term "consecrated life" in Canon Law refers to religious con-gregations and secular institutes only. What, then, is to be done with soci-eties of apostolic life? Since canon 731, § 1, states that the societies of apostolic life are "comparable to the institutes of consecrated life," it was agreed that the synod topic would also include their treatment. Therefore, when the term is used in the Lineamenta, it is meant to be all-inclusive. After a brief introduction, Part I begins with an explanation of the essential characteristics of the conse-crated life, namely, vocation, conse-cration, mission, the evangelical counsels, the common life, eschato-logical witness, its essential values, and the commitment to the spiritual life. The section then proceeds to speak of the charismatic nature of the consecrated life, as wit-nessed in its variety of charisms and multiplicity of forms. In this regard attention is given to the charism of the founder or foundress, the various forms of consecrated life, institutes of con-templative life, brothers, secular institutes, societies of a.postolic life, and the new forms of consecrated life emerging today. The second part of the document describes the present situ-ation of the consecrated life in the church and in today's world, seeking on this basis to suggest various subtopics which merit consideration, for example, the direction to be taken by the con-secrated life with the approach of the third millennium, the fruits of renewal, new values and aspects of the consecrated life, nega- The synod process can be divided into four great moments: the Lineamenta, the Instrumentum laboris, the synodal assembly, and the postsynodal document. Jam~ary-February 1994 39 Schotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church tive aspects (even these must be addressed), the necessity of a clear witness in responding to the challenges of modern society, and finally the situation in various countries and cultures (Africa and Asia come especially to mind). This section ends with a call to those in consecrated life to continue the renewal begun after the Second Vatican Council. The third section speaks in practical terms of the role of the consecrated life in the church and society, beginning with a pre-sentation on the ecclesial dimensions of the consecrated life, its relation to the church hierarchy, its coordinating structures in fostering communion, its place on the level of the local church, and its communion with the lay faithful. With this in mind, var-ious topics related to the role of the consecrated life within the universal church community are treated, including the new evan-gelization, authentic apostolic creativity, acceptance of the call to evangelization, remaking the fabric of society, promoting the unity of all the baptized, and the dialogue with followers of other religions. The concluding portion of Part III turns its attention to the church's mission in the world, emphasizing features associ-ated with the consecrated life, for example, its specific witness to God's love through the works of mercy; its attention to young people and their needs; its presence in schools, hospitals, and social programs; its dedication to work on behalf of the poor; its role--past and present--in the transmission and formation of cul-ture; and its part in the church's work of safeguarding the values of nature and conscience in today's world. The closing pages of the Lineamenta then offe~ a brief look at Mary as the model and mother of the consecrated life and a reflec-tion on the consecrated life in terms of a renewed presence of Christ in the world of today. The presentation concludes with a section containing the document's endnotes, followed by a table of contents. Incorporated in the Lineamenta text and appearing at the con-clusion of each section is a series of twenty-five consecutively numbered questions which are meant to focus the prayer and dis-cussion of the universal church on various aspects of the synod topic. At the same time, these questions and numbers are to pro-vide an orderly structure for the responses from various individ-uals and church bodies which will be formulated and submitted in the lively exchange on all levels of the church community dur-ing the consultation period. 40 Review for Religious Official responses are expected to be filed with the general secretariat by those normally involved in the consultation pro-cess, that is, patriarchates, episcopal conferences, offices of the Roman Curia, and the Union of Superiors General for Men. Given the synod topic, the International Union of Women Superiors and the International Congress for Secular Institutes are also to submit responses. All responsible for such responses are to work on the best possible manner of facilitating the reading of the document by individuals and groups associated with them, and of seeking information from them so that the responses may be truly complete and reflect the richness of the exchange on the various levels of the local church community. With the publication of the Lineamenta on 20 November 1992, a significant and important stage in the preparation for this synodal assembly was initiated. I would even go so far as to say a most critical phase, because the richness and depth of the Instrumentum laboris, the reference point and source of discus-sion during the actual synodal assembly, depends on the widespread participation of the whole church and a thorough-ness in answering the series of questions posed in the Lineamenta. For this reason, it is incumbent upon each individual in the church, no matter what his or her state or circumstance, to con-tribute through the accustomed channels in this presynodal prepa-ration period, thereby providing the necessary information which will be eventually used in the official responses to be sent to the general secretariat. From my experience over the years I am becoming more aware and convinced of the very real contribution and impact of synodal assemblies in the life of the church. These beneficial results come about not simply from a month-long meeting, but from the whole synodal process, from the consultation regard-ing the theme, the prayer and reflection period, the actual cele-bration of the synod, and its follow-up. Not only do the reflection and prayer which are a part of the Lineamenta phase assist in setting the agenda in the Instrumentum laboris or "working paper," but the process itself taps and exer-cises the dynamism of church communion in the listening, shar-ing, and stirring up of new energies on various levels of the church community. And after the synodal assembly, where there is a con-centrated effort at intensely living the communion which has come beforehand, the effects make themselves felt years later. January-February 1994 41 Scbotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church The Lineamenta itself makes reference to this fact when it states that the occasion of this synod will provide the opportunity for "all members of the church, particularly the institutes of con-secrated life, to reconsider the subject of their own renewal in light of the challenges and the opportunities of the present moment," based on the church's appeal in these days "for a renewed endeavor towards evangelical life, towards a profound spirituality, and towards a generous presence in the new evange-lization" (§33). This time of synodal preparation, then, is an occa-sion for hope, a hope that this profound examination of the status of renewal and the prospects for future growth of the consecrated life in all its aspects will be a moment of grace and revitalization, and bring great benefits to all those in consecrated life and to the church as a whole. Message from a Coreopsis Lanceolata (Daisies Do Tell) Some of us are past our prime, And one of us has lost a few petals; Another--will never see the sun. Yet we all rejoice That we reflect our Maker And celebrate a loving God Who signs each one of us With his own life's Blood. Joann Stuever, ASC postulant 42 Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Charism, Charisms, and Faddism d sexagenarian religious superior who keeps abreast of the times asked me if I had read the recent document on reli-gious life produced by the council of the General Secretariat of the Synod of Bishops. I said yes, adding hesitantly: "But it is not very interesting." Without hesitation she agreed completely. The Point of Departure: The Lineamenta Surely the Lineamenta, the preliminary agenda on "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World" prepared in view of the forthcoming Ninth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, is not a particularly charismatic piece of writing. After all, it is not from the pen of a theologian like Rahner, or a biblicist like Elsa Tamez, or a feminist like Ruether, or a third-world figure like Amalorpavadass, or a cardinal like Martini. On the contrary, it is an official document with its strengths and weaknesses, treating the topic "in a complete organic manner, indicating the topic's precise content and its necessary limits''1 and touching upon "only the essential points of doctrine" (§4).2 As such, therefore, it would read somewhat like a protocol without the charismatic cadence or resonance of your fa~,orite author. However, considering that the document is the product of the pastoral office of the church, we would not be wrong if we rec-ognized in it the charismatic teaching included by Paul in his lists A. Paul Dominic SJ can be addressed at Satyodayam; S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. .~anuary-Felrruary 1994 43 Dominic * Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism of charisms. And so what it says about religious life as a charism that includes many a charism can serve for our mental nourish-ment and impart to us a spiritual gift (Rm 1:11). It can set us thinking about religious life as a matter of charismatic experi-ence, that is, an experience of living a fundamental charism through as many different charisms as there are societies of"con-secrated" or "apostolic" life. Any serious reflection on this mat-ter will prove to be relevant, for the prevailing confusion in religious life concerns partly the lack of clarity about charism and charisms.3 Religious Life as Charism Religious life, like all life, is best observed in its relationships. On the one hand, it is a part of the church; and, on the other, it is itself the church and so serving, like the church, the rest of the world (§3, §25, and §44). In the first perspective, religious life is one of the many charisms of the church; in the second, it is, as we said earlier, a fundamental charism giving rise to a wide variety of expressions of itself. The religious state of life is a "particular gift in the life of the church" (Lumen gentium, §43). As such it can be properly appre-ciated only when we see it in place, beside many other similar gifts enjoyed by the church. That is why the Lineamenta begins the consideration of charisms (§14-§17) recalling the mystery of the church as the Mystical Body of Christ endowed with many gifts, quoting Paul: "There are many different gifts, but it is always the same Spirit; there are many different ways of serving, but it is always the same Lord. There are many different forms of activ-ity, but in everybody it is the same God who is at work in all" (1 Co 12:4-6). By the parallelism of the verses, the different ways of service or activity are all to be understood as gifts in a variety of forms. Paul goes on to list such gifts in the immediate context (i Co 12:8-10, 28) and also in other letters (Rm 12:6-8 and Ep 4:11). A look at all the lists can give us an idea of the wide range of gifts enjoyed by the growing church. Though it would be anachronistic to look for the mention of religious life among the listed gifts of the Spirit bestowed on the church, note that celibacy is proposed as a special gift (1 Co 7:7). In the course of time the church came to recognize many more gifts in its ongoing life, gifts like asceticism, monasticism, vir- 44 Review for Religious ginity, choice of poverty, and social virtues, to speak only of those that have an obvious reference to religious life.4 As the church grew in self-awareness, it came to discover many elements that we now associate with religious life as its specific gifts; and so today we can speak about "the charism of the consecrated life" (§14), that is to say, the consecrated life itself viewed as a gift or charism. However various and heterogeneous the different charisms may be in the manner of their working, they are one and homo-geneous in intent and purpose. They are all meant to build up the Body of Christ. The Body of Christ is built up when the mem-bers are well nourished and so live to the full, reaching unity in faith and knowledge of the Son of God and forming the perfect Person fully mature with the fullness of Christ himself (Ep 4:13). This fullness of Christ is the same as the life permeated by the Spirit ever filling us or even overwhelming us with all her gifts and charisms. Such a life energized by the working of the Spirit is spiritual and holy. M1 the charisms of the Spirit nourish the life of the church, making it ever more holy with the life of Christ himself. Situating religious life thus in the sphere of the church's life of holiness and recognizing in it a universal reality in the church's makeup, the Lineamenta concludes: "With this in mind one speaks of 'the charism of the consecrated life'" (§14). Here is surely an echo of the approach to religious life taken by Lumen gentium, §39-§47. Such an affirmation of religious life, however, is slightly marred by the way the Lineamenta, following of course Vatican expresses it. After describing the way of holiness of religious life marked by vows that establish a special bond to God, Lumen gen-tium concludes: "Thus, although the religious state., does not belong" to the hierarchical structure of the church, nevertheless it belongs inseparably to her life and holiness" (see L §1; see also §14 and §36). One can discover a patronizing voice here, rightly or wrongly. Anyway, what a difference it would make if the state-ment were to read towards the end: "nevertheless, like the hier-archy, the religious state too belongs inseparably to her life and holiness." Does not Vatican II after all state in the chapter on universal holiness, "In the various types and duties of life, one and the same holiness is cultivated by all who are moved by the Spirit of God" (LG §41), and further go on to describe the way of holiness of the different classes of persons and finally end with a clear reference to the life of the religious (LG §41 and §42)? January-February 1994 45 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism There is a good reason why we can parallel religious life and hierarchy in this way. Of all the charisms enumerated by Paul-- who, incidentally, developed the terminology of charisms--the pastoral office of the hierarchy is the only one that concerns a state of life. This idea gets all the greater force because the pas-toral letters signal a development in the idea of charism which continued to prevail in postapostolic times. Paul's reminder to Timothy, "You have in you a spiritual gift which was given to you when the prophets spoke and the body of elders laid their hands on you" (i Tm 4:14), a reminder repeated again in 2 Timothy 1:6, certainly refers to Timothy's charism as one of grace of state or office. If we add to this way of looking at the hierarchical charism the reference to the charism of married life in 1 Corinthians 7:7, where there is a simultaneous reference to the charism of celibacy too, we can discern a line of thinking in which the various particular vocations in Christian life can be considered charisms establishing people in different states of life. So we can now speak in particular of the charism of religious life as the grace of the religious state of life; contributing to the holiness of the church in a particular way. In this context it is enlightening and inspiring to recall an old nomenclature of the religious state of life, namely, the state of perfection, proclaiming visibly the prophetic office of Christ wit-nessing to the kingdo~n here and hereafter. What is basic about states of perfection is the perfection to be acquired by way of the evangelical counsels in a community set-up. The function of any particular way of religious life, contemplative or active, lies. in this: that religious, by their very striving after holiness, call upon all Christians to do the same in their own way. So remarking, Bernard H~iring quotes papal authority in support: "The church would not fully respond to the mind of her Divine Bridegroom, men would not fix their eyes on her as on the 'the signal unto the nations'., if they did not find in her men who reflected the splendor of the gospel more through the example of their life than by means of words.''s All this is not so old-fashioned. A few years ago America carried an article describing religious as those who, unlike the laity, make religion their very career with its own particular structures that not only favor and promote it but also witness to it.6 The charism of religious is to be identified with striving for perfection, as the Lineamenta often repeats (§3, §5, §8, and §16). 46 Review for Religious To speak of the state of perfection is perhaps not a post-Vatican practice. However, in avoiding the falsity of perception possible in the expression, one need not altogether abandon its right use. Rather, we need to rediscover in the correct meaning of the phrase some essentials of religious life. Here is one: "It is not so much we who profess as others (the church, the community) who recognize that we. at least have received an explicit call and have come to a state of commitment to pursue it relentlessly, wholeheartedly; and radically.''7 But even in so reflecting on religious life as a state of perfec-tion, one should beware of a dan-ger. If one were to emphasize the personal pursuit of perfection that religious undertake, one is liable to overemphasize all their many undertakings on the path to perfection, thereby forgetting that any and every charism is a pure and simple gift of God. The story of Peter is apt here, as Bonhoeffer tells it. "Three times Peter heard himself proclaim that Christ is his Lord and God--at the beginning, at the end, and at Caesarea Philippi. Each time it is the same grace of Christ calling Peter to follow, and revealing itself to him in his confession." To reiterate the idea with Bonhoeffer: "This grace was certainly not self-bestowed. It was the grace of Christ himself.''8 Quoting all this, J.M.R. Tillard concludes; "Now, this costly grace., is for Simon Peter and for every religious the charism which makes existence as such a sign of the gospel. This charism comes from the Lord's Spirit . It is truly a gift made by the risen Lord, through his Holy Spirit, to his people. The Lord passes by. his grace seizes certain men and women. Poor sinners, they are nonetheless of those who will say to . . . the world: 'We have found what we were looking for! Come and see!' This is their charism.''9 One may, then, delve into the experience of religious life and discover in its depths not so much a for but a because of. No one enters religious life primarily for some thing or some work, but rather because of the One Who calls. "The for will come later, nec-essarily, but in the radiance and as the evangelical fruit of the No one enters religious life primarily for some thing or some work, but rather because of the One who calls. ~tanuar2/-Febrttary 1994 47 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism because of," as Tillard says.~° Can anything be clearer than this? Yet in the culture shock that religious were exposed to after Vatican Council II, not a few sought their identity in their works and tasks, in their of religious life. But the more they did so, the more elusive they found it. For their real existence as religious was concentrated in the call of Christ to which they had once com-mitted themselves because of the altogether new experience of being seized by the Lord's power. Their existence, therefore, became, or ought to have become, a new existence, a charismatic existence, a charism. Such a vision of religious life as the charism in itself appears distinctly, though in a less charismatic expression, in the Lineamenta when it speaks of the profession of the gospel as the supreme rule for all institutes, whatever their particular ministries may be (§8; see also Perfectae caritatis, §2). The Charisms of Religious Life Once religious life is understood in terms of one unique exis-tential charism underlying all forms of it, one may be able to appreciate the more familiar experience of the particular charisms that at once characterize and distinguish the various institutes. It is in this way that the Lineamenta would seem to interpret the charismatic nature of religious life as taught in the conciliar and postconciliar documents (§ 14). Logically and theologically, the consideration of the charism that constitutes religious life leads to that of the many charisms of religious life. It is the one charism of religious life that begets many a charism in it. Are not the latter "like branches sprouting out wondrously and abundantly from a tree growing in the field of the Lord"? (LG §43, quoted in L §16). Historically, however, what attracted the attention of people was the variety of charisms and not the one charism beneath and beyond all charisms. So, tracing the beginning of religious life from the very infancy of the church, Perfectae caritatis could point out: "Under the influence of the Holy Spirit, many., pursued a solitary life, or founded religious families . And so it happened by divine plan that a wonderful variety of religious communities grew up" (§ 1, partly quoted in L § 16). The mention of solitary life and religious families obviously refers to the twin charisms of original religious life, namely, 48 Review for Religious eremiticism and cenobitism (§9 and §19c). Cenobitism itself in the course of history developed two other charisms, namely, divine contemplation and human service. These in turn became spe-cialized in their ways of focusing on God and on people. In what-ever century religious live out their days, they adopt or develop distinct varieties of direct service of God and humanity, in imita-tion of Christ. Through them, therefore, Christ comes to be shown "contemplating on the mountain, announcing God's king-dom to the multitude, healing the sick and the maimed, turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father" (LG §46, quoted in L §15). Often enough, charisms are considered, or even identified with, graces meant for the common good. Such a consideration is incomplete because it misses something important, namely, the source of the power of service. Charisms are particular graces imparted to us by which we bear or image or reflect or even become Christ in ourselves in a particular limited way, and so are able to render appropriate service in a specific context in a par-ticular part of the world in the manner of Christ himself. So they highlight in us "a specific aspect of the mystery of Christ" (§ 17). However, the gospel, or for that matter Christ himself, if under-stood with proper nuance, is not apart from the church. So the Lineamenta does well in describing charisms as bearing upon a specific aspect, not only of the mystery of Christ, but also of the church's life, and thus manifesting in the makeup of the Mystical Body the multiform grace of Christ (§15). One should not miss here how charisms are at once incarnational and ecclesial (§46). Charisms and Service Once it is grasped that charisms have to do primarily with a fundamental religious way of being, one cannot go wrong in insist-ing that charisms are out-and-out oriented towards service, "des-tined for service of the kingdom" (§3); for surely charisms have an inalienable reference, not only to the way of being, but also to the way of doing. The Lineamenta spells out the nexus between charism and service forcefully thus: "Each charism . . . brings with it a particular manner of faithfully and intensely living the evangelical counsels. In addition, it implies a particular and con-crete style of spiritual life, a determined form of apostolate, a .~anuary-February 1994 49 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism specific experience of community life, and a particular involvement in the world" (816 [emphasis added]; see also $8). What, then, are the specific paths of service in the building of the earthly city (§44)? Not forgetting the contribution of the contemplatives to society through their divine service of worship (§2)--the first permanent foundation of women in the United States was Carmelites~l--the Lineamenta illustrates the service of active charisms thus: "Today the consecrated life is present in our society through the multiplicity of apostolic services rendered to others, each according to its diverse charisms, in one magnificent expression of the charity of Christ on behalf of the integral for-mation of persons; in the education of children and young people, in the care of the sick, the suffering, the elderly, and those in want; and in aid to persons with special needs and those marginal-ized by society" (§44a). What do all such services intend except "to make operative the gospel of the beatitudes and the works of mercy" (§44a)? One particular element of service rendered by charisms con-cerns life of communion within the church. Different forms of religious life characterized by their different charisms do not con-stitute exclusive churches within the church, but, forming part of the one church, ought to feel themselves to be the church and so identify themselves with her (~3 and ~35; see also Perfectae car-itatis, §2c). The charisms of the different religious families, with their charismatic and yet ecclesial-minded founders, belong as much to the whole church as to the religious themselves (~16, §26e, and §46). For not only are they meant for the growth of the chhrch, but they also have their origin, regulation, guarantee, and approval in and from the church (§6, §15, and §16). Therefore, far from being closed in upon themselves, religious offer a rich fare for communion, reflecting ideal church commu-nion (§9). There is every reason, then, to identify the religious living together by the term community. Incidentally, the hierarchy as such can only contribute, in terms of sociology, to the culture of societas with role differentiation; but the religious as such plunge themselves into the heart of society with their charisms of ser-vice (§3, ~42, and §44) and break through segmentations in soci-ety and initiate the culture of communitas in our world.~2 In bringing about this new culture of communion in the world church, the religious, as "experts in communion" (§35), have nec- 50 Review for Relig~otts essarily to act locally in the particular church, but with their hearts spanning universally in the global church (§27a). The exercise of religious charisms "assists everyone--clergy and faithful--to open themselves to the universal and missionary dimension of the church, and., makes the particular churches an image of the uni-versal church" (§39). For a con-crete example of communion resulting from the enduring charisms, the Lineamenta points out the flourishing of lay third orders, lay associations, and lay-volunteer groups "whose mem-bers are bound under different titles to the spirituality and apos-tolic work of various institutes" (}41). Where the charisms do not serve the cause of church com-munion, they are likely to become mere means of some service or religious themselves. other without the underlying spirit. The Lineamenta warns of the danger of reducing the pres-ence of institutes to parochial ser-vice "without encouraging and welcoming the richness of the spirituality and their proper charismatic service" (~40). More plainly, in the church Body each part can do only the service it is meant for. As charisms are vivifying and beautifying graces of the differ-ent members of the Body of the church (§46), they complement one another; and so they cannot healthily coexist without mutual encounter and influence. Perhaps, in the pre-Vatican "ghetto" church, religious congregations developed their own ghettos, pos-sibly without even knowing it. But the time has come, especially in the era of ecumenism, for % better understanding of the sense of communion among foundational charisms" (§27b). It is high time, therefore, for religious to realize how a particularly har-monious communion among themselves, sharing one another's charism, "can and should contribute to express better the full-ness and richness of Christ" (§46), not only in his Body the church, but also in his extended body, the world in need of union. The charisms of the different religious families, with their charismatic and yet ecclesial-minded founders, belong as much to the whole church as to the Jan~ry-Febrz~ry 1994 51 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism As charisms serve the cause of communion in the church, so do they contribute to the unity of the separate congregations them-selves. It is unthinkable that a religious family could maintain its unity of life amid all its committed involvement in the world if it failed to cling to its essential charism for nourishment (§32b). Each particular charism, bringing with it a particular manner of intense eyangelical life, makes the presence of the one Lord pres-ent in space and time (§46) and thus "enriches the legacy of life, history, and spirituality characterizing each family identity, shared in common through the spirit of the founder or foundress" (§16). Keeping Charisms Alive The dynamism of religious life in its variety depends on the vitality of its true charisms. Once charisms turn false, they lose their vitality and spell the ruin of institutes. Present-day insti-tutes can continue their existence faithfully only if they recog-nize, recover, retain, and renew their particular charisms in their past originality and present timeliness (~ 17). What, then, can we say about the renewal of charisms? "In keeping with their proper charism" (§40) and similar phrases recur in the Lineamenta, as in the Code of Canon Law, emphasizing that the charisms are to be preserved with fidelity and continued without alteration, avoiding all subtle deviation from the original spirit (§16). This supposes in religious a healthy appreciation and pride in the early traditions of their congrega-tion, as advocated by Perfectae caritatis. Given the evangelical inspiration of all charisms, one can say more, drawing a compar-ison between keeping to the purity of the gospel and maintaining the primitive charism. As Paul insisted on an anathema for those who dare preach a different gospel (Ga 1:8-9), religious founders and foundresses could do likewise, enjoining their followers to abide by the spirit of their constitutions without any dilution or dissimulation on their part.13 In this spirit, while expressing appre-ciation of the general progress in the awareness of the separate charisms in the different congregations in the postconciliar era, the Lineamenta adds affirmatively: "This consciousness ought to find expression in a spiritual commitment and a working pres-ence which effectively enlivens and makes operative for the good of the church the spirit of the founder orfoundress and the legacy of each institute" (§3 lc). 52 Review for Religious Two modern experiences with regard to charisms are note-worthy. One, the preferential choice for the poor, which has been "a constant feature of charisms in the apostolic life, often inspired by the words and actions of the Lord" (§44c; see also §27d), is becoming more and more a serious concern for religious life, leading communities to share the very life of the poor and the marginalized with all their risks, trials, and problems. Second, reminiscent of the early successes of many a congregation, there is the geographical spread of extant charisms in the younger churches of the third world and in the newly liberated Eastern European countries (§27c), giving rise to new cultural expres-sions of them (§32c). The above-mentioned experiences are two fine examples of how charisms rise to the occasion and serve their purpose today, provided they are ever deepened and constantly developed (Mutuae relationes, §1 i; L ~16) according to the signs of the times (Perfectae caritatis, §2; L §17). The sign today is the oncoming of the third millennium, throwing up opportunities and challenges (§33) and giving rise to the sprouting of new charisms and new forms of evangelical life (§24 and §27c). One aspect of this deepening and developing of surviving charisms lies in the direction of their "being called upon today-- inspired by the spirit of the founder or foundress--to serve as the basis for making new commitments and responses in Christian charity to the new and old expressions of poverty in our world" (§29g) and, more generally, to the changed atmosphere of the world "because of the social and cultural happenings which have rapidly come about in modern society" (§25). This is reminiscent of the call of Mutuae relationes to be innovative enough for bold enter-prising initiatives (§12; L §42). Which persons are inspired enough and thus inspiring enough to make new initiatives and refound their congregations, warding off the subtle temptation to be wise in their own eyes? Only fer-vent people (§29e). Only they can update discerningly for today the expressions of their original charism. But in the absence of such people "a certain leveling in behavior and in the tenor of the spiritual and communal life has brought a certain loss of prac-tical identity in charism and works" (§28b)--as surely happened in India, for instance, when some religious working with the masses wanted no public association whatever with their congre-gation. So the apparently clever and outspoken members certainly ~tammry-February 1994 53 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism need to be cautioned, against tendential postures, theoretical and practical, regarding charisms that go against their.genuineness (§3 lc). A case in point was that of a Jesuit who spoke of the need to rewrite the Ignatian rules for thinking with the church, to the applause of the gathering of course, with scant awareness of their foundation in the mystical union of the church and Christ that inspired Ignatius's Eharacteristic service of the church. While there have been new, positive, and worthy initiatives-- the switch of women religious in the United States from the ser-vice of the clergy to frontier ministries should be hailed as one such measure though grudged by not a few men even in the highly progressive United States of Americal4--there have also been negative, unworthy, and false initiatives--which brings me to the discussion of faddism. Faddism Faddism, the cultivation of fads, has to do with "a rapid, sud-den, and ephemeral collective adoption of novel behavior which affects only superficial or trivial areas of life.''s It was certainly the fad of hasty paradigm shifting when some persons clamored for implementing changes in religious life at a faster pace than peo-ple could cope with. Even when people were willing to change, it was not without the grief of losing the familiar past or the fear of the unknown future. So whoever rushed their fellow religious into the world of Vatican II without at the same time providing them time to grapple with their fear or to grieve over or even rage about their apparent loss were carried away more by an itch for change (2 Tm 4:3) than by the breath of the Spirit, for whom there are times for everything. It was also a fad whenever an opinion gained ground that this or that particular individual was the resource person for renewal. To venture an example, it would seem that a certain fad of what may be called spiritual consumerism surrounded Anthony de Mello of Sadbana fame, for numbers of people kept looking to him alone for renewal, almost as if he were the director of world-wide renewal. In any case, whenever one individual looms too large in some endeavor, the result tends to be superficial, whereas all renewal worth the name happens deep within people, where the creative Spirit works in the innermost recesses of hearts. Another similax: fad, which coflld be called hybridization, was 54 Review for Religious the adoption of a celebrated model as the sole means of renewal, whether or not it squared with the blueprint of one's own origi-nal charism. If the one-month retreat according to the Spiritual Exercises appeared to be such a fad some twenty years ago, today in certain circles external dialogue--whether with native tradi-tions or modern situations--would seem to hold sway more than inner dialogue within one's own charism. Among all those who were "zealous" about reforms in reli-gious life, precious few resorted to a real praxis. Not only did individuals and small groups indulge in the fad of stylized ideo-logical talk.~6 Even entire provinces, if not whole congregations, could be all talk, adopting popular phrases about the poor, for example, rather than making sincere options for them. How pro-ductive can all this exercise be except for inviting occasional out-right condemnation. A bold village woman responded to a group of young religious whose actions were not as forthcoming as their words, "These are not the kind of shepherds who will save the sheep; they swallow the sheep." What is absent in feverish talk, namely, action, can itself become a fad and go beyond all proportion. The slogan (not the idea itself) "formation for mission in mission" suits such a fad, giving the go-by to minimum privacy and seclusion for necessary growth in maturity and personalization. Showmanship and one-up- manship feed this fad, causing each one's action to be largely unproductive. These things are the very opposite of prophetic action. They may have the imaginativeness of the prophets of old, but not their soundness of inspiration. The craze of using anything and everythin

Issue 34.5 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Revtew ]or Rehgtous ts edited by faculty members of the School of DIvlmty of St Louts University, the edttorlal ol~ces bemg located at 612 Humboldt Buddmg, 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. S!ngle copies: $1.75. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years (for airmail delivery, add $5.00 per year). Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming .to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former ad~ciress. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Galicn, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor September 1975 Volume 34 Number 5 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; 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. / ;" ~: :°~Vith these ,words Po o ~t only for Jesmts,~but-~f6r all~rehg~ous;~ )s wh6, .in ~varyingways, ~dentff, y:.o. 671 A Survey of the Thirty-second General Congregation John R. Sheets, S.J. Fr. Sheets, chairman of the theology department of Creighton University and director of its new Masters Degree in Christian Spirituality program, was an elected delegate of his province (Wisconsin) at the 32nd General Congregation. He resides at Creighton University; 2500 Califor-nia St.; Omaha, NB 68178. The Thirty-second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus began on December 2, 1974. It finished its work on March 7, 1975. The Holy See authorized the promulgation of its decrees on May 2, 1975. In this article I will attempt to set down in an intelligible way a description of what went on during those ninety-six days, especially for (hose who are not Jesuits but who are in-terested in the congregation. Having gone over once again both the official documents and the Acta of the congregation, and having tried to recapture.my own experience over those days, I feel keenly the limitations of what follows. In the first place, it is difficult to give a survey of the vast amount of material covered by the various commissions;-secondly, it is hard to detail my own ex-perience without writing an autobiography; thirdly, it would take someone with both a sense of historical detail and a journalistic flair to present the in-terplay that took place among the various identifiable groups within the con-gregation, and also what took place between the Vatican and the congregation. In spite of these reservations, I hope that the observations that follow might provide some insight into what happened, and at the same time provide a counterweight to impressions given to the public through the general press. For me personally the congregation was the peak experience of my life. I am still trying to sort out the reasons for this. There is the obvious fact of hav-ing been part of a decision-making body whose decrees could have momentous importance for the Societ), of Jesus and for the Church at a very critical mo- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 673 ment in history. Again there was the experience of being "companions in the Lord" with two hundred and thirty-six other Jesuits from all over the world, united in the same Ignatian vision, sharing a common purpose, praying and working together to formulate with the help of the Holy Spirit responses to what the Church and the world ask of the Society today. The "honeymoon experience" of the first days gave way, as the weeks went on, to the .experience of fatigue, the perplexities of the search for the proper wording, the experience of working on disparate problems at the same time, without any clear point of convergence. Added to these was the experience of the interaction between the Vatican and the congregation which brought with it great anguish. However, it was also perhaps the experience that changed the congregation from a group of planners relying much on our own wisdom into something approximating an instrument of the Holy Spirit. The whole experience of the congregation in many ways paralleled what a person goes through in making the Spiritual Exercises, where one is subject to the movement of different spirits. On the one hand, it was the occasion of the greatest consolation; on the other, 1 have never in my life experienced such heaviness of heart. There were moments when one could almost feel the presence of the Holy Spirit, particularly at the concelebrated liturgies where one was drawn into the mystery of the communio jesuitarum, both the living and the dead, ~hrough our sharing in the Eucharist. Certainly the con-celebrated Mass, celebrated on the opening day of the congregatiofi in the Gesu, a church hallowed by the memories of Ignatius, Xavier and the early history of the Society, with seven hundred Jesuits participating, was one such moving experience. But if there were consolations, there were also periods of desolation, the worst desolation I have ever experienced. These came from the pall of uncer-tainty cast over the congregation from the communications of the Holy Father through Cardinal Villot in reference to the way the congregation had proceeded on a particular point concerning the Fourth Vow in the Society. This was also the occasion for the Holy Father to remark with pain that he detected from the Acta of the congregation attitudes among the delegates which were at variance with the kind of disposition a Jesuit should have toward the Pope. To be frank, however, it was not so much the interventions of the Holy Father that depressed me. In fact, as events would show, he was under the im-pression that we had received a specific communication on the subject that he had given to one of the delegates to be transmitted to us. But because of a mis-understanding the delegate did not in fact communicate it, and the congrega-tion learned about it only after we had taken a step which seemed to con-travene directly the explicit instruction of the Holy Father. To me the tone of his and Cardinal Villot's letter, while severe, was comprehensible in the light of this misunderstanding on the communication of their earlier message. What was far more upsetting was the sudden change in the mental climate of the congregation. Somewhere Kierkegaard mentions that the sudden is the 1574 / Review for, Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 category of the demonic. In the course of only minutes, the demon of rumor, suspicion and recrimination was let loose. Suddenly it all fitted into a kind of master plot to discredit Fr. Arrupe, bring about his resignation, and bring to nothing the efforts of the congregation. No one knew who the enemies were, but some gave the impression that there was one hiding behind every column in the Vatican. Among the memories which will always be with me are the occasions when I used to walk in St. Peter's Square at night, when it was deserted, except for a police car and a few pa~sers-by. The majestic beauty of the facade of St. Peter's, bathed by the light of the moon, the beauty of the fountains flashing in the lights, the Vatican apartments with a light here and there, formed a setting of peace which seemed to overflow into me, particularly when events occurred which plunged the congregation into gloom. Looking back over those difficult periods I am certain that if it were not for the example and leadership of Fr. Arrupe we would have lost courage. He transmitted to us both by word and example a sense of the working of God's providence and the life-through-death process in which we were engaged. We were faced with the humbling and humiliating fact that we experts who were supposed to discern the signs of the times could not discern a sign that was much closer to us. In many ways the misunderstandings did not "have to be," when one looks at them from a human point of view. The reports from the press about con-frontation, maneuver and counter-maneuver were the product of journalistic imagination. The sad fact is that pain was caused by people who were trying their utmost to act with responsibility to the Holy Father and to the Society. But I have probably got ahead of myself. All I wanted to do in these in-troductory remarks was to point out that for me personally the experience of those three months led by the diverse paths of joy and anguish to a deeper ex-perience of the ways of God, that "If Yahweh does not build the house, in vain the masons toil." The Procedure Followed in the Business of the Congregation In preparation for this congregation there had been four years of highly organized participation on the level of the local communities and the provinces. The extent of this participation varied. In general, however, it had a beneficial result in creating the awareness that this congregation would grow out of the discernment that took place on the local level rather than work from the top down. Perhaps some might consider that this was a waste of time and money when we measure the results of those years of preparation, and the little impact that it had directly on the congregation. However, the minimal result of this preparation was that at least we did not come into the work of the congregation cold, but had some awareness of the problems that confront us, as there were seen by a large segment of the Society. For those who are not familiar with the structure of the Society of Jesus, a few words of explanation may be helpful. In the Society of Jesus the supreme A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 675 authority is vested in the General Congregation. It does not meet at regular in-tervals, but only on two occasions, either to elect a new superior general, or to face a particular state of affairs which can be handled only by the highest authority of the Society. Of the thirty-two congregations that have met in the four hundred and thirty-five years of the Society's history, all except seven have been called to elect a new superior general. When, therefore, in 1970 Fr. Arrupe decided to call a General Congregation to convene after appropriate preparation, he felt that the state of the Society needed to be reviewed. It was an opportune time, since ten years would have elapsed since Vatican II and our last congregation. Delegates to a General Congregation are basically of two kinds: the provincial superiors, who attend by right of office, who make up ap-proximately one-third of the membership of a congregation and the other two-thirds who are elected. The only delegates who were unable to attend the 32nd General Congregation were a few from behind the Iron Curtain. Their unoc-cupied desks remained an ever-present symbol to the assembly of the oppres-sion of the Church in various areas. In spite of these absences, there were two hundred thirty-six delegates present. In the Society of Jesus the agenda is made up after the congregation con-venes. It is based mainly on the postulates (requests) submitted either from in-dividual Jesuits or provinces. Contrary to what one might suspect, there is probably no more democratic legislative group than is to be found in the General Congregation. Any Jesuit can send in postulates either through his province or directly, as an individual to the General Congregation. All of these are considered on their merits independently of their source. Over one thousand postulates were submitted. After a preliminary analysis, it was seen that they could be organized according to ten categories. Ten commissions were set up roughly corresponding to these ten categories. Initially the commissions had a membership of about twenty-five each, com-posed of representatives from different parts of the Society. Later, for the sake of efficiency in composing the documents emerging from the commissions, the number was reduced to four or five. The amount of work that went into the final draft of the documents was enormous. The work of the commission would be submitted to the whole assembly, receive revisions (or even be re-jected), be returned to the commission; then again be submitted to the assembly, with a repetition of the same procedm:e, until the assembly was satisfied with it. The whole assembly convened in a large hall that had been especially renovated for the congregation. Electronic equipment was installed to provide simultaneous translation. Voting was done by means of a small switch at each desk. In the front of the hall in full view of all the delegates was a large elec-tronic board, with indicator lights arranged accordihg to the seating plan in the hail. This board registered the votes with a green light if affirmative or a red, if negative. At the top of the board was a place where the total affirmative and negative vote would register immediately after the vote was taken. All ~'~' ~ ~.~. 676;~ R~i~.w for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 voting~'~bhe exception," was public. The exception came at the request of the congregatiori ~hen it came to vote on the question of grades in the Society. Doubtless this pr0ce.dure was intended to provide the general with the oppor-tunity to vote in a way that would not compromise him in whatever future ac-tions he would have to take.as a result of the vote. The Main Themes Seventeen documents issued from the congregation, most of them originating from the ten commissions which had been established. Other documents came from special commissions appointed as the need arose. Though the documents differ in content, some common themes run throughout. Perhaps the main theme reflected in the documents is that of mission. Related to this is a reawakened awareness of the Society as a whole, of which the local communities are part. The Society, while it exists also for the sanc-tification of its members, takes its special meaning from its apostolic orienta-tion. This apostolic orientation is specified by its relationship to the Holy See, particularly through the Fourth Vow, and in its service to the Church through the promotion and defense of the faith. A characteristic of this apostolic orienta-tion is adaptability to the needs of particular times and places. In our day this involves an overriding concern to overcome the injustices which oppress so many millions of people. However, in all of its apostolic work, the goal and the means it uses are to be consistent with the tradition of the Society as set forth in its Formula of the Institute which sets forth its fundamental pontifical law. This ties in with the identity of the Society, a theme that is both the subject of one particular document and one that runs through all of the others as well. The Society is a priestly, apostolic body, bound to the Holy See in a special way for the defense and promotion of the faith. The sense of mission involves not only working with those who are op-pressed but it also involves becoming identified with them as far as this is possible. Our poverty, therefore, which has its juridical as well as evangelical aspects, takes on a particular experiential mode in so far as, by it, we can iden-tify with the poor. The decree that has to do with union of hearts and minds is also intimately related to the nature of the Society as an apostolic body. Ignatius clearly saw that the Society's apostolate depended first of all on the union of the members with God, and then derivatively on their union with one another. One theme which is conspicuous is that of repentence. The Society acknowledges that it has failed in recent years to live up to those characteristics which were suppose to distinguish it, such as obedience, loyalty to the Holy See, fidelity tO the principles of the religious life. The State of the Society One of the commissions set up early in the order of business was the one charged to examine the state of the Society. Its purpose was to form some A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 677 kind of an evaluation of the condition of the Jesuit order at this point in its history, assessing both its weaknesses and its strengths. To provide this com-mission with input, the delegates met in small groups over a period of several days. These small groups were of two kinds: what were called "assistancy groups" (for example, all of the American Jesuits belong to one "assistancy," the French to another, etc.), and "language groups," composed of people from different countries who had some facility in their own and other languages (German-English, French-English, Spanish-French, etc.) These groups dis-cussed the state of the Society in reference to key points such as formation of Jesuits, religious observance, the apostolate. These sessions broadened the practical knowledge each of us had of the Society and helped to create among us an awareness of community. They were also informative, first of all in bringing us to realize that many of the problems were common, with varying degrees of acuteness, while others were peculiar to a particular section of the Society. A criticism which many of us in the western world resonated with came from one of the German provincials in my group when he said that the image that the Society in Germany gives is that of B~rgerlichkeit, which in English connotes a comfortable, gentlemanly, middle-class existence. On the other hand, the situation of the Jesuits from behind the Iron Cur-tain, some of whom were also in my language group, has spared them some of the enervating effects of secularization. For one reason, their apostolate, where they are able to exercise it, is mostly pastoral work; secondly, their precarious existence serves to keep their faith at a high level of vitality. The delegates from the Third World countries brought other emphases. From the Spanish speaking countries there was a strong orientation toward social change, bringing with it problems of political involvement and the degree to which such involvement could subscribe to an ideology which often had Marxist overtones. In other regions, such as Africa, Indonesia and the Far East, one of the main problems is "inculturation," embodying the faith and the spirit of the Society in forms peculiar to their own cultures. As part of this evaluation on the state of the Society, Fr. General himself gave a picture of the way he sees the Society at the present, as a body which is very much alive, but with certain illnesses. He also gave a detailed description of his own relationship with the Holy See and the other officials in the Vatican, providing afterwards an opportunity for the delegates to question or discuss any of the points he had brought up. The document on the state of the Society which came out as a result of all this exchange is not one of the papers published to the Society. It was intended only for the delegates and their work in the congregation itself. However, the document is not in fact that useful. Its main value was in providing the oppor-tunity for the delegates to familiarize,themselves with the state of the Society through their live exchanges with one another. A document of this kind by its nature remains general, and gives little sense of the extent and import of either the positive or negative points. 671~ / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 The Work of the Commissions As was mentioned above, ten commissions were formed, more or less along the lines of the categories of material received in the postulates. While a few others later came into being and some of the original ones were changed, these ten commissions formed pretty much the working base of the Congrega-tion. Risking over-simplification, they could be divided into those which looked mainly inward, for example, about our "grades," the Fourth Vow, for-mation, final incorporation into the Society (final vows), central government, the constitution of provincial and general congregations; those which looked outward, namely, the mission of the Society today, inculturation, the service of the Society to the Church; and finally those which look both inward and outward, for example, on union of hearts, the Jesuit today. Some comments on a few of the documents might contribute to a better understanding of them. 1. The Mission of the Society Today The decree which took up the lion's share of the time, and which provided the platform for most of the rhetoric was the one that dealt with the mission of the Society today. The very nature of the topic explains why it took so long to come up with a satisfactory formulation. It involves an articulation that had to bring together the old and the new: fidelity to the essentials of the Society's apostolic nature, and coming to grips with the needs of today. While such a formulation has its own difficulties, the problem was exacer-bated by an initially one-sided approach and by the impression that some gave of using language more appropriate to political parties than to a religious group attempting to clarify its mission. The initial approach was largely horizontal, too much concentrated on the socio-economic aspects, with too lit-tle of the priestly. In the effort to make the congregation conscious of the urgency of these problems there was a tendency to absolutize what was in fact only one aspect of the Society's apostolate. One of the observations offered by Cardinal Villot in the letter in which he com-municated the Pope's authorization to promulgate the work of the congregation pertains to this decree. He stresses an important point, which is already present in the decree, but which deserves emphasis, namely, that the total work of evangelization has a comprehen-sion that cannot be reduced to working for social justice, and secondly that there is a priestly way of working for social justice that is distinct from the proper role of the laity. No one can judge from the final document how much work went into it. If one were tothink of a carpenter shop filled with shavings, and one tiny cabinet to show for the work, the comparison would be apt. The final decree, though somewhat diffuse, manages to relate the fundamental apostolic orientation of the Jesuit life as a priestly order to the promotion of faith which in the real-life situation is inseparable from the promotion of justice. 2. Poverty The. subject of poverty has continued to bedevil our recent congregations. A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation ] 679 As everyone knows, there are two main aspects to what is called religious poverty: the juridical and the evangelicalwor the personal appropriation of the values of evangelical poverty. The decree on poverty, probably the most im-portant document to come out of the congregation, has two parts, the first be-ing more inspirational and exhortatory, while the second is juridical, setting down a basic reform in the structures of our institutional practice of poverty. It is not possible to enter into the technicalities of the juridical part of the decree since it presupposes some knowledge of the structure of the Society. Suffice it to say that the decree formulates what is, to my mind, a creative way of realizing for our own times the Ignatian ideal of poverty, taking into con-sideration the different socio-economic conditions of the twentieth and six-teenth centuries. On the personal side, frugality, the sense of being part of the kenotic mystery of Christ, dependence on the community, and identification with the poor are stressed. in his letter, Cardinal Villot makes two points concerning this decree. After commenting on the fact that the Holy Father was aware of the immense amount of work that had gone into this decree, which attempts to relate the traditional practice of poverty in the Society to the needs of our times, he says that considering the newness of the approach, it would be better to promulgate the decree ad experimentum, to be reviewed in the next General Congregation. He also cautions that the decree should not jeopardize the Society's traditional approach to gratuity of ministries. 3. Grades and the Fourth Vow No other subject discussed by the congregation received as much attention from the press as that of our "grades" and the Fourth Vow. As I remarked above, the delegates had proceeded in a spirit of obedience to the Holy Father's wishes, but in the spirit of Ignatian obedience which allows represen-tation of one's case to the superior, with full openness, however, to the final decision of the superior. But, as I mentioned above, the delegates were not aware of an important communication from the Holy Father which he had given to one of the officials manifesting his mind clearly on the topic. We were made aware of this special communication only after we had proceeded in good faith to take up the question, and to give an "indicative" votewone that is not definitive, but from which it is possible to infer the mind of the delegates. The indicative vote was overwhelmingly in favor of abolishing grades. One can imagine the consternation of the Holy Father when he read of the results of this in the Acta, a copy of which he received regularly, especially when he learned that we had not been given his specific directive on this matter which had been communicated to one of the officials of the congregation. This unfortunate series of events precipitated a strong response from the Vatican. First there was a letter from Cardinal Villot in the name of the Holy Father expressing his consternation at the proceedings. Later there was a letter from the Holy Father himself, tin which he expressed his wonderment, pain, disappointment. What the delegates found particularly difficult to understand in Cardinal Viilot's letter was the strong language used about the failure of Fr. Arrupe to exercise the proper kind of leadership that could have headed off this series of unfortunate events. I~1~0 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 While the delegates were still reeling from this unexpected turn of events, they learned of the directive that had been given by Cardinal Villot to one of the officials to be given to the congregation. The official explained before the whole congregation that he had not understood that he was supposed to transmit this directive to the delegates in any official way. This was a costly mistake. Yet in some ways I think it was a felix culpa because of the benefits which came out of it, as I shall comment below. At this point I should say something about the meaning of the grades and the Fourth Vow for those unfamiliar with the Society's structure and legisla-tion. When the idea of the Society was evolving in the mind and experience of Ignatius, one of the features that emerged was a conception of having membership in the Society on different levels, or "grades." For those with their final vows, there were to be three levels or grades. First of all, there are the "solemnly professed," with solemn vows of poverty, chastity, obedience, and a Fourth Vow of special obedience to the Holy Father in regard to mis-sions, that is, apostolic commissions. In the past one hundred years about 40% of Jesuit priests have belonged to this grade. In the mind of Ignatius the professed were supposed to exemplify to a special degree what he looked for in every Jesuit, proficiency in learning, a high degree of virtue, mobility, a life supported only by free-will offerings, exemplifying in their lives a similar relationship to the Vicar of Christ that the disciples showed toward Christ Himself. In addition, key positions in government were reserved to the professed, such as the office of provincial. Again, only the professed could take part in a General Congregation. In the second place, there were priests whose final vows were simple, not solemn. Without going into detail on the differences between solemn and sim-ple vows, it is sufficient to remark here that for one thing they differ accord-ing to the seriousness of the reasons needed for dispensation. This grade is that of "spiritual coadjutor." Members of this grade do not take the vow of special obedience to the Holy Father. In the third place, there are "temporal coadjutors" or brothers. Their final vows are also simple vows of poverty, chast.ity, and obedience. They have the same apostolic purpose as the priests, but have a different way of contributing to the realization of it. The grades are a feature that are peculiar to the Society. As one would sur-mise, the distinction has not been an unmixed blessing in the history of the Society. Though Ignatius never conceived of a Society which would have privileged and unprivileged castes, human nature being what it is, the results were predictable. Since human nature associates power with authority, the professed came to be considered as a kind of first-class type of Jesuit, and the non-professed as second-class. In recent years there has been much historical research on the origin of the ~grades. Also there has been considerable discussion whether the distinction of ~the grades was inextricably tied up with the vision of St. Ignatius, or whether it was something that with the change of times no longer served a purpose. The A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation Thirty-first General Congregation did not face the question head-on. It con-tented itself with broadening the norms by which a person could be admitted to profession. It also transmitted the final solution of the problem to the Thirty-second General Congregation. The intervention of the Holy Father did not directly concern grades. He limited himself to the question of the Fourth Vow, which he said could not be extended to non-priests. This intimates that the Holy Father was concerned not simply about a juridical division in the Society which could be changed by another law, but about a theological question concerning the relationship between the priestly identity of those who take the Fourth Vow and the mis-sions which are the direct object of the vow. Again (I am speculating) the intervention of the Holy Father might be a healthy reminder in this age of blurring all distinctions for the sake of dubious notions of equality, that differentiation in functions does not necessarily mean division. Reserving the Fourth Vow to priests helps to keep the priestly focus of the apostolic work of the Society which has characterized it from the begin-ning. This need not create first- and second-class citizens, but it could engender an awareness that there are different gifts within the same body by which the same goal is realized. 4. The Union of Hearts A commission without a name was set up as a kind of catchall to handle four topics that on the surface had little unity: the question of union and pluralism, communal discernment, religious life, and community life. Since I was a member of this commission from beginning to end, I feel more in touch with it than with the other commissions. It was a kind of a "Benjamin" com-mission compared with those set up to handle the "important" topics like mis-sion, grades, poverty, etc. Ironically, Benjamin was suddenly given an importance late in the con-gregation. The Holy Father in his intervention had commented on the fact that he had heard a lot about mission and justice, but little about renewal of the religious life, even though we had already been at it for two months. So all of a sudden the pressure was on to come up with something significant along those lines. The final document on union of hearts is a contemporary commentary, on Chapter One of Part VIII of our Constitutions, "Aids Toward the Uniori of Hearts." Under this heading the commission found a focus which could unite the various topics given to it. Much effort was spent in an attempt to formulate a clear statement on the subject of union and pluralism. Many of the postulates asked for such a state-ment, some of them stressing the harm coming from internal divisions, others emphasizing the need for a "healthy pluralism." Eventually the commission decided that a theoretical statement would not be helpful. Instead it for-mulated, along with principles on which union of hearts is based, certain prac-tical directives on prayer, community life, sacraments, and communal discern-ment. 682 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 The subject of communal discernment received a lot of discussion. Some wanted to turn it into a kind of Aladdin's lamp which could call forth some kind of a jinni. Others were more skeptical over the possibility of univer-salizing the practicableness of such a process. The final statement in the docu-ment attempts to locate communal discernment within the spectrum of various kinds of spiritual exchange within a community, not exaggerating its role, but on the other hand recognizing the value that it has when the right dispositions and circumstances are present. Incidentally about midway through the congregation, an ad hoc commis-sion was also established to see whether the congregation itself could not carry on its work through a method of communal discernment. After a couple of meetings, it dissolved, because it felt that proceeding according to a formal method of communal discernment was impractical for the congregation because of the large numbers involved and the wide range of subjects on the agenda. 5. The Jesuit Today In the light of the diversity that has appeared in Jesuit life over the past ten years, it was felt necessary to have a statement which would describe the meaning of being Jesuit today. The congregation was presented with five different papers, each of which approached the subject of Jesuit identity from different points of view. They opted for the one which now appears among the official decrees. The decree relates Jesuit identity today in a very simple way to our Igna-tian tradition, to our apostolic mission, and to the source, center, and goal of Jesuit life, which is the imitation of Christ. The Holy See and the General Congregation We have already commented on the intervention of the Holy See in regard to the subject of extending the Fourth Vow to non-priests. However, this is only an application of something which is much broader. The interest of the Holy See in this congregation is unparalleled in the whole history of the Society. Perhaps this comes from the fact that Pope Paul had a keen sense of its importance for the Society and for the Church itself. I have just finished once again going over the papal documents, beginning with the letter written to Fr. Arrupe on September 15, 1973, which the Holy Father wrote after Fr. General had announced the convening of the General Congregation, and concluding with the covering letter which was added to the approbation of the decrees. There is one theme running through all of these communications: the necessity of being faithful to the distinctive nature of the Society as it is expressed in the Formula of the Institute, a distinctiveness which has proved its fruitfulness over hundreds of years of experience. Specifically, the Society is described time and time again as a priestly apostolic order, with a special bond of obedience to the Holy See. There is, to be sure, a stress on the need to adapt to the needs of our times, but such adap- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation I 683 tation must always maintain the essentials as these are to be found in the For-mula. 1 Pope Paul wrote of his concern for the Society not only as the Vicar of Christ who has responsibility for the whole Church, but in terms which, unless I am mistaken, are unprecedented in the history of this relationship between the Society and the Holy See. He speaks of himself as the one who has the chief responsibility for the preservation of the Formula of the Institute, "supremus 'Formulae Instituti' fideiussor," and the chief protector and preserver of the Formula, "Formulae Instituti supremus tutor ac custos." It would not be true to say that all of the delegates responded with un-qualified enthusiasm to the interventions of the Holy Father. Though all recognized his right in abstracto to intervene, a~nd the corresponding attitude of obedience to which we were obliged and, which all gave without contesta-tion, nevertheless when the interventions came in this particular way, with these particular words and in this particular timing, there were signs of ruffled feelings. In case anyone needed reminding, we learned in the process that the delegates as a whole, while good and responsible men, are not yet ready for canonization. However, we did see in an exemplary way the incarnation of Jesuit obedience in at least one person, Fr. Arrupe. This was not something he did just "to give good example." His whole life has been so totalized by his faith that even his perceptions pick up the reality beneath the appearance. He senses the presence of the Vicar of Christ beneath the appearance of Pope Paul. The concern of the Holy Father shown in so many ways over the past few years and in a special way through his vigilance over the activities of the con-gregation are to my way of thinking a special grace for the Society. In a way that we never planned on, the interventions of the Holy Father brought us to a level of faith we would not have reached by ourselves. It also brought us to a realization that the Society is a servant of the Church. In some small way the history of this congregation parallels the description of Peter's death, about whom our Lord said, "You will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather not go" (Jn 21:18). Father Arrupe I have already mentioned that if it were not for Fr. Arrupe's example and leadership the congregation would have capsized under the difficulties it ran into. He constantly called us to a vision we needed in order to see what was happening from a supernatural point of view, and in order to avoid the traps of tNot many Jesuits are aware either of the content or the importance of the Formula of the Institute. Yet, even more than the Constitutions, it is the basic rule or fundamental code of legisla-tion in the Society. It contains the results of the deliberations of Ignatius and his companions in 1539 which provided the first sketch of the Institute of the Society of Jesus. It was first approved by Paul Iil in 1540, then again by Julius 111 in 1550 in a slightly revised form. 684 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 self-pity or recrimination that were only too present. Like one of th~ prophets, he reminded us to see what was happening as coming from the hand of God, and to use it for our own purification and conversion. In a talk given to the delegates on the second day of the congregation, he spoke of the answer that we had to give to the needs of our times. It should be the foolishness of the cross by which Christ redeemed the world, which is the wisdom of God. "In the absolute foolishness of the Cross, the emptying of all things, we find the key to the ultimate solution to the problems of today." In a way we did not foresee, those words were prophetic. Again, he exercised his leadership by leaving the congregation free to follow the paths where its deliberations would take it. In its authority, the General Congregation is superior to the general. Fr. Arrupe always acted with full awareness of this fact. On occasion he would let the delegates know how he felt about certain things, not to pressure them, but in order to make this part of the input of their deliberations. The congregation showed its appreciation of his leadership over the past ten year,s in many ways. There are few who have had to pilot a ship through such a stormy period. The burden has not been easy. But there is always evi-dent in him the same buoyancy and infectious joy that somehow puts him in touch with the Stillpoint that is beyond, above, beneath the storm. Yet, while realizing his outstanding qualities, the delegates did not apotheosize Fr. Arrupe. They realized that with all of his gifts there were also limitations. In fact, the decree which set up a council for the general was framed mainly to supply the kind of help which might balance out the one-sidedness of some of his gifts. Differences Between This Congregation and the Previous Ones The Thirty-second (2ongregati0n had many characteristics which made it very different from any preceding General Congregation. Some of the more important ones might be the following. As was mentioned above, there was a four-year period of preparation for this congregation which was unprecedented. Similarly a few months before the actual opening day a special preparatory commission met to organize the material. This was the first General Congregation where, from the start, traditional rules of secrecy were lifted, except for the prohibition against making public either the names of delegates who spoke on the different questions, or the tally of the votes. Five Jesuit journalists were given free access to the meetings. They published a report about every week that kept the Society informed of the progress of affairs. In this Congregation for the first time the voices of the Third World were not only heard in larger numbers, but they showed a vitality that added zest to the meetings. However, even among these voices there were different accents. All of them were keenly aware of the injustices which oppress their peoples by reason of the exploitation of the capitalistic countries. However, the Spanish- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 685 speaking delegates tended to stress political and social involvement; the Africans continually reminded us of the need for the sense of the transcendent, the specifically God-and-Christ-centered nature of our apostolate; and those from the Far East, while keeping these same perspectives, also stressed the need for approaches that were directed both toward personal conversion and change of the structures. No other congregation has met at a period when there has been such a crisis in vocations. Over the past ten years, the Society has diminished from about 36,000 to 30,000 members. While in some places the number of novices has begun to pick up again, the overall picture remains dim. In 1965 there were 1902 novices compared to 705 in 1974. In the United States there are about 200 novices, showing a slight increase over the past few years. In some coun-tries, however, the picture is dismal. Spain, for example, had 269 novices in 1965. In 1974 it had only 30. Germany had 114 in 1965. At present it has about 30. Similar figures could be given for France, Belgium, Holland, Italy. When one compares the number of scholastics presently in their training with the number of priests engaged in apostolic work, there is only one scholastic for every five priests. This will seriously change the scope of our apostolic work over the next fifty years. Another unique factor was the everpresent concern of the Holy See in regard to the preparation for the congregation, the things taken up, and the final results, as I have mentioned above. The theme was repeated over and over again: be faithful to yourselves, especially to your identity as it is ex-pressed in your Formula of the Institute. The only specific feature which was singled out in the expressions of this concern was fidelity to the lgnatian idea of the Fourth Vow, both positively in the fact that it should be a vital factor in the life of the Society, and negatively in that it should not be extended to non-priests. Again, the fact of asking the congregation to submit its decrees to the Holy See for its approval before they were promulgated was unprecedented. The approbation was given with, in some instances, a few qualifications. Another characteristic which distinguishes this congregation from begin-ning to end and is evident in the decrees is thee theme of repentance. There is a mea culpa, mea maxima culpa evident in the Introductory Decree, the Decree on Mission, on The Jesuit Today, as well as in others. The Society is painfully conscious of its failings over the past ten years. Particularly in contrast to the Thirty-first Congregation, with its stress on freedom, subsidiarity and conscience, this one stressed the complementary features of the limits of pluralism, the need for norms that are applicable for Jesuit life as a whole, the responsibility of superiors for a greater firmness in governing, the importance of the manifestation of conscience both for the spiritual direction of the individual, and the good of the apostolate, the value of communal discernment when the proper conditions are realized. This congregation, unlike others, had a unifying theme throughout: the mission of the Society today. This did not happen because it was planned. There was a kind of unconscious dynamic at work which imperceptibly gave 686 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 this orientation to the various decrees. The consciousness of mission, if fully appropriated in all of its richness, could do much to revivify the Society, over-coming in the first place a great deal of individualism and self-will, and bring-ing about a greater sense of the living presence of Christ sending through His Church, and through superiors. In the actual procedure of the congregation there were unique features arising from the sharing that took place in smaller groups. One of the most im-portant parts of our daily life was the concelebrated Mass which was celebrated according to the different language groupings. Finally this congregation is probably distinctive in the fact that a little over half of the delegates were under forty-nine years old (122 out of the 236). Strengths and Weaknesses of the Congregation Like all meetings of this kind there are both strengths and weaknesses to be found. I could not resist the temptation to say that one of the strengths was un-doubtedly sheer psychological tenacity to "keep at it" for over three months when everyone was exhausted both from the work itself and the emotional strain. But the main strength of the congregation is the sense of solidarity manifest among the delegates and throughout the Society, a solidarity coming from a vision based on faith and brought into an Ignatian focus through the Spiritual Exercises and our Jesuit tradition. However, I think that there are also some deficiences evident in the work and structure of the congregation. Some way has to be found to expedite the carrying out of business. Though it was an attempt to get the input from the whole Society, on balance, the analysis of the postulates took up too much time. And questions of order consumed interminable hours. In regard to particular questions, in retrospect, it might have been a serious mistake not to have separated in some way the question of the Fourth Vow from that of grades. While they are related, they are distinct. And the interven-tion of the Holy See was concerned with the Fourth Vow, and not directly with grades. Again the expression given to the relationship of the Society to the Holy Father is "safe," but it creates the impression of one who is driving a car with one foot on the accelerator and the other on the brake. It does not seem to ex-press the 61an of Jesuit spirituality in its fullness. One reason for this inade-quacy stems from the fact that the congregation came to the topic only in the last few days before it ended, and the members did not have the mental energy or the time to do justice to it. Another difficulty is in the formulation itself. Attempts to combine both the unreserved expression of the spirit of loyalty and the juridical aspect of limits tend to cancel one another out. For example, there were numerous attempts, all sterile, to speak of "mission" in relationship to "doctrine," wherein loyalty would be unreserved in regard to mission, but conditioned in regard to doctrine. Consequently the resulting statement is bland, not nuanced. This will probably be one of the main topics that will have to be taken up at the next General Congregation. A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation Another deficiency is the fact that the congregation treated those problems which are more obvious because they have a certain shrillness--the problem, for example, of global injustice. Just as important, however, but without the volume being turned up, are questions touching man and technology, par-ticularly the genetic manipulation of man. Again, these questions will probably have to be faced by the next congregation. What to Hope For If the Society as a whole could translate what is set down in the decrees from formulation into fact, it would be renewed. In turn it would become a great force in renewing the Church and the world. What hope is there for such a renewal? The parable of the sower and the seed has its application to the Society as well as to the Church. There are those whose roots are not deep enough to withstand trials. There are others whose life of faith is choked by cares and riches. But then there are the many who do yield fruit, some, a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Decrees, however excellent, are no substitute for the gospel-call to totality. To the degree that individuals open themselves to the radical call of the gospel will they also open themselves to the decrees, which after all are only a faltering attempt to express this radical call in a way that is both Ignatian and contemporary. There are many factors which will contribute to energizing this renewal. Many feel a need for a deeper life of prayer. The importance of spiritual direc-tion is expressing itself strongly. A fuller appropriation of the Spiritual Exercises ¯ through the directed retreat is a great blessing. Again, an important factor is the reinforcement and leadership given to the Society by other religious con-gregations which have already led the way in the renewal of religious life by bringing their lives more in conformity with gospel simplicity and single-mindedness. We can also hope that we will not repeat the mistakes of the past ten years. Considering the turmoil and confusion coming from "future shock," these mistakes are perhaps understandable. But no organization can exist in a state of continuous convulsion. Many of the delegates, in searching for answers to the problems which faced us "discovered" our Thirty-first Congregation, which someone described as the great congregation in the history of the Society. We found that in many cases we could not do better, in fact could hardly come up to the decrees of the Thirty-first. But we also felt like a traveler who had spent hours trying to find his way only to discover after much meandering that there was a map in his glove compartment. The documents of the Thirty-first General Congreg -tion were such a map. The logical question, then, is: why were not the decrees implemented? A still more haunting question is: will the same thing happen to the decrees of this congregation? This was a problem which preoccupied the delegates throughout the whole time. Meetings were held to discuss implementation. But as the saying goes, 61~! / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 there is many a slip,between the cup and the lip. How much will the Society be able to drink in from the decrees? One of the main sources of hope, in addition to those mentioned above, is a renewed sense of solidarity and confidence among the provincials, and a strong sense of support in Fr. General. In the past ten years very often inaction resulted not from a failure of courage or faith, but because of a blurring of ideas concerning the fundamentals of religious life, often enough because of contradictory views bandied by theologians. The provincials obviously have not suddenly received some formula of universal application to solve all problems, but there is a greater sense of assurance and direction. The weight of implementation turns around the local superiors with the support of the provincials. There is hope here also, because the superiors themselves have a greater sense of their solidarity and of their role as spiritual leaders of the local communities. Ultimately the problem is always the same: conversion. It is something never accomplished once and for all, but continues to repeat its call. There are the perennial obstacles to conversion: inertia, self-love, self-will, the evil spirits that affect us all as individuals. However, it especially in the way that the collectivity reenforces the inertia in individuals that we find the main obstacle today. Group-think and group-feel, in large part created through the media, produce a kind of closedness that filters down from a collective level to in-dividuals, bringing about imperceptibly a closedness in the individual. Each one, young or old, is caught in some degree on this split level of collectivity and self, and suffers from the unfreedom of the collectivity. Jesuits already engaged in the apostolate have to discern how much this group-think affects their personal lives, impeding their personal conversion and the fruitfulness of their apostolate. Jesuits who are in formation have to do the same. The responsibility of those who are in charge of training the younger Jesuits is great. The importance of the congregation comes not from the written decrees but from the support that these decrees give to creating in the Society a different kind of group-think, a "group-feel" based upon the gospel. "My name is legion." Legions can be driven out only by legions. The demonic in collectivity can only be driven out by the embodiment of holiness in collec-tivity. The Society will rise or fall to the extent that the good will of the in-dividual is supported and sustained by a corporate realization of sanctity. No individual can abdicate the responsibility for his own conversion. But in a special way superiors have a responsibility for the whole group. Newman remarked somewhere that good is never done except at the expense of those who do it, and truth is never enforced except at the sacrifice of its propounders. Reformers and prophets have never been well received. Perhaps superiors are destined to enter into that role, not, however, with a martyr complex or heaviness of heart. We have a living example in Fr. Arrupe that it is a role that is compatible with a deep joy. Aiding and facilitating the work of the superiors are the communities A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 689 themselves which are called upon, through community meetings and prayerful discernment, to face their own response to the gospel call to simplicity, and to bridge the gap between the radical response to which we have vowed our lives and the actual way in which we live them. When I asked one of the delegates who was in great part responsible for the formulation of the decree on poverty how optimistic he was about its im-plementation, he said: "When I think of human nature, I am not very op-timistic. But when I think of the power of the Spirit, 1 am hopeful. Everything depends on the Spirit. Legislation can support; it cannot convert. Of ourselves we are weak, but with the power of the Spirit we can overcome, overcome even ourselves." POSITION OPEN The Department of Theology in the School of Religious Studies of the Catholic University of America announces the opening, beginning January, 1976, for: Assistant, Associate or Full Professor in the field of Christian Spiritual Theology. Applications should be sent to:Chairperson Department of Theology Catholic University of America Washington, DC 20064 The Catholic University of America is an equal ol~portunity employer. The Recovery =of Religious Life Bro. Raymond L. Fitz, S.M. Bro. Lawrence J. Cada, S.M. Both authors belong to the Marianist Training Network. Brother Raymond Fitz is director of the Marianist Institute of Christian Renewal and associate professor of Engineering Management and Electrical Engineering at the University of Dayton. He lives at 410 Edgar Avenue; Dayton, Ohio 45410. Brother Lawrence Cada is chairman of the Department of Science and Mathematics at Borromeo College of Ohio and lives at 315 East 149 Street; Cleveland, Ohio 44110. I. Introduction~ How long will the turmoils now besetting religious life last? Are they almost over, and has the process of returning to a more normal situation begun? Or will things stay unsettled for some time to come? This article will argue for the likelihood of the latter alternative. On the basis of the models and analyses presented, the article will try to show that religious life in America is undergo-ing a profound transition, which will take another twenty to twenty-five years to run its full course. Moreover, the study will seek to demonstrate that social disintegration (loss of membership, lack of vocations, collapse of institutions, etc.) of religious communities in the Church will probably continue for at least the next ten to fifteen years. The most significant questions facing religious life in those ten to fifteen years will center on "death and dying." Many aspects of the life as it has been known will be passing away. Only after these questions are accepted and creatively answered can religious life be expected to be revitalized and renewed within the Church. This process will demand both a recovery of that deep dynamic impulse which first gave rise to religious life in the Church and a recovery from the malaise through which it is now passing: tThis is a draft of a work in progress. Feedback on the content and style of this paper would be ap-preciated. 690 The Recovery of Religious Life hence the title "The Recovery of Religious Life." Although much of this arti-cle argues for the plausibility of these assertions and their implications for the future of religious life, there will also be provided an explanation of how the data were collected and organized, and of what was called important or unim-portant. In this sense, these assertions represent a starting bias that informs the entire article. As such, this bias merits being stated at the outset. The approach taken in this article2 is to explore the questions about the future of religious life from a historical and sociological point of view. In the first two parts of the article, two models are developed: a historical model of the evolution of religious life as a movement in the Church and a sociological model dealing with the organizational life cycle of an individual religious com-munity. Then, in the final sections of the article, these two models will be used to address questions about the present condition of religious life and its future. Every model represents a simplification of reality, and the models in this arti-cle are no exception. To arrive at the questions posed in the final sections, the article will digest and condense large amounts of material drawn from a variety of sources that are partially indicated in the notes. It is hoped that this simplification is not a serious distortion of the facts and that it will arrange the historical and other data in such a way as to provide an overview from which some tentative generalizations can be made. II. The Evolution of Religious Life: A Historical Model Religious communities in the life of the church are not fixed and static en-tities. Taken together they make up a historical process unfolding over time, and religious life can be viewed as a significant social movement in the history of Western Culture. As parts of a movement, religious communities arose in response to dramatic social change in the Church and in the larger cultural and political arena of Western Civilization. They became a dynamic force in shap-ing and cha~ging the Church and secular culture. They have been both a cause and an effect of social change: the founding of religious communities has fre-quently been a response to major developments of society, and the evolution of the Church and Western Culture has been significantly influenced by the life and work of religious communities. As in all social movements, the role of myth, the emergence of belief systems, the fashioning of institutions and social structures, and the role of personal transformation and commitment are central to the evolution of religious life. The dynamic interplay of all these elements creates, sustains and limits the histo~'ical unfolding of religious communities. ~This article grew from a variety of experiences over an extended period of time with multiple presentations at workshops and reflections from many religious. Especially helpful were Fr. Norbert Brockman, S.M., Sr. Gertrude Foley, S.C., Bro. Thomas Giardino, S.M., and Sr. Carol Lichtenberg, S.N.D. The scheme of dividing the history of religious life into the five eras presented in the second part of this article was first suggested in a lecture given by Fr. David Fleming, S.M., at the University of Dayton in December, 1971. 692 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 A. Organizing Concepts One way to view the unfolding of religious life within the Church is to look at how the image of religious life has evolved over time and what implications this evolution has had for the functioning of individual religious communities.3 The term dominant image of religious life is used here to name a multifaceted reality that includes how religious view their life and its functions and role within the Church and the world during a given period. The term is also meant to indicate the sense of history which permeates religious life at a given time. How do people, both the religious and the members of society at large, picture the past of this way of life? What kind of future are religious supposed to be creating? The process by which the dominant image of religious life evolves in time can be characterized by a repeated sequence of identifiable phases of change: - Growth Phase. A relatively long period of elaboration and develop-ment of the dominant image of religious life and its implications. - Decline Phase. A period of crisis in which the dominant image of religious life comes under strong question. Religious communities seem no longer suited to the aspirations of the age. Religious com-munities lose their purpose, drift into laxity, and disintegrate. Transition Phase. A comparatively short period of revitalization in which variations of the dominant image of religious life emerge and one of these is gradually selected as the new dominant image. - Growth Phase under a New Image. A period of elaboration and development under the new dominant image of religious life. The supposition that religious life has passed through a succession of such phases of growth, decline, and transition is the basis of a model that can be used to organize and interpret the data of the history of religious life.4 The remainder of this section is devoted to illustrating a way this model might be constructed. 3Some sources used to clarify the notion of dominant image were Fred Polak, The hnage of the Future, translated and abridged by Elise Boulding (San Francisco: Jassey-Bass, 1973); Changing Images of Man, Policy Research Report No. 4, Center for the Study of Social Policy, Stanford Research Institute, May, 1974; and Kenneth E. Boulding, The Image: Knowledge in Life and Society (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1961). *Some sources used to clarify the notion of social evolution were Stephen Toulmin, Human Understanding-I (Princeton: P. U. P., 1972); Anthony F. C. Wallace, "'Paradigmatic Processes in Cultural Change," American Anthropologist (Vol. 74, 1972), pp. 467-478; Donald T. Campbell, "'Variation and Selective Retention in Socio-Cultural Evolution," in H. R. Barringer, G. I. Blanksten, and R. W. Mack (¢ds.), Social Change in Developing Areas (Cambridge, Mass.: Schenkman, 1965); Edgar S. Dunn, Economic and Social Development." A Process of Social Learn-ing (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins U. P., 1971); and Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962). The Recovery of Religious Life / 693 The following questions have been used in fashioning the model. First, there are questions about variation that deal with searching and experiment-ing. Under what conditions do variations appear in the dominant image of religious life? If these variations lead in certain directions, what factors in culture, the Church, or religious life itself influenced the choice of those direc-tions? Second, there are questions about selection. What determines which variations in the dominant image of religious life are selected out to serve as essential elements of a new image of religious life? How do members of religious communities distinguish well-founded and properly justified variations from those which are precipitous, not well thought out, and hasty? ¯ Finally, there are questions about retention that deal with incorporating and establishing the new. How are selected variations incorporated into religious communities? What processes are needed? What set of factors distinguishes in-novations which endure from those which disappear quickly? B. Major Eras in the Evolution of Religious Life Using the concepts described above, the history of religious life can be divided into five main periods: the eras of the Desert Fathers, Monasticism, the Mendicant Orders, the Apostolic Orders, and the Teaching Congregations) The description of these eras given in this section constitutes the historical model that will be used in the final portion of this article. 1. Era of the Desert Fathers The first period was the Era of the Desert Fathers. Following the earliest manifestations of religious life in the mode of consecrated virgins and widows within the Christian communities of the persecuted Church, ther~ emerged the image of the religious as the ascetic holy person. The description of the her-mit's life given by Athanasius in his Life of Anthony crystallized an ideal which inspired both solitary anchorites and many communities of cenobites. The desert was seen as the domain of the demons to which they had retreated after being driven out of the cities by the triumph of the recently established Church. It was to this "desert" that generous men and women withdrew to 5Factual and historical data on the history of religious life were gathered from such standard sources as The Catholic Encyclopedia (1907), The New Catholic Encyclopedia (1967), the An-nuario Pontificio, The Official Catholic Directory, and The Catholic Almanac. Some of the other sources on this topic were Raymond Hostie, S.J., Vie et mort des ordres religieux (Paris: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1972); David Knowles, O.S.B., Christian Monasticism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1969); Humbert M. Vicaire, O.P., The Apostolic Life (Chicago: Priory Press, 1966); Derwas J. Chitty, The Desert a City (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1964); Owen Chadwick, John Cassian, 2nd ed. (Cambridge: C. U. P., 1968); William Hinnebusch, O.P., "'How the Dominican Order Faced Its Crises," Review for Religious (Vol. 32, No. 6, November, 1973), pp. 1307-1321; William A. Hinnebusch, O.P., The History of the Dominican Order, 2 vols. (New York: Alba House, 1966, 1973); Teresa Ledochowska, O.S.U., Angela Merici and the Company of St. Ursula, 2 vols. (Rome: Ancora, 1969); William V. Bangert, S.J., A History of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1972); and Adrien Dansette, Religious History of Modern France, 2 vols. (New York: Herder and Herder, 1961). 69t~ / Review for Religious, lZolume 34, 1975/5 carry on the Church's important work of doing battle with the devil in the wilderness as Christ had done long ago. In this way the desert came to be seen as a place of austere beauty, where the monk was trained in the ways of perfec-tion. He returned from time to time into the midst of his fellow Christians, who saw in him the power to do good--healing the sick, casting out demons, comforting the sorrowful with gentle words, reconciling the estranged, and above all urging everyone to put nothing in the world before the love of Christ. This image captured the imagination of the Christian world as news about the Desert Fathers spread from Egypt to all points of the Roman empire. Throughout the 4th century monasteries sprang up on all the shores of the Mediterranean. By the 5th century, the golden age had begun to fade. In the East, the monks had become embroiled in doctrinal controversy. In the West, TABLE 1: ERA OF THE DESERT FATHERS (200-500) Dominant Image of Religious Life. The ideal of religious life is the holy ascetic who seeks " the perfection of Christ as a solitary or in community with a group of monks. Disciples withdraw into the "desert" and place themselves under the care of a master ascetic who teaches them the ways of perfection. They live nearby as hermits or gather in cenobia or monasteries where the master is the superior. The monk prays, mortifies himself, does battle with the devil for the sake of the Church, and spends his life seeking union with Christ. 2nd and 3rd Centuries 251 Anthony horn Consecrated virgins and widows live a form of 271 Anthony withdraws into the desert RL within Christian communities of the early 292 Pachomius born Church during the persecution. 4th Century 313 Edict of Milan 325 Pachomius founds cenobium 356 Anthony ~lies 357 Athanasius writes Life of Anthony 360 Basil founds monastery in Cappadocia 363 Martin founds monastery in Gaul 376 Melania founds monastery on Mount of Olives 393 Augustine founds monastic group in Hip-po 399 Cassian, disciple of Evagrius, migrates from Egypt to West Hermits and cenobites flourish in the Egyptian desert. Various forms of solitary and com-munity RL spread around eastern rim of the Mediterranean (Palestine, Syria, Cappadocia). First monasteries are founded in the West. 5th Century 410 Alaric sacks Rome RL continues to expand in the East. Spread of 415 Cassian founds monastery in Marseille wandering monks and various kinds of 455 Vandals sack Rome monasteries in the West while the western half 459 Simon the Stylite dies of the Roman Empire crumbles. 476 End of western Roman Empire 1st TRANSITION: SPREAD OF BENEDICT'S RULE The Recovery of Religious Life / 69t~ the foundations of Roman civilization weakened under the onslaught of the barbarian tribes, and the ties between the eastern and western halves of the Empire began to break apart. The monasteries in Gaul and other parts of the moribund West became refugee cloisters, where the monks gathered the few treasures of civilization they could lay hold of. As dusk settled on the glories of imperial Rome, the stage was set for the rise of feudal Europe and with it the next period in the evolution of religious life. 2. Era of Monasticism The next period was the Era of Monasticism. In his attempt to regularize religious life as "a life with God in separation from the world," Benedict produced a new dominant image of religious life. This image was not only a correction of the abuses which had crept in during the 5th and 6th centuries, it also, and more importantly, turned out to be a successful adaptation of religious life to the feudal society of the Dark Ages and the early medieval period. Benedict's short and practical Rule furnished workable guidelines for all monastic activity and every age and class of monks. It combined an uncom-promising spirituality with physical moderation and flexibility. It emphasized the charity and harmony of a simple life in common under the guidance of a wise and holy abbot. By the 9th century, this new image had spread to virtually all the monasteries of Europe. The ideal of the Benedictine monk became the model for Christian spirituality and played a part in the stabilization and unification of society. Various modifications, such as the Cluniac, Carthusian, and Cister-cian Reforms, maintained and adapted the dominant image to the developments in European society. Cluny and the Cistercians devised methods of uniting monasteries into networks that became harbingers of the modern order. However, by the time the 'first stirrings of urbanization began at the end of the 12th century, the dominant image began to show its inadequacies and once again laxity in religious life was not uncommon. There was also a great debate between monks and canons about which form of religious life was a more authentic embodiment of the apostolic ideal. As the civilization of the high Middle Ages began to emerge, new possibilities were felt in society and with them came the opportunity for a transition in religious life. 3. Era of the Mendicant Orders When Francis and Dominic launched their communities, they ushered in the next period, the Era of the Mendicant Orders. As mendicant friaries sprang up in towns across Europe, they met with an initial hostility which could not fathom how this new style could be an authentic form of religious life. Gradually, though, the new image of religious life became acceptable, and it proved to be a much better adaptation of ~:eligious life to the needs of urban society than was possible for the monasteries in their rural settings. During the course of the 13th century, even the monastic orders established studia close 696 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 to the new universities, where the mendicants were flourishing. As Christen-dom was passing through its zenith, the image of a religious life unen-cumbered with landed wealth played a key role in the cultivation of the in-tellectual life by the Church within society and in the preaching of the Gospel for the Church. TABLE 2: ERA OF MONASTICISM (500-1200) Dominant Image of RL. Life in a monastery is the ideal of the religious. The daily round of liturgical prayer, work, and meditation provides a practical setting to pursue the lofty goals of praising God and union with Christ. Within the Church and society, the monks set an example of how deep spirituality can be combined with loving ministry to one's neighbor and dutiful fidelity to the concrete tasks of daily living. 6th Century 529 Benedict founds a monastery to live ac- Spread of monasteries throughout western cording to his Rule Europe (Gaul, Spain, Ireland, etc.). Various 540 Celtic monasticism takes root in Irela'nd formats. Excesses and laxity are common--as 590 Columbanus founds monastery in Lu~r are wandering monks. euil 7th and 8th Centuries 642 Arab conquest of Egypt Gradual spread of Benedict's Rule to.more and 700 Venerable Bede more monasteries of Europe. Missionary 746 Boniface founds monastery in Germany journeys of Celtic monks to evangelize 755 Canons of Chrodegang founded northern Europe. 9th Century 816 Regula Canonicorum of Aix-la-Chapelle Observance of Canons Regular is made uni- 817 Charlemagne's son decrees that form by the spread of the Rule of Aix. Con- Benedict's Rule is to be observed in all solidation of Benedict's Rule. Virtually all monasteries. This project coordinated by monasteries are "Benedictine." Benedict of Aniane. 910 Cluniac Reform 1084 Carthusian Reform 1098 Cistercian Reform 10th and llth Centuries Various reforms breathe new life into Benedict's ideal and introduce organizational variations. 1111 Bernard joins the Cistercians 1120 Premonstratensians founded 12th Century Canons Regular unite into orders which are a variation of the monastic networks of Cluny and Citeaux. Military orders attempt a new form of RL which is temporarily successful (Knights of Malta, Templars, Teutonic Knights, etc.). 2nd TRANSITION: RISE OF THE MENDICANTS After a rapid flowering, the mendicant orders were affected by the same changes which spread across the Church and European society in the 14th and 15th centuries. As the Renaissance presaged the new humanism, the secularization of European society, and the breakup of the unity of Christen-dom, there emerged the conditions for yet a new kind of religious life. The Recovery of Religious Life / 697 TABLE 3: ERA OF THE MENDICANT ORDERS (1200-1500) Dominant Image of RL. The simple friar who begs for his keep and follows in the footsteps of the Lord is the ideal of RL. He prays as he goes, steeping himself in the love of Christ. Unencumbered by landed wealth, the mendicants are free to travel on foot to any place they are needed by the Church. They hold themselves ready to preach, cultivate learning, serve the poor, and minister to the needs of society in the name of the Church. 1211 Franciscans founded 1216 Dominicans founded 1242 Carmelites founded 1256 Augustinians founded 13th Century Mendicant friaries spring up in medieval towns across Europe. These foundations lend themsel~,es to work in the new universities and the apostolate of preaching. Rapid expansion of the mendicant orders. Monastic orders make some attempts to take up the style of the mendicants. 1325 75,000 men in mendicant orders 1344 Brigittines founded 1349 Black Death 1400 47,000 men in mendicant orders 1415 Hus burned at the stake 1450 Gutenberg 1492 Columbus 1500 90,000 men in mendicant orders 14th Century ~tabilization and slow decline of the mendicant orders. Abuses in RL are prevalent. 15th Century Various reforms restore the mendicant ideal and produce a gradual increase in membership. First stirrings of the Renaissance introduce an uneasiness into the Church and RL. 3rd TRANSITION: THE COUNTER-REFORMATION 4. Era of the Apostolic Orders The transition to the next period in religious life, the era of the Apostolic Orders, happened with the Counter-Reformation. Not long after Luther sparked the Protestant Revolt, the new image of religious life appeared with the foundation of various orders of Clerics Regular, the chief of which were the Jesuits. The verve and style of this new foundation set the pace for religious life, The mendicant orders had taken up this ideal in part by joining in the mis-sionary conquests,of the Church in the newly discovered lands. The new image also spurred religious to come to terms with the secularizing trends of the scientific revolution, modern philosophy, and the rise of nationalism in Europe. Jesuits, for example, could be found in the royal courts of almost all of Europe's Catholic kingdoms, in the laboratories of the new scientists, and teaching the youthful Descartes at La Fl~che. As the proponents of the Enlightenment testily challenged the very ex-istence of the Church, a slow decline descended upon religious life. Large and nearly empty monasteries dotted the European countryside. Jansenist and Enlightened thought undermined the.rationale for religious life from opposite directions. The Bourbon kings succeededin persuading Rome to suppress the 69~! / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 Jesuits in 1773. On the eve of the French Revolution, worldwide membership in all the men's religious orders stood at about 300,000; by the time the Revolution and the secularization which followed had run their course, fewer than 70,000 remained. Many orders went out of existence. As the 19th century began, there was need of a thorough-going revival of religious life, which could realistically cope with the new consciousness of Europe. TABLE 4: ERA OF THE APOSTOLIC ORDERS (1500-1800) Dominant Image of RL. Religious are an elite of dedicated and militant servants of the Church with a high level of individual holiness, a readiness to defend the Church on any front, and the zeal to win new expansion for the Church to the very ends of the earth. 1517 Luther sparks the Reformation 1535 Ursulines founded 1540 Jesuits founded 1541 Francis Xavier sails for Far East 1545 Trent starts 1562 Discalced Carmelite Reform 16th Century RE virtually wiped out in Protestant Europe. Founding and expansion of a new kind of RL in the format of the Clerics Regular. These groups work at shoring up the Church's political power in Catholic Europe, reforming the Church, and spreading the Gospel in the foreign missions. 17th Century 1610 Visitation Nuns founded 1625 Vincentians founded 1633 Daughters of Charity founded 1650 St. Joseph Sisters founded 1662 Ranc6 launches Trappist Reform 1663 Paris Foreign Mission Society founded 1681 Christian Brothers founded 1700 213,000 men in mendicant orders Flowering of spirituality, especially in French School, leads to new foundations such as the various societies of priests and clerical con-gregations. Bulk of men religious still belong to mendicant orders. 1725 Passionists founded 1735 Redemptorists founded 1770 300,000 men in RL in world 1773 Jesuits suppressed by Rome 1789 French Revolution starts 18th Century A few clerical congregations emerge, but RL as a whole seems to be in decline due to the in-roads of Enlightenment thought, Jansenism, wealth, and laxity. Weakened RL is given the coup de gr?tce by the French Revolution, which sets off a wave of political suppression and defection in France and the rest of Catholic Europe. 4th TRANSITION: FRENCH REVOLUTION 5. Era of the Teaching Congregations The revival of religious life which occurred in the next period, the Era of the Teaching Congregations, set off in a new direction. There were about 600 foundations of new communities in the 19th century. They were, for the most part, dominated by the movement of educating the masses. For the first time The Recovery of Religious Life / 699 in European history, the idea of educating everyone had the possibility of be-ing concretely realized. The new congregations joined in this movement in hopes of planting the seeds of a hardy faith in the souls of the children they taught by the thousands. This zeal for the education of children was combined with a cleansed Jansenistic spirituality to form the new image of religious life. While the activity of religious spilled over into other apostolic works such as hospitals, teaching set the pace. Even the few pre-Revolution orders which were managing a slow recovery took on many of the trappings of the typical 19th century teaching congregation. For the first time in the history of religious life, recruitment of adult vocations was almost completely displaced by the acceptance of candidates just emerging from childhood. Through the end of the 19th century and on into the 20th the religious who gave themselves to this demanding work of teaching edified the Church and produced a brand of holiness which was most appropriate for a Catholicism which sought to strengthen a papacy denuded o.f worldly power and to care for the masses of the industrialized wor.ld in need of christianization. By the mid-1960's membership in religious communities reached the highest point in the history of the Church. In the last decade, this trend was reversed for the first time in more than a century. Crises have set in which some ascribe to a loss of identity TABLE 5: ERA OF THE TEACHING CONGREGATIONS (1800-present) Dominant Image of RL. Religious dedicate their lives to the salvation of their own souls and the salvation of others. The style of life of religious men and women blends in intense pursuit of personal holiness with a highly active apostolic service. Identity with the person of Christ unites this two-fold objective into a single purpose. 19th Century 1814 French Restoration; Jesuits restored by Rome 1825 Fewer than 70,000 men in RL in world 1831 Mercy Sisters founded 1850 83,000 men in RL in world 1859 Salesians founded 1870 Papal infallibility declared Revival of RL after widespread state sup-pressions. Numerous foundations of con-gregations dedicated to a return to authentic RL blended with service, principally in schools. Old orders, such as Jesuits and Dominicans, rejuvenated in the format of the teaching con-gregations. Church gradually centralizes around the papacy and isolates itself from secular trends of the modern world 20th Century 1950 275,000 men in RL in world 1962 Vatican II starts; 1,012,000 women in RL in world 1965 335,000 men in RL in world 1966 181,500 women in RL in U.S. 1972 879,000 women in RL in world 1973 143,000 women in RL in U.S. 1974 227,500 men in RL in world Expansion and solidification. In the sixties, crises set in from within RL due to loss of iden-tity and inroads of secularizing process. Numerous defections and decreasing numbers of new members. 5th TRANSITION: (?) 700 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 and the inroads of secularism. It seems that another transition in the long history of religious life has begun. Further considerations will be undertaken in the remainder of this article to better analyze the present situation. 11I. The Life Cycle of a Religious Community: A Sociological Model The previous section of this paper focused on a historical model for the evolution of religious life as such within the Church; in this section attention is turned toward the life of the individual religious community or institute. To this end, a sociological model for the life cycle of individual religious com-munities which organizes the important dimensions of each period in the life of the communities is developed.6 This model allows further probing of the questions concerning the plausibility of a revitalization of religious life, since revitalization of present religious communities is one way that religious life as a whole will be renewed. A. Organizing Concepts To date, only thirteen men's religious orders in the entire his.tory of the Church have ever surpassed a membership figure of 10,000 at some point of their existence. The membership pattern of three of these orders--the Dominicans, the Minims, and the Jesuits--is graphed in Figure 1 below. Although these three examples are taken from among the largest orders of the Church, they are representative of the membership pattern in most religious communities, large or small. Typically one finds one or more cycles of growth and decline in the number of members. These membership patterns suggest a dynamic of inner vitality that goes on in a religious community. Using such analogies as the human life cycle and other cycles of growth and decline, a sociological model has been devised which divides the life cycle of an active religious community into five periods: foundation, expansion, stabilization, breakdown and transition. The model is shown schematically in Figure 2. The shape of this curve is intended to repre-sent the over-all vitality of the community as it passes from one period to the next. In the following section salient events and characteristics which typify each of these periods are described. An attempt is also made to isolate the crises which occur during each period. ~Some sources used to clarify the notion of a life cycle were Hostie, Vie et mort; Wallace, "'Paradigmatic Processes"; Gordon L. Lippitt and Warren H. Schmidt, "Crisis in a Developing Organization," Harvard Business Review (Vol. 45, No. 6, November-December, 1967), pp. 102- 112; and Lawrence E. Greiner, "Evolution and Revolution as Organizations Grow," Harvard Business Review (Vol. 50, No. 4, July-August, 1972), pp. 37-46; Thomas F. O'Dea, The Sociology of Religion (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1966); Luther P. Gerlach and Virginia H. Hine, People. Power and Change: Movements of Social Transformation (Indianapolis: Bobbs- Merrill, 1970). The Recovery of Religious Life / 701 _z 20 LLI ~ lO 30 1200 1300 ! \/ , st 1400 1500 1600 1700 I t I t I I I II ! I ! 1800 1900 2000 Figure 1: Membership of Dominicans, Minims, and Jesuits IFOUNDATIONIEXPANSION ISTABILIZATION BREAKDOWN TRANSITION Figure 2: Life Cycle of a Religious Community B. The Periods of the Life Cycle 1. The Foundation Period The first period in the life of a religious community centers around a found-ing person and his or her vision. The founder or foundress undergoes a radically transformi,ng experience, which can usually be pinpointed to an event or series of events, and .which is perceived as an abrupt shift in the founding 702 / Review for Religious, I/olume 34, 1975/5 person's identity and a timeless moment in which a vision or dream is received. Contained in the transforming experience is a new appreciation of the message of Jesus which leads to innovative insight on how the condition of the Church or society could be dramatically improved or how a totally new kind of future could be launched. A new impetus to live the religious life in all the totality of its demands is felt, and a new theory emerges that is at once a critique of the present, an appropriation of the past, a compelling image of the future, and a basis for novel strategies. The founding person's transforming experience is followed by the initial emergence of the community. A fortuitous encounter takes place between the founder or foundress and some contemporary men or women in which the founding experience, the innovative insight, the emerging theory, and the call to holiness are shared. The group unites under the guidance of the founding person to search for and invent new arrangements for living the Gospel together and working toward the realization of the Kingdom of God. The foundation period may last ten to twenty years or longer and fre-quently coincides with the last part of the founding person's lifetime. Integra-tion and cohesion center on the founding person and still more deeply on the person of Christ. The structural identity of the community appears in seminal form, and authority in the community springs from the wisdom of the found-ing person. Founding events of religious communities have a uniqueness about them which has caused them to be especially treasured as significant moments in the Church's past. Examples of founding persons and their visions readily come to mind: Angela Merici's dream of a new kind of religious life for women that centered on an active apostolate; the hopes of Robert of Molesme to restore fervor through the primitive observance of Benedict's Rule in the wilderness of C~teaux; Don Bosco's contagious vision of loving Christ and joyfully serving the poor. The more striking cases of founding persons receiving their in-spirations have become part of the common heritage of all religious: Anthony hearing in a Sunday Gospel the words which were the key to his life's aim; Ignatius retiring to Manresa to receive his visions. For the most part the foundation period is a time of grace and charism for a new religious community. But there are also crises that must be faced. The crisis of direction forces the community to decide which undertakings are im-portant and which must be sacrificed. The crisis of leadership confronts the community with the problem of finding out how it will live beyond the time of its founding person. The crisis of legitimization engulfs the nascent community in the question of whether or not the Church will approve it as an authentic form of religious life. The Waldensians, for example, showed some signs of becoming a new religious order on the pattern of the mendicants, but they never overcame the crisis of iegitimization. Instead of becoming a religious community, they ended up as renegades who had to hide out in the woods of medieval Europe. The Recovery of Religious Life / 70a 2. The Expansion Period When the community has emerged from the foundation period, it un-dergoes a fairly long period of expansion, during which the founding charism is institutionalized in a variety of ways. A community cult and belief system solidifies, a community polity is fashioned, and community norms and customs take hold. As members of the community's second generation mature and grow older, they recount stories of the foundation, which they have heard from the pioneers or have themselves experienced in their youth. These stories enshrine decisive events which set the community's direction or establish its characteristic traits. Gradually, rituals and symbols which express and com-memorate the most treasured facets of the foundation are fused with the.iore of the older members into a sort of sacred memory and cult that begins to be passed on from generation to generation as the community's "founding myth." Attempts are made at thinking through the founding myth and expressing it in terms of contemporary thought patterns. Eventually these efforts result in theories, interpretations, and social models which coalesce into a belief system and give a rational structure to the more intuitive thrust of the founding myth. Simultaneously, procedures are devised for community decision making and communication, and bit by bit the community's polity.takes shape. Norms are set down and customs emerge which cover all aspects of the community's life, such as membership criteria, leadership standards, and apostolic priorities. The members of the young community experience an excitement about the growth and success which characterizes the expansion period. Large numbers join the community, and new works are rapidly taken on which enhance the possibility of a still broader recruitment. Major interpreters of the founding vi-sion are recognized. Patterns of spiritual practice are determined, and the community's spirituality is made concrete in manuals of direction or other written documents. With expansion come certain organizational crises. How is authority to be delegated? What means will be used to integrate and tie together the rapidly expanding network of establishments and the burgeoning membership. When Bernard joined the Cistercians thirteen years after their foundation, he led the community through this kind of organizational crisis. In the process, a new en-tity, the general chapter, was invented to cope with the situation, and this in-novation is still a standard feature.of most religious orders today. Another crisis of this period centers on maintaining the pristine vigor of the founding vision. As rival interpretations arise, which will be discarded? A classic exam-ple of this kind of crisis occurred in the great debates about poverty among the early Franciscans just after Francis died. 3. The Stabilization Period After a fairly long expansion, which may last two to three generations or "/04 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 longer, there ensues a period of stabilization. Numerical increase in membership may continue, but geographical expansion usually slows down. The stabilization period may last a century or more, but it is sometimes as brief as fifty years or so. A feeling of success pervades the community during the stabilization period. Members experience a high degree of personal satisfaction from simply being in the community. The prevailing image of religious life is clear and accepted. It provides a basis for describing unambiguous social roles for religious. The community is accomplishing its purpose and this purpose is self-evident. The need to improve is not seen as a need to change things but simply to do better what is already being done. Gradually, as stabilization sets in, more and more of the community assumes that religious life has always been the way it is now and that it will always remain so in the future. There is little need to elaborate the understanding of the founding vision or penetrate into it more deeply. It is simply accepted and repeated to new members who join. No one is left in the community who knew the founding person or the first dis-ciples personally. Memory of the founding events takes on the cast of past his(ory that is separate from the present moment. Formation of new members emphasizes their conformity to standard patterns of external behavior that are seen as the best means of cultivating interior commitment. The over-all feeling of success which is so typical of the stabilization period is not illusory. There is in fact a job that is being done and done well by the many generous religious who devote themselves to its accomplishment. The kinds of crises that Crop up during the stabilization period are linked to the other characteristics of the period. The crisis of activism occurs. Members become so absorbed in work that they lose sight of its spiritual and apostolic underpinning. They allow the satisfactions of accomplishment to dis-place a centeredness in Christ. Loss of intensity is another crisis of the stabilization period. Is it possible to maintain the intensity of vision and com-mitment among members, now that the community has become so highly in-stitutionalized? They can often be simply carried along by the sheer inertia of the community's activity and held in place by the pressure of social expecta-tion placed on their role as religious from people in the Church. Another danger stems from the crisis of adaptation. In the midst of success the com-munity is seldom open to adaptation, and any changes that have to be made are fraught with difficulty. Quite often, even the most legitimate changes are rejected, and their proponents are righteously and intolerantly silenced. The failure of later Jesuit missionaries to implement the ideas of Matteo Ricci con-cerning Confucian practices among Chinese Catholics is perhaps a good ex-ample of the sort of resistance to adaptation that can be found during the stabilization period. 4. The Breakdown Period Eventually the seeming immutabilities of the stabilization period start to give, and the religious community enters the breakdown period. The The Recovery of Religious Life / 705 breakdown may be gradual and last a half a century or more, or it may be rapid and run its course in a few decades. In either case, what happens is a dis-mantling of the institutional structures and belief systems that arose in the ex-pansion period and served the community so well during the stabilization period. This collective decline gives rise, in turn, to stress and doubt in the in-dividual members. Initially .a number of persons become dissatisfied with the current state of the community. Perhaps they are simply struck by what they judge to be the silliness of some of the community's customs or procedures. Or they may come to see that the community's life and work are not equipped to handle im-portant new challenges. Unanswered questions about the function and purpose of the community begin to accumulate and start to raise doubts. Levels of in-dividual stress increase slowly at the beginning, but then rise rapidly as doubt spreads to more and more levels of the community's social structure. To handle the growing problems, standard remedies are tied. All that is needed, it seems, is to get back to doing well what has always been done and to renew commitment to the community's mission. However, the usual problem-solving techniques become increasingly ineffective. A sense of crisis grows as community authority and decision-making structures become confused. The community's belief system begins to appear archaic and bound in by the trap-pings and articulations of a bygone age. The founding experience and myth, which had been internalized by the community's early generations, is no longer felt by the members. As the community loses its sense of identity and purpose, service to the Church becomes haphazard and lacks direction. Moral norms in the com-munity are relaxed and some members perhaps distract themselves with sex and a misuse of wealth. There is a net loss of membership through increased withdrawals and decreased recruitment of new members. The crises that arise during the breakdown period center on the various phenomena of decline in the community. The crisis of polarization can become acute when those who have faith in the community as it was align themselves against those who in varying degrees reject the community as it is. The crisis of collapsing institutions sets in as the community is forced to stop doing "business as usual" and abandon long-established works. The resulting demoralization leads to the crisis of the community's impending death. What is to be done as the chilling awareness grows in the community that it is inex-orably listing into disintegration on all sides? 5. The Transition Period The breakdown is followed by a period of transition. Three outcomes are possible for religious communities during this period: extinction, minimal sur-vival, or revitalization. Extinction, the first of these outcomes, occurs when all the members of a community either withdraw or die and it simply passes out of existence. This happened, for example, to 76% of all men's religious orders founded before 706 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 1500 and to 64% of those founded before 1800. From a historical perspective, then, a reasonable expectation would seem to be that most religious com-munities in the Church today will eventually become extinct. A religious community which does not die out may go into a long period of low-level or minimal survival. If the membership pattern of presently existing religious orders founded before the French Revolution is examined, one finds that most of them enter into a period lasting across several centuries in which the number of members is very low. In fact, only 5% of all men's orders founded before 1500 and only 11% of the orders founded before 1800 have a current membership which is larger than 2,000. The Minims (Figure 1) are typical of the orders which once were quite large and now have a small membership. This type of outcome should not be interpreted as a dis-appearance of vitality in every case. The Carthusians, for example, follow this membership pattern. Yet they seem to be living UP to their reputation of never having relaxed their observance--never reformed and never needing reform. To this day the order's spiritual impact appears greater than its numerical strength. There is also a small percentage of religious communities which survive the breakdown period a~d enter into a period of revitalization. At least three characteristics can be singled out in all communities which have been revitalized in this way: a transforming response to the signs of the times; a reappropriation of the founding charism; and a profound renewal of the life of prayer, faith, and centeredness in Christ. The time in history fn which revitalization occurs seems to make a difference. If the revitalization occurs during one of the shifts in the dominant image of religious life singled out in the historical model above, the com-munity takes on many of the characteristics of the emerging image, and the transforming response to the signs of the times seems central to the revitaliza-tion. If the revitalization occurs midway during one of the major eras in the history of religious life identified earlier in this article, the revitalization takes on the characteristics of a reform with the reappropriation of the founding charism playing a central role. In either case the community experiences the revitalization as a second foundation. Personal transformation or conversion is central to revitalization. With personal transformation comes innovative insight and a new centering in the person of Christ. The innovative insight allows the transformed individuals within the community to develop critical awareness of the assumptions un-derlying the traditional meaning of the community and functioning of that community within the Church and the world. This innovative insight brings with it a focusing of energies through a new positive vision of what the com-munity should be in the future. The vision allows the emergence of a new theory which gives meaning to the experiences of individuals and the shared events lived within the community and spurs the community to building and creating its future. Such a new theory guides the community in the search for The Recovery of Religious Life / 707 and the invention of new models ~of living together as a community bound by. the evangelical conditions of discipleship in the service of the Church. A more complete sketch of the human dynamics of revitalization will be given in the last section of this article. The essential components of this dynamic, namely, insight and vision, and new theory and new models, are mentioned at this point to complete the picture of the life cycle of a religious community. Some limitations of this sociological model and the historical model of the previous section are given in the next section together with some generalizations that can be drawn from the models. IV. Some Limitations and Generalizations A. Limitations of the Models Before proceeding, some concluding and cautionary remarks must be made. Evidently the rapid overview of the history of religious life given in the first portion of this article should not be taken as anything more than a demonstration of how the evolution of religious life can be interpreted so as to fit the model of the five main eras that are being postulated in the proposed historical model. The account is far too compressed and over-simplified to provide an adequate and proi~erly nuanced telling of the story of religious life. For example, little attention was given to the Canons Regular, who constituted a significant portion of men religious from the Middle Ages to the French Revolution. There was no discussion of the medieval military orders nor of Orthodox monasticism. A still more gaping lacuna is the almost complete absence of any analysis of the way women's religious life differed from or followed the same pattern as that of the men. It may be that the sources used in this study were not sensitive to the distinctive role women actually played in the evolution of religious life. On the other hand, it may be that up to the present time the trends of women's religious life have been very parallel to those in the men's orders. The models proposed for the evolution of religious life and for the life-cycle of a religious community are also both simplifications. Some might validly question, for example, whether there were just five major eras in the history of religious life and whether the transitions between the eras occurred as clearly as the historical model suggests. The description of the dominant image of religious life for each era is a simplification of what was in every case a rather complex phenomenon. Hopefully, the liberties that have been taken are justified by the intention of trying to synopsize the history of religious life in such a way as to make some tentative insights more easily accessible to someone who is not a professional historian. Similarly, the breaks between the successive periods in the life cycle of a religious community are nowhere near as clear-cut as the proposed sociological model suggests. In .history, breakdowns sometimes occur within one order in different geographical locales at different times. Revitalizations often occur in some places for an order, while it decays elsewhere. At times 708 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 there are orders in which the role of the founding person is rather minor and does not have the decisiveness described in the model. Some communities have been founded in rather modest historical circumstances that were not accom-panied by the profound inspiration described in the model. These and similar qualifications must be kept in mind when the sociological model is used to in-terpret the life cycle of any particular community. B. Generalizations The models presented in the previous sections suggest some generalized conclusions. These conclusions can be helpful in exploring the present crisis of religious life. The historical evidence suggests that there have been significant shifts in the dominant image of religious life across the centuries. These shifts seem to occur when there are major societal changes astir and when the Church is un-dergoing major changes. The first transition happened as the Roman Empire fell in the West and feudal Europe was beginning; at the same time the rift between western and eastern Christianity was starting. The second transition occurred as feudal Europe was giving way to medieval urbanization and as the Church was gathering all of Europe into the unity of Christendom. The third transition took place at the start of the modern period of Western Civilization as the Church underwent the shock of the Reformation. The fourth transition resulted from a direct attack of society on the Church as a whole and on religious life in particular. Admittedly each of these changes in the culture and the Church differed from one another in many respects. However, the pattern seems clear enough at least to permit one to ask whether perhaps another shift in the dominant image of religious life would happen if major changes in society and the Church should come to pass. Although religious communities have been founded in almost every cen-tury of Christian history, it seems that each major shift in the dominant image of religious life is heralded by some significantly new foundations which em-body a new image in an especially striking way. This could be said of the earliest Benedictine monasteries for the first transition, of the Franciscans and Dominicans for the second transition, of the Jesuits for the third transition, and of the plethora of 19th century foundations for the fourth transition. It also seems to be the case that many communities go out of existence at each transition. Those that survive either continue in a diminished form or somehow blend the new dominant image with the charism of their own foun-dation to get another lease on life. The mendicant orders, for example, grew numerically stronger during the Era of Apostolic Orders as they adapted their own special gifts to the new style of religious life. The culture of the high Mid-dle Ages was rapidly and irretrievably passing away, but the mendicants adapted and flourished. One might ask, then, if the Church would witness the death of many religious communities and the foundation of new and different ones if a shift in the dominant image of religious life were to occur. The remainder of this article will explore the plausibility of maintaining that The Recovery of Religious Life / 709 another major transition has in fact begun in the history of religious life. Should this hypothesis be true, it would be appropriate to pose questions about h6w religious life is dying and how a recovery and revitalization might happen. Another observation that suggests itself from this brief survey concerns the continuity that underlies the shifts of the dominant image of religious life. As the image evolves it continues to hold up the impelling ideal of a radical following of the conditions set forth by Christ for an evangelical discipleship embedded in a life of prayer and deep faith. While the contemporary religious would probably not feel called to take on the externals of the life of the Desert Fathers, he or she will surely understand and be drawn to the stark beauty of the life of radical discipleship that moved Anthony to withdraw into the desert. Similar remarks could probably be made about the ultimate aims of the first Franciscans and the first rugged band of Jesuits. Through all the twists and turns in the make up and style of religious life, there is a deep core of seeking union with Christ in a special and total way that endures century after century. A great deal of historical precedent would have to be explained away by anyone who would wish to maintain that religious life is about to disappear as a separate and distinguishable way of life in the Church. The historical pattern seems to be one of repeated recovery. The present moment is indeed a time of trouble for religious communities, but religious life as a whole will doubtlessly survive. Turning to the sociological model, some further generalizations can be made. In the evolution of a religious community the non-rational elements of transforming experience, vision, and myth play a central role. This is es-pecially true during the periods of foundation and revitalization. Although necessary for each period in the life-cycle of a community, the techniques of rationality (long-range planning, leadership training, etc.) will never be suf-ficient to found a religious community or to revitalize one. The renewed vitality that comes to some religious communities during the time of transition finds its source in plumbing the depths of.the mythic and non-rational and in-tegrating them with the more rational dimensions of human life. A central insight of the myth of original sin is that humankind is not capable of sustained development; breakdown and disintegration are ever-recurring manifestations of the human condition. Since religious men and women exist within the human condition, it should not be surprising that, from time to time, all religious communities experience an extensive period of significant breakdown and disintegration. These bleak realities should be em-braced with humble acceptance of th~ human condition and a faith-filled hope that the Lord will in time resurrect life-giving initiatives from the death-dealing processes of breakdown. V. Where Does Religious Life Stand Today? In the previous sections of this article, the history of the religious-life movement in the Church and of particular religious communities was ex-amined to determine the major factors within culture, the Church, and 710 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 religious communities themselves that significantly influence the evolution of this movement. Generalizations from the proposed models indicate that major. transitions are likely to occur in religious life when secular culture is in the midst of a major crisis, and when religious life has experienced a period of major breakdown. The factors can serve as a useful matrix for answering the question, "Where does religious life stand today?" As was mentioned in the in-troduction, the answer proposed in this article is that religious life is undergo-ing a pervasive transition that will last for the next twenty to twenty-five years and which will significantly change the style of life and service of religious communities. The plausibility of this assertion is developed in this section. A. Signs of Transition in Secular Culture Many writers have noted that contemporary culture is in the midst of a societal transition. Some compare the present time to the Renaissance. Others claim that the present multifaceted change is equal to if not greater in magnitude than the agricultural and industrial revolutions. Many strands of societal transition have been pointed out. Spiritual, intellectual, philosophical, psychological, political, economic, and many other crises in society have been described by writers from a wide range of disciplines. For the purposes of this article, a cluster of these difficulties, which might be broadly termed the socio-economic crisis, will be summarized below as a sample of the sort of comment on contemporary society being made today. Catastrophic events and critical trends are continually reported by the news media. These reports range from widespread famine in the Sahel and South Asia to the continued downward spiral of the national economy. Careful analysts and writers have noted that these events and trends are a manifestation of the parallel growth of a set of interrelated critical issues which they have designated as the "world problematique.''7 A list of the critical issues that make up the "world problematique" would include: Energy Problems: Runaway growth in domestic and worldwide use of energy; shortages and scarcity of energy; insufficient capital resources to develop new energy sources. Food Problems: Food supply unable to meet the demand for food; worsening of weather conditions through pollution; increasing food prices due to food scarcity and increasing cost and consumption of energy; deterioration of arable land through increased urbaniza-tion and ecological undermining; actual widespread famine; potential long term problems of hunger and famine. Pollution Problems: Rise of pollution-induced illness; exponential increhse in the pollu-tion of the air and seas; denuding of natural environment through strip mining. 7.Some sources used to examine the "world problematique" were Kenneth E. F. Watt, The Titanic Effect: Planning for the Unthinkable (Stanford, Conn.: Sinauer Associates, Inc.); Donella H. Meadows, et al., The Limits to Growth (Washington: Potomac Associates, 1972); Mihajlo Mesarovic and Eduard Pestel, Mankind at the Turning Point (New York: Reader's Digest Press, 1974); Lester R. Brown, In the Human Interest (New York: W. W. Norton, 1974); and Lester R. Brown with Eric P. Eckholm, By Bread Alone (New York: Praeger, 1974). The Recovery of Religious Life / 711 Economic Problems: Growing world inflation; market saturation (e.g. airplanes, elec-tronic equipment, automobiles); instability and manipulation of monetary system, lack of alternatives to growth economics; increasing gap between the "have's" and the "have not's." Work Problems: Increasing unemployment and underemployment; saturation of the labor market; decreased productivity; increasing alienation and dissatisfaction with work; depersonalization of work environments. Problems of Urban Areas: Deterioration of urban areas; increasing crime rates; in-creasing cost of essential urban services. Problems of International Order." Hazards of international competition and war; com-petitive economic policies. What makes the "world problematique" different from problems en-countered in previous eras is its complexity and the pervasive interrelationship of its elements. Hence, the "world problematique" is not amenable to normal methods of problem solving. Attempts to address such critical issues in a singular or joint fashion introduce fundamental dilemmas that do not appear resolvable within conventional modes of thought. Among such dilemmas which seem to be plaguing the contemporary politico-economic situation, four might be singled out: the dilemmas of growth, guidance, global justice, and social roles.8 These dilemmas are delineated more fully in Table 6. One may ask if these problems and dilemmas have not been present during most of the Industrial Era. Are not the problems of the 20's and 30's very much the same as those of the 70's and 80's? What makes the above mentioned problems and dilemmas different is that they have not been ameliorated through the use of conventional wisdom and standard problem-solving ap-proaches. In fact, one may argue that application of these approaches has led to many unanticipated and undesirable consequences. Resolution of the problems and dilemmas is dependent upon a thorough-going shift in social perceptions, involving restructuring of beliefs, images, and human aspirations at a fundamental level. B. Crisis in the Church and the Breakdown in Religious Life The Catholic Church in America has been profoundly influenced by con-temporary change. For at least fifteen years the Church has been experiencing a transition of its life. The Second Vatican Council (1962-1964) was a result of the early stages of this transition and a triggering event for its later stages. The Church began to open itself to a world which was undergoing a dramatic secularization. This opening up or aggiornamento had significant impact on all dimensions of Church life. Parish life and parochial education are no longer the only shapers of the values and beliefs of American Catholics. The once-clear norms and social roles ~vithin the Church no longer seem to serve their original purpose. For example, the Vatican's official position on birth 8The schematization presented in Table 6 is based on the work of Bill Harmon, Director of the Center for the Study of Social Policy, Stanford Research Institute. 712 / Review for Religious, I~'olume 34, 1975/5 TABLE 6: SOME DILEMMAS OF CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY Growth The fundamental "new scarcity" of fossil fuels, minerals, fresh water, arable land, habitable surface area, waste-absorbing capacity of the natural environment, fresh air, and food come from approaching the finite limits of the earth. These limits demand a radical slow down or leveling off in material.growth and energy-use curves of the past.' Yet, the present economic and political system is built around a growth hypothesis. The economic and political consequences of limiting growth appear unbearable. Guidance Dilemma Ecological considerations along with awesome power of modern technology to change any and all aspects of the human environment establish a mandate for greater guidance of technological and social innovation. Yet, the political price of such guidance is very high. Such guidance is perceived as con-trary to man's fundamental right to freedom and as an inhibition to economic growth. Global Justice Dilemma Further advances by the industrialized nations make the rich nations richer and the poor nations relatively poorer. The impressive ac-complishments of the industrial economy are largely built on a base of cleverness plus cheap energy, the latter from the world's limited stockpile of fossil fuels. Yet, the costs of not redressing these inequities may be serious political and economic world instabilities as well as widespread famine and inhuman suffering in the poorer nations. Social Roles Dilemma Present economic system is failing to provide Yet, the absence of satisfying and personally an adequate number of satisfying social roles meaningful roles for women, youth, the especially for women and minorities. The aged, and minorities along with worker employment market is saturated; there is a dissatisfaction in general results in in-need to keep youth and the aged out of the creased I~ersonal alienation and erodes labor market, the morale of the nation. control is considered unacceptableto an increasingly large number of Catholics. Difficulties are arising in the functioning of such Church structures as the priesthood and the traditional role of the laity and of such Church institutions as parishes, schoo|s, and hospitals. Their once-unquestioned role within the Church no longer seems to satisfy the needs of an increasingly large number of church members. This crisis and transition within the Church has had a dramatic effect on religious communities of women and men. Religious communities have begun to experience all of the signs of entering into the breakdown and disintegration period described earlier in this article. There has been a sharp decline in membership due to increased withdrawals and a decrease in new recruits. Re- The Recovery of Religious Life / 713 cent literature9 gives a statistical picture of this breakdown in the United States. - A recent National Opinion Research Center study indicated there is a larger relative number of resignees among those already established in church careers than in any other equivalent period of time since the French Revolution. - For the years between 1965 and 1972 66% of the yearly decrease in communities of religious women was due to dispensation or termination of vows. In communities of religious women the average annual net increase over these years was approximately 768 members, the average annual net decrease was 3841, with only one-third of that loss caused by deaths. - The total number of Sisters in 1974 had declined 17% from 1960 and 23% since their peak membership year in 1966. - The total number of religious Brothers in 1974 had decreased 12% since 1960 and 26.5% since their peak membership year in 1966. The purposes of religious communities which were once clear and widely understood have become vague and meaningless to some in the midst of the modern church crisis. The structures of authority and process of communica-tion and decision making within religious communities seem no longer to fit the needs of the individuals within the community or suit the evolving work of the communities. The processes of formation to religious community have sometimes become disorganized and seem to lack purpose. These and other signs indicate that the last fifteen to twenty years have been a time when most religious com-munities have begun to experience breakdown. This cluster of the signs of breakdown in virtually all communities seems to indicate that we are ap-proaching the end of another major era in the history of religious life. C. Restatement of the Bias This review of the transitions in secular culture as well as the current crisis of the Church allows us to use the historical and sociological models of the evolution of religious life and religious communities outlined in the previous sections to answer the question "Where does religious life stand today?" In the introduction of this article, an answer was given in what was called the fun-damental bias of the article, namely, that religious life in America is undergo-ing a profound transition, which will take another twenty or twenty-five years to run its full course. The arguments leading up to this bias can be set forth as follows: 1. The dominant image of religious life has undergone several major tran-sitions as religious life has evolved as a movement within the Church. 2. The occurrence of these major transitions is associated with a number 9Carroll W. Trageson and Pat Holden, "Existence and Analysis of the 'Vocation Crisis' in Religious Careers," (pp. 1-3) in Carroll W. Trageson, John P. Koval, and Willis E. Bartlett (eds.), Report on Study of Church Vo

Issue 48.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1989. ; R~:.vn~w voa R~:.t.~c,~ous (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindcll Blvd. Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add U.S. $5.00 per year; for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rl~v~'0,, ~:o~ Rl-:t.~c;ous; P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to Rt:v~t:w roa RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors September/October 1989 Volume 48 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv:vt~w you R~:~.~;~otJs; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rv:\'~v:w voa Rr:~.~;~o~JS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues 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 I0010. PRISMS . We Christians come to know our calling to a certain kind of minis-try in the Church through our fidelity to prayer--a continuing dialogue in our relationship with God. By way of analogy, those in the vocation of married life know that the sacramental celebration of matrimony rep-resents only the start of a new relationship together with God. It will take a married lifetime of dialogue with each other and with God and of so living to make the reality of the sacrament come true. Similarly, those in the vocation of religious life signify in some way (commonly through some kind of vow-taking) that they are professing and aiming at a spe-cial relationship with God with the wholeness of their lives. Again re-ligious are well aware that vow or profession day is only the beginning of the dialoguing and of the living out of this "aimed-at" relationship. In these vocations of married and religious life, the Christian prayer of both the individual and the community (marital or religious) is a neces-sary part of the continuing dialogue which keeps alive and nourishes the particular vocation undertaken by our first responding to God's initia-tive. The call to minister in the name of Christ and officially authorized in the service of the Church also remains grounded in the prayer-dialogue. Ministry, not rooted in prayer, is no ministry at all. Good deeds done may represent admirable humanitarianism which we honor and appreciate, but we do not grace it with the identity of ministry. Min-istry flows from a consciousness of God and God's ways of acting and from a sense of responsibility in acting in the name of Christ's Body, the Church. The pervading consciousness of God and the connatural way of acting as God acts are the fruit of a prayer life, which is consistently fostered "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health." This dialogue pei'meates and empowers our Christian life as well as our ministry whatever it may be. In this issue, we highlight two aspects of this continuing dialogue so necessary for our vocation and for ourmin!stry. The passion or fire in our Christian way of praying is reflected in the articles "The God of the Scriptures: An Invitation to Passionate Prayer" .by Anthony Wieczorek, O. Praem., "Romantic Relations with the Sacred" by Richard J. De- Maria, C.F.C., and "A Joyful Supp!ication for Justice" by A. Paul 641 642 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Dominic, S.J. The passion--meaning self-emptying and often a sense of dying--is also a part of our Christian experience of growth in prayer; the articles "Negative Floating" by Barbara Dent and "Spiritual Dryness: Some Practical Guidelines" by Eamon Tobin give some insight into these always difficult moments. Three articles, viewing various aspects of our religious life vocation, are written within the specific prayer context of our lives. "Religious Formation: A Contemplative Realignment" by Jane Ferdon, O.P., con-siders the formation task. "Discernment and Elections in Religious In-stitutes" by Marcello De Carvalho Azevedo, S.J., focuses the very spe-cial moments of leadership choice and policy-making in religious in-stitutes. Finally, "Rituals of Death, Denial, and Refounding" by Ger-ald A. Arbuckle, S.M., reflects on the importance of religious celebrat-ing in a truly Christian manner the dying and death moments in their con-gregational life if revitalization or refounding is to occur today. In the northern hemisphere, the summer months are coming, to an end, with the traditional vacation time behind us for another year. We move on to another "work" year and whatever our ministry may be. With the help of God's grace, .we find ourselves at an opportune time to assess again how our lives, our ministries, and our prayer truly form one healthy and supportive ecological system. May our various authors in this issue contribute to our insight and give us perspective in our quest. David L. Fleming, S.J. The God of the Scriptures: An Invitation to Passionate Prayer Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem. Father Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem., is currently chaplain of the Sign of God Deaf Ministry office which serves the Deaf and Hearing Impaired community of the Green Bay diocese. He also directs the Theological Institute, a summer program at St. Norbert College in De Pere, Wisconsin. He continues to write a weekly article for the local diocesan newspaper. His address is St. Norbert Abbey; De Pere, Wiscon-sin 54115-2697. We all have them. Most of us have learned to control, even ignore them. But for some, they appear unasked for and when they do they are toler-ated with all the patience we have for a head cold. They are our emo-tions, our deep seated emotions, the dark and passionate side of our hu-man nature. We enjoy them when, at sports activities, we give ourselves permis-sion to act outraged or triumphant and they suit our moods. We like it when they sneak out quietly in the form of tears at the end of a touching movie. They may also try to make their presence known during prayer, but here they are often considered most distracting and least desired. And yet, if there is a time for emotion, if there is a time for passion at all, it is during prayer. Prayer is a naturally revealing activity. Ii is natural that passionate emotions should arise within us during.prayer. They are conduits to the parts of ourselves God wishes most to go. It is little wonder we should find them straining to emerge. Could it be that they are even called forth by a God eager to touch this part of ourselves so seldom shared? Unfortunately, they are the parts of ourselves we least of all like. Most often, they are corridors to the side of ourgelves we fear. They lead 643 60,4 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 into the cauldron of emotion we have not yet learned to control. We may not be really sure what lurks there but we are fairly confident that God has no part of it, that it is best shielded from God,-that what surges there is best atoned for in secret, not something to be proud of and shared openly with God. But are passionate emotions like anger and jealousy and lust called forth during times of prayer so that we can "confess" to them? Or are they summoned at God's own invitation? Can it be, might it be, that God can desire a passionate prayer as well and as much as a prayer that is con-templative, tranquil, and serene? Might it be that the God who appears ¯ throughout the pages of the Bible speaks to us best and can identify with us most through the part of ourselves we keep most hidden? The God of the Scriptures is indeed a passionate God. This article is an exploration of that theme and of the constructive relationship that exists between passion and prayer. The Passionate Nature of God Pascal was right when he said that there seemed to be two Gods: the God discussed by philosophers and the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of the Scriptures. Most people prefer the philosophers' God. That Being is reasonable, controlled, logical. The God of the phi-losophers thinks, plans, orders, foresees. There is, of course, a "feel-ing" side to this God too. God does, after all, feel compassion and love for creation. But those "feelings" are held well in check and are dis-pensed cooly and properly. This God seems to resemble a fine Victorian gentleman/scholar. And, very often, especially here in the Western world, that is the image we would like to have of ourselves. That is the standard and goal we set for ourselves. The point is not that this image of God is false. But is it all there is? Is it only one side of a much more complex personality? Do we, with a too exclusively philosophical model of God, lose some of God's mys-tery because we fail to pay proper attention to God's emotion and pas-sionate nature? Perhaps such a theology is no more complete than an anthropology that deliberately ignores the emotional and passionate side of human be-ing? The point of human growth is to integrate and harmonize the parts of our nature i'nto one. To ignore our emotions is to ignore half of our selves. In addition to being rational, thinking creatures, human beings also love, feel anger, jealousy, crave revenge, desire, and feel pity. We are indeed complex beings. Can we dare imagine a God who is any less? Moreover, if we are so thoroughly emotional and if we were made in The God of the Scriptures / 6t15 God's own image and likeness, what can we conclude about God? Scripture tells us that "God is love." Love is, to be sure, more than an intellectual attitude or disposition toward life. Love is an emotion. Peo-ple in love are known sometimes to do strange things, spontaneous things, unpredictable things. Or so they seem to us. But to them, fol-lowing the "logic of love," their actions have a rationality, a purpose, an order. Finding it, though, and seeing the reasoning behind such ac-tions can be almost as hard as finding the sense and reason behind some of God's actions in our lives. God is not illogical nor is God emotion-ally unstable. God is simply love. God is simply in love with us "and with ¯ all of creation. God is a Being of great and passionate emotion. That, at least, is what the Scriptures tell us. Perhaps, to beg the question a bit, that is why God chose the Jews in the first place as recorders of divine revelation. The Jews, and all Near Eastern people for that matter, were extremely emotional and passionate people. Check the papers--they still are. But if you were God, would you have chosen them to write the record of your revelation? Many people would probably have preferred the Greeks. Their philo-sophical bent would more likely have appealed to us. And indeed, they would probably have done an admirable job at revealing God's mind. But could they have matched the Jewish brilliance for revealing God's heart? The Jewish passion for life was a most fitting medium for the man-ner of God's message. For the Scriptures reveal in emotional and pas-sionate imagery and terms the heart as well as the mind of God. Maybe, we argue, the Jewish people were simply transferring their own emotional nature onto God and that God no more has passionate feel-ings than God has legs withwhich to walk around in the garden of Eden. Yet, even though they were not meant to be read literally, all the images and words do reveal and communicate something about God. To glean this, though, the Scriptures must be read with an open mind and heart. God's Emotional Involvement in Life What do the Scriptures tell us about God? The Bible reveals a God who is very much alive and near. The biblical God does not observe the glories and follies of creation from afar. This is not a God who aloofly administri~tes creation and human history. Rather, this is a God who min-isters, to it and within it. The God of the Bible is pastorally involved in human life. We know that because the Scriptures reveal a God who is emotionally involved in human life. There are levels and degrees of involvement in community, in fam-ily, in politics, in everything regarding life. One criterion for measuring 646 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 or determining the depth of involvement is the amount of emotional in-vestment shown. In community living, for example, it is easy enough to state one's involvement in community affairs. One may even show up at community meetings and functions. But does that person's words and presence communicate an active involvement or a benign disinterest? Does body language alone, for instance, tell the others present that, "I am here to observe. Really, I couldn't care less what happens. It is some-what interesting, even humorous though. Just continue and pretend I'm not here." No words may communicate that. But the message is made, communicated through posture, through sleepy eyes and flacid facial e~- pression. On the other hand is the person very much involved in the pro-ceedings. Like the other, thi~ person says not a word. Yet through all the same means the message communicated is much different. This per-son exhibits interest through a tense body, through a face that while si-lent is red with anger or aglow with satisfaction. The eyes hold an inter-est, the palms sweat, a leg fidgets nervously. This person is truly and pastorally present and alive. Why? Because the person is visibly emo-tionally involved. And that is what we want from each other and from God. Similarly, why do we become upset with the "professional" pastor who runs the office well and administrates the parish efficiently but who cannot feel his people's pain, who cannot rejoice at someone's birth or mourn at another's death? Why do we feel cheated? Why does the per-son seem pastorally out of touch and somehow less a priest than the pas-tor who is able and willing to be emotionally present to the people? Why does the emotionally uninvested pastor seem to communicate less God's presence? Why do we feel disappointed? For what reason do we feel we should be able to expect and receive more? All of this speaks to an image or a set of expectations we have about God. Because God cares, God's ministers should also care. Because God is able to and does feel with the people, so should God's priests and pas-toral workers. We want and need to feel God present in our lives and feel cheated by those who serve in God's name if somehow we cannot sense from them a deeper presence of God than the merely physical. We want and feel a right to expect an emotional presence and involvement. We want our pastoral workers to be passionately present and active. We want and expect that because we feel God is passionately present and ac-tive. But why? Does that expectation and feeling originate within us alone? Or is that the image Of God that is mysteriously and boldly com- The God of the Scriptures /647 municated through almost every page of the Bible? Indeed, God is most emotionally present and involved in the lives of the Jewish people. That is true from exodus to exile, from restoration through resurrection. God communicates through the Scriptures a presence and involvement that is intensely passionate. The Passionate God of the Prophets Nowhere is this more evident than in the writings of the prophets. Within the prophetic books we see a picture of a God at wits' end. The people had rebelled from God's love and were running headlong toward destruction. We hear a response from God that is the emotional equal of what is politically, socially, and spiritually at stake. Read with the emotion befitting the texts Amos 8:4-8 or 4:!-3 or Hosea'l !:1-11 or Jeremiah 7:i-20 or Isaiah 54:78 or any of the other prophets, and you find the words of a person on the edge, the words of a person who is not at all detached or even mildly interested. In those words and so many others we receive a message of a God filled with pas-sion for the welfare of his people, a God who is truly emotionally in-volved in the life, past and future, of his people. If there is anger in God's words, it is the anger of a parent or lover, the passion of someone who cares tremendously about another. It is an anger born of frustration and love. Who has been in love without feel-ing anger? Love is a powerful emotion that opens us up to other equally powerful feelings. And what of the energy invested in both love and an-ger? Passion has a high price in emotional energy that is paid only by those truly sincere about what they feel. The quality and quantity of God's emotion so naked and strong throughout the prophets is testimony to the sincerity of God's passionate love. Moreover, it is a passion and sincerity that God expects in return. Love that is deep and intense expects a return in kind. One of our ways of showing love is through our prayer, both private and liturgical. Note, then, in Isaiah I:11-16 and Amos 5:21-25 and Jeremiah 7:21-28, the re-action of God to worship that is liturgically correct but void of sincerity and feeling. God expects a worship from the heart, a worship that is a reflection of our love. To be proper and true to the rubrics is not enough, not even the most important thing. What God seeks is what God gives, a prayer that is emotionally sincere. What God "hates" and "detests," what is "loathsome" to God is prayer empty of affect. That does not mean that worship must be a wild and ecstatic affair. However, it must be sincere; it must reveal an authentic human warmth. Worship, prayer, is more than so many words or lack of them. We can 648 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 meditate quite correctly and all without opening our hearts in love. A prayer that is emotionally fl~t.and cold is the sacrifice displeasing to God. Perhaps that is why Paul tells.us that because "we-do, not know how to pray as we ought, the Spirit makes intercession f~or us with groanings that cannot be-expressed in speech" (Rm 8:26). That is an invitation to pray our feelings, to pray from and with our emotions. That is what God asks for and longs to share, for it is that which is most truly in our hearts. The Spirit helps us to raise what we are feeling in prayer, even if it can be expressed in no other way than by a groan. Since we are to live as we pray, God expects from us a life that is emotionally honest and open. How often we repress our feelings and hold in check our passion. We refuse to allow ourselves to feel and that pre-vents us from being as effective and compassionate as Jesus was and calls us to be. The "cry of the poor" is too painful to hear so we learn to close to the poor not only our ears but also our hearts. We dull our abil-ity and willingness to feel and so lose a major motivating force behind Christian action. Pity is not the issue here, rather compassion and jus-tice. Perhaps it was because Jesus was a man of such strong emotions that he was as compassionate and sensitive as the Scriptures say. Yet not only did Jesus have strong feelings, he was willing to live with them and feel them. Because he did not repress what he felt but lived what he felt he could be moved enough to touch and heal the leper (Mk 1:41) and raise the widow's son (Lk 7:11-17). If Jesus was the troublemaker and law-breaker the Pharisees claimed, it was because he allowed his emotions to so move his charity and inspire his faith that he saw not simply the law but the people the law did not and could not serve. God's Call for a Passionate Faith Jesus' emotion is most manifest in his faith. Many people were raised to believe that faith is something we do with our minds, that faith is an intellectual act of agreement or obedience to a tradition or set of beliefs. While it may be that, it is not only that. This is clear from the way Jesus lived and how he believed. For Jesus, faith was an emotion that gripped not only his mind, but his heart and body as well. Oftentimes one emotion is held in check by another. A boy, for in-stance, may want to introduce himself to a girl. The "love" he feels for her is held in check, though, by his "fear" of being rejected. He de-cides to say nothing. Fear has overruled his young love. Similarly, a per-son may feel inclined to speak out on a justice issue. That person too feels fear. But this time the person's convictions on the matter, the per- The God of the Scriptures / 649 son's belief, is the stronger of the two and bids the person to speak out. Here faith overruled fear. All of us know what fear is, all of us have felt it. Reflect for a mo-ment what happens when you feel fear. The mind freezes, it becomes difficult or even impossible to think. The entire body is also affected. Knees shake, palms sweat, the mouth runs dry. If the fear is sharp enough we may even close our eyes and prefer to block out the cause of our fear. Fear, to be sure, is a powerful emotion. It would require, then, an equally powerful emotion to counter it. Only two emotions give us the courage to overcome fear: love and faith--although the two are intimately related. A mother stands terrified at the sight of her burning home when she hears the cry of her child from within. Her fear of the flames and smoke cause her to stand for a mo-ment paralyzed until love for her child overpowers the fear and forces her in to rescue him. Jeremiah the prophet stands equally terrified be-fore the people gathered at the Temple. He too, however, hears--or rather feels--an inner voice, the call of God bidding him to speak in God's name. For a moment his fear prevails before the faith within his heart overwhelms it and causes him to cry out. . How many of us have had our faith compromised by fear? By clos-ing ourselves to our feelings, by repressing our emotions, we have been eliminating a source of strength that could well empower our faith to ri-val that of tl~e prophets. If our faith is solely intellectual it is but half, at best, of what it could be. Faith is authentic when it flows from our hearts, when it flows from our love for God. Jeremiah, for example, and Jesus after him, may have seemed like people without faith because they spoke against the traditions and cus-toms of the people. They could rightly be asked, "Have you no faith, Jeremiah, in the Temple and the promise God made to dwell in it always? Why is it so hard for you to have faith in what our traditions teach.? Why can't you agree with them?" Faith in this sense is an act of the intellect. But for Jeremiah, for the other prophets, and for Jesus, faith was an act of love; its motive force was an intuition of God's abiding presence within. They felt God's love and returned it as they could (that is, they believed) and it was that faith in God's love that enabled them to stand up and say what their hearts could not deny. The love they felt empowered them, gave their faith the spirit of cour-age. All of us are given the gift of that love. All of us have within our-selves the courage to truly use our faith. But so often in closing ourselves to our emotions, in denying them, we deny ourselves the grace, the love, Review for Religious, September-October 1989 that gives us the courage to truly believe. Jesus and the prophets before him were not ashamed of their emotions. Indeed, they prayed with them (Jeremiah's lamentations, for example) by bringing them before God in-stead of hiding them in the dark recesses of their spirits. By so doing, they provide an example for all us of authentic living and prayer. Praying with our Emotions Oddly enough, it is the emotion of fear that most inhibits us from bringing our.other emotions to prayer. As mentioned earlier, prayer is a naturally revealing activity. In prayer, the love and union we share with God is revealed and made known to us. We may receive the revelation of truths and intuitions about questions and problems we may have, as well as insights into God and ourselves. It is this that often scares us into emotional and spiritual repression. In the quiet, centering communion of prayer with God, we forget to maintain many of the blocks and barriers we place between our conscious selves and our more disquieting emotions. Suddenly and quite unexpect-edly we can find the composure of our prayer compromised by unwel-comed feelings. The person whose thoughts continue to center upon feel-ings of passion for a lover, the religious whose heart is suddenly filled with anger and resentment toward a superior, the person who becomes aware of his or her jealousy and envy--all of these people find the re-warding calm of prayer ruined by the onslaught of emotions. In each of these cases, whether or not prayer has been ruined de-pends upon whose agenda is being followed. Prayer is a dialogue. How-ever, especially with meditation, prayer can become a monologue of si-lence. Our meditation can be but another way of saying, "Listen God, there are just some things I'd sooner not think about. Why don't we just sit here quietly and ignore them together." Our prayer agenda calls for some peace and quiet, a bit of reprieve, a break in the action of confron-tation. Yet we find ourselves continually pestered by thoughts and feel-ings we've decided not to share. Might it be, however, that their contin-ual interruption is an effort on God's part to make it part of our prayer? Might God have an agenda too? And might that agenda include the very feelings we are so desperate to ignore? It might do well, then, since prayer is a dialogue, to "ask" God about what should be shared. One way of doing so is by beginning our prayer with a bit of soul searching journaling. We might record what and how we are feeling, any significant encounters we have had with peo-ple, good and bad. The point is not to dwell on any of them. Rather we acknowledge what is already inside of us. We acknowledge it to God and The God of the Scriptures / 651 to ourselves. Then, having done that, we set it aside and open ourselves to God. Yet, the very action of having been honest with ourselves about what we arefeeling has already opened the doors to our deepest selves to God. We have laid everything bare and have effectively told God, "Well, now that you know, what do you say?" Then if our prayer is quiet, perhaps God is saying, "Let it rest for now," and so we should. If, however, we find the emotions returning, perhaps we should pay them some prayerful attention. It is one matter to continually harp on a feeling and another tO at-tend to one that finds its way to the surface. Yet it is here that fear can overcome all else and totally inhibit our communion with God, not to mention any communion with ourselves. We are afraid of what may come if we allow our emotions to flow. We are afraid of what God may think if we stood before God with emotions bare. Perhaps most of all, we are afraid of what we would have to admit about ourselves if we al-lowed our spiritual vision to focus upon our feelings. Especially in times of stress, when we need prayer most, we are most reluctant, most afraid to pray because the emotions we so fear are so close to surface, so hard to dispel. In such cases the fear and shame we so strongly feel should be the opening movement of our prayer. But here is the test. Have we the faith to share what we fear? Here we become the shy person struggling to talk to a friend. Here we become the mother rooted in fear or stirred by love into action. Here we find the revelation, not of God but of ourselves, that prayer so powerfully conveys. Here we find a truth about ourselves. Prayer is a dialogue. Has God been speaking, shouting through hands pressed tight against our ears, trying to get through? Summary We can repress our prayer and weaken our faith because we are un-willing to face the passion of our own emotions. Why? Is it God's rejec-tion or wrath that we fear or is it facing the truth about ourselves? Some people are simply ashamed that they are emotional people at all. Some-where many of us have learned that we should be rational at the expense of being emotional. Emotions are something to master, signs of weak-ness, occasions for sin. To be holy is to be emotionally controlled. Pei-haps. To be sure, some emotions need to be held in check. Some need to be confessed. But not all. Our emotions are occasions for grace, provided we let our God work through them. They can be conduits leading to deeper prayer. They can be the means for facing and overcoming our fear of living. For indeed, 652 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 without emotions we are less than human. We were made in the image and likeness of a living, feeling God who is revealed in the pages of Scrip-ture as a truly passionate lover, a God who, for example, is quite honest about being "jealous." We were made to have feelings and to use our emotions to feel and act alive. If Jesus was not ashamed of the force of his emotions, why should we? As Christians we are called to become fully alive. That means learn-ing to live with and harness our emotions. Truly, our emotions are gifts from God, gifts to be enjoyed, gifts for which we can be grateful. But before any of that can happen, our emotions must first be accepted. The Dancer Is falling in love with you autumn leaves swirling in the wind, fish swimming in the flooded ,,;hallows after a heavy rainfall? Is this love a meditative symphony, where the listener is impelled to pause, be attentive to the secret voice talking with his heart? Is this love a walk without fear into the forest of Solitude, where I go to plant my tree of hope? Is this love an ancient la Jota, sometimes graceful and slow, at other moments fast and exciting? How do I overcome my reluctance? Become like David, who danced before the Lord because it was pleasing to him? Brother Richard Heatley, F.S.C. De La Salle Centre 45 Oaklands Avenue Toronoto, Ontario M4V 2E4, Canada Romantic Relations with the Sacred Richard J. DeMaria, C.F.C. Brother Richard DeMaria, C.F.C., currently serves as Executive Vice President and the Vice President for Academic Affairs at lona College. His address is lona Col-lege; New Rochelle, New York 10801. In the recent, surprisingly successful film, Th~rOse, based on the life of St. Th6r~se of Lisieux, there is a scene that has remained with me for months. Th6r~se's sister visits her during what was to be a terminal ill-ness, and noticing that Th6r~se has pinned a small crucifix to her pil-low, observes: "So you two are back together again." To which, as I recall it, Th6r~se blushes and nods in agreement. The audience--a New York City audience--to my amazement did not laugh here or at any time during a movie which portrayed Th6r~se as a woman engaged in a ro-mantic relationship with Jesus, a relationship characterized by falling outs, jealousies, reunions, disagreements, and coquetry. And by love. And by passion. The film places Th6r~se in a very old tradition of spirituality, a tra-dition which uses the language and ways of romantic love to describe a person's interaction with the sacred. The romantic poem "The Song of Songs" comes immediately to mind: the longing of a bride for her bride-groom is used as an image of the human experience with the sacred. Ap-parently that image was found sufficiently apt among the Hebrew peo-ple for the poem to be included and preserved in its canon of sacred litera-ture. We find in other religions similar spiritualities linking sexual im-agery and prayer, the link sometimes explicitly recognized and cele-brated, at other times, we assume, camouflaged and unrecognized but fairly apparent to those who read between lines. As R. Zaehner, the Oxford authority on mysticism, observes: 653 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 There is no point at all blinking at the fact that the raptures of the theis-tic mystic are closely akin to the transports of sexual union, the soul play-ing the part of the female and (~od appearing as the male. ~ In the history of religion, one finds many spiritualities that approach life as if there were two lovers involved. In Hinduism, one finds among the different paths by which one can yoke himself or herself to God, the path of bhakti in which one takes on the Lord as lover. Kabir, the fif-teenth- century Indian mystic, as translated by Bly, uses the term "the Guest" to name the inner lover: My body and my mind are in depression because you are not with me. How much I love you and want you in. my house! When 1 hear people describe me as your bride I look sideways ashamed, Because I know that far inside us we have never met. Then what is this love of mine? I don't really care about food, I don't really care about sleep, I am restless indoors and outdoors. The bride wants her lover as much as a thirsty man wants water. And how will I find someone who will take a message to the Guest from me? How restless Kabir is all the time! How much he wants to see the Guest!z The existence of a relationship between mysticism and sexuality is clear and widespread in the historical record. The question is: how shall we interpret and understand the presence of romaritic and sexual lan-guage in religious writing? More to the point are the following questions: Is it possible to carry on a love relationship with an invisible, non-human lover? Does this spirituality find any basis in the way things are? Is there someone there to love? Is this use of romantic language healthy? Unless we at least advert to these questions from the outset, they stand as obstacles to our ability to approach this tradition with openness. There are many analysts who interpret experiences of romantic spiri-tuality as situations in which sexual energy, having been denied its usual outlet, finds a (distorted) outlet in the religious arena. Accordingly, mys-ticism is in reality sexual energy that is misdirected. Although this sub-limation is usually unrecognized by the person involved, its true nature can be readily recognized by the perceptive observer. In sum, people in-volved in religious romanticism are victims of misplaced energy; their lives are based upon an unreal perception of the way things are. Other analysts suggest that the situation is quite the opposite: a ba-sic drive, a basic need within humans, is for union with the transcendent. Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 655 According to this theory, the mystic is a person who is responding quite directly to this basic drive. Other humans respond to this drive by en-gaging themselves in sexual, romantic relationships with other humans. This is a valid way of fulfilling this need. The power of human, inter-personal sexuality, and the way that relationship is experienced and de-scribed, derive from the more basic desire of the human to interact with the sacred. Because the inter-human sexual experience is one form of the more general mystical experience, it should not surprise us that the lan-guage of human love and the language of mystical 10ve are quite simi-lar. Alan W. Watts, in Myth and Ritual in Christianity makes the fol-lowing observation: But a sexually self-conscious culture such as our own must beware of its natural tendency to see religion as a symbolizing of sex, for to sexu-ally uncomplicated people it has always been obvious that sex is a sym-bol of religion. That is to say, the ecstatic self-abandonment of nuptial love is the average man's nearest approach to the selfless state of mys-tical and metaphysical experience. For this reason the act of love is the easiest and most readily intelligible illustration of what it is like to be in "union with God," to live the eternal life, free from self and time.3 Perhaps it will never be possible to prove convincingly which of these two theories is true. Some look to an epistemology which concen-trates its attention not on questions about the way things are but rather on questions about what ways work. Such an approach considers a the-ory to be true, or a path to be true, when it works. Pragmatic approaches to understanding our lives can reflect a careless and shallow attitude about truth, but not necessarily so. The form of pragmatism discussed here, recognizing the complexity of the human psyche and the mystery of the sacred, and recognizing the inability of the human mind to under-stand these with any clarity, reasons that if a particular construct or the-ory works, it works because it approximates the way things are. This is an epistemology often used in the physical sciences. Consider, for ex-ample, the solar system model of the atom. No one has seen an atom. Serious scientists do not think that the atom is composed of electrons, circling a nucleus of neutrons and protons, like a solar system. Scien-tists, however, have used the construct of a solar system when thinking about the atom, because when they have followed out the implications of that model, they have been able to explain many past experiences (ex-periments). And, even more importantly, when they devised new experi-ments and applications suggested by the model, these led to important new discoveries. Science has done well, then, to think of the atom as if 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 it were a solar system. Even if the atom is not a solar system, the solar system picture predicts how the atom will work. And it is not unreason-able to conclude from this that in many ways the solar system model ap-proximates the reality of the atom. In sum, while recognizing that a con-struct is an imagined picture, a person follows it because she believes that it will lead her close to the way things are. Against the background of this epistemology, we can now turn our attention to those paths in which a person is involved in a relationship with a person who is not physically present but who is perceived to be real, important, and worthy of ~ittention; a relationship which according to the person herself and according to observers, gives direction and strength. Whether the other is perceived as guru, teacher, patron, guide, angel, patron saint, or--as in the particular spirituality we are discuss-ing-- as the romantically loved one, the relationship has a real effect upon the growth and behavior of the participant. In his play Big Shot, Jack Gelber portrays the positive, powerful influence which two "imagi-nary" persons--a wise, aged prophetic man, and a seductive woman-- have upon a young man's ability to make decisions about his life and to move toward maturity. (Interestingly, these two visitors never appear to-gether in the boy's thoughts; the appearance of one signals the exit of the other. At the play's end, however, they interact with one another and exit together, perhaps symbolizing something of an integration of the re-ligious and the sexual in his consciousness.) According to what was said above, one should evaluate the tradition of romantic spirituality by asking: What happens to persons when they act as if there were an inner sacred person there? Does it lead to desir-able ends? In this approach one judges a religious path worth consider-ing if it has "worked" for many people, in many religions, in many dif-ferent ages. What is meant by "worked"? The validity of this or any path is established by its ability to lead practitioners into that special con-sciousness which is called "religious." In the Christian faith, people in that consciousness are said to be in the state of sanctifying grace and ex-hibit characteristics such as love, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Ga 5:22). History attests that the path of devotion, of romantic love, is a path that has led many to that consciousness; the way works. The seeker of God who utilizes the con-struct of romantic love does not need to know for certain whether there is a real person with whom she can interact in love. She does know that when she acts as if there were such a person, wonderful things do hap-pen. In Bhakti Yoga, the author writes: Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 657 All our attitudes, moral or emotional, as well as religious are due to the objects of our consciousness: the things which we believe to exist whether really or ideally along with ourselves. Such objects may be pre-sent to our senses or they may be present to our thought; in either case they elicit from us a reaction and the reaction due to things of thought is notoriously in many cases as strong as that due to sensible presences. It may even be stronger . 4 How does one follow this path? By undertaking the same practices which a man or woman utilizes in establishing a love relationship with a human being. By conversing. By sharing feelings. By trying to please. By actions of union. By admiration. By efforts to merge into one an-other. By writing poems of love. By singing songs of love. By making sacrifices. By exchanging gifts. By establishing rituals, special places, and special times. By secrets shared. By anger expressed. And by hurts told. By arguing. By compromising. How does one advise or counsel a person on this path? As one would advise or counsel a person struggling with any experience of love. The spiritual director will help him to recognize the stages of love. The di-rector will lead her to expect periods of doubt, of loneliness, of seeming neglect, of loss of attraction--the dark nights of the soul. He must be assisted in learning the art of conversation, and especially the art of lis-tening. (For let there be no doubt about it: the person does experience conversation, responses and answers that surprise by their unexpected-ness. Where do these answers come from? Suffice it to say that when questions are asked of this inner lover, this inner guest,' one "hears" answers.) The director will need to counsel the practitioner about the im-portance of fidelity, to help recall the good times in moments of dark-ness, and to point her to better times ahead. The person engaged in this path does experience another actor in his life. Outside observers may wish to interpret this experience as the ef-fects of the "alter ego," or the "subconscious," or the "repressed self." These interpretations should not be allowed to discourage the lover, if forhim the experience of this other is real, and if the effects of carrying out a relationship of love with that "person" are beneficial and if they are leading her into grace. This path does not work for everyone. In New Wineskins,5 Sandra Schneiders observes that in earlier times it was assumed that all women entering into the religious life would find in this romantic spirituality a comfortable and effective path. Women religious, on their day of pro-fession, came to the altar dressed as brides, as the choir sang "Veni Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Sponsa Christi," in a ceremony that was designed to imitate in many ways that of a marriage. Schneiders suggests that in fact many Sisters did not find this path to be effective for them. For many, it was a kind of play.acting, which in later years---especially if they were influenced by Freudian thinking--they came to regard as a childish effort to subli-mate energies better redirected in other ways. Today, almost all traces of this bridal spirituality have been removed from the rituals and from the language of contemporary religious women. Women who have en-tered religious life in recent years may not even be aware of this spiritu-ality. By way of conclusion, two questions about this path of spirituality suggest themselves. First, in this relationship, does the soul always take the role of the feminine to the masculine God, a role in which the hu-man seeks to be filled, empowered, or taken over by the other? The male poet, Kabir, cited before, who wrote in a culture which knew of both male and female gods, always--at least in translation--describes him-self as feminine in relationship to the sacred. Listen to the following poem: I played for ten years with the girls of my own age, but now I am sud-denly in fehr. I am on the way up some stairs--they are high. Yet I have to give up my fears if I want to take part in this love. I have to let go of the protective clothes and meet him with the whole length of my body. My eyes will have to be the love candles this time. Kabir says: Men and women in love will understand this poem. If what you feel for the holy one is not desire, then what's the use of dressing with such care, and spending so much time making your eyelids dark.6 Can one approach the sacred as masculine? Or must one utilize the feminine side (the anima) in one's relationship with the sacred (assum-ing of course that every person, regardless of gender, is both animus and anima)? And if this is true, will this path of spirituality come more natu-rally to women than to men? Or, again if it is true, would the fact that a person has a gay or lesbian orientation affect the attractiveness and ef-fectiveness of this spirituality? A second questign.: what (if any) is the connection between this spousal spirituality and celibacy? Clearly, spousal spirituality does ap-peal and does work for non-celibates as well as celibates. Does celibacy enable one to pursue this path more quickly or more deeply? Does the fact that one is not pursuing the path of romantic human love dispose one Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 659 toward this path more urgently? Or, to take the quite opposite position, would familiarity and experience with human romantic love give one the lexicon and the understandings that enable one to move more quickly into this more interior love? To conclude: the spiritual path of romantic relationships with the sa-cred has been neglected in recent years, perhaps because twentieth-century psychology has called into question so many of the foundations upon which it was based. There is, however, a way of understanding our ways of knowing, consonant with contemporary science, which gives 'permission' to those so attracted to follow this path, to see whether it leads them into grace. While the path will not attract, nor work for, eve-ryone, a knowledge of its history and dynamics should be made avail-able to those who are searching for ways into the world of the sacred. NOTES ~ R.C. Zaehner, Mysticism, Sacred and Profane, (New York, 1961), p. 151. 2 Robert Bly, trans., The Kabir Book, (Boston, 1977), p. 20. 3 Alan W. Watts, Myth and Ritual in Christianity, (Boston, 1968), p. 104. 4 "Bhikshu," Bhakti Yoga, (Chicago, 1930), p. 19. 5 Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins, Re-imagining Religious Life Today, (New York, !986), p. 116. 6 Bly, p. 42. Negative Floating Barbara Dent Barbara Dent, mother and grandmother, has been for eigthteen years a Secular Carme-lite. She published "The Floating Prayer" in our issue of March/April 1988. The current article is a part of a book-in-process called Floating in Endless Love. She may be addressed at Poustinia; 7A Cromwell Place; Pukekohe, New Zealand. In this article I use the word "floating" to indicate the kind of detach-ment and freedom that is attained once we have ascended a certain dis-tance up the nada path. When I write of "floating in endless love," 1 mean the traditional self-abandonment to divine providence as exemplified by holy people of any age, and written about by such recognized saints as Teresa, John of the Cross, Francis de Sales, Jane Frances de Chantal, Caussade, Th~r~se. Our Lady is, of course, the supreme exemplar, and her "Be it done unto me according to your word," a succinct summary of the doc-trine. Divine providence is God's endless love. It had no beginning and will never have an end. It is conterminous with his Being and expresses itself throughout his creation. When he made us in his own image, he gave us the ability to be ef-fortlessly immersed in this love, borne along in the currents and eddies of its movement in time and space, as it ordained and controlled the cir-cumstances of our lives, and we rejoiced in its faultless wisdom and ten-derness. At that beginning-time we had our Creator's discerning Spirit within us, and joyfully cooperated with the process of floating in the divine will, for through it the perfection of his love for us expressed itself, and we were fully open and receptive to it. We were in the state of innocence, which means single-mindedness and wholeness of heart. 660 Negative Floating / 66"1 Then came the "aboriginal catastrophe"--in one, or many, of a num-ber of possible forms. Its basic effect was to confuse, divide, and mis-lead us about the nature of our relationship with our Master. We were, and are, no longer in that original state of love-union's positive, effort-less floating. Instead, we are too often thrashing about in protest at being in the water at all. We persist in struggling to reach some imaginary shore, strik-ing out against the current, gulping water, feeling terrified that we are drowning, pushing away Love's hand held out to draw us to safety, and generally being at odds with our spiritual environment. Our innocence lost, we have become acquainted with sin--actual or potential, deliberate or involuntary. Floating in endless love does not any longer seem to be the obvious, healthy, joyous thing for us to do. We have lost the art, and have to be taught all over again by grace. And because we no longer learn the mys-teries of God effortlessly through direct infusion, the Spirit's modes of teaching us often register on us as nay-saying, destructive, painful, and incomprehensible. This is because God's endless love flowing into us is constantly encountering obstacles of self-love and self-will within us. These cause the flow to be interrupted, dammed up, diverted, and im-peded in numberless ways. We now have to re-learn what we were fashioned to know without even thinking about it. This learning is painful and arduous, and regis-ters on us as a state of negative floating. It entails erasure of all those obstacles against floating--whether personally manufactured, handed on to us by our families and social milieu, or inherited and buried so deeply in our mysterious inner being that we shall never even catch sight of them, let alone drag them up and free ourselves from them, unless the Spirit helps us in a very special way. We are weighted down so that we are more likely to sink to the ocean bed than to float in delight in the surface currents of God's purpose, rev-elling in their effortless, exact progress towards our ultimate fulfillment in him. Positive and negative floating are part of the normal cycle of conso-lation and desolation in the spiritual life. If we persevere in floating in God's loving purpose for us, there comes a time when, just as his crea- ¯ tive energy evolved birds out of fish, he somehow dispenses altogether with the metaphorical liquid element in order to lift us up so high in the Spirit that we are suspended in midair. We usually think of such suspension as bodily levitation and miracu- 662 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 IOUS. But the essence of free-floating in the atmosphere, metaphorically speaking, is entirely spiritual and interior, a flight of the spirit that usu-ally has no physical, exterior signs at all. It is the result of an opening up to God's love that on our part includes the complete abandonment of our whole selves to his usage, and on his part such lavish infusion of his grace that its energy elevates us temporarily into his own Being. This is the ultimate in positive floating. It mysteriously and paradoxi-cally also includes the ultimate in negative floating, for in order to give ourselves up to it, we need to have renounced all the not-God elements so that there is now nothing at all in us or our lives opposing his desire to take full possession of us. God is non-corporeal. When this moment of total possession takes place, he draws up our non-corporeal spirit to merge with his own. This merging, can be accomplished in both, or either, of the positive and nega-tive floating states. After about six months of intensely positive floating immediately af-ter my reception into the Church in 1956, I was gradually translated into the negative floating state and remained there without any remission for nearly twelve years. During my conversion year, 1955, I had already learnt to enter Christ's passion with him by uniting my personal suffering with his in Gethsemane and throughout the various aspects of his passion, especially his cross-carrying and crucifixion. At one particular time in 1958 when I vividly experienced what I came to call the crucifixion of my heart, something extra happened within me that I could at the time define only as "entombment." Yet the crucifixion did not cease. I was somehow still on the cross with Christ even while I was lying dead with him in the cave tomb's cold darkness. I cannot explain how this was. I only know it happened, and was spiritually and interiorily real in an agonizing way. I think I was able to endure these years of intensely negative float-ing only because, during most of them, I was fully occupied being a daily Mass-goer, solo mother, housekeeper, teacher, breadwinner, writer, and student. There was not much opportunity for what my mother disparag-ingly used to call "navel-gazing"--adding, in exasperation, "Why don't you go out and have a good game of tennis!" In spite of immersion in an undoubtedly and unavoidably active life (my form of a good game of tennis!), I yet received insights from time to time that infused some sense into the non-sense of my relationship Negative Floating / 663 with God. For this was where the nonsense, the absurdity, occurred. My rela-tionship with Jesus in his incarnational work of suffering redeemer and crucified Lord made very good sense to me, and gave me the courage to go on enduring. It was from God and his ways that the conundrum originated. Once more he had become for me the "cruel, sadistic mon-ster" who, during the early war years, had caused my rejection of my personal and inadequate version of the Christian religion. One of the key insights I received in the earlier of these negative float-ing years of the 1960s came about as follows. I can visualize clearly where it happened, just as I can vividly recall .where other significant, instant comprehensions occurred, for example, those about "the abyss of corruption" and the self-love involved in my mechanism of setting out to "fascinate" certain people. Such instant dis-cernments come to me like a crystal globe enclosing the truth, and put whole and clear in my mind all at once. The experience is completely different from arriving at a similar conclusion by the laborious process - of ratiocination. It is a matier of immediate comprehension received as a whole and in passivity. In fact, in a floating state, as it were. On this particular occasion I was sitting one morning at the desk in the home of my eldest daughter and her husband, alone in the house ex-cept for a sleeping child. Then in one instant the insight came whole-- just like a very bright light being turned on in my mind, then extin-guished almost immediately, yet leaving behind it the vivid impression of a particular mystery made plain in its illumination. In this case, I "understood" what caused Jesus to cry out, "My God, my God, why have you rejected me?" Just as I had become one with him in other aspects of his passion at various times, now I had become one with him in his cry of derelic-tion. His cry was one with the cry of my own heart to an alien, absentee God, whose face was turned away from me in contempt. Jesus' despair-ing question was to do with his having consented to be "made sin" for us. This was the central point-of the illumination given me. I had bought my Knox bible in 1956 and used it until I obtained the Jerusalem version in 1969. The texts I have marked in the Knox were the ones that had very special meaning for me personally during these darkest years of the cry of dereliction. I have underlined, "Christ never knew sin, and God made him into sin for us, so that in him we might be turned into the holiness of God" (2 Co 5:21). I "saw" that sin was absolutely abhorrent to and automatically re- 664 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 pudiated by God because it was the antithesis of his own unblemished holiness and purity. "God was in Christ, reconciling the world to him-self, establishing in our hearts his message of reconciliation, instead of holding men to account for their sins" (2 Co 5: 19), and "In Christ the whole plenitude of Deity is embodied." Hanging on the cross, dying for us, "made sin," Jesus, though God himself, consented to be relegated in his manhood to the furthest possi-ble distance from God--as f~ir as pure sin must be, of its nature, dis-tanced from pure holiness. It must have been the most elemental, cata-clysmic, schizoid split of all time. In and through this alienation Jesus endured, "the world"--all of us sinners of all time--could be "reconciled" to God instead of being eternally severed from him in self-induced banishment. In effect, Jesus willed to go through the experience of damnation as our proxy, as vic-tim instead of us. This meant knowing God only through the aching void of his ab-sence; submitting to the punitive action of the total recoil of pure holi-ness from pure unholiness; being invaded by a sense of rejection so ab-solute as to know what the hell-state meant, and to be engulfed in it. There is impenetrable mystery here, a paradox so extreme that the human mind cannot encompass it. How could Christ, in whom "the whole plenitude of Deity" remained unimpaired, yet experience himself as "the totality of sin" rejected by that Deity? The how, the mystery, is beyond our human comprehension. The paradox is mind-blowing. I cannot explain fully what I "saw" in the illumination. At the time, I knew it without intellectual explication. This came later, as I meditated upon what I had received, and thought more about what Paul said, out of what was obviously his own personal experience and given insight. Enli/~htenments about this mystery hidden within Christ's dereliction cry have continued to come spasmodically to me up to this present time. "All alike have sinned, all alike are unworthy of God's praise. And justification comes to us as a free gift from his grace, through our re-demption in Christ Jesus. God has offered him to us as a means of rec-onciliation, in virtue of faith, ransoming us with his blood" (Rm 3:23- 25). I had already understood how the solidarity of the human race was such that the salvation or damnation of any one of us must involve and concern all of us. In pouring out in his shed blood his "free gift of grace" for us, Jesus excluded no one, for none of us is sinless. We are all inevitably born programmed for possible disaster by the racial accu- Negative Floating mulation of wrong turnings made while trying to reach a destination whose nature and location we are confused about. Our tendency to get lost is in our genes. ~ "In sin my mother conceived me," is not a reference to the sexual act as such, but to the fact that the whole of humanity is in a state of at least partial alienation from God and can be reconciled only through Christ. Jesus entered the furthest reaches of this alienation when, as the vic-tim for our sins, he uttered his cry of dereliction on the cross. I saw in my moment of illumination that, once I had in 1957 told God he could have me as a victim for the salvation of souls (if he wanted me), I had implicitly consented to enter in some way into this dereliction of Jesus, and keep him company. At the same time, I was not certain God had accepted my offer, for no one had yet confirmed that I was indeed a victim, and I was not to have that assurance for several years yet. It was only then that everything fitted together coherently. But I did see in that moment of revelation that here was the meaning and purpose of the annihilating experience of my-self as spurned and rejected by God, even while at the same time, in my will, I refused to let go of him, and clung on with all my strength. Much later, I realized that even while God "rejected" me, he gave me that very grace I needed to cling tenaciously to him. At the same time, the illumination did not bring me any comforting reassurance, for I could not really believe it applied to me. This may seem a contradiction, but the grace of comfort is an extra grace, and for those years of torment God chose to withhold it from me, no matter what insights he gave my intellect. That I already had a well-established, deep-seated rejection syn-drome as part of my emotional makeup made it simpler and easier for all of this to happen. Grace had only to activate and utilize what was al-ready there, so deeply rooted in my inner being. I believe that God did this in order to use me for others as I had pleaded with him to do. In the terms I have since evolved for myself, I was "floating". in the negative way with Jesus on the cross, as part of "the Dali image." I was there tb help my neighbor, any neighbor--it was for God to choose whom, I never asked to be shown who, how, or where. "Enemies of God, we were reconciled to him through his Son's death; reconciled to him, we are surer than ever of finding salvation in his Son's life. And, what is more, we can boast of God's protection; al-ways through our Lord Jesus Christ, since it is through him that we have 666 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 attained our reconciliation"(Rm 5:10-1 I). "We who were taken up into Christ by baptism have been taken up, all of us, into his death . We have to be closely fitted into the pat-tern of his resurrection, as we have been into the pattern of his death" (Rm 6:3, 5). Sin and salvation, death and life, crucifixion and resurrection, Jesus and all of us--inseparable. It is all mingled together like the confluence of two mighty rivers flowing as one towards the ocean of eternity and infinity. We have to "share his sufferings if we are to share his glory" (Rm 8:17). Some refuse the suffering and do not believe in the glory. Proxies must, in their stead, agree to be immersed in the passion with Jesus, so that the glory will permeate them, too. He came to save all. His will to redeem the whole of humanity can-not and will not be thwarted, but we are all one with him, and so those who are willing must help him save those who are unwilling. He expects and requires this of his lovers, though not necessarily as explicit victims, for this must be a given vocation. "For thy sake, we face death at every moment, reckoned no better than sheep marked down for slaughter. Yet in all this we are conquer-ors, through him who has granted us his love" (Rm 8:36-37). In the "inscrutable judgments" and "undiscoverable ways" of God is hidden the mystery of the redemption of the human race, in which all participate, consciously or unconsciously. The willing "offer up their bodies as a living sacrifice" because "though we are many in number" (trillions and trillions of us back to the beginning and on to the end of time), we yet "form one body in Christ and each acts as the counter-part of the other" (see Rm 12). Paul insists we are "Christ's body, organs of it depending upon each other" (1 Co 12:27), and therefore "the sufferings of Christ overflow into our lives"--together with divine comfort (2 Co 1:5). For Paul, shar-ing in the sufferings of Christ in order to bring forth spiritual children for him, is a fundamental Christian vocation. He writes, "It makes me happy to suffer for you, as I am sufferi.ng now, and in my own body to do what I can to make up all that has still to be undergone by Christ for the sake of his body, the Church. I became the servant of the Church" (Col 1:24-25). All these teachings of St. Paul, marked in my Knox bible, had had dynamic personal meaning for me ever since 1956, the year of my re-ception into the Church. They had been fortified and elucidated by stud-ies of such theological works as The Whole Christ by E. Mersch, S.J. Negative Floating / 66"/ (Dobson, London, 1956). They were in the very fiber of my interior life, yet, though I knew, believed, and lived what Jesus exemplified and Paul taught and lived, no felt comfort and consolation resulted. I was given strength to endure (while experiencing myself as weak and destitute) and that was all. But to endure and to persevere is at the very basis of the nada path journey, and the grace given me to do this was among the supreme ones of my life. Father Basil had now become my director, though, as he had been transferred, we seldom had the chance to meet. What he wrote to me in a letter of July, 1963, is relevant to the above. I quote: God does love you very dearly. Think of the tremendous graces that you have received from him. Your desire to give him everything in return is all that matters. You give, generously, only to the One whom you love . I am not so much concerned about the aridity and difficulty that you are experiencing at your prayers and the seeming loss of God. What I am concerned about is your loss of peace and near panic, because of the difficulties. The temptation to discouragement is one of the most insidious and dangerous for an interior soul. If you are patient and do not allow this temptation to dictate any change in your program of the day, you have nothing to fear. In his own good time he will give you the light and the warmth that seem to have disappeared. There is noth-ing in your day that is not worthy of being offered to him. This means that you are every hour united more intimately with him. You are grow-ing in charity and all the virtues, without being conscious of the growth. The increase in charity is all that matters. His reassurance was a blessing, calming me until the next spasm of self-doubt and apparent rejection by God afflicted me. Then I would re-read what he said, and be comforted again. In a queer way it was as if God himself was telling me, "Don't worry. Everything's all right-- even though it seems to be all wrong." Again he was loving me through "a soul in which he had established himself," just as he had promised as I lay so ill and weak in the hospital. One or two entries in my journals record various aspects of my nega-tive floating at this time. In the following, I think my way through to a grace-enlightened conclusion in faith, hope, and trust. It was not given to me in~stantaneously as a crystal globe. I quote from a 1963 rare entry: It is the risen Lord who permeates the whole of creation. 1 have been experiencing the suffering Christ. The climax came in the crucifixion of my heart. Then entombment and silence. Only the dead Christ there, un- 668 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 stirring~ and myself numb and seemingly dead with him year after year, waiting and praying and longing for the resurrection. Now I see the the Lord is risen. He fills my soul and the whole of his Mystical Body. He has risen as he said he would, even while I mourned him dead in me, and I dead with him. He is risen. How can this become more real to me, so that I too rise with him? Let me think . It is the risen Lord who permeates the whole of creation. Therefore he is not dead in me~ for his resurrection truly hap-pened. But something did die in me and was entombed. What was it? The overwhelming sense of entombment. Christ dead and in the tomb. And it was a significant turning point. What died? My attachment to and need of natural love? But the process of purgation through hu-man relationships still continues. Yet it is different. How? What died and was buried? "You have undergone death, and your life is buried and hidden away with Christ." I made a heartbreaking renunciation of my own free will, and I gave up--what? What died? My heart died. Yet I found other loves. "Christ, having undergone death, cannot die any more . He is not here; he has risen as he told you . We have to be closely fitted into the pattern of his resurrection, as we have been into the pattern of his death . We'know that Christ, now he has risen from the dead, cannot die any more. Death has no more power over him . " It was not Christ who died in me, for he cannot die any more. It was something in myself that died. And all the while I have been entombed, he has been living in my soul the life of the risen Lord. His resurrection is continuous just as much as his passion is. Somehow I have to become united with this.risen Christ. Like La-zarus called forth from the tomb, I have to shed my grave clothes and answer the call of the Lord, but "how? How? I don't know how. He has to say, "Come forth," and then I shall be able to move. Yet he eternally says, "Come forth," inviting me to share his life of glory in the Trinity, the life he is already living in my soul all the time I am in a state of grace. Only somehow I cannot unite myself with it, because the tomb wall seems in the way. What is the tomb wall? My compulsion to suffer psychologically in a certain way? Perhaps. Lord, give me light. Holy Spirit, whom he sends, lead me forth. Pray in and for me. I have been in a state of inertia, feeling I could do nothing till Christ rose in me--but he has never been dead in me. It was a part of myself that died, not he. All the time he has been waiting for me to come to him. Perhaps he has already said, "Come forth," only I have been so busy with my self-inflicted mourning, that l haven't heard him. My anguish was the death of some form of self-love, the crucifix- Negative Floating / 669 ion of some kind of seif-will, some aspect of the "world" that I clung to. "The people that lived in darkness have seen a great light . And he shall reign forever and ever . Come and bring forth from the dungeon the prisoner sitting in darkness and the shadow of death . " The shadow of my death. Just one of the excruciatihg deaths one must die before one can mount to a higher level on the nada path. Death and renewal. Part of his passion, but the passion is always inseparable from the resurrection, and the resurrection is. I don't have to wait for it--it is. 1 am already in it by the power of g~:ace and the presence of God in my soul. How then do I.realize and live consciously this risen life? That is the question. The "how" was to remain unrealized by me for some years yet. In the meantime I had to live in pure faith the reality of the crucified, en-tombed, but already risen Lord in me and in the whole of creation. 1 had to stay on the cross and in the tomb till God himself chose the time and way for my personal resurrection. I could not raise up myself. It had to be a work of pure grace. The words I use in another brief entry near the end of 1964 all re-veal a state of unalleviated negative floating. They are: Emptiness. Noth-ing. Waiting. Search. No finding. Grief. No.comfort. Dryness. Frigid-i'ty. Impotence. Waiting. Alone. Loneliness. Wa, iting--on and on. Dead-ness. ~umbness. Insensibility. No tears . . . too dry . . . But I believe. I hope. I suffer. I love. I wait. He loves. 1 know he loves. I believe he loves. Amen. In her Life Teresa of Avila tells of a spiritual state that reminds me of what I call "negative floating." First she mentions how St. Paul wrote about "being crucified to the world." Then she comments on how this reminds her of the soul that is receiving comfort from neither heaven nor earth, nor from any other source either. She says that in such a/ state of suspension and denial the soul is "crucified between heaven and earth; and it suffers greatly, for no help comes to it either from the one or from the other." It is "sus-pended by (its) distress, just as in union and rapture (it is) suspended by joy . It is a martyrdom." She records that when she is not physically occupied so that her mind is on something else, she is "plunged into these death-like yearnings." The "pain is so excessive that (she) can scarcely bear it"; she feels as though she has "a rope around (her) neck, is being strangled, is trying 670 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 to breathe . . . and crying out for help to breathe." She longs and longs to be able to talk to someone "who has passed through the same torment, for she finds that, despite her complaints of it, no one seems to believe her." (See Life, Ch. XX.) It was not till my own darkest years were past that I came across the above and was forcibly struck by its similarity to what I myself had ex-perienced. When actually immersed in that suffering, I remember having read that one of the worst sufferings of Jesus on the cross must have been be-ing stifled by his inability to breathe. This was caused by the constric-tion of lungs, heart, and ribs in his hanging posture. To ease it he must have had to heave himself up repeatedly on his nailed feet--an extra ag-ony. I think Teresa is describing the spiritual equivalent of this condition for those in the negative floating state of union with Jesus hanging on the cross. John of the Cross, using different metaphors, writes of what I take to be a similar state. He says it is caused by "purgative contemplation" during which the inflowing of God's presence into the soul "in order to renew it" reaches down into its depths, into its very "spiritual substance." The soul seems to itself to be "drowned in darkness," to be "melting away" and to be enveloped by "a cruel spiritual death." Metaphorically it is like Jonah in the whale's belly. (In relation to this present article, it is worth recalling that Jonah's ordeal has been accepted as a scriptural symbol for Jesus' entombment.) John writes that "in this sepulcher of dark death (the soul) must needs abide until the spiritual resurrection which it hopes for." It is consumed by "the lamentations of death., the pains of hell ¯ . . the clear perception that God has abandoned it, in his abhorrence of it, and has flung it into darkness." It feels "itself to be without God, and chastised and cast out, and unworthy of him; and it feels he is wrathful With it." John also speaks of spiritual stifling and "afflictive suffering" that consists of the soul's feeling as though it "were suspended or held in the air so that it could not breathe." The state is intensified by the fact that the sufferer cannot find help or understanding from any human be-ing. He concludes by writing, "Of such are they that in truth go down alive into hell" (purgatory). (See Dark Night H, Ch. VI.) Negative Floating / 671 I do not know whether what I experienced during these years was the same as what is described by Teresa and John. I only know that when I read them now, as in the above passages, I feel I understand exactly what is being reported, because I myself have been through it. Shall it be N or N plus I lamN. I accepted that. I buried deep in my mind My mathematical knowledge Of what N could really be. Not satisfied with status quo But dreading the pain That moving might mean, I embraced N-fixed, safe and therefore undemanding. Memory would not be stifled. Knowledge that N can be expanded Would twist and turn and peek out Coming to the surface unexpectedly And at times unwanted. There is more. Why not N plus one? Expanding toward potential Could hurt, could be dearly bought. Surely, only here is progress, Expansion toward great goals. Why else do I exist? Except to know N is not complete Without Him as plus One. Sister Marjorie Sweeney, S.S.J. St. Joseph Convent 734 Willow Street Lebanon, PA 17042 Spiritual Dryness: Some Practical Guidelines Eamon Tobin Father Eamon Tobin, having completed the Master's degree in Formative Spiritual-ity at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, is currently pastor of a parish in Cocoa Beach, Florida. His address is Church of Our Savior; 5301 North Atlantic Avenue; Cocoa Beach, Florida 32931. The Lord, your God, will circumcise your hearts., that you may love the Lord, your God, with all your heart and all your soul, and so may live (Dt 30:6). Blessed. is the person who can call the darkness holy, who can desire its purification, who can rest in its presence. Such a person will grow rapidly because the process of purification is facilitated by generosity (Source Unknown). [~'very praying person sooner or later experiences what is called dryness in prayer. In spiritual dryness we have no felt sense of God's presence. We may,even think we have lost our Beloved or feel abandoned by him. In the sch~)ol, of prayer, few things are more important to understand than the nature and role of spiritual dryness, I intend to deal with this impor-tant dimension of the spiritual life by responding to five important ques-tions that one can ask about prayer in the desert. Question 1: What is it that praying people experience during the desert periods of the spiritual"jou~rney? The actual desert experience of praying persons will vary depending on the level of faith and spiritual maturity. For example, for the beginner in prayer spiritual dryness fre-quently means not just the absence of a felt sense of the presence of God 672 Spiritual Dryness / 67'3 but also feelings of what Saint Ignatius calls desolation--that is, feel-ings of anxiousness, sadness, or lo.ss of peace flowing from the thought, "I have lost God," or "God has abandoned me." On the other hand, for the person who is more mature in faith and advanced in the ways of prayer, spiritual dryness may not be an experience of desolation. The ex-perience will be one which lacks a felt sense of God's presence but may be accompanied by the conviction: "Even though I can't feel his pres-ence (at least on the external level), I do believe he is close and active in my life. Even though I cannot feel his presence (that is, spiritual dry-ness), I don't feel anxious, sad, or abandoned (that is, desolation). In fact, I feel peaceful." ~ To believe that God is present and active despite his apparent absence can be considered one of the greatest blessings of the spiritual life. For most of us, particularly in the early years of prayer, spiritual dryness usually includes the experience of desolation ("I have lost God; God has abandoned me"). Usually it is a time of spiritual suf-fering. We think we are getting the "silent treatment" from God. We "call out to him all day long, but he never answers" (Ps 22:3).2 Spiri-tual dryness is like journeying in the desert with no water in sight. Prayer is no longer exciting; rather, it is a weary struggle. Spiritual exercises that once nourished us now are empty, and we have little or no desire .to do them. Another dimension of the desert experience may be a feeling of dis-couragement as we become keenly aware of our own sinfulness. (We may not yet know that one of the surest signs of growth in the interior life is a growing awareness of our own sinfulness.) We may begin to think we are regressing rather than progressing. We may begin to expe-rience one of the great paradoxes of the spiritual life: the closer we come to God the further it seems to us that we are away from him. As we get closer to the all-piercing Light of God, the more our own darkness will show itself. Our lives will appear to be hollow and mediocre. The Scot-tish priest, the late Father John Dalrymple, writes: "It is as if I were to bring the sleeve of my coat toward the window of the room, and as I move into the light, the dust and dandruff on the sleeve become more obvious. It is not that as I moved the coat got dirtier, but that the light got brighter.''3 All in all, the thing that scares us most and even hurts us is the thought, "I have lost my Beloved; he has abandoned me" (See Song of Songs, Chapter 3). This thought or feeling is the experience of desolation described above. To sum up, we can say that while the actual experience of the desert will be different for different people, for all of us it will mean a felt sense 6"/4 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 of the absence of God. And for those of us whose faith in God is still fragile, it will frequently involve the experience of desolation (the "I have lost God" feeling). In reading the above description of spiritual dryness, one may think that it is something only experienced by monks, religious, and the ex-ceptional lay person~ Yet spiritual directors tell us that this experience is quite .common in the lives of many average, prayerful people who dis-cover somewhere in the midst of their spiritual journeys that spiritual ex-ercises that once nourished them spiritually now do nothing for them. Question 2: Why is an understanding of this dimension of prayer so important? There are at least three reasons why some understanding of spiritual dryness is important. First, if we do not know the role of the times of dryness, we may think that we have "lost God" and that our prior, positive feelings in prayer were not a gift from God but the crea-tion of our own imaginations. This frequently happens. Many people who have a genuine conversion and get all excited about prayer quit when the well runs dry. This is sad because it is now that God wants to do his real work in such persons. Second, lack of knowledge about the purpose of spiritual dryness may cause us to continue praying in a way that, at this particular stage in our spiritual journey, may be more of an obstacle than a help to our spiritual growth. Many people are unaware that at some stage in the spiritual journey God calls us to become less active in prayer so that he can be more active in our spiritual transfor-mation. Third, the experience of spiritual dryness may be something caused by ourselves or something permitted by God. When it is permit-ted by God, it is meant to purify us and bring us closer to him. Such dry-ness is a gift to be accepted and embraced. When spiritual dryness is our doing, we need to work at removing the causes of such dryness. Lack of knowledge about the nature and role of spiritual dryness may lead us to believe that a particular experience of dryness in prayer is authentic and God-given when in fact it is something brought on by our own infi-delities. So the time of spiritual dryness is a critical time in the spiritual jour-ney. How we respond to it will determine whether we move forward spiri-tually or stagnate. Question 3: Why does God permit us to experience desert peri-ods in the spiritual journey? So I will allure her 1 will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart (Ho 2:16). Spiritual Dryness / 675 God permits us to experience spiritual desert periods in order to pu-rify us of those things that hinder our spiritual transformation and to teach us some important lessons about the spiritual life and how it works. In our answer to this question we will look at some specific purifications that God works in us and lessons that he teaches us in the desert. Purifications of the Desert In the desert God will want to purify us of any excessive attachment we may have to consolation in prayer. If in prayer God blesses us with a lot of consolations (or "spiritual highs" as we often say today), there is a danger that we may seek and love "the consolations of our God more than the God of our consolations" (Saint Teresa of Avila). In time of spiritual consolation it is easy to pray. The challenge is to remain faith-ful to prayer when we experience little or no felt sense of God's pres-ence or action in our lives. During such dry periods God is asking us to love him for himself and not just for the spiritual highs or consolations he offers us in prayer. He is asking us to show that we are not just fair-weather friends but all-weather friends. And he is teaching us the im-portant lesson that he is to be found more deeply in the desert than in the garden of superficial delights. Secondly, in the desert God purifies us of spiritual vanity. John Dal-rymple explains sp!ritual vanity in this way: Someone taking to religion in all zeal, becoming caught upI in a cam-paign of prayer, fasting, spiritual reading, liturgical practice, and retreat weekends might be indulging unawares in one big ego-trip. Conversion of the soul from a worldly life to a spiritual life is at first s, uperficial only. The convert has been given new, spiritual goals; but the conver~- sion is only external. In itself the sofil is as full as it ever was of unre-generate tendencies to vanity, arrogance, acquisitiveness, the only dif-ference being that after conversion these tendencies are now attached to spiritual instead of worldly objects . The zeal of such a person is infectious, but it is, as yet, chiefly the expression of the person's vanity or self-centeredness, dressed up in Christian clothes.4 For God to do his work of spiritual transformation in us, he must pu-rify us of such spiritual vanity. God often brings about this purification in us by bringing to naught our best efforts to change ourselves and eve-rything and everyone around us. As we sit on the ruins of our self-made temples and projects, we are purified of spiritual vanity and arrogance, and we learn the meaning of spiritual poverty, which is realizing our com-plete dependence and need for God to bring about any spiritual growth 676 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 in others or in ourselves. In the desert, God's intention is not to punish us but to purify us. In the journey of life we consciously or unconsciously become overly-attached to persons or things--so much so that they become idols (that is, more important to us than God). This happened to Israel after she lived in the Promised Land for some time. She became so enamored with the blessings of the land that she forgot the One who gave her the land. To purify her of this idolatry God led Israel into the desert for a second time where she would be free of all her attachments and free to listen anew to the Word of God (See Hosea, Chapter 2). Lessons to Be Learned in the Desert Now let us briefly look at some of the lessons that God wishes to teach us in the desert. When God takes away consolation in prayer (that is, the felt sense of his presence), he wants to teach us the important lesson that he can be encountered at a deeper level than our emotions. He wants to teach us that we are no longer dependent on emotional returns to know we have encountered him. As we grow in our relationship with God, the more we will "learn to be at home in the dark because we are sure, in faith, that the potter is truly shaping the clay, even though the clay sees nothing of what is happening."5 An example about eating food might help to illustrate this point more clearly. Sometimes we may immensely enjoy eating a delicious meal. We may savor every morsel of the food. All in all, it is a delightful ex-perience. On another occasion we may not enjoy at all another type of delicious meal. We may not be feeling well, or the food may not appeal to us. Yet from a nutritious point of view, both meals are equally good. Our lack of enjoyment of the second meal in no way diminishes its nu-tritious value. The same principle is at work when it comes to prayer. Sometimes when we pray we really feel and savor God's presence and love. At other times the prayer is empty and dull. Who are we, though, to say that the latter time is of no benefit to our spiritual growth or is less pleasing in God's sight? A second lesson God teaches us in the desert is that spiritual conso-lation is his p.ure gift to us and not something we can earn by being good or by praying :in a particular way. In prayer God teaches us this impor-tant lesson by "dropping in" on us when we least expect him and by "failing to show" when we very much want to experience his presence. A third lesson that God wishes to teach us in the desert is that spiri- Spiritual Dryness / 677 tual growth is totally dependent on his work in us and not on anything we do. Our task is simply to be flexible and cooperative with the move-ment of his Spirit. In the spiritual life, "working at it" often means "be-ing still," "just being there" and exercising discipline over our doing and achieving self which so often wants to run the show. This is a diffi-cult lesson for us because so much of our training for the outer journey of life has told us to be "take-charge" and self-sufficient persons. It is not easy for us to switch gears in the inner journey. In the spiritual life God is the Chief Actor; we are the acted-upon. Mary, at the Annunciation (Lk 1:26-38), is our perfect model. When God mysteriously breaks into Mary's life and invites her to become the mother of Jesus, she doesn't respond, "Sure, Lord, I'll do it!" Rather, she says, "I am your maidservant; work in and through me as you want." Mary's response was, "Fiat, be it done unto me," not, "I'11 do it." This attitude is one of active receptivity, and it is the secret of Christian spirituality and spiritual growth. Active receptivity is charac-terized by the effort to place our energy, will, and freedom at the dis-posal of God so that he can do with us and in us what he wills, Finally, when God our Father allows our prayer to run dry, he is in-viting us to participate in the cross of Jesus. In times of dryness we are experiencing the thirst of Jesus on the cross. If the cross was Jesus' way to the Father, then surely we, the disciples of Jesus, cannot expect to travel the scenic route free of all pain and hardship. When we experi-ence darkness in prayer or in the marketplace, we are being invited to identify with Jesus in his suffering, in his experience of feeling aban-doned by the Father. Also in the desert we are being invited and chal-lenged to trust that our God will not abandon us but will come to rescue us and redeem us (See Exodus, Chapter 16). Question 4: How can I tell when a particular desert experience is caused by my own infidelity or is something permitted by God to help me to grow in my relationship with him? When dryness occurs in prayer, particularly in the early stages when God is giving alternating periods of dryness and consolation, wemay tend to blame ourselves for dryness. We may wonder what latest infidelity we committed to bring about this dryness. The fact may be that we have done nothing wrong . to occasion the dryness. God may be allowing us to experience the dry-ness bechuse he wants to teach us some lesson and/or purify some as-pect of our relationship with him. On the other hand, we may think the dryness is from God when in fact it is caused by our own laxity and sin-fulness. Therefore, it is important that we be able to discern the true 6711 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 cause of the dryness because our response to it will differ, depending on whether the dryness is permitted by God or is something brought on by ourselves. Let us now identify several ways that we can bring about our own spiritual desert. ( 1 ) Indifference to a Sinful Pattern of Behavior: If we are indifferent to some sinful pattern of behavior in our lives, then we can expect diffi-culty in prayer. In a human friendship a negative pattern of behavior (for example, a critical or lying spirit), which we make no effort to ,change, will have a destructive effect on the whole relationship. Likewise, if in our relationship with God, we are deliberately ignoring a sinful pattern of behavior (for example, involvement in an illicit relationship, unfor-giveness, unethical business practices), then we can rightfully expect ten-sion in our relationship with God. When we do the above, we are delib-erately excluding the Lord and his influence from some area of our lives. In such a situation we should not be surprised that we do not feel God's presence very much in prayer. Here it is important to note that I am not referring to a sinful pattern of behavior that we are trying to change and that we are bringing before the Lord in prayer. In this case we are rec-ognizing sin and struggling with it. Instead of keeping us from God, our struggle with a particular sin or weakness may be the very means that God will use to allow us to experience his love, mercy and power. (See 2 Co 12:7-10 for Paul's famous example of how his thorn in the flesh became the very means of God's power.) In the former case, we are not even confronting our sin or seeking God's help with it. Instead we are deliberately ignoring its existence or trying to rationalize its O.K. 'hess. In the latter case, our sin grieves us and we are doing what we can to remove it from our lives. (2) Repressed Anger at God: Two highly-respected spiritual direc-tors, Fathers William Connoily and William Barry, write in a co-authored book: "When prayer flattens out, or appears tO be facing an iron wall, the director must always suspect the presence of unexpressed anger."6 To add to this problem, many of us were raised in a culture where appropriate expression of anger was socially unacceptable. "Hence resentments, holding a grudge or subdued rage, when they are present, are all likely to be given other names like indifference and ra-tional analysis."7 When someone hurts us, our relationship with that per-son will diminish, even if we decide to present an affable, friendly front; but in reality we will distance Ourselves emotionally from the person. In a similar way, if we become angry with God about something, we may Spiritual Dryness / 679 continue to be faithful to our prayer time, but on an emotional level we can be fairly sure we have distanced ourselves from him. (It is impor-tant for us to be aware that if life is handing us a raw deal, we may well be unconsciously blaming God, the Source of all things, for our lousy situation.) (3) Separation of Prayer and Life: The spiritual life is all of life and not just one segment of it. The Lord refuses to be a compartmentalized God; he wants to be a part and parcel of our whole life. When we try to keep God in church or in our prayer closet and not allow him to guide all the activities of our day, we can be sure that we are setting ourselves up for dryness in prayer. If we exclude God from the activities of our day, then we should not be surprised if he is missing from our prayer time. Even on a human level, no one likes to be a "tag-along" in some-one else's life. (4) Overwork: When our prayer life dries up, it is good for us to ask if we are pushing ourselves too much on the vital and functional dimen-sions of life. "Am I overworked? Am I over-tired? Am I coming down with the flu? Am I neglecting physical exercise? Do I have a tendency to make leisure time work? Or do I have leisure time--period?" These are important questions to ask. These things affect our prayer life. If we fail to care properly for our bodies, then we are neglecting a dimension of ourselves that we depend on to help us to pray. When we are very tired and overworked, prayer may well be seen as just another duty or thing to do. (5) Lack of Honesty in Prayer: Just as shallow or dishonest sharing dulls human relationships, it also dulls the Divine-human relationship. If our prayer is no more than "sweet talk" to "sweet Jesus," we should not expect Jesu~ to be too interested in our conversation. We must learn to talk to the Lord about the real stuff in our lives. (6) Halfhearted Efforts at Prayer: On a human level two friends may fail to really connect with each other because their conversations are "just words," words that fail to express what they are truly thinking and feeling. The problem may be that deep down they don't want to or are scared to encounter each other in a deep way. When a relationship is char-acterized by this type of communication, then we should expect it to be empty and unfulfiiling. In a similar vein, when our prayer time mainly consists of the rote recitation of certain prayers or of inattentive spiritual reading--if beneath the "saying of prayers" and the acts of piety there is no real desire to encounter God and grow in relationship with him-- then we should expect little or no satisfaction in prayer. In fact, our spiri- Review for Religious, September-October 1989 tual exercises may become a substitute for a real relationship with God. If we discern that we are the cause of our spiritual dryness, we should do all we can to remove the particular obstacle. For example, if the problem or obstacle is that we are holding onto a grudge and doing nothingto let it go, then we may need to pray for forgiveness for that person and/or we may need to have an open chat with the person with whom we are having a problem. If we discern that our experience of spiri-tual dryness is due to our tendency to separate prayer and life (see ob-stacle number three above), then our solution will be to work at allow-ing the Lord to walk with us in all the activities of our day. In short, when we discern that we are the cause of the spiritual dryness, then we ought to do something to remove the obstacle. It is the experience of most, if not all, disciples of the Lord that once they begin to struggle with an obstacle, prayer again becomes alive and they experience a new closeness to God. Finally, it should be noted that in trying to discern the cause of our spiritual dryness we would be well advised to seek the coun- ¯ sel of a good spiritual director. When we experience spiritual dryness most of us have a tendency to think that it is due to some infidelity on our part. The truth may be that God is permitting us to experience the desert so that he can continue his purifying work in us. This brings us to the second part of our response to Question 4: "How might we know that it is God and not us who is calling us into a spiritual desert?" While we can never be absolutely sure--since we live by faith and not by clear vision--when spiritual dryness is being per-mitted by God, we can say that the following are good indicators that the dryness is the purifying work of God: --If during the time of dryness we remain faithful to prayer. --If our prayer is honest and flowing from the real stuff of our lives. --If we are trying to integrate prayer and life. --If we are trying to live a life of charity; if our prayer is helping us to be more loving. --If we are genuinely trying to avoid sin and live our lives accord-ing to God's Word. --If we thirst for God as we walk in the desert. (It is crucial that we, remember that our desire for God is in itself a tangible sign of his pres-ence in our lives. We couldn't even desire God if he didn't place that desire in our hearts.) You will notice that the above signs are pretty much the opposite of the ways that we ourselves bring about our own spiritual desert. Prayer, like so many other things in life, is a series of "arrivals" Spiritual Dryness and "starting points." We arrive at a point where we feel good. We ex-perience the grace of consolation. But that only lasts a little while and then a certain discontent (a kind of desert) sets in--a discontent that may be caused by ourselves or permitted by God. Then we are faced with the challenge of discerning who is causing the discontent: "Is it God or me?" The purpose of the discontent caused by him is to create in us a longing for more, to create in us a desire to move closer to God. In the spiritual journey God brings us to a particular point or state; he lets us rest there and enjoy that plateau for a little while, and then he says, "O.K. Let's move ahead and seek for more" (see Ex 40:36-37). Of course, it is not easy to move when we are not sure where he is leading us. All he says is, "Move and trust that I'll take you to a new and bet-ter place." Finally, if we are in doubt about the cause ofour discontent or dry-ness, then we should talk to a spiritual guide or, if that is not possible, simply say a prayer like this: "Lord, if this dryness I am experiencing is due to some failing of mine, please reveal it to me. Until you do I am going to assume that I am not the cause of the dryness." Question 5: What are some resources available to us to sustain us in the desert? Four resources that will sustain us in the desert are: --a wise spiritual director; --a strong faith; --fidelity to prayer; --the support of fellow pilgrims. Our first help is a wise spiritual director. By wise I mean one who understands the role of the desert in the spiritual life and hopefully one who has experienced and grown through the desert in his or her own spiri-tual journey. Many people whom God led into the desert for purifica-tion have suffered much at the hands of well-intentioned but misinformed spiritual guides. Saint John of the Cross reserves some of his harshest words for such misinformed guides.8 For example, a misinformed guide may insist that a directee continue to meditate and do a lot of spiritual reading when God is calling her to the prayer of contemplation. In the desert a good spiritual director will be a source of guidance, encourage-ment and inspiration. When we are in a spiritual desert, it is important that we learn to place our trust in a good spiritual director. But, as most of us know, wise spiritual directors are nearly as scarce as palm trees in the northern states of America. The truth is that the road to authenticity is dangerous, hard, and narrow, and few decide to travel it. In the ab-sence of a wise spiritual director (and there is really no substitute for such Review for Religious, .September-October 1989 a person), one may receive some guidance from books that are written or recommended by people who are recognized guides of the inner jour-ney. A second important resource is a strong faith--a faith that enables US" --to believe that God knows what he is doing when he allows us to ex-perience the desert (Rm 11:33-36); --to believe that in the desert God is not punishing us but is purifying us (Dt 30:6); --to believe that God grows his best flowers (virtues) in the desert (Ho 2); --to believe that God works in us while we rest in him (Mk 4:26-29); --to believe that in the struggles of life God is on our side fighting our battles (Ex 14:13-14 and Dt 1:30-33); --to believe that in the desert God's seeming absence is just a different type of presence, one that we may not as yet have recognized (Ex 16); --to be secure with insecurity (Rm 8:28); --above all, to generously abandon ourselves to the purifying work of God (Lk 23:46). A third important resource as we struggle in the desert is fidelity to prayer. In the desert, prayer is usually dry and therefore all the more dif-ficult to remain faithful to. When it comes to praying in the desert, spiri-tual guides counsel us to avoid two extremes or temptations. The first temptation is to quit prayer, thinking that our best efforts are leading us nowhere. The second temptation is to "junk up" our prayer time with extra prayers, rosaries, Scripture reading, and so forth, thinking that if we only try harder maybe we will feel the presence of God. This second temptation needs to be resisted not only because it blocks what God is about in the desert but also because it is (usually unconsciously) our at-tempt to stay in or get back into the driver's seat. In general, prayer in the desert will become much less active, more passive--less us, more God. The challenge will be to learn to sit quietly in the presence of God, trusting that he is at work in us while we rest in him. Le~.rning to "waste time doi.ng nothing" in prayer is, without a doubt, one of the most difficult lessons we have to learn in the school of prayer. Unfortunately, most of us never learn to waste time gracefully in the presence of God. Such a practice goes completely against our west-ern, work-ethic nature that is usually driven to do, to achieve, and to pro-duce-- that likes to see tangible results for its efforts. Because of this need in us, most of us fill the vacuum that we feel in the desert with read- Spiritual Dryness ing or prayers of some sort. For those of us who are willing to try and do less (that is, to be less active) in prayer so that God may do more in us, the following suggestions might be helpful. -Spend some time just "being there" with the Lord, aware that as "we rest in him he is at work in us." We put aside all effort to achieve because now we are learning that achievement (growth) is God's work. By periodically spending some time "doing nothing" in the presence of the Lord, we are expressing our faith in an important spiritual dictum: "God's activity in prayer is more important than my activity." -Spend some time slowly repeating prayers like: "Incline my heart to your will, O Lord." "Make me want you, O Lord, more than anyone/ thing in my life." -Take a phrase of Scripture like "You are my beloved Son" and dwell on it. -Simply take one word like "Jesus" or "love" and repeat it gent-ly and slowly, letting God work in us, leading us beyond conceptual thoughts, images, or feelings to wordless depths. -Image and be present to Mary in the Temple after she lost Jesus (Lk 2:41-50) and at the foot of the cross (Jn 19:25-27) which must have been a real dark night of the spirit for her. Ask Mary to intercede for you so that you may have something of the faith which she had when she thought she had lost Jesus. -Finally, you may want to read something on spiritual dryness. By simply reading and rereading portions of a book like When the Well Runs Dry, I am encouraged to persevere in the desert. Personally, I need to hear over and over again the teaching and encouragement that a book like Father Green's offers. In prayer our role is to be faithful in coming aside, to be at God's disposal. What actually happens in prayer is God's business. For me this piece of wisdom has always been very consoling. It helped to free me from thinking that it was up to me to make things happen in prayer. Now I am more relaxed, knowing that my role is to be faithful in coming aside, to do what I can to eliminate distractions from within and with-out, and to pray as I feel led. ("Pray as you can, not as you can't.") The rest is in God's hands. If he chooses to bless me with a deep sense of his presence, I am indeed very grateful. If he chooses to bless me with his seeming absence (God is always only seemingly absent), then I try to be grateful for that, also believing that God knows what will best help me to grow. "Our prayer is good when our hearts are fixed on God, even if it is filled with boring aridity or passionate turmoil.' ,9 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 A fourth resource in the desert is the prayer and personal support of fellow pilgrims. While each person's inner journey is very personal and unique, still we can learn much from the journeys of co-pilgrims. Only the foolish try to travel the inner jou~rney alone. In the desert we are all beggars sharing morsels of bread with each other. Also, if we are blessed enough to be a part of a small, faith---sharing group, then we have avail-able to us an excellent resourc_~e for the dry times. In the dry times the prayers of'fellow pilgrims are usually a big help. I wbuld like to conclude our discussion on spiritual dryness with a prayer that I have found to be a source of great encouragement during times of spiritual desolation. Dear Lord, in the midst of much inner turmoil and restlessness, there is a consoling thought: maybe you are working in me in a way I cannot yet feel, experience, or understand. My mind is not able to concentrate on you, my heart is not able to remain centered, and it seems as if you are absent and have left me alone. But in faith I cling to you. I believe that your Spirit reaches deeper and further than my mind or heart, and that profound movements are not the first to be noticed. Therefore, Lord, I promise I will not run away, not give up, not stop praying, even when it all seems useless, pointless, and a waste of time and effort. I want to let you know that I love you even though | do not feel loved by you, and that I hope in you even though I often experi-ence despair. Let this be a little dying I can do with you and for you as a way of experiencing some solidarity with the millions in this world who suffer far more than I do. Amen.~° NOTES ~ See Thomas H. Green, S. J., Weeds Among the Wheat (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1984), Chapters 6 and 7. Also see Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1979), p. 92. 2 Some other Psalms that reflect darkness in the prayer of the psalmist are Psalms 60, 69, 74, and 88. 3 Father John Dalrymple, Simple Prayer (Wilmington, Delaware, 1984), p. 69. '~ lbid, p. 93. 5 Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1979), p. 119. 6 Fathers William Barry. and William Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (New York, 1982), p. 73. 7 Ibid. 8 Saint John of the Cross, The Collected Works of John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D. (Washington, D.C., 1979), pp. 620-634. 9 Father John Dalrymple, Simple Prayer, (Wilmington, Delaware, 1984), p. 66. ~0 Henri J. M. Nouwen, A Cry for Mercy: Prayers from the Genesee (Garden City, New York, 1983), p. 102. That God Might Be Father .Laurel M. O'Neal Sister Laurel O'Neal, a solitary (hermit), is familiar to our readers. Her address is Stillsong Hermitage; 80 Lafayette Circle; Lafayette, California 94549. Perhaps the only question more problematic than that of the possibility of prayer is the question of its, genuine significance and necessity. Sur-prisingly, however, this is also a question we generally fail to consider explicitly or face squarely. More typically, the meaningfulness and re-quisiteness of our prayer are matters we tend to take for granted, even though the notion of prayer may lie at the heart of important or even fun-damental expressi6ns of self-understanding and definition. But the ques-tion is an important one, and one we cannot easily afford to avoid or care-lessly dismiss, if we intend to take prayer seriously or maintain a proper sense of its place and role in our daily lives. After all, why really are we called to pray? What, if anything, is truly and uniquely at stake in our prayer? Is there any reason to regard our own personal prayer as a matter of compelling urgency and real ne-cessity, or is the matter really more nugatory? Clearly, as Christians we are called to believe that our prayer is a meaningful, even indispensable activity, vital to the transformation and healing of all we know, and the realization of all we are made and hope for. But how do we justify such a belief? What is it about prayer that makes such claims credible? The answers to all of these questions are based in our recognition that in prayer something deeper and even more fundamental is at stake, some-thing in which all healing and human growth in wisdom and sanctity are rooted, and upon which all our hope depends. Like Christianity in general, and like God himself, prayer is pro-foundly paradoxical, and this is particularly true of the question at hand. 685 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Although we must acknowledge that prayer is the gift and activity of God attended to by sinners (that is, by persons whose lives are fundamentally marked and marred by fragmentation and alienation), we must also af-firm that the deeper truth is the paradox that prayer is primarily some-thing we undertake on God's own behalf, insofar as prayer is the experi-ence of God as the One he wishes to be for us. Quite simply, what is truly and uniquely at stake in our prayer, at each and every moment we pray, is nothing less than the life and destiny of God himself. As Chris-tians, as persons who pray--that is, as persons who share as heirs of God in the obedient Sonship of Jesus Christ, we do so primarily that God might truly be the Father he has willed to be from the beginning. This insight is easy to lose sight of, something that occurs particu-larly whenever God's paradoxical nature is obscured or forgotten, and an immutable or even (as commonly misunderstood) "triune" God is substituted for a Living One. Most of us are well aware that on the one hand, our God is the "High and Holy One," the one who reveals him-self in sovereignty and self-sufficiency. Indeed he is Yahweh, "the one who will be who (he) will be," ~ in absolute authority and awesome auton-omy. But this dominant Old Testament image is just one side of the para-dox whom we Christians know as God; and if on the one hand he is the High and Holy One who is absolutely self-sufficient, he is also the one who has determined not to remain so, but rather has resolved to make his own destiny subject to the responsiveness of his creation. Our God is on the one hand without beginning or end, absolutely self-sufficient, in need of no one and no thing. Yet on the other hand he has willed from all eternity not to remain alone but to turn to another--a person who will be his counterpart. He is the eternal decision to speak to this other and to hearken to the word which this other speaks. He is the eternal deci-sion to love this other and to accept this other's love. [The God of the New Testament] who is eternally self-sufficient wills not to be; God who is eternally of and for himself wills to be for another.2 This means quite simply that God has determined to be for us as well as dependent upon us. We must allow this determination to be realized, and let God be who he wills to be for us. This is indeed the most human thing we can do, just as it is the most loving. Those who truly appreci-ate that our own destiny is dependent upon the proper exercise of human freedom should not be surprised that God too is dependent upon it. In fact, we should be aware that the Christ event reveals that it is human freedom which is the true counterpart to divine omnipotence. For many, this will be an astounding assertion. However, if we reflect on precisely That God Might Be Father / 687 what occurred in the Christ event, perhaps this critical point will become more acceptable to most people. Certainly such reflection is necessary if we are to truly appreciate the importance and urgency of our prayer. It is true that in the Christ event--in the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus--God drew near to every moment and mood of his creation. This is truth but the truth cuts far more deeply than even this awesome reality. In the Christ event something absolutely s'ingular and unsurpassable occurred. For the first time in human history someone, in this case Jesus of Nazareth, in living a life wholly responsive to the God who would be Father, accomplished two things. In the first place, he lived the first genuinely human existence ever known in the history of humankind, and secondly, in his proper exercise of true human freedom he allowed God to become the Father he had willed to be from the be-ginhing. In the dialogue which existed between Father and Son, both hu-man and divine life reached a fullness for which they had yearned and groaned through time and eternity, the realization of human and divine destinies were forever linked, and divine omnipotence and human free-dom were inextricably wed as counterparts of one another. Nor is this all. In Jesus' resurrection from the dead, this abundant life was made a continuing and unconquerable reality in our world. It is in prayer that we enter most deeply into participation into this abundant life, and in prayer that Jesus' Sonship becomes our own and the Fatherhood of God is further realize~t. Through our participation in the Sonship of Jesus, we come to know genuine human life, and we become aware that it is a life characterized and constituted by an ongoing and all-consuming dialogue with the Fa-ther, who is in turn constituted as Father in this dialogue. In the Christ event Jesus responded to God as Son. He allowed God to be the author of his life, and he allowed God to be authored as Father in the process. Truly human existence is nothing less and nothing other than daughter-ship or sonship to the Living God whose own inner truth and dynamism is realized in Fatherhood. Prayer is simply and always the mutual out-working of these inextricably linked divine and human destinies. God is Father neither before, nor apart from, the response of Jesus as Son; neither is he our Father apart from our participation in that de-finitive Sonship which we call prayer. (Note well, in all of this it is im-portant that, according to the prologue to John's gospel, we are very clear that it is not the Logos that is Son; rather it is Jesus as Son in whom the Logos is incarnate. The two realities are quite different, and are often tragically confused. As the term is commonly but perhaps naively used, Review for Religious, September-October 1989 the Logos is "preexistent"; the Son is not, and whenever this confu-sion occurs, it becomes impossible to appreciate the true significance of the obedient Sonship of Jesus or of our own prayer.) Although he is the one "who will be who (he) will be," the God of the New Testament turns to the world as the one who would be Father, that is, as one who would find his counterpart and true completion in those who would turn in response as daughters and sons (that is, as those who are of him and from him) and, as one whose deepest identity would remain unrealized and unrealizable apart from this response. What are the implications of all this for our prayer? In the first place, we must concede that our prayer has real meaning and urgency, not only and not even primarily because we are saved through God's activity in our lives, but because in our prayer we concern ourselves with the very life of God. Whether or not prayer is a profound experience for Is, it is a significant experience for God since it is in prayer that he is allowed to achieve Fatherhood and truly realize himself. Whatever we perceive happening or not happening in our prayer, we must not lose sight of the fact of what does occur there. In prayer God is given the chance to love fully, and thus to fully be. It is not simply the'case that God is love; it is also true that in loving, God is (and it is this fact which allows us to speak of prayer in terms of the glorification or magnification of God). Prayer is possible only to the extent that our God has willed not to remain remote, that is, only to the extent that he has drawn near. But prayer is meaningful and necessary for the most part because the God who has refused to remain remote has also willed not to remain self-sufficient and has, in a very real way put his own destinyinto the hand of those to whom he would be Father, and whom he has thus willed re-spond to him as daughters and sons. Without our prayer, God remains the High and Holy One who has drawn near to us in all of life's moments and moods, but who remains deprived of real presence, and thus whose deepest will and identity remains unrealized and frustrated in our regard. It is particularly telling that the first word and entire Lord's Prayer is contained in the invocation "Father." Jesus' whole life and prayer, which were essentially synonymous, were devoted to allowing God's will to Fatherhood to be accomplished. Claiming this realization of the Fatherhood of God is the heart of all prayer. Allowing him to love us in the way he wills is the heart of all truly human activity. It is impor-tant that our prayer remain the God-centered activity it is meant to be. This is the reason Jesus gave his life and his way of praying as a "para-digm of perspective," and in fact, in what is most essentially and pro- That God Might Be Father 689 foundly the lesson of the New Testament, taught his followers to pray. We lose proper perspective if we forget that God has drawn near, but it is at least as tragic to forget that prayer is the way nearness is transformed into real presence. We said in an earlier essay3 that prayer begins, ends, and is sustained by our concern for and commitment to the life of God. Let us remember why we are present to him and what our appreciation of his nearness means for him, and may this knowledge sustain us in even the driest of moments. NOTES t The usual translation of "Yahweh" in Exodus 3:14 as "I am who am," or even the more cryptic "'I am" is inadequate insofar as it disregards the dynamic element, and promise of active and effective presence also contained in the Hebrew (see Ex 3:12). A better translation is "I will be who I will be". 2 Dwyer, John C., Son of Man attd Son of God, A New Language For Faith, (New York: Paulist Press, 1983). 3 O'Neal, Laurel M., "Prayer, Maintaining a Human Experience": R~.vl~.w R~.~.~¢~ous; Nov/Dec 1987, p. 883. Musing Fragile as a crisp autumn leaf, Hard as flint on flint, Soft as nestling down, Resilient as blue tempered steel-- You and I--this planet ours-- Cradled in God's tender arms Of Grace. Walter Bunofsky, S.V.D. 1446 E. Warne Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63107 Mary of Bethany-- The Silent Contemplative Carlos M. de Melo, S.J. Father Carlos de Melo, S.J. is professor emeritus of Canon Law and Spiritual The-ology at the Pontfical Athenaeum of Pune, India. His address is Papal Seminary; Nagar Road; Ramwadi; Pune 411 014 India. Teresa of Avila, that incomparable mistress of the spiritual life--"Mater spiritualium" as she is called in the inscription at the foot of her statue at St. Peter's, Rome--was never tired of repeating to her daughters of the Reformed Carmel that prayer is not so much a matter of much think-ing as of loving much.~ The soul of prayer is faith and love. Going through the gospels ! found this basic truth or principle beautifully illus-trated in the attitudes of Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, vis-~t-vis our Lord. Bethany is a small hamlet about three kilometers southeast of Jerusa-lem, separated from the capital by the Mount of Olives. Mary of Bethany appears in five places in the gospel narratives: I) Luke 10:38-42; 2) John 11 : 1-53; 3) John ! 2: i - l l ; 4) Mark 14:3-9; and 5) Matthew 26:6-13. The last three references cover one and the same episode, that of the supper at Bethany, in the house of Simon, the "leper." True, the material is not over abundant, yet it is sufficient enough to give us a fair idea of the personality, the mind and heart, the ways and attitudes, the character of this well-known biblical figure. However, I wish to bring out in this es-say one particular trait that distinguishes her, and that is her contempla-tive attitude of life, as it comes across to us in a striking manner in two of those passages--Luke i0 and Matthew 26 (see Jn 12; Mk 14). Symbol of Contemplative . Indeed, in these passages, Mary stands out before us as a symbol and 690 Mary of Bethany / 69"1 teacher of the contemplative life particularly inspiring and helpful to per-sons "consecrated to God," whether they live in convents and monas-teries or elsewhere in the world. She thus becomes our guide, silent yet sure, to a simple, intimate relationship with our divine Master, such as will not only bring us true fulfillment but can even radically transform our life. For, as the saying goes, tell me with whom you walk and I shall tell you what sort of a person you are. When did Mary first meet Jesus? In Luke 10 the new Rabbi figures as an already familiar guest in the house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, one whom they all highly esteemed, loved and revered, a dear friend whose visits were eagerly looked forward to and whom they welcomed with undisguised joy and profound satisfaction, as though they could never have enough of him. From him they held no secrets; they could share with him their every thought or sentiment, every joy or sorrow, and in him they were always sure to meet, in any life situation, under-standing, sympathy, guidance. First Meeting Decisive True, the gospels do not tell us when it was that Mary first met Je-sus. One thing, however, seems to be certain. Whatever might have been the time, place or occasion, that first meeiing was decisive in Mary's life; it made a lasting and ineffaceable impression on her youthful, sensitive nature. It reminds us of another such decisive encounter narrated in an-other gospel--that of the Master with the beloved disciple (Jn 1:35-39)-- one of those unforgettable events that make an impact for good and give a new turn to life. Like that of John, Mary's life, too, was deeply touched by her meeting with Jesus, for, from then on, that mysterious guest became as it were everything for her, the center of her thoughts, sentiments, deeds. It was as though interiorly taught from on high, Mary sensed in Jesus of Nazareth not only a new rabbi, or a great religious leader who taught as one having authority (Mt 7:29), who spoke as no man ever did (Jn 7:4-6), or even a worthy prophet like Moses, Isaias or Jeremias of old, but--in a way she herself was not able fully to under-stand or explain--the very incarnation of the Father of Israel, of Yah-weh himself, and at the same time, her own personal friend and guide-- her 'guruji' we might say, with all this term, and the reality it represents, means in Indian life and tradition. This explains Mary's unconditional surrender to him, her loving contemplation of him, her total openness and docility to his word, her silent "adoration"--attitudes proper to a creature before its God, its divine Lover. 692 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Lovable Character Mary is a lovable character--lovable because she is so

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

Issue 8.2 of the Review for Religious, 1949. ; A,M, D.G;. ~ Review for Religious MAR~H 15, 1949 Beginning Men÷al Prayer . Franc;s P. LeBuffe Nearness of God . : Pafr~ck F. Murray Confidence in God . Edward J. Carney Penitential Insfrumen÷s . Winfrld Herbsf The Hundredfold . Edward Sfanfon Prudence . Albed" Munfsch Adapfafion " J. Cre~sen Book Reviews Communications Questions Answered VOLUME VIII NUMBER 2 .,~ RI::VIi::W FOR RI::LI IOUS VOLUME VIII MARCH, 1949 NUMBER CONTENTS BEGINNING BEGINNERS IN MENTAL PRAYER-- Francis P. LeBuffe, S.J . 57 COMMUNICATIONS . 61 FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 62 THE NEARNESS OF GOD--Patrick F. Murray, S.J . 63 CONFIDENCE IN GOD--Edward d. Carney., O.S.F.S . 70 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 72 RE: PENITENTIAL INSTRUMENTS --- Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. 73 CANONICAL LEGISLATION CONCERNING RELIGIOUS . 79 ~FHE HUNDREDFOLD---Edward Stanton, S.J . 80 PRUDENCE--A NECESSARY VIRTUE--Albert Muntsch, S.J. 82 ADAPTATION~J.Creusen, S.J . 86 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Lord's Sermon on the Mount;' You Can Change the World . . 96 BOOK NOTICES . 99 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 101 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 8. Shortening Canonical Year of Novitiate . 105 9. Postulant Cannot Take Vows on Deathbed . 106 10. Novice under Tw.enty-one Makes Will . , . 107 11. Supplyirig Absence from Meditation . 107 12. Typewritten Annals . 108 13. Use of Cuttings from Altar Breads . 108 14. Published Lists of Apostolic Indulgences . 108 15. Indulgences: for Rosary before Blessed Sacrament; for Renewal of Vows after Holy Communion . 108 16". Negro Candidates for Sisterhoods . 109 17. Trappistine Convent in the United States . 110 REPRINT SERIES . 112 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1949. Vol. VIII, No. 2. Published bi-, monthly: January, March, May, July, September and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's Co!lege, St. Mary's, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Of~ce, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis,'S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. Schneider, S.J. Copyright, 1949, by Adam C. Ellis.Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be gi~;en this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writln~j to us. please consult notice on inside" back cover. Beginning Beginners in/V en!:al Prayer Francis P. LeBuffe, S.J. MANY of our Sisters, Brothers, and priests know little about" mental prayer, and the majority of them find it difficult. These are facts, and we would do well to face them. It has long been a settled conviction with me that the major cause of thi~ situation is that they have been started off wrongly. This conviction is based on personal observation and on the experience of others, and not on armchair thinking, though I think we might arrive at the same conclusion by that method also. During my thirty-three years of priesthood I have had more or less continual opportunities to know the Sisters and their ways of spiritual living, and have enjoyed the confidencesof many in low and high positions. Moreover for sixteen years it has been my privilege to give a six-hour course .of lectures on mental prayer in the Summer School of Catholic Action. This is a completely elementary course, presup-posing no knowledge of mental prayer and outlining only the bare essentials. Yet time and again trained religious and deeplyspiritually-minded priests have commented on the help they. have gained from it. I always remember the remark of a solidly trained religious, a mem-ber of one of our finest Sisterhoods: "Father, this is the first time I ever knew what it was all about." What a tragedy back of that remark ! I think the major mistakes are that we begin beginners with too long a period of mental prayer, and, secondly, we do not give them adequate or proper instruction about mental prayer before they begin. Let me first discuss the" amount of mental prayer expected of beginners in the postulancy, novitiate, or seminary. Frequently they are asked to begin with a half-hour or even a full hour. It would seem that either is far too long. Why? Because they know little about the principles of religious or seminary life, and not much more than generalities about the life of Our Lord. Being thus ignorant, how can they develop these thoughts and make reasonable application to themselves? Even on the "affective" side, their emo-tions and acts of the will have not solid enough ground on which to be based. i am always reminded of a certain Brother-postulant who had 57 FRANCIsP. LEBUFFE Reoieta for Religious been one of the last pony-express riders of the Rockies. "Points" on th~ Hidden Life had been given the night before by a priest, and the next morning Brother John put in his full hour of meditation. Later on in the day, however, he buttonholed a Brother novice: "Say, let me ask you a question. Father told us last night to ask ourselves three questions in meditation. I remembered the questions and so I asked myself. 'Who done it?' I knew the answer: 'The Lord.' 'What did He do?' I knew that answer too: 'He did carpenter, work.' 'How did He do it?' Well, anybody would know that being the Lord He done it superfine. That took me two minutes. Say what did you guys do with the other 58 minutes?" In mental prayer, we "chew the cud"--I am talking now of dis-cursive prayer, where most beginners begin--and the "cud" to be chewed is our knowledge of things spiritual. Let's face facts and realize that beginners have little or no "cud" to chew--and it is pre-cisely for that reason they are beginners. They are quite in the same position for spiritual meditation as most of us are for a meditation on atom fission. Like Brother John if I w~re to meditate on the atomic bomb, I'd ask myself "What does it mean?" Answer: "Splitting the atom." Period. Because of this, it would seem wise to start" beginners off with the easiest form of mental prayer: meditative reading. Father Lind-worsky, S.J., in his Ps~jcbolog~ of Asceticism, characterizes it as a much-neglected way of .meditating. The advantage of beginning with this simplest form is that it provides the beginner with continuous food for thought; or, to change the metaphor, it provides a continuing anchor for his thinking. From meditative reading the beginner could pass on to that age-. old form of meditation wherein we take each word or phrase of a prayer and try to dig out and spread out the thought that lies hidden therein. Thus we can take the Our Father, meditating on the word "father" and all that it implies, and then checking our findings with all these qualities we find in God. Next, the word "our" with' all "its implications of universal brotherhood. All the while, of course, we warm our hearts and intersperse our thinking with the affective prayer of will and emotions. Of course it is highly advisable to have beginners meditate as soon as possible on the life of Our Lord, for that is truly "the customary food of a devout soul." But here again we must fit the meditation to the one meditating. Most Catholics who have had a Catholic 58 March, 1949 BEGINNING IN MENTAL PRAYER education, can meditate profitably for at least a few minutes on Bethlehem, the Shepherds, the Magi, the Agony in the Garden, the Crucifixion, and so forth. But once they get away from the big, well-known my'steries, their minds are either a completely blank page ¯ or they indulge in specfilations which may be entirely awry or at variance with the true doctrine enshrouded in the mystery. We don't ask high school students to write college essays, and we don't ask college students to write doctorate dissertations. Why then ask of beginners in the spiritual life what can reasonably be expected only of maturer religious? We are not, of course, discounting the workings of grace whereby God can and does freely grant a real gift of prayer to one yet unschooledin asceticism. Nor are we demanding a deal of learned knowledge for meditatiton. Our contention is simply this, that barring an unusual grace from God it is bard to amplify a thought if one hasn't got a thought. The lack of proper instruction preparatory to all attempt at meditation is, as I see it, the second'cause of the deplorable mental-prayer condition among religious and priests. If we begin with the simpler forms of mental prayer, no lengthy instruction is needed. The best way to instruct is to make the medi- ¯ ration out loud with the beginners. Many rules are quite unneces-sary. The instructor meditates aloud with them, always using the personal pronoun "I" and meditating as though he were a postulant, novice, or seminarian himself. This gives "audience identifica-tion" and soon his voice becomes their own audible thinking. ~/Thus Ican beginwithten minutes meditativereading. I read sentence, think it over aloud. Read another sentence and think it over aloud, frequently chatting it out with Our Lord in my own simple way and telling Him exactly how I feel about it. Utter simplicity should be stressed. Time and again I have bad students in the mental prayer classes tell of their suprise and comfortwhen they realized for the first time that they could talk with God exactly as they felt, no matter what their mood, and exactly as they would with mother, father, or any human friend. It makes one wonder whether we have not overformalized our praying and constructed too compli-cated. a machinery for our approach to God. Prayer is truly "rever-ent intimacy with God." I am afraid we have been stressing the "reverent" rather than the "intimacy." That may have been well enough in Old Testament times amid the thunders and lightnings of 59 FRANCIS P. LEBUFFE Revieu., for Rel[qious Sinai, but it does not quite fit in with the called-for approach to the Babe of Bethlehem or the Man of Sorrows. Again, as to the amount of time, it would seem to be wiser to begin with not more than ten minutes a day for at least the first two weeks or longer. Thereafter increase to fifteen minutes a day for another two weeks (or longer). Remember mental prayer is like olives: one must develop a taste and relish for it. In the courses on mental prayer I have always restricted the time of each little medita-tion to three or four minutes. Thus young people are not bored and they find out practically that something worth while can be done in even a few minutes. Only recently I talked on mental prayer to the sodalists of the School of Business Administration of Fordham Uni-versity. I bad time to make only three three-minute meditations with them. The sodallsts were motionless: one could have heard a pin drop. At the end the prefect, a young man, in closing the meeting said: "I never knew prayer could be so warm and natural." Years ago in Chicago at.a S.S,C.A. a U.S. sailor said to me: "Father, this mental prayer is wonderful. It is as refreshing as a glass of cold water from a spring!" The sad result of a bad start in meditat, ing either from an over-dose or lack of proper preliminary instruction is a complete floun-dering in a vacuum of thoughtlessness. And the sadder result is that having made a bad start afloundering, the religious or priest con-tinues for a long time to flounder in a vacuity. It might be well to add two further remarks. The way, of course,, to remedy the beginner's lack of spiritual knowledge is to give him heavy doses of spiritual reading, using only time-tested masters in the spiritual life and lives of Christ which are thoroughly authentic, such as for example, Maas, Fouard, Mescbler,-Le Camus. Fluffy-ruffle spiritual books should find no room on the library shelves of novitiates and seminaries. Spiritually well-read and hence well-fed religious and seminarians will soon have an ample "cud" whereon to chew. Another thing is.to remember that we Americans find thinking difficult. Give us something to do and we are happy. Ask us to remain qui~t and think--well, we soon get restless or go to sleep. (That native trait may be a far deeper cause of our poverty in mental prayer, than the more evident ones I have mentioned.) When thinking of some of our meditations and meditators, I am reminded of the story told by Father William Stanton, S.J. While giving a 6O March, 1949 COMMUNICATIONS mission in a village, he went down to the country store and started chatting with the "regulars" sitting akound the store stove. "What do you men do all day? . Well, Parson, sometimes we sets and thinks, and sometimes we only sets." Wouldn't that label truly many of our meditations? Can't we remedy it? Communica!:ions Reverend Fathers : It occurred to me as I read in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the discus-sions about worldliness in religious communities that a convent is the best place on earth in which to make a study of unworldliness. From the moment the rising bell rings at the unworldly hour of five in all kinds of weather until taps at ten at night the Sisters have been "on. call." Look at the day's agenda: morning meditation, Holy Mass, breakfast in silence, teaching or nursing duties until lunch time and again until afternoon prayer and spiritual reading, supper in silence, a short recreation period in a common room, study, night prayer-- everything on schedule for nine months of the year. Into the summer vacation are crowded an eight-day retreat, six weeks of summer school either as teachers or students, or teaching a vacation school in a rural district preparing children for first Com-munion and confirmation. This is the routine followed by Sisters who live in colleges, academies, hospitals, parochial school residences, orphan homes. Wherever the Sister's assignment is, her day is a long one and entirely out of harmony with the 44-hour week of women in the world. Sisters haven't time to be worldly. They surely are not worldly in their attire. Their uniforms were not designed for either b~auty or comfort. They are not usually known by their worldly names. The names they are known by are often not their choice, and many times they are not euphonious. They do riot attend worldly amusements. They probably see during the course of the year five or six carefully selected movies in their college or academy hall. Their convent parties are strictly exclusive and unworldly. Now all this does not go to prove that Sisters are ready-made saints. They are human; and it is amazing how, living the common life, each one retains her own individuality through all the years allotted to her. It is my firm conviction that the number of worldly Sisters in any community is a small minority. The rank and file of all Sisters are carrying the sweet yoke of Christ bravely and sweetly.~A SISTER (Golden Jubilarian) 61 Your lnr orrnaUon Reprint Series The last page (112) of the present number carries a definite an-nouncement of the reprint series that was suggested tentatively in No-vember, 1948. We delayed in making this announcement ii~ the hope. that we might find a distributor for the booklets, as we are not equipped for that kind of work. Up to this time, however, we have been unsuccessful in our quest for a satisfactory distributing plan; hence we will do the best we can. Because of our lack of facilities, xve must insist that those who order booklets carefully observe the direc-tions outlined on page 11 Please note the differences between the reprints now available and those listed as tentative in November. Number 2 on that list was made up of articles on the novitiate. Requests for those articles were not sufficient to warrant our reprinting them; in their place we are reprinting the articles on Gifts to Religious by Father Ellis. Number 3 on the tentative llst was to consist of four articles by Father Kelly (two on emotional maturity, and two on the particular friendship). As two of these articles are comparatively short, we have decided to add a fifth article (on Vocational Counseling). This first edition of the reprints is merely an experiment. We are printing only a limited number; and we do not intend to print more unless it becomes quite evident that the project is really worth while. If you wish copies, it would be well to send your order immediately. Summer Sessions . The Sisters of St. Francis of Assisi will conduct a six weeks' sum-mer session, under the auspices of the Cardinal Stritch College, Mil-waukee, for Sisters who are interested in. the care and education of mentally handicapped children. Enrollment limited. Apply to: The Psychological Instiiute, St. Coletta School for Exceptional Chil-dren, Jefferson, Wisconsin. Immaculate Heart College, Los Angeles, California, offers the following special summer features: Reading Clinic for Elementary Teachers; Workshop in High School Administration; Series of Courses on St. Thomas Aquinas; Audio Visual Education; Cerema-ics; The Great Books Program; All-day Conference for Teachers of [Continued on 13. II1] 62 The Nearness of God Patrick F. Murray, S.3. iN OUR DAILY religious life, with its care and duties as well as its monotony, it is so easy to lose sight of the grand purpose of our consecrated lives. We know that deep down within our souls there is a quiet and profound love for Our Lord that has ever been, and still is, the motivating power that keeps us going from day to day. "I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me," as St Paul has expressed it; or again, "The charity of Christ drives us on." But amid the din and confusion a'nd cares that every day brings with it, it is quite easy to become entangled with so many visible duties that they gradually tend to obscure the silent flame of love within our hearts. They would extinguish it altogether if we did .not keep it alive with unrelenting effort in prayer. Constant prayer is the only fuel that can make it burn brightly so that it in turn will continue to motivate our actions in God's service. Great Appeal of Sensible Things The great appeal of things visible is something that everyone who would lead a spiritual life must struggle against constantly. We know that we love Our I, ord. We are eager to work to prove our love, because love proves itself in deeds, But we are so very much creatures of sense. It is so easily possible tolose our clear vision and to become so interested in the work we are doing to prove our love, that soon we come to find ourselves working because we have come to love the task given us rather than because we love our Divine Master. Before we know it, we are seeking praise and honor for our work instead of seeking tl~e praise and the honor of His Divine Majesty, as we started out to do. Our motivation has changed and our super-natural vision has dimmed by constant contact with the visible things around us. With God's gtrace and with constant effort we have to recall painfully that we are not working for a corruptible crown nor for a visible reward; but we are striving for an incorruptible crown from the loving hands of a still invisible Master. Highlg Recommended Practice lOne of the most highly recommended ways of keeping ourselves 63 PATRICK F. MURRAY Re~;iew for Religious on the path of perfection and of keeping our intention pure in God's service is to cultivate the habit of consciously living and working in His divine presence. He is present anyway, whether we think of Him or not; but it will help so very much if we can come to realize His nearness, for "in Him we live, and move, and have our being" (Acts 17:28). There is no point of our spiritual life more important; there is no easier means of personal sanctification : no means that can be more efficacious; no supernatural truth more fruitful in its results than an abiding and vitalizing sense of His divine nearness. Reward of Angels and Practice of Saints The angels in heaven are very fortunate. They stood up under .trial when the rebel angels fell. Now, while Lucifer and his followers burn for all eternity, the faithful angels possess what we are trying attain--the happiness of being with God forever. The saints are there too; and because they stood up under this trial which we call life, they share the bliss of the angels. The happiness of both the angels and saints in heaven consists in actuallyseeing and enjoying the infinite beauty of God in all the splendor of His divine majesty. Our Lord speaking of the angels said, "Their angels see the face of my Father in heaven" (Matt. 18:10). Among the saints of the Old Testament, a common manner of speaking was ever: "A~ the Lord liveth, in whose presence I stand" (III Kings 17:1). This practice was habitual with them as well as with the saints of the New Law. As David put it: "I kept the Lord ever before my eyes, because He is ever at my right hand, that I may not slip" (Ps. 15:8). Our Reward Also God created us so that someday we might come to stand eternally before Him in heaven and enjoy the sight of Him for all eternity. In this life He would have us attain to some kind of resemblance of that eternal happiness. This we can do by consciously walking in His presence, even though as in the twilight rather than in the full bright-ness of the eternal day. "Now I see as in a glass, in a dark manner; then we shall see Him face to face" (I Cot. 13:12). The. clear vision is the reward, the glory, the happiness that we hope for now. Walking in a spirit of faith in His presence, even though as "in a glass in a dark manner," is one of our best guarantees that we shall eventually come to see Him "face to face." Where Is God? The first wrong idea that we must rid ourselves of is that God is 64 March, 19 4 9 THE NEARNESS OF GOD somewhere away up in the heavens beyond the farthest star; or tha~ He is in some unattainable place that we cannot begin to approach in this life; that He is inaccessible. Of all the beings in existence, God is the easiest to contact. He is right here where you are this very moment, and at the same time He is in every conceivable place in the whole vast range of creation. He fills the whole world. "Do I not fill heaven and earth" (Jer. 23:24) ? He is whole in the world, and whole in every part of the world, no matter how large or how small. He is outside us, within us, all about us. We are living in God; not as part of Him (that would beto fall into the error of pantheism), .but as St. Paul tells us: "He is not far from each of us, since in Him we live, and move, and have our being" (Acts 17:27-28). The classic expression of this magnificent truth is David's: "Whither shall I go from Thy spirit; or whithe? shall I flee from Thy face? If I ascend into heaven Thou art there; if I descend into hell Thou art present. If I take wings early in the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, Even there shall thy hand guide me, and thy right hand sustain me. Perhaps darkness shall cover me . But darkness shall not be dark to Thee, and night shall be as light as day." (Ps. 138:7-12.) God is more intimately present to us than we are to ourselves. He is the source of all life; the basic strength of all power; the source of all being and all existence. If it were not" for His omnipotence sus-taining us and every other creature, we would all fall back into the nothingness from which we were made. We are sustained by God, surrounded by God, encompassed by God. Some Comparisons The whole world is full of His presence. St. Augustine tries to give us some idea of what'this means by the illustration of a sponge in the midst of the ocean. It is surrounded by water; soaked with ¯ water, inside and out. But this comparison falls short of the manner in which God is present to us, because the sponge may sink to the bot-tom or be washed ashore; but we can never, in any way, get out of the presence of God. He is immense and infinite as well as omni-present. He is a pure spirit and penetrates us through and through-- something like light filling every particle of a crystal ball; or like an iron bar that has been thrust into the fire and heated to such a degree that it is almost impossible to differentiate the fire from the heated bar. It is white hot and looks more like a bar of fire than a bar of 65 PATRICK F. MURRAY Review [or Religious iron. But God is still more present within us, and to every one of His creatures. Sucb comparisons merely serve to give us some faint idea of the rehlity. God Is Present to Our Eoer~l Thought It is very difficult for the limited human mind to grasp such a concept. We cannot even begin to imagine the nature of such a Being who can be present at all times to every one of His creatures no matter how far apart they may be. Cardinal Wiseman brings this truth out very strikingly in his book Fabiola. In a beautiful passage Syra, the Christian slave, tries to explain the presence of God to bet young mis-tress, Fabiola. "Simple as light is His nature," she says, "one and the same everywhere, indivisible, ubiquitous, unlimited. He existed long before there was any beginning. He wil, l, exist after all ending has ceased. Power, wisdom, goodness, 16ve,--justice, too, and unerring judgment,--belong to His nature and are as unlimited and unrestrained as it. He alone can create; he alone preserve; He alone destroy." But then Syra goes on to the point that is more intimately con-cerned with our consideral~ion. She tells bet young mistress that to watch and note the l~hougbts and actions of every one of His creatures requires no effort or causes no trouble for this Infinite, Being, far less than the trouble it takes for the sun to light up with its ranis whatever it shines on. God is more intimately present to every one of His crea-tures and to the entire universe than light is to the rays of the sun. After pondering these thoughts, no wonder that Fabiola cries out: "What an awful thought t, hat one has never been, alone, has never had a wish to oneself, has never had a single thought in secret, has never hidden the most foolish fancy of a proud and childish brain from the observation of One who knows no imperfection. Terrible thought,.,that one is living ever under the steady gaze of an all-seeing Eye, of~hich the sun is but a shadow, for the sun never enters the soul!" (Ch. 16.) Source of Strength God, therefore, is everywhere; and yet He is so near. No matter what we think, He knows it. No matter what we say, He hears it. No matter what we do, He sees it. This is a thought that can be as consoling for those who sincerely try to serve Him as it can be terrible forthe most secret sinner. A deep realization of God's presence is a source of strength for souls who are naturally timid. Encircled by 66 March, 1949 THE NEARNESS OF GOD His loving presence they are able to present to the world that won-derful combination of timidity and moral courage which can belong to the Christian heart alone. Frequently, such is the explanation of unexpected strength of character in men and women who are not by nature strong and independent; yet when the occasion arises they are able to stand up under very difficult circumstances. They are quietly strong and self-possessed in their deep realization that of themselves they are nothing, 'but God is their'strength and their power. Special Graces of Saints Some of the great saints received special graces which enabled them to imagine Our Lord ever at their side under one form or another, such as Jesus Crucified, or in the power and glory of His resurrection. It requires special graces to carry on with such efforts of the imagination. But for ordinary souls, such efforts of the imagina-tion are not at all necessary. Spirit of Faith Is Necessary All that is really necessary is to accept in a spirit of simple faith that God is present and interested in absolutely everything we do, for such is the truth. Christ Our Lord, as Man, is present in heaven and in the Blessed Sacrament. But as Man, He is not present everywhere. ¯ As Man, He has a definite form and body, and we can imagine how He must have looked when He was on earth. He is also God as well as Man. But God, as God, cannot be imagined. He is a pure Spirit. "No one has ever seen God at any time. The only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, He has revealed Him." (John 1:18.) "The spirit of the Lord has filled the round of the earth" (Wis. 1:7). There is no need to imagine what is not. All that is necessary is simply to believe what is. Simple faith in God's presence is all that is needed ! How in Actual Practice But how is this to work out in actual practice? In his Epistle to the Hebrews, St. Paul says of Moses: "God being invisible, he con-sidered Him as present as if he saw Him" (Heb. 11:27). It is some-thing like being in a very dark room with another person present. We cannot see him, but we know that he is there. He makes his presence known by his actionsfrom time to time. We can know God by faith and by His works. "We see now in a dark manner"; so we may con-sider in a spirit of simple faith that God is present. It is enough to 67 PATRICK F:. MURRAY know that He is here as our most loving Father and Friend, to rejoice in His presence no matter where we may be, no matter what we may be doing at the moment. We cannot see how He is present because we are still in the darkness of this life. We must live with faith in His presence and with hope that on the morrow of eternity He will discover Himself to us in all the magnificence of His divine majesty; and we shall see Him as He is. "When He shall appear, then we shall be like to Him: because we shall see Him as He is" (I John 3:2). Acts of Desire and Looe Most Necessary It is not enough to know that God is ever present to us. We must let such knowledge flow over into acts of the will, into personal acts of desire and love for Him. When we adore Our Lord present in the Blessed Sacrament we do not spend a lot of time trying to figure out how He is present. It is the same with this exercise of taking advan-tage of God's nearness to us. We take it on faith that He is present and walk lovingly in His company. So we "go about our daily duties with a greater zest and cheerfulness, knowing that we are performing every action of the day in His divine presence; knowing, too, that He realizes we are doing our every act, no matter how big or how little, out of love for Him alone. Our reflection from time to time on His presence is a greater incentive to do all things as perfectly as pos-sible with the help of His grace. "Whether you eat or drink, or what-ever else you do, do it all for the glory of God" (I Cot. 10:31). Pray Atu)a~ls Once Our Lord said: "We must always pray, and never give up" (Luke 18: I). There would seem to be no better manner of carrying out this wish of Our Lord than ever walking in His presence, doing all things out of love for Him alone. As St. Paul expresses it: "You are no longer strangers and for-eigners, but fellow citizens of the saints, and domestics of the house of God" (Eph. 2: 19). By living in such a spirit all our dealings and conversation can become a thing not of this earth but of heaven. And we carry out St. Paul's ~urther advice: "Fixing our gaze not on the things that are seen, but on the things that are not seen; for the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are unseen are eternal" (II Cor. 4:18). Strength in Temptation Further, we must remember that when we act. in this way, we must not consider God Our Father at some great distance from us, 68 March, 1949 THE NEARNESS OF GOD watching us. He is actually present and interested in everything we do. This makes the practice easy and sweet, and helps us to be on the alert to find new ways to please Him. It is also a great h~lp in temp-tation to realize that He sees us and knows our inmost thoughts and the depths of our souls, reading there the amount of true sincerity we have in trying to overcome the temptations that bother us. He knows our strength and our weakness, and is ever present to help us. It is always a good thing to recall that every temptation takes place in the very presence of God : that every sin takes place right in' His very pres-ence. And when we overcome a temptation and prove our love, we do that, too, right in His very presence; and we are sure of a reward for every battle fought and won for His love. In temptation, call to mind such texts as: "Come to my help, O God; O Lord, make haste to defend me" (Ps. 69:2). Or again, such aspirations as: "O God, my Strength, strengthen me! . Never per-mit me, dear God, to offend Thee." "0 God, may I die rather than offend Thee !" Kinds of Pra~jers to God Present The best and most effectual aspirations, whether in time of temp-tion or in time of loving conversation with God, are those which our own hearts conceive, moved by His grace. In our ordinary prayers or conversations with God so near to us, we should speak about even the most trivial things and the most intimate things as'though with a friend. It is not at all necessary to have a great number of prayers; nor is strain of any kind necessary. One short prayer, provided it expresses the thoughts of our souls, can be r~peated over and over again, and is sufficient. Or again, a Gospel text from the morning meditation repeated over and over again is very pleasing to God, because He knows that you mean it as words of simple and sincere love as you move about on the rounds of your daily life and work in His loving presence. "For what have I in heaven? And besides Thee, what do I desire on earth? For Thee my flesh and my heart have fainted away. Thou art the God of my heart, the God who is my portion forever." (Ps. 72:25-26.) 69 Confidence in God Edward J. Carney, O.S.F.S. WHENEVER his security is threatened, man experiences fear, and he attempts to escape, if possible, the impending evil. Properly controlled this emotion plays an important and use-ful part in developing the 'human personality. For example, one who did not fear the rapidly moving vehicles at a busy traffic intersection would regret his rashness. It is natural, then, for a man to experience fear under certain circumstances. Even Our Lord feared the death decreed for him: "And he took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee; and he began to be distressed and discouraged. Theri he said to them, 'My soul is sorrowful unto death.' " (Matt. 26:37- 38.) Fear, however, very frequently exceeds its proper limits. An excellent example of this is the worry and anxiety that trouble many" areligious. In a life dedicated to God through renunciation of the world there must be difficulties. Sometimes these are of great con-sequence; more often than not they are the minor crosses ot~ daily life experienced even by lay people. An improper viewpoint in meeting them, consisting in too little confidence in God, destroys the religious' perspective. Hi~ fear becomes pronounced, manifests itself in worry and anxiety, and makes him doubtful of success in his chosen w'ay of life. Some examples from Holy Scripture will help illustrate these points. Lack of faith in God begets fear. When the storm at sea threat-ened to overwhelm their boat, the disciples awakened Jesus, saying: " 'Lord, save us! we are perishing!' And he saith to them, 'Why are ye afraid, O ye of little faith?' " (Matt. 8:i5-26.) This fear coming from mistrust of God's providence makes a man doubtful of his ability to face a situation. "And Peter answered and said to him, 'Lord, if it be thou, bid me come to thee upon the waters.' And he said, 'Come.' And Peter went down from the boat and walked upon the waters and came unto Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was struck with fear; and beginning to sink, he cried out, saying, 'Lord, save me.' And straightway Jesus stretched forth his hand and took hold of him, and he saith to him, 'O thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt?'" (Matt. 14:28-31.) 70 CONFIDENCE IN GOD An analysis of excessive fears and anxieties will undoubtedly dis-close that insufficient trust in God is a partial cause. The religious fears the demar~ds of obedience, a new charge, a new assignment. "Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?" Beset by temptations against the vow of chastity the religious questions his strength. "Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?" The mental serenity of the religious is disturbed by daily problems. "Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?" If mistrust of God's providence produces fear and worry, trust in God is accompanied by courage and peace. When the apostles cried out in fear as they saw Christ walking on the sea, 3esus immediately spoke to them, saying: "Be of good heart; it is I, fear not" (Matt. 14:27), After the Resurrection the apostles were gathered together in the upper room. Suddenly 3esus stood among them and said: "Peace be to you! It is I. Be not afraid." (Luke 24:36.) The quality of this faith or trust inGod is also indicated by Christ: "And 3esus answering saith to them, 'Have faith in God. Amen I say to you, whoever saith to this mountain, "Be thou lifted up and cast into the sea," and doubteth not in his heart, but believeth that what he saith is to come to pass, it shall be done for him. Wherefore I say to you, whatsoever things ye ask for in prayer, believe that ye have received them, and they shall come unto .you.' " (Mark 11:22-24.) A religious who allows fear and doubt to color his life may unconsciously make the mistake of believing his problems either too great or too small for God's consideration. If he believes they are too great, he approaches God halfheartedly. Reflection on some passages from the New Testament will convince such a person that the miracles of Christ were performed for those who believed in him. Hence even the greatest difficulties are not insurmountable when a person turns to God in loving faith and confidence. Faith in Christ obtained the cure of the paralytic: "And 3esus, seeing their faith, said to the paralytic, 'Be of good heart, my child; thy sins are forgiven' " (Matt. 9:2). It was a means of res'toring sight to the blind: "And 3esus saith to them, 'Believe ye that I can do this?' They say to him, 'Yea, Lord.' Then he touched their eyes, saying, 'Be it done to you according to your faith.' " (Matt. 9:28-29.) It was required of a father before his child was brought back to life: "But ~lesus, overhearing what was said, saith to the president, 'Fear not, only believe!' . . . And taking the child by the hand he saith to her. 'Maiden, I say to thee, arise!' And straightway the maiden rose and walked." (Mark 5:36-42.) It 71 EDWARDJ. CARNEY won divine pardon for a hardened sinner: "And he said, 'Jesus, remember me when thou comest in thy kingdom.' And he said to him, 'Amen I si~y to thee, this day thou shalt be with me in para-dise.' " (Luke 23:42-43.) Not only .the great events of life but even the smallest detail falls under God's providence. "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them falleth to the ground without your Father. But as for you, the very hairs of your hexd are all numbered. Wherefore fear ye not; ye are of greater worth than many sparrows." (Matt. 10:29-31.) "And he said unto his disciples, 'Therefore I say to you, be not anxious about your life, what ye are to eat; nor for your body, how ye are to be clothed. For the life is more than the food, and the body more than the clothing. Consider the ravens, how th~y sow not nor reap, neither have they store-room or barn, and God feedeth them. Of how much greater worth are ye than the birds~ If then the grass in the field, which today liveth and tomorrow is to be cast into the oven; God doth so array, how much more you, of little faith! Seek ye not therefore what you are to eat and what you are to drink . . . your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of these things. But seek ye his kingdom, and these things shall be added unto you.'" (Luke 12:22-31.) This trust in God presupposes resignation to God's will. It ever bears in mind that God is far more effective in directing human events than man, that what seems an evil on the natural plane may really be a means of advancing in God's grace if accepted with the proper spir-itual dispositions. Thus in turning away from unnecessary fears and worries it does not fall into the fault of presumption. Rather it con-ditions the religious to view all things in their proper perspective and to avoid unnecessary fear by turning to God in confidence and resig-nation. It eliminates doubt, anxiety, and worry, and allows the reli-gious to face life at peace with himself and with God. OUR CONTRIBUTORS EDWARD J. CARNEY is superior of the House of Studies of the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales, Washington, D.C. J. CREUSEN. well-known authority on canon law, is a professor at the Gregorian University, Rome. WINFRID HERBST, writer, retreat master, is on the faculty of the Salvatorian 'Seminary, St. Nazianz, Wisconsin. FRANCIS P. LEBUFFE, for many years on the staff of America, is at present engaged in Sodality work in the East. ALBERT MUNTSCH is a professor of sociology a-nd philosophy at St. Louis University. PATRICK F. MURRAY is a mem-ber of the Jesuit Mission Band of the Maryland Province. EDWARD STANTON is completing his theological studies at Weston College, Weston, Massachusetts. 72 Re: Penitential Instruments Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. IN A DRAWER in my desk I have a large candy box containing an assortment of penitential instruments, to wit: one large hair shirt made of sterilized horsehair and one hair waistband of the same material; one large and 6ne small discipline made of Spanish hemp as well as one plain and one studded discipline made Of small but e~- cient steel chains; one waist chain and one arm chain made of stainless steel wire, the points of which will bear a bit of filing flat lest they pierce the skin. The set is purely for purposes of study and demon-stration-- visual instruction of a rare kind. Many religious (dare I say "most"?) have never seen the like. I confess that the very feel of some of them makes me shudder; and a young novice who saw them for the first time turned pale, grew weak at the sight, and, knowing that discretion is the better part of valor, sat down on a convenient chair. Among the instruments in this formidable collection (and I sup-pose there are other styles and varieties) I look upon the steel chains and the steel disciplines, especially the studded discipline, as the most dangerous, as apt to cause wounds that in our day of germs could easily lead to infection and medical care. The chains should never be so sharp-pointed as to pierce the skin and should be worn only for brief periods of an hour or so at a time and when one is at ease, as during meditation; and should invariably be removed when one is going to be in any way actively engaged. And the steel-pointed dis-cipline, to my mind, should be used only for display purposes, to show that modern man is not as thick-skinned as his ancestors were. The large hair shirt and the hair band cause me less perturbation. Both can be worn for brief periods, not to exceed an hour, let us say, unless one finds that it is injurious, causing subsequent rash, itch, and so forth. The waistband may be worn over the skin but the large hair shirt is better worn over the underwear or even over the shirt. The one in my collection is a wicked thing and reminds you quite insistently that you are a poor sinner even when worn in this com-promise manner. The hempen disciplines are the simplest and safest instruments in ¯ my interesting collection, provided one reasonably limits the strokes, 73 WINFRID HERBST Ret~iew for Religious both as regards number and force, and lets them fall discreetly on that portion of the body which can best take punishment without real injury, where the proverbial dad (now outdated too) applied the ; strap out in. the woodshed. Those are just my ideas, of course; others may think otherwise but not necessarily so wisely. And I know of religious who have used even the chains (points filed fia!!) regularly several times a week for years and never a bit of harm did it do them, though it was real penance, especially the putting on of the clammy thing on a cold win-ter morning ! Before I go any further, I wish it to be distinctly understood, as shall be several times repeated, that none of the above penitential instruments or others like them may be used without special permis-sion from one's confessor or spiritual director--permission as regard:~ manner of use and length of time--permission that is given only after due discussion of all the factors involved. It is, of course, quite evi-dent that this permission is not necessary in those institutes which prescribe such penances by rule or by legitimate custom, unless it is ,expressly mentioned in the constitutions that one must, even in the case of custom, have the confessor's permission. Nor does this per-mission seem to be necessary for a very moderate occasional use (by way of experiment, for instance), unless.it is evident from the pre-vailing practice of the institute that nothing at all of this nature "may be done without spiritual direction. The question now arises: Is the use of these penitential instru-ments to be recommended at all? That depends. If you are an utterly unmortified religious, an unobservant religious, one who is not even making an attempt to keep the ordinary constitutions-- the answer is, no! You have many more important mortifications to practice before you even attempt these supererogatory practices. You should remember that no source of mortification is more efficacious, universal, and secure than the perfect observance of the holy rule, that its observance is surer and more meritorious than any self-chosen penance. If, however, you are a truly observant religious and are doing all your state of life demands as perfectly as possible--the answer is, yes, with due discretion and the permission of your con-fessor or spiritual director, remembering that these practices are not of obligation. The rules of most religious orderk or congregations do not offi-cially impose any corporal mortification but only suggest ~he idea. 74 March, 19 4 9 RE: PENITENTIAL INSTRUMENTS Thus in various constitutions we read passages like the following: "The chastisement of the body must not be immoderate or indis-creet, in watcl~ing, abstinence, and other external penances and labors, which are wont to do hurt and hinder greater good. Wherefore it is expedient that everyone should lay open to his confessor what he does in this respect." "Since corporal penances contribute much to spiritual advance-ment, their practice must not be neglected by the members." "In the private practice of ordinary mortifications and corporal penances which are not injurious to health the members are guided by the judgment of the confessor alone: for external and public penances, however, they also need the permission of the local Superior." ""With still greater reason each one shall renounce the flesh and its concupiscences, pride and its suggestions, ambition and its intrigues, causing, according to the words of the apostle, 'his members to die,' even though it required fasting, the discipline, and the hair shirt. No austerity, however, is' to be practiced by a religious without the per-mission of his confessor or Director." This last passage, from Directions for Novitiates of the Congre-gation of the Hohj Cross1 by the Very Rev. Gilbert Francais, C.S.C., is commented on at length in that excellent classic. From those pages of comment (40-44) I make the following extracts: "Corporal mortification is more than a humiliation; it is both a humiliation and a physical pain that we very willingly impose on ourselves, either for the purpose of keeping ourselves from sin, or in order to punish ourselves for having sinned, or for the still higher motive of suffering with Christ Who suffered for us. This simple definition places corporal mortification beyond the reach of the silly and unjust ridicule to which the spirit of the world would subject it. The world very readily admits that we may inflict sufferings, may accept sufferings,' or may impose sufferings on ourselves, for the fur-therance of great human interests. It admits, it demands, it requires, that to save the country we shall fast, shall go through painful exer-cises by which the body is worn down and broken; shall accustom ourselves to carry heavy burdens, to make long marches, to put up with hunger, thirst, cold and heat; to sleep on straw or the bare ground, occasionally to pass whole Mgbts without sleep; in a word, to break and discipline ourselves in every way. This is the fate in 1Published by the Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, Indiana. Quotations with special permission of the editor, Father P. d. Carroll. C.S.C., who writes: "The book, how-ever, is out of print and I do not know where you could obtain copies of it." 75 WINFRID HERBST Revieu~ ior Religious store for all soldiers, and the most beautiful names are given to this spirit of sacrifice and mortification in favor of a noble object. "The world even goes so far as to allow its votaries to suffer, to expose themselves to a thousand sacrifices, to a thousand sufferings, for the object of a sinful passion. Not only does it not laugh at these mortifications, but it reads the history of them in novels with intense interest, and in the theatre it looks upon the representation of them with eager avidity. Those mortifications which the world admits and admires when there is question of defending our country, or even of concentrating on a guilty passion--by a strange perversity it ceases to tolerate them and it mocks them when it is a question of defending one's soul against the powers of darkness, of .saving it for eternity, and of following in the footsteps of Christ . There is a serious lesson for us in this, and we are almost guilty when, at the instigation of this thoroughly wicked spirit, condemned irremediably by Our Lord, we blush at Christian mortifications, and when, on this point, we are tempted to return a smile for its laugh--a laugh both stupid~ and shameless. "Corporal mortification is, therefore, most truly noble. This is not all. There may be circumstances, and especially for the Religious who is called to such delicate perfection even in l~is secret tl~oughts, in which it becomes a moral necessity . "Corporal mortification is useful not merely to triumph over exceptional dangers; it serves to avert them, to remove them further and further from" us, and, in a manner, to render them infrequent. It is an act of manly e, nergy and of higher authority towards a body which should be kept in its place as a slave and made to obey. It is an act of justice by which we ourselves, with our own hands, punish ourselves for having sinned; and not only does God approve of this expiation and recognize its value, but He is pleased with us because of our own accord we execute what His justice would require Him to inflict on us in the flames of Purgatory . " 'No austerity, however is to be practiced without the permis-sion of one's confessor or Director.' This condition is wise and necessary, in order to check indiscreet zeal towards one's self, to be sure of doing" the holy will of God, and to add to the intrinsic, merit of the act by which we mortify ourselves the great merit of obedi-ence." I know there are many kinds of mortification: interior, of imagination, mind, will, heart, the passions; exterior, sight, hearing, 76 March, 1949 RE : PENITENTIAL INSTRUMENTS taste, touch, smell, tongue. I know that the mortification of the senses, as St. Francis de Sales says, is more profitable than the wearing of hair shirts or steel chains or using the discipline. "I know that in addition to taking what God sends in the line of sickness and so forth, in addition to doingone's duty,and in addition to the Church's fast and abstinence, the faithful observance of the prescriptions of modesty and good deportment offer an extensive (and, alas! often uncultivated) field for mortification. But in this article I am lim-iting myself to corporal mortifications of the kind suggested by my collection of penitential instruments. In The Spiritual Life by Tanquerey we read (No. 774) : "There are other positive means of mortification which penitent souls inspired by generosity deIigbt to employ in 'order to subdue their bodies, to temper the importunities of the flesh and give vent to their holy desires. The more customary ones are small iron bracelets clasped to the arms, chains worn about the loins, hairshirts, or a few strokes of the discipline when this last can be done without attracting any notice. As to all such practices one must faithfully follow the advice of one's spiritual director, shun whatever tends to evince any singularity or to flatter vanity, not to speak of whatever would be against the rules of hygiene and personal cleanliness. The spiritual director should not give his sanction to any of these extraordinary .practices except with the greatest discretion, only for a time, and on trial. Should it come to his notice that any inconveniences arise therefrom, he must bring them to a halt." As a footnote to this he says: "To resume the practices of corporal mortification is one of the most effective means of regaining lost joy of spirit and fervor of soul: 'Let us go back to our bodily mortifications. Let us bruise our flesh and draw a littl~ of our blood, and we shall be as happy as the day is long. If the Saints are such gay spirits, and monks and nuns such unaccountably cheerful creatures, it is simply because their bodies, like St. Paul's, are chastised and kept under with an unflinching sharpness and a vigorous discretion.' (Faber, The Blessed Sacra-ment, Book II, Section VII.)" It is perhaps this expression of Father Faber's, "draw a little of our blood," which prompted a religious to say to me, when I cau-tioned that one must never cause a real wound in the flesh when using penitential instruments: "But we were told that corporal penance doesn't really amount to much unless we draw a little blood." I vigorously protest. I do not agree. It does amount to much. 77 WINFRID HERBST Rep~eto for Religiotts And it is against the present-day rules of hygiene thus to d~aw even a little blood. Why, even my favorite author Cappello, Italian and ascetic as he is, gives the following rules to be observed as regards corporal morti- £cations.--Such corporal mortifications (macerations) as are too injurious to health are never permitted. The following are among macerations of this kind: (a) flagellations in which the discipline is applied to the more tender parts of the body or upon wounds not yet healed or by using a discipline studded with sharp points that pierce the flesh; (b) hair shirts made of steel thread so thin that the sharp points penetrate the flesh; or hair shirts that are too tight; or hair shirts that are.constantly worn ; (~). th~ privation of sleep, so that the penitent habitually has less than ~'~vdn hours rest. (Please note, you who burn the midnight oil!) A~ regards corpora/mortifications in genera/, we must distinguish between the case in which the penitent asks permission to employ them and the case in which there is no request for such permission. In case there is no request, the confessor may indeed advise some fasting or some other slight¯penances, but not the hair shirt or the discipline. In case the penitent does ask, the confessor usually puts him off with a view to seeing whether or not he will ask again. If he asks again and very ea'rnestly, the confessor may find it well to grant permission, provided that the penitent is very well grounded in humility and genuine wrtue, in which'case he will at first grant permission to prac-tice such and such a corporal mortification for such and such a length of time on certain days. These are the rules ordir~arily followed by a spiritual director. In case of great necessity and of a penitent disposed to do hard things, he may more easily permit macerations or advise them, but always with due prudence and discretion. (Cf. Cappello, De Sacramentis, vol. 2, No. 573, edition of 1943.) And now, in conclusion, I imagine how some of my readers have been following my ramblings with an amused smile. Perhaps they. are saying within themselves: "Evidently the good man doesn't know that we have to lay it on good and heavy, according to the rule. He seems to think that what he calls macerations are out of date." But I do know. And I do not think so. I bow myself out with the following excerpt from The Catholic Encyclopedia, arti41e "Asceticism," in volume one: "In some of the 78 March, 19 4 9 RE: PENITENTIAL INSTRUMENTS orders the rules make no mention of corporal penance at all, leaving that to individual devotion; in others great austerity is prescribed, but excess is provided against'both by the fact that the rules have been subjected to pontifical approval and because superiors can grant exceptions. That such penitential practices produce morbid and gloomy characters is absurd to those who know the light-beartedness that prevails in strict religious communities; that they are injurious to health and even abbreviate life cannot be seriously maintained in view of the remarkable longevity noted among the members of very austere orders. It is true that in the lives of the saints we meet with some very extraordinary and apparently extravagant mortifications; but in the first place, what is extraordinary, and extravagant, and severe in one generation may not be so in another which is ruder and more inured to hardship. Again, they are not proposed for imitation, nor is it always necessary to admit their wisdom, nor that the biog-rapher was not exaggerating, or describing as continual what was only occasional; and on the other band it is not forbidden to suppose that some of tl~ese penitents may have been prompted by the Spirit of God to make themselves atoning victims for the sins of others. Besides, it must not be forgotten that these practices went hand in hand with the cultivation of the sublimest virtues, that they were for the most part performed in secret, and in no case for ostentation and display. But e;cen if there was abuse, the Church is not responsible for the aberrations of individuals,, nor does her teaching become wrong if misunderstood or misapplied .The virtue of prudence is a part of asceticism." CANONICAL LEGISLATION CONCERNING RELIGIOUS The authorized English translation of that part of the Code of Canon Law which governs religious is now available in the United States under the title Canonical Legislation Concerning Religious. The booklet is published and dis-tributed by the Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland. (Pp. 74. Price: 75 cents [paper] .) 79 The I-lundredt:old Edward Stanton, S.J. 44~ND everyone who has left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and shall possess life everlasting" (Mr. 19:29). If this expression, "the hundred-fold," is read out of context, it can easily be misunderstood. Actually, in the earlier verses of this same chapter in Saint Matthew's Gospel we read that our Lord had offered "treasure in heaven" to the rich young man on condition that he would accept the invitation to "go sell what thou hast, and give to the poor . and come follow me": there also we read His comparison between a camel struggling through the eye of a needle a'nd a rich man squeezing through the gates of heaven. In the light of these two observations which Christ made on the hazards of wealth, it would seem quite inconsistent to have Him, in verse twenty-nine, speaking primarily of a return in kind of the very things He invited religious to renounce in order to imitate more closely His example of detachment, poverty, submission, and obedience. It may be helpful, then, to consider briefly what various Fathers of the Church and some modern exegetes have had to say about Christ's promise of the hundredfold as it applies to those who have answered His call to the cloister. Saint Jerome, whose opinion in interpreting the hundredfold Venerable Bede followed three centuries later, stresses spiritual goods almost to the exclusion of material pos-sessions. He speaks of peace of heart, joy, divine consolations, and other gifts and graces with which God comforts His servants and which He lavishes upon them. These gifts are the rich rewards of a life of consecration to God's service, "for they surpass all earthly goods and joys far more than a hundred exceeds unity." In much the same way, Saint Ambrose (In Ps. cxix) understands by the hun-dredfold God HimselL and consequently the whole world which is God's possession. To such as leave all things for God's sake God is father, mother, wife, brother, sister, and all things--"because," remarks the saint, "he who has left all things begins to possess God, and He is, as it were, the perfect reward of virtues, which isreckoned not by the enumeration of a hundredfold, but by the estimation of 80 THE HUNDREDFOI.D perfect virtue." He cites the example of the tribe of Levi which by God's command was deprived of its portion of the Holy Land. How-ever, the Lord Himself promised that He would be its portion and inheritance. And from this he concludes: "He who has God for his portion is the possessor of all nature. Instead of lands he is sufficient ¯ to himself, having good fruit, which cannot perish. Instead of hquses it is enough for him that there is the habitation of God, and the temple of God, than which nothing can be more precious. For what is more precious than God? That is the portion which no earthly inheritance can equal. What is more magnificent than the celestial host? What more blessed than divine possession?" Saint Augustine (Epist. 89, quaest. 4) declares: "The whole world is the riches of the faithful." And Saint Gregory (Horn. 18 in Ezecb.) writes in the same vein: "He shall receive a hundredfold becauke God shall take care that such a one shall rejoice far more in his poverty, or his renunciation of his goods for the love of Christ, than rich men rejoice in all their riches and advantages." Father Cornelius a Lapide, referring to a parallel passage in Saint Luke's Gospel, explains the hundredfold as "many times more." More recent commentators, such as Fathers C. L. Fillion. F.C. Ceulemans, J. M. Lagrange, and J. A. Petit, in their com-mentaries on these words of Christ, lay special emphasis on the spir-itual rewards of peace, joy, and consolation even in the midst of sufferings and persecutions. The words of Father Alfred Durand in the Verbum Salutis series are worth quoting: "The hundredfold will not be given without persecutions (Mk. 10:30) ; this is a new proof that in this present life it should be bestowed for a religious purpose and not for a purely earthly advantage. This is what Saint Paul (2 Cor. 6:10) has summed up in a wo~d, speaking of himseIf and of the other Apostles: 'as having nothing, yet possessing all things.' "It goes without saying that the promise of the hundredfold thus understood, comprises . a tacit condition: unless it pleases God to dispose otherwise and that in our personal interest. Is there any need to add that a means given by God for the temporal support of the "ministers of His word' should not be considered as an end in itself? That would no longer mean renouncement but a miserable calcula-tion. Moreover, the hundredfold does not mean wealth." The request the mother of the sons of Zebedee made of Christ: "Command that these my two sons may sit, one at thy right hand, and one at thy left hand, in thy kingdom"; the question the dis- .8l PRUDENCE--,/si NECESSARY VIRTUE ciples put to Christ after His resurrection: "Lord, wilt thou at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?"--and many similar statements in the New Testament appear to us today, to have sprung from a background of ignorance. We conclude immediately that the ones who made these requests had forgotten Christ's words: "The king-dom of God is within you," and again: "My kingdom is not of this world." Yet, are there not some religious who at some time .or other have sighed the lament o-f the disciples on the way to Emmaus: sperabarnus, "we were hoping"? Could it be that we were disap-pointedin our hopes because they were founded on our own fanciful dreams, rather than on the words of Christ? Of this we may be sure, that God, our "reward exceeding great," will infallibly make good His word that those who, in their zeal "for the better gifts," have left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's" sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and shall possess life everlasting." Prudence--A Necessary Virtue Albert Muntscb, S.d. DO NOT the very nature of the religious calling and the many safeguards it offers its followers protect the latter from impru-dent ways and methods? Unfortunately, no. In religious life much is left to the good judgment of the individual, and he may easily adopt manners and fall into habits which do not harmonize with the high ideals of his profession. In other words, lack of pru-dence may vitiate well-formed plans and purposes, at least in their execution. Today, especially, when there are many occasions which bring religious persons into freer association with worldlings and worldly practices than was formerly the case, the virtue of prudence should accompany them like a guardian spirit. It is all well to say that new duties demand new methods of approach; but they do not call for laying aside the splendid poise and bearing, the recollection and exterior reserve that should always characterize the soul which has exchanged the trappings of the world for the livery of Christ. Those .who think they have larger privileges to imitate worldly 82 March, 19 4 9 PRUDENCE--A NECESSARY VIRTUE ways and to follow worldly patterns are precisely the ones who need most the protecting strength of Christian prudende. The world bestows an approving smile upon all who fall into its ways and fol-low its changing patterns; but in secret, it ridicules and condemns. Would that this were n~)t so. But the wise and thoughtfM, who hold fast to the way of the rule and regulations sanctiofied by higher wis-dom, need not be convinced by a telltale list of "the preceding proved by example." Prudence is an indispensable part of the armor of every religious. It is required in the classroom. The illustraiions and examples, the applications and iomparisons used to explain texts and principles need not be such as to suggest familiarity with the follies of the idle rich nor the pastimes of the degraded proletariate. No doubt, more than one Christian teacher has been savagely criticized in the home circle precisely for such lack of prudence in the classroom. Prudence is required in caring for the patient in the hospital. The inhibitory powers of tl~e sick and convalescent are often lowered, and they may unwisely and unfairly expect a degree of attention-- perhaps of affectionate care--which is not within the right of any religious to bestow. In such cases guidance by the spirit of the rule, if not by the letter, may be the best preservation from ugly conces-sions. The prudent religious will look at the crucifix in the sick room and will hear the voice of the Master counseIing conduct based on the fear of the Lord. "Blessed is he who offendeth not in speech." Prudence in con-versation with those not of the community, and especially with those not of the household of the faith, is a gift to be prized. Let Christ be our model both in what is to be said and, more especially, in what is to remain unsaid. In the recorded conversations of Christ you find no insinuation of base motives. Only a brave, fearless, outspoken denunciation of hypocrisy, sin, deceit, and hardheartedness; and then only when it was necessary and would prove beneficial to the offender or the bystander. And there is the important matter of friendship--both in and outside of the community. What is of God? What springs from the cravings of lower nature? Is the friendship founded on the real supernatural motive of charity? Would it be approved by Christ if He were present in person and you could lay the case before Him? Weighty questions these, whose answers entail a goodly amount of prudence, prudence based on Christian faith and charity. 83 ALBERT MUNTSCH Review for Religious There remains the vast field of personal attitudes, likes, dislikes, preferences. Is it wise to manifest them to one and all at the slightest provocation? Are others really interested to know of them or do they care to hear of them? Prudence cautions wise restraint. Some religious tell their hearers loudly: "I just hate such a thing and abominate such and such conduct!" Is this confession not apt to act as a boomerang which will bring sharp criticism for the uncalled for manifestation of your attitudes? St. Paul, in his ep!stle to the Ephesians, (chapter 6), describes what has come to be known as "The Christian Armor." This Chris-tian panoply includes the breastplate of justice', the shield of faith, and the helmet of salvation. But can we not say that the virtue of prudence is to guide every Christian in the use of these powerful spir-itual weapons? Prudence is one of the four cardinal virtues, which are defined as, "the four principal virtues upon which the rest of the moral virtues turn." A careful reading of the lives of the saints, as well as recollections of Catholic missionary activity in foreign lands, show how all-important is the virtue of prudence. It was at times the only guide to' success in the Christian warfare, andprepared the way for the entrance of the Gospel of Peace in foreign lands. Take the case of the famous Jesuit missionary Robert de Nobili (1577-1656). He labored in Madura, Mysore, and the Karnatic. In his day the system of caste was perhaps more rigorous than in our time. In order to gain over the Brahmins, he decided to follow some of their ~igorous modes of life. The cry arose that the missionary was adopting pagan customs, and that his example was apt to lead the native Christians astray. In the controversy which followed, one virtue was above all necessary. This was prudence. Should the mis-sionary discontinue his practice and so lose the golden opportunity to convert the higher caste Brahmins? Or should he consult the well'ire of the weaker brethren who would not be able to understand the meaning and motives of his procedure? Prudence justified him in continuing to adopt these foreign customs. He was later officially directed to cease these practices; but in the decision finally given, De Nobili was justified insofar as the customs which he upheld were distinctly cultural and had no necessary connection with worship of the Supreme Being. As stated in a preceding paragraph, the virtue of prudence is per-haps more necessary today when religious have so many opportunities 84 March, 1949 PRUDENCE--A NECESSARY VIRZFUE of coming in contact with people in the world. @he writer recalls a meeting of a scientific society several years ago when a member of a religious community arose several times to present some opinions on the questions under discussion. On one occasion especially this reli-gious embarrassed the audience by presenting views which apparently no one could follow and which seemed to be utterly wide of the mark. Finally, at the suggestion of one of the delegates, the religious ceased from further speaking. We leave it to the judgment of the reader to decide whether or not the virtue of prudence would have prevented this embarrassing incident. Is it not.significant in this connection to recall that one of the great saints of the New Testament--St. Joseph, the Head of the Holy Family--is referred to in liturgical hymns, as "'uir prudens et fidelis." Prudence guided him in his,first associations with the Mother.of God; and the Holy Scripture refers to his embarrassment so delicately, in a delicate situation. It was his prudence that directed him in such a way that won for him the approval of the evangelist. The three great model saints of Catholic youtb--Aloysius, Stanislaus, and John Berchmans--were each one distinguished in his own way for the prac-tice of Christian virtue. Yet each one of these distinguished members in Christ's army wa.s guided by that necessary virtue, prudence. If this virtue bad not been present, they might easily have become offensive to their fellow religious and might have failed to become models for youth in aftertimes, t3ut prudence kept them on a path which exemplified the highest type of spirituality and the greatest love of God, and yet made them dear to and worthy of imitation by those who saw their bright example. These are only a few simple thoughts on a virtue which is apt to be pushed aside like Cinderella in order to give scope to the practice of "heroic virtue." Heroic virtue--that is what we all need and desire-- is to be found in the daily practice of little duties in the spirit of faith, with eyes fixed on God, but above all in the spirit of sweet charity towards all of God's children. Let us then realize that this cardinal virtue is a most potent weapon for shielding us from many pitfalls and for aiding us to a higher degree of perfection in the life of religion. 85 Adapt:at:ion J. Creusen, S.J. Translated from the French by Cla.rence McAuliffe, S.J. [This article first appeared in Reuue des Communaut& Religieuses, XVIlI, 97. It is translated and printed here with the author's permission. The author, though a recognized expert on the religious life, would not want his suggestions to be taken as the last word on the subject of adaptation. Discussion of many of the points in the article, especially as they might apply to the United Sates, is desirable: and we shall welcome communications of this nature.--ED.] ADAPTisAa proTblemIOthatNbesets every age, but- it be- ~omes particularly pressing at times of rapid and,far-reaching social changes. That ours is such a time is beyond all question. When the religious life comes under scrutiny, the probl~m may be posed somewhat as follows: Is it expedient that religious life be adapted to the new circumstances of our times, or must novices and young religious adjust themselves to those demands that are looked upon as essential to genuine religious, life? In this article we intend to try to give the broad outlines of an answer to this extensive question. To adapt oneself means to conform one's life and conduct to a new set of circumstances. If a person travels from one climate to an entirely different one, he must adapt himself to the latter in matters of food, clothing, and work. He must in other words adjust his habits in such things to the requirements of heat and cold. A person must know how to adapt his ways of speaking, of teaching, of nursing the sick, and so forth to the diverse circumstances in which he is placed. Adaptation, therefore, involves change; but not from a mere desire for change in itself, or from fickleness, but from a desire to be able'to live or to act more profitably. Since surrounding circumstances do nor remain fixed, every living thing is compelled to make some adaptations. Just as winter imposes its own special demands, so also does summer. Once a being becomes incapable of adaptation, it is doomed to destruction. Acts that are devoid of adaptation are ineffectual and, as a consequence, usele.ss. Religious life, too, since it is a form of living and acting, cannot be an exception to this law. Apart from the basic applications of sovereign moral and ascetical principles, religious life imposes obliga-tions and norms of conduct that owe their rise to the exigencies or 86 ADAPTATION conditions of special circumstances or of a particular epoch. We need not dwell on this truth which is irrefutable and called into question by scarcely anybody. II The Church, while always remaining faithful to principle, pro-vides us with .striking examples of adaptation. She does not alter by one jot the dogmatic truths which Christ has entrusted to her. Truth does not change with the passage of time. It remains immutable, though the formulas expressing it may vary because of the evolution of human language. For this reason the Church does not alter her moral principles. She condemns contradictory heresies, not only those which unduly exalt human freedom or the worth of creatures, but those also which profess io deny the goodness of the divine work even in material creation. While proclaiming the superiority of per-fect chastit~ over conjugal chastity, she rejects the error of those who condemn marriage. While reminding us of the heroic mortifications practised by the saints, she does not prohibit or dissuade anyone from drinking wine temperately. Did not Christ choose wine as the mat-ter/ from which His greatest Sacrament would spring? ~ta The Church aiso keeps intact, insofar as possible, the fundamen-ls of her liturgy and even of her discipline. To maintain sacerdotal celibacy in the Latin Church, she has had to bear the brunt of recurring attacks. Even within recent memory Pope Benedict XV took occasion to declare that the Holy See would not relax her dis-cipline in this matter even though her failure to do so might prompt some priests to schism. Yet, only an'ecclesistical law is at stake, and its abrogation would imply no loss of essential doctrine. However, bowing to demands arising from circumstances of time and place, the Church does modify, either temporarily or perman-ently, certain disciplinary decrees even though they may date back to the very beginning of her history. Her legislation regarding fast and abstinence both during Lent and on Ember days, and particularly on vigils; has undergone remarkable relaxations. It should be noted, too, that some of these modifications even preceded the war of 1914-1918. Moreover, from the sixteenth to the nineteenth century the secluded or segregated aspect of religious life passed through a total transfor-mation. This was, so to speak, thrust upon the Holy See because many religious congregations had already contributed to it by the adaptations which they themselves had espoused. Again, within 87 J. CREUSEN Relaiew for Religious recent years we have witnessed a considerable extension of the liberty accorded to religious in the choice, at least periodically, of their con-fessors. The Holy See has regarded this as an inevitable consequence rio.wing from the abandonment of rigid seclusion, from a more pro-nounced awareness of freedom of conscience, and from'the new legis-lation about frequent Communion. The first decrees of Plus Xupon this last subject were greeted with vigorous opposition. But even though the highest superiors of some of the most distinguished orders remonstrated, they could not shake his resolve to grant this adapta-tion. Does not the Holy See guide us along the same road when it approves the most diversified forms of religious life? An enormous distance has been traveled from the day when Plus V wanted to oblige all religious to papal enclosure and solemn vows to the present time when approval is extended to religious societies whose members do not even live in community. On the other hand, the Church is prudent in her approach to such adaptations. She undertakes them gradually; she looks about for guarantees of their worth; she often delays until isolated experiments have demonstrated the harmlessness, the usefulness, and the need of the proposed change. Notice, too, how certain devotions, such as the devotion to the Sacred Heart, have passed through progressive stages of approbation. Again, are we not eyewitnesses of the transformation in some liturgi-cal practices? However, in matters liturgical, regardles~ of who may assert the contrary, the Holy See by no means allows priests, bereft as they are of all authority, to introduce changes as they please. Liturgi-cal practices emanate from the authority of the Holy See, which has reserved to itself exclusively the right to pass judgment on their pro-priety. Hence, without special authorization a priest may not cele-brate Mass while facing the congregation. It is no excuse to plead that such an adaptation is required by liturgical progress. III Objects of Adaptation 1. It is perfectly clear that no change can be made in the basic principles of the spiritual life which our Savior taught in His gospel. No matter what development of ideas or of customs may take place, self-abnegation and the way of the Cross will always remain the indispensable means of acquiring and fostering that perfect charity which unites us to God. To prove this we have at hand the explicit 88 March, 1949 ADAPTATION and unequivocal teaching of the gospels, the sum-total of tradition, the testimony and practice of all the saints. Against this solid truth, only specious arguments could be advanced. For instance, someone might contend that a person must necessarily revel in creatures in order to raise himself to God by their instrumentality. The genuine mystics, however, keep telling us that long and rigorous privation and self-denial are the gateway to contemplation and the fruition of God through the enjoyment of creatures. The religious spirit, diametrically opposed as it is to the spirit of the world, must be preserved. The new generation no less than the old must renounce the world--its ease, its dissipation, its spirit of independence and of criticism. The characteristic spirit of each insti-tute is also a treasure that should be jealously guarded. Is not this spirit the handiwork of divine grace operating in the souls of founders and foundresses? Moreover, the primary applications of general prin-ciples of Christian asceticism will remain unchanged or but slightly modified. For instance, certain safeguards of chastity, since they are required by the ingrained weakness of human nature, are always valid and are not out of step with variations in custom. Thus the practice of consulting a retreat director only in the confessional, or possibly in the parlor but not in his private room, will be maintained. Parlors where priests converse with religious women, whether young or old. should have doors panelled with glass. No need or legitimate reason exists for altering this usage. 2. Some adaptations are absolutel~t necessar~t. A. By reason of changes in ecclesiastical legislation. We have already mentioned the comparatively recent laws dealing with confessions of religious men and women. At first some supe-riors objected to these laws because they believed that this new lib-erty, unknown as it was to the earlier history of their institute, engendered a real danger. Today we can hope that such a state of mind has disappeared. The custom of exposing the Blessed Sacrament during Masses of some slightly greater solemnity than usual had ~o cease when the decree was issued allowing exposition only during Masses within the octave of the Feast of Corpus Christi and during the Forty Hours. Again, the Congregation of the Sacraments has very clearly expressed its desire that freedom to abstain from Holy Communion should be facilitated by every means in those communi-ties or social groups that receive Communion at a specified time. The habit of approaching the Holy Table in order of seniority, whether 89 J. CREUSEN Review for Religious of profession or of age, is certainly an obstacle to such freedom. Moreover, this ancient practice has been eliminated in some of the most famous orders. Communion is received without any regard for the position one occupies in the chapel or in the community. We have nothing but praise for this adaptation. It might even be con- , sidered as obligatory insofar as it can be done, because of the directives of the Sacred Congregation. B. By reason of the growth of the institute. When an institute spreads beyond the borders of its native coun-try and branches out into many foreign lands, the time has come when religious of other nationalities should be granted their rightful place in the government of the institute. This is particularly true when the foreigners outnumber members belonging to the native land of the founder or foundress. The foreigners, therefore, should be represented at general congregations or chapters. Just as the Holy Father chooses cardinals from all countries and from all nationalities, so should a general congregation be truly representative of the entire institute. This procedure, moreover, is necessary in order to forestall the temptation to separation from the institute. When religious bodies of men, and especially of women, find themselves systematically excluded from the government of their institute, they fall an easy prey to this temptation. Unfortunately, too, this temptation is often induced and kept alive by some of the local clergy who are anxious to exert a more direct and more extensive jurisdiction over the religious in their own country. The day may well come when thought must be give'n to forming a new province from a group of houses which have grown in number and importance. Similarly, the wisdom of suppressing a province must also be weighed when it has a dearth of members and cannot anticipate a fresh increase of novices for a long l~ime. If such a prov-ince is not suppressed, a general chapter will not have a jr/st propor-tion of representatives from various sections of the institute. As a result, certain groups get.the definite impression that they are gov-erned by superiors and chapters that ignore or neglect their own special interests. A more delicate question comes up, but we cannot waive it. Some institutes keep their communities stamped with a truly international character. In such cases it should not be surprising to find that the superiors of these communities are not citizens of the country where the house is established. O~her institutes, on the contrary, by reason 90 March, 19 4 9 ADAPTATION of the very necessities of their apostolate, must choose local superiors from persons who are either natives of the country or at least speak its language. It is easy enough to understand why authority should be exercised for a long time by superiors (we speak here particularly of communities of women) who are natives of the country in which the institute had its origin; but this state of affairs should not be pro-longed indefinitely. The time comes when it is fitting to appoint English or Irish superiors in England, American superiors in the United States, Belgians in Belgium, and so on. Omit this adaptation and the institute presents a foreign appearance in the country. This is damaging both to the recruiting of novices and to union of spirit. In addition, it furnishes the clergy of the land with a pretext or reason for inducing the native members to withdraw from their religious family and to found another of exactly the same kind, but one that is independent and better suited to the requirements of local conditions. On the other hand, the hearts of all become attached to the institute when confidence is reposed in those who are foreign to the country of its origin: C. By reason of the swift euolution of ideas and custbms. It is evident that the first condition for the proper direction of novices and young religious is to understand them. This supposes personal contact with, as well as experimental knowledge of, the external conditions in which they have been reared and educated. Sometimes masters and mistresses of novices, though quite elderly, understand modern youth perfectly because they have been in constant touch with it for many years. A true youthfulness of spirit results from this uninterrupted contact. However, when a successor has to be appointed to this office, it is important to select someone who is young enough to have retained memories dating from recent times and also youth's natural gift of facile adaptability. These qualities make it possible to understand the ideas, impressions, reactions, and mistakes of the young souls who are to be guided; and such understanding is a requisite condition for exercising 'influence and inspiring confidence. The same qualities should be found in prefects or directors of studies, and also in the superiors of certain houses. The physical condition of modern youth should enter into our consideration no less than its psychological dispositions. The war has radically affected the nervous systems of most young men and women who knock at the doors of our novitiates. This fact must be taken into account- seriously when matters concerning diet, length of 91 J. CREUSEN Review for Religious sleep, and the amount and kind of recreation are determined. When the garden is not sufficiently extensive, physical exercises can be very much in place.1 They afford relaxation from the overconstraint brought on by the religious habit, the practice of modesty, and a life that is too sedentary. In some countries it is perfectly circumspect for religious to enjoy the refreshment of a bath in a,swimming pool or in a pond located on the conveht grounds. In other countries, however, public opinion will hardly allow religious or clerics to swim even in a pool of their own. It is clear that public opinion must be reckoned with in this matter. D. B~] reason of special local circumstances. Most institutes having houses in hot climates have gradually adapted their religious garb to the climate so as not to wear out their subjects prematurely. Again, doctors scarcely allow religious nurses to enter the operating room unless their clothing is adapted to the functions to be performed there. Some cornets or headdresses have to be ruled out because they hinder freedom of bodily action too much. A white dress or apron will also have to be slipped over the religious habit. We need not insist on this because it causes no difficulty, and all institutes willingly consent to it. 3. Some adaptations though not necessary can be very suitable. Hence they are more or less important or urgent. The rational grounds underlying them resemble those we have mentioned above. A. The Liturgical Movement, for instance, will prompt the taking of a more intimate and active part while assisting at the Holy Sacrifice. All members of the community will be provided with a missal so that they can follow the prayers of the priest. On certain days, perhaps, the dialog Mass will be held. Some of the set prayers recited in common might be profitably replaced by others borrowed from the liturgy. One community, for example, has introduced the custom of reciting Compline as its evening prayer. B. Today quite a few candidates for religious life bring along a personal formation which their elders did not always have. This is explained by the modern abundance of spiritual literature, by more frequent confessions, and by more carefully organized closed retreats. Such candidates, of course, have new needs with regard to partictilar modes of the spiritual life. Would this not be a reason for doing lln the text Father Creusen seems to recommend calisthenics provided religious have not the facilities for other forms of exercises. His recommendation is hardly a sug-gestion to establish a regular regime of calisthenics, obligatory on alI.--ED. 92 March, 1949 ADAPTATION away with the custom, still widely in vogue, of reading the points of meditation every evening for the entire community? Would it not lead at least to the elimination of their rereading in the morning? Complaints about this matter are voiced quite often and they seem to be well-founded. After some time a suitably formed religious soul should be able to prepare for itself the matter of its prayer. It will feel drawn toward~ such or such a subject. Why compel such a one to listen in the morning to an entirely different kind of subject mat: ter? Sometimes even the manner of presentation does not correspond to the state of such a person's soul, to say nothing of its failure tO correspond to the mentality of the majority in the community. It is one thing to supply subject matter for morning prayer to novices for a time, or to provide the same help to the lay Sisters. It is quite a different thing to foist such subject matter' on persons who are already fuIIy formed both intellectually and spiritually. It would be absolutely intolerable, of course, for religious to lose their appreciation for the Rosary or for the beautiful invocations o~ litanies which are approved by the Holy See. But no need exists to' inspire a kind of distaste for these devotions by their overmultiplica-tion. It is hardly necessary to add that superiors should see with jealous care that fidelity is always maintained to the mental prayer prescribed by the constitutions. Sometimes, the length or number of vocal prayers recited in common infringes noticeably on the morning or evening meditation. C. Demands made b~t teachir~g. How many young religious men and women today must prepare for two, three, or four years to take examinations that require a considerableamount of knowledge as well as extensive laboratory exercises. The daily order should be adapted to this kind of work. To repeat certain courses intelligently or to put certain compositions in final form calls for. undisturbed and protor~ged study. Such students, therefore, should have at their disposal quite lengthy periods of study and should not be obliged to interrupt their study to attend to exercises of piety or manual labor. Some daily orders were formulated at a period when the preliminaries before class took practically no time or effort, especially after several years of prac-tical preparation. They are not at all suitable to present-day require-ments in the matter of study. The same holds true of preparation for examinations. Not forgetting, therefore, that some more elderly members may also be included in the dispensation, these young reli-gious will be dispensed from certain observances. Other members of 93 J. CREUSEN Reoieto for Religious the community who have more time either by reason of age or work, can continue to keep them. The Holy See sets the example here, for in the great monastic orders it allows exemption from choir to stu-dents of philosophy and theology. D. Technical progress. In a house of some size a house telephone system saves a considerable 'amount of time and eliminates many fatiguing trips and distractions. Telephones are p'erfectly in order in the rooms of the superior, the assistant, the treasurer, the prefects of study and of discipline, as well as in the kitchen, the infirmary, the tailor shop, and so on. How many runnings to and fro would be avoided, how many conversations shortened, what an asset for con-tinued and peaceful labor! An outside telephone evidently brings up different problems. Its use should not be permitted to the free choice of the members of the community. Simple prudence and sometimes the observance of poverty demand some limitations. Here again a wise adaptation is very much in place. The same should be said of the use of automobiles. A visitor was told in a kind of boasting way that in a house of studies there were at least fifteen typewriters. "How does it happen," he said, "that there are only fifteen? Each professor and most of the students should have their own typewriters." We submit this answer to the reflection of superiors. It is certain at any rate that a typewriter is no longer an object of luxury and can be strictly necessary for a teacher or a writer. Even the organization of work in some religious houses would profit much if it were inspired by the modern methods pursued in enterprises of considerable scope. An industrialist who had become a religious told us one time: "What an extravagance of personnel, what losses of time, what a lessening of the effectiveness of our work because we are not rationally organized." We might mention by way of example lack of adequate space, manual tasks imposed on eminent religious because they do not have secretaries to help them in their work, the lack of suitable instruments for work (furniture, index files, and so forth). E. The growth of the Institute brings up another very delic~ite question: Is it proper and, if so, when is it proper to transfer the gen-eral headquarters of the institute to Rome? To begin with, let us say that, although the Holy 'See wants to see a house of every institute at Rome, the Sacred Congregation does not urge all institutes to transfer the mother house there. When a mother house has been a cradle of 94 March, 19 4 9 ADAPTATION the institute; when it has been sanctified and made famous by the vir-tues and sometimes even the miracles of the founder or foundres~;' when most cherished memories are connected with it; we can readily understand that truly valid reasons are wanting for its removal. This is true even though one of the suggested reasons for removal is the advan'tage of baying the mother house in the center of Christianity. Proximity to the Vatican is not an indispensable condition for fos-teringdeep attachment to the Sovereign Pontiff and for acquiring a truly Catholic spirit. However, it can happen that the mother house by reason of the spread of the institute can lose its prestige in the minds of very many members; whereas the actual presence of the superior general's house in Rome certainIy lends to a congregation a mark of universalism and a feeling of union with the Holy See, both of which promote devotion in all members of the institute to those who govern it. Consequently 'it might be well to ask if such a project should not be submitted to the deliberations of a general chapter. IV How should the adaptation be carried out? 1. With prudence. To adapt means to change; and we know that changes do not always take place without shock. Sometimes they cause surprise. Oftentimes ~they inspire spirits of lesser con-stancy and prudence with a desire to introduce other changes which no good reason counsels or commands. Once a change is made it is often difficult, even impossible, to retrace one's steps. Hence a choice should be made in. the alterations to be introduced. Sometimes the unfavorable aspects of a change are perceived only after it has been made. This is an additional reason for seriously considering all possible consequences beforehand. A religious once suggested to his superior that a door be installed at a certain spot in the coiridor. The superior answered: "My dear father, in such and such a year a door was put there; some time later, another superior had it taken out. Later on it was replaced, and then it vanished again. Don't you think it is better to leave things as they are?" Hence counsel should be sought, but not solely from those who are so set in their ways that they cannot imagine or accept any change. It will be helpful to get information .from religious men or women of other institutes. What works well in one institute of the same kind may prove advantageous and beneficial in similar circum- 95 BOOK REVIEWS Review For Religious stances. When feasible, an experiment should be made without offering the change as permanent. 2. With decision. Prudence does not require an indefinite delay before introducing beneficial or necessary changes. Such delay easily engenders restlessness and regrettable criticism. Once the utility or the need of a change has been recognized, it should be introduced with-out complaints, without laments over the evils of the time, without harking back continually to the advantages of the former system. Such a policy might disco.urage souls of good will, or embitter those less favorably disposed. Above all the principle, "That was never done before and things went along all right" should be avoided. Such reasoning simply and categorically closes the door to all progress. Dis-tinction must be made between healthy tradition, custom, and row. line. The first is, generally spea.king, to be kept; the second can and sometimes should be changed: the third should be unequivocally condemned. ook Reviews THE LORD'S SERMON ON THE MOUNT. By St. Augustine. Translafed from the Latin by John J. Jepspn, S.S. Pp. v~ -f- 227. The Newman Press, Wes÷mlns÷er, Maryland, 1948. $2.75. The editors of "The Ancient Christian Writers" seri?s, Dr. Jo-hannes Quasten and Dr. Joseph Plumpe of Catholic University, have again succeeded magnificently in presenting to the English-speaking world an excellent translation of an important work of. Augustine. The entire work is a pithy, thorough analysis of the most challenging of all messages, the Sermon on the Mount, the party platform of Christianity. The work is divided into two books. Book One delves into the meaning of the sermon. Book Two establishes the truth that it is humanly possible to put the Sermon on the Mount into practice, that this sermon is not a moral code for a select few but a perfect pat-tern of Christian living, that it does not contain only counsels for a better class of Christians but rather also for every follower of Christ. The intimate relation between ethics and religion as it appears in this sermon intrigued the great mind of Augustine, and he set himself 96 March, 1949 BOOK REVIEWS to explore this relationship. As a result, in this volume we meet Augustine the moral theologian rather than Augustine the- dogmatic theologian, the ethics master rather than the metaphysician. As a result too, the book is easier to understand, more pleasant, even more devotional at times, as compared with his heavier dogmatic works. The cases handled and the learned discussions concerning them prove Augustine to be the greatest exponent of moral theology in Christian antiquity. In this work he 'made an impoftant contribution both to the science of ethics in general and to that of moral theology in particular. Several of Augustine's comparisons make for instructive and pro-vocative reading. He compares the Beatitudes with the Gifts of the Holy Ghost; and be concludes his book by comparing them to the seven petitions of the Our Father, saying that the first seven Beati-tudes are stages of grace that correspond to the seven petitions of the Our Father as they ask for the coming of the Kingdom of God. The treatment of the Our Father has excellent material for prayerful reflec-tion. One final asset of the book is the copious notes that clarify difficult passages and correct dubious solutions.--V. P. MICELI, S.J. YOU CAN CHANGE THE WORLD! The Chris÷opher Approach. By James Keller, M.M. Pp. xlx q- 387. Longmans Green and Co., Inc., New York, 1948. $3.00. The opening message of this book is that "the United States is being effectively undermined by less than one percent of the people of our country," who are fired by "a militant hatred for the basic truths upon which this nation is founded," and. who, in order to poison the minds of many, "make it their business to get into one of the four in-fluential spheres of activity which touch and sway the majority of the people." The challenge that immediately follows this message is that an equal number of people, fired by a love of Christian principles, desirous of enlightening the minds of the many, can enter the same influential spheres and save the country. And, since this parallel can be extended from country to country, the Christ-bearers (Christo-phers) can save the world. This, however, is only a part of the chal-lenge, for the emphasis of this whole Christopher movement is on the you (singular) ; and it says to every Christ-bearer, "'You can save the world." I will not attempt to give a complete outline or criticism of Father Keller's book. As a matter of fact, it is not a book in the ordinary 97 ]~OOK REVIEWS Reoiew for Religious sense; and anyone who wishes to read it as a book will very probably punish his-head mercilessly. It is a manual, a detailed plan of action covering the four major spheres of influence--education, government, labor-management, and writing--in which every individual who at least believes in God and in the fundamental moral truths can help to counteract the anti-God campaign that is now wrecking the country and the world. It does not stop, however, at these major spheres. It goes into the library, into business, onto the campus, and into the heart to convince every individual of good will that be can do some-thing and to point the way to do it. Because of this extensive scope and the multiple suggestions contained under each head, You Can Change the World is intended more for piecemeal pondering accbrding to one's own circumstances than for reading straight through. A large percentage of our readers can use Father Keller's book very effectively. It could make a fine basis for a discussion of various apostolic works; also for a consideration of various avocations (~nd sometimes of vocations). _And I might add that one can hardly read the opening chapters without being urged to pray for the world, and particularly for the Communists. One reader of the book said that he had not finished five pages before it suddenly came home to him that it would be better to pray for the Communists than against them. If Father Keller accomplished nothing more than to throw emphasis on conversion rather than destruction, on love rather than hate, his book and the whole Christopher movement would be more than justified. In one respect this book treads on what I might term "theological thin ice." Father Keller's message is addressed to all men who hold to the moral fundamentals, irrespective of their religious affiliations, and he encourages all to communicate what truth they have to others. This is a dangerous message and it must be phrased skillfully. The appeal to all men independently of religious attachments can readily connote-religious indifferentism; and the charge to spread what truth they have can lead to communicating the errors woven into the parr tial truths. On the first stretch of thin ice (the appeal to all men of good will) Father Keller is in the very safe company of Plus XII. The second stretch is more dangerous; yet it seems better to risk a plunge into the cold waters of misinterpretation by a positive and encouraging approach to those outside the Faith than to remain (freezing, more or less) in the so-called safety zone of negativism. As a matter of fact, my general impression is that Father Keller crosses 98 March, 1949 BOOK NOTICES even this very perilous patch with remarkable skill and courage. He makes it perfectly clear that his book and the Christopher movement are under Catholic auspices: he does not water down the fact that only Catholics possess the fullness of God's truth; and, in drawing up a minimum plan for the spiritual life of a Christopher, he wisely lim-its his suggestions to Catbolics.---G. KELLY, S.J. BOOK NATURAL AND SUPERNATURAL WEDLOCK, A LENTEN COURSE OF SEVEN SERMONS, by the Reverend Clement H. Crock, includes the best ideas from many sermons on marriage prepared by the author over a long period of years. Compiled in response to requests of bishops and priests for a series of concise, up-to-date Lenten sermons on matrimony, couched in simple, straightforward language, and pleasantly sprinkled with an abundance of apt illustrative examples, these seven sermons drive home .the fundamental doctrine which should be known by those already married and those preparing for marriage. They are easily adaptable for long or short sermons, and should prove very useful for all preachers. (New York City: Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., I948. Pp. 64.) THE JOY OF SERVING GOD by Dom Basil Hemphill, O.S.B.,con-talus twenty chapters, eacl4 of which deals with some important vir-tue or practice of the religious or priestly life. As usually happens, these time-honored subjects, such as humility, charity, spiritual reading, suffering, obedience, silence, detachment, derive new fresh-ness from their treatment by another personality. The book, there-fore, is worth adding to the community library. It is hard to see. why the author omits chapters on the vows of poverty and chastity since they are basic elements of the religious life. A few inaccuracies mar the book. For instance, very few theologians would want to defend this sentence: "All the venial sins of our past life for which we are sorry are forgiven by every absolution, whether they have been mentioned or not" (p. 162). Neither is it correct to say that one of the constitutive elements of the sacrament of penance is the "performing our penance" (p. 157). The meaning of the "imprimatur" on a book is not expressed clearly enough (p. 170). It is also surprising to find silence described as the "twin" of obedience 99 BOOK NOTICES Reoiew for Religious (p. 15). It is rather an atmosphere in which all virtues flourish. But despite these flaws, which after all take up but a few lines of the vol-ume, the book by its simplicity of style and general soundness will provide enlightenment and inspiration for many. (St. Louis, Mis-souri: B. Herder Book Company, 1948. Pp. x + 194. $2.50.) As its title indicates, OUR LADY'S DIGEST contains Marian articles chosen from Catholic magazines and books. It follows the familiar pattern of the Catholic Digest and other similar magazines, differing from them only in subject matter. The articles are frequently very good; but the stories, which are few in number, are with some excep-tions below average in literary quality as are also the poems. The various issues to date (the magazine has been in publication for almost three years) are uneven in quality, but in general are im-proving. With good editing the publication should develop into a very valuable and interesting magazine. (Olivet, Illinois. 11 issues per year. $2.00.) OUR LADY'S HOURS, by Mary Ryan, discusses the meaning and the beauty of the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. This discussion is preceded by two chapters on "Liturgical Prayer" and "The Divine Office." The book should be of great value to Sisters and others who say the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Book shop, 1948. Pp. xv + 195. $2.50.) THE IMITATION OF MARY contains brief chapters with Marian thoughts selected from the writings of Thomas ~ Kempis and edited by Dr. Albin de Cigala. Each "thought" is followed by applications made by the compiler. The book does not approach the appeal of The Imitation of Christ, but it contains a fair number of interesting thoughts. The attempt to arrange the material to fit the fifteen mys-teries of the Rosary is not successful. The work was translated from the original French by a Dominican Sister. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1948. Pp. 114. $1.00 [paper] : $2.25 [cloth].) RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF YOUNG CHILDREN, by S.N.D., has four parts. The first is historical and highlights the chief events in Our Lord's life. The second is doctrinal, corresponding roughly to the Creed. The third and fourth parts deal with the child's first steps to God: prayer, confession, and Communion. The narratives and instructions are simple and adapted to the tiny capacity of the very young. Religion is presented, not so much as a stern Creed, Code, 100 March, 1949 BOOK NOTICES and Cult but as an attractive and lovable person whom the child is drawn to follow. The copious suggestions and devices after each les-son are practical aids to help the child live, love, and serve Christ, his best Friend, twenty-four hours every day--on Monday as well as on Sunday. Parents and teachers will discover in this charming book the secret of that most difficult of arts--introducing a child to the Lover of little children. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Bookshop, 1947. Pp. 173. $2.25.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS. [We have been receiving more books than we can possibly review. Because of this we must make a decided change in our policy. In future we shall list each book received and shall in most cases include a brief descriptive notice of the contents, in so far as this can be estimated from a glance at tbe book, the jacket, and the pub-lisher's announcement. This is the most that we can guarantee for any book. Some books, of course, will be reviewed later or will be given a more complete and critical notice. We can make no guarantee at all for booklets and pamphlets. The list of books announced here supplements the list included in our January number, p. 56. This list, together with the reviews and notices published in this issue, is a complete acknowledgement of all books received up to February 10, 1949, and not previously reviewed.] BENZIGER BROTHERS, INC., 26 Park Place, New York 7, N. Y. Our Lady of Fatima, Queen of Peace. By Joseph Delabays; translated by John H. Askin. Pp. xv + 197. $2.75, A fairly full history of the Fatima story, fol-lowed by nearly fifty pages of prayers to Mary, Five illustrations. BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 540 N. Milwaukee St., Milwaukee I, Wis. Vade Mecum for Teachers of Religion. By Sister M. Catherine Frederic, O.S.F. Edited by the Rt. Roy. William F. Lawlor. Pp. xvi -'k 344. $4.00. A grade school teacher's reference book containing material on the liturgy, the Mass, a glos-sary of ecclesiastical terms and abbreviations, and brief lives of class patron saints recommended for study. The Watch. By the Most Rev. Alfred A. Sinnott, D,D., Archbishop of Winni-peg. Pp. vii -5 155. 1947. $2.50. Contains fourteen Holy Hours for use each month of the year, for Holy Thursday, and for Forty Hours. CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS, Washington,-D.C. The Provincial Religious Superior. By Rom~eus W. O'Brien, O.Carm. Pp. x q- 294. Adissertation on the rights and duties of provincials in religious orders of men. EVANS-WINTER-HEBB, INC., Detroit, Mich. No Greater Service. By Sister M. Rosalita, I.H.M. Pp. xx q- 863. The history of the Congregation of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, Mon-roe, Michigan, (1845- 1945), with a foreword by His Eminence, Edward Cardinal Mooney. Achievement of a Century. By the same author. Pp. xiii -Jr 299. An account of the mother house and missions of the congregation. Both volumes pro-fusely illustrated. $15.00 for both volumes. Order From: Publications Office, Saint Mary's, Monroe, Michigan. FATHERS OF THE SACRED HEARTS, 4930 South Dakota Ave., N.E., Washington 17, D.C. 101 BOOK NOTICES Review For Religious Father Damien: Apostle of the Lepers. By the Most Reverend Amleto Giovanni Cicognani. Pp. 47. $.50 (paper). THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad, Indiana. As Others See Us. By Henry Brenner, O.S.B. Pp. 117. $1.25. Presents the Sacred Humanity of Christ as the mirror in which we may see ourselves. The Mass Year. By Placidus Kempf, O.S.B. Pp. 124. $.30. A daily Mass guide for 1949 with liturgical reflections on some of the SeCrets. The Virgin's Land. By the Young .Monks of St. Meinrad's Abbey. Pp. 97. $.50 (paper). B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 17 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. Where We Got the Bible. By th," Rt. Rev. Henry G. Graham. Pp. xii q- 166. Paper. $1.00. Tells how the Catholic Church preserved the Bible. A reprint of a work that has not been available for several years. Meditations For Evergman. By Joseph McSorley, C.S.P. Volume II. Contains. meditations for each day of the liturgical year from Pentecost to Advent; also a handy index of the Scripture texts on which the meditations are based. Pp. vi 211. $2.75. Dante Theologian, A translation of and commentary on The Divine Comedy, by the Rev. Patrick Cummins, O.S.B. Contains an English version of the encyclical on Dante, the text of The Divine Comedy, commentaries, and a dictionary of proper names. Pp. 604. $6.00. The Three Ages of the Interior Life. Volume II. By the Rev. R. Garrigou- Lagrange, O.P. Translated by Sister M. Timothea Doyle, O.P. Pp. xiv -[- 668. $7.50. The present volume discusses the illuminative and the unitive ways and extraordinary graces. Second Latin. By Cora Carroll Scanlon and Charles L. Scanlon. Pp. vi -1- 270. ' $3.50. Intended for students who can devote only two years to the study of Latin and who must be prepared to read Latin textbooks of philosophy, theology, and canon law. The Well of Living Waters. By. Pascal P. Parente. Pp. viii -t- 335. $3.50. Excerpts on spiritual topics from the Bible, the Fathers, and the masters of the spiritual life. P. J. KENEDY ~ SONS, 12 Barclay Street, New York 8, N. Y. Another Tu2o Hundred Sermon Notes. By the Rev. F. H. Drinkwater. Pp. ~ii -t- 210. $4,25. Provides from two to five outlines for each Sunday of the year, as well as a choice of themeS, for a large number of feasts and occasions when a pul-pit talk is in order. L'IMMACULI~E-CONCEPTION, 1844 est, rue Rachel, Montreal (34), Canada. Lumiire et Sagesse. By Lucien Roy, S.J. Pp. 301. A study of mystical grace according to the theology of St. Thomas. LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO., INC., 55 Fifth Ave., New York, N. Y. You Can Change the World. By James.Keller, M.M. Pp. xix -b" 387. This is the story of "The Christopher Approach"-~of how the ordinary man can do a great job ifi changing the world for the better. $3,00. Transformation in Christ. By Dietrich yon Hildebrand. Pp. ix -b 406. $4.50. The theme of the book is the operation of the supernatural life in the sphere of personal morality. Lord, Teach us to Pratl. By Paul Claudel. Translated b~" Ruth Bethell. Pp. 95. $2.00. De La Salle: A Pioneer of Modern Education. By W, J. Battersby, Foreword by A. C. F. Beales. Pp. xix + 236. $3.50. 102 March, 1949 BOOK NOTICES Sermons and Discourses: (1825-39). Pp. xviii q- 348. $3.50. --- Sermons and Discourses: (1839-57). Pp. xvli-b- 382, $3,50,--Two more volumes of the new series of the works of John Henry Cardinal Newman. Edited by Charles Frederick Harrold. MACMILLAN COMPANY, 60 Fifth Avenue. New York. Mary o[ Nazareth: A True Portrait. By Igino Giordani. Translated by Mother Clelia Maranzana and Mother Mary Paula Wiltiamson. Pp. xlx + 185, $2.75. MARQUETTE UNIVERSITY PRESS, Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Peace Proposals of Plus Xll in the Writings of David Lawrence. By Sister Cath-erine Joseph Wilcox, S.P. ,Pp. xi q- 95. A dissertation. THE MARYKNOLL BOOKSHELF, Marykn911, N. Message of Fatima. A unit of work for intermediate grades. Lithographed. Pp. 103. How the People o[ the Andes Live. A new unit of study on Peru, Bolivia, and Ecuador. Assembled in loose-leaf binder. $1.50, .THE MERCIER PRESS, Cork. Communism and Ireland. By Sean P. MacEaoin. Pp. 132. Paper: 3/6d. Westward by Command. By Maire Cotter. Pp. 159. $2.50. A life of Mother Cabrini. THE MISSION PRESS, 1502 West Ashby Place, San Antonio 1, Texas. The True Concept of Literature. By Austin J. App, Ph. D. Pp. v -1- 110. Paper: $1.00. NATIONAL CENTER OF THE ENTHRONEMENT. 4930 So. Dakota Ave., N. E. Washington 17, D. C. Proceedings of the'First National Congress of the Enthronement of the Sacred Heart in the Home. Pp. 92. Paper: $1.00. Contains much conference material. THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Ancient Christian Writers, No. 6. This volume comprises The Didache, The Epistle of Barnabas, The Epistles and the Martyrdom of St. Polycarp, The Frag-ments of Papias, The Epistle to Diognetus. Newly translated and annotated by James A. Kleist, S.J. Pp. vi + 235. $2.75. Meditations on Christian Dog.ran. By the Rev. James Bellord, D.D. Vol. I: Pp. xxv--[- 369; Vol. II: xiv -[- 363. $7.50 for the set of 2 volumes. The medita-tions cover the whole of dogma. Two pages for each meditation. They seem very solld. This is a Newman reprint of a work that has not been available for a long time. The Vell Upon the Heart. By George Byrne. S.J. Pp. viii q-- 103. The book treats of private prayer. Thy Light and TbU Truth. By Rev. Robert Nash. S,J. Pp. 197. $2.50. A book of meditations. A selection of the Spiritual Book Associates. The Old Testament and The Future Life. By Edmu, nd F. Sutcliffe, S.J. 2nd. edition. Pp. vii q- 201. $3.50. Surveys the development of the doctrine of the future life as it is found in the Old Testament. The Way of the Mystics. By H. C. Graef. Pp. 160. $2.75. A study of the mystical life in various mystics. Christ ls All. By John Carr, C.SS.R. Pp. 143. $2.25. This is the fourth impression; the Imprimatur is dated 1928. According to the author's preface, the book is of a moral and devotional nature and is intended to make Cath,olics' belief in Our Lord more vivid and practical. The Mystical Body, the Foundation of the Spiritual Life. By Father M. Eugen~ 103 BOOK NOTICES Revieu~ for Religiou,~ Boylan00.Cist.R. Pp. 130. $1.75, cloth: $.90, paper. This was the April (1948) selection of the Spiritual Book Associates. The Liturgical Year. Volume I: Advent. By Abbot Gu~ra, nger, O.S.B. Pp. x + 520. The price of the present volume is $4.00. Subscribers to the entire set of 15 volumes are entitled to a discount of 25 per cent. Another Newman reprint of a classic work. Catechism Stories. By the Rev. F. H. Drinkwater. Pp. xxxv ÷ 480. $3.'50. Contains nearly seven hundred stories, each designed to drive home some point of Catholic teaching. Written originally as a companion to the English catechism, this American edition has references to the appropriate sections of the Revised Baltimore Catechism No. 2. Diocesan Censures "Latae Sententiae" and Reseroed Sins in the United States. Compiled at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Md. Pp. 38. Paper: 50 cents per copy; 6 or more copies, 20 per cent discount. A handy booklet for students of canon law and for priests in the ministry. A Retreat Souvenir. By Father Victor, C.P. Pp. 79. Paper: 30 cents. A translation of the French. Intended primarily for girls and young women who have made an enclosed retreat. Platform Replies. By the Very Rev. J. P. Arendzen. Volume 1. Pp. 199. Paper: $1.75. Answers to questions on ethics and religion. Companion to the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius. By Aloysius Ambruzzl, S.J. (Third edition.) Pp. xiv + 348. $3.00. First Steps in the Religious Life. By Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. Pp. 127. $2.50. A planned series of instructions on the religious life. Hidden Fields. By Sister M. Rosalia, M.H.S.H. Pp. viii + 55. $1.50 (paper). A brief sketch of the life of Mother M. Demetrlas, foundress and first superior gen-eral of the Mission Helpers of the Sacred Heart. The Liturgical Year: (Christmas, Book I, 4th ed.). Pp. vii + 456. $4.00. --The Liturgical Year (Christmas. Book II, 4th ed.) Pp. x ÷ 522. $4.00.-- Both by Abbot Gu~ranger. O.S.B. Translated by Dora Laurence Shepherd. The Lord is mg Jog. By Paul de Jaegher, S.J. Pp. 182. $2.50. Describes the relationship between happiness and holiness. The Mother of Jesus. By Father James, O.F.M.Cap. 'Pp. viii + 159. Chapter Headings: Portrait, Vocation, Immaculate, Pre-Ordained, Virgin-Mother, Media-tion, Queen. Nazareth. By J. K. Scheuber, O.S.B. Translated by the Venerable Archdeacon M. S. MacMahon. P.P., V.F. Pp. xiv + 278. $2.50. A pocket-size book of counsel and prayer for the married. Readings and Addresses. By the Reverend F. H. Drinkwater. Pp. vi + 190. " $2.75. For the Holy Hour and other occasions. Religious Teaching of Young Children. By S. N. D. Pp. 173. $2.25. A book for teachers and parents. A Spiritual Aeneid. By Monsignor Ronald A. Knox. Pp. v + 263. $I.00 (paper) : $3.00 (cloth). The author's account of his conversion. This Age and Marg. By Michael O'Carroll, C.S.Sp. Pp. viii + 158. $2.50. FREDERICK PUSTET COMPANY, INC., 14 Barclay Street, New York 8, N.Y. Ave Maris Stella. By Max F. Walz, C.PP.S. Pp. vii + 70. $1.50. Each chapter handles a stanza of the "Ave Maris Stella" hymn in the manner of the sec-ond- method-of-prayer. The Shepherdess of Souls. By a Sister of Mercy. Pp. ix + 125. $1.50. Each of the thirty-o.ne short considerations consists of a quotation from some book about 104 March, 19 4 9 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Mary, some thoughts about the event in her llfe, followed by a moral application to the reader's llfe, concluded with a prayer to Mary, and an appropriate poem. RADIO REPLIES PRESS, St. Paul I, Minn. The Singing Heart. By Rev. Lawrence G. Lovasik, S.V.D. P. 144. Sto~y of girl named Antoinette Marie Kuhn. ROSARY COLLEGE (Department of Library Science), River Forest, Ill. The Catholic Booklist: 1948. Pp. 110. $.60. The Catholic Booklist: 1949. Pp. 86. $.65 (paper). ST. ANTHONY GUILD PRESS, Paterson, New Jersey. The Book of Genesis. The first of a new set of translations of the Old Testa-ment. Work is done by scholars of the Catholic Biblical Association and is spon-sored by the Episcopal Committee of the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine. Pp. vi + 130. THE SENTINEL PRESS, 194 E. 76th St., New York 21, N. Y. The Eucharist and Christian Perfection. Parts I and II, translated from the French of Blessed Julian Eymard by Mrs. Amy Allen. Part I contains two retreats: one given to the Brothers of St. Vincent de Paul: the other to the Servants of the Blessed Sacrament. Part II contains a retreat given to the Blessed Sacrament Fathers. PartI:Pp. vi + 327; PartII, xii + 236. Each, $2.00. Month of St. Joseph. Translated from the French of Blessed Peter Julian Ey-mard. Pp. xxvi -1- 131. $1.50. Contains thoughts for each day of March. In the Liqht of the Monstrance. Translated from the French ol~ Blessed Peter Julian Eymard. Pp. vii + 248. $2.00. This volume contains miscellaneous writings of Blessed Eymard that represent the basic principles of his spiritual doc-trine. The compiler is the

Issue 2.4 of the Review for Religious, 1943. ; A.M.D.G. Review i or Religious JULY 1~, 1943 ~ Shall Weo~Talk About Vocation? . ~The Edlfors Ignatius Of Antioch . -°. ¯ Augustine K~as "Chris÷ in the Refectory . w,~iam J. M,;ore Differing~Currents in the Liturgy ./ . G~rald Ellard Advice to a New Superior , A Spiritual Director Studies Du~ing Novitia÷e . . . . Adam . EII~s Si:,ruples versus Chastity . Gerald'~ Kelly Communication Book~Revlews Questions Answered Decisions of the Holy See ' " VOLUME II '- NUMBE~,4 REVIEW FOR- RELI.GIOU S VOLUME II JULY 15, 1.943 NUMBER OONTENTS SHALL WE TALK°ABOUT VOCATION?--The Editors .217 THE SPIRITUAL MESSAGE OF IGNATIUS OF ANTIOCH-- Augustine Klaas, S.J . 220 HOLY CHILDHOOD CENTEiXlNIAL . 234 CHRIST IN THE REFECTORY--William J. Moore, S.J .~.235 ¯ DIFFERING CURRENTS IN THE LITURGY, TOO--Gerald Ellard, 2S4.J3. BOOKLETS . 251 ADVICE TO A NEW SUPERIOR (By a Spiritual Director) .2.52 STUDIES DURING THE NOVITIATE--Adam C. Ellis, S.J .2.5.5 SCRUPLES VERSUS CHASTITY Gerald Kelly, S.J . 263 BEATING THE AIR IN PRAYER (A communicatiqn) .2.68 BOOK REVIEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth. S.J.)-- THE EXEMPTION OF RELIGIOUS IN CHURCH LAW-- By the Reverend Joseph D. O'Brien, S.J. 270 ON THE PRIESTHOOD. By Saint 3ohn Chrysostom .272 THE BOOK OF CATHOLIC AUTHORS (2nd Series)-- Edited by.Walter Romig . 273 TALES FROM THE RECTORY-- By the Most Reverend Francis C. Kelley . 274 HOW TO THINK. By Arthur D. Fearon . 27~e THE LOVE OF GOD. By Dom Aelred Graham, O.S.B .2.7.5 HYMNS OF THE DOMINICAN MISSAL AND BREVIARY-- By the Reverend Aquinas Byrnes, O.P. . 276 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE . 277 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 26. Use of Golden Jubilee Gift . 278 27. Renouncing Share of Inheritance or 15ension . 278 28. Appointment of Local Councilors and Bursar . ~ . . 279 29. Title of "Mother" for former General .¯ . 280 30. Questioning Applicants about Parents' Marriage . 280 31.Canonical Meaning of "Legitimacy" . .280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1943, Vol. II, No. 4. Published bi-.monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J." Copyright, 19,43, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Sub~¢rlption price: 2 dollars a year. Printed ia U. S. A. Shall We .Talk About: Vocal:ion? The Editors OUR recently concluded discussion of spiritual direc-tion indicated that ~ve can derive considerable profit from a mutual interchange of views. For this.reason we sl~ould like to continue the Communications department in the REVIEW and we think it advisable to directthe com-munications toward some d~finitely useful subject. From a number of suggestions offered us, we hav, e concluded that a~highly profitable subject would be Vocation. Certainly Vocation is an interesting subject to all of us, and atthis time it is more practical than tisual. For several years most religious institutes in this country, particularly those of women, have-been acutely conscious of the need of more vocations. The war is increasing the p~oblem. Any-thing we can do by way 6f mutual help in the present crisis will be a real contribution to the welfare of the Church. It is:onething to select a topic for i:lis.cussion; it is quite another to .determine individual aspects of the topic that are Worth discussing. In general it seems clear that our discus-sion should turn along lines that have specia.1 reference to priests and religious. The more specific determination of these lines will no doubt be brought out in the communica-tions. In the subsequent paragraphs we are attempt'ing to indicate a few questions that might be discussed more com-pletely if the readers are so inclined. Ther~ must be some among our readers whom God has blessed with more than ordinary success.in the work of fos-terin~ vocations to the priesthood or the religious life. This is not a talent in which one should glory or about which one should brag; yet neither is it a talent to be hidden under a bushel. A person thus blessed could probably make many 217 THE EDITORS helpfu.1 suggestions that other priests and religious could use. To publish such suggestions anonymously in a review for the exclusive use of priests and religious is surely within the most iigid requirements of humility. Attitudes of religious sometimes have great influence for good or bad in the development of religious vocations. At various times we have heard rather severe criticisms of three such attitudes that are said to impede the wholesome growth of vocations. Perhaps these criticisms are too severe or even unjust; but references to them may offer food for thought and discussion. - The. first harmful attitude is an erroneous estimation of the priesthood and the religious life with respect to. other Christian states of life. For instance, some religious are said to be entirely unaware of the fact that there is such a thing as virginity in the world. They do not realize ~ the excellence of virginity in itself, independently of tell-; gious vows and priestly consecration. Also, some religious o are said to give the impression that they do not properly understand the dignity and sanctity of marriage; they seem to think that all good young people should be priests or enter religion. A second harmful attitude is the false estimation of one's own institute with' reference to other religious insti-tutes: in a word, an inordinate devotion to one's own. A religious with this attitude is apt to disparage other orders and congregations, if not explicitly, at least by im131ica-tion. He may even try to hinder the freedom of the indi-vidual aspirant to choose the institute for which he seems to be best fitted; and in doing 'this he may even spoil a promising vocation. The third harmful attitude may be described in the following words written to a priest by a teaching Brother: "From experience I have gathered that the great 218 SHALL WE TALK ABOUT VOCATION? majority of our priests do not realize that a vocationto the Bro.the.rhood is a special vocation, nbt .just something one takes as a last resort'. It is a vocation which requires con-stant self-effacement, self-denial, and an' almost heroic. spirit of Faith. Yet to a large number of priest~ and 'to many others it is a vocation that has no.meaning." Enough for the criticisms. Another ~opic of interest is that of the loss of vocation. Is this problem more acute today than it used to be? Are there certain fundamental explanations of our losses? Are there remedie~ that can be applied more effectively than they have been applied in the past? The foregoing suggestions were selected at random, merely for the purpose of stimulating discussion. We hope our readers will think of other topics, as well as expand on these. The one thing that remains is to begi~ the discussion. If letters are sent we will print them. If the letters are too long, we may have to edit them; if they are too numerous, we may have to summarize them. We ask those who send communications to observe the following points: 1) As in the discussion on spiritual direction, our present purpose is positive. The aim is mutual help in a great apostolic work. Criticism of certain policies or atti-tudes may at times be necessary, but it should be offered in a spirit of kindness and with a view to mutual improve-ment. 2) Communications will be printed without names and without references to places, unless the senders explic-itly request that their names and addrehses be printed. 3) The communications should be addressed directly to: The Editors of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, St. Mary's College, St.Marys, Kansas. 219 The Spirit:uai Message Ignatius ot: An :ioch Augustine Klaas, S.~I. pOPE PlUS XII, in a stirrinig radio broadcast on Ascen-sion Eve 1942, bade us turn to the heroes of the primi-tive Church in order to "clear all mists from our minds" and to "put new life into ourhearts" in the dark, " threatening days through vchich we are passing. Most elo-quently he described these brave Christians of the first three centuries as "moral giants" and "athletes" ot~ Christ, vigor-ous in both thought and action. Such a moral giant and athlete of Christ was Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch in Syria, whose message comes to us clear and vibrant across nineteen centuries. It is something unique in Christianliterature; it is the impassioned, spirit-ual. message of a prisoner in chains impatiently hurrying to a martyr's death. Life and Letters The historical facts of the life of Ignatius are very mea-ger. He was probably a Syrian, born at Antioch. Neither the date of his birth nor the events of his early years are known with certainty. Legend has it that he was the little child whom Jesus singled out as an example of humility to the Apostles and.then took into His arms (Mark 9:35). Most likely, as Saint John Chrysostom asserts, he had seen the Apostles Peter and Paul, both of whom had dwelt for some time at Antioch, and had even been their disciple, since in the first century bishops were usually chosen from among the immediate disciples of the Apostles. Some think be was also a disciple of Saint John the Evangelist. At all events,. what is known for certain is that Ignatius was the third 220 IGNATIUS¯ OF ANTIOCH bishop of Antiocl~, succeeding Evodius, .who had. been ¯ appointed by the first .bishop of that city, the Apostle Saint Peter himself, During the reign of the Roman Emperor Trajan (98- 117 A. D.), a short but violent persecution of the Chris-tians broke out for some unknown reason, claiming Pope Saint Clement at Rome and the aged Saint Simeon, Bishop df Jerusalem, as illustrious.victims. Perhaps the most dis-tinguished martyr of this persecution, however, was Igna-tius. He was arrested, tried,and condemned to death °at Antioch in the early months of 107 A. D. (according to the historian Eusebius), and was sent off to Rome to be executed. The slow, wearisome journey through Asia Minor to Rome Ignatius made with other .condemned Christians, among Whom, it s.eems, were Rufus. and Zosimus. They were guarded by an escort of soldiers who were by no means p!easant travelling companions. Ignatius writes of them:' "From Syria to Rome I combat wild beasts, on lahd and sea, by night and day, chained to ten leopards--a company of soldiers,~who in return for gifts on!y get worse" (Ro-mans V, 1)1. In spite of thi~ brutal treatment, their jour-ney was like a triumphal march, .greeted as they were on all sides by the faithful of the places through which they passed. They made a halt at Philadelphia, another at Smyrna, where Ignatius was received by the bishop of that .church, Saint Polycarp, the future martyr, then a young.man, Hither also came delegations of Christians from various churches in Asi~Minor to salute Ignatius and to encourage him,to persevere. -The final stop was made at Troas., whence probably by way of Philippi and Dyrrachium they proceeded to Rome. 1The quotations in this article are translated from the Greek text of Ignatius' Letters, critically edited by Father Francis Xavier Funk in his Patres Apostolici, second edition, Tilbingen, 1901. 221 AUGUSTINE KLAAS During this protracted oia crucis Ignatius wrote seven letters of varying length: four from Smyrna, to the churches of Ephesus, Magnesia, Tralles, and Rome; three from Troas, to the churches of Philadelphia and Smyrna, and to Bishop Polycarp himself. These seven magnificent epistles, of undoubted authenticity, are "justly regarded-as the most precious heirloom of Christian antiquity.!'~ Written in a vigorous Pauline style, the letters of Igna: tius are filled with warm, sincere, earnest exhortation, and packed With theological doctrine on the Trinity, the Incar-nation and Redemption, the Eucharist, the Christian vir-tues, and the hierarchical nature of the Church. I.ndeed, chiefly on account of their unmistakable doctrine regarding the one, holy, apostolic, hierarchical Church, these, letters have been bitterly, but vainly attacked by Protestants for over two hundred years. The following is a typ!cal Christ-ol6gical passage: "There is one Physician, both corporeal and spiritual, born and unborn, God dwelling in flesh, true life in death, both of Mary and of God, first passible and then impassible, 3esus Christ our Lord" (Ephesians VII, 2). In these letters the word "Eucharist," meaning the Blessed Sacrament, appears for the first time in Christian literature (Smyrnaeans VII, 1; VIII, 1), as also the word "Catholic" applied to the Church of Christ (Smyrnaeans VIII, 2). Cardinal Newman, a profound student of patris-tic lore, does not exaggerate when he declares that "almost the whole system of Catholic doctrine may be discovered at least in outline, not to say in 13arts filled up, in the course of them.''3 They give Ignatius a just claim to the title of the greatest of the Apostolic Fathers. 2Bernard Otten, S.J., A Manual of the History of Dogtr, as, Vol. I, Herder, 1917, p. 65. 3John Henry Newman, Essays Critical and Historical, Vol.I, Longmans," 1901, p.,255. 222 IGNATIOS OF. AN~FIOCH Spiritual. Message " " What is I.gnatius' spiritual message to us in these Stormy times, so much like his own? What is that vital message of the early Church of the martyrs to which Plus XII so movingly calls our attention in his broadcast? The spiritual message of Ignatius of Antioch can b~ summed up Very simply: it is Jesus Christ. For this cou-rageous bishop Jesus Christ is all in all. Saint Paul preached closest union with Christ and Saint John taught us life in Cl~rist. Ignatius marvellgusly blends both these doctrines and inculcates them with extraordinary vigor. Christ is the ambient atmosphere in which Ignatius lives and moves; Christ is his interior obsession; Christ appears on every page, almost every line of his letters. I shall let Ignatius give us his message in his own words, as much as possible. It is true that he addressed it long ago to the clergy and faith-. ful of the churches of Asia Minor, but Plus XII says that he and his noble,, fellow-Christians are speaking to us today. "Abundant greeting in Jesus Christ"--this is his usual salutation to the churches, expressed in various ways, some-times twice and thrice over in the same letter. Jesus Christ is "our tr.ue life,~' "our inseparable life," "our unity of spirit," "our only Ma~ter," "our common hope." "Fo~ let us either fear the Wrath to come or.let us love the grace which is at hand, one of thetwo--provided only we bd found in Christ Jesus unto true life. Let nothing be. worthy - of you apart from Him, in whom I carry about my. chains, those_spiritual pearls in which may it be given me to-rise again through your prayers, which I beg I may always share . " (Ephesians XI, 1, 2). And. again, it is Jesus . Christ "WHO also was really' raised from the dead, His Father haVi_ng raised Him up, as in like manner His Father shall raise up in Christ Jesus us who believe in .Him, with-out whom we have no true life" (Trallians IX, 2). In 223 AUGUSTINE KLAAS every letter Ignatius gives himself a second name. It is always the same--Theophorus, "God-bearer";-and well might he have answered as the legendary third century Acts of Ignatius say he did when questioned about this name. "And who is xneopnorus. .the Emperor asked, and Ignatius replied, "He who has Christ in his heart." According to Ignatifis, there are only two classes of per-sons off this earth: those who live in and for Christ, and those who reject and deny Him. To the first class, com-prising the faithful, he says: "You do all things in Jesus Christ" (Ephesians VIII, 2). "You are therefore all fellow-travelers .along the way, God-bearers, temple-bearers, Christ-bearers, bearers of holy ti~ings, arrayed from head to foot in the commandments of Jesus Christ . And I am permitted to share your jsy . because, on account Of. another life, you love nothing but God alone" (Ephesians iX, 2)."I know that you are not puffed up, for you have Jesus Christ in you" (Magnesians XII, 1). On the other hand, those who reject .Christ are living corpses. "Of what benefit is any one to me, if he praise me, but blaspheme my Lord and do not admit that He was clothed in flesh? He who does not profess this has denied Him absolutely and is himself clothed with a corpse" (SmyrnaeansV, 2). But that is not all. ':As for me, unless they speak of Jesus Christ, I hold them to be tomb-" stones and sepulchres of the dead, whereon are inscribed only the names of men" (Philadelphians VI, 1). Avoid, therefore, those who are not Christ's. "Flee from those evil offshoots bearing deadly fruit, which if a man eat he presently dies. For these are not the planting of the Father: for if they were, they would appear as branches of the Cross and their fruit.would be incorruptible" (Tral-iians XI, 1; 2). "Abstain from noxious herbs, which Jesus Christ does not cultivate because they are not the Father's 224 IGNATIUS OF ANTIOCH planting . . If any man walk in strange doctrine, he has no part in the Passion" (Philadelphians III, 1, 3). And be yourselves genuine Christians, stamped with the image of God. "It behoovds us not only to be called Christians, but also to be Christians" (Magnesians IV,.1.). "For just as there are two coinages, ~he one of God, the other of the world, and each has its own stamp impressed "upon it, so unbelievers bear the stamp of this world, and believers the stamp of God the Father in love through Jesus Christ; and unless we willingly choose to die through Him in His Passion, his life is not in us" (Magnesians V, 2). "Wherefore, let us become His disciples, and let us learn to live like Christians. For whosoever is called by any name ¯ other than this is not of God. Get rid of the evil leaven which has become stale and sour, and be transformed into a new leaven, Jesus Christ. Be salted in Him, that none among you may be spoiled; since by your savor you shall ¯ be tested" (Magnesians X, 1., 2). Genuine Christians have faith and love, and these, lead to deeds. "None'of these things is unknown to you, if you have toward Jesus Christ perfect faith and love, which are the beginning and the end of life: the beginning, faith, and the end, love. And .wl, ien the two coalesce in unity it is God, and all other noble things follow. No man professing "faith, sins; nor does he who has love, hate. 'The tree is known by its fruit': likewise they who profess to be Christ's shall be recognized by their deeds" (Ephesians XIV, 1, 2). And What are these deeds? " 'Pray without ceasin~g" for other men also, that they ma~ find God, for there is in them a hope of repentance. Ac.cordingly, let them learn from you, at least through your deeds. Be meek when they are angry; be humble-minded when they speak proudly; oppose your/prayers to their blasphemies; in the face of 225 AUGUSTINE KLAAS their errors remain firm in the faith; be gentle when they are crud, and do not see.k, to retaliate. Let us be proved their brothers by our forbearance, and let us try to imitate the Lord--who was ever more wronged, more. despoiled, more despised than He?--that no growth of the devil be found in ¯ you, but that you may abide in all purity and sobriety in Jesus Christ, both in the flesh and in the spirit" (Ephesians X, 1-3). "Let us therefore do all things as though He were dwelling in us, that we may be His temples, and that He may be our God in.us" (Ephesians XV, 3). Hence, according to Ignatius, ~o be closely united to Christ, to live one's life in Christ, to be a bona Fide Chris-tian, means sinlessness, steadfast faith, strong love and Christ-like deeds. All this is fundamental. It is thus that one begins to be a "Christ-bearer." - But Ignatius goes- much further. He selects and emphasizes three particular means which will help greatly tO "put on Christ" ever more and more. It is these three means that make Ignatius eminently a guide for us today. . Un~t~l in Christ The first"important means stressed~by Ignatius is unity in Christ, that is, union with the bishop and other ecclesias-tical authorities, and also union with one another. We are one or-we are nothing: on no other point is Ignatius more repetitiously insistent. ' He counsels the Magnesians, who at the time had a young bishop: "It becomes you not to presumeupon the youth of your bishop, but, ou.t of consideration of~ the power of God the Father, to give him all respect, as I have learned that even the holy priests do not take advantage of his outwardly youthful appearance, but as men prudent in God they yield to him, yet not to him, but to the Father of Jesus Christ, to the bishop of a11" (Magnesians III,l). And to the Ephesians he says that "it is cle;ir that we must. 226 IGNATIUS OF ANTIocH look upon the bishop as the Lord Himself" (Ephesians VI, 1). ¯ The will of God, the will of Christ, and the will of the bishop are one and the same thing. "For this reason I took upon myself to counsel you to live according to the will of God. For Jesus Christ, our inseparable life, is the will of the Father, even as the bishops, appointed throughout the world, are in accord with the will of Cl~rist" (Ephesians IIL 2). "Therefore it is fitting that ~you should live in har-mony with the will of the bishop, as indeed you do. Fo~ your estimable prie~sts, worthy of God, are attuned to the bishop asthe strings to a harp. Hence, by your concord and harmonious love Jesus Christ is being sung. Now join in this~ chorus, each of you, that being harmoniously in accord and receiving the key of God in unison, you may s~ng with one voice through Jesus Christ to the Father, that He may .both hear you and recognize bE your good deeds that you are members of His Son. It is then .to your advantage to be in blameless unity, that you may have always a part in God" "(Epbesians IV, 1, 2). "For as many as belong to God and Jesus Christ .these are with the bishop" (Phila-delphians III, 2). Not only must there be union with the bishop but also with the priests and deacons. "Let all men likewise respect the deacons as Jesus Christ, even as they should respect the bishop as a type of the Father,. and the priests as the council of God and the college of the Apostles. Without these, there is noChurch" (Trallians.III, 1). Andthe faithful must be united to each other. "Work together, struggle together, run together, .suffer together, rest together, rise up together as God's stewards, assistants and servants. Please Him for whom you fight, from whom you receive your pay; let none of you be found a deserter. Let your baptism r~main as your weapons, your faith as a 227 AUGUSTINE KLA~.S helmet, your love as a spear, your patience as your panoply . Be therefore long-suffering with one another in gentle-ness, as God is with you" (Polycarp VI,, 1, 2). "Be then all in conformity .with God and respect one another and let no man regard his neighbor according to the flesh, but love one another in Jesus Christ always. Let there be nothing in you which can divide you . . . " (MagnesiansVI, 2). "'In your common assemblies let there be one prayer, one - supplication, one mind, one hope in love, in blamelessjoy, which is Jesus Christ, than whom there is nothing better" (Magnesians VII, 1). If, living harmoniously with each other, we must be closely united to the bishop, th~ bishop.on his part must be united also to us, his flock, so that there may be perfect unity in Christ's mystical body~ Ignatius gives excellent advice to the bishop in a letter to his good young friend Polycarp, Bishop of Smyrna. "I exhort you in the grace with which you are clothed to press forward in your course and to exhort all men that they may be saved. Defend your office in all diligence of flesh and of spirit. Watch over unity, than which there is nothing better. Bear with all men, as the Lord also bears with you; suffer all men in love., as you indeed do. Be diligent in unremitting prayer; ark .for wisdom greater than. you have; stand guard, having a sleepless, spirit. Speak to each according to the manner of God; bear the ills of all as a perfect athlete. Where there is more toil there is also much gain" (Poly~arp I, 2, 3). "If.'you love good disciples, it is no credit to you; bring rather the more troublesome to subjection by your gentleness. Not all wounds are healed by the same plaster. 'Be prudent as the serpent' in all things and always 'simple as the dove' . Be sober as God's athlete. The prize is immortality and eternal li'fe" (Polycarp II, 1-3). "Let not those who seem to.be trustworthy, but teach .228 IGNATIUS OF ANTIOCH strange doctrine, dismay you. Stand firm as an anvil which is smitten. It is a quality of great athletes to. take punish-ment and to win. Especially must we endure all things for God, that He may also endure us. Be more zealous than you are. Learn the opportune times for action. Await Him who is above time, eternal, invisible, w.ho for our sakes became visible, who is intangible, impassiblef who suffered for us and in every way endured for us" (Polycarp III, 1, 2). "Let nothing be °done without your consent and do nothing without God. " (Polycarp IV, 1). The Euc, barist and Unitg The unity in Christ so emphatically stressed by Igna-tius is fostered greatly by participation in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and by partaking of the Eucharist, "a pledge of everlasting life in Jesus Christ." "Obey the bishop as Jesus Christ obeys His Father, and obey the priests as if they were the Apo.s'tles; respect~the deacons as y.ou do God's com-mand. Without the bishop le~ no one do anything which concerns the Church. Let that be considered a lawful Eucha-rist which is celebrated by the bishop, or by one whom he appoints. Wherever the bishop appears, there let the people be, just as wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the catholic Church. Without the bishop it is not lawful either to bap-. tize or to hold an agape [a Eucharistic love-feast]; but whatever he approves that is also pleasing to God." (Smyrnaeans VIII, 1, 2). Heretics, by disbelief in the Eucharist., disrupt unity. "They abstain from the-Eucharist and from prayer because they do not acknowledge that the Eucharist is~ the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ, the flesh which suffered for our sins, the flesh which the Father in His goodness raised up again~ Therefore those who gainsay the gift of Godare perishing even as they wrangle; it were better for them to 229 " A~GUSTINE KLAAS partake of the Eucharist, that they too might rise again" (Smyrnaeans VII, 1). "Endeavor then to celebrate one Eucharist, for there is one flesh of our Lord Jesus Christ and one chalice for union with His blood, one altar, just as there is one bishop with his priests and deacons, my fellow-servants,. " (Philadelphians IV, 1). Ignatiu~ speaks of the Ephesians as "breaking one bread, which is the" medi-~ cine of immortality, the antidote against death, a pledge of everlasting life in Jesus Christ" (Ephesians XX, 2). He himself longs for union with his Eucharistic Lord. "I take no pleasure in the corruptible foo.d or the delights of this life. I desire the 'bread of God,' which is the flesh of Jesus Christ, 'who was of the seed, of David,' and for drink I desire His blgod, .which is incgrruptible love" (Romans VII, 3). Imitation of the Suffering Christ Union with Christ and life in Christ are achieved also by a third means, by imitating Him and modelling one's life on His. Since Ignatius' thoughts constantly .revert to the painful death which is waiting for him at the end of his present journey/he is preoccupied with imitating the suf-ferings and death of Christ. To shed one's blood in mar-tyrdom beconsiders the closest imitation of Christ; it is per-fection itself. The only true disciple of Christ is he who gives his life for Him. Ignatius, ' shackled and condemned° to death, now only begins to be a real disciple of his suf-fering Master and he Will be a perfect disciple only through a bloody martyrdom. " Let no one interfere to rob him of this prize, for whoever shares in Christ's sufferings and death will also participate in His glory. "Honored with a name most pleasing to God, I laud the Churches in the chains which I bear, and I pray that in them there may be a union with the flesh and- blood of Jesus 230 IGNATIUS OF ANTIOCH Christ, whois our ev.erlasting !ife, a union in faith and love, to which nothing is preferable, and aboveall a union with ~lesus andthe Father, in Whom, if "we endure the full on-slaught of the prince of this world.and go unscathed, we shall attain unto God" (Magnesians I, 2). "But if, as certain godless persons, that is, unbelievers, affirm. "His suf-fering was only a semblance . why am I a prisonei, and why do I even long to fight with the beasts? In that case, I die in vain; then indeed do I lie concerning the Lord" (Trallians X, 1). "If these things were done by bur Lord only in semblance, then I too am chained only in semblance. Why have I given myself up to death, to fire, to the sword, to wild beasts? Because to be near to the sword is to be near to G6d, and to be with wild beasts is to be .with God, pro-vided it be in the name of 2esus Christ. That I may suffer along with Him, I endure all thin.gs, and He strengthens me who is the perfect Man" (Smyrnaeans IV, 2). In the letter to the "Romans we find passages on mar-tyrdom which are sublime and immortal. Only a few can be cited here. Ignatius feared the Roman Christians would intercede for him with the government and thus deprive him Of his martyr's crown. Sohe .begged them to "grant me nothing more.than that I.may be immolated to God, while an altar is still ready; in order that forming a choir in charity you may sing to the Father in Christ ,lesus, because God deigned to grant that the bishop of Syria be found at the setting of the sun, having summoned him from its rising. It~is good to set from the world unto God, that I may rise unto Him (Romans II, 2). "I am writing to all the Churches and bid all men know that I die willingly for God, unless you should hinder me. I beseech yo.u not to show me an unseasonable kindness. Let me be the food of wild beasts, th.rough whom I can attain to God. I am God's wheat, and I am being ground 231 AUGUSTINE KLAAS by the teeth of wild beasts that I may be fdund ChUtist's pure bread. Rather entice the beasts that they may become my tomb and leave no trace of my body, so that when I have fallen asleep in death, I.shall not be burdensome to anyone. Then shall I be truly a disciple of Christ when the world shall not even see my body. Beseech Christ for me that through these instruments I may become a holoca.ust to God. I do not command you as did Peter and Paul. They were Apostles, I am a convict; they were free, I am to this very moment a slave. But if I suffer, then shall I be a freed-man of Jesus Christ and in Him I shall rise free. I am-learn-ing now in my chains to extinguish every human desire" (Romans IV, 1-3). "O that I may have joy in the beasts, prepared for me, 'and-I pray that they too may be found prompt for me; I will even entice them to devour me quickly, so" as not to be like those whom they did not touch through fear. Even if they themselves be unwi.lling, I will force them to it. Grant me this favor; I know what is expedient for me. -Now do I begin to be a disciple. °May naught visible or invisible envy me my attaining to Jesus Christ. Fire, the cross, combats with wild beasts, cuttings, manglings, wrenchings of bones, hacking of limbs, crushing of my whole body, cruel tor-tures of the devil, let them all come upon me, provided only I attainto Jesus Christ" (Romans V, 2, 3). "The confines of the earth and the kingdoms of this world shall profit me no~hing. It is better for me to die in Christ Jesusthan to reign over the ends of the earth. I seek Him who died for us; I desire Him who for our sakes rose again from the dead. The pains of birth are upon me. Bear with me, brethren! Hinder me not from living, do not wish my death. Do not give to the world one who desires to be God's, nor seduce him with material things. Allow me to recelve the. pure light; when I have arrived thither, 232 IGNATIUS OF ANTIOCH then shall I be a man. Let me imitate the Passion of my God" (Romans VI, 1-3). "The prince of this world wishes to tear me to pieces and to corrupt my mind towards God. Let none of you present help him; be rather on my side, that is, on God's. Do not speak of Jesus Christ and yet desire the world. Let no envy dwell among you. Even if I myself, when present, shall b~seech you, do not obey me; rather follow this which I write to you. For I write to you in the midst of life, yet as one yearning for death. My human love is crucified and there is in me no fire of love for material things, but only 'living water' speaking and saying within me 'Come to the Father' " (Romans VII, !, 2). Death of Ignatius This urgent summons to the Fath4r was soon to be realized. Arriving in Rome in the latter part of the same year 107, Ignatius heroicallymet the d~ath he so ardently longed for, probably in the Coliseum. The~e are extant no. authentic details of his final combat with the beasts, nor can the date of his death be determined with accuracy. Shortly after, his relics were taken back to Antioch and there they remained until 63 7 when they were removed to the church of Saint Clement'in Rome where they still rest. The uni-versal Church celebrates his feast on February 1st. .Ignatius was every inch a bishop of the Holy Roman Catholic Church. Self-sacrificing in his devotion to duty, fearless in defending the faith, untiringly solicitous~ for unity, ever an inspiring apostle by his personal holiness as well as by his words, he was one of the most profoundly Christian heroes of all times. As a,true shepherd, he laid down his life for his flock. He carried out fully what he himself once wrote: "Teaching. is good, if the teacher does what he says" (Ephesians ,XV, 1). He went even further, 233 AUGUSTINE KI~AAS he sealed his message with his blood. Hence we accept that message, for it rings true. It teaches us union with Christ and life in Christ by means of deep faith and an active love that overflows in good works, by close harmony with God's representatives in His Church and with our fellowmen, by participation in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and in the Eucharist, by the close imitation of 3esus Christ, especially in. His Passion and Death. The spirited message of Ignatius was.often read at the gatherings of.the faithful of the primitive Church; it gave comfort and inspiration to brave hearts in many a dark hour. It has not lost its appeal and significance today, for the message is ,Jesus Christ, who St. Paul says i~ "the same, yesterday and today, yes, and forever" (Hebrews 13:8). HOLY CHILDHOOD CI=NTI=NNIAL The Pontifical 'Association of the Holy Childhood is celebrating its hundredth anniversary this year. The Association was founded by Bishop Charles de Forbin- Janson, who was born in Paris in 1785. \Vith the help of Pauline Jaricot, foun-dress ~f the Propagation of the Faith Society, be made plans for the establishment of the Association of the Holy Childhood. In 1843 the first council of the Association was appoi'nted. The membership was to be m~de up of childrer~ "throughout the world and each child, besides praying for the missions, was to give a penny a month. While the baptism of dying pagan children was to be the chief aim of the Association, it was determined that the society would also undertake the. erection of orphanages, work-shops, and other institutes for children. , ~ The fi}st returns of the Holy Childhood Association were only $25,000; in 1940, they had grown to $2,000,000. This money has been spread into some six hundred mission centers of the Catholic world. Pope Plus XI raised the Associa-tion to pontifical rank in 1926. Our Present Pontiff, Pius XII, as Cardinal Pacelli, was the Holy Childhood Association's Cardinal Protector. 234 Christ in the Refectory William J. Moore, S.J. RELIGIOUS are used to hearing the words of our Lord read to them during meals in the community refec-tory. The.re is a special.appropriateness in this practice "arising from the fact that a surprising number of these words w~re spoken by our Lord while actually in a refec-tory, or at least at times when His hearers were concerned, about food and drink. Man's necessary, concern about bodily food supplied occasions for miracles and discourses on the spiritual food of the soul. Page after page of the Gospels deals wkh Christ's mealtime instructioris. At the marriage feast of Cana our Lord changed xvater into wine and first manifested His glory. His disciples, too, were at the wedding celebration, and their belief in Christ ¯ was confirmed by the miracle. Such marriage feasts as this lasted seven days~ and a great quanti~y of wine was needed for the large number of guests who might drop in at' any time. Sympa.thetically our Lord relieved the distress of the young couple when their supply failed. (John 2.) Wearied after a !ong tramp over the hill roads, Jesus stopped at the well of Jacob. His disciples xvent ahead to buy food in the villhge close by. Christ. ~vas thirsty and asked the Samaritan womah for a drink. Then He took occasion to teach this poor sinful woman of her need of the living water of divine grace. She could offer Him cool water from the well, but He offered to her refreshing draughts of grace for her arid soul. (John 4.) Levi, the publican, was sitting at the tax-collector's booth one day. "Follow me," said Christ. Leaving all things, Levi followed Christ. To commemiarate his call to the apostolate, Levi (or Matthew, as he is better known) .235 ~rlLLIAM J. MOORE gave a great feast for Christ. A large gathering of publi-cans was at table with the Savior and Levi. ~'Why do you eat arid drink with publicans and sin-ners?" the grumblirig Pharisees and scribes asked the dis- . ciples. Christ answered the quest.ion Himself. "It is not the healthy who need a physician, but they who are sick. I have not come tocall the just, butsinners to repentance.~' As a physician Christ had to deal with and gain the confi-dence of.His patients. ' Then He explained why His disciples did not fast like those of ~lohn, and spoke a parable about the difference between the old order and the new. One Sabbath day Christ and His disciples were walking through a field of standing grain. The disciples were hun-gry and plucked some of the grain and .ground it in their hands. The Pharisees objected that this little operation°of milling grain by hand was a violation of the Sabbath. Christ replied that He was Lord of the Sabbath. The delighted disciples, thus justified, continued joyfully to munch their pitiful little meal of dry grain before the angry eyes of the discomfited Pharisees. (Luke 6.) Luke tells of a dinner at the home'of a Pharisee. Quite Often Christ dined with Pharisees, just ~is he dined with publicans. On this occasion a woman in the town who was a sinner, upon learning that Christ was at table in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabasterjar of ointment; and standing behind Him at His feet, she began to bathe His feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hairoff her head, andkissed His feet, and anointed them with oint-ment. (L,uke 7.) To understand such an occurrence, we must remember that ~lewish customs differed from ours tod~ly. Strangers were often permitted to look on at great feasts. The guests usually did not sit in chairs as we do, but. reclined on couches, resting on the left elbowand eating with the right 236 " CHRIST IN THE REFECTOR~ hand. The couche~-were placed in the foim of a horse-shoe, so that servants could easily get to the tables plac.ed before.~he diners. T.,he Pharisee host was sh~cked. If Christ had divine knowledge, reasoned the Pharisee, He ought to know that the woman was a sinner, and should not let her touch Him. But .Christ at the dinner table contrasted the host's cold_ness and neglect with the sorrowful love of the peni-tent, )~nd gently told the woman, "Thy sins are forgiveh . Go in peace." It was evening in the desert. Five thousand men, not counting women and children, were with Christ far from village food markets. Only five loaves .and two fishes were to be had. The disciples urged the Master to dismiss the people at once, that tl~ey might get back to town as soon as possible. But Jesus said to the disciples, "They do not need to go away; you yourselves give them some food . And looking up to heaven, .[He] blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to His disciples, and the disciples gave them.to the crowds. And all ate and were satisfied." (Matthew 14.) Four thousand men, apart from children and women,, were with Christ on another occasion. The compassion-ate Savior said, "They have now been with Me three day~, and.have nothing to eat; and I am unwilling to send.tl'iem away fasting, lest they faint on the way." Once more our Lord multiplied loaves and fishes in a wondrous miracle to foreshadow the magnificent spiritual feast of the Holy Eucharist. (Matttiew 15:) Mary was sitting at our Lord's feet while her sister Martha was. busy straightening up tl~e house and watching the fire where a tasty meal was simmering. Our Lord did not condemn Martha for.her care about dusting and cooking. He did' approve of Mary's action, and spoke 237 WILLIAM J. MOORE the classical text for'proving the superiority of the con. templative life over the active life: "One thing is needful. Mary has chosen the best part." (Luke 10.) A Pharisee asked Christ to dine with him. Christ accepted, went in to the supper room, and reclined at table. He had of set purpose omitted the ritualistic washings which the Pharisees had elevated in importance to laws of supreme moment. When the Pharisee.host criticized Christ " in his heart, the Mast(Jr excoriated, the hypocrites' who were fanatical about washing their hands and cleansing pots and cups, but cared nothing .about washing sin from their souls. Fearlessly He denounced the whole brood of Pharisees and scribes who boasted that they had paid tithes " on everything they ate, even on the tiny little spice herbs such as mint. Christ was a guest Who never-bowed to the pride Or passion of His host. (Luke 11.) We find Christ a guest again in the house of a ruler of the Pharisees. It was a Sabbath. A great quantity of food had been prepared ahead, of time, lest there be any unnecessarywork on that day. Of that the Pharisee.s were very scrupulous, but of mercy they cared not. In fact they sought to trap Christin His mercy. Before the entrance to.the house a man ill with dropsy' was stationed. Would Christ cure the man on the Sab-bath? The Pharisees watched for a supposed violation of the Sabbath. Resolutely Christ cured the man and asked the hypocrites if theywould not drag an ox or ass out of a pit into which it had fallen on the Sabbath. Of course they would do so. Bu~ if an animal could be cared for at the-expense of some labor, why not a man? And the Pharisees "could give Him no answer to these things." The Savior then went into the dining room with His host and the other guests. The Pharisees were jealously pushing forward to secure each one for himself a place of 238 CHRIST IN THE REFECTORY honor. Christ spoke the parable of The Last Seat to rebuke their pride. Then He taught a lesson in charity. The rich Pharisees gloried in their great generosity in pro-viding sumptuous dinners for many people. The guests, however, were. usually well-to-do friends and relatives who~ could pay back in kind. In the parable on Poor Guests, Christ declared that true charity would consist in providing a feast for the poor.who could never issue a return invitation. A reward for such charity would be reserved for the host in the kingdom of heaven. At that, one of the guests exclaimed, "Blessed is he ~vho shall feast in the kingdom of God." The speaker was a Pharisee who assumed as a matter of .right that all Pharisees would have a place at the.heavenly feast. Christ, in the parable of a Great Supper, told the Pharisee that God had- indeed invited them tothe heavenlyb~nquet, but that they had contemptuously refused to come. The poor Jews and Gentiles would now take.their places. (Luk~ 14.) Zacheus, the publican of Jericho, was short of stature, but his hand was large to .grasp exorbitant taxes for the Roman treasury and his own private purse. He knew that his deeds were evil, knew the hatred with which the Jews cursed him. He had heard, however, of one great. Jewish teacher whowas notorious for kindness to the publicans. Full of curiosity to see Jesus of Nazareth, Zacheus hurried from his.office when Christ came to Jericho. Careless of his dignity, the short little man climbed a sycamore tree to see the friend of publicans and sinners. The unexpected happened. Christ stbpped beneath the sycamore, looked up to where Zacheus was perched, and said: '~Zacheus make haste and come down; for I must stay in thy house today." In amazement and haste Zacheus jumped down and welcomed Christ joyfully. BUt the crowd murmured 239 WILLIAM 3". MOORE Saying, "He has gone .to be the guest of a man who is a sinner." It was the old reproach, heard so frequently in the Gospel narrative. Christ was a friend of sinners.-. He ate at table with publicans and sinners. Over and over the same refrain of bitter complaint. BUt Christ went on converting sinners, saving what was lost. To the divine guest Zacheus said: "Behold, Lord, I give one-half of my possessions to ~he poor, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold." (Luke 19.)' It.was at a supper in Bethany that the greed of ,Judas became apparent. Simon the Leper (now cured) was host: Laza.rus, raised~ from the dead, was/~ guest near 3esus, ~nd Martha was s~rving. When Mary anointed Christ's feet, the thievish treasurer complained that the valuable oint-ment should have been sold for 300 denarii (about $51). and the proceeds given, to the poor. Christ waved aside the objection and praised the good work of Mary. H6w much of our Lord's teaching was done at meal-" time is well exemplified in the five full chapters which St. ,John devotes to the actions and discourses of Christ at the Last Supper. Ftirthermore, St. ,John does not repeat what the three other evangelists had already ~eported about the institution of the Blessed Eucharist. 3ohn tells instead of Christ's humility in washing the feet of the Apostles; the commandment to love one another; the beau-tiful allegory of the Vine and the Branches; .the.promise of ~he Holy Spirit; the priestly prayer of Christ "that all .may be one" even as the Father and Christ a~e one. (,John,. chapters 13-17.) The central event of the Last Supper is recorded by the Synoptics. "While they were at supper, ,Jesus took bread, and blessed and broke, and gave it to His disciples. and said, 'Take and eat, this is My body.' And taking a cup, He gave thanks and gave it to them, saying, 'All of 240 CHRIST IN THE REFECTORY you drink of this; foi: this is My blo~d of the new.cove-nant, which is being shedfor many unto the forgiveness Of sins'." (Matthew 26.) It was in the apostolic refectory that¯ Christ gave us His own body and blood for our spiritual food. It was there in a supper room that He ordained the first priests. Every church is a supper, room where Christ is offered again under the appearance of bread and wine on the altar table. Every church is a supper ro6m where God feeds His children with the Bread of Angels. It was a glorious Resurrection Day. All heaven rejoiced; but the disciples on the road to Emmaus Were sad. The .traveler who approached and walked with them ¯ gradually raised their ¯spirits until at last ¯their hearts burned within them as they gained a fuller understanding of the ScriptUres. "Stay with us," they pleaded as the stranger would have left them at Emmaus. The stranger agreed. "And it came to pass when He reciined at tame with them, that " He took the bread¯ and blessed and broke and began handihg it to them.~ And their eyes were Opened, andthey. recognized Him." ~ Christ their Risen Lord was with them at the supper table. Back to Jerusalem to the Apostles the two disciples hurried. The Eleven would not believe their report. Then Christ appeared to the Eleven as they were at table. ."See My hands and feet, that it is I Myself," He said. "Feel-me and see; for a spirit'does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have." Still the Apostles disbelieved and marvelled for joy. "Have you anything here to eat?" asked our Lord. They offered Him a piece of broiled fish and a honeycomb. And when He had eaten in their presence, He tSok what remained and gave it to them. (Luke 24.) St. John tells us of the ins.titution of the Sacrament of 241 WILLIAM J. MOORE Penance on this same Resurrection nigh~. To His Apostles Christ solemnly.said: "Receive the Holy Spirit; whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain; they are retained." (2ohn 20.) St. John's epilogue contains one of the most touching accounts of our Lord's considerate goodness. All night the Apostles had been fishing without success. Our Lord appeared, granted them a splendid catch, and prepared for them a hot breakfast of bread and fish on the lake shore. The poor fishermen were cold and weary and hungry after a chili night on the water. BreakfaSt over, orie ofthe most important events in history took place. Christ conferred on Peter the primacy in the Church. To Peter was given the commission, to feed Christ's sheep, to rule and guide them with full power " from God. Christ taught the people wherever they gathered. Since men most frequently assemble to take meals together, Christ frequently taught at meals. When the peopl.e gathered elsewhere, Christ preached elsewhere. St. Mark has 'two passages which must have had their ~ounterparts on scores 6f busy days. Such a large crowd gathered, says the evangelist, in chapter three, that "they could not so much as-take their food." And in chapter.six he says that so many people were coming and going that "they had no leisure even to eat." 242 Differing Current:s in !:he Lil:urgy, Too Gerald Ellard, DIOCESAN priests sometimes make it a matter of jest that, whereas pries.ts of religious institutes ard_ently advocate that worship-reform we call the liturgical movement, they themselves follow .in their chapels and" churches, ' more likely~than not, some variant liturgy and not the simon-pure Roman Rite. Again;they tease a little to the effect that members of religious orders look at the w.hole liturgical movement from an angle determined, by the specific outlook of their own religious group. Thus, the statement is made: "If I havea missionary from such an order, he preaches his kind of a liturgical movement, and anathema to all else. Then, the next year, a missionary from another order comes around, and his liturgical movement is something quite differen!! Why don't you religious who preach retreats and missions get together and fix on a definite program to preach? Before you kno@ it, we p/irish priests may get ahead of you, by organizing on our own, and then convert you to. our parish-type_ liturgi-cal movement in the Roman Rite.". . Behind this badinage and laughter there, is some real perplexity .and concern. It may prove helpful to religious as well.as to diocesan priests to remind ourselves, in Father Reinhold's vigorous phrase, that the Church does not seek to. impose one liturgical strait, jacket. That adjective, "catholic," after all, means "faking in all, taking in .the ~hole," and the Catholic liturgy includes the various gulf-streams of religious observance, as well as the vast stretches of the diocesan priesthood. A roundabout approach may be the shortest road to the subject. "Prior.to the feast of Candlemas the large monastic faro- 243 ~ERALD ELLARD ily at St. Meinrad's, Indiana, engages in the exercises of the annual retreat. In 1942 the retreat for the monks them-selves was being conducted by a- Franciscan friar, that for those in the Major Seminary by a monk from another abbey, while the last, for the Minor Seminary students, had been entrusted to the writer. Our dinner and supper were served in the monastic refectory, but breakfast was served the retreat-masters in the Guest Dining Rooml So it came abo.u~ that we had the pleasure of a short chat each morning as we breakfasted. My recollection of those little inter-ludes over thecoffee-cups is very pleasant, indeed. I .dare say the topic of the actual conduct of the retreats was the only one we avoided bringing into the discussions. We all . realized that in our several chapels we were conducting retreats that differed from one another not a little, although each one of us was endeavoring to herald the message of the one Christ.' While we all proclaimed Him, the monk saw Him after the manner of'the sainted Benedict, the friar as had the seraph on Mount-Alverno, and I somewhat after the manner of. the soldier of Manressa. All three concep-tions of Christ are true--if only partial: the unsearchable riches of Christ's Personality Will never be exhaustively comprehended by any man. More than once, therefore, as this daily contact of ours was broken off, I thought of how we three retreat-masters then and there gave a partial illustration of words of the late Peter Lippert that have stood the test of print since 1912. The passage, as a quotation, is somewhat long, but, I trust, justifiab!e for its interest. In formulating his expression of the ideal of the Jesuit vocation, Father Lip-per. t had sought clarification in comparisons: "For the sons of St. Benedict, of whose spirit all con-templative orders have a share, Christ is the worshipful King and.Lord, whom they serve by means of. their noc- 244 DIFFERING I~U~RENTS'IN THE LITURGY, TOO turnal psalmody, their earnest and solemn 'chan.t, the majesty of tbleir liturgy, their soulful, sacred art, their inspired craftsmanship.- This; tog, far from the bustle and noisy conflict of the world. They resemble the angels of the sanctuary: consecrated to the service of God, they st, and ceaselessly before the Throne of the Lamb, and enact the holy service of the Christian altar of sacrifice. With their praying art and their imperturable monastic peace, they present a vision or a foreshadowing of the Church Trium-phant, and hence above earthly conflict or earthly sorrow. Hence flows that harmony, that Wrought-out smoothness, so to speak, that sense of right proportion in their way of life, which even in the earliest period of the preaching of. the "Anglo-Saxon and Germanic missionaries made such "pro-found impression on~ the barbaric peoples of the forest. "Francis of Assi~si was the seraphic lover of the helpless Child in the st:;ble and of the crucified Saviour. He" was steeped, first o~ all, in the mystery of Bethlehem, a mystery of the most touching infancy and childlikeness. But no less was Francis held by that most frightful self-abasement of Golg01~ba. It was Francis who erected the°first-Christ-mas crib, and then ranged him, self, as an empty-handed mendicant, by .the manger of the divine Beggar-Child. So ¯ also by the Cross of the rejected, the last and the least of all men, he took his stand as a least brother. He considered,. too, the unending multitudes of his spiritual sons as his fellow-sentinels at the posts of the poverty and the humilia-tions of the great Son of God. Hence it is surely not by chance that for centuries precisely the Franciscans are the CuStodians of the Holy Places. Nor is it by chance that to -the Franciscans the hearts of the people have always be~ longed, for thesimple folk understand nothing so well as the mysteries of Bethlehem and Calvary. "Well, then, how is the image of Christ conceived and 245 GERALD ELLARD expressed in the Order of Loyola? In the Jesuit Order tl~e basic concept is of Christ as Founder of God's Kingdom, as conqueror of the whole world of the infidels, as the plan-ning, suffering, fighting Warrior for the honor and will of the Father.''1 In so far as he is a son of Ignatius, then, the 3esuit-strives to see "how the Lord of the whole world chooses persons, and sends them out the whole wor!d over, spreading His sacre~t doctrine: 'My will is to.conquer the whole world of the infidels; whoever will come with Me must work by day and watch by night, so as to share in the~ ultimate victory'." Since every one readily concedes that a Benedictine, a Franciscan, or a Jesuit, will eachconduct a specific type of retreat, I do not think it should be considered strange if various religions orders represent differing currents in the Church's li.turgical life. The modern apostolate of the lit-urgy affords ample scope for the labors of every order, and the religious, along with the pastoral clergy, have all their part in the Opus Dei. Let us enter an abbey church, as I have visited many in Eurgpe and several in this country. We are struck at once by the enormous size, especially, as a rule, by the towering height of the enclosed space. Dominating the whole inte-rior is usually a majestic fresco of Christ looking down' from. the high curve of the apse. Of almost equal promin-ence to the casual visitor are the serried choir-stalls, row on long row, each rising higher than the preceding. In ~ccord with the recommendatibn that the Blessed Sacrament be not reserved" at the altar before which the choir-functions are performed (canon 1268), the high altar does not enthrone the Eucha.rist, but none can fail to sense the very real way 1Translated from P. Lippert, Zur Ps~fcbologie des desuitefiorden (Miinchen: K6s¢l, 1912), pp. 26, 27. 246 DIFFERING CURRENTS IN THE LITURGY, TOO in which the heavenly Christ lends His glorified Presence, so to speak, go the holy place. "Thou, O Christ, art King of glory!" The entire passage of the Te Deum from which this ~jacul.ation is quoted proclaims as with trumpets what We might call the devotional atmosphere of the buiding. Here day by day and night by night the monk works at the work of God. O~ce he has been ordained, the priest-monk's own private~ Mass will be, as a rule, in some distant side-altar chapel. His daily conventual Mass, preceded and followed by one of the Canonical Hours, is ideally always a High Mass, at Which he himself is engaged, in singing either ¯ the Ordinary, or also the Proper as well. Every public Mass for the priest-monk is a sung Mass; every weekday is ¯ in this respect like.Sunday. In another very real sense "the Sunday atmosphere" pervades the abbey church. The calendar of the Romano- 'Monastic Rite, which is the Church's liturgy as given to the monks, minimizes Masses in honor of the saints, to multi-ply those of Sundays and ~:e.riae, on which, outside of Lent, the Mass of the preceding Sunday is repeat.ed. Thus, the "calendar for 1942 provided for a maximum of about 130 ¯ days on which Mass might be offered in honor of the Bles-sed V!rgin, the Angels, or Saints, despite the fact that the saints of the great Benedictine family are legion. Two out of every three' Masses were of the Dominical cycle, with the Saints being commemorated. ~ We enter in turn a Franciscan church. Here the altar" can be proportionately closer to the people, because the choir-stalls are set in a walled-off oratory at the side. .The peoplenever attend the ch0ir-service of the friars. But diocesan priests and regulars of orders founded.after that of St: Francis should .take a very lively interest in that choir-service, since the Roman Brevihry we use is a gift from the Franciscans. There was not, up to the thirteenth century, 247 GERALD ELLARD p a fixed arrangement of the Divine Office, obligatory on all as to details. Nor was it necessary, as long as the Office was performed in choir, that all its parts be found in one and the same volume. But just at the timeof the Poor Little Man of Assisi the papal curia was often abroad on trips, and this exigency of travel was then creating a breviary in which Psalms, Scripture lessons, and biographical lessons ,were all contained in one book. Francis, legislating for friars who were to go everywhere, stipulated in the Rule of 1223: "Let the clerics perform their Office according to the arrangement of the Holy Roman Church," by which he meant this new papal breviary then developing. The upshot, of this was that the breviary, as then 'definitely "fixed" for the Franciscans, was soon adopted by Rome and became that of the entire sphere of the Roman Rite. But it is with. the Mass-book, the Missale Semphico-t~ or~ar~tzro, the Church;s liturgy as given to the' friars, that we are more interested. One will note how the feasts of saints have multiplied, there being in the 1942 calendar about 240 days on which Masses are from the Sanctoral Cycle: mimbilis Det, s ir~ ,ar2cti~ ,tds. The' book is well named "Seraphic," because no less than 89 days provide Masses for the Saints and Blesseds of the Franciscan family. The psychological atmosphere, what we might call the "feel" of the Se.raphic Missal, may perhaps be illustrated by referring to the two great Franciscan sequences which the Church has put into our Roman Missal, the Dies I~ae, known with certainty only as of Franciscan authorship, and the Stabat Mates, which scholars now ascribe to Bona-venture, founder after Francis of Franciscanism. Perhaps, when we enter the Franciscan church, we find the church densely crowded, and the Forty Hours' Exposi-tion in progress. This is a typically Franciscan devotion, as common .today as the Christmas Crib or the Way of the 248 DIFFERING CURRENTS IN THE LITURGY; TOO Cross. Very likely a fiotice near the entrance will direct our attention to the fact that an evening service in honor of S~. Anthony is scheduled for later in the week. This serv-ice, we are told, will consist of the recitation of the rosary, hymn-singing, and "Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. There is nothing specifically .Franciscan about any single feature in that devotional pattern, and the pattern itself is ~epeated in practically every church in the land. True, it is not the the classic Opus Dei of Benedictine surroundings, but it can provide for popular participation in the public worship of the Church and is conducted according to norms approved by her "(Canon 1256). Granting that some of these devotional exercises co01d be~ from the litur-gical point of view, a good deal better,let us also freely grant that they are basically qood. Since there was mention a moment ago of classical Benedictinism, it is gratifying to recall that an American Benedictine translated and published the words of a Euro-pean writer dealing with this very problem of popular devotions: "Today, as in ~he past,.the~e must prevail in this d~partment of liturgical activity a certain largeness of scope and adaptation. We must be ready, to give proper recognition in the lituygy to those elemefits of popular reli-gious exercises in which the devotion of the people is really and truly expressed. And the same can be said of popular devotional hymns.''2 Just as the Gospel' of Frai~ciscan4ove has never been exhausted, so there is still, room in the lit-urgy for yet further Franciscan, and other, devotional additions. " , Ignatius, that would-be, crusader, and actual com-mander of troops, would have a man withdraw for a space, "to abide in all possible privacy; so that he may be free to ~J. A. Jungmann, Liturqical Worship, translated' by "a monk [Rev. Otto Eisen-zimmer] of St. John's Abbey. (New York: Pustet, 1941), p. 123. 249 GERALD ELLARD go daily to Mass and Vespers, without any fear of his acquaintances getting in his,way," and in this privacy study Christ's-plan of salvation against the ever-recurring questions: "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I,do for Christ?" Ignatius, too, would have all influenced by him praise, as very touch-stones of orthodoxy, "chants, Psalms, long prayers in church, the Hours appointed for the Divine ONce, and all Canonical Hours" (Sp(ritual Exercises). "But because the occupations which are assumed for the good of so_uls,'.: he states in his Constitutions, "ore both .important and pressing, and the term of our residence in any place uncer-tain, the members of the Society will not recite the Canon-ical Hours in choir.'" Hence, neither before the altar, nor in an adjacent ora-tory, does one find dhoir-sialls in the liturgical setting of the Jesuit's life. This is not a Jesuit singularity; the same is true for most ~of the clerks regular of post-Reformation institutes. Save that the feasts of his order are celebrated, the Jesuit, like other clerks regular, follows the Roman Rite in all particulars. The liturgical pattern of a Jesuit's nor-mal routine (unless he is assigned to par6chial work) is that he celebrates low Mass, and, as far as he assists at Mass, it 1s a low Mass ordinarily, a High Mass very rarely. Thus these three orders, which we are taking as repre-senting religious p~iests generally, have each their differing modes of carrying out the sacred liturgy of the Catholic Church. Conditioned, then, and to a degree limited, by the liturgical practices of his religious institute,-the monk; the friar, or the clerk regular comes as retreat-master, or missionary,or week-end assistant, into the parish. There he is confronted by the full and majestic program of tl~e liturgical movement in all its manifold phases. In con-junction with the pastoral clergy, each religious will apply 250 DIFFERING CURRENTS IN THE LITURGY, TOO the principle of active lay-participation in the situation as encountered, and with the tools he has and can handle. This should amply.explain to the parish priests them-selves, or recall to interested observers of other religious orders, the reasons for" these somewhat diff.ering concepts of the scope and aims of the liturgical movement. The variation in emphasis is kimply unavoidable, given hiaman limitations. True, the several.interpretations are partial, but each is valid and true hs far as it goes, and each is an integral component in the symphony of praise ascending to God in the O/~u~ Dei. In abbey, convent, chapel, and church, if there is no single liturgical strait jacket, there is still what a tireless scholar of the last century used to ca!l the one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic liturgy. BOOKLETS Father Foley's article on the Catholic Action Cell, in the May, 1943, number of the REVIEW, seems to have stirred considerable interest among many of our readers. These rea~lers (and perhaps many others) should be interested in "The Technique of the Catholic Action Cell Meeting, compiled by the Reverend Stephen Anderl and Sister M. Ruth, F.S.P.A. The compilers drew their material largely from the Priests' Bulletin, published by the Catholic Action Federations of the Archdiocese of Chicago, from articles by Father William Boyd in Orate Fratres, and from Mr. Eugene Geissler's book, The Training of Lay l~eaders. Father Anderl and Sister M. Ruth have dbne a-good job of compiling and offer many practical sug-gestions for organizing a cell and conducting, a meeting. 'The booklet costs 15 cents and can be obtained from St. Rose Convent, LaCrosse, Wisconsin. The Third Order Director is a pamphlet containing practical hints for adminis-tering the Third Order. It should be helpful not only to priest moderators, but also to Brothers and Sisters of various religious communities who are now in charge i of' Third Order groups. The pamphlet covers all practical details briefly and clearly. Price: 15 cents. Office of Publication: Third Order of St. Francis in the U. S., 3200 Mera'mec St., St. l-ouis, Mo. 251 'Advice I:o a New Superior By a oSpiritual Director, IN MY CAPACITY of spiritual director, I have been asked several times for advice by newly appointed reli-gious superiors. I have always considered these requests very seriously beforeGod; and the advice given, simple though it was, appears to have been helpful to the superiors who asked it. The points they seem to have appreciated most are the following. Humilitg , Ecclesiasticus tell~ us: "The greater thou art, the more humble tfiyselfin all things" (3:30). In another 151ace (32:1), the same sacred writer admonishes us: "Have tl-iey . made thee ruler? be not lifted up: be among them as one of them." Similar advice our Lord gave to His disciples: "You know that .those who are regarded as rulers among the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. But it is not so among you. On the . contrary, whoever wishesto become great shall be your servant; and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be the slave of all; for the Son of Man also has not come to be served but to serve, and. to give .his life as a ransom for many" (Mark 10:42-45). Behold your model, who was in the midst of His disciples as "one who serves" (Luke 22:27) ; there is no better model than Jesus. Justice and Kindness "And even as you wish mento do to .you, so also do you to them" '(Luke 6:31). There is your rule of action according to the maxim of Christ. Treat your subjects now as you wanted to be treated by your superior when 252 ADVICE TO A NEW SUPERIOR 3iou were a subject. Be a father (or mother) to them. Let your love and good .will be equal towards all; beware of favoritism, which is a source oof discord in a community. Be kind to the sick, have regard for the aged,.be considerate with the young. B~ sincere with your. subjects, "knowing that their Lord who is als0 your Lord is in heaven, and that with him there is no respect of persons" (Ephesians 6:9). Never betray their confidence, so that they may always trust you; for confidence once lost will seldom be fully .regained. If you should make a mistake or unwittingly ¯ wrong .a subject, do not hesitate to admit your mistake and to undo the wrong, for no one is infallible. Thus you.will give your subjects an example of humility and of justice, and it will increase their esteem for you and their confidence in you. Provide generou_sly for all their needs; never be niggardly with them on the plea of poverty. Try to produce a cheerful spirit in your community especially in time of recreation. This is the time for reli-gious to relax after the strain of the day's work; it is not to be a wake, Don't do all the talking yourself, and let not your presence be a damper on your subjects' joy. "Be among them as one of them." Let all join in to make the recreation religiously pleasant. The result will be. a greater spirit.of recollection during the time of silence. Prudence Avoid extremes in all things. Virtue takes a middle course. Be slow to judge and slower to condemn; hear both sides with equal patience and charity. Make no important decision without mature deliberation. Lean not too much on your own Wisdom; take counsel with a competent, unbiased, trustworthy and experienced person. If neces-sary, get the approval of your higher superior. But-- what is more important still--have recourse .to the Holy 253 ¯ A SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR Ghost, the Spirit, of Truth, that He may enlighten you to choose what is best. Firmness B~ firm, but with a firmness always tempered with' charity, prudence, and mercy; a firmness free from harsh-ness and severity. Be meek, but with a.meekness that is not weakness. Rule ~.tour communit!t b~t your example rather than. b~/~/our words. "Even if a person is caught doing .something wrong, you who are .spiritual instruct such a one in a spirit of meekness, considering thyself, lest thoualso be.tempted" (Galatians 6: 1). DO not reproach your sub-jects or nag them, but charitably call their attention to .what ought to be corrected. Never act on the .spur of the moinent, especially under the influence of any passion, lest you commit a graver fault than the one you are trying to correct; but go first to consider the matter before Jesus in the Blessesd Sacrament. Pra~/er " Cultivate a spirit of prayer. Often betake yourself to the Tabernacle, and there lay your problems before Jesus, saying to Him in the words of the Psalmist (69:1), "O God, come to my assistance; O Lord, make haste to. help me." Keep in touch with God at all times and hnder all circumstances in a spirit of Faith. And in your prayer, examine yourself from time to time on the various bits of advice given here. 254. S :udies During !:he Novifia :e Adam C. Ellis, S.J STANDARDS for the.teaching and other professions are high in the United States, and demand long years of careful preparation, It is not' surprising then to find religidus superigrs eager to have their subjects continue their studies as soon as possible after entering religion. Hence arises the practical .question: what about studies during the novitiatd? We shall, try to learn the mind of the Church through a brief study of her legislation on thissub, ject. Legislation of the Church I. On June 28, 1901, the Sacred Congregation of Bishops and Regulars issued a set of regulations called Normae for the government of religious institutes with simple vows. Article 73 of these regulations forbade all studies during the first year of novitiate in all cases, that is, whether one or two years of novitiate were had. Article 74 allowed a moderate amount, of study during the second year for those institutes which had two years .of novitiate. Nothing was prescribed regarding the nature of these studies. II. In 1908 Pope Pius X reorganized the Roman Curia and divided the Congregation of Bishops and Regulars into two new Congregation's, the second of which was called the Sacred Congregation of Religious and was given complete and exclusive jurisdiction over all re.ligious, both of orders and of congregations. On August 27, 1910, this new Congregation, with the explicit approbation of Pope Pius X, issued ~an instruc- 255 .~DAM C. ,ELLIS tion,. Ad Exploraf~durn Anirnum, regarding studies during the novitiate in all order~ and congregations of men. - In a preamble the Instruction first stated that the pur~ pose of the novitiate is to test the mind of the novice and gradually to imbue it with the spirit of religious perfec-tion by means of various spiritual exercises. Then a com-mon .experience was cited: namely, ~the fact that the con-stant- practice of pious exercises, even though they be varied, tends to 'tire the mind, especially in.the case of young people, and, when exercised cofitinually in the course of the day, is apt to render the will less attentive to them. Finally the advantages of a moderate amount of study during the n6vitiate were called to mind: for the novic,es, by helping them to retain what they havb already learned; for superiors, bygiving them some .idea of the talents, aptitude, and diligence of the novices. In order that this moderate ~amount of study might safeguard the novices from the strain.ot~ the constant prac-tice of spiritual exercises, and in. order to obtain the bene-fits'just mentioned, the Instruction laid down the fol. lowing regulations which were made obligatory for all: 1) Novices should devote themselv~es to private ¯ study one hour each day, except Sundays andfeast days. 2) The master of novices, or his assistant, or one of the professors of humanities, should supervise these studies. This same person might .give instruction to the assembled novices for one hour, three times a week at most. over and above the daily hour of private study. 3) While these instructions given in common .were not to be considered as regular classes "(veri norninis schola censeri nequeat), still they should not be a mere exercise in mortification. Hence the novices should apply themselves seriously so as to derive real profit from them. Studies taken up should correspond to the nature of the 256 STUDIES DURING THE NOVITIATE order or congregation. The vernacular, Latin and G~:eek, were recommended, either by way of repetition of what the novices had already learnt, especially in the matter of grammar, or by way of reading selections from the works of the Fathers and ancient ecclesiastical writers outstand-ing for their literary style. Ambrose, 'jerome, Lactantius, ,John Chrysostom, and Eusebius, as.well as the Greek texts of.St. Luke's Gospel and of the Acts of the Apostles, were ¯ cited as examples of such readings. Written and oral exercises were also recommended. 4) The instructor presiding ox;er these studies should give a written report on the diligence and progress of ea.ch novice to the superior general or provincial before the novices were admitted to the profession of vows. III. The Code of Canon Law, which was promul-gated on Pentecost Sunday, May 27, 1917, and which began to bind one year later, Pentecost Sunday, May 19, 1918, has this brief statement doncerning studies in-the novitiate: "During the year of novitiate the novices . . . are not to devote themselves (dedita opera vacate) to the formal study of letters, scienc.es, or arts',' (canon 565, § 3). The Code, th.erefore, does not retain the obligations of either the Norrnae or the Instruction. However, these documents, particularly the InstrUction (which is cited as one of the sources of the canon), may be Used in inter-preting the present legislation. In the light of this former legislation, we may say that it is within the spirit of the present law to allow a moderate amount of time for study in the novitiate, provided such study does not interfere with the principal purpose of ~he novitiate which is "to form the novice in the mould o~ the religious life by prayer, meditation, the study of the rules and constitu-tions, instruction regarding the vows and the virtues, exercises suitable to the acquiring of virtue and the 257 ADAM C. ELLIS uprooting Of vice, as well-as to regulating the moverhents ofthe soul (canon 565, § 1)." IV. Pope Pius XI sent an Apostolic Letter, Unigeni-tus De~ Filius, dated March 19, 1924, to all supe.riors gen-eral of orders and congregations of religious men, regard-ing the selection and training of subjects. Two para-graphs of this letter are pertinent to our subject. The first pertinent paragraph contains the studies to be required of candidates for admission to the novitiate of a.clerical institute. It refids as follows: "You must see to it, therefore, that after the young candidates for the reli-gious life have been seasonably and prudently selected, they receive, along with such training in piet~r as is suited to their age, instruction in secondary studies which ,are usually given in schools and colleges; sb that they do not enter the novitiate until they have ~ompleted the curricu-lum of the so called 'humanities,' unless in individual cases rather grave reasons mal~e it advisable to provide other-wise." For the United States this is interpreted as meaning the completion of High SchOol studies, including Latin. .For the duration of the war, owing to the present draft laws, superiors would be justified in admitting candidates. ~to the novitiate who have not ~ompleted their High School studies. Such studies, however, should be completed after the novitiate, before the study of philosophy is begun. This is prescribed in an Instruction of the Sacred Congregation. of Religious, dated .December 1, 1931, regarding the training and testing of religious candidates for the priesthood. The second paragraph of the Pope's letter pertinent to the subject under discussion insists on devoting the time of the novitiate to the exclusive spiritual training of the novices. He says: "Putting-aside all worldly amusements and studies 6f all branches whatsoever, let the novices 258 STUDIES. DURING THE NOVITIATE devote themselves, under the wise direction of their mas-ter, to the exercises of the interior life, .and to the acquire- .ment of virtue, especially of those.virtues which are closely connected with the vows of religion, that is, poverty, obedience and chastity~" V. Finally we have an Instruction of the Sacred Con-gregation of Religious, dated November 25, 1929, regarding the teaching of Christian Doctrine to all mem-bets bf lay insti.tutes of men-and women. The pa~'t referring to novices reads as follows: "During the time of probation and novitiate the young men and women shall reviewtheir Christian Doctrine and learn it more thor-oughly, so that each one shall not only know it by heart, but also be able.to explaifi it correctly; nor shall they be admitted to take the vows without a sufficient knowledge thereof, and a previous examination." Norms For Present Practice Taking into consideration all the documents qtmted above, we may formulate the principles regarding studies during the novitiateas .follows: Christian Doctrine must be studied, by all novices of lay institutes for the purpose of reviewing what they already know as well as of acquiring a deeper kov~ledge of their holy religion. In order to attain this end, it is very desirable that formal classes .in which the Christian Doc-trine is explained by a capable teacher be held once or twice a week. The teacher may be either a priest or an older, experiencedreligious. No other studies are .of obligation in the novitiate. How.ever, it is not contrary to the mind of the Church to devote a moderate amount of time to such studies, pri-vately or in class. In fact, this may be positively encour-aged, provided the purpose of these studies be kept in view and all harmful effects be eliminated. 259 ADAMC. ELLIS The purpose of these studies is to benefit the novices by helping them to retain the knov~ledge they have. already acquired, as well as by providing them with some neces-sary relaxation from the strain of multiple religiousexer., _cises. A secondary consideration is the information made available to superiors regarding the talents and diligence of the novices. Such studies must not be made a major item in the daily order of the novitiate; nor may they be allowed to become a source of distraction or detriment to the .spii:- itual life of the novice. Hence it seems obvious that no formal courses of instruction may be allowed whose sole purpose is to impart knowledge With a view to credits. Some Practical Suggestions Such are the principles to be followed in making plans' for studies inthe novitiate. .,in the application of these princil~les, superiors may find the following suggestions helpful: 1) The study of the English language is generally useful. In this connection, some few classes at least in spelling may be necessary, since this subject has become a lost art for many of our young.people. 2) For clerical institutes, _as well as for lay institutes in which the Divine Office or the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin is recited in Latin, a moderate study of that lan-guage is recommended. Its.purpose should be to ground the novices,in the essentials of grammar and simple corn- ,position. 3) The fundamentals of Bible-and Church History may be given either separately, or in conjunction with the study of Christian Doctrine. 4) Tr,aining in Gregorian Chant is desirable for all 260 STUDIES DURING THE NOVITIATE novices. Two half-hour periods per week would not. seem too much for this important subject. .5) Some practice in penmanship for those whose writing is hardly legible is to be encouraged. 6) As to foreign l'anguages, it is certainly desirable that the. novices should not forget what they have already learned; and each novice should be encouraged to keep up a.ny one of these languages to which he has already devoted one or more years of study. This may be d6ne by private reading or, if. the numbers warrant it, by some classesheld during the summer months. It does riot seem to be in keeping with the mind of the Church for a novice to begin the study of a .modern language. 7) Ten to fifteen .miiautes of setting up exercises daily will prove helpful to all novices, provided these exercises are given for reasons of health, and not to impart the science, of ph~csical education. 8) Courses in p~dagogy and education, as well as in the sciences, mathematics, and profane history, are out of place in the. novitiate. 9) As to the fine arts, they have no place in the novi-tiate curriculum. Specially gifted novices who hive had considerable .previous training might be allowed a mod-erate amount of practice in music or drawing during the second year of novitiate. Amount ot: Time to be Det~oted to Study Exclusive of the classes in Christian Doctrine and Plain Chant, not more than five hours a. week should be devoted to private study, and not more than three hours a week to class work. This is the norm laid down by the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious and 'approved by-Plus X. In place of three periods of sixty minutes each, it may be found more convenient to have 261 ADAM C~. ELLIS four class periods per week of forty-five minutes eaeh. ~Atthe most, relatively little time m.ay be given to study during the novitiate, and it is evident that only one or the other subjec~ suggested above can be satisfactorily treated. I~: is much better to concentrate on one or two subjects than to try to .get a smattering of four or five in the time.allotted. Non multa sed multum applies here if anywhere: Conclusion Religious superiors should ever keep in mind that the sole purpose of the novitiate is the religious training of th~ novices. Let them ponder the words of Pope Plus XI in the "letter of March 19, 1924: "Let "the novices never for-get that they will be for the rest of their lives such as they were in the novitiate, and that ordinarily it is most useless to hope that a novitiate once made with little o~ no fruit, can be supplied later on by a renewal of the spirit of the novitiate." It is, therefore, a very shortsighted policy, and one detrimental to the best interests of the religious institute as a whole, to. attempt to introduce into the novi-tiate any kind of formal courses of studies with a view to professional standing in later life. As we have seen, the reasons for allowing any study at all in the novitiate are to. help the novices retain, the knowledge they have already acquired, and to add a certain amount of pleasant variety-to the regular 'orde~ of spiritual.duties and exercises, thus helping them to avoid any overstraining of the" nervous system which may result in physicalor rnentaI exhaustion, and may manifest itself in scruples or melancholia. Let superiors be. conv.inced that after a fervent novitiate the young religious will devote themselveswholeheartedly to their studies, and in a short time make up for any apparent loss dt~e to a lack of formal study during the novitiate. 262 Scruples versus Chas :it:y Gerald Kelly, S.J. IN THE MAY, 1942, number of this REVIEW (I, p. 187) the readers were introduced to Scrupulosus, a typical victim of that gnawing and ~ unfounded fear of sin known as scruples. In the article referred to it was pointed out that a supreme difficulty for Scrupulosus is to acquire the "human way of acting": he is unable to-resign himself to the fact that human problems cannot be solved with the exactness of mathematical problems. Two examples of his diffi-culty-- confession and the Eucharistic fast--were described in the former article; the present article deals with a third. " Perhaps no other sphere of human life entails as much mental torture for Scrupulosus as does the practice of chastity. This is hardly surprising, because the practice of chastity demands a special blending of idealism an~t common sense. Though often referred to ¯ as "the angelic virtue," chastity is essentially a human virtue and it must be practised in a human way. Before illustrating Scrupulosus' problem with chastity, it may be well to call attention to certain cases which" very likely are not real scrupulosity. I refer to those casesin which, though many symptoms of scrupulosity are present, the basic difficulty is rather ignorance than fear. For instance, there are some good people who suffer from an undue axiety regarding chastity because they really do not know what chastity is. At some time in their lives they got the notion that ¯ chastity includes just about everything pertaining to the discipline of the senses and the affections; and because of this erroneous widening of the scope of. chastity they are unnecessarily fearful of.violating the virtue. T'his type of worry can be dispelled by the simple process of obtaining correct information as to the meaning.of chastity. Other good people know, at least in a general way, the scopeof chastity, but do not know the difference between temptation and sin in this matter. Such people are ignorant of 'the simple principle that u2hat is not udlful cannot be sinful. They are apt to brand as sinful, imagi'nations and feelings that are no more wilful than a shudder or the blink of an eyelash. They set themselves to do the impossible, that is, to exclude even spontaneous sense impulses; and when they 263 GERALD KELLY 'have failed to do this, the~" think they have sinned. The obvious result is discouragement, "worry, fear: the. obvious remedy is instruc-- tion. Our genuine.Scrupulosus knows the meaning of chastity and of sin; in fact, he may have even a superior degree of theoretical knowl-edge. But be is afraid to apply it practically to himself. F~ar enslaves him and paralyzes his judgment. He does not trust himself; he can-not or will not, put his confidence in God. In the previous article about Scrupulosus we contrasted his con-duct with that of Humanus, who was considered as typical of the ordinary sincere human being. Perhaps it may help to continue this contrast Wi~h re~ard to some of the normal problems of chastity. Take the question of "bad thoughts." Both Humanus and Scrupulos.us are subject to them, and each has characteristic reactions to them. Humanus knows, of course, that disturbing imaginations are apt to come unbidden into. the mind and that they are often accom-panied by tempting feelings and impulses. Nevertheless, though not impruden~t, he is not afraid of them nor perpetually on, the looko.ut for them. When they do pass through his mind, he ignores them. Even when they persist and grow strong, he is usually content with the quiet judgment, "I don.'t want these things," a'short aspiration for grace, and a sincere, calm. attempt to think of other things. Occa- .sionally he may find it advisable to read a book to distract t-fimself. Now and then he even has dotibts about his guilt; but these doubts are not a. source of worry for him. He knows this is a human prob-lem, and he deals with it the human way. Unlike Humanus, Scrupulosus is afraid of bad thgughts, o When he hasn't any, he is afraid that he will have them; and this makes him more susceptible to them. And when they do come, his fear .that he will give in to them incites him to engage them immediately in an interior wrestling match instead of resorting to the much more salu-tary. method of ignoring them. ~t isa wrestling match that seldom results in a complete victory for Scrupulosus. " His common sense tries to draw him away from ¯ the combat with the quiet, cheery message: "Dofi't bother, about these things. If you let them alone they won't hurt you. Rem(mber it's not :your fault they're here. Involuntary things are. never sinful." But the voice of his fear, louder hnd sharper than that of common sense, goads him on. "That's just the point," argues fear. "'Are they SCRUPLES VERSUS CHASTITY involuntary? They're pleasant, aren't they? Maybe you do want them! Maybe you did something that brought them on! Maybe. they're the result of your other ~ins! And even if you don't want them now, maybe you will want them. You'd better act fast. You'd better pitch them out right now, or you'll be gu'ilty of mortal sin." ¯ Blinded by fear, Scrupulosus ignores the voice of cofnmon sense. He tries to shake the thoughts out of lqis head; he clenches his fists; he prays desperately. He keeps his nerves at bowstring tautness, so that fear can play his haunting challenge on them~ And when the temptation is over--for a while---he looks back on it with the eyes of fear. He dare not decide that he didn't sin; yet he's not sure that he did. Then he's not sure that he isn't sure; and in the end he suc-cumbs not to a judgment, but tO a despairing conviction dictated by fear: "I guess-I must have sinned!" The foregoing are more or less typical reactions to involu6tary and unforeseen thoughts .and feelings. Another problem concerns " oluntary~thoughts and actions that are good' in themselves, but which are quite likely to be accompanied by temptations against chastity. There are many such thoughts and actions: for example, the study of the Sixth Commandment, the study of physiology, nor-mal social dealings with certain attractive persons, the care of the sick, the care of one's own body, reading that contains suggestive descriptions, and so forth. Many people know from experience that such things as ,these are apt to excite impulses and feelings that would be unchaste if deliberately indulged in. Hence arises the problem: must all such thoughts and actions be avoided? For determining whether any deliberateaction or-line of thought that is likely to result in physical disturbances andtemptatdns against chastity is permissible, the following set of questions is simple, yet scientifically sound: (1) Is the action itself impure? If it is~ it is wrong; if it is not, the remaining questions are applicable. (2) Is my motioe impure, that is, am I seekifig to arouse passion or trying to lead on to an impure action? (3) Have I a r~asonable assurance of preseroing self-control, if I should be tempted? (4) Have I a relatio.ely su~cient reason for this particular action or line of thought --in other words, is the good to be accomplished of sufficient value to justify my tolerating the physic~al reactions and te, mptation? For example, consider the case of. one who needs iristruction con-cerning chastity. It may be that the instruction itself, at least in the 265 GERALD KELLY .beginning, will be a source of disquiet to him. Foreseeing this diffi-culty, he can satisfy the demands of conscience by applying the four questions to his problem. The application might run somewhat as follows: (1) The action? Certainly the study of chastity is/not wrong in itself, other-wise not even priests could study or give information. ~2) The motioe? . In this case the purpose is to obtain useful, even necessary information, and the eventual, peace of mind that comes with it. "The evil effects adcompanying.the study are merely tolerated. (3) controI? This is is a personal problem; yet the normal good person who is not accus.tomed to sin against chastity and who is willing to ¢ta'ke the ordinary means of safeguarding his will against temptation usual!y has a reasonable assurance on this point. (4) SuOicient -Reason? Such reasons are relati~re, depending on the degree of the. disturbance and the force of ~he temptation. In this case, since the information is really useful, even necessary, it constitutes a sufficient reason for tolerating even strong physical reactions and ~temptations. The first of the questions would seldom pr.esent serious difficulty to anyone who is well-instructed as to the meaning of chastity, though, of'course, it is the great stumbllng-block for the ignorant. But it is well to note that the other three questions can rarely be answered with perfect exactness. They carry us definitely into the human sphere; they involve delicate subjective elements and the weighing of .rather intangible pros and cons. Most people have to be content with answering" these according to a "rough estimate." Humanus doesn't mind "rough estimates." He makes them often in all spheres Of life. Why should he demand more in the matter of chastity? Suppose," for instance, that his work calls for.the .reading of a book that he kfiows will be a source of some disturbance to him. His motive? Well, he knows he might deceive himself; yet he is not conscious of any impure motive or self-deception now, and he does have a rather obvious good purpose. Hence he coficludes that his motive is good. His self-control? .Yes, he has occasionally lost self' cofltrol in temptation, but it was only occasional, and he now h~s whatappears to be a prudent confidence that he can control himself; so hedoesn't-worry about that point. Does the good outweigh the evil? Humanus knows that he cannot put the good' effects of his action on one side of a scale and the evil effects on the other; but he also knows that the reading is necessary, or at least definitely useful. 266 SCRUPLES VERSUS CHASTITY for his work, and his good sense tells him that this outweighs merely unintentional physical reactions and.temptations. 'Life is seldom all white; a bit of black must often be tolerated. Scrupulosus detests "rough estimates." Each of the last three questions affords his fear a veritable field day. "How do you know you have a good motive? Lots of people act from hidden impure motives. You yourself fiave had evil motives before. You're just trying to cover, up your guilt so that you can enjoy yourself . . .'. "As for self-col~trol, .haven't you 10st it before? Even if your motive were good now, how could you know you wouldn't weaken? This temptation may be especially strong. Remember what the Scrip-ture says about the man who thinketh himself to stand. You're putting yourself in th'e proximate occasion of sin right now; and that means you're already sinning . "Good and evil! How can you balance, good and evil? A little bit'of evil outweighs a vast amount of good. Furthermore, how do you know this reading is useful or necessary? You don't really need it. You could get along without it. It's easy to deceive yourself into thinking things are necessary .or useful when pleasure is connected verb them. That's what" you're doing now--decei'~ing yourself. Then you'll go. to confession and deceive your confessor." But remem- ¯ bet: ~ou can't dece[oe God!" The second struggle ends in the same manner as the first--with Scrupu.losus a beaten man. If he does the things he has a perfect right to do, his fear continues to plague him, especially with the taunt that he is acting "against his conscience"; if he doe~ not do these things, he is deprived of many useful, even necessary benefits of' normal human living. And even then h~ is not at peace. The result of these interior conflicts is often a profdund ~tiscour-agement. Scrupulosus may begin to look upon chastity as something impossible for him, and this leads to the very ~eal danger that he will cease to care whether he practises it. His scruples, unlike a truly delicate conscience, become the worst enemy to his chastity. One remedy for this condition is to relax. If Scrupulosus can-not climb the fence, perhaps he can duck under it. And how can' he relax? By trying, to see the real absurdity of his frantic efforts to be absolutely certain of things; by living a normal life, despite the pain of fear; by trusting himself more; and by trusting and loving God. 267 Beating t:he Air in Prayer [EDITORS' NOTE: During the course of the discussion on spiritu.al direction, a priest who is. interested in the subject of "direction concerning prayer" sent us a long letter on the subject. We were unable to print the letter at that time. We are publishing it now under the title, Bea.ting the Air in Prat.ler.] THE NEED of spiritual direction presupposes the need of progress in the interior life, and one of th~ common gages of such pro-gress is prayer. Father Leen remarks: "It is a sad thing that of all those who start' out with such confidence and such good. will on the supernatural life, so few attain to any marked degree of spiritua, l-ity . Resistance to grace is the reason of the absence of gkowth in the spiritual life. Yet it would be hard to say that resistance,to grace is in the majority of cases deliberate. It is quite possible that it may proceed from want of spiritual enlightenment and that great numbers of failures are to be attributed not to bad will but to imperfect under-standing'. One who has some expekience in dealing with souls°. cannot fail to remark that very many good and promising beginnings end in disappointment and discouragement" (Prooress Through Mental Pra~er, pp. 13, 14). One is forced to concur With that judgment. The conviction grows with repeated experience that an understanding of progress in prayer is not as widespread as it sh6uld be. For instance is it not an implicit denial of anything like progress in prayer to expect that older religious" will pray in exactly the same way and according to the same ~method as novices? Yet in some plates the same matter for prayer is read to all, and, worse' still, it 'is read aloud during the very time of prayer, thus making it impossible for those who should be practiced in mental prayer to give to any one thing the prolonged attention of soul that should be characteristic of progressing prayer. One obstacle to progress in prayer is the fear that some s~uls entertain 'of progressing from strict meditation to the simpler forms of prayer, lest they be guilty of the heresy which they have heard called Quietism. A director who suggests a change is apt to be considered an innovator or anti-traditionalist. Yet sometimes a change is neces-sary. We are often fold, or we read, that we must be patient with aridity in prayer, that all God wants is the effort. It is true that He 268 ~EATING THE AIR IN PRAYER does want the effort; but is this all He wants? Do we not often put a great deal of energy and effort into merely "beating the air"? And as for the aridity, patience is nece.ssary, but patience is not a satisfac-tory solution to the problem if the' aridity comes simply from the fact that the form of prayer one has been using has accomplished its purpose and has nowbecome sterile. It is too hard to keep patient in such circumstances, too hard to keep exerting effort, and it happeng too often that souls give up all earnest me~atal prayer and simply "last out" the time 6f prayer in an uninterested and inacti;ce manner. It seems that some are ignorant of the need of progress in prayer because they do not know that even ordinary mental prayer has many forms and that it admits of progress from one form to the other. Those who do not know of these forms think that any mention of progress in prayer in~dicates a tendency toward "mysticism" and is therefore to be suspected. To these people, "relish" in prayer means merely sentimentality, feeling, or emotion; "effort" is the 0nly thing that counts. They mistrust anything that appears to go beyond the low foothills of out-and-out reasoned prayeL They consider that any prayer which does not result in a definite and concrete resolution with regard to some particular virtue or. vice is a fruitless prayer. Yet it is a princip!e of spiritual theology that progress in prayer should move away from sheer reasoning in the direction of simplicity. A second cause of failure to make progressin prayer is unwilling-ness to make the sacrifices necessary to persevere in recollection. Some use their work for the salvation and perfection of their neighbor as ari e~cu~e for riot wogking for their own perfection. This is~ absurd, because the tirst'purpose of any religious institute is the perfection of its own members. Utter absorption in working for others is accom-panied by a dissipation of mind and' energy that makes prayer unnec-essarily burdensome. It takes the interest from interior living which is our greatest need at the present time. Everyone who has tried to preserve recollection ifi the midst of intense external activity knows,, that it is diffictilt; but the difficulty is hardly an honest justification for neglect. Increasing self-abnegation is an indispensabl.e condition for progre.ss in prayer. Putting aside all rationalizing, most religious who do not try to make progress in prayer would have td admit that the real reason is that they are afraid of the self-abnegation involved. 269 Reviews. THE EXEMPTION OF: RELIGIOUS IN CHURCH LAW. By the Reverend Joseph D. O'Brien, S.J., S.T.D., J.C.D. Pp. xvil -t- 307. The Bruce Publ[shlncj Company, Milwaukee, 1943. $3.7S. Law, e~cleslastical as well as civil, is a living, thrivin~ organism, operating over an extensi,ce fi~ld of human~activity. While deriving its very vitality from" roots descending into God's own law, it must, in its daily operation, be adaptable to the oft-changing situations found among men. The flexibility of the ecclesiastical law's a1~li-cation "is made manifest by the frequent decisions, instructions and interpre~tations issued by the Holy .See, ever ready to meet, when possible, any new .situation that may affect the welfare of any class of her children. The periodic publication of these new prescription~ of the l'aw calls for a'corresponding revision of the Commentaries on the Code of Canon ~Law so that these new aspects of the law may receive appropriate consideration. One of the latest of such commen-taries is The Exemption or:. Religious in Church Law, the publica-tion of which marks the firs~ complete treatise on this subject writ-ten in English. ' Four grand divisions, further divi~ied and subdivided, form the complex pattern of Father O'B~ien's scholarly volume." Part I clears the ground° for an intelligent understanding of many of the questions'to be discussed in subsequent por.tions of the work by presenting the genuine meaning of many terms used without canoh-ical discrimination. Such words as "nun" and "order" are explained according to Canon 488. Popular usage often.tends to dull the fine canonical precision of such expressions. Our attention is next focussed on the juridical nature of exemption. The law of exemp-tion 6r immunity from the jurisdiction of the local Ordinary is expressed in Canon 61~: "Regulars, both men and women, in-cluding novices, except those nuns who are not subject to Regular superiors,, are exempt, together with their houses and churches, from the jurisdiction of the local Ordinary, except, in the cases pro-vided for-by la{v." Generally speaking, all the faithful residing within the diocesan limits are subject to ~he. spiritual rule of the local Bishop. The Sovereign Pontiff, however, within whose jurisdiction lies the Universal Church and each member thereof, has 270 BOOK REVIEWS seen fit to withdraw certain religious in.~titutes from the rule of the local Bishop and reserve their government to himself. Such is the meaning of exemption. Needless to say, the Holy See exercises this government of Regulars through the medium of their own supe- "riors. ¯ : A thorough analysis of the" jurisdiction exercised, over exempt religious and a further amplification of the notion of jurisdiction occupies the second part of this volume. Part III, easily the most 'important. section, enters into a detailed study of all the forms of religious activity exercised under the rule of the religious superior and independently of the local Ordinary. These details are handled with painstaking thoroughness over a space of 203.pages. Fol- !owing the classification of persons, plac.es and things, no aspect of religious activity is neglected. Part IV, "The Limitations. of Exemption," explains the juridical norm regulating the restrictions placed on this privilege by the Code .and supplies an enumeration of the cases expressed in the general law of the Code. In these excep-tional cases, the local Ordinary exercises jurisdiction over exempt as well as non-exempt persons. Human nature being what it is, Regular exemption did not opera/re ove~ a course of centuries without its vicissitudes. The occa-sional failure of Bishops and Regular prelates to recognize and to respect the rights of one anbther has caused at. times the straining of. relations if not regrettable conflicts between them. By her wi~e leg-islation, the Church has supplied an adequate preventive for many misunderstandings. A sound knowledge and a faithful ~ observance of the law of the Church will provide a solution to any problem that may arise among her children and will result in that apostolic harmony between Diocesan and Religious clergy that brought praise from the Fathers of the Third Plenary Council in Baltimore. For his very objective analysis~ of this point, Fr. O'Brien me.rits our commendation. ¯ The Exemption of Religious in Church Law is primarily a sci-entific commentary on 615 and related canons. The abundant cross-references presume a degree of familiarity with the structure and gbneral content of the Code of.Canon Law. It is to be kept in mind, however, that the Code is an integrated and highly system-atized body of laws, many of which are intimately .correlated No part or section of it may be studied properly without frequent 271 BOOK REVIEW~ ¯ references to other canons or sections of the Code. The complexity " of the question of exemption explains the frequent 'repetition by the author of fundamental notions--a repetition which serves to main-tain precision of tho.ught throughout the'entire volume. This study of the exerhption of Regulars is the fruit of long and patient investigation, as the ample bibliography and the countless citations testify. Roman documents, the great classics of Canon Law, and many modern commentarie~ bear eloquent witness to the author's scho!arship~ Pre-Code legislation on the subject of exemp-. tion is examined in order to point out the changes warranted by the varying circumstances over the course of .years. Differing opinions are carefully sifted and followed by a statement of the validity and 'practicability o~ the conclfisions reached. The foregoing sketchy estimate of Fr. O'Brien's treatise should not lead one to conclude that only the trained canonist will fully appreciate his efforts. All priests engaged in the directiofi-of reli-gious will find within the volume an answer to many of the ques~ tions periodically submitted by their charges. The fact, too, that a satisfying exposition of the general law of religious precedes the explanation of many points of exem15tion should extend the field of' interest in this work. A complete general index accompamed by an index of all the canons of the Code referred to will direct us to the different subjects that engage our interest or form the basis of'a problem calling for solution. Finally,' the thoroughness of the work, evident from the'vastness of the field covered and the num-berless questions discussed, cannot be too highly praised. Among the many excellent canonical treatises published during recent years, The Exemption of Religi~ous in Church Law merits indeed a place of distinction.--J. E. RISK, S.J. ON THE PRIESTHOOD. By. Saint John Chrysostom. Translated by the Reverend Patrick Boyle, C:.M. Pp. xl -1- 14S. The Newman Book Shop, WToesot mofintesnte rC, Mat~hIo., l1i9c4s: ]k. n$o1.w2S o. f their valiant predecessors. in tho~ Faith by hearsay rather than from having made contact with great . Christian minds'across the centuries. A thrill would b~ in store for th(m were they.to take in hand a book such as this and discbver for themselves how modern, in their timelessness, ar~ the doctrines and precepts they have inherited. 272 BOOK REVIEW$ St. John Chrysostom, an his.treatise On the Priesthood,.offers his friend Basil pertinent counsel regarding his duties and privileges as priest and bishop. Special attention is given to the greatness of the priestly vocation, the essential rules for Christian eloquence, and the priest's exterior ministry. The prospective reader need have no fear of being lost in an unfamiliar world. St. John ever aimed at bringing revealed truths to the understanding of the people in general, and his undying fame as popular preacher is proof that he succeeded. Cardinal Newman, as -'quoted in the introduction to this edition, has ~he folio.wing to say . of Chrysostom: ". He writes as one who was ever looking out with sharp but kind eyes upon the world of men and their history, and hence .he always has something to produce about~ them, new or old, to the purpose of his argument, whether from books or from the experience of life. Head and heart were full to overi~owing with a stream of mingled 'wine and milk,', of rich vigorous thought and affectionate feeling. This is why his manner of writing is so rare andspecial. " " First written more than fifteen centuries ago, On The Priesthood is a welcome addition/to the series of reprints being provided by the, Newman Book Shop. It has been called the finest of all Chrysostom's ¯ writings and the first great pastoral work ever written. --C. DEMUTH, S.J. THE BOOK OF CATHOLIC AUTHORS. Second Series. Edited with preface and notes by Walter Romicj. Pp. 312. Walter Romig and Company, Detroit, 194:L $2.20. The Second Series of The Book of Catholic Authors should be warmly received, especially by young Catholic writers, for whom it sdems to be particularly designed. Readers will be treated to a per-sonal interview, an inspirational chat with voyagers .in the field of Catholic letters who have arrived. Marshalled through its pages are many names that were regret-fully missed in the first group, personalities such as Bishop Francis C. Kelly, Rev. Owen Francis Dudley, Halliday Sutherland, Rev. Fran'cis LeBuffe, S.J., and John Moody. Priests, nuns, men and women of the world pass in disarming review and tell of their endeavors in becoming novelists, dramatists, historians, poets, essayists, l~ycholo-gists, spiritual writers. As informally and candidly as if it were a 273 BOOK REVIEWS conversation over the back fence while resting from the hoe'work on the Victory garden, they relate how they got thi~t way, their literary background and ~early struggles, the romance of the. best stiller that nobody wanted; punctuating their "do's"°and '~don'ts" with a flick of an imaginar.y .blade of grass, they offer practical advice to a~plring° authors. They plead the cause of Catholic v~riters. They are gen-erous with encouragement: "I becam~ a write~ because I am a'Cath-olic. There's something to write about when you're a Catholic." The sketches are pleasantly brief, but at the~ same time they are concentrated capsules of writer's vitamin, of antidote for the severest . . case of beginner's digcouragement.---~. F. ABBICK, S.J. TALES FROM THE RECTORY. By' the Most Reverend Francis clement Kelley. Pp. 193. The Bruce Pubilshing Company, Milwaukee, 1943. $2.2S. Every day all: over th~ world very ordinary PeoPle are passing.in and out of rectories, where from their pastor they receive added "stre.ngth tobear their burdens, kindly advice to solve their problems, and.sinceie sympathy in their sorrows. The pastors, too, have their own triumphs and failures. Bishop Kelley, author of many popu-lar books, has condensed many year~ of such pastoral experienc.e in this a.nthology of twenty.-four of his short stories. It is not s~rprising, therefore, that these stories are packed with interest for the reader. Like the p~rables of Christ, each has within it some gem of truth which may serve as a guide in everyday prob-. lems. As in the parables, that gem of truth is enhanced and b~ight-ened by the fact that it is set in a story whose characters are very real persons with very human emotions and reactions. In an atmosphere haunted with the grim realities of war, Tales from thd Rector~ is both a sedative for erratic emotions and a guide for bewildered minds. --J. W. NAUGHTON, ~.J. HOW TO THINK. By Arthur D. Fearon. Pp. 194. College Publishing "Company, San Francisco, 1943. (Price not listed.) The subtitle of this book is Hotu to Anal~cze, Associate, Memo-ri2e, Reason; but perhaps a more apt and appealing subtitle is indi-cated ixi the Preface, "Shortcuts toefficient studying." Every teacher will heartily concur wi~h Dr. Fearon in his ex-pressed wish that these hints will reach every thinking person over 274 BOOK REVIEWS I d. The remarks on Analysis ~speciallY show a real grasp of the problems confronting a prospective student. Yet is it not to be feared that the reading of such a concise¯ meth-odolgy wil! be meaningful only to one who has discovered by ex-pe~ rience the value of analysis in his. study? Only such a one will be struck with the high efficiency of the hints which are suggested. Expertus potest credere. ¯ In the hands of an enthusiastic teacher (and an apostle of clear thinking), this book could be used to give a real orientation to a class. A history teacher, a retreat master, a catechist, using the sub-ject- matter that is within his grasp, could provide his class with a wholly new illumination by presenting his ideas within the frame-work of this little manual. No educator Will be the worse for inves-tigating IDa. Fearon's contribution to the problems of youth. ¯ - --R. G. NORTH, S.J. THE LOVE OF GOD. By Dom Aelred Graham, O.S.B. Pp. xlx ~ 252. Longmans, Green and'C;o., New York, 1940., $2.50. This worthwhile book has been available for some time, but on the chance that some priests and" religious have not as yet made its acquaintance, attention is gladly called to it in tbe~e pages. While the love of God for man and man's obligation to love God in return are standard themes for spiritual writers, the fundamental philosophical and theologichl principles on which a solid devotional life must be based are usually to be found only in technical works. Dora Aelred has done a significant service, by gathering these 'pri.nciples from the works of St. Thomas, St.' Augustine, St. John of the Cross and other masters, fitting them together compactly, expand-ing them with clarity and objectivity, and in general making them understandable and highly inspirational to the intelligent, serious reader. To use the author's own phrase, his book is an "essay in analysis," explaining doctrine With a view to making it effective for spiritual living. The Nature, Conditions, Expression, and Effects of the Love of God are the headings of the four large sectiohs into which the book is divided. Each section is in turn distributed through three chapters in a manner admirably suited to provide a well-balanced treatment of thesubject under discussion. 275 BOOK REVIEWS Not the least attractivefeature of the book is the authbr's facility of expression. Without apparent effort, the words and phrases seem, on reflection, to afford the best possible settings for the thought-gems brdught to light. Not often is the medi~um of words so unobtrusively effective. The pages are regularly lighted up with passages that reveal the author as a vigorous, independent thinker even when he avows, his utter dependence on the great Christian masters. Such a passage, in the chapter on Knowledge, is his discussion of Y ideals in educati'on and his 'penetrating evaluation of current .methods. Again, in the chapter on Prayer, the inevitable interrelation of social worship and the personal element in religion is presented in a way to give consid-erable pause to the tunnel-visioned extremist. As a final instance, the .chapter on Action has a section wherein art, morality, and the virtue of prudence are brought together with happy results. The passage is ¯ recommended especially to those who are recurrently in a pother over the e.ssence of Catholic Arts and Letters.--C. DEI~IUTH, S.,J. HYMNS OF: THE DOMINIGAN MISSAL AND BREVIARY. Edited with . ir~÷roducfion and no÷es by ÷he Reverend Aquinas Byrnes, O.P. Pp. 694. B. Herder Book (2o., S÷. Louis, 1943. $4.75. This work is a useful companion volume to Britt's well known handbook. Destined primarily for Dominican friars, nuns, and ter-tiaries, it is also valuable for other religious who participate in the Opus Dei. Many hymnspresented here are common to the Domini- .can and ordinary Roman breviaries. In addition, students of .hym-r~ ody will be grateful to have at hand a number of fine compositions not contained in the Roman breviary, as well as the or.iginal forms of hymns that were revised under Urban VIII. On opposite pages are printed Latin texts and English verse trans-lations. The lower half of each page is reserved for literal prose ren-derings and pertinent comments on the content, form, author, and liturgical use of the hymn under consideration. Two appendices contain helpful data on authors and translators. A third of the poetic versions are by Father Byrnes and show unusual taste and competency in this dif/icult art, the remainder being by Msgr._ Henry, Neale, Caswall and other standard translators.--C. 2. McNASpY, S.,I. 276 Decisions he- See May 4, 1943: A general assembly of the Sacred Congregation of Rites attended by Pope Pius XII voted on the miracles attributed to~ the intercession of Blessed Frances Xavier Cabrini--v.a necessary pre-requisite in the advancement of her cause of canonization. At the same meeting the Congregation also decreed that it is. safe to proceed with the beatification of Venerable Alix Le Clerc, foun-dress of the Augustinian Regular Canonesses of the Congregation of Our Lady. April, 1943: In connection with the starting of the Vatican radio's new weekly broadcast to Russia, His Holiness Pope Plus XII granted indulgences for a new prayer recommended not only on behalf of all Christians outside the unity of the Church; but especially on beh.a!f of the Russian dissidents. The prayer reads, as follows: "O Most Holy Trinity, we adord Thee, and through Mary offer our petition: grant to all unity in the faith and courage to profess it faithfully." Indulgences: 300 days each time, a plenary indulgence once a month under the usual conditions. February 27, 1943: Pius .XII, through the Sacred Penitentiary, made the following modifications in the conditions for gaining the indulgences attached to the wearing of the Brown Scapular of Our Lady of Mount Carmel: 1) All religious of the Carmelite Order (priests, brothers, nuns, and tertiaries regular) may gain the indulgences attached to the wearing of the Carmelite habit, even though the habit is not made of wool. 2) All the faithful who belong to the Carmelite Third Order Secular, arid to th~ Confraternity of the Blessed Virgin Mary of. Mount Carmel, may gain the indulgences attached to the wearing of the scapular, even though they wear a ~capula.r not made of wool. These concessions were made at the request of the Procurator General of the Carmelite Order A.O., and they are made for tile dura-tion of the war onl~l. The Holy See also granted a sanatt'o for any invalidating defects in the erection of a Third Order and of a Confratern.ity of the' Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel, as well-as in the admission of the faithful to these organizations. 277 ( UeS ons and Answers .~.26--. On the occoslon of his Golden Jubilee a religious is made th~ recipi-ent of a sum of money 'contributed by" his friends and former pupils. Should this money be considered as the personal property of the religious, or does it belong to the communih/? Canon 580, § 2 states that "whatever a ~eligious acquires by his " own industry or in respect to his institute, belongs to the institute." One may acquire in respect to his institute in two ways: (1) The donor wishes to make a gift to the institute or to the community, and does so through the individual religidus; (2) he gives it to the reli-gious, because he is a religious. In this latter case the donor knows the religious only.as a religious; he would not know him if he were not a religiotis. Thus gifts given to religious teachers.by their pupils, or by patients to religious who nurse them, are considered ~iven to the religious because they are religious.- In case of doubt, whether.[he ' gift is given to-the person or to the religious, the doubt is to be solved in favor of the community, by an analogy to canon 1536. From the foregoing it would seem that gifts received by a reli~ gious on the .occasion of his Golden ,Jubilee are given to him because he is a religious, hence their go to his community. In practice it i~ best to follow this interpretation because if the gift is considered as purely personal, the religious must add it to his pdtri-mony; and may not spend it or give it away (canon 583, 1°); whereas if the gift is considered as given to him because he is a reli- 'gious, it goes to the comm'unity but the superior may allow him to use part of it for a jubilee trip to some of the houses, or for some similar purpose. Of course, the'superior should be prepared to grant the same permission to all other jubilarians, whether they receive gifts, or not, so as to avoid any violation of common life. --27-- In case of a f~mily inheritance, may a religious renounce his or her~ share in favor of brothers and sisters? Similarly, is a religious free ÷o turn over to others of the family his share of a pension right due a parent? The answer to these questions will depend to a certain extent upon the civil law of the State in which the will of the deceased per- 278 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS son is executed. If the state law obliges a pare

Issue 44.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1985. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, M O 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by REVIEW FOR R ELIGIOOS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUg 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 Sept./Oct., 1985 Volume 44 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R Evmw FOrt R ELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microf'dms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. The Primordial Mystery of Consecration John R. Sheets, S.J. ~ Father Sheets has been a frequent contributor to our. pages. The substance of the present article; the first of the "'Mother Xavier Ross Lecture" series, was given at the Motherhouse of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth in June, 1985. Father Sheets continues to teach in die Theology Department of Creighton University; Omaha, NE 68178. It seems that among people .with religious sensitivities, there is reawakening of the sense of mystery. This~is taking place on every level of the Church, among laity, religious, priests. In spite of the technological milieu in which we live, there breaks through what Peter Berger'once called "the rumor of angels." This is a sense of what lies beyond; beneath, and around the "manufactured" world that seems to dry up and suck out that deep source of life which overflows from the fountain of living water, through the mysteries of nature and of grace. It is the sense of what Teilhard de Chardin called "The Divine Milieu." "The perception of the divine omnipresence is essentially a seeing, a taste, that is to say a sort of intuition bearing upon certain superior qualities in things. It cannot,, therefore; be. attained directly by any process of reasoning, nor by any human artifice" (Theo Divine Mileiu, p. 131). Perhaps this deepening sense of mystery is taking place not only :in spite of the technologizing of our world, but because of it. When windows ~are shut and there is no fresh air, our Jungs cry out for this freshness in a stronger way than we. felt when fresh air was part of our normal life. This milieu of the:.'freshness, at the heart of reality is the world of the sacred. It is the world where two worlds join and compenetrate, the sacred world, which is the "milieu" of the divine, and our created, spatial-temporal ~2 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 world. The overflow of the sacred into our world is con-secration. Etymo-logically the word means a "with-sacredness," or a "co-sacredness." In a manner that is pure gift, what belongs to God alone, his milieu, so to speak,° becomes our milieu. In what follows, I would like to take this notion of milieu as a way of speaking about consecration. In particular, I want to show how religious consecration, a life committed to Christ through commitment to the evan-gelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience, is a particular florescence of the sacred md~eu ~nto wh~cfi we are drawn through baptism. Baptism is not only the "door of the Church," as .it has often been called. It is also the way in which Christ's own consecration eniers into us, and we are drawn into his. It is what has been described as the "admirabile commercium," the wonderful exchange. His milieu becomes mine, and mine becomes his. What Jacob said about the place where he had wrestled with the angel applies to the sacrament of baptism: "This. is indeed the house of God and the gate of heaven," It is out of this sacred milieu into which we are drawn through baptism that religious consecration arises as a particular "art form" of the. mystery of consecration. The Milieus in Which We Live Since the notion Of milieu is central to the way that I want to speak of religious consecration, | shall begin with a brief description of its meaning: then, comment on the different milieus which shape our lives. A milieu, acco.rding to the etymology, is a "middle place." I am not sure of all that is implied in that derivation. :But in someway, everything, and every person in a. milieu is always in the middle of it, no matter where the thing or person is. It is th~ mystery of the interpenetration of two levels of reality: that by which we belong to what is greater than we. Yet what is greater than any individual enters into the individual as though each indi-vidual is a center of convergence of all that is in the milieu. Undoubtedly one could speculate on this interdependence of individual and milieu at length. But this is not the place to do that. It is enough to call attention to the way that the whole exists in the part, and the part in the whole. ~he milieu is not merely something external to the individuals, but works to shape individuals, groups, nations, marking them with an identity which gives them.a sameness even in their individuality. For our purposes we can speak of three different milieus~ The first is that of the,world of things as they exist.within the interdependence of the whole. Today we call that milieu, and the way that iridividual things interact with it, the ecosystem; There is also the milieu in which we exist, not simply as things, but as 7he Mystery of Consecration spirit-embodied in the world of things. It is the world created by.lspirit-in-the- flesh, the world of culture, It is the world which is our home as persons, a world created by the power of the spirit--the world of language, art, literature, and the world of human relationships. In the third place, there is the world of the sacred. By its very nature, every°milieu is found in time and space, but has no limits or boundaries. Also, every milieu compenetrates, in a greater or lesser degree, everything that is within it. But in the realm of the sacred milieu this is even more profound. There is in every heart, as well as in communities of mankind, a sense of the more, the depth, and the beyond that.surrounds, encompasses, sustains,' every other aspect of our existence. This sense of'the sacred is found in the heart Of individuals and in the collective awareness of all peoples. Augustine describes it as the restlessness of the human heart that thirsts for the fullness which cannot be satisfied by any limited good. "Our hearts are made for thee, O God, and they are restless, until they find their rest in thee." Rudolf Otto speaks of it as the sense ~of the numinous (The Idea of the Holy). Paul Tillich as "ultimate concern." Rabbi Heschel describes it as the "sense of wonder coming from the ineffable depths of reality." No matter how it is described, all the descriptions point to the milieuwhich is the source and sustaining power of the whole of created existence. St. Paul, in his speech to the Athenians, will speak of God as this milieu: ". he is not far from any of us, for in him we live, and move and have our being"~(Ac 17:27). ~ It. is this sense of the sacred that is at the heart of all the :searching for meaning of life, the attempt to make some sense out of the problem of evil, suffering, death.'~It is the basis of all religious practice, in the attempt to enter,into communion with this absolute reality, or to propitiate it. It is here, then, for the first time that we find a new reality. It is the mystery of con-secration, a "with-sacredness." This boundless mystery, which is out of time and space, is concretized in time and space. Certain persons, places, things are set apart to embody this mystery, to be the "sacrament" which inserts the mystery into our lives, so that it can touch us, and we can touch it. For this reason, persons, places, things are set apart and assume the specialness that belongsto the mystery of the sacred. In other words, they are consecrat6d. We have been speaking of the mystery of the sacred, and the consecra-tion by which it takes on a certain sacramental presence in the world. This is the realm of what is called natural religion. But .with God's entering into the history of Israel through the call of Moses, and the whole of the Exodus experience, there is a new sense of the sacred. We are now in the realm of dialogue. In an' incomprehensible way, 644 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 the sacred is revealed as a person,,who calls, chooses, sends. He has a name, ~"Yahweh." He has designs for the whole people, and the whole of history. He invites the people to enter into his own holiness, to share 'it. This is an entirely new dimension in the mystery of the saci'ed, as well as in the meaning of con-secration. The mystery Of the holy is not only the mystery of the numinou~, but the revelation of a God who is also will. His will is that we might live. But his will, as well as our lives, are inseparable from keeping his word. "From this you know that now, if you obey my voice and hold fast to my covenant, yoti of all the nations shall be my very own; for all the earth is mine. I will count you a kingdom of priests, a consecrated .nation (Ex 19:5). As we saw above, in the realm of natural religion, the'sense of the sacred is incarnated in the world of persons, actions and things, which are conse-crated, to be the meeting place of the sacred and the human. The same is true in Israel, but with a richer meaning that comes from revelation. Now, the consecration of persons, places, things serves to put the people in touch with what took place in the saving events of their history, whose meaning is revealed through the .prophetic word. Even. within the consecrated people, the tribe of Levi has a ~pecial consecration to be the tribe to serve as priests. They would receive no part of the land'allotted to the others, because God himself was to be their lot. However, all these aspects of the sacred, from natural religion, to the historical religion of Israel, are only stages to the revelation wefind in Christ. The Letter to the Hebrews describes the whole pattern of consecrating activities in the Old Testament as shadows and figures of what is to come, "For the Law contains but a shadow, and no true image of the good things which were' to come" (Heb 10:1). "These are no more than a shadow of what was to come; the solid reality is Christ" (Col 2:17). The entrance of.God into history in a unique and unforeseeable way in the Incarnation is described as an act of consecration. Mary is to be overshadowed by the power of the Holy Spirit, and the one to be born of her will be called the Holy One. The terminology is reminiscent of the description of the consecration of the temple of Solomon.A cloud, sym-bolizing the consecrating presence, of Yahweh, filled the temple (IK 8:10). Jesus himself is the one who is consecrated, the one in whom and through the Father's redemptive love reaches out to us, and through whom we touch the Father. He is the fulfillment of the meaning of the ladder stretching from heaven to earth seen in Jacob's dream (Gn 28:17). "You shall see greater things than that. In. truth, in' very truth I tell you all, you shall see heaven wide open, and God's angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man" (Jn 1:51). ,. 7he Mystery. of Consecration / 645 .~ The theme of consecration is in particular central to the Johannine thought. Jesus is at one and the same time the one consecrated by the Father, as well as the one who consecrates' the wbrld. He is lamb and priest. "I have been consecrated and sent into the world by the Father (Jn 10:36). He is the fullness Of the Father's h~llowing act, that takes place in hi~ Hour, the Hour in which he is glorified. But this hallowing act overflows to consecrate the world, in particular the Church. "For their sake I now consecrate mYself that they may be consecrated by the truth,' (Jn 17:19). In the blood and water flowing from his open side, together with the gift of the Spirit, are symbolized the .consecration, in the first place of Christ, and then the manner in which his own consecration reaches out to touch the world. In Paul in particular, there is the sense of what we cancall the Christic milieu. To be a Christian is to be put into Christ, incorporated in him. This is an inse.rtion into Christ's ownconsecration. One of the favorite phrases he used to express the whole mystery of the faith is "in Christ Jesus," or "in the Lord." The Christian finds his identity as the new creation by being taken up in Christ's consecration. This theme is central to the thought of Paul: I shall give only a sampling of the texts. In his farewell to.the elders at Miletus, Paul told them: "And now I commend you to God and to his gracious word, which has power to build you up and give you your heritage among all who are consecrated to him" (Ac 20:32). The Corinthians "have been consecrated in Christ Jesus" (1 Co 1:2), "washed and consecrated" (6:11)o His own ministry is described as a liturgical act: ',It falls to me to offer the gentiles to him as an acceptable sacrifice, consecrated by the Holy Spirit" (Rm 15:!6) Hebrews stresses the identity which is established between Christ ai~d the Christian through being consecrated by Christ: "For a consecrating priest and those whom he consecrates are all of one stock" (Heb 2:11). Peter speaks of the faithful as "consecrated by the Spirit to a life of obedience to Jesus Christ" (1 P 1:2). A.person who is consecratedby Christ and in Christ:should live the kind of life that flows from consec~:ation and brings it to fulfillment. "Let us therefore cleanse ourselves from 511 that can defile flesh or spirit, and ifi the fear of God complete 'our consecration" (2 Co 7: !). The consecration of a believing spouse has inner power.to draw the unbelieving wife or husband into the consecration of the believing spouse. "For the heathen husband now belongs to God through his Christian wife, and the heathen wife through her Christian husband. Otherwise your children would not belong to God, whereas in fact they do" (1 Co 7:14). Paul parallels the sacrificial love by which Christ consecrated th~ Church ~a46 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 with the way that.a husband should,love his wife: "Husbands, love your wives as Christ also loved the Church and gave himself up for it, to consecrate it, cleansing it by water and word, so that he might present the Church to .himself all glorious, with no stain or wrinkle or anything of the sort, bht holy and Without blemish" (Ep 5:25~27). '~ The extension.of Christ's power to consecrate is transmitted in the mysterious power by which his own power to consecrate is sacramentalized in his apostles. They are told to "do this in memory of me," that is, to repeat sacramentally the act by which Christ consecrated the world. They are empowered by being given the gift of the consecrating, or rather, re-conse-crating Spirit."'Peace'be with you. As the Father sent me, so 1 send you.' He then breathed on them, saying: 'Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive any man's, sins, they stand forgiven; if you pronounce them unforgiven, unforgiven they remain'" (Jn 20:21-23). It is this sacred power sacramentalized in his apostles and their succes-sors which is described by the word hierarchy. In popular understanding, the word is identified with power and bureaucracy. ~But its original meaning, coming from the word "hieros'" and "archia," "holy principle," is the sacra-mentalization of Christ's power to consecrate the faithful. Before proceeding on to the topic of religious consecration, I would like to sum up what l have said. At first it might seem as though I have a very long staircase, by way of introduction, to reach the place where I am going, '~ As I said above, it is important to recapturethe importance of the various milieus in which weqive, Each in its own way, on different levels; contributes to the shaping of individuals and societies. This is especially true of the milieu of thesacred. There is an analogy between the compre-hensive force of the power of gravity in the ecosystem with the power of the sacred to sustain and give meaning to the whole of reality. This sense of the ~way that the sacred permeates the whole of created reality is at the root of the. symbolism in the Book of Revelation, ch. 4, where created reality acclaims the One who is on the throne, singing, "Holy, holy, holy is God the sovereign Lord of all, who was, and is, and is to come'~ (v, 8). 0 .In ~the Old Testament, this milieu is described through images such as covenanted people, people of God. In the New Testament, the images abound: kingdom, city, temple, body, vine and branches, the New Creation. We must,then, recapture the radical or primordial meaning of conse-cration, It is'. not something which touches us merely externally. To be "in the Lord," or "in Christ Jesus," means to be in a milieu which tranSforms the inner.,person into a new creature, while at the same time it draws him into a consecrated community. The Mystery of Consecration The followiiag passage, then, will serve as a summary of what I have said, as well as a bridge to the next section. "Let us t.hen establish ourselves in th( .divine milieu. There we shall be within the inmost depths of souls and the greatest consistency of matter. There, at the confluence of all the forms of beauty, we shall discover the ultra-vital, ultra-perceptible, ultra-active point of t.hb universe; and, at the same time, we shall experience in the depths, of our own being the effortless deployment of'the plenitude of all our powers of action and of adoration; For it is not merely that .at that privileged point all the external springs of the world are coordinated and harmonized: there is the further, complementary marvel that the man who surrenders himself to the divine, milieu feels his own inward powers directed and enlarged by it with a sureness which enables him effortlessly to avoid the all too numerous reefs on which mystical quests have so often foundere~d" (Hymn of the Universe, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, p. 141).' Religious Consecration: The Florescence of the Divine Milieu I would like then to apply what I have said above, about the way we are consecrated by being drawn into the milieu of Christ throu'gh baptism and the Church, to the consecrated life of the counseis.~l shall do this by commenting on Pope John 'Paul's letter on the religious life, Redemptionis Donum ( The Gift of Redemption). It was addressed to religious throughout the world at the close of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption. It is dated March 25, 1984. But first I would like to give some of my own reflections about the letter. In my mind it is most consistenL the most profound presentation of the theology of the religious life ever written. That is a bold statement. But I think it is true. In the first place it is a coherent theology taking in all the mysteries of our faith to bring them to 'converge on the meaning of the religious life: Trinity, incarnation, Church, sacraments, grace, Mary. What we have in Vatican II and other official statements ~abo~t religious life brings out the meaning but not in the context of a coherent theology. There is a depth° to the treatment which undercuts the traditional dichotomies which often prevent us from getting to the central meaning of religious life.~ Such, for example, are the contrasts between "Pre-Vatican and Post-Vatican," "monastic and apostolic," "conservative and liberal~" "American and R6man," "male and female." The letter goes to what is permanent beneath all of the changes. It shows the principle of identity that marks the religious life wherever and whenever it is found. Perhaps one of the main reasons for confusion today among religious, and in the formation programs of so many congregations, is the lack of any permanent base which acts as a constant among the many 6ttlt / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 ¯variables which-affect religious life as it emerges in different cultures throughout, history, responding to new needs of the Church as these develop. How many things have been written in the past couple of decades on the "religious life of the future," "changing religigus life today," and more. Most of these 'are projections from a view of the religious life which is simply-a recombination of variables, without any sense of a constant which gives them consistency. They are like the skywriting messages we see in the sky, which are there, lose their shape, disappear, to be succeeded by more skywriting. In this sense, to be current is to be always out-of-date. To come then to the letter itself. There are seven.sections to it. I want to call special attention to sections three and four. Section Three is entitled "Consecration," and Section Four, "Evangelical Counsels." In Section One, "Greeting," the Holy Father describes the purpose of the letter, which is, first of all, in the context of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, a call to conversion; and secondly, it is the opportunity for him as the Vicar of Christ to express in the name of the whole Church a message of love to religious. In Section Two, he turns to the account of Jesus' dialogue with the rich young man (Mk 10:21 ff). "He looked upon him and loved him." He said, "If you want to be .perfect, go sell what you have, give .to the poor, and come follow me." The man went away sad. This gospel narrative, then, is applied to each of those whom Christ called. It puts v0catio0 in the context of an ongoing dialogue with Christ. Christian religious life is not like, for example, that of the Buddhist monks. Their life of celibacy, together with their other commitments, arises out of what we spoke of above as "natural religion." Christian religious life arises out of a personal dialogue of Christ with the individual. It is not a call simply to asceticism. It is a call "to follow Christ." For this reason, it is a call to a lived-communion. The Holy Father speaks of this as "spousal" nature of religious life. Then, in th~ part which concerns us in particular, Section Three, "Con-secration," he describes religious life as a special form that our baptismal consecration take.s, as Christ enters into dialogue with us, to draw us to a special form of baptismal consecration. In ithe context of what I said above about the "divine°milieu," this means that. we are taken up into this milieu of Christ through our baptism, which at the same time draws us into the society of "saints" (Paul's word for members of the consecrated community of faithful). Within this milieu, through this ongoing dialogue of Christ with the heart of each of his faithful, he draws them to the particular charism which is their special way of consecrating the whole community. Paul speaks of the individual char-isms (or graces, gi(ts) as "building up" the community. But in reality, there The Mystery of Consecration is no way to build up except by drawing out all the implications of the radical consecration through our baptism. Within the manifold of ways of living out the baptismal consecration, there is the vocation of the evangelical counsels. What is the uniqueness of this charism in respect to the other vocations that arise through the prompting of the .Holy Spirit from our baptismal consecration? The answer is found in the unique way that religious life bears witness to what is at the heart of the baptismal consecration. As the Holy Father says: "Upon the sacramental basis of baptism in which it is rooted, religious profession is a new 'burial in the death of Christ': new, because it is made with awareness and by choice; new, because of love and vocation; new, by reason of unceasing 'conversion.' This 'burial in death' causes the person 'buried together with .Christ' to walk in newness of life. In Christ crucified is to be found the ultimate foundation both of baptismal consecration and of the profession of ,the evangelical counsels, which--in the words of the Second Vatican Council--constitutes a 'special consecration.' It is at one and the same time both death and liberation" (#7). The clue that is at the heart of the Holy Father's faith-insight into baptismal consecration, and the religious conseizration which is rooted in it, lies in two words: paschal duality. The paschal mystery has two different, but inseparable aspects, death-resurrection. This paschal duality can be expressed in other ways: sacrifice-communion, giving up in order to give to afiother, impoverishment-enrichment, emptying-filling, powerlessness-empowerment. The uniqueness, then, of the charism of religious consecration lies in the way that it renders visible, tangible and operative, the paschal duality that lies in the very heart of the Church. In Section Four, "Evangelical Counsels," the Pope points out how the life of the evangelical counsels is not simply a kind of private way of life. Such a life transposes what he calls the "economy of the redemption" into the here and now. The economy of the redemption is another way of speaking of the paschal mystery, and the paschal duality. The life of the counsels incarnates the redemptive pattern into the life of an individual and a community. In this way, such a life carries within it the very liberating power of Christ's own death and resurrection~ This emphasis shows how the religious life, even if lived in a cloister, is by its very nature the most powerful liberating force in the world. "In this way the economy of the redemption transfers the power of the paschal mystery to the level of huma'nity, docile to Christ's call to life in chastity, poverty and obedience, that is, to a life according to the evangelical counsels" (# 10). 650 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 In Section Five, :the Holy Father takes up each of the evangelical counsels in order to point out how they exhibit this paschal duality. On the one hand, the counsel of chastity for the kingdom of God means giving up marriage and the joy of having one's own family. But in this case, renuncia-tion is not something negative. It is at the same time annunciation that the ultimate goal of all of us is a here and now possibility. With the power of the. Holy Spirit it is possible to open one's heart and allow Christ to fill it completely. The intangible reality that Christ is the only spouse of the Church is made visible in the lives of those for whom he is truly spouse here and now through chastity for the kingdom of God. "The evangelical counsel of chastity is only an indication of that partic-ular possibility which for the human heart, whether of a man or of a woman, constitutes the spousal love of Christ himself, of Jesus the 'Lord.' To make themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven' is not in fact merely.a free renunciation of marriagel.but a charismatic choice of Christ as one's exclusive spouse . . . In this way consecrated persons accomplish the interior purpose of the entire economy of the redemption ~. they bring into the midst of this passing world the announcement of the future resurrection and of eternal life: life in union with God himself tl~rough the beatific vision and the love which contains in itself and com-pletely pervades all the other loves of the human heart" (#11). Then he turns to the evangelical counsel of poverty. He develops the paschal duality involved in the counsel by his reflections on the way that Christ enriched us through his poverty. "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich" (2 Co 8:9). He continues: "For this reason he says to the young manof the synop-tic Gospels: 'Sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in'heaven.' In these words there is a call to enrich others through one's own poverty, but in the depths of this call there is hidden the testi-mony of the infinite, richness of God, which transferred to the human soul in the mystery of grace, creates in man himself, precisely through poverty, a source for enriching others not comparable, with any :other resource of material goods, a source for bestowing gifts on others in the manner of God himself. We see how this process of enrichment unfolds in the pages of the Gospel; finding its culmination in the paschal event: Christ, the poorest in his death on the cross, is also the one who enriches us infinitely with the fullness of new life through the resurrection" (#12). He then turns to the counsel of obedience. He takes as the key text Paul's description of the kenosis (emptying) of Christ. "Though he was in the form of God, he did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, The Mystery of Consecration / 651 but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross" (Ph 2:6-8). He locates the inmost constitutive element of the paschal mystery in the obedience of Christ to the Father. "Here, in these words of the Letter of St. Paul to the Philippians, we touch the very essence of the redemption, In this reality is inscribed in a primary and constitutive way the obedience of Jesus Christ. Other words of the apostle., confirm this: "For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by one man's obedience many will be made righteous" (Rm 5:19). In living out the counsel of obedience, through which they place them-selves at this disposal of the community and the Church through obedience to their superior, they cooperate in redeeming the world. Here in this redemptive mode of life, they echo both the words of Mary and of Jesus; "Be it doneoto me according to your will." ',By living out the evangelical counsel of obedience, they reach the deep essence of the entire economy of the redemption" (#13). ~ Of course, every Christian must live out his life in obedience to God through obedience to legitimate authority. But the life of the religious should be marked in a special way with this duality, an emptying of self-will, which paradoxically constitutes an inner freedom. "And since this obedience of Christ constitutes the essential nucleus of the work of the redemption, as is seen from the words of the apostle quoted above, there, fore, also in the fulfilling of :the evangelical counsel of obedience we must discerh a particular moment in that 'economy of the redemption' which pervades your whole vocation in the Church." (#13). ,Thr°ugh°ut the letter the Pope stresses that the "treasure in heaven[ promised to those who.give up all things to follow him is not reserved for heaven. It takes place here and .now. When the paschal mystery is allowed to "seed" the heart, which is' constricted by the threefold way in which its inner instincts are twisted, the "lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life" (1 Jn 2:15-17), its power to love takes on the infinity of Christ's own love. "Remember also, dear brothers and sisters, that the obedience to which you committed yourselves by consecrating yourselves without reserve to God through the profession of the. evangelical counsels is a particular expression of interior freedom, just as the definitive expression of Christ's freedom was his'obedience 'unto. death'i 'I lay down my life, that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord" (Jn 10:!7, 18)(#13): In Section Six, he shows how ihe life of the counsels witnesses to the 659 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 redemptive power of the paschal mystery, because it frees the heart, which is open to the counsels, to embrace that paschal duality/in the whole of one's life. It touches us in the three most radical aspects of our lives: the need to have things, the need for human, intimate love, and the need to be master of our destinies. In this way, religious life is witness to the presence of the paschal mystery in our hearts. "These counsels, each in its own way and all of them together in their intimate connection, 'bear witness' to the redemption which, by the power of Christ's cross and resurrection, leads the world and humanity in the Holy Spirit toward that definitive fulfillment, which man and through man, the whole of creation finds in God and only in God" (#14). He stresses then the way that religious by their consecration share in the apostolate of the Church. But at the same time their most fundamental apostolate is found in being who they are. "And thus, even though the many different apostolic works that you perform are extremely important, nevertheless, the truly fundamental work of the apostolate remains always what (and at the same time who) you are in,the Church" (#15). Finally, in the conclusion, he stresses that this paschal mystery which finds its special witness in the religious life is a mystery that can be pene-trated only with the eyes of faith. "May the Holy Spirit--through Christ's cross and resurrection--'having the eyes of your hearts enlightened,' enable you "to know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his g~orious inheritance in the saints'" (Ep 1:18) (#16). Summary and Conclusion It is probably a mixed metaphor to say that we have gone through l_ight-years in this article. We have seen that the mystery of the sacred, the holy, is the mystery that sustains all things. It is the milieu in which all things have their being. Yet the mystery is so boundless that it has to be, so to speak, scaled down for us to be in touch with it. This "scaling down" is itself a mystery. We call it consecration. Somehow, what has all the opa-queness, earthiness of this world, imperviousness of the world of creatures, becomes charged with the infinite power of the holy. Through revelati6n, we are able to see with the eyes of faith, the inner nature of this milieu, the holiness of God. His mystery of holiness is also a mystery of lbve which seeks to share-what one has and what one is. This sharing takes place through the redemptive :love of Christ. The world, thin, ultimately exists in a Christic milieu. It is a world washed with the blood of Christ, recreated, re-consecrated. We enter this consecrated milieu through baptism. This radical conse-cration can never be lost, even though we might desecrate it. This is called 7he Mystery of Consecration in theological terms the sacramental stamp, or character. Through the variety of gifts given by the Holy Spirit, the radical conse-cration flowers in many ways. In particular, it blossoms in the religious life. It is there that the fundamental character of the paschal duality is re-pre-sented, in a way that parallels the re-presentation of Christ's sacrifice in the Mass. For in and through the consecrated life of chastity, poverty, and obedience, Christ says, "Here's what I am. Here's what I came to do." This mystery of the way that the milieu of Christ enters into us to consecrate us by taking us up into himself finds some remote analogy in the images used by the poet William Blake in his Songs of Innocence. To see a Wor|d in a grain of sand And a Heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour. A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all Heaven in a rage. A dove-house filled with doves and pigeons ~hudders Hell through all its "regions. From .Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New° Constitutions I and II by Patricia Spillane, M.S, C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd; St'.~ Louis, Missouri 63108 The Charism and Identity of Religious Life Michael J. Buckley, S.J. Father Buckley, of Berkeley's Jesuit School of Theology, has~ served as theological advisor since its inception to the Pontifical Commission on Religious Life in the United States. This article is the text of a paper Father Buckley presented at the meeting of the American bishops at their spring meetifig in Collegeville preparatory to their corporate reflections about religious life. Father Buckley may be addressed at The Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley; 1735 Le Roy Avenue; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Prenote: The limitations imposed by the nature of this conference do not allow for anything more than a fragmentary set of reflections upon a topic of such critical importance to the understanding of religious life. This paper, then, can do no more than attempt three of the many tasks which fall under so general a title: (1) To sketch something of the development of themagisterium's teaching on this subject; (2) to indicate some of the problems which this teaching entails; and (3) to suggest a manner in which these problems might be understood and moved towards resolution. The paper proposes the following three theses: (I) The fundamental identity of religious life must be grasped in terms of charism; (2) This understanding of religious life as charismatic raises profound problems that t6uch every aspect of its reality; (3) The office of the hierarchy is to discern an authentic charism from its counterfeit, while the exercise of this office is subject to the very real danger that excessiv6 legalism will quench the Spirit. One theme that contemporary philosophy and modern hermeneutics have insisted upon is this: Words have an effect like architecture. With architecture, you build the buildings, and then the buildings you live in build you. Similarly with language, you introduce terms into a discussion, 654 The Charism of Religious Life / {$55 and the language you admit either expands your perception of the issues or it hopelessly limits it. The concern of the early Fathers and Councils about language was not trivial: language forms our perception of reality. If our words are careless or precise, exaggerated or discriminating, we will have that kind of discussion. Even more, we will have that kind of perception of the very reality we are attempting to understand. Few contemporary Church leaders realized this better than PopePaul VI. He was painstaking, even scrupulous, in his selection of words. And it was this pope who introduced the vocabulary: "the charism of religious life" and "the charisms of the founders [bf religious communities] who were raised up by God .within his Church." ~ (ET II).The Second Vatican Council prepared for this stage of theological development, but Paul V1 brought it into articulation and existence. Charism and Rel!gious Life Lumen Gentium, in its critical second chapter, had spoken of the charisms given by the Spirit for the, renewal and building of the Church (12). Lumen Gentium, had distinguished the hierarchical girls from the charismatic girls (4, 7, 12). But Lumen Gentium never applied its doctrine on charism explicitly to religious life, though much of the theology of the gifts is contained in its sixth chapter, the section that deals with religious life in the Church. Similarly, ~Perfectae Caritatis contains many of these same elements and even adds an essential note missing from the previous Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, namely, that the origins of religious life lie with "'Spiritu Sancto afflante (under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit),' (l). But the word "charism" does not occur. It was Paul VI who took the Church~s general teachings about charism and the charismatic and applied them repeatedly during his pontificate to religious life. And the documents and the allocutiones of the present pontificate have continued this application. This usage of the more recent popes, however, has not gone unchallenged. Very recently, some have objected to the use of this term on two grounds: the word, "charism," is very difficult to define, and the Code of Canon Law does not include this term. Nevertheless, the present pope did use the term--and he did so specifi-cally in his Letter to the American Bishops, charging them to "encourage the religious, their institutes and associations to live fully the mystery of the redemption, in union with the whole Church and according to the specific charism of their religious life" (LTYR #3). The American bishops cannot step over this term: it frames the perspective on their mandate. It occurs three times in that same section of the papal .letter, specifying both the nature of religious life as a "proper ecclesiai charism" and reminding the 656 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 bishops that "in the local churches the discernment of the exercise of these charisms is authenticated by the bishops in union with the successor of Peter. This work is a truly important aspect of your episcopal ministry" (ibid). Furthermore: This charge to the American bishops is not an isolated phenomenon. Mutuae Relationes places the most critical responsibility of religious superiors precisely in this same '~erminology which others have found so dange~:ous: "Religious superiors have a grave duty, their foremost responsibility in fact, to assure the fidelity of the members tothe charism of the Founder by fostering the renewal prescribed by the Council and required by the times" (14c). The documents of the ,magisterium speak either of the charism of religious life in general or of the charism of a particular form of religious life. But two things should be noted in either case: First, when they speak about charism, they are speaking about what is fundamental to its identiiy. Second, this fidelity to charism involves change together with stability, a change demanded either by the conciliar documents or by the needs of the time. What does "charism" mean, then, and why is /he papal use of it so illuminative of the identity of religious life? The classic description of charism is given in the second chapter of Lumen Gentium (12b): ',It is not only through the sacraments and the ministrations of the Church that the Holy Spirit makes holy the People, leads them and enriches themwith his virtues. Allotting his gifts as he wills (l Co 12:l l), he also distributes specialgraces among the faithful of every rank. By these gifts, he. makes them fit and ready to undertake various tasks and offices for the renewal and building up of the Church, as it is written, 'the manifestaiion of the Spirit is given to everyone for the common good' (1 Co 12:7). Whether these charisms be very remarkable or more simple and widely diffused, they are to be received with thanksgiving and consolation since they arefitting and useful for the needs of the Church . Those who have charge over the Church should judge the genuineness and proper use of these gifts through their office, not indeed to extinguish the Spirit, but to test all things and hold fast to what is good"(l Th 5:12, 19-21). Erom this text we can affirm that the term "charism" includes the following notes: (1) The origin, of every charism is the Holy Spirit--not the hierarchy nor human structures. : (2) Its impetus, is distinguished from the action .of the Spirit in the sacraments and in the habitual ministrations of the Church's ministers. ¯ (3) Charism is by its nature a special grace, given to anyone of the faithful as an enabling gift for a specific ministry within the Body of Christ. 1he Charism of Religious Life (4) Its purpose is the renewal and the development of the Church¯ (5) The authenticity of a charism is to be tested and judged by the hierarchy--and the allusions to St. Paul's negative prohibition not to extinguish the Spirit indicates the danger that a.charism can be de-stroyed by the bad judgment of the very ones who are to judge and support it. Lumen Gentium and Perfectae Caritatis made two other significant contributions to the development of the identity of religious life as a char-ism. (l) Neither document discusses religious life in the juridical language of status or "the state of perfection to be acquired." Neither document uses the technical expression, "status perfectionis acquierendae"; while the word status is used six times in Lumen Gentium VI and only once in Perfectae Caritatis, it never becomes the principal or governing category. Status is recognized as a canonical term, but not given the position of being the organizing perspective through which religious life is understood. The his-tory of the title of Perfectae Caritatis indicates ~how progressive and delib-erate that exclusion was made. It is not that status could not be profitably used: its heritage can be traced from Pseudo-Dionysius' The Ecclesiastical Hierarchy, to the profound treatment 6f Saint Thomas--distinguishing officium, status, and gradus--to Provida Mater of Pius Xll. But the con-cept of status over these centuries has increasingly . become static, and a fundamental juridical category) Vatican II, by refusing to subsume reli-gious life under this juridical heading as its primary category, was clearing the way for the further theological developments of Paul VI. These docu-ments from the Council provided many of the elements in their description of religious life which would allow Evangelica Testificatio to bring them together under thegeneral rubric of charism. What the Church witnessed in Evangelica Testificatio, then, is a con-scious and radical shift--to be very precise, a categorical shift: from reli-gious life classified primarily.as a canonical reality, one whose forms a(e set and understood fundamentally in terms of juridical, even constitutional, structures, to a charismatic reality, whose forms and constitutions them-selves are ,judged by the classic signs of the Spirit and by the manner in which its members are configured to the life of Christ. Both charism and law are obviously necessary. Religious life is not a variation of antinomianism. But the question is what is categorical. And Paul VI has said that the fundamental category is charismatic: Charism has been given a priority over status.3 What the deliberate choice of the term "charism" asserts is'that religious life is directly dependent upon the Spirit, both for its origins and for its continually new forms. As Paul VI put it: "The charism of the religious 65~! / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 life, far from being an impulse 'born of flesh and blood,' or one derived from a.mentality which conforms itself to the modern world, is the fruit of the Holy Spirit, who is always at work within the Church" (ET l l)~ The various forms of religious ~life are derived from the charisms of the founders of these religious communities who were raised up by God through this gift of the Spirit. This charism of the founder does two things: It gives each religious community that dynamism which defines it--often called its par-ticular spirit--and it provides for the future a "certain constancy of orienta-tion" that allows for a continual revitalization and change in external forms (ET 12).4 The~development of a religious community, as opposed to its decline, lies with~the organicgrowth of its original and defining charism. Mutuae Relationes expanded this teaching, insisting with bishops that "they are entrusted with the duty of caring for religious charisms, all the more so because the very indivisibility of .their pastoral ministry makes them responsible for perfecting the entire flock" (9c). Here the charism of the founder is stated precisely as "'an experience of the Spirit,' transmit-ted to their disciples to be lived, safeguarded, deepened and constantly developed by them in harmony with the Body of Christ continually in the process of growth" (1 !). It is this experience of the Spirit that gives the distinctive character to their religious communityi "This distinctive charac-ter also involves a particular style of sanctific.ation and of apostolate, which creates its particular tradition with the result that one can readily perceive its objective elements,' (11). impli~cations and Difficulties Now, for rather pragmatic Americans, this discussion of charism seems sound enough, but hardly earth-shattering---hardly important enough to wonder whether it is or is not in the Code. But it is the implications that are foundthreatening, implications which Mutuae Relationes is at pains~ to point out: "Every authentic charism implies a certain element of (1) genuine originality and of (2) special initiative for the spiritual life of the Church. In its surroundings, it may appear troublesome and may even cause difficulties, since it is not always and immediately easy to recognize it as coming from the Spirit" (12). Concretely and pragmatically, charism implies that religious life will always involve something that the Church has not seen before---or at least seen in this~way. Because of its novelty and its presence as an unforeseen impetus within the Church, charism may well mean the presence of the "troublesome," and. the presence of new difficulties and challenges to the Church.Call religious life a charism, and you have already said the Church expects to be continually challenged in many ways, and the hierarchy is The Charism of Religious Life / 659 :bound by God to the difficult and nuanced discernment of the authenticity of these challenges. Unlike status, whose structures can be determined adequately by law, charism presages the new, the creative, and the trouble-some. This has formed the history of religious orders over the Centuries, and for the United States it has been the history'of religious communities of men and women since Vatican II. An ~Example: During this time, a radically new articulation of the religious life:for women has come into consciousness and acceptance: many women are assuming both ministerial roles within the Church :hitherto reserved for men and have adopted small and: flexible community styles which have made these new missions possible. Women religious no longer necessarily dress in the same identical fashion, nor do they assume collec-tive tasks independent of their particular orientations, skills, and expe-rienced vocations. What is emerging in many religious orders is a thoroughly contemporary woman, as competent as her contemporaries in her accomp-lishments and in her extensive acquaintance with the issues and experiences of.,her times. This does not mean that either the initial spirit or the sound traditions of her order have been rejected. This may, of course, have occurred in some cases, but it has not been the rule. What this new order means is that many American religious communi-ties of women have transposed-,their heritage into a modern idi6m. This neither discredits nor invalidates other forms of religious life and the ch~irism of older forms of religious expression, any more than the active communi-ties of the nineteenth century were a rejection of Benedictine monasticism or of the clerks regular. But it does mean that something new is here. These religious communities of women have begun, perhaps for the first time in the Church, a synthesis of religious consecration and an inculturation into the forms of contemporary life--a synthesis made in service to their mission. If one looks at previous' external customs or previous regulations or even some° of the current mandates being stretched in the name of this growth:--that is, if one looks at religious life primarily as legal status, one can wonder at this phenomenon and question whether we are dealing with decline or infidelity. On the other hand, if one sees religious life primarily as charism, a charism that needs constitutions and laws for its objectification and constancy of~orientation; but not as the exhaustive or adequrite, state-ment of its nature, then one might wonder if we are not witnessing a flew 'impet.us of the .Spirit within the Church. Could it be the case that at a timein which women are assuming directive and leadi~rship roles within all forms of contemporary culture, the Spirit of God is raising up within the Church renewed or new charismatic communities, religious who will be just as individually characterized and 6611 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 just as culturally coordinate as theircontemporaries and impelled to this new inculturation by the very charism of their founders? If so, we may be witnessing a movement which will carry an importance to the Church similar to that of the rise of the mendicants in the thirteen century. Quite new--perhaps radically new but of, enormous importance to the future of the Church. But how is one to judge this? Another Example: Repeatedly Religious and Human Promotion en- .cou~ages .religious to be "enterprisingin their uridertakings and initiatives" because this is "in keeping with the charismatic and prophetic nature of religious life itself" (27; See 4a and 24). Placing the prophetic together with the charismatic and then asserting this hendiadys as characteristic of the nature of religious life, constitutes a significant challenge. Fidelity to the charism of religious life, then, could well involve religious in those activities which have alienated many people in the Church from them: speaking out about the morality of American intervention in Latin America, writing about discrimination even within the Church, demanding fair hiring prac-tices in local business, far ranging discussions within their national confer-ences of areas of injustice and oppression. Indeed, this document foresees precisely sucha development: "Confer-ences of religious, because of their more immediate knowledge of ecclesial and social conditions, are in a better position to identify the problems of different countries and continents. Through an exchange of experiences and study meetings, they could, in collaboration with the episcopal confer-ences and respecting the various charisms~ find solutions and means more in harmony with the hopes for integral human promotion" (35). When religious bring these subjects continually to the fore in their discussions and in their activities, and when they ask for episcopal collaboration in the exploration and elimination of these evils, are we not dealing with some-thing that issues from the very nature of religious life as a charism even when this elicits irritation from good Catholics or results in picket-lines, protests, and imprisonment? How are the bishops to judge, whether this is of God. however much it disturb expectations and social concord? Discernment, Not Repression These two examples raise the same questi~)n, as would many more that could be cited: How can one judge growth or decline? How can the hier-archy judge authentic charism, even authentic prophetic action when Mutuae Relationes (19) taught that "a responsiveness rich in creativ~ initia-rive is eminently compatible with the charismatic nature of the religious life"?. How can one test the Spirit, not quench it? Mutuae Relationes suggests three criteria by which this sifting of the The Charism of Religious Life / 661 genuine from the inauthentic can be done (51): First: Charism has "its special origin from the Spirit." Consequently the leaders of the Church can legitimately .expect that the signs which Galatians enumerates as present in aiathentic charismatic movement: "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such there is no law" (Ga 5:22-23). If these are present, one has every reason to suspect that the claim upon our conscience is from God. Secondly: "A profound ardor of love to be conformed to Christ in order to give witness to some aspect of his mystery." When I read this, I had to wonder what the Holy See had in mind here, and I think it is this: Charism always effects a particular configuration to Christ. This is espe-cially true in the mystery of his cross. Authentic charism will always be costly, will always entail an inescapable element of suffering and of the cross as one attempts to bring to the, contemporary: world or into the contemporary Church something that is truly of Christ. Authentic charism involves .a willingness (albeit with a sinking feeling) to undergo, to endure as did Christ. A previous paragraph in this same document put it this way: "The true relation between genuine charism with its perspectives of new-ness and interior suffering, carries with it an unvarying history of the connection between charism and cross, which, above every motive that may justify misunderstandings, is supremely helpful in discerning the authenticity of a vocation" (12). Finally: "A constructive love of the Church, which absolutely shrinks from causing any discord in her."-This does not mean that conflict can always be avoided, but that one spontaneously shrinks from causing it, that one does not revel in fights or get one's sense of identity from party' divisions and dissensions. Charism leads to the building up of the Church. Charism always involves three factors: It is an enabling gift of the Spirit which so conforms the recipients to Christ that they will build the Church. Mutuae Relationes has touched upon each one of these. This set of three criteria does not mean', that religious women or men will be without the faults and limitations of human beings, but it does mean that even in sinfulness these three religious attitudes will be basically present.5 Between the boldness of the new initiatives which the charismatic nature of religious institutes demands and the expectations of some members of the Church or of the hierarchy, there will be unavoidable moments of tension--tensions which are not resolved by eliminating either side of this dialectic: by quenching the Spirit or by disobedience to the hierarchy in the legitimate exercise of its leadership. Either would mean the destruction of the directive influence of the Spirit of God bringing the Church into this new age. It is possible for bishops (even culpably) to quench the Spirit, to fail to recognize 662/ Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 the charisms given by the Spirit; it is possible for religious to become incapable of serious self-criticism and to reject the need to submit the charism of their lives to the Church for its. discernment. Either of these spells out a disintegration of religious ~life, and both are real possibilities. This is the reason that Mutuae Relationes adds the following addendum to its three criteria: "Moreover, the genuine figure of the founders entails men and. women whose proven virtue (see LG 45) demonstrates a real docility both to the sacred hierarchy and to the following of that inspira-tion, which exists in them as a gift of the Spirit" (51): But these dangers become somewhat mitigated if all, the members of the Church come to, understand what Paul VI brought to expression: that what is most profoundly at issue here demanding prayer and discernment and those sufferings which go with any struggle to recognize the Spirit of God--is the radical identity of religious life as developing charism. The present pope has insisted in Redemptionis Donum that it is out of this that the apostolic presence of religious comes; the charism of every .religious order becomes a charism for the different, needs of the Church: "The apostolate is always born from that particular gift of your founders, which, received from God and approved by the Church, has become a charism for the different needs of the Church and the world at particular moments of history, and in its turn it is extended and strengthened in .the life of the religious communities as one of the enduring elements of the Church's life and apostolate" (15). Both Paul VI and John Paul 11 indicate the dynamic nature of the charismatic: Fidelity to the charism of the founder will demand the changes indicated by the Council and required by the times (ET 12; M R 11), A static understanding of charism leads some to think that religious pre-cisely in order to be faithful to their charism should remain jfist aS they were before, even despite the Council, the magisterial documents, and the needs of the time. But charism is essentially a living reality, and like every living reality confronts continually the questions of growth or decline, of development or disintegration. External changes, even radical external changes, can mean either. Stability and change are not opposed; they are coordinate. You can only change what remains the same; as Gilson remarked many years ago~ the only way you can keep the same fence is if you paint it often! Change is a necessity if the same thing is to continue. Charism involves both change and stability. There is no more reason a priori to expect that the contem-porary religious woman will look like the nuns from the middle ages or the sisters from the nineteenth century than to expect ~that the contemporary Church simply copy the primitive Christian community. The sober assess- The Charism of Religious Life ] 663 ment of this change constitutes the continual discernment done in most religious communities. It is in a parallel ongoing discernment by the hier-archy that their own office will be accomplished.For the major function of the hierarchy here is not so often to discern the charism of a radically new community, but to recognize the development of a charism in terms of a Church ~ind a world that is changing so rapidly. To be aware of the authentic presence of the developing cflarism within a religious community is to be conscious of its fundamental identity, found not in a static repetition of the past but in growth and continuity. NOTES ~The following abbreviations are used for documents of the magisterium to which reference is made in this article: From Vatican H LG Lumen Gentium: PC ¯ Perfectae Caritatis: From the Pontificate of Paul VI ET , Evangelica Testificatio: M R Mutuae Relationes: The. Dogmatic Constitution on the Church The Decree on the Renewal of Religious Life Apostolic Exhortation on the Renew-al of REligious Life Directives for Mutual Relations Between Bishops and R~ligious in the Church, published by CRIS/CB From thb Pontificate of Jo.hn Paul H ~ RH P Religious and Human Promotion CRIS CDRL Contemplative Dimen~io~ of Religious Life CRIS L'VI'R Letter of John Paul H to the Bishops of the United States. April3, 1983 EE Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religous Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate RD Redemptionis Donum: Apostolic Exhortation on Religious Consecration in the Light of the Mystery of Redemption 2See Bernard Olivier, O.P., "I! carisma della vita religiosa nel Concilio e nei documenti post-conciliari," Vita Consecrata 17 ( 1981), pp. 329-33 I. Father Olivier agrees with the previous evaluation of J. M. Tillard that the development within the Council ran as follows: "From the idea of religious state (stato religioso), thus from a perspective essentially static and juridical, from a consideration of the religious in their canonical 6~4 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 situation which characterizes theria in contrast with the laity and clerics, one arrives at the evangelica! and dynamic notion of life with everything which this implies about charity and human involvement" (ibid. pp. 329-330). See also the article by P. R. Regamey, O.P., under the title, "Carismi," Dizionario degli istituti diperfezione, edited by Guerrino Peliccia and Giancarlo Rocca, Vol. 11, columns 299-315~ 3This primacy of charism over legal description is classic in religious rules. Witness for example the "Preface" to the Constitutions of the SoCiety of Jesus: "Although it must be the Supreme Wisdom and Goodness of God, our Creator and Lord, which will preserve, direct, and carry forward in his divine service this least Society of Jesus, just as he deigned to begin it; and although what helps most on our part toward this end must be, more than any exterior constitutions~ the ~interior law of charity and love which the Holy Spirit writes and engraves upon hearts; nevertheless, since the gentle arrangement of Divine Providence requires cooperation from his creatures, and since too the Vicar of Ch'rist our Lord has ordered this, and since the examples given by the saints and reason itself teach us so in our Lord, we think it necessary that constitutions should be written to aid us to proceed better, in conformity with our Institute, along the path of divine service on which we have entered" ( The Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, translated and edited by George E. Ganss, S.J. [St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970]), "Preamble to the Constitutions," [#134]. 4The last word has not been either said or assimilated in this development initiated by the Council and brought to terminological articulation by Paul VI--otherwise it would have been impossible for Essential Elements to claim that the doctrinal richness of the magisterial teachings over the past twenty years "has been distilled and reflected in the revised Code of Canon Law." (3) No external legal structure is adequate to a reality whose identity is primarily charism. Hence the papal letter to the American bishops modifies that claim substantially with the statement: "Much of this doctrinal richness has been distilled and reflected in the revised Code." (3) Beneath the papal claim and that of Essential Elements lies the fundamental difference between the understanding of religious life primarily as a charism of the Spirit or as a juridical status. 5Mutuae Relationes provides a more particularized list for the discernment of authentic charism. Though cited above, it deserves to be included in full: ~The specific charismatic note of any institute demands, both of the founder and of his disciples, a continual examination regarding: fidelity to the Lord; docility to his Spirit; intelligent attention to circumstances and an outlook cautiously directed to the signs of the times; the will to be part of the Church; the awareness of subordination to the sacred hierarchy; boldness of initiatives; constancy in the giving of self; humility in bearing with adversities. The true relation between genuine charism, with its perspectives of newness, and interior suffering, carries with it an unvarying history of the connection between charism and cross, which, above every motive that may justify misunderstandings is supremely helpful in discerning the authenticity of a vocation" (12). "Ourselves, Our Church, Our Dreams": A Province Begins To Plan In early June, the Missouri Province 6f the Society of Jesus to6k a few days together to remember, to share, and to dream. They remembered their roots and their history; they shared their present and their presence to each other; and they began to dream together. Mindful that, in the words of Mutuae Relationes, n. 14 c, "Every ' institute exists for the Church and must enrich her with its distinctive characteristics, according to a particular spirit and a specific mission" (n. 14 c), and that "the particular Church is the historical space in which a ¯ vocation is exercised in the concrete and°realizes its apostolic commitment~ (n. 23, c), the Jesuits invited the shepherds of the Local Churches in which they labored to share with them their present concerns, and to d~eam with them for the future. Among the presentations offered, those published here seem to trans-cend their relevance to their immediate audience. They may well have a value for all religious, serving as pointers and reminders, as models and spurs for the continuing search of individuals and of communities in their constant search for better ways of serving their Lord. ' ~A Local Bishop Speaks to the Province--I John L. May" Archbishop of Saint Louis In preparing these thoughts I did some reading in the history of the Society, the work of the Society through the centuries, and especially its work here in this Local Church. I have been in this see but five years, and how quickly the time has passed. But your corporate presence here has passed well beyond the centennial mark. 665 666/ Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 In preparing these remarks I consulted with a particular Jesuit, a former provincial from another country. I asked his counsel about what emphases I might give, and his response reflected what 1 know to be your own concern, as it was the concern of Ignatius himself, and has been reflected in your history from the beginning. He stated emphatically: "The first and most important thing is working in close union with the local bishop." ¯ That is often a problem from both sides. It is simply not easy to keep in close contact, to share effectively what we are doing and hope to do. But when we don't make the effort, when we don't successfully cope with these difficulties, the result is that both of us--the Society and the Local Church--suffer. At the time of your last General Congregation, Father Dezza, speaking to this same .former provincial, said that in his estimate ninety per cent of the problems the Society experienced in Rome arose from complaints of bishops. That is sad; it is tragic. Bishops will often complain of a certain elitism on the part Of Jesuits, an elitism that is perceived as separating them and their labors from the rest of the work that is going on in a diocese. As a matter of fact, this was also the criticism of Father John Tracy Ellis in an address he delivered some years ago to the Jesuits of New England and later reprinted in Thought magazine. My own experience down south, however, has been y.ery good. The local Jesuit pt?ovincial was extremely solicitous in this regard. He came regularly to visit and to review every single work that we were doing together,, every single appointment, every single new. project which would have a bearing on the diocese. This was the way that we always worked. In a small diocese like Mobile, this made for very coordinated labors. The first point, then, that I would want to share With you, and it is always difficult to make very concrete, is the close union that we must have~ bishops and Jesuits, in working together. Otherwise, there will inevit-ably arise on the part of the bishop either an apparent paternalism, seem-ingly an effort to control everything, to know about everything, to check up on everything, or there will be a perceived negligence, a seeming indif-ference to what is happening in his diocese. In these times above all, we must all hang together or we shall surely hang separately. Secondly, a work that is characteristic of your Society in the Local Church, and one that is important to my topic for today, is scholarship. In that same address of Father Ellis, a Jesuit superior is reported to have complained that a number of Jesuits are convinced that scholarship is necessary, indeed they join the lament of those who clamor that Catholic A Province Begins to Plan scholars are few and far between; but then, when these same Jesuits are given Opportunity for scholarly pursuits, they promptly gallop off to dissi-pate themselves in other, greener pastures. If they are given time to read and write, too often we find that these Jesuits soon become involved in preaching, in retreat work, or in some other immediately rewarding directly apostolic task. Certainly you would not expect a diocesan bishop to belittle the value of these apostolic works. It is simply that, as Father Ellis has told us many times, "Scholarship is a jealous mistress." Truly significant scholarly achievement requires a spiritual and intellectual asceticism that is prepared even to forgo directly apostolic and priestly work for the lonely but valuable, and always necessary, labor of study, research and writing. Those few who are capable of such work should stick to it. Indeed, they need the encour-agement of the rest of us if they are to continue to do so. They need our grateful recognition of their attainments. How much we have needed that kind of scholarship in these days. The need for clear, insightful analysis of what is happening in the Church and in our society remain~ great. What a tremendous gift it is to a Local Church to have a number of truly scholarly priests'and religious within its borders-- people who are resource persons in the be~t sense of the term. Thirdly, there is another work for which the Society is rightfully well known from its beginning. ! am told that, though St. Ignatius didn't perceive its value for the Society immediately, even during his lifetime he came to see how the work of education was going to be vital to the life and ministry of the Society. Again, what a magnificent contribution you have made to Local Churches from the days of the Ratio Studiorum of 1599. What has been accomplished for the Local Church in the course of these centuries! Certainly I can speak of.what I perceive here in Saint Louis. But in my past experience as well, 1 have perceived what Spring Hill College has meant to the whole community of Alabama. It was th.efirst institution of higher education in .the entire state, founded even before the state Univer-sity of Alabama! The implications of that fact in terms of service to the larger community are obvious. Here about us there is evident the magnificent contribution made by Saint Louis University for this entire community, but even more so for the Local Church. There are also your two high schools here. It is a tragic thing, at least in the opinion of this local bishop, to see in our time the abandonment of education by some religious communities in the Local Church. We talk so much about consulting the people, the laity. If there is one 668 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 thing 1 hear from the laity, it is the plea for good Catholic schools. This is the plea of our people. True it may be that their concept may be different from ours in what they look for and expect from their schools. But, if we consult seriously what the people think, that is their constant plea. And you are meeting it here. My fourth heading has to do with the missions. Jbsuits have constituted a major missionary society of the Church down through the centuries. Ordinarily in this context we think about the "foreign missions." We tend to think thus invariably, automatically--and sometimes exclusively. But, coming as I do from my involvement in the Catholic Church Exten-sion Society, I have a few thoughts about the home missions as well! In light of my own thoughts, I am convinced that, as from the days of Father DeSmet:and the work of Jesuits which has gone on and continues to go on am.ong the Native American people, much of your missionary emphasis, especially now and in the immediate future, could well be focused on our own "home" missions. What is "mission"?. As we know, in the aftermath of Vatican I1 there was a vast reassessment of the concept of "missions'." There was much questioning--sometimes destructively so--about the work of missionaries, about what had been done through the centuries in the name of missions. Today, though, I am sure we all agree that some of the neediest mis-sions are in the hearts of our major cities--right here in "River City," and in so many, many other places. When we talk about liberation, liberation from all the consequences of discrimination and poverty and suffering throughout the world, we should also become awareof all the destructive consequences wrought within our very own society. Our people, perhaps, aren't impoverished in the same sense as are people so often in the foreign-mission lands, but they really are poor--poor in so many other ways. Hence the importance of your work in the poor parishes of our cities, where you labor day in and day out. Noted, too, if not so directly parochial in their scope, are your other works of. evangelization for the poor and for others: the Living and Learn-ing program, the work of the Sacred Heart Hour; your preaching aposto-lates, the columns that are written in our Saint Louis Review. All of this constitutes a great mission work that you are doing, algreat and important mission work in the Local Church. In no way would I want to downgrade your work in foreign lands. These are most important. But sometimes we do not see clearly enough the mission work that needs to be done so badly right here for go many, many people. These, too, truly need to be liberated from the restricted outlook and malevolent influences which are at work in their lives. A Province Begins to Plan A fifth heading recalls your retreat work, indeed, your spiritual work of all kinds. Here again is a great apostolate of the Society from the very beginning, based upon the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius himself. The retreat movement, as we remember, was questioned in so many ways foi: some years. But now it is again valued as a work that is more necessary today perhaps than ever before. It is a work that is so important because it keeps before our people in a more profound and personal way the Good News they need to hear. There are so many people in positions of leadership in this community who tell me that th.ey keep in touch with the things that really matter because of the retreat that they regularly make at your White House. Then there is the work of counseling and spiritual direction! So many people come day after day to your confessionals here--even today when, to all appearances, the sacrament is scarcely appeciated. But the numbers who come to the downtown chapels--the Alverne, your College Church, and other such places--attest to the importance of that. ministry. Many people really do want it. .Campus Ministry assists the young people who more and more in these days are sensing their spiritual need. It wasn't so long ago that there seemed to be no young people coming to us, no young people interested in what we had to offer them. But now that, too, is changing. Once again.we begin to see them realizing their great need and we recognize the important work that is being done with our young people. Let us tak~ some words of Mother Teresa for our closing thought. Sometimes she seems like a modern-day Catherine of Siena who, reportedly illiterate, became a Doctor of the Church, and has a permanent influence in the life .of the Church. Mother Teresa, herself without great educational background, has said some things which we all need tO ponder. One such observation she has made is that the Church languishes today, not because it asks too much from the~modern age, but because it asks too little. It has tried to make its faith plausible when it should have presented the high, hard way of Christ, without compromising his demand for the total sacrifice of self. Total sacrifice of self! Is not this an essential constituent of Ignatian spirituality? We all need to hear this message. We need to see it lived in the lives of Jesuits; we need to hear it preached in their teachir~g, in their counseling, everywhere. As one bishop, I can attest personally, but also pastorally, that I have received so much from the Society under all these five headings. And I will ever be in your debt. 671~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 A Local Bishop Talks to the Province--2 Richard C. Hanifen Bishop of Colorado Springs, Colorado l am delighted to speak after Archbishop May and to pick up from: his conclusion, namely to treat with you further about the concept of Ignatian~ spirituality in the Local Church. Archbishop May and I had decided earlier that we would proceed in this fashion because of the one principal Jesuit presence in my diocese: the Sacred Heart Retreat House in Sedalia. To me,.this is an extremely impor-tant part of our new diocese and a source of great pride to us. It also provides me with an obvious occasion for reflecting with you about Igna-tian spirituality in the context of the Local Church. First of all, permit me to review what I see as actually happening in the Local Churches. I will~ reflect on this in terms of priests, religious, and :laity. First o,f all, what is happening with priests, specifically with diocegan priests--though ultimately you will see the same happening among you religious priests. Diocesan priests are being opened through suffering. They are learning the role that Jesus learned from the Father: they are learning obedience through suffering. Well, so are you. They are being opened up with a can-opener to a sense of their need for spirituality. They have found that they are a very needy group of men. There is a new awareness of their need for a deepening spirituality. Young priests are actually seeking contemplation. I can recall the days not so very long ago when seminarians wouldn't let you Jesuits direct silent retreats. But things are different now. Young priests are seeking contempla-tion- including specifically Ignatian forms of contemplation.-. Priests are also increasingly seeking fraternity. One of the phenomena that is becoming more and more common among diocesan priests, and also among religious, is the Jesus Caritas form of spiritually based, priestly fraternity; they are.seeking out the Emmaus form of priestly fraternity; there is the Ministry to Priests movement of Vince Dwyer, and tother programs as well. This is actually what is happening now. It is the reality. Bishops themselves are also seeking priestly fraternity through the Jesus ,Caritas or the,Emrnaus models. Throughout the country more and more bishops are joining into. fraternity for prayer, in recognition of their ¯ spiritual needs. Regarding religious, this is what I see happening. Many women reli-gious especially are now living and working apart from their respective communities. They are allowed, even encouraged, to make their personal A Province Begins to Plan / 671 discernment and to find their own jobs. A result of this new situation is that it is creating the need for community where these religious actually are. Many of them, living in apartments rather than corivents, are looking for spiritual and companionate forms of living that don't come from their own religious communities. ¯ These religious are also looking for healing in their lives--the healing of woimds which are coming to them from the new forms of their ministry among our people. They are no longer teaching in grade and high schools, as Archbishop May mentioned. Rather many of them are pastoral ministers, working in parish scenes where the pain is oozing out of people every day. They are wounded healers, and they are looking for healing themselves. Often'enough they can't find this healing from their own community which is at a remove from them. They need the grace and the awareness of the discernment of the Holy Spirit in their lives--surely a key concept of Ignatian spirituality. How are they to discern their life-plan? In terms of the laity, "peer ministry" is already here. It is not coming, it is already here. Lay people are ministering to one another. Para-parochial and other experiences are developing among our laity a new awareness of their need for a deepening spirituality in their lives. The Cursilio move-ment, Marriage Encounter, TEC, Search, Parish Renewal, Renew, and the newly forming Basic Christian Communities are demanding of lay people that they themselves become ministers, and the kind of ministers they are going to be is going to depend on the spiritual formation that can be given to their lives. I see "Pop Spirituality" as 'being "in" now. More and more 'lay people are studying spiritual direction in order to become spiritual directors to other lay people. That is not coming. It is here. Not altogether Unrel~ited to this phenomenon, I see a growing concern among the clergy, especially diocesan clergy; over the question of their own role as counselors and spiritual directors in the'lives of lay people. You may have noticed that across the country clergy are becoming more and more liable to civil lawsuits over their counseling practices. That is a reality which, whether we realize it or not, is having an impact on their willingness to enter into spiritual direction and into counseling relationships with lay people. Some are .beginning to back away altogether from counseling. What will happen there? I see also,~ as you do, growing forms o~'ecumenical counseling groups in our cities. People are now seeking out those whom they feel Understand what they term Christian Counseling. And that is a phenomenon with many ramifications, because many of those getting into what is called 672 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 Christian C~unseling Centers are Fundamentalist Christians, and they counsel rather differently than we would. I see also a growing dichotomy between spiritual formation and social responsibility. By way of concluding, then, I would like to recommend the following to the Jesuit community as it discerns, with .the help of the Spirit, its own present and its own future: --In regard to priests and bishops, I hope that the Jesuit community will continue its commitment to spiritual direction. Permit me to share with. you just one case in point in our diocese of Colorado Springs. At the Sacred Heart Retreat Center, your Father Jerry Borer conceived the idea of becoming a "circuit,riding" spiritual companion to our priests. And so he goes on the road monthly, reaching out to our priests where they are. In his visits he spends the night with these priests. Heeats with them and talks with them. Those who want spiritual direction get it. Those who want to go to confession get it. Those who just want a priest-friend get that also, This program is meeting with more and more appreciation. At a recent convention of our priests, it was brought up as one of the real strengths of our young diocese, It also represents, I think, a creative use of Ignatian spirituality. In fact, the overall Sedalia ministry itself is a powerful influence in the diocese. It is pow~erful also for priests and bishops. I am excited about ~ome of the construction that is going on there at the present time because it indicates your growing commitment to the possibility of developing Pous, tinias, hermitages of a sort, for diocesan priests. I really think they are going to ask for such. The tougher things get, the more they are going to want to find hermitage! --Archbishop May and I have been together on more than one occasion for an eight-day directed spiritual retreat according to the Ignatian style. This is something that is going on across the country, in case you didn't know it. It represents, I think, another instance of Jesuits sneaking into the Local Church, this time through the souls of the bishops. You talk abou~t the pastoral letters which are coming in a steady stream from the bishops. You talk about the way that American bishops are be~having nowadays, something which is of no little concern to everybody-- including the American bishops. Where is that coming from? Why are bishops now beginning to act like brothers instead of competitors? It is because they are praying together! That is why. And that is growing. And your contribution to this phenomenon is bigger° than you know. --In terms of the laity, the phenomenon of lay ministry has shown me A Province Begins to Plan / 673 something that I don't know if any of us really expected. We thought that, as we ran out of priests, lay people would rush in to take over those ministries., They did! But when they got in there, they found out they needed more priests! They found that the more they minister, the more they need "priesting." There is no less need for priests now because the laity are active in the Church. There is more need. But what will be the role of the priests in their lives? Lay ministers, too, need spiritual healing. They, too, are being wound-ed-- as I said about religious--by their ministry. Too often this wounding is done by their pastor. Obviously, he can't be their healer. Who will? So they also are looking for hermitage--in one sense or another. In growing numbers the laity are coming for spiritual direction. Those of you in retreat work know that you are not just doing retreats on weekends anymore. You are dealing with lay women during the week; you are dealing with lay persons coming for individual retreats. They need growth and healing in order to become healers themselves. You can help them. --I hope that you will be able, somehow, to move into the area of training lay spiritual directors. I am not really convinced that it is being done right. I am a little worried about the form of direction that is sometimes going on. There really is a kind of a "Pop Spirituality" going the rounds which is not altogether healthy. I would like to see the Jesuit community take a serious look at how you can contribute your Ignatian spirituality ~o the training of lay people to become spiritual directors. --I would like also to see develop within the Local Church a spiritual approach to social justice. Let me reflect on that for a few minutes. I am in a city that is dedicated to war--in the name of peace! °The city really is dedicated to war. I don't mean to put down the people in the defense industry and in the militai'y. But the city of Colorado Springs is surrounded by four war-camps. One Easter Sunday I said that if they ever declare peace, we'll go broke. How do I minister in the city of Colorado Springs to people whose livelihood comes from the prospect of war? What would happen to their lives if we ever did declare peace? Who will help them to face the reality of their livelihood--and the livelihood of our nation--which is. actually a war-based economy? Who will address what lam calling here the spirituality of social justice? Frankly I don't think we have yet discovered the way to do it. May .I challenge you to help us? ~. Is there, in fact, a way in which persons skilled in Ignatian spirituality can take a community, work in it for a long period of time--because 674/~Reviewfor Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 credibility is key to getting through to people's spiritual lives--in order to help a diocese to address questions of social justice from the standpoint of their integral spiritual nature? I really would love to see that happen. This would mean that somehow we need to be helped to address the question of simplicity of life, the question of concern for others, and really the question of our education, to a large extent, concerning the Third and Fourth Worlds. Who can help us with that? --In regard to religious. I would ask that you continue and enhance your efforts to help religious women especially to develop a life-plan by which they can satisfactorily minister in the community, to help them become healed even as they are wounded in their ministry to others. These are some of my hopes from Ignatian spirituality within the Local Church. These are some of the ways in which I can see the Society of Jesus ministering in and to the Local Church. My Dream Jarrel Wade, S.J. Pastor of Zampul, Honduras I would like to begin with the Church that I know, the Church of Hondu-ras. And when I talk now, I am thinking of communities that are sociologi-cally small towns, villages--places where still the Word of God has not had the effect it should. I would dream that the Church would be inspired to take this Word and make it heard clear and strong: the Word of Jesus--of him who .saves. And 1 would like to se6 among all my people, as I have seen in some of their, lives, that when people do take this Word into their hearts they are changed. As they begin to read it, to meditate and live by the Word of God, they begin, to love where they have never loved before. They begin to forgive one another. And they begin to seek the teaching of the apostles. This is conversion. And once it is started, it never ends,, Above all, I have found that the sign that the Word is being proclaimed, the sign that proves that God is present in his Word, present in the person of Jesus to whgm the written word of Scripture leads us, is that. this Word leads men to love one another. It leads to brotherhood. It leads to thinking about others in your town, in your family. It leads to giving yourselves to, others. P~ople share their lives when they have heard this Word. They share their goods. They share their persons. A Province~Begins to Plan / 675 " l desire that the Church be able to bring it to pass that every person might be able to hear the name of Jesus. That is the beginning of salvation. It is the beginning of life. One Of the ~greatest,sadnesses that I experience in my life is that | am not able to preach this Word effectively enough and' to live it visibly enough so that those to whom | preach, with whom I live, would immediately want to change~ It' hurts me to see people that are humble and poor not be able to open themselves to this life-giving Word. The Church has to rethink its message. It has to speak its message clearly to all the world: Christ is its Savior. Then I would like to see in the whole Church what I have seen these days here among my brother Jesuits, and what I would like to see among my own people at home. I would like to see'among them the celebration of the presence of God in their lives, according to their own cultures and in whatever ways ~they can. 1 would like to see them bring'to their liturgy lives that are in union with what they believe with what they live in the midst of their families, what they live in their civil lives: what goes on in govern-ment and what goes on in the buying and selling of their marketplaces. I would like to celebrate with them the fact that a man's Word speaks the truth of his life. Finally, 1 would like to 'see them celebrate the fact that they really do give themselves to others. When people are! able to celebrate the presence of God ambng them-selves, what ~ve see is that men and women learn to walk together to satisfy their common needs. We see that they try to not dominate the way that others think and the way that others decide. They leave people free.' They respect this po~,er to decide and to love in others, and they want to give this freedom to the community, to enable the community to grow. Domi-nation must be stopped--in the Church, and in civil 'life." I would like to see respect for each person. I would like to see us learn to listen to each other's thoughts, however ~simple and uncomplicated they be. I would like to see us respect each one's sincere decision to live accord: ing to each one's own 'lights. :~ I would also like to s(e how these Christians, heating the Word of God, and hoping in his promises, learn that it is possible to not hate, that it is possible toforgive, thiat it is possible to live as brothers and sisters, that it is possible that the shadow of God's kingdom is actually upon us. A campesino once tbld me that the kingdom of God is seen when, in our lives; we are llke the shadow of that kingdom. People can see that something is coming. They can see that something is present. It is almost h~re--but it is not yet: I would lik~e to see that with thi~ hearing of the Word of God there 676 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 comes a commitment of our lives, a consecration of all that there is in our lives for us as priests, for everyone in our baptism. I would like to see that each one of us, by our way of acting, might give forth to the world the Word that the Iov6 of God is greater than the hate that there is in the world, that we all can break bread together as brothers and sisters., This is my vision of the Church. This means that bishops and priests and religious have a definite role to play, a definite place to serve. We should not dominate the laity, and, especially .today, we must learn to become sensitive so as no longer to dominate women. As I look at the Society and at our province, I would like to see each one of us be a man of prayer, a man who can be alone, a man who can test his spirit in the presence of God. And I would like that this solitary prayer be a priestly prayer, that it enflame a burning desire in us that, by whatever we do, somehow all might come to know Christ's Name and love him. I would like to see this prayer transform our lives, so that we might show the world how to live as brothers and sisters. I would also like to see for our Society that we might all be men of the Church, and at the same time, men deeply imbued, men deeply touched by the reality of humanity. I would like to see our Society continue to resist atheism in all its forms-- even in our own lives. I would like to see from those of you who would be in the cutting edge of thought and practice, that through you we might have a significant part in the renewal of the Church. Especially I would like to see us as the forerunners (in the most literal sense) in a faith that is lived, seeking social justice, seeking peace among nations and men. And above all, and this without any power, I would like to see us defend the hiamble people, the defenseless, the poor, the needy--and to do this, I would tend to add, as Christ did. I would also like to see our Society and our province continue to be made up of "Men of the Word" men who are continually meditating on the written word which leads us to the Person who is Jesus. I would like to see us give this Good News to give Jesus to the world. I would like to see us learn how'to adapt this Word to all place~ and to all cultures and to all times., so that men could become free even from themselves and learn to be Christ to one another. I would like to see us, as Jesuits, in all our apostolates be men who confirm the faithful in their faith, who strengthen the Church as a sign of salvation and liberation for all especially those outside it. I would also like to see in our province and in the Society that we be authentic men. I would like to see that the authenticity of our apostolates A Province Begins to Plan / 677 manifest itself in "our way of proceeding.'.' We are different. We do have particular way of acting. And, as done by this discerning community that is the :Society, I would like to see verified the mission of each. one of .us. I would like our austerity of life, our poverty, to make us credible. I would also like to see the further practice of this discernment--which is so difficult and so seldom seen in our communities, but at the same time so dearly desired by all of us--so that our Society might continue to make its option preferentially for the poor in its service of the faith and through our promotion of justice. If this discernment is to happen, there must be prayer in the community and in our lives. For this discernment to happen, we must also know human reality. We must be among the people. We must feel the pulse of the times. We should be able to do this at all levels of society, but especially at the level of those who do not have a voice, at the level of the poor. And in this discerning community, I would like to see us try to determine where the Spirit is leading us, how many things we would have to change, what we would have to do if the Spirit of Christ, the Spirit of love and brotherhood were to penetrate our lives. In sum, permit me to list "My Desires": 1. I desire to be "a companion of Jesus the Lord." 2. There is a desire which, in these last years, has become very strong in me, even as I recognize that I am not near arriving there. I desire to find the presence of God, of the Lord, in people-~in people with faces and noses-in concrete people: in the people of my parish; people who love me and people who don't love me. In this sense I would sincerely desire to have this capacity to find God in all. I would like to lead the people that I serve in this, too. 3. I would like to grow in union with Jesus Christ in prayer. 1 would like to be a man who is sincerely one with Christ--in my weakness and in my strength. 4. I desire to draw the people I deal with, especially the young, to a service of the Church, and of society, for the renovation of the world. ! would like to call these people to renovate their faith, to grow again, to be reborn. I desire that the crucial work of announcing the Name of Jesus be given to the layman, to the religious, and to the priest alike; and that this announcement of the Word in the Church Would renovate us as well, would make us new again. And I would desire that, by our announcing of this Word, faith and life might be united in us, that out of this union of faith and life there might result a more just world, a more brotherly world. 5. I desire to be forgiven for all my faults, for my lack of love. I desire to be gentle. 678 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 , 6. I desire to w6~k among thepoor campesino~ who labor in th~ fields in the parish of Zampul. I want to help them enter into the New Church. I want to learnfrom them: I want to learn their patience. I want to learn their dependence on God their absolute dependence on him. 7. I. will even share this with you: I want their God to be my God. I want their people to be my people. ! want their land to be my land. I want to be buried in Honduras. 8. At the same time, I want to obey. I want to serve where the Church and the Society call me. I want to be a Jesuit. Christ the Center of Our Vowed Life by Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three articles on the vows of religion are available as a single reprint: i o The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cruciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The Holiness of Saint Francis: Spiritual Vision and Lived Suffering Matthias Neuman, OS.B. Father Neuman's last article, "The Benedictine Prayer of Beauty," was published in the November/December issue of 1984. He continues to reside and teach at St~ Meinrad Archabbey; St. Meinrad, IN 47577. The twentieth-century Greek novelist Nikos Kazantzakis in his spiritual autobiography, Rdport to Greco, relates an experience in his own life when he visited the village of Assisi. He went there particularly to learn and absorb something of the spirituality of St. Francis. As he was walking through the small streets of the town trying to imbibe the feel of that unusual city, he happened upon another visitor to Assisi, a man from D~nmark. They struck up a conversation, as tourists from various coun-tries often do when they speak a common language. And discovering that they were engaged in the same, process of searching for the spirit of Francis, they spent the rest of the day together. They walked through the town and down into the valley to visit the Portiuncula. They visited the small hermit-ages on the outsirts of Assisi. As they passed these hours they shared their hopes and feelings a.nd understandings of Francis. Kazantzakis says they lost all sense of time as they spoke about the vision and spiritual quest of Francis. Toward evening he returned to the home of the friends with whom he was staying. As he walked through the door, they asked, "Who was that man you were walking and talking with?" He replied, "It was just a tourist from Denmark I met." They continued, "You were talking about Francis, weren't you?" "Yes," he said puzzled, "how did you know?" "Because," they explained, "as the two of you walked and spoke there seemed to be a glow that radiated from both of you~" 679 6110 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 That story illustrates well the mystique and power that the vision of Francis still holds for people hundreds of years later. Most people with a scholarly outlook on the history of Christian spirituality, of the many ways that individuals have sought to relate to the mystery of God in their lives, have been attracted by Francis of Assisi, by his personality, by his actions and vision. Sir Kenneth Clark, in his brilliant portrayal of the high points of Western civilization, calls Francis a religious genius, the "greatest I believe that Europe has ever produced." Francis led a renewal in Christian spiritu-ality that was long desired by many, but which, until Francis, had been accomplished by none. He became the pinnacle of the medieval quest for a total reformation in Christian and ecclesial living. To the popular Christian mind, that multitude who know a few facts about Francis, he remains one of the most attractive and appealing of Christian saints. He was an individual who desired to follow Jesus alone; he wished to strip himself of every other concern, save the total following of Jesus Christ. That was the real goal of his ideal of poverty. The simple and total following of Christ gave him such a joyfulness and a trust that he. could call the sun his brother and the moon his sister. He could feel such a brotherhood with nature and be filled to overflowing with enthusiasm that to preach a sermon to the birds seemed the natural thing to do. This was the religious spirit that exuded from his hear(. This Francis is surely one of the most popular of Christian saints. Both the scholarly and the popular views of Francis are justifiable. They represent two different ways in which he serves as a model of holiness for Christians, In this article we want to look at Francis to see how he provides a guide, a direction, a way into a deeper relationship with God. The popular image of Francis, the Francis of joy, the Francis of communi6n with nature, .the Francis who lived in simplicity, is built upon the ideals that he sought to live out in his relationship with God. That popular image provides us with a learning that we need to reflect on and to pray over. The spirituality of any Christian believer needs a vision, an ideal, to provide a direction just as Francis had in his life. That ideal vision of the man of poverty and joy wh,o loved nature is one aspect of Francis' holiness. But there is another dimension of the holiness of Francis, one which revolves far more around the real facts.of life: the trials, the struggles and the suffering he endured in trying to live out his ideal. For Francis sought to live his religious vision in the midst of a society that did not understand or appreciate what he was trying to accomplish. Even the official leaders of his church struggled to grasp how his vision could possibly be called Christian. They could not understand him; they misunderstood him; they frequently caused him great pain. Francis lived 1he Holiness of Saint Francis / 6111 with pain and suffering all his life, endured it, offered it up, made it a means of his growing identification with the Mystery of Christ. In both his spiritual vision and in the lived suffering of his career Francis is a saint of the Church, a saint and a model for us. In this article I would Jike to reflect on both of these aspects of his life. Let us begin by seeking to grasp more clearly his ideals. Spiritual Vision The best place to begin our sefirch is to examine Francis' own conver- ¯ sion. The historical sources do not provide that much clear informatiofi about his life; many stories and legends grew up and infiltrated themselves early into the histories of his life. It is often difficult to say whether or not an event or episode, even those well-known in popular lore, really depict what actually happened. Still we.can sketch the major events and outlines of his career. He was born around the year llSl or 1182 in the town of Assisi. Assisi lies in the provihce of Umbria in centrhl Italy about a hundred miles northeast ~f the city of Rome. As far as we know, his parents were good people. His father was a successful cloth ~erchant who traveled to foreign countries to sell his wares and make purchases. His mother seemed to have been a pious and quiet individual wholiked to pray and who made pilgrimages to the holy places of that time. Francis himself appears to have grown up as an average young man, even a bit more frivolous than most. He liked fine clothes and parties and enjoyed.showing la bellafigura, as many youngmen did. Francis grew up as a typical young man of medieval Italy in a family of the rising merchant class. He breathed the ',crusading ideal," somewhat romantically, as did many of the. young people of his day. The city-states of the Italian peninsula of that age carried on running feuds with,neighboring cities; Assisi and the principal town of Umbria, Perugia, were no exceptions. Hostilities between the two towns broke out in 1202 and Francis volunteered gallantly, to fight ~for Assisi. His military career was short-lived; he was taken hostage in his first battle. Through some means, perhaps a ransom paid by his father, Francis was released and soon afterwards he was once again in the city of Assisi. Sometime after this military episode, perhaps around 1204-1206, changes begin to occur in Francis' behavior and attitudes. It is the onset of a radical conversion. Historical sources do not clearly explain why this begins, or whether it occurs suddenly or slowly builds over a period of time. (The popular episode of the crucifix speaking to Francis is a later addition, telescoping a lengthy complex period into a single divine act--a frequent practice of traditional hagiography). In this period Francis seems to have lost his sense of direction and what he wanted to accomplish in life. 6~12 ] Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 He began to exhibit strange behavior. Moods of depression overwhelmed him and at times he would take cloth from his father's store and either sell it and give the money to the poor or simply distribute it to the poor living in huts on the outskirts of Assisi. He would disappear.for days at a time, going into the hills to pray. In this conversion period of about five years his ideal of perfection and spiritual vision slowly takes shape. His conversion creates a radical rupture; Francis leaves the world of his familial upbringing and the societal values of his culture. He forges his own unique set of Christian ideals to form a spiritual vision of life. First, Francis came to realize and tograsp deeply in his heart that to have real meaning and true direction in life requires a radical following of Jesus Christ. ~He had surely heard that read often in church, but it seems now for the first time to have really struck home. The realization crept into the depths of his heart and he began to make changes in the way he lived and acted. Francis frequently said we must put on Christ as completely as possible. That meant radically and totally! At the basis of any authentic Christian conversion is this selfless imitation of Jesus. This conversion needs a beginning point and Francis saw the process beginning with the practice of poverty, the ridding oneself of the pressures of all worldly possession s. He heard the Gospel passage one day in church: "If you would be perfect go and sell all that you have, give it to the poor and come follow me" (Mt 19:21). Francis heard those words and he took them sincerely to heart. For him the goods of this world, any possessions that we have, material or mental, create anxiety. They create worry and begin to blur our values. There. is a story told in the Franciscan legends about a young noyice who came and asked Francis for a little book of psalms so he could learn his prayers. He knew. that Francis adamantly insisted that the brothers are to own nothing. Nonetheless the novice made his plea: "Just a little praye~ book." Francis. so the story goes, looked at him and said: "Just a prayer book! And when you have that, then you will want a breviary! And after you have a breviary you'll want one decorated with all manner of jewels. And after you get that, you'll want to sit in a chair and pray your breviary like a bishop does. And after that you'll want a servant to bring you your book while you sit in the chair and pray from your beautifully decorated breviary. Just a psalter? No, no. no." Francis deeply believed that he should own absolutely nothing except the clothes on his back. He wanted no land, no permanent hom~e, no extra clothes: he sought to wander as a beggar, to live in abandoned buildings, and to eat only what he could beg from people. Needless to say, Francis' ideal was extremely controversial even in his own day. Many churchmen insisted it could not be lived by normal people. Francis said it could and he did it. If The Holiness of Saint Francis one is to radically follow Christ, then one must give up the values of the society, the wealth and.theproperty that impose a network of concern on you. While poverty was the linchpin and the controversial topic of Francis' program, in his mind it really prepared the way for the even more important principle of true freedom. Freedom of heart allowed him to really trust in God's providence: Poverty was the means, not the end! The following of Christ meant that you could come to that point in your life when the trust of God was honestly and truly your daily support. Not ' possessions ~or power or status or intelligence, neither insurance policies nor well-placed friends; only ,a simple trust in God. This also touches the meaning of obedience in Francis' mind; we place ourselves in God's hands no matter what happens in this life. Christian obedience is fundamentally our willing-ness to accept this life and be content with it ~in the way that God gives it to us, Francis' socially active life in his family and culture gave him no real peace. His peace and his trust appeared when he put himself completely in God's hands .to accept whatever life gave him. That same trust .in God's providence, which Francis lived better than anyone else, led him to believe, in the goodness of creation and our need for a close association and harmony with all natural things. For Francis one of the ~clearest evidences, of God's' beautiful providence lies in the stunning beauty of the earth. He loved flowers and animals; he loved birds; he loved,the sun, the moon, the stars and the trees. This Franciscan spiri-tual principal found moving expression not only in Francis' own Canticle of the Sun but in the many stories later collected in the Fioretti and other writings. Franco Ziferelli's movie, '.'Brother Sun and Sister Moon," so beautifully portrayed Francis' love of the earth. This wasan earth he could' fall on and feel a oneness with. This enthrallment so seized Francis that he could spontaneously deliver a sermon to some birds--who also needed to be preached to. , His life carried a simplicity and a constant love of nature.~But that love of nature serves not merely to :appreciate beauty, but even more it is a sign. of how much God cares for~us. That loving closeness to creation led Francis to live and practice an attitude .of life that is supremely joyful! Joy is the spiritual .style of Francis' life. This joy .created .love even for the poorest of God's creatures: Novelists have humorously mused that if Francis were the gatekeeper of ,heaven, mice, mosquitoes and even roaches would be welcomed in: He simply loved everything that~existed! That warmth and gentleness will,always remain among the'most appealing aspects of Francis" spiritual vision. He was to all who met him indeed a happy Christian. There is a charming episode [old about him and a few of his comPanions journeying to Rome to get the pope's approval for their new "order." The 61~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 pope at that time was Innocent III, a man who, it was rumored, sucked on lemons, such was his disposition and manner of dealing with everything in life. Francis appears before this dour and powerful pope to get approval for. his order. At this time the pope was close to imposing a moratorium on new religious oi'ders; they were multiplying like mad throughout Europe. Francis entered the presence of Innocent III; he began to vividly explain his vision for the "Poor men of Assisi" and what this life meant for the Church of Christ. And the story goes, as he poured out his spiritual ideal, he became so animated that he began to dance right in front of the pope, all the time telling what it means to be happy and a joyful Christian. Francis was an individual who possessed a love for Christ that simply overflowed in the way he lived his Christianity. Why were so many people drawn to Francis in his day? Probably as much because of his joy, his humor and his enthusiasm as much as any-thing else. If we sum up his spiritual ideals,, the poverty, the trust in God's providence, the closeness with the beauty and goodness of creation, and a joyful, warm loving attitude of life, Francis indeed shows us the true meaning of Jesus Christ and his Gospel. But one final step must be taken. If we really believe this in our hearts, then we have to go out and share it with others. This Gospel must be proclaimed to all. And so Francis set out " to preach this vision of the Christian Gospel, this understanding of what Christian holiness is all about. He heard the Gospel say clearly that all are called to spread the kingdom of God. Francis possessed no special training. He never went to a seminary, 'never took any religion courses, was never ordained a priest. He was an ordinary, average Christian who one day heard in church the word of the Gospel and let it penetrate into his heart. From there he set out to preach this meaning of the faith of Jesus Christ to all he met. ~ That in summary fashion describes the popular image of Francis and his religious vision. It was a vision that in his own time captivated all manner of people, poor and rich, those who simply heard and rejoiced, those who were willing to donate vast sums of land, money, artistic wealth, to the Franciscan movement. His image captivated people ofhis time, as it has ever since. It was indeed a remarkable vision of what Christian holiness is and it remains so for us today. Francis' ideal always returns to that radicalness of searching our lives" and our hearts. It asks us, prods us: are we willing to cast off even our most precious possessions and supports to be able to live a real trust in God's providence? The key remains, poverty. The key is that we are willing to strip ourselves of the human strengths we usually rely on. We must arrive at a trust in God where we can accept what life gives us, and accept it joyfully. To Francis the real signs of the Christian 7he Holiness of Saint Francis who has attained that trust are joy, happiness, warmth and gentleness. Overall there is nothing terribly new in this teaching of Francis. It had all been said before many times. Why was it so popular? Why does it remain so popular? Because in the way that Francis lived he held togeth.er in one personal vision aspects that people deemed incompatible. He was a man who lived poorly, and yet was deeply happy. He was a man who loved Christ, .and yet he'also loved all that was created in this world. He trusted solely in God, and yet he could live freely. He held together each of those different aspects that the common opinion said could not be held together. You can do one or the other, you can either love God or love the things of this creation. You can be poor, but you can't be happy at the same time: You can trust solely in God, but it will constrict you. The marvel of Francis' .life was that he merged all these "contradictions" in one lifestyle. That was his religious vision and incredible contribution to medieval Christian spir-ituality. His was not so much a new teaching as a new practice. His practice proved that we really can live the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Lived Suffering Beyond Francis' ideal view of Christian life lies another, and less well known, dimension of his holiness. This is the St. Francis of lived history, the one fewer people know about. This Francis was completely caught up in the history of his time and was entangled in multiple societal, conflicts and family disputes. This second Francis knew anger, humiliation and failure; he even bordered on despair several times in his life. He failed in many ways to see his spiritual ideals put completely into practice. As with so many religious individuals, he was forced to compromise. In this Francis we view a considerably different image of Christian holiness. It teaches us that holiness cannot always be a crystal clear ideal that one lives out perfectly all the time; rather, true Christian holiness requires an individual to make his or her way as best he or she can in the midst of many contradictory forces. The path of holiness counts halfway successes, some failures, and compromise much of the time. This Francis of lived suffering, just as much as the Francis of the pure ideal of following Christ, has a great deal to teach us about Christian sanctity. He tells us that,true holiness must be won by flesh and blood individuals who live in the Church of their time, a Church that is often confused and unsure, Let us now turn to consider the lived holiness of Francis that emerged through the particular conflicts of his life. An initial and continuing controversy swirled around his religious ideal, especially his conviction of the need for absolute poverty in following Christ. That belief flew in the face of the religious and societal convictions 686/ Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1985 of his time and caused much, family conflict as well as Church dispute~ ,Francis came from a family that was quite successful as. members of the rising merchant class. His father was a member of the upwardly mobile, a forerunner of our modern businessman. Possessions, material and social, meant a great deal to such a family. Pietro Bernadone, Francis' father, worked very hard to give much to his family and to his son. But Francis flatly rejected all that hard,earned wealth. He even gave away ("wasted") his father's money. He gave away his father's merchandise, even to the point that it became necessary to lock him out of t.he store. Many heated argu-ments erupted between Francis and his father. Francis would then leave to go off and pray in a cave. His father became convinced that he had a mentally deficient son. When arguing failed, his father tried locking him in his room, even beating him, but Francis usually wound up going back to the hills and to the caves There can be no doubt that as beautiful as Francis' spiritual ideal became, it caused his family great pain, It is too easy to idealistically side with Francis against his father. There is no evidence that his father was an unjust or cruel man. He lived, supported actively and participated in the life of the Church as he was asked to do by 'church leaders. He would go to the bishop of Assisi personally and ask him to try and persuade Francis to give up this stupidity. What then does Francis do? He strips himself naked right in the middle of the town square and effec-tively disowns his father. He says, "I want absolutely nothing of yours." That scene has often found its illustrators in religious history, the,bishop putting his cloak around Francis to shield his nakedness.Yet think for a moment what Francis' action really said to the family that loved and raised him. Francis shows ,us that the living of a religious ideal can cause great pain among family members. It did in his time and still does in our own day. Francis' ideal ctiallenged more than his family; it. flew in the face of Church law at that time. The total renunciation of possessi0ns,~both indi-vidual and communal, was commonly thought to be "unnatural." Religious orders needed to own communal property, even while the individual members renounced any private possessions. It was natural for religious men and women to possess a basic standard of living and also to be able to do the works of the Church like teaching, helping the poor or missionary endeavors. Francis said "no" to this common assumption. The Gospel of Jesus Christ says, "if you will be perfect, sell all you have, give it to the poor and come follow me." This religious context involved the important fact that in the hundred years before Francis many other movements in the Church had sought to live a type of radical poverty! The Humiliati in Milan, the Albigensians in southern France, The Waldensians in France and Switzerland were just some of the religious groups who aspired to own The Holiness of Saint Francis / 6117 absolutely nothing. ~Practically every one of these movements eventually found themselves opposed to the Church, critical of Church wealth and power, and finally excluded from the body of Christianity. To even breathe the thought of radical poverty in Francis' day raised instant alarm in the leaders of Church and society. Indeed more than a few popes, bishops and cardinals looked suspiciously at this strange individual from Assisi who was beginning to gather some followers. Every.time such an ideal had been started before, it ended up to no good, Francis trod a dangerous and hostile path. To follow his Christian ideal h6 opposed tradition and the common opinion of Church leaders, Several times he came close to having his movement outlawed by Church authorities: In this conflict and suffering Francis exposes another aspect of Christianity sanctity: to pursue the holi-ness of the Gospel is not always a free and easy path even within the Church. Other equally sincere Christians will say this is a bad route to follow. The lived suffering of holiness requires an 'inner courage

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 13.5 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; Review for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1954 Study and the Spiritual Life . John R. Post The World Around Us . John H. Ziegler Pilgrims on theRoad to Love . George Byrne Secular Institutes . Francls N. Korfh Book Reviews Questions and Answers Quinquennial Report VOLUMI~ XIII NUMBER 5 RI::VII::W FOR RI:LI IOUS VOLUME XIII SEPTEMBER, 1954 NUMBER 5 CONTENTS BLENDING STUDY WITH THE SPIRITUAL LIFE--John R. Post, S.d. 225 OUR ADDRESSES . 233 THE WORLD AROUND US--John H. Ziegler, C.S.P . 234 COMMUNICATIONS . 239 FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 240 PILGRIMS ON THE ROAD TO LOVE--George Byrne, S.J .2.4.1 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 244 SECULAR INSTITUTES: SOME QUESTIONS--Francis N. Korth, S.2J.45 PAMPHLETS . , . . . 250 MARIAN YEAR PLAY . 250 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT (By Nonfederated Autonomous Houses and Monhsterles) . 251 REGIONAL CONFERENCES AND WORKSHOPS .2.6.9 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 26. Little Office during Mass . 270 27. Confession without Verbal Act of Contrition . 270 28. Drinking Water before Communion . 271 29. Confession before Communion . 271 30. Communion when Mortal Sin is Doubtful . 272 BOOK REVIEWS-- The N~w Testament; The Church and Infallibility; Mary in Our Life . 273 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 278 NOTICE FOR PUBLISHERS . 280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1954. Vol. XIII, No. 5. Published bi-monthly : January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter ,lannary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. E!lard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Copyright, 1954, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us. please consult notice on Inside back cover. / Blending St:udy wit:h t:he Spiri!:ual Lit:e John R. Post, S.J. MANY young religious who are preparing for the priesthood must spend eigh~ or ten years in the quiet of a seminary be-fore they are confronted with actual work for souls. During that time they look forward with great eagerness to a busy minis-try; but when it comes, it often comes with something of a shock to their interior life. Why is this? The answer seems to be that now for the first time they have had to face up to the age-old problem of blending the active with the contemplative life. A certain amount of shock from this problem is inevitable, as it is in every new ex-perience to be worked out by themselves; but some help can be given them to soften the shock if during their seminary days they are taught to solve another problem, or rather, the same problem on a smaller scale, namely, how to blend the life of study with the spir-itual life. One young student, for instance, finds himself in this frame of mifid: in the morning he offers up to God all his p~ayers, works (studies included), and sufferings, and then is content if during the day he can keep his life of study from interfering with his life of prayer. The most he asks is that study and prayer just keep running in parallel lanes like two runners on a track. Another sees the pursiait of knowledge as a help to perfection, and'so, being a sensible religious, he determines to make the two desires fuse or blend into one organic whole. With him the life of study and the life of prayer, while really distifict, penetrate and help each other just as the soul does the body. T, he second theory will be explained in this article, which, though tailored to suit the'cleric, can, it is hoped, with a tuck and a hem be made to fit the student sister and brother as well. As with the problem of the active ministry, sb too here, the so-lution lies in the interpenetration of motives. In the years of for-mation the young men must learn two things: first, to study their Latin and Greek, their philosophy and theology, with an earnest intention of progressing in the service of God; then, to pray with an ardent desire to advance in the studies in which they are engaged. For, although the time set aside for spiritual duties is generally dis- 225 JOHN R. POST Review for Religious tinct from that given to studies, still the service of God should be made the predominant and actual motive in both. The theory, then, can be summed up in two phrases of St. Ignatius: "Let [scho-lastics] strive to have a right intention in their studies".and. "in their prayers let them frequently beg for the grace of knowl-edge." That is the theory, but some eager student might ask: "How in practice would you go about preparing an assignment in G~:eek or theology and at the same time maintain this right intention? In other words, tell us how each particular branch of our studies can be made.to help our spiritual lives and how our spiritual lives can at the same time help our studies." This is a rather large order, but let me try to fill it. To begin with, then, in practice a man blends his studies with his spiritual life simply by choosing a virtuous intention to keep working in class or at his desk. Seize upon some honest motive or motives from the many that are available, let those motives draw your mind into the heart of the matter and keep it there, and they will turn that hour of class or study into an hour of obedience, of zeal for souls, or of any other virtue. Some motives, it is true, are higher and more meritorious than others; some are more effective in stimulating the desire to learn; but every intention, provided it be virtuous and supernatural, is a "right intention" in the sense in which spiritual writers use the expression. And this leads to the consideration of a most fundamental and essential virtue in the whole life of study--the virtue of studiositas. St. Thomas, who ought to know, defines studiositas, or zeal for knowledge, as a moral virtue which stimulates and controls a man's curiosity. According to him a student, to be a student at all, must be curious. He must come to his books hungry to learn, with a hun-dred questions in his mind begging to be answered. "How did Cicero and St. 3erome express a concessive clause in Latin? What is that slight difference in meaning between quarnquarn and quarnois? I wonder how this particular clause in English would look dressed up in perfect Latin idiom." And so on and so on. These are the questions real students of Latin ask themselves, ask their books and the teachers because they want to know. It is studiositas, then, that makes the life of sudy. Other higher and more supernatural motives may be used to elevate this virtue, but none can take its place. No one can be a student without it. St. Thomas Aquinas, who was 226 September, 1954 STUDY AND SPIRITUAL LIFE both saint and scholar, prayed God to keep this natural curiosity of his ever alive. "Grant, I beseech Thee, O merciful God, that I may ardently desire, prudently inquire, .truthfully understand and per-fectly fulfill what is pleasing to Thee." These last words of the saint give us a glimpse into his inner life and show us how he blended his life of studies with his spiritual life. "May I ardently desire . . . what is pleasing to Thee." Thomas Aquinas, prince and patron of all students, was first of all as curi-ous as ever a man could be, curious about Aristotle and Cicero, about the nature of man and the world about him. And he never lost his curiosity. His Summa Tbeotogica alone contains some 4,000 questions. Yet, his natural love for knowledge was con-trolled and intensified, not lessened, by his love for the will of God declared to him by his superiors. "May I ardently desire . . . what is pleasing to Thee," he says. Besides the motive of stddiositas, therefore, two other motives attracted him to his studies, the motives of obedience and 'of charity. He was curious first because he natu-rally loved the truth which he found in a book of Aristotle; and he became more curious because he knew that God wanted him to study this book of Aristotle; and most curious because he knew that he would please God by studying Aristotle. By these means, then, his study became triply fascinating to St. Thomas. Two high motives drawn from his spiritual life combined with a natural motive and all three blending together drew his mind to the study of one and the same work. So, the blending of which we speak is the blending of a supernatural desire, or desires, with the natural desire of studiositas. The motives of obedience and charity, which we have just toudhed upon, are, I suppose, the easiest for the average religious to manage throughout his course and at the same time the most meri-torious. Another which can blend with all branches of his study is the motive for zeal for souls. In all the studies which the Church has arranged with admirable foresight and wisdom, there is a verti-cal intention which looks up from the different subjects to be studied, rising step by step from the elements of Latin and Greek grammar right up to theology, and based on the following chain of reasoning: the better prepared I am in the,lower subjects, the better grasp will I also have of sacred doctrine and so be the better equipped to preach the word of God to others. This is one way of looking at the course and drawing from the apostolate at the top a greater attraction for all the studies which lead up to it. But, even on the lower levels-- 227 JOHN R. POST Ret~iew /'or Religious that is to say," while one is studying Latin and Greek and philosophy --there is room for a horizontal intention of putting this very matter to good use for souls. I mean the apostolate of the class-room. In teaching orders especially, in which a large percentage of each province is engaged in the work of education, superiors and students alike are forced to think of their houses of study as normal schools and of the time of studies as a period of training for future teachers and professors. The novice who is studying the different uses of the Greek dative should remind himself that he may be teaching that very same lesson one day in any one of the order's schools. Students of the humanities and of philosophy will be given greater motivation if they are told from time to time how many of their religious brethren are teaching those subjects in the colleges. Theologians know that every priest is teaching theology in one way or another, either in the classroom, or in the pulpit or in the confessional. Thus, the teaching vocation provides a specia! in-centive for applying oneself with greater vigor to that part of the course in which one is now engaged. At this point I would like to pause and answer a question that must be bothering the reader as all these different motives (and we haven't come to the end of them yet) are being passed in review be-fore him. The quesion might be phrased as follows: How is it pos-sible to keep all these motives in mind at once? To increase in knowledge, to obey God, to please God, to teach others--how can one manage them psychologically? The answer is that is one is not obliged to use them all. To blend a life of study with the spiritual life, only two are required, the motive of studiositas and one other. But, if. others are used, only that of studiositas is to be kept in the front of the mind, while the others are lined up behind it as ulterior motives--just as in arranging a hand of cards you keep only one in the foreground in full view while all the others are held behind it peeking out a little over the edge. Does that mean that God will have to "take a back seat" to ablative absolutes or ens ut sic? Yes, at least while one is studying ablative absolutes or ens ut sic. Or, to put it another way, God Himself tells you to study and.by so doing He "takes a back seat" for Himself, always continuing, however, to occupy the first place in your heart. Study of the Humanities The study of the humanities presents its own peculiar motive to the religious who is engaged in it, a motive which, if employed with 228 September, 1954 STUDY ~.ND SPIRITUAL LIFE care and discretion, can give to his spiritual life a greater depth and breadth than it ever bad before. This motive is found in the word humanitas, for, as I see it, the purpose .of all classical studies in Latin, Greek, and English is to increase and intensify ar sense of kin-ship between the student and all the other members of the human family. Thus, with his symiJathetic understanding broadened and deepened and his sensibilities more refined, he can more easily respond to motives of faith which teach him to love all men in Christ and for Christ. As is~ clear from looking at ourselves, not all men are saints. The exercises of the novitiate may lead religious to expect too much of their fellow men. From reading the, lives of the saints and the ways of reaching sanctity they can acquire a partial, not a total view of life. Spiritual theology is likely to idealize and adorn too much. Philosophy, on the other hand, strips life of its warmth and color. History and literature, correcting the other two views, show us human beings as they are. They show us man as the "noble, lawless savage" that Newman speaks of, "whose morals find interests are disfigured and perverted by all the imperfections of passion, 'folly and ambition." So, we must not expect from litera-ture any more than it in'tends to teach us, or any more than we can reasonably expect to find in nature itself, whose mirror it aims to be, and certainly we must not expect to find in it a guide to (he highest sanctity. We have that in Christ and in the Church. "It is the business of art and literature," as Fleckner says, "not to save men's souls, but to make them more worth the saving." The most literature intends to teach us, then, is that human nature with all its faults is very lovable in itself. Then, after viewing its faults through the medium of literature, we ourselves can reason to the great need nature always had, and still has, for the redeeming grace of Jesus Christ. Outside the monastery walls, for instance, it is a very human thing for a young man to fail in love. Men are like that. And so Shakespeare enters into the heart of one of them and gives us his Romeo in all the pangs of love-sickness, saying: "See how she leans her cheek upon that hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That l might touch that cbeek t."" That hand, he says, and that cheek, as if there were no others in 229 JOHN R. POST Review [or Religious the world. But, there are no others for Romeo. Isn't that ~he way lovers act? Isn't it human for young men to "moon" that way. Shakespeare has caught this universal trait, loved it, and invited us to love it too. It is also very human for men who have done great things for their country to take compl~acency in it, and so we sense something of our own humanity in every speech of Cicero as he struts across the floor of the Senate letting men know how lucky they are to have him as consul. Yet, boastful as Cicero is, his love for his friends and his family, his loyalty to Rome and hatred for all corruption give us an example of a very noble Roman. Achilles, the greatest warrior of them all, pouts in his tent before the walls of Troy when his prize is taken from him. Antigone has become for all time the personification of sisterly affection, just as Hecuba has of aged grief, and Aeneas of filial piety. Now, the Church thinks that it .will be good for the future priests to realize how many different kinds of souls it takes to make up the human race, and to know them and love them for what they are. We know from faith that they are lovable for a higher reason, but lit-erature teaches us that they are also lovable for the basic humanity that is in them, that image of God, warped and twisted by human passion in a way that is so much like our own. So, the special pur-pose put before the student of literature, and the one he should grasp and blend with the others, may be summed up in one phrase-- to love human beings. Motioes for Studying Philosophy The subject of philosophy, too, is not without its intrinsic motives which can be made to blend with the spiritual life. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," says Hamlet: but, we might add, not many more. For philosophy is the study of all things knowable according to their ultimate causes. The matter of philosophy, therefore, in-cludes the world, the nature of man, and even the very being of God, as far as these things can be known by the light of reason. In natural theology, for instance, students are taught to prove the. ex-istence of God and His attributes, and how all things come from Him by creation, are kept in existence by His conservation and con-' currence, and finally have Him for their ultimate purpose. In this whole field no religious who has ever made the Spiritual Exercises can fail to see the very subject matter of the Foundation and the Contemplation to Obtain Divine Love. Moreover, the laws of 230 September, 1954 STUDY AND SPIRITUAL LIFE thought which God has implanted in our intellect, and the laws of conduct in our will, the nature 6f the human soul, its origin and its destiny are treated of in logic, ethics, and psychology. That such knowledge can, and should be, of immense profit to a religious in acquiring a more intimate knowledge of himself goes without saying. But, apart from this bearing of philosophy on his own personal life, it is in this branch of his studies that the student is forging some of his strongest weapons for his future apostolate. It is agreed, I think, by Catholic apologists that the most dangerous at-tacks on the faith today come .from ~hilosophical quarters, and hence they must be met with philosophical weapons. The Church is assailed by the false doctrines of Communism, of the rights of the state in education; she has to meet the ~rguments of those who would justify birth control and so-called mercy killing: she has to be able to give the answers to so many who question her about the very existenc~ of God and the immortality of the soul. And all of these questions have their answers--solid, reasonable answers-- in Scholastic. philosophy. Knowing this, then, a young religious would be foolish and failing in his duty if he did not study his phi-losophy with the idea of defending the Church in this all-important field. Motives For Studgin9 Theologg It takes little effort to understand how the study of theology, which is the science of God, can have a stimulating effect on the spiritual life of a theologian. The reason is that the subject matter of theology is exactly the same as the matter of our prayer and the interior life. All that God has revealed about Himself and about His plans for the sanctification of the world, all that one needs to know, and more than one needs to know, by way of credenda and agenda, to make one a saint is presented to us over a period of four years in lectures and books, arranged according to the most scientific system of thought yet devised. Treatises on the Unity and Trinity of God; treatises on God as Creator and Redeemer; treatises on the Incarnate God, Jesus Christ, and the mysteries of His life; a treatise on the Blessed Mother of God: treatises on God's ways of drawing men to Himself by means of grace and the sacraments; the Church of God and the four last things; the laws of God and of the Church --- each and every one of these subjects speaks to us of God . . . God ¯ . . God. Theology is the science of God. We must not conclude, however, that classes in theology are 231 30HN R. POST Reoiew ~or Religious meant to be spiritual exhortations. Thgy are not. Moreover, some of the theses may seem as lacking in warmth as mathematics: but like mathematids, they are necessary to show the strength and logic of the system. The hnowledye of God, then, not the love of Him, is the immediate object of theology--clear, solid, profound knowledge based on divine revelation. But since knowledge prepares for love, one's knowledge of God cannot help but prepare his soul for acts of the theological virtues of faith, hope, and ch;irity, not only during the times of formal prayer, but also during class as one listens to professors expounding the sacred doctrine and in one's roo~m when one can delve into the depths of Sdripture and tradition for oneself. That is why St. Augusti.ne likens the students of the-ology to the contemplative Mary who sat at the feet of desus listen-ing to His words. "Let them choose for themselves the better part," he says, "which shall not be taken from them, and let them give themselves up to the word, drink in eagerly the sweetness of doc-trine, and be taken up with the science of salvation." One of the aims of this article has, I hope, been achieved. It was to explain how in practice the life of studies can be made to help the spiritual life throughout the course. To this end some of the super-natural mo'tives or desires which can be blended with the natural desire of studiositas have been developed in detail. And doubtless there are others. One can, for instance, find great inspiration in studying out of gratitude to his own order, or out of reparation to the Sacred Heart. This last becomes especially valuable when the studies appear to be difficult or dull. But, those intentions we have discussed show at least how one can go about supernaturalizing his study habits right from the beginning of the course. Using the motives of studiositas, obedience, charity, and zeal for souls, ,which are common to every branch of knowledge, a student can also apply himself to the humanities because he wants to deepen his love for his fellow man, to philosophy to help him d~efend the Church, and to the61ogy because he wants to increase his faith, hope, and love of God. Entering upon his studies with any or all of these motives the young levite will turn his hours of class and study into exercises of the spiritual life and win great merit for himself, the merit of these lofty virtues. Nothing remains now but the easy task of pointing out how a young man's life of prayer can be made to help his life of study. In a perfect blending of the two it is clear that each must contribute 232 September, 1954 STUDY AND SPIRITUAL LIFE something to the other; and if, by means of the lot:ty mqtives we have just described, one's study-life has been turned into an instru-ment of the highest virtue, does it not seem just that in times of prayer a religious should make some return and beg of God the grace of making greater progress in his studies? He knows that grace is necessary for every supernatural work, and the more supernatural, it is, the more grace is needed. As he tries, therefore, to manage the higher motives in his study, it becomes increasingly clear that, al, though'we apply ourselves to the lesson in Greek or philosophy, still it is God who must give the increase. Moreover, when we plead with God to increase our spirit of curiosity or to give us a more re-tentive memory, we are asking Him only for what He Himself de-sires. St. John Damascene defines prayer as "the petition of fitting things from God." What can be more fitting, or more in accordance with God's will, than th~it a student, should make progress in his studies? If God asks every religious in his years of formation to strive seriously and eonstantly to acquire a mastery of his subject, surely He cannot take it amiss or accuse us of bringing in distractions if we beg Him now and then in our colloquies to assist us in carry-ing out" His own will, especially if the fulfillment of His will re-dounds so much to the defense of the t:aith, the spread of Catholi~ education, and the sanctification of .our own souls. This was done byi.St. Thomas, as we have seen. One's examination of conscience, toO, can be made to serve the cause of study by keeping a careful watch over one's motives and nourishing the solid habits of indus-try, ~bedience, and the others. And thus it will come about that by." a sort of interpenetration our studies will help our prayer and our prayer will help our studies, and both, thus joined toge~her, will bring ~:orth much fruit--in the spirit of the saints--to the greater glory of God. OUR ADDRESSES We have three different addresses. It would~ help considerably if all who com-municate with us would note them: 1. Bdsiness communications, sfich" as subscriptions, renewals, etc., should be sent to: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison St., Topeka, Kansas. 2. Books 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 manuscripts, questions, letters for\publication, etc., should be sent to: The Editors, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS" St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 233' The World Around Us John H. Ziegler, C.S.P. THE families and friends of religious continually have to make lightning-like mental adjustments when conversing with Father Luke, Brother Bede, or Sister Mary Francis. Blithely we speak of a joke heard in the "common room," of having to at- ~end."particular examen," or of being assigned a new "obedience" next week--all terms capable of various interpretations besides the consecrated meanings we have attached to them. Most mysterious of all, however, must be our use of "the .world." When heard for the first time from young, red-cheeked Frater Paul, a statement like "I used to play left end for Catholic CentraE but that was before I left the world," could give some unititiated layman the eerie sensa-tion of being in the presence of a departed soul--appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. Occasionally too we are guilty of downright equivocation when referring to "the world," thereby indreasing our chances of being misunderstood. In one sense we left the world as soon as we" begin to live in a religious house, free from such worldly ways as catching [he 8:20 bus to work every' mornin'g and saving to buy a spring hat br a new pair of shoes. That world, however, is not in itself the world which hates Christ nor that which the spiritual writers un-animously warn us to shun under pain of losing our souls. "Our parents, to whom above all others under God we owe our vocations, live or lived in that world, along with countless other lay Catholics whose solid goodness we dare not question. In another sense, of course, there is "the world" which we as well as all Christians mdst renounce, the world which is its own idol, the world which makes of pleasure, power, and wealth the supreme goals of living. This world the religious not only leaves, but in doing so burns his bridges behind him so to speak by ceding to God his legitimate" rights tb use what the worldlings abuse. Hence it is always dangerous and some- ~:imes sinful to return to this seductive world even in our thotights and imaginings. But to dwell occasionally upon the present condi-tion of other men and women living in that world of cares and iinxieties from which mercifully we are sheltered can be very profit-able. Never to do so 'may even be to risk emotional immaturity,, a 234 THE WORLD AROUND US serious if not fatal flaw in a religious. For, although at first it sounds shocking, we can indeed learn much from the world. For example, our self-complacency shatters into a million pieces at the thought of how many good, prayerful, mortified people there are who have no title but Miss, Mr., or Mrs. At five in the morning the jangling of a lone alarm clock strikes the ear no more pleasant!y than the clanging of a bell or a throaty "Benedicamus Domino." Yet there are lay Catholics who rise at such an hour, say morning prayers, and set out for Mass in the nearest church. Perhaps they have had a full-night's sleep, perhaps they have been up and down half a dozen times with a restless child or a sick husband or wife. Others, particularly young women who work in offices, attend a noonday Mass during their lunch hour and receive Holy Commun-ion- which meant before the new Eucharistic fast regulations that they had been pounding a typewriter for three or four hours without so much as a sip of water. Man.y say their rosary daily; some steady old breadwinners have spent a few minutes before the Blessed Sac- .rament on their way home from work every day for years. These are by no means all the Catholics living in the world, not even the majority; but the point is that these few pray and sacrifice regularly or~ their own, without our schedule and rule, without the support and good example of our religious brethren, without, yes, the leisure time for prayer afforded us by our state of life. In the parable it was the servant who received only one talent and buried it unprofitably who was so severely reprimanded and punished. We shtidder.to think how severe would ~ave been the condemnation of the servant who received five talents if he had not made good use of them ! Paradoxically, it may also help us to be better religious to recall at times how many bad people there are in the world, crude, cruel, sensual, selfish people whom we seldom meet even in our apostolic contacts. How trifling the annoying faults of our confreres seem beside the gross wickedness of many who pass as respectable in the wgrld. Day in and day out, for instance, fine Catholic men and w,gmen must shut their ears against the flood of foul talk,~which sv~.irls around.workbenches and desks in, the,places they-~are~employed a demorali.zin.g source~ of temptation vce are spared. They must e~i~rn a living.ami~o fierce and often, unethical competition where it is every man for himself. Admittedly that blustering member c~f the. local community who somehow irritates us may not yet have at- 235 JOHN I-~. ZIEGLER Reolew [or Religious tained the highest reaches of humility and charity, but in 6ur .heart we can always be sure that 'if we w~r'e hungry, or sick, or in distress of any kind, he or she would be among the first to come to our aid no matter what the cost. :"' Speaking of per~gnality clashes and apparent lncompat~blhty agwe l~tbel it today, it would be enormously na'ive to suppose that these are restricted to convents and monasteries. Most religious had the good fortune to grow up in homes where father and mother settled their differences amicably and pulled together. Unfortun-ately this is not a universal pattern. The eloquent instruction be-fore marriage used in this country reminds the couple that "the fu,~ ture, with its hopes and disappoint .m. ents, its successes and its fail'- U~es, ii~s pleasures and its pains, its joys and its sorrows" is hidden from their eyes.' Often enough that" future soon reveals itself to be ¯ a bitter disappointment when one or the other partner under the stress of married and family life sho, ws up as a spiteful, unbending, irresponsible person.,. The ea~.y arid 15o, pular way out leads to a divorce court. But eyery parish priest knows of more than one case of sheer heroism on the part of a husband or wife who for years has ~t~d up under this cross rather than renege on a sacred promise and break up a home. So when we find the company of Father Glum oi Sister Garrhlous especially trying, our supernatural charity towards them will be no less meritorious and may even be more effective if we realize that since the fall of Adam human relations have been'an ifi-escapable problem for everybody. Enlarging our horizons and having a world vision can:in many. ways be a tonic to our sometimes sluggish spiritual lives. It is, we must never forget, our world since by .entering the common life we do not and in fact cannot resign from membership in the human race[ Moreover, our apostolic vocation compels us to see in every sinner a potential saint, and without indulging in the dubious esti-mate Of our age as the most wicked in history, we can safely say that objectively at least innumerable mortal sins are being committed. How puny and cowardly do our sacrifices appear against such a backdrop! Listlessly we dally over hundreds of opportunities to merit graces for the spiritually underprivileged while whole nations fall away from God. While Rome burns--thank God, not yet literally--we fritter away our time in the careless performance of our duties of state. Psychologists, say a well-adjusted person must be orientated; he must realize the circumstances of time and place 236 ' September, 1954 THE WORLD AROUND US and people in which he as an individual moves. Spiritual orientation --realizing our vital position in the Mystical Body--is even more necessary, particularly for the .religious assigned by obedience to work that naturally speaking is unattractive and unrewarding. Only when he or she fully appreciates the far-reaching; world-wide conse-quences of any task well done out of love for God can there be achieved that inner contentment and peaceful adjustment to the de-tails of daily life which should characterize every servant of God. A wilfully discontented religious is something of an "Indian giver," since it must be presumed that we knew at least confusedly what we were promising when we gave ourselves to God. Only the wilfully discontented, however, can be blamed, because everyone is apt to feel discontented now and then. Here, too, in these 6ccasional periods of dissatisfaction, turning to the stark reality of the outside World can do wonders for our morale. Imagine us standing before a group of young Catholic mothers and fathers of not poor but moderate circumstances and telling them with a straight face our most recent cause for dissatisfaction: that Sister Fortunata was deemed worthy of a new habit while we were told to put up with our patched one for awhile, or that Father Procurator's fondness for ginger snaps has led him to buy another case of them with the result that the whole comm.unity will be munching on the tasteless things for some weeks to come. While being somewhat amused and per-haps a bit surprised to find such utterly human reactions beneath the religious garb, these Catholic couples could very well give us an en-lightening five-minute lecture on how much it costs to house, clothe, and feed a growing family today, presenting as evidence a handful of unpaid bills. For all its inconveniences and privations. our poverty is at least secure. Their support depends on a monthly pay check which an extraordinary expense like illness can shrink to almost nothing. And then there are always the really poor whose existence, if we are not privileged t!o work among them, we may tend to forget. If we are stationed in a large city, the chances are that less than' a mile or two from our front door there are slums, the decrepitude and squalor of which would send us hurrying back gratefully to our neat little convents. There is little disagreement that over the course of a lifetime the~ most painful sacrifices~made by a religious: stem: from~ obedience. As the venerable Trappist~ lay brother is supposed to have admitted: 'Tve gotten used to almost everything but doing what I'm told." 237 JOHN H, ZIEGLER Reoiew for Religious Again it would be unrealistic to forget that not only religious have superiors. One thing that can be affirmed of our superiors is that however imprudent at times we may think their commands--how seldom all the facts warrant this opinion--their designs are moti-vated by a sincere desire for the good of the community and each of its members. Some of the most embittered persons one can meet in the world are those whose careers were blighted by an unscrupulous executive"s passing over their genuine ability and service to give the nod to some less worthy but conniving crony. The religious who harbors the suspicion that s.uperiors lie awake after night prayers de-vising ways to make him miserable is rapidly becoming pathological, both mentally and spiritually. Our rules and constitutions, or more often customs, sometimes reach a directing or restraining finger into nearly every department of life. But with admirable self-control in view of their past experience with red tape and army regulations, veterans of military service calmly assure us that we have no mon-opoly on minutiae. A West Point graduate confessed that, after the discipline of the Point, the externals of novitiate training did not seem overly difficult. Considerations such as these are not based upon a vision of re-ligious men and women, faithful to their obligations, but for the most part unhappy and disgruntled, dragging their way through life like dreary prisoners. Not at all! But is it unfair and untrue to concede that sooner or later into the life of even the most fervent among us there slink the twin devils of discouragement and self-pity? When they come, bent upon upsetting our spiritual equili-brium, should we not have some natural defense at hand as well as sound supernatural principles? All of creation is at our disposal to use in attaining our eternal destiny. Why not turn the contempo-rary world with its crosses and problems and temptations into a re-minder that the yoke we bear and the burden we shoulder are not altogether unique? ' And yet in one way they are unique. Because we are cross-- bearers not only by necessity as all men are, not only by Christian resignation as most good layfolk are, but by choice, as are all those who voluntarily follow the counsels. In return we above all others have Christ's promise of a hundredfold and life everlasting. This hundredfold we can spoil for ourselves if, too intent upon our own little world, we see our daily sacrifices magnified out of all propor-tion to what they really are. And even our store of eternal merit 238 September, 1954 COMMUNICATIONS can be decreased if, without a world-wide vision of the urgent needs of this hour, we fail to realize how much more we could help if we tried. Com rn un ica!:ions Reverend Fathers: This communication was prompted by Father Gallen's excellent article in the May issue of the REVIEW, "Pray Reasonably." He men-tions common difficulties in retreats for religious women, many of which, I feel, d~pend upon the methods of the retreat master. Often the presentation of points for n~editation loses its essential character through excessive length. Souls wearied by prolonged oratory are deprived of both the leisure and the inclination for fur-ther lengthy reflection. If these points are to retain their purpose of preparation for mental prayer, twenty minutes or half an hour would not seem to be an unreasonable limit, with the explicit in-junction that the retreatants continue the meditation themselves, al-though not necessarily remaining in the chapel to do so. A novel and perhaps very fruitful method of presenting the points would be that of the retreat master "meditating aloud" with brief pauses for the individual to add her own affections, even perhaps with both retreat master and retreatants kneeling. The additional time provided by this shortening of the points might be profitably used in individual contact with souls in the con-fessional. Many sisters do not have an opportunity for spiritual direction during the year and wish to seek advice during the annual retreat. If the hearing of confessions is delayed until the last few days of the retreat, or if the period allotted each day is very limited, the brevity which consideration for others demands makes it difficult to obtain adequate counsel. :~ I am sure that many would benefit by a series of articles on the subject of the retreat in the REVIEW, similar to the excellent treat-ment of spiritual direction a few years ago. Undoubtedly both re-treat masters and retreatants could share many suggestions in this way.--A SISTER. 239 lZor Your/n[orma!:ion Our Proiects In our March, 1954, number (p. 61) we suggested a "project" in the form of pooling ideas as to what it takes to be a good superior. We fiave received some response (even though rather meager) to this suggestion, but we have not yet had time to organize the material. We hope to have it ready for the November number. Also in the March number (p. 62) we suggested an "American Founders' Series." The response to this has also been meager; but the first article of what ,may (or may not) be a series will appear in November. Pharmacists' Guilds It is no easy thing today for the Catholic pharmacist to live up to the moral principles and ideals taught by the Church. One help-ful means of doing this is mutual cooperation in the form of phar-macists' guilds. One such guild is The Druggists' Guild of St. dames, of the Diocese of Covington, Kentucky. This guild has published a pamphlet entitled Our Faith in Pharrnac~j, which explains the moral principles and ideals, tells how to organize a guild, and gives a model of an appropriate constitution and by-laws. The ~0rice of the pam-phlet is twenty-five cents. It can be obtained from: The Druggists' Guild of St. James, 109 W. 6th St., Covington, Ky. Trapplsfs Leave New Mexico" The Trappist community of Our Lady of Guadalupe Abbey, Pecos, New Mexico is soon to be moved to a new site in Oregon. Their New Mexico property is now for sale. It is considered suitable for a convalescent home or some such purpose for any religious group not dependent on natural resources for its support. An illus-trated brochure with pertinent information may be had by writing the Father Abbot, Right Reverend M. Columban 'Hawkins, o.c.s.o., Guadalupe Abbey, Pecos,.New Mexico. 240 Pilgrims on !:he Road t:o Love George Byrne, S,J. THE strangest answer ever given to a questioner was given by Christ to Nicodemus. A doctor of the Law, he had been im-pressed by this "Rabbi, who came a teacher from God." From him, if from anyone, he could learn the ideal of life. What on earth did Christ's answer mean? "A man must be~ born again of water and the Holy Ghost." If there had been question only of some reno-vation by water, he might have understood. John the Baptist's work was not so enigmatic. But to be "born of the Spirit,". and so "to be spirit," entering on a new life unlike the "birth of the flesh," was something unheard of in the schools where the "masters in Israel" taught. Frankly, he did not understand. He was familiar~ with the book of Deuteronomy. He l~new its precept to love God with the whole heart, with the whole strength. But he did not know the meaning of real love; the love which "whether prophecies shall be made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be'destroyed, never falleth away." This love bad nothing of earth in it; his mind had not yet been opened to "heav-enly things." He fancied that he loved, and with him we all so fancy; but our love is a love of desire, a yearning of the heart to clasp for self something that will enrich us. When personal gain disal~- pears, the "love" vanishes. It is still more fickle when faced with the cost of suffering. It was not love, pure love. Shakespeare merely repeats St. Paul: "Love is not love, which alters when it alteration finds." Pure love is uncaused. It is of heaven; it is heaven, fo~ "God is Love." A complete birth of the spirit is needed to secure it: "Create a dean heart in me, 0 God." Nicodemus must realize how "God so loved the wi~rld as to give His only begotten Son." Nico-demus, with his fellow Jews, practiced an observance calculated to hasten the "restoration of Israel." Self was the kernel of apparent fidelity. The Apostles, too, gave that they might get: "Wilt Thou at this time restore again the kingdom of Israel?" Their feet were not firmly set, as pilgrims, on the road to love--pure love, God's love. For three years the Master had been pointing the way; but their "hearts were slow to believe." About to leave them, He de-clared: "I have yet many things to say to you: but you cannot bear 241 GEORGE BYRNE Reuieto ~:or Religious them now." They had to be "born agai'n" of the Holy Spirit; He "would teach them all truth." He would do more. He would come; He would abide with them. They would not remain "or-phans." They were to find their 'way to the school of love. Born of God, they would love; and, loving with the real love, they would know Him. Before Pentecost the Apostles remained behind closed doors for fear of the Jews. After Pentecost they were "wit-nesses of the Holy Ghost." They bad been born again to the true love of God. Now. they wanted to give that they "might be chil-dren of their Father in heaven": "They went from the pr~esence of the council, rejoicing that they were accounted worthy to suffer re-proach for the name of Jesus." "To GIVE AND NOT TO COUNT THE COST" We saw in a previous article (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XIII [July, 1954], 211) that, though all of us would resent' being told that we are inc.apable of love, we should be read9 enough to demur about the epithet. "holy." Even though we might count ourselves among the class of "good religious," there would be a lurking feeling that "holy" is reserved for the "saints." We rather think of it as applicable to some rare supermen, who have shaken the world's dust from their feet and have reached a No-Ordinary-Man's Land, through an asceticism, and a still more esoteric mysticism, beyond our range. A fundamental mistake, since "holiness" and "'real love" are identified: "He who loveth is born of God." St. John, who bad pondered over Christ's reply to Nicodemus, at last under-stood it fully at Pentecost. When he began to write his Epistle, he had "been born again" and had come to "know God" with the knowledge that "is eternal life: that they may know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent." The truth is easily stated. In practice, however, it seems one of those easy lessons hard to learn. John could speak of that "which we have heard, which we have seen with our ~yes . and our hands hav~ handled, of the word of life." St. Peter would strengthen our faith in its trial with the words, "Whom having not seen, you love." We remain doubtful: "how, where, and when have we shown this love? The Master Himself has removed all uncertainty: "Lord, when did we see Thee hungry . . . ? Amen, I say to you, as long as you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to me." The test of love is generosity; the test of pure love is unselfish generosity: "to give, and not to count the cost . . . to labor and not 242 September, 1954 PILGRIMS ON THE ROAD TO LOVt~ to seek reward": "Do good, and lend, hoping for nothing thereby: ¯ . . and you shall be the sons of the Highest." The "rich man" may well, like the Pharisee, have pridec] himself on his religion of temple service and Law, observance; growth in holiness he neglected. Lazarus, at his gate, offered him an oppor- ¯ -tunity. of growing in love by compassion. He neglected it; he was buried in hell, where all the loveless go! St. Francis de Sales has been called the saint of love: his pen distilled the word; his actions breathed it. His friends asked him the way to holiness. "You must love God with all your heart; and your neighbor as yourself," he.answered. "Yes," they said, "we know all that; but bow is one to do it?" To their insistence he replied: "Methods and systems I have.n't, got. You learn to love by loving; as you learn to speak by spe~iking, to run by running. ¯ . . Begin as a mefe~pprentice, and the very power of love will lead you on to become master of the art." " St. 'Paul, certainI~ a fire-eater, "breathing out threatenings and slaughter aga~nst~the d~sc~ple~of the Lord," d~d sit down as an ap-prentice to learn. He mastered th~ lesson and left it as an heirloom for us in his beautiful "Song of Love." If we would be "holy," we could do no better than constantly sing to ourselves this song, and let its melody harmonize with all we think about or do to oust. fellowmen. Let us begin the apprenticeship at home before looking for arctic regions to whrm with rays of our kindliness. This was the "little way" of Thgr~se of Lisieux. ~She daily tended, in her own little garden, roses whose perfume spread far and wide. Let us take St. Paul's Song of Love, and place in an opposite column the growl of selfishness. CHARITY is patient . . . is kind: on the look-out to help . . . envieth not: encourages, praises . . . dealeth not perversely . . . is not puffed up . . . is not ambitious . . . seeketh'not her own . . . .SELFISHNESS is impatient: "I can't stand thls"; "give it to me now" . . . is intolerant, bored: keeps what it has; looks for more . . . is jealous: criticizes, condemns to ap-pear bigger . . . loves to "hit back," to "take dowa that fellow's prideV' . . . lets others know what it has done; thrives on flattery . . . is full of its own importance; expects due reqognition . . . insists on its rights; "number one" is never second . . . 243 GEORGE BYRNE CHARITY is not provoked to anger . rejoiceth not in iniquity, but . . . with the truth . . . SELFISHNr:SS is touchy: flares up at a word or an act . . . admires the crafty; is afraid of sin-cerity . . . beareth all things . . . believeth all things . . . hopeth all things . . . endureth all things, . never falleth away. complains of each pin-prick . . . is suspicious, on its guard . . . is cynical: throws cold water . . . has little staying power when sacrifice is needed: is fickle. As religious, we make an examination of conscience at least once, peihaps twice a day. A mere inventory of so many duties well done, poorly done, or forgotten, does not carry us very far on the way to real improvement. The point to be stressed is not the work done, but the motive, the spirit, animating it. Our divine Master made this clear in commendin~g Mary Magdalen: "Many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much." If instead of "Charity" w~ read in the first column, "Jesus," we see how true it is: "Jesus is patient, is kind, beareth all things, etc." Then try our own name: "John, Mary, etc." We soon see how little we fit into the "Char-ity" column; on the contrary, how much we are at home in the selfishness parade. Having made the discovery, let us look forward to possible op-portunities during the next hour, this morning, or this afternoon, of being "patient, kind, enduring," and the rest: let us resolve to profit by some of them. It is thus. that we "learn to love b,y loving." It is thus that we really start as pilgrims on the road to love and find to our surprise that we have more in common with the Heart of Love, the Sacred Heart, than we imagined. Holiness, wl~ich is growth in love, is not an empty dream. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOHN R. POST is master of novices at the Jesuit novitiate, Shadowbrook, at Lenox, Massachusetts. JOHN H. ZIEGLER is doing graduate studies at the Catholic University of America. GEORGE BYRNE is professor of ascetical theology at Mill-town Park, Dublin, Ireland. FRANCIS N. KORTH is a member of our editorial. board. 244 'i Secular Ins!:d:u!:es: Some ( ues!:ions Francis N. Korth, S.J. IN A PREVIOUS ISSUE of this REVIEW (XIII [1954], 108)~, I referred to a number of interesting points about secular insti-tutes, many of which came up during the discussions of the ruary, 1954, Chicago meeting dealing with secular institutes. At the time I mentioned that I hoped to present these points in a future article, possibly in question-and-answer form. This is'the redemp-tion of that promise. The items are more or less iso'lated points. They are being presented with a view to filling out to some extent the general picture of what a secular institute is. It is hoped they will fulfill the purpose for which they are intended. I. Must applicants necessarily go to a distant city where a house of the secular institute is located? Personal acquaintance of the applicant should be had by the adviser who acts for the secular institute. This usually means a trip on someone's part. Later ori some other provision for the training of successful can~lidates closer to their home might possibly be worked out, especially if there are several such candidates living in about the same vicinity. However, that solution would depend upon a number of circumstances: sometimes it might be possible, other times it would be impossible. It would be better not to count upon it but rather to more or less plan on going for the necessary training.to the place where the house of the secular institute is lo-cated, at least for some period of time. 2. Is it adoisable to admit ex-religious as candidates to a secular institute? At least at the beginning of a new secular institute it would seem to be advisable not to take in too many ex-religious, since they already have undergone a systematic training different from that proper to candidates for a secular institute. That previous training might binder the development of the true spirit of a budding secular institute. 3. Are middle-aged people likely candidates for a'dmittance to secular institutes? 245 " FRANCIS N. KORTH Review for Religious M.any otherwise good people of that age group might not have all the?necessary q~J'alifications.for .such a vocation. One of these would be the proper age requirement for admittance to a specified institute. Hence one who is channeling possible vocations to dif-ferent secular institutes should make himself acquainted with the age requirements of the various groups. 4. Are widows acceptable as candidates for a secular institute? Widows can be admitted, unless the individual constitutions forbid it. If the widow has children, that might make a difference. Depending upon circumstances, .such applicants might be accepted or might be refused. 5. Would divorced persons be admitted? Under the supposition that the constitutions allow it, if the divorced person is the innocent party, such applicant could be ad-mitted provided there was no scandal: for example, if the identity of the person as a member of the secular institute is kept hidden if that be necessary to avoid scandal, or if the person goes to a place far removed from the locality where he is known. 6. What is the length of the aspirancy and of the novitiate? A six-months' aspirancy seems to be rather common. The period of training which corresponds to the novitiate in religious institutes varies: it is of one- or two-years' duration in some existing institutes. 7. Could the vows or promises made in a secular institute be termed semipublic? Yes, that term has been applied to them at'times since those vows, oaths, consecrations, or promises have a juridical effect. How-ever, all such vows, oaths, consecrations, and promises are, abso-lutely speaking, juridically private and not public; they are not recognized as public by the Church. But to distinguish them from ordinary private vows (which have no juridical effects) those vows have been termed by some commentators as semipublic or social VOWS. 8. What type or courses of studies might be suggested for the intel-lectual formation of members? Courses or lectures in dogmatic theology and in~ some branches of philosophy could be given. Also there is place-for courses in 246 September, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES asceticism. Dependent upon the particular apostolate of an institute, courses in languages, missiology, sociology, and other subjects would be suitable. 9. How much time would be given to prayer? In some institutes about one or two hours daily are required. This includes attendance at Mass, saying the rosary, a ball bout or more of meditation, some spiritual reading, and the like. Because many members are busy during the day earning their livelihood or doing their usual tasks, the suitable time for prayer would be the morning or evening hours. In some institutes the Divine Office (usually only a pari of it) is said privately each day. An annual retreat of five or six days is the regular thing. There might also be a monthly day of recollection. 10. Is any means used for checking on faithfulness to those prayer obligations? One possible means could be a written report on the external ful-fillment of the prayer obligations. However, no data is available on how much, if any, of this is done in practice. I1. What provision is made for the observance of the vow or promise of poverty? When the members are living in a common house and bare goods in common, the matter can be provided for quite easily. This is rarely the case. When the members do not live in a common house, a "budget" method could be used. This budget might be drawn up to cover ordinary expenses, such as light, food, heat, and so on. It might also be extended to include another category, extraordinary ex-penses: necessary or useful expenses that arise only occasionally. In either case, the estimated budget of expenses could be submitted periodically to the superior for approval, perhaps once a year. After- ~vards, at stated intervals the discrepancies between this estimated budget and the real budget, of which a record bad been kept, would be submitted to the superior for approval of the discrepancies. This budget would be individual; it would take into account such facts as the resources or income of the subject and his status in society. If the budget covers only ordinary expenses, then for extraordinary expenses (for example, the purchase of a new coat) permission could be obtained each time from the superior. Or provision might be 247 FRANCIS N. KORTH Review for Religious made to allow the subject to presume permission for the extraordi-nary expense and then report the matter later on. Similarly, in regard to the amount of money to be contributed by each member for the general needs of the institute, an agreement could be made between the institute (superior) and the subject. This might be made on a somewhat permanent basis, or as something to be re-examined and possibly revised periodically, say annually. If the former, then a clause could be added requiring re-examination in case the financial .condition of the subject became notably c.hanged. Again in drawing up this agreement, account is taken of the financial status of the individual. In general, in the matter of poverty a member could try to get along with a little less than other persons in his state of life or social position require. 12. Could a me~ber of a secular institute ~wn and operate a busi-ness? : Owning and operating a business in the name of the institute is forbidden, but it does not seem forbidden for an individual member to own and operate one. 13. Could a member prot)ide.for his parents financially it: the latter were in need? If the parents of a member fell int~ need, it seems that the supe-rior could approve such assistance as a necessary expense. In that case, however, the institute itself would not support the parents of the member, but it,would permit the member to support them. 14. Do members of secular institutes mal~e a will? Yes, a will or last testament is made before profess)on. 15. What about dealing with the opposite sex? Aside from professional or other necessary contact, it would seem that steady or regular contact with members of the opposite sex is to be avoided. This would also extend to correspondence. In the matter of dancing, members could sponsor or chaperon dances, but they .would not themselves dance with persons of the opposite sex. However, it is possible that such provisions might vary some-what in different institutes. . 16. Is it permissible fgr members to attend movies? to use cos-metics? to smoke? to go swimming? , 248 September, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES In these matters, there very likely might be divergent practices among various institutes. According to one report it is all right for the members to attend movies for recreational purposes if the pic-tures are good; moderate use of cosmetics is allowed; no mention is made for or against smoking; swimming is permissible. The deci-sion as to what is permissible or not in these and similar matters might depend to a considerable extent upon the customs of places and peoples. 1.7. For what purpose would a secular institute be established? A secular institute would have the general purpose of aiming at the sanctification of its members. There would also be a specific purpose, such as doing some particular apostolic work to meet a special apostolic need, or simply placing its members at the disposal of the local ordinary (or of the Holy See) to do what, he wishes done. 18. In u2hose hands is the government of a secular institute? In general the government of a secular institute is in the hands of its lay members, at least for the lay sections. In some institutes, however, a priest is serving in the capacity of superior general or provincial superior. But as a rule priest members might act rather in the capacity of spiritual advisers or confessors. 19. What is an ecclesiastical assistant? An ecclesiastical assistant (who might be known possibly~ by some other term) is a priest specially designated to give help to a secular institute. He might be chosen from the ranks of the diocesan or religious clergy. In general the function of an ecclesiastical as-sistant would be that of counseling, giving spiritual help, and the like in the external forum; but his work might vary somewhat at times in accordance with the wishes of the local ordinary. The in-. ternal government of a group, however, should be left to thegroup itself, unless possibly at 'the beginning more than spiritual help is needed from this priest to keep things going. 20. Would it be advisable for this ecclesiastical assistant, ~vbo has authoritq in spiritual matters in the external forum, also to be the ordinartj confessor or spiritual director of a member? If a discussion of t'bis point were held, the conclusion migbt be reached that a negative answer would seem to/be the better one, al- 249 FR,~,NCIS N. KORTH though in some instances such a combination might work out all right. 21. Is it advisable to use terms, such as "'novitiate," "profession," and so on in connection with secular institutes? At present some of the terminology which is common usage in regard to religious institutes is being used by some writers to explain similar matters relating to secular institutes. Terms such as "no-vitiate" and others which are proper to religious institutes are usu-ally not to be applied in their technical sense to secular institutes; rather it is hoped that a distinct body of terminology proper to secular institutes will be built up gradually. One purpose of such separate terminology might be to stress the important fact that members of secular institutes are not religious. PAMPHLETS Looe Letter (on the love of God) by John M. Scott, S.J. l0 cents.-- Twenty-four Rosaries and Chaplets, by Patrick Shaughnessy, O.S.B. 15 cents.- The Grail, St. Meinrad, Indiana. The Teacher and Vocations, by John B. Delaunay, C.S.C. 10 cents-- Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, Indiana. The Ladtl Was Immaculate, by Daniel A. Lord, S.J.--I Can't Cope/ That Family, by Francis L. Filas, S.d.--Death Is Life, by John M. Scott, S.J.--Heart of Our World," by Arthur R. McGratty, S.J.--Don't Go to Hell, by Winfrid Herbst, S.J.--Each 10 cents. The Queen's Work, 3115 3outh Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18,, Mo. 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 boqk of poems, Whom. I Have Loued. $1.00 per copy. Order from: t(ev. Mother M.'Immaculata, P.C., Poor Clare Monastery of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Route 1, Box 285-C, Roswell, New Mexico. 25O Quinquennial Repor!: By Nonfederated Autonomous Monasteries and Houses EDITORS' INTRODUCTION THE decree of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, 3uly 9, 1947 (cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII [Sept., 1949], 234- 40), extended the obligation of m~lking the quinquennial re-port beyond the terms of canon 510, which requires it only of the abbot primate, the superior of every monastic congregation, and the superior general of every institute approved by the Holy See. Now, however, the superiors of all nonfederated autonomous monasteries and houses, as well as the superiors general of all diocesan congrega-tions, are obliged to send in this quinquennial report. Here are the provisions regarding these latter classes of religious: 1. Major superiors of autonomous, monasteries or houses o[ men which, although approved by the Holy See, do not belong to any monastic congregation or federation, shall send in their reports in the foIlowing order: In 1953, 1958, 1963, canons regular, monks, military orders. In 1954, 1959, 1964, all other regulars. In 1955, 1960, 1965, clerical congregations. In 1956, 1961, 1966, lay congregations. In 1957, 1962, 1967, societies of common life, secular insti-tutes and federations. 2. Major superioresses of autonomous monasteries and houses not belonging to any federation, as well as superioresses general of diocesan congregations, societies of common life, and of secular in-stitutes, shall send their report as follows: In I953, 1958, I963, the superioresses of Italy, Spain, Portu-gal. In 1954, 1959, 1964, the superioresses of France, Belgium, Holland, England, Ireland. In 1955, 1960, 1965, the superioresses of the other countries of Europe. In 1956, 1961, 1966, the superioresses of America (North,. Central, South). Shortly after the publication of its decree, the Sacred Congrega- "25t QUINQUENNIAL REPORT tion issued a new questionnaire to replace the official one of March 25, 1922 (AAS, XV, [1923], 459-466) which contained 106 questions. The new questionnaire, printed in Latin, has three forms: (1) for pontifical institutes and societies (342 questions); (2) for diocesan congregations and societies (322 questions); (3) for nonfederated autonomous monasteries and houses (171 questions). The first of these questionnaires, for pontifical institutes a, nd societies, has been translated into English and published by the Sa-cred Congregation. It is available for $1.50 from Rev. Giulio Mandelli, Archivist, S. Congregation of Religious, Palazzo San Cal-listo, Rome, Italy. With the permission of the Sacred Congrega: tion of Religious, this complete official English text was also pub-lished in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS during the course of the year 1950. The two shorter questionnaires have never been translated officially into English. As a matter of fact, the questionnaires fbr pontifical and diocesan institutes are practically identical after one omits some twenty questions dealing with provinces and their government. The complete text for diocesan congregations may be found in Creusen-Ellis: Religious Men and Women in the Code, ed. 5, 1953, pp. 278-316. The questionnaire for nonfederated autonomous monas.teries and houses, however, contains only about half the questions pro-posed for pontifical institutes. It was decided to publish this ques-tionnaire in our REVIEW for the benefit of these small houses because they cannot find the qfiestions elsewhere in English, And, since the monasteries and houses in England and Ireland must send in their reports this year, this questionnaire is being printed now, even though American houses will not need it until 1956. We should like to add that, though these various questionnaires may directly concern only limited numbers of religious, yet all of us can learn a great deal about the mind of the Church by reading the questions. What follows is an unofficial English translation of the official Latin text of the questionnaire: POINTS TO BE NOTED A) Regarding the drawing up, and writing of the quinquennial re-port: a) ]~efore the reply to each question, there should be a clear 252 ~ September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT ¯indication of the number and letter by which that question is desig- ~aated in this list. b) Whenever a pontifical or episcopal document is brought in, its date and protocol number should be faithfully and uniformly given. c) The reply is to be developed as each case may require, and is not to be dismissed with a simple affirmation or denial. d) The report is to be made out in Latin or in any of the fol-lowing modern languages: English, French, German, Spanish, or Italian. e) The report should be typed and in clear characters. If for some just cause the report is written by hand, the handwriting must be clear. f) The paper to be used must not be translucent nor too thick, but durable, so as to resist the ravages of time. B)" Regarding the manner in which this report is to be made to the ordinaGl and transmitted b~] him to the Sacred Congregation of Religious: 1. Superiors of autonomous monasteries and religious houses are not to send the quinquennia! report directly to the Holy See, but rather to their own local ordinary, if they are subject to him, other-. wise to the regular ordinary upon whom they depend (cf. decree Cure transactis, IV, 1°, 2°). 2. The report is to be signed by the superior of the autono-mous monastery or house and by all his councilors. 3. Either the local ordinary or the regular ordinary, as the case may be, shall send a copy of the report, signed by himself and an-notated by his own personal observations, to the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious within the year itself during which the report is to be made. 4. Together with the first report following the publication of the present questionnaire, the following documents also are to be sent to the Sacred Congregation of Religious: a) Two well-bound copies of the Rule and the constitutions, revised to conform with the Code of Canon Law. .b) One copy each, if there are such, of the books in which particular laws, practices, customs, the ceremonial, and proper prayers are contained. c) A historico-juridical report in which are indicate.c[.the origin of the autonomous monastery or house, its establishment or 253 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Reoiew for Religious approval, as well as the principal historical events. To this shall be added, if there are any such, copies of those books which describe the history and activity of the monastery. " ¯ ON THE FIRST PAGE OF THE REPORT PUT THE FOLLOWING: The Name, of the monastery or house: . . . ~ (the of{iclal title in Latin, and the common name) Complete address: postal, telegraphic. The years which are covered by the report: . . . THE LIST OF OUESTIONS CONCERNING THE PRECEDING REPORT 1. a) When was the last report sent to the ordinary? b) Were the observations on the report which may have been made by the Sacred Congregation and transmitted by the or-dinary faithfully carried out in practice? 2. Can the matters of information contained in the last report be conscientiously considered reliable and complete, or does anything concerning them seem to require modification? CHAPTER I THE MONASTERY AND ITS GOVERNMENT ARTICLE I The autonomous monastery or house in general 3. What is the juridical nature of the monastery or house: a) To which order, if any, does it belong and which Rule is followed? b) Are the vows solemn or simple; or simple, though sol-emn according to the institute (c. 488, 7°) ? 4. Is the house provided with those things which are neces-sary for the common life, especially: a) A separate cell for each person; or, if the dormitories are common, at least a separate bed for each person, properly set apart from the others? 254 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT b) A separate place fully suitable for the care and assistance of the sick? c) Are the rooms for receiving guests sufficiently separate from the part of the house which is reserved to the community? 5. Are there an.y filial houses subject to the autonomous mon-astery or house? How many? 6. Does the monastery depend on the local ordinary or on the regular superior? ARTICLE II Concernin9 he juridical 9overnmen÷ 7. Is the general council of the monastery or house up to its full membership at present? 8. Within the period covered by the report, has there been a session of the chapter of elections? 9. Were the norms [for the chapter] prescribed by the com-mon law and by particular law "(the constitutions, etc.) faithfully observed as regards: a) The time of the session? b) The elections of the superior, of the consultors or assist-ants, and of other general officials who are elected by the chapter? 10. In all these matters, even in seeking information about the candidates, did all avoid procuring votes either directly or indirectly for themselves or for others (c. 507, § 2) i1. Who presided at the chapter? 12. Were the norms of the common law and of the constitu-tions observed: a) Regarding the requisites and qualifications of superiors and officials (cc. 504, 516)? b) Regarding the duration of offices (c. 505) 13. How many and what dispensations from the provisions of the common or particular law were granted by the Holy See: a) For appointments to positions or offices? b) For the renewal of the same? c) Were the conditions attached to these dispensations faithfully observed ? 14. How do superiors see to it that the decrees of the Holy See which concern religious are known and observed by their own sub-jects (c. 509, § 1)? 15. Is perfect freedom left to subjects, without any inspec-tion of letters by superiors, in their epistolary correspondence with 255 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT those persons who, according to the common (c. 611) and particu-lar law, have this right? 16. Were there any cases of secret and clandestin~ epistolary correspondence, either between religious or between these and secu-lar persons, and what ,was done to correct these abuses? 17. Has the canonical, visitation of the local ordinary taken place, as well as that of the regular superior, if the monastery is sub-ject to him? 18. Have chapters and council meetings been held at prescribed times and in the required cases? 19. Are the matters in which, according to the common and particular law, councilors have a deliberative or consultative vote, faithfully submitted to a meeting of the council? 20. Is the proper liberty of all and each of the councilors duly recognized in the council meetings? And'in the decisions, appoint-ments and votes of whatever kind, were the norms of the common law (cc. 101, 105, 1°, 2°, 3°) and of the particular law always ob-served ? 21. Are the minutes of the meetings duly drawn up and signed? 22. Are the archives of the monastery or house properly equipped and carefully arranged? 23. Is there also for each house a chronicle in which the prin-cipal events are carefully recorded? ARTICLE III Concerning the spiritual government 24. Are there confessors appointed for each house according to c. 518, § i? 25. Without prejudice to the constitutions which may pre-scribe or recommend that confessions be made at stated times to ap-pointed confessors, are the religious left free to go, in accordance with canon 519, without prejudice however to religious discipline, to a confessor approved by the local ordinary, even though he is not among the appointed confessors? 26. Are the norms of the common law and of the constitu-tions faithfully observed regarding the appointment and reappoint-ment of the ordinary, extraordinary, special, and supplementary confessors (cc. 520, §§ 1-2, 521, 524, 526, 527)? 27. Did superioresses faithfully observe the prescriptions made for them regarding supplementary confessors (c. 521, § 3), occa- 256 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT sional confessors (c. 522), and confessors in case of grave illness (c. 523) ? 28. Do superiors take means and exercise a prudent vigilance to see that all the religious, according to law" (c. 595, § 1, 3,°) and the constitutions (c. 519), receive the sacrament of penance at least once a week? 29. Have superiors been guilty of any abuses, and if so what were they, by which the liberty of conscience of their subjects has been restricted (cc. 518, § 3, 519, 520, § 2, 521,§ 3, 522, 2414)? 30. Has there been, under pretext of.liberty of conscience, any detriment to religious discipline on the part of subjects? Did any other abuses arise? 31. Do superiors, in accordance with canon law (c. 530, §§ 1, 2) leave their subjects free in regard to making a strict mani-festation of conscience to them? 32. Is there an appointed chaplain, or have other provisions been made by sacred functions sufficient for the spiritual welfare of the religious? Are there any difficulties with regard to the spiritual welfare? 33. Do superiors, in accordance with c. 5'95, §§ 2-3, promote among their subjects frequent and even daily reception of the Most Sacred Body of Christ, always without prejudice to full liberty of conscience according to law (c. 595, § 4) and the instructioris of the Holy See? 34. Do superiors diligently see to it that confessors are easily available before Communion, and do they allow their religious sub-jects a suitable time for preparation and thanksgiving? 35. Do superiors see to it that, according to the constitutions and the common law, there are spiritual and catechetical instructions for the entire house (c. 509, § 2, 2°), for the novices (c. 565, § 2), for the conversi [lay brothers and lay sisters], for the domes-tics and servants .(c. 509, § 2, 2°) ? ARTICLE IV Concern[n9 fhe f[nanclal 9overnmenf 36. a) Did the house 'acquire any immovable property or precious movable property? What was the value of these acquisi-tions? b) Was the aforesaid property acquired by gift or other gra-tuitous title, or by purchase, and in this latter case was it with the funds of the house or with borrowed money? 257 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Review for Religious 37. Has the house an inventory of its movable property, espe-cially of that which is classed as precious (by reason of art, his-tory, or material) (c. 1522, 2°) and of its immovable property? 38. When must these inventories be revised, and are they in fact revised? 39. By what method or in whose name before the civil law is the religious property registered? Can this registration be regarded as safe in civil law? 40. Were extraordinary expenses paid from their own ordi-nary or extraordinary income, or on the contrary with borrowed funds? 41. What capital property, whether immovable, or stable [i.e. consisting of capital funds], or precious, was alienated, and by what authority? 42. In the alienation of property, were the provisions of law (cc. 534, 1531), especially regarding the previous appraisal by ex-perts, and the norms of the constitutions, observed? 43. Did the house consume any stable or founded property or capital funds? For what reasons and by what authority? 44. Are superiors making serious efforts to recover this prop-erty ? 45. a) What debts were contracted, and by whom? b) What debts are actually outstanding~ 46. In contracting debts and obligations, were the following faithfully observed : a) The provisions of c. 534? b) The precautions mentioned in c. 536, § 5? c) The norms of the constitutions regarding permissions, the consent of the council, etc. ? 47. Was the interest on debts and obligations faithfully paid, and is diligent care being taken toward the gradual payment of the debt; or the amortization of the capital sum borrowed (c. 536, § 5)? 48. Are there any difficulties of an economic nature, and what are they ? 49. Is the administration of property conducted, not abitrar-ily, but according to the common law and the constitutions, under the direction and vigilance of the superior and of his council (cc. 516, § 2, 532, § 1)? 50. Was a clear and complete rendering of account demanded 258 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT of all and each of the bursars and administrators during the five-year period ? 51. Were there presented, together .with the accounts, the documents showing the expenditures and receipts? 52. Was there regularly an inspection and checking of the safe? 53. Did superiors, councils, and administrators lawfully, safely, and profitably invest the money which was to be invested according to law and the will of benefactors, observing the rules of law and the constitutions (c. 533) ? 54. Are money, securities, contracts, precious articles carefully preserved, observing exactly the common norms and the provisions of the constitutions? 55. Do superiors, bursars, administrators conscientiously strive to have all the property of the institute religiously preserved and providently administered (c. 532, § 1)? 56. What legacies and pious foundations were accepted? 57. In accepting pious foundations and legacies, were the rule~ of law (c. 1544, ss.) and of the constitutions observed? 58. Was the money of foundations and pious causes, accord-ing to law and with the consent of the 16cal ordinary when that was required, invested (cc. 535,. §§ 1,. 2: 1547)' and separately and faithfully administered (cc. 535, § 3, 2°; 1546; 1549)? 59. Were the obligations attached to foundations faithfully and conscientiously fulfilled (cc. 151,4, 1549, § 2)? 60. Did visitors demand documentary proof of their fulfil-ment and an account of the administration of the property? 61. Did any religious, superiors or subjects, personally or through others, engage in illicit business, that is, business not per-mitted to religious, in violaton of cc. 142, 592? 62. Were superiors and councils attentively watchful that, ac-cording to c. 1539, § 2, in the administrative exchange of securities payable to bearer, all appearance of commerce or trading was avoid-ed? 63. How did superiors exercise vigilance over the actions and dealings of their subjects from which there might arise according to law a financial responsibility on the part of tbe house (c. 536, § 2) or of the individual religious (c. 536, § 3) ? 64. Do superiors see to it that, in all matters which concern finances, or in those generally which could give occasion for litiga-tion in the canonical or civil courts, everything is done exactly ac- 259 QUINQUENNIAL" "R EPOR.T Review for Religious cording to law, on the basis of previous written contracts and with the guarantee of perfectly valid signed agreements, etc. (c. 1529)? 65. How are the economic needs of the monastery provided for: by the labor of the community or by alms? 66. What, if any, activity does the community engage in for its own support? CHAPTER II CONCERNING THE RELIGIOUS AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE AND DISCIPLINE 67. What are the different classes, if any, among the members of the monastery? Does harmony exist among the different classes and is fraternal charity observed among them? 68. What is the actual number of those professed of tempo-rary vows and of perpetual vows, according to the various classes? 69. Besides the persons who belong to the institute or society as members, by religious profession or lawful incorporation, are there others who are dedicated or given to it, or the like, without being members? 70. Is provision made in fairness and charity for the spiritual life of these persons and also for their material security? 71. Are there any legitimately approved statutes for them? ARTICLE I Concerning the admission, formation, and profession or incorporation of members 72. Is the condition of the extern sisters regulated according to the statutes promulgated by the S. Congregation on 3uly 16, 19317 73. Are the postulantships properly conducted according to law in the novitiate house (c. 540, § 1), or in houses where perfect religious observance exists (c. 540) ? 74. Was the time assigned by the common law (c. 539) or by the constitutions for the postulantship abbreviated or prolonged? If so,~for how long a time and by what authority? 75. What means are used to arouse and attract vocations? 76. Taking into account the different circumstances of various localities, what causes are regarded as having an influence on the in-crease or diminution of vocations? 77. What are the obstacles which aspirants most frequently have to overcome in order to follow th~ir vocation? 260 September, 195"4 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT 78. Were the documents required by the 'common law (c. 544) and by the constitutions demanded before admission in the case of each aspirant? 79. At least before entrance into the novitiate, were the fol-lowing testimonial letters demanded and obtained: a) The common testimonial letters which are to be given by the local ordinaries and are prescribed for all (c. 544, § 2) ? b) The special testimonial letters which are to be given under oath by the rector or major superior fo~ those who have been in a seminary or a college which is equivalent to an ecclesiastical one, or in a postulantship or novitiate of a religious institute (c. 544, §3)? c) Likewise the testimonial letters which are required in the case.of clerics and professed religious (c. 544, §§ 4, 5) ? 80. Besides the documents and testimonials which are spe-cially prescribed by law or by the constitutions, were further infor-mations which seemed necessary or useful in order to judge with certainty of the vocation and fitness of the aspirants diligently sought (c. 544, § 6)? 8 I. From what impediments¯ or defects, if any, of the common or particular law, were dispensations granted? How often and by what authority was this done? 82. Were aspirants always admitted by the competent su-periors, according to the prescriptions of the law (c. 543) ? 83. Is the right of the institute to demand payment for the expenses of the religious habit and board during the postulantship and noviceship given in the constitutions or customarily recognized by express agreement? 84. Who determines the amount to be paid? 85. How many novices are there at present? 86. Did each and every novice have a complete copy of the constitutions from the beginning of the novitiate? 87. Are ~he novices, according to law and the constitutions, kept separate from the professed, and is any undue communication between them tolerated (c. 564, § 1, 2) ? 88. Did each and every novice before profession make a com-plete and continuous canonical year of noviceship, without counting the first day, in a novitiate house lawfully erected, under the care and direction of a master (cc. 555, § 1, 556, 557) ? 89. Was the noviceship extended or shortened beyond the 261 QUINQUEN.NIAL REPORT Review for Religio. us limits fixed by law (c. 571, §2) and the constitutions? If so, for how long a time and by w.hat authority was this done? 90. Was there always in the novitiate a master of novices duly appointed or elected (c. 560) ? 91. Have the novice master and his socius all the qualifications and all the requisites prescribed by the common law (c. 559, § 1, 2) and the cgnstitutions, or did dispensations have to be asl~ed for" and obtained ? 92. A~ the master and socius free from all offices and minis-~ tries in or out of the house which might interfere with their care a'nd direction of the novices( c. 559, § 3)? 93. Did all the novices, according to c. 569, § 1, before the first profession of simple vows, freely cede the administration, and either cede or dispose of the use and usufruct, of their propett~y? 94. In case the aforesaid cession and disposition were n6t:':duly made before the profession, or in case new property was acquired thereafter, were they made or completed after the profession (c. 569, § 2)? 95. Were any changes of the aforesaid cession and disposition after the profession made always in accordance with c. 580, § 37 96. Did the novices of the monasteries of simple vows, before their first profession of temporary vows, freely make a will in due.: form, valid according to the civil law, regarding their present or future property (c. 569, § 3)? 97. Were any changes in this will which may have been made after profession, made according to c. 583, 2°? . .: 98. Do the superior and council carefully and constan.tly keep-a strict watchfulness as regards admissions? ¯ 99. Has the first profession, after eight 'full .days of spiritual exercises, always been made validly and licitly according to law and the constitutions (cc. 572, 573, 575)? 100. Did the superioresses, two months before admission to the noviceship, and to the first temporary profession, and to perpetual profession, give timely notice to the local ordinary (c. 552, § 1), so that he or his delegate might gratuito.usly conduct the canonical-ex-amination regarding the free and conscious will of the postulant or candidate (c. 552, § 2)?. : 101. Was the prescribed examination always made? ' 102. Is the dowry obligatory, or, on the contrary, is it left en-. tirely or partly optional (c. 547, § 3) ? 262 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT . 103. Was the delivery of .the dowry made according to law (c. 547, § 2) and the constitutions? 104. Were the dowries, immediately after the first profession, always invested by the superioress, with the deliberative vote of her council and the consent of the ordinary of the place where the capi-tal of the dowries is kept (c. 549) ? 105. Were the dowries spent or encumbered in any way before the death of the religious concerned? If so, by what authority Was this done? Were the dowries so spent or encumbered, even though it was done after obtaining lawful permission, afterward restored or cleared of the encumbrance? What is their condition at the present time (c. 549) ? 106. Where and how are the dowries administered? Are the rules of law faithfully observed regarding their administration (cc. 550, 535, § 2)? 107. Is all property which is brought in as dowry, even though it be in excess of the sum required for a dowry in the constitutions or even though there be in ihe congregation no obligation to bring in a dowry, accepted, invested, administered, etc. with the observance of the norms which govern dowries? 108. In case of the departure of a professed religious, for what-ever was needed that she might safely and decently return borne and likewise the personal belongings which t.he novice brought with her at her entrance, in the condition in which they were when she left, restored to the religious departing or transferring~ without the in-come which had a.lready accrued (cc. 551, 570, § 2)? 109. In case of the departure of a professed religious who had been received without a dowry or with an insufficient one, if she was unable to provide for herself out of her own property, did the insti-tute out of charity according to law (c. 643, § 2), give her what-ever was needed thatshe might safely and decently return home and be fittingly supported for a tim~? 110. What, if any, dispensations were necessary for the pro-nouncement of the vows? 111. How many and what sanations-were afterward necessary? 112. Were the temporary vows which are prescribed by law and by the constitutions (c. 574, § 1), when the tittle for which they were taken had elapsed (c. 577, § 1), always renewed according to law (c. 577, § 2), so that no one ever remained without vows? 113. How often was the temporary profession extended beyond 263 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Reoieta for Religious the six-year period allowed by law, and by what authority was this done (c. 574, § 2)? 114. ]Did all the professed of simple vows in orders, within sixty days before their profession of solemn vows, duly make the prescribed renunciation of the property which they actually pos-sessed, in the form of a true cession but not in the form of a will, to whomever they chose, on condition of their future profession (c. 581, § 1)? 115. After the profession was made, were all things immedi-ately done which were necessary in order that the renunciation be effective in civil law (c. 581, § 2) ? 116. Did the superior who received the solemn profession give notice of it to the pastor of baptism in accordance with cc. 470, § 2, 576', § 2? ARTICLE II Concerning the relicjious life and discipline 117. Is perfect common life according'to c. 594, the Rule, and the constitutions observed everywhere? 118. What has been done and is being done positively to safe-guard and promote the virtue and. spirit of poverty? 119. Do superiors and officials, out of religious charity and in order to ward off from the religious occasions of sinning against poverty, provide, within the limits of poverty itself, what is neces-sary and appropriate in the way of food, clothing, and other things? 120. Do they allow the religious to ask for or receive these things from externs? 121. Are the sick and the aged religious, attended to with special care and helped in both body and soul with paternal charity, so that, within the limits of religious poverty, they lack nothi'ng which seems necessary for the recovery ot their .health and for their spir-itual consolation? 122. Did all superiors make it a matter of conscientious duty to be attentively vigilant regarding those things, both in and out of the house, which may easily contain dangers against religious chas-tity ? 123. What kind of cloister is observed? Are the places subject to cloister clearly marked and sufficiently guarded? Are the pre-scriptions of the law and of the constitutions regarding cloister faithfully observed (cc. 589-599; 604) ? 264 ~epte,-nber, 124. frequent, principal 125. 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Were the cases of dispensation from the law of cloister either for going but,- or for entering? Which were the ones? Are difficulties experienced in the observance of cloister, esl~ecially when nuns~ are engaged in the works of the apostolate, of education, etc. ? 126. a) Are the parlors so arranged that what goes on in them ~an be seen from the outside? b) Is the frequency of parlor visits regulated according to the constitutions and religious prudence? 127. Do the rooms which are reserved for chaplains and confeS-sors or preachers have a separate entrance and no internal communi-cation with the quarters of the religious? 128. Is religious discipline observed, and is the,government of superiors made easy by the docility of the subjects? Was it neces-sary often to impose formal precepts in virtue of the vow of obedi-ence? 129. Were such precepts given in due form according to the 'constitutions, and always for a grave reason? 130. Are the Rule and the constitutions faithfully observed (c. 593) ? 131. Are the Rule and the constitutions read publicly at the prescribed times (c. 509, § 2, 1°) ? 132. Do superiors see to it that in all the houses the exercises of piety which are prescribed for every day, every week, every month, every year, or for other fixed times, are faithfully and worthily per-formed according to the constitutions? 133. Do superiors see to it that all the religious: a) Make a retreat every year? b) ,Are present at Mass every day if not legitimately pre-vented ? c) Give themselves to mental prayer every day? d) Attend earnestly to the other offices of piety which are prescribed by the rules and constitutions (c. 595, § 1, 1 ° and 2°) ? 134. Do superiors see to it that all the members are able to be present at community exercises? 135. If choir service is prescribed by the constitutions, is it held exactly and worthily in each of the houses according to the same constitutions and the common law (c. 610, § i), the religious who are bound to choir and not actually lawfully impeded being present? 265 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT 136. Do superiors see to it that priests, clerics in major orders, and the solemnly professed, who were absent from choir, recite the Divine Office privately with attention and devotion (c. 610, § 3) ?. 137. Are the relations between the different members of the house, between superiors and subjects, etc., characterized by a spirit of true charity? 138. Are defects against charity severely corrected? 139. Are superiors watchful that no book~ be used, whether in manuscript or published form, which are not entirely safe? 140. Are the spiritual books which, according to law, the reli-gious use privately, approved by the Church and in keeping with the religious state, and suitable for the spiritual welfare of the indi-vidual ieligious to whom they are permitted? ARTICLE III Concernincj those Who have departed or been dismissed and others who leave the institute 141. a) How many in the house, at the expiration of their. vows, did not renew them, either because they chose not to do so or because they were not allowed to do so? b) How many of the professed of temporary vows were dispensed from their vows during this period, and how many of the professed of perpetual vows were dispensed? 142. Were those who were dispensed from their vows at their own request or with their consent, forced or, without serious and grave reasons and precautions, permitted to leave the religious house before the rescript was duly executed? 143. How many transfers, if any, were there to another insti-tute ? 144. How many apostates and fugitives, if any, were there during the five-year period? 145. a) Since the last report, how many of the professed of temporary vows and how many of the professed of perpetual vows have been dismissed? b) In the dismissal of religious, whether of" temp~[ary or of perpetual vows, were the norms of the common law "('cd." 647, § 2, 4°; 649-672) as well as those of the constitutions observed? Was the same done in regard to not admitting the prqfe~se~l 0f ~emporary vows to the renewal of their vows or to perpetu~il pro-fession (c. 637) ? 266 September, 1954 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT. 146. Were the dismissed of 'temporary vows, while the recourse duly made within ten days was pending (c. 647, § 2; S. C. of Reli-gious, 20 July 1923, AAS, XV [1923], 457), and the dismissed of perpetual vows, before the decree or judgment of dismissal had been confirmed by the Sacred Congregation (cc. 652, 666). forced to leave the institute? 147. What were the cases, and the causes which led to them,, among both the professed of temporary vows and those of per-petual vows, in which they were either sent back to the world on account of grave scandal or very grave harm (cc. 653, 668) or dis-missed by the law itself :(c. 646) ? 148. How many ~ses of exclaustration were there, if any? Were the causes carefull) and conscientiously pondered in the pres-ence of God before the petition was recommended and the rescript executed ? 149. Does the institute take care: a) That indults are renewed in due time, if it seems neces-sary to ask for an extension? b) That the persons who are excloistered lead a worthy religious life and return as soon as possible to the cloister? 150. Do superiors see to it that subjects remain out of the house only for a just and grave reason and for the shortest possible time, according to the constitutions (c. 606, § 2) ? 151. Were 'the prescribed suffrages faithfully and promptly per-formed for all the deceased? " " 152. Do superiors, in accordance with c. 509, § 2, 2°, give to those religious who belong to the class of conversi, instruction in Christian doctrine? And do superiors, carefully attend to the training of these same religious, both before and after their profes-sion, especially during the earlier years, according to the offices~ which are entrusted to them? 153. Do superiors with paternal charity diligently provide also for the bodily health of the conuersi or coadjutors? CHAPTER III C;ONI31:RNING THE WORKS AND MINISTRIES OF THE MONASTERY 154. What works are carried on in the house (apostolate, edu-cation, manual labor for pay) ? 155. Was begging from door to door, according to law 267 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT Reoieu2 for Religious (cc. 621, 622) and their own constitutions, done with the required permissions ? 156. Moreover, in begging, were the rules of law (c. 623), the instructions of the Holy See (c. 624), and the norms of the con-stitutions observed ? 157. What precautions are taken in this communication with seculars to avoid harm to the religious and scandal to seculars? 158. How often and by what superiors are the books of Masses of each house examined and signed? 159. As regards the manual stipend of~ Masses, did all the houses obser;ce the decrees of the local ordinaries and the customs of the dioceses according to cc. 831, §§ 2-3; 832? 160. In each of the houses were the obligations of Masses, both perpetual and manual, faithfully satisfied in due time according to cc. 834, 15177 161. Were any special concessions made in this matter, either as regards the reduction of the stipends or intentions, or as to deferring the celebration of the Masses? If so, what were they? CONCLUSION A ~summary compara÷ive judcjmenf recjardln9 fhe stale of fhe monas.fery 162. Is the autonomous monastery or house fully self-sufficient with regard to the personnel needed to fill the various offices of gov-ernment and to carry out its proper work, also with regard to relig-ious formation, as well' as with regard to economic means, so that regular observance can flourish fully? 163. What is to be said about the desire for and the actual striving toward evangelical perfection on the part of the members (cc. 487, 488, 1°) ? 164. In this respect is there in the institute progress.or retro-gression as compared with the preceding five-year period, and how is this manifested or proved? What are the reasons for either the progress or the retrogression? 165. What has been done by superiors during the five-year period to promote the tendency toward perfection and to prevent relaxation? 166. What is to be said summarily about the observance of the: vows and of the provisions of canon law, the Rule, 'and the consti-tutions, both absolutely and in comparison with the preceding five- 268 September, 1954 REGIONAL CONFERENCES AND WORKSHOPS year period ? 167. What are the points of religious discipline which are more easily and frequently violated? I68. What causes may be assigned for the progress in religious observance or for its decline? 169. What has been done by superiors to secure faithful and ~omplete regular observance? 170. As regards capital and finances what is the condition of the house in itself and in comparison v~ith the preceding five-year period ? 171. To what causes is the growth or diminution of capital and income to be attributed ? Given at Rome; from the headquarters of the S. Congregation ~of Religious, December 9, 1948. ALOYSIUS CARD. LAVITRANO, Prefect FR. L. H. PASSETTO, Secretaru REGIONAE CONFERENCES AND WORKSHOPS 1954-55 OF THE CATHOLIC: HOSPITAL AssoCIATION This year's program includes eight such special conferences., The first general subject, The Improvement of Patient Care, is pre-sented for religious in large hospitals on October 4 to 6,.1954, at the Sheraton Hotel,'St. Louis, Missouri. For religious in small hospitals another regional workshop on this subject will be presented Novem-ber 28 to 30, 1954, also at the Sheraton Hotel in St. Louis. Conferences on Medical-Moral Problems are also planned. These special group meetings are presented under the direction of Reverend Gerald Kelly, S.J., of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, con-sultant for the Association's activity in this field. The first is to takd place at St. Michael's Hospital, Grand Forks, North Dakota, October 25 to 27, 1.954. Two others are in the process of development--one for the East. ¯ and another to be held in the Mid-West. Further announcement will be made when this information .is available. On January 17, 18, and 19, 1955, at the Sheraton Hotel in St. Louis, Missouri, there will be a Special Conference for Treasureis (Continued on page 272) ¯, o 269 Questions and Answers 26 Suppose a sister can hear only one Mass on Sunday and during thai' Mass she performs her duty of saying her morning prayer or reading the, Liffle Office: is it possible to fulfill both th~se obligations at one and the same time, according to the mind of the Church? As regards merely the fulfillment of the diverse obligations, there seems to be no difficulty. Even the serious obligation (e.g., of a deacon or subdeacon) of reciting the Divine OtSce in private can be fulfilled while one is hearing a Mass of obligation. Certainly, there-fore, the sister's lesser duties of saying morning prayers or of recit-ing the Little Office can be fulfilled during a Mass of obligation-- unless the constitutions expressly provide otherwise. The "mind of the Church" for religious includes more than the mere fulfillment of obligations; it includes not only what is neces-sary but~ what is appropriate. And in the sense of what is appropri-ate it is certainly the mind of the Church that the prayers prescribed for religious, even when the prescription does not bind under pain of sin, should ordinarily be said at some time other than the 'Sunday Mass of obligation or the weekday community Mass. The saying of such prayers during these Masses should at most be merely by way of exception, e.g., because of the special pressure of other duties. And it seems to us that in these exceptional cases it would be better to follow the Mass in the usual way and to omit the other prayers. If conditions become such that tl'iis "pressure pf other duties" is habitual and not merely exceptional, then superiors should see to it that these ~otber duties are lessened so that their subjects have time for their prayers: --27m If one is rushed at confession time and in the confusion fails to make an act of contritlon.in.the confessional, is the confession invalid? True contrition is certainly necessary for valid absolution; and' according to most theologians some external manifestation of this contrition is also required for validity. But this external manifesta-tion of contrition does not have to be according to any .set formula,. nor does it even have to be expressed in words. A dolorosa confes- 270 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS sio--tbat is, confession itself when sincerely made with a view to receiving absolution by one who, has internal sorrow-~-is~a suffi'cient external sign of the contrition; and absolution given to one who has made such a confession is certainly valid. It is true that we should always train the faithful to make a verbal act of contrition in the confessional, after having confessed their sins. But the making of this verbal act is rather a matter of good procedure--and for some people a means of being sure ot: the requisite expression of sorrow--than an absolute essential As for the case proposed in the question: we would tell any sin-cere religious or devout lay person that the absolution was undoubt-. edly valid and tbat there is no reason for anxiety. --28-- Is a sister superior justified in insisting that her subjects must not drink water before Holy C;ommunion unless there is some real necessity for doincj so? Accordin~ to the ApOstolic Constitution Christus Dominus plain water no longer breaks the Eucharistic fast. No reason either of nec_essity or even of special utility is required for drinking water before Holy Communion. Consequently, a religious superior is no more justified now in insisting that subjects should not drink water without necessity after midnight than she would have been justified before .3anuary 16, 1953, in insisting that subjects should not drink water without necessity before midnight. m29D Is it ever permissible to receive Hob/ Gommunlon without flrs~ cjo[ncj to confession when one has committed a mortal sin? Canon 856 states that one who is conscious of having committed a mortal sin shouldnot receive'Holy Communion without first go-ing to confession. This is the ordinary rule. The canon adds, bow-ever, that in a case of urgent necessity, when there is no opportunity of going to confession, one may receive Holy Comunion after having made an act of perfect contrition. There are many aspects to this question; and all of them require careful explanation. For such explanation the questioner is referred to the article "Confession befo*re Communion," in REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, XII (May, 1953), 135-50. : 271 Q~JESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~;iew lot Religious --30-- /. If one is in doubt about having given the consent necessary-'for a mortal sin, is it preferable to abstain from Holy Communion until one can get to confession? Generally speaking, it is not preferable.to omit Holy commun-ion; although it might be preferable in some cases, e.g., b~cause a person has a special proneness to laxity. The proper judge c~f such a case is the spiritufil director or confessor of that person. Although it is certainly not obligatory and generally not even preferable to omit Holy Communion because of a do.ubt; yet it is at least advisable--and in our opinion obligatory--for one who has d really solid doubt (and not a mere scruple) about having committed a mortal sin to take some reasonable means of making sure he is in the state of grace before he receives Holy Communion. In the case proposed in the question a reasonable means would be to make an act of perfect contrition for all one's sins, including the doubtful matter. This problem of doubt is also explained more fully in the article referred'to in the preceding question, pp. 139-40. Regional Conferences and Workshops (Continued from page 269) and General Accountants of Religious Groups Conducting Hospi: tals. This particular meeting is especially planned by the Assoda-tion's Council on Financial Management and will focus upon poli-cies, techniques, and procedures involved in the handling of financial affairs of these groups. Other meetings for special groups have also been scheduled. These include a Conference on Collegiate Programs in Nursing Edu-cation at the Sheraton Hotel, St. Louis, February 19 to 21, 1955; a Conference on Accounting for Administration (especially for the small hospital) at the Hotel Piedmont, Atlanta, Georgia, April 18 to 19, 1955; the Western Conference of Catholic Hospitals is spon-soring a Workshop on Purchasing for Hospital Purchasing Officers on April 23 to 24, 1955, at St. Mary's Hospital, San Francisco: also a Conference on Public Relations for Administrators and Public Rela2 tions Officers of Catholic Hospitals--April 23 to 24, 1955, also St. Mary's Hospital, San Francisco, California. 272 THE NEW TESTAMENT. By James A. Klelst, S.J., and Joseph M. Lilly, C.M. The Bruce Publlshln9 Co., Milwaukee. 1954. Pp. bg0. $5.00. The work of Fathers Kleist and Lilly as presented in this book is a marked example of the progress which Scriptural studies in general and New Testament efforts in particular have made in the last fifty years. A quarter of a century ago, appreciating the ad~ vances scholarship had made in the study of the post-classical Greek language as well as in Hellenistic civilization, Father Kleist surmised that the gospels translated from the Greek of that period might convey to the Christian reader a better understanding of Christ's life and message than could be derived from the more or less slavish ren-dition from the Latin Vulgate into quite antiquated English phrase-ology which was' all.tbat the Catholic reader had; he considered that such a translation would afford Catholics the opportunity, in a prac-tical way, of realizing the hope whicb the Church was expressing-- namely that her members should read the Bible more assiduously. He set himself to that task, and the result of his labors makes up nearly half of the present volume. The gospel translation is in clear, flowing, modern literary Eng-lish; it conveys the G/~eek thought accurately. To achieve this ac-curacy the translation interprets the meaning of words and phrases, uses synonyms for the same Greek word to bring out the shades of thought, employs expressions which do not require the learning of a theologian or of an expert exegete to grasp. The word pneutna, for example, is not always translated by "spirit" and the passages in which this word occurs are so well phrased that no commentary is required to explain them. Thus: "Blessed are the poor in spirit" (Mr. 5:3) becomes, "Blessed are the humble souls"; "And sighing deeply in spirit" (Mk. 8:12) becomes, "He sighed from the depths of his soul"; "When Jesus saw the Jews weeping .he grbaned in spirit and was troubled" (Jo. 11:33) becomes, "The sight of them stirred Jesus deeply and shook his inmost soul." There is a pleasing, natural ease, simplicity, and spontaneity throughout the translation. Christ's Words are not, "Woman, thou art delivered from thy in-firmity" (Lk. 13:12), but, "My good woman, you are now rid of your infirmity." Notabl.yhappy is the rendition of 3o. 3:8 which, 273 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious instead of, "So is everyone who is born of the Spirit," reads, "Some-thing like this takes place in everyone born of the Spirit." What~- ever notes are appended to the gospels are the work of Rev. Henr~; Willmering, S.J., New Testament professor at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. The notes are always pointed, clear, concise. All the rest of the translation in this volume is the product of Father Lilly. Emboldened by the various encyclicals on Biblical studies from Leo XIII to Pius XII, his experience as a seminary" professor ot: Sacred Scripture indicating the need of a good transla-tion from the Greek, Father Lilly generously undertook to do all the rest of the New Testament, a task which Father Kleist had said he would never venture to do~ Father Lilly succeeded admirably in his efforts. He concentrated his best energies on the letters of the Apos-tles; only secondarily did he give consideration to the narrative of the Acts of the Apostles. The result is that this narrative does not vary in any notable way from the Confraternity translation, for the phraseology of the two translations is often identical. But in the letters and in the Apocalypse, Father Lilly took greater liberty to clarify the meaning of the texts. A few instances of his excellent work may be here cited: "Who have the fathers, and from whom is the Christ according to the flesh," he expresses as, "The patriarchs are theirs, and from them has been derived the human nature of Christ" (Rom. 9:3). The less intelligible wording of "the work of each will be made manifest, for the day of the Lord will declare. it, since the day is to be revealed in fire. The fire will assay the quality of everyone's work: if his work abides which he has built thereon, he will receive reward; if his work burns he will lose his. reward, but himself will be saved, yet so as through fire" (1 Cor. 3:13-15) is clarified thus: "Each individual's work will be made manifest. The day will make it known because fire will lay it bare, and will test the quality of each individual's work. If the work any-one has put into the superstructure stands firm, he will be rewarded, but if anyone's work is burned up, he will suffer a loss, yet he him-self will be saved, though only by passing, so to speak, through fire." Simple sentences and expressions are expertly turned. Apoc. 4:2 may serve as one example: "Immediately I was in the spirit, and behold there was a throne in heaven," gets this phrasing: "Suddenly I was thrown into an ecstacy. To my surprise, there was a throne set up in heaven." This book is the latest and till~ now the best product of a happy I 27.4 September, 1934 BOOK REVIEWS tendency to which New Testament studies have been yielding in recent years amongst Catholic'English-speaklng scholars. It is a co-ordinated result of two lines of modern effort: to translate from tile Greek rather than from the Latin ~Vulgate, and secondly, to make the translations interpretative rather than rigidly literal. In 1901 Father Seymour Hobart Spencer, O.P., laid a milestone when he translated the four gospels from the Greek; before he died in 1913 he had finished the entire New Testament. Not until 1937, how-ever, was his entire opus published for the first time. Leo XIII's Providentissimus Deus lent spark to this line of effort, and in the 1930s the Westminster Version of the New Testament from the Greek appeared. Both Father Spencer, however, and the Westminster translators employed a prudent restraint in their venturesome task. They kept themselves considerably constrained and adhered largely to literalness in their translations. Yet there was a kind of restiveness arising amongst scholars to offer a translation which would be quite sufficiently interpretative and would' not require much comment of exegetes to explain the meaning of the text. This restiveness began to assert itself in the 1940s. It chose as the object on which it could exercise itself the Latin Vulgate and the reason for this choice was that the more in- .terpretative translation could be read at the Catholic church services. In 1941 the Confraternity translation of the New Testament ap-peared in the United States, and its purpose was rather to modernize antiquated expressions than to translate with the freedom which interpretation requires; but three years later Msgr. Ronald Knox published his work in England with a freedom and ease of phrase-ology hitherto unemployed, modestly interpreting the meaning of the Vulgate. Both these translations, as well as those from the Greek mentioned above, were quite well accepted generally, though in cer-tain circles they did suffer severe criticism. There was something of heroism, tberefore, in carrying out to completion the present work, since this volume, no doubt, will be criticized for precisely the two characteristics which make it a sign of true advancement in .scholarship: it is a translation from the Greek; it is made with a considerable amount of freedom to express in an interpretative Catholic way what the inspired authors of the New Testament are trying to say. The book seems to be a must in the libraries of theologians, scholars, exegetes, priests, and laymen who are" interested in understanding the New Testament. It is not, 275 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious however, the last product of the trend from which it evolved. Some future translator from the Greek may interpert more easily and more clearly passages like 1 Cor. 7:29-35; 9:24-27; 10:29 and 30; but that must await the time when Catholic readers will have become more adjusfed to having a clear, expository text before them to ponder. The present work will help toward that adjustment and is paving the way toward the entrance of the Word of God into the hearts of men.--EDWARD J. HODOUS, S.J. THE CHURCH AND INFALLIBILITY. By Dom B. C. Buffer. Sheed and Ward, New York. 1954. Pp. 230. $3.50. Back in 1889 Dr. George Salmon, Provost ok Trinity College, Dublin, published The Infallibility of the Church, a celebrated pole-mical work in which he vigorously attacked and in the minds of many contemporary Protestant readers thoroughly demolished the "Roman" position on the nature of infallibility, the primacy and infallible teaching authority of the Roman Pontiff, and the legiti-macy if tradition as a font of divine revelation. Two years ago an abridged edition of this work came from the press, and it is in the hope of breaking a lance or two with the "abridged Salmon" that the Abbot of Downside, Dora Christopher Butler, a frequent and gifted contributor to The Downside Review, has e'ntered the lists with the book here under r'eview. It will be no surprise to those who know Dom Butler's profi2 ciency in the field of Patristics and Early Church History to dis-cover that in this altogether irenic rebuttal the Abbot of Downside has time after time driven home through the chinks in Dr. Salmon's armor, chinks that have been in not a few places widened consider-ably by the scientific findings and the more balanced historical eval- .uations of the past fifty years. If the work will prove an ornament to the apologetic section of the school or community library, it may still be said (and I think that Dom Christopher would be the first to agree) that the book is not intended as an organized positive ex-position of the Church's infallibility, its meaning, its necessity, its causes, its organs; nor despite its clarity of presentation and cogency of argumentation will it supply for such an exposition. The reader destined to profit most from the book will be the reader who has already a firm grip on the fundamental principles of the th.eology of the Church, her organization and doctrinal mission. -~S. E. DONLON, S.J: 2 6. September, 1954 BOOK REVIEWS MARY IN OUR LIFE. By William G. Most, Ph.D.P.J. Kenedy and Sons, New York. 19S4. Pp. 323. $4.00. Mar~l in our Life was first written as a series of chapters for Mariology study clubs at Loras College, where the author is associ-ate professor of classical languages. It has the double merit, there-fore, of being instructive in subject matter and at the same time per-sonal and direct in its manner of presentation. The body of the book is divided into twenty-three chapters of about ten pages each that range over a wide area of patristics, dogma, ascetics, and liturgy in their bearing on the general theme that "since God has given Mary an all-pervading place in His scheme for the redemption of man, it follows that if we wish to grow in love of God . . . we will give Mary a corresponding place in our soul-life." Chapter titles like The Popes and Co-redemptrix, Mary on Calvary, Mystical Rose, Spouse of the Holy Spirit, Marian Visions and Revelations suggest the balance of doctrine and devotion which the writer set himself to achieve. The strictly dogmatic section cov-ers the first sixty-five pages, in which the main purpose is to analyse the recent papal statements on Mary's place in the economy of sal-vation. In the remaining fifteen chapters, the principles of the spiritual life are explained in their relation to the Mother of God as the perfect model of sanctity and the channel of all graces. The longest chapter in the book, Pondering in Our Hearts with Mary, is an earnest apologia for the practice of mental prayer among the laity, in imitation of the Blessed Virgin, "whose communion with God in mental prayer or meditation was constant." Eminently prac-tical, it is intended to answer the objection that "Formal meditation may be all right for priests and religious, but how could a working man or woman or a housewife manage to undertake so complex an exercise?" Each chapter is followed by a set of notes, up to several pages in length, which give the sources for the quotations used and further explanation of various problems in the text. Particularly commendable is the frequent use of primary sources, e.g., from the Fathers, papal documents, and writings of the saints. By actual count, there are 530 reference notations, with an emphasis on mod-ern writers such as Garrigou-Lagrange. The latter part of the book contains an Appendix and a set of Questions for Discussion. The Appendix supplies a certain amount of documentary detail that was properly omitted from the body of the book, for example, a llst of passages from the Fathers on the 277 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious New Eve, papal texts on the question of Mary's Co-redemption of the human race, St. Dominic as author of the Rosary, and the his-toricity of the vision of St. Simon Stock. The Questions for Dis-cussion are intended for private, class, or study-dub use. Approxi-mately two hundred questions, answerable from the text, are pointed to arousing ~houghtful reflection: for instance, "Did Mary merit to be the Mother of God? . . . Is devotion to Mary optional?" As an instance of the mature balance which characterizes the en-' tire book may be cited the treatment of Marian Visions and Revela-tions. With scores of possible pitfalls, the author carefully dis-tinguishes the meaning and necessity of private and public revela-tion, explaining that "ali the means that we need for salvation are contained in public revelation." Some people, he complains, practi-cally identify their devotion to the Mother of God with recounting the stories of visions and revelations. "On the other hand, through the right attitude we can derive great value from the messages given to us by Our Lady in such genuine apparitions as those at Lourdes and Fatima," whose genuinity is attested by the Church's official ap-proval.-- JOHN A. HARDON, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wis. The Catholic College in the World Today. By Edward A. Fitzpatrick. The author, retiring president of Mount Mary College, here weaves into book form a series of addresses about Catholic col-lege education. He stresses the opportunity of the Catholic college to leaven present-day American culture with the riches of Catholic cul-ture, particularly its emphasis on moral and spiritual values and its focus on the importance of the individual. He looks to crusading graduates to assume their manifest duty to carry out this mission. Pp. 269. $6.00. His Heart in Our Work. Thoughts for a Priestl~t Apostolate. Edited by Francis L. Filas, S.J. This book is a collection of articles selected from Alter Christus, the periodical published from 1937 to 1950 as an American quarterly bulletin of The League of Sacerdotal Sanctity. Although the essays here presented were originally meant for priests, to provide them with material for meditation and with exhortation in their work, still they will benefit religious .and others 278 September: 1954 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS as well. The brevity of the articles (few run over five pages) and the pleasing variety of subjects included (Holy Spirit, Sacred Heart, B1. Virgin, St. Joseph, Apostolate, Prayer, Virtues, Liturgy) m

Issue 57.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1998. ; religious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 1 Review for Religious is a forum for. shared reflection on the lived experience~ of all who find, that the church's rich heritages of gpirituality support their personal and apostolic ¯ Christian lives. The articles in ~he journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (1SSN 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) cbntained 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 perxnission 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 r ligiou$ Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents 34 48 leadership Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era Sandra M. Schneiders IHM offers an analysis of changing worldviews as an aid to understanding present-day religious congregations and exercising effective leadership in them. Leadership for the Common Good Donna J. Markham OP focuses on three areas of leadership skill development: conflict management, guarding against "groupthink," and promoting communal efficacious action. Hearts Afire: Leadership in the New Millennium Anne Munley IHM sees congregational leadership as being the work of impassioned hearts sharing, finding, and making meaning in concert with all the members, with a view to warm cooperation in endeavors of burning urgency. 60 67 tradition Stability: A Monastic Charism Retrieved Joel Rippinger OSB explores stability as a matter of heart and place in the light of contemporary rootedness. History's Role in Defining Spiritual Direction Steve R. Wigall proposes that contemporary spiritual direction needs to embrace openly its historical and theological variety. Review for Religious 77 88 prayer Today's Contemplative Prayer Forms: Are They Contemplation? Ernest E. Larkin OCarm takes a discerning look at contemporary personal prayer practice and terminology against the background of centuries-long traditions. Union with God according to John of the Cross Paul J. Bernadicou SJ describes some aspects of the sanjuanist process towards intimacy with God. departments 4 Prisms 94 Canonical Counsel: Life Consecrated by Profession of the Evangelical Counsels 100 Book Reviews Jant~aty-Februat~ 1998 I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver of life. prisms 4 T citizens of the United States in recent years have been reinforcing a reputation for being a people that has lost its sense of the sanctity of human life. After a brief lull in the use of the death penalty for what is considered heinous crimes, more and more individual states have been seeking execution for serious crimes committed by both men and women. Then, when we look to the beginning of life, we find that abortion in the United States, even in late term, is justified through the most permissive legal understanding allowed by any Western nation. Finally, when we consider the possible end of life, assisted suicide for the elderly or for the chron-ically ill is already legal in one state and is being promoted by a number of people who defend what is euphemisti-cally called "mercy killing." As we come ~o the last years of this millennium, this most powerful, prosperous, and well-educated nation is sadly being identified as a people that readily "takes life." The year 1998 focuses upon the Holy Spirit in our Christian preparations for entering into the third millen-nium guided by the pastoral plan presented to us by Pope John Paul. Whatever the strength of our faith, the Holy Spirit is the Trinitarian Person most difficult for us to talk about, t9 imagine, and to relate to. Spirit, breath, wind, love, fire are words that in themselves have no face nor even a substance that can be grasped. And yet these are some of the common, traditional words applied to the One we call the Third Person of our Trinitarian God. We might, though, begin this second year of our preparations for the millennium by calling in prayer upon the Spirit by a name appropriate to the times in which we live. Review for Religious In the Nicene Creed we express our belief in the Person called the Holy Spirit, professing first that he is Lord God and then designating this Person as "the Giver of life." What a wonderful identity--Giver of life--especially in regard to a people earning a reputation as "takers of life." It seems obvious that a basic gift we seek from God in this year 1998 is a renewed reverence, respect, and appreciation for human life. Throughout this year, perhaps we all need an examination of conscience on behavior involving us as "takers of life." "Takers of life" can involve an attitude which sullies our approach to any part of God's creation--each part a gift from God. We can become so self-centered that everything--from the ecological environ-ment to the earth's resources to human life itself--is viewed in its value now for us. Takers of life know no gratitude, for life is not seen in terms of gifting but only in terms of getting, a disease of a consumer society. Let us pray that the Holy Spirit will inspire and guide our efforts to be, like God, gi,vers of life. The age-old prayer still speaks out our desire: "Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful." Review for Religious continues to have its own experience of life being given to us. New life continues to flow into our Advisory Board as some members finish their term of service, and new members join. We welcome Sister Kathryn Richards FSP, vice-provincial of the USA province of the Daughters of St. Paul and executive director of the twenty Pauline Book and Media Centers in the USA and English-speaking Canada. She is also the direc-tor of Paulinas Distribudora, the Daughters' Hispanic media dis-tribution center, and the director of the National Association of Pauline Cooperators, the lay collaborators of the Daughters of St. Paul. In addition we welcome Bishop Carlos Sevilla SJ, bishop of the diocese of Yakima, Washington. Bishop Sevilla serves as a member of the NCCB committees on Hispanic affairs and on religious life and ministry. Before his ordination as bishop, he had filled administration and formation roles in the Society of Jesus (California province). Farewells are always harder to express than welcomes. I want to express my appreciation to Father Edmundo Rodriguez SJ and to Sister Iris Ann Ledden $SND for their many contributions to the advisory board over the years of their service. We remain grateful for their continuing interest and support. David L. Fleming SJ January-Febr~,aot 1998 o o o o o o leadership SANDRA M. SCHNEIDERS Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era In addressing the issue of leadership in congregations which are increasingly influenced by the emergence of cultural postmodernism, I write not as one who is engaged in leadership or trained in the fields of organization and management, but as a theologian reflecting on the spiri-tuality of contemporary religious. But part of my prepa-ration for these reflections involved talking with a number of religious in leadership positions, asking them what were the major challenges they faced as leaders. One woman, by means of a highly symbolic vignette, epitomized what many others expressed. She said that, if one prepared an agenda for a meeting far enough ahead of time for the participants to come prepared, the first item on the agenda would be the revision of the agenda because the actual situation in the congregation would have changed so sig-nificantly that neither the items on the agenda nor their relative importance would be what they had been when the agenda was formulated. In other words, the challenges about which leaders talked were not so much specific problems but pandemic unpredictability and uncontrol-lability. While leaders face particular challenges because of Sandra M. Schneiders IHM presented this paper, here slightly revised, to the Leadership Conference of Woxnen Religious on 23 August 1997 in Rochester, New York. She is professor of New Testament Studies and Christian Spirituality at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, where her address is JSTB; 1735 LeRoy Avenue; Berkeley, California 94709. Review for Religious their public role and more global responsibilities, the situation which makes leadership so difficult today is the same one all of us in religious life face, namely, the context of chaos within which we are trying to live religious life coherently and minister effectively. It is this peculiarly contemporary experience and its significance for spirituality that requires analysis and engagement. Whether or not we articulate it explicitly, we are always living, thinking, working within and out of some implicit worldview which defines both the problems and the potentialities of our historical situation.~ Until we come to some understanding of that world-view, we stand little chance of developing an operative spirituality. How we understand reality in general, religious life in particular, and our own congregation specifically determines what we think we are doing as religious leaders or followers. A worldview is like light or a pair of glasses. We do not notice its role in what and how we see until it flickers or gets cloudy. Furthermore, until relatively recently we were unaware of the plurality of worldviews because we thought that what we saw was simply what is, rather than what is visible through a particular set of lenses which not everyone in the world is wearing. Until the mid-sixties Catholics in general and religious in particular lived within a peculiarly schizophrenic worldview whose intrinsic con-tradictions seldom came clearly into view. Within the institution and culture of the cht~rch, we lived out of a medieval worldview in which society was organized according to an ontologically based, and therefore unchangeable, hierarchy of status and roles; in which all reality could and must be explained in the categories of an Aristotelian/Thomistic philosophy and the-ology; and in which the next world, and therefore religion, held a clear priority over the present world and its concerns. However, outside the church arena we lived out of a modern worldview in which democratic capitalism constructed an economically com-petitive society within a deceptive rhetoric of personal equality. The explanation of reality in this modern world was supplied by the confluence of the dualistic philosophy of Descartes, the mechanistic physics of Newton, the deterministic biology of Darwin, and the materia.listic hydraulics of Freudian psychology. The practical priority of this world over the afterlife was expressed in the banishing of religious concerns from public life to the pri-vate realm of family and church. Although these two worldviews, medieval and modern, were Januat3,-Februat~y 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality largely incompatible, what they had in common may be more sig-nificant for our present considerations than how they differed. Both of these worldviews presented chaos as the ultimate enemy and order as the ultimate good. It is hardly surprising, then, that we are uncomfortable to the point of panic amid the unpre-dictability and uncontrollability of so much of our experience today. And, the more people, property, and projects we are respon-sible for, the more threatening and even paralyzing widespread chaos in our domain of responsibility is likely to be. However, as cultural critics are increasingly convinced, the modern worldview itself is rapidly giving way to what is being called postmodernirm, a worldview that is still largely inchoate and unarticulated, but which is actually conditioning our experience more deeply and extensively than we can yet appreciate.2 Characteristic of this emerging worldview is what is being called the "new science" or quantum physics,3 which is not only calling into question the adequacy of Newtonian science to explain the natural or physical world, but implying the necessity for a new, cosmologically based philosophy that sees much deeper connec-tions between matter and spirit, between humans and the rest of reality, between this world and whatever transcends it.4 Implied in the collapse of the classical dualisms is ~i revisioning of chaos and order which may open up some possibilities for reinterpreting our present experience within religious life. Although I have been reading voraciously in the new science for a while, I do not claim to understand, much less be able to explain, quantum physics. What I want to do, however, is to use a few of its basic categories, namely, autopoietic structures, fields, and strange attractors, as metaphors for thinking about contem-porary experience in religious congregations. After exploring these categories from the new science in relation to religious life, I will try to make'some suggestions that are theologically sound, spir-itually vital, and culturally plausible about our current experience of religious life and leadership. Autopoietic Structures Margaret Wheatley, in her wonderfully provocative book Leadership and the New Science, brings together new ideas from biology, chemistry, and quantum physics which are analogous in suggesting that order and chaos are not contradictories, but that Review for Religious order emerges from chaos as from its matrix,s Furthermore, con-trol is not synonymous with order nor does it produce stability. Rather, control causes a deadly immobility or stasis which ulti-mately dooms the structure to disintegration. This phenomenon of the constructive relationship between chaos and order is characteristic of living organisms. Erich Jantsch, whom Wheatley cites, describes autopoiesis as "the characteristic of liv-ing systems [by which they] continu-ously renew themselves and., regulate this process in such a way that the integrity of their structure is main-tained.'' 6 In other words, living things maintain their integrity and identity not by eliminating change, but by continu-ous, dynamic interaction with their environment. It is equilibrium, not change, that is fatal! However, the history of religious life in the United States from the 19th century until Vatican II was character-ized by steadily increasing equilibrium and control and steadily decreasing interaction with the environment.7 After the chaotic pioneering days--when our founders and foundresses braved the rigors of frontier life using everything that came to hand, secular and profane included, to survive personally and institutionally-- American religious life settled into a rigidly defined and tightly controlled pattern within an increasingly battened-down eccle-siastical institution. Interchange with the environment was ever more stringently controlled and, to the extent possible, elimi-nated. We understood our congregations as Newtonian machine-like systems composed of virtually identical parts, operating according to established laws of motion codified in Rules and. customs books and functioning best when no part acted in orig-inal, that is, "singular" ways. Leaders functioned somewhat like factory managers maintaining strict control (erroneously seen as order) for the sake of spiritual and ministerial efficiency. Newtonian physics, which supplied this machine model for all systems, also gave us the laws of thermodynamics which gov-ern such systems. The second law of thermodynamics tells us that, when a system reaches equilibrium, entropy or disintegration We are uncomfortable to the point of panic amid the unpredictability and uncontrollability of so mucl of our experience today. Janllary-Februaty 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality sets in. We moderns learned that this law of increasing entropy or the inevitable wearing down of systems was also characteristic of living things (which we understood as basically very complicated machines) and certainly true of organizations such as religious congregations.8 What the new science is telling us is that social organizations are not entropic like machines, but more like living organisms, which are autopoietic, that is, self-renewing. The basis of autopoiesis or self-re-creation is the openness of organisms to their environment. As Wheatley says, Each structure has a unique identity, a clear boundary, yet it is merged with its environment . What we observe. ¯ in all living entities, are boundaries that both preserve us from and connect us to the infinite complexity of the out-side world. Autopoiesis, then, points to a different universe. Not the fragile, fragmented world we attempt to hold together, but a universe rich in processes that support growth and coherence, individuality and community.9 When we look at religious congregations of the 1950s, we see relatively hermetically sealed organizations operating accord-ing to the quantitative laws of mechanics. Numbers, material resources, institutional agencies of influence, and hierarchical control of all operations were the sources of efficiency. The cat-aclysm of Vatican II and its immediate predecessors in religious life such as the Sister Formation Movement suddenly opened these closed systems to their environment. New information of all kinds flooded the system. Sisters studied new disciplines in secu-lar as well as religious universities and interacted with a variety of people they formerly would never have encountered in any mean-ingful way. The mass media and the uncensored contents of libraries burst through the boundaries of the closed system. And then Vatican II called on congregations to reevaluate those old-world traditions which had so effectively kept religious out of the mainstream of American culture. Ministries changed dramatically and, with them, living situations. Contacts with other religious and with the laity, stringently rationed in previous times, broad-ened and deepened. In short, religious congregations suddenly drew deep breaths of fresh air and discovered that they were not ecclesiastical robots but sociospiritual organisms, living systems in vital interaction with their environment. Increasingly congregations, and their relatively uniform mem-bers, began to exhibit the characteristics of autopoietic structures. Review for Religious Perhaps the most unsettling characteristic is that a healthy liv-ing system is in a continuous state of disequilibrium. New infor-mation, constantly flowing into the system from the environment, challenges it to respond, to change, and to develop without loss of integrity or identity. There is no settling down, no way to call off the bombardment of the new and just be. There are no per-manently right answers, no one correct way to do things, no abso-lute authority. The organism is always off balance. Local chaos is the normal condition out of which global order is continuously being both threatened and resourced. Another characteristic of autopoietic structures, precisely because they are not in balance but precariously poised in the turbulence of a constantly changing ambiance, is that very small influences can have very significant effects on the system. In mechan-ical entities, significant change is usually proportionate to the mass of the influencing agents. Large groups, sizable funds, long-range plans are necessary to alter the status quo. But in a living system a small agent, for example, a virus, can have tremendous impact because it can galvanize the whole organism into response.'° The effect of one book like The Nun in the Modern World, or one speaker like Theresa Kane, is out of all proportion to the mass of the cause. One person generating negative energy can immobilize a whole assembly while one visionary chapter pro-posal can propel the whole congregation into self-renewal. A third feature of living systems is that they are programmed toward life. In this respect they are the very antithesis of the machine. Once entropy has set in, the machine inevitably and irreversibly winds down toward disintegration.11 But, even when very diminished, very endangered, the living system is mobilized toward self-renewal, toward regeneration. I think the merging of some small communities and the combining of facilities among others are examples of this salmonqike burst of upstream energy characteristic of open systems. Fourth, self-organizing systems'are bundles of competencies, "portfolios of skills," rather than collections of optimally func-tioning units,lz This feature has been ve.ry prominent in post-conciliar congregations. V~rhen individual religious or congregations decide that a particular institution or form of ministry no longer responds to the environment and they reconfigure competencies to meet new needs, it seems to me that they are manifesting an organic self-understanding, not, as some seem to think, a des- January-February 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality perate need to' find something useful to do until the corporate lights go out. Fifth, as Wheatley says, self-r~newing systems are "structures that seem capable of maintaining an identity while changing form. They exhibit "global stability" over time even as their subsystems undergo enormous, seemingly chaotic, change. I was struck by this feature of living systems when I first saw the Great Barrier Reef, the largest organism on earth. This enormous living sys-tem has a form that makes it so distinct from its oceanic envi-ronment that it is even recognizable from the moon, and yet every cell of its vast expanse is undergoing incessant change. Most reli-gious can remember the stupendous resistance to even minor, external changes in religious congregations on the eve of Vatican II. We could hardly conceive of a maintenance of identity through incessant change, and any attempt to engage the environment seemed like a sellout to secularity. But autopoietic structures main-tain their identity precisely by changing in response to environ-mental influence. Obviously not all living systems survive, much less thrive. What determines whether an organism will successfully negotiate what Wheatley calls the "bifurcation point" where the choice between death and transformation occurs? ~4 Wheatley maintains that the deciding factor is what she calls the principle of "self-ref-erence." Healthy organisms do not change randomly or in any and all directions. Rather, they change in ways that are both respon-sive to the environment arid consistent with their own already established identity. A firmly established identity makes the organ-ism both responsive and resilient, both dialogical and autonomous. Whereas a static system constructs external boundaries, fences designed to keep out the influence of the environment and hold the assemblage of units together, the healthy organism develops organic boundaries which make it increasingly autonomous in relation to external pressures even as it remains deeply involved in the ongoing process of iriterchange. Unlike a fence which sim-ply walls out the "other," the organic surface of the Great Barrier Reef is both a resource for relationship with the environment and a self-defining boundary. "Self-reference is what facilitates orderly change in turbulent environments.''~5 This raises directly the question of identity. If religious life itself, religious congregations, and individual religious are open, autopoietic systems whose incessant interaction with the envi- Review for Religious ronment is governed by the principle of self-reference, that is, fidelity to core identity in the midst of continual disequilibrium, what establishes that identity? How is it recognized and main-tained? Fields To begin to get some purchase on this issue, I want to intro-duce a second metaphor from the new science, the familiar but mysterious category of "field." Religious life has always involved the creation by some Christians, "religious virtuosi" in the ter-minology of sociologist Patricia Wittberg,'6 of an alternative "world" within which to live their faith, whether that was a sociologi-cal, geographical, or institutional reality construction.~7 The expres-sion so often used for entering reli-gious life, namely, "leaving the world," was a negative articulation of the positive act of choosing an alternative arena for one's life. Today, speaking of entering reli-gious life as "leaving the world" is so probleinatic as to be counterpro-ductive. Nevertheless, there is something about religious life which distinguishes it from other forms of life. It has an identity. Like the Great Barrier Reef, it stands out from its cultural and ecclesiastical environment even while being involved in continu-ous interchange with it. Perhaps a better metaphor or model for understanding the identity of religious life than the quasi-geo-graphical one of alternative world is the category of "fields." Science has made us aware that reality is composed not pri-marily of substances but of space. Space, however, is not empty. Rather, "space everywhere is now thought to be filled with fields, invisible, non-material structures that are the basic substance of the universe."ls Fields are invisible geometries structuring space, invisible media of connection bringing matter an&or energy into form. We cannot see fields any more than we can see space, but we can observe the effects of fields on that which comes within their influence. We have all seen this mysterious phenomenon in operation when iron filings come within the field of magnetic Perhaps a better metaphor or model for understanding the identity of religious life is the category of "fields." January-Februaty 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality influence and arrange themselves in certain patterns. Wheatley hypothesizes that personal and corporate space is also filled with fields, both positive and negative, and that, when the personal fields of the people in an organization intersect with the corpo-rate fields of the organization itself, certain predictable behav-iors are manifest. I find this metaphor very descriptive of a frequently experi-enced phenomenon, namely, that the same people behave very differently in situations which do not, exteriorly, differ notice-ably. Something "in the air" (or, perhaps more accurately, "in the space") affects them, for good or ill, and often everyone in the situation is similarly affected. We sometimes call it morale, or good or bad energy, or social climate. Sometimes we even speak of being "in good or bad space." We also know that an individual who is personally "in bad space" either can be pulled out of it by entering positive corporate space or can cause positive space to curdle. Social space, in our experience, seems to be really invisi-bly structured. Perhaps this metaphor of fields could help illuminate the issues of corporate and personal identity that religious have strug-gled with for years under the rubrics of "charism" and "vocation" and their intersection in the mysterious corporate identity prin-ciple called the "spirit of the congregation." Probably the only thing we have agreed on in regard to charism is that it is a mys-terious something that generates a certain recognizable congre-gational identity. Some have tried to equate it with the congregation's traditional ministry, or to identify it as a grace given to the foundress which was somehow passed on to later members, or to find it embodied in a characteristic spirituality. None of these explanations has proved very satisfactory, and all fail in relation to one or another congregation. Wheatley suggests that social fields are generated as people converse, share their visions and hopes, work out their problems, develop modes of interacting, participate in common projects, elaborate symbols and myths to articulate their shared identity and experience?9 In other words, groups create or generate fields. When coherent fields are generated in corporate space, people are drawn together; they begin to act in corporate ways. Eventually the group ethos can be recognized in the members. This sounds very much like what we mean by charism, an invis-ible structuring of corpor.ate space which manifests itself in the Review for Religious indefinable "something common" that is visible in the attitudes and behaviors of all the members. Furthermore, fields, once gen-erated, can outlast the individuals or groups that generated them. Perhaps what comes down through history from our foundations is not some work, set of rules, or uniform spirituality to which new members must conform, but a structured shared space that continues to give common form to ever new energy coming into the congregation in new members. When a new individual comes into this space, her own per-sonal fields intersect with the corporate fields of the congregation and the person is either drawn into and ener-gized by this cgrporate space or not. If vocation were understood as a certain constellation of overlapping fields in an individual personality's inner space, structuring that person's energy and behavior, her entering a congregation would involve the intersection of her personal vocational field with the fields of the particular congregation, especially its charism. Vocational discernment could be understood, then, as try-ing to discover if her personal fields and the congregation's corporate fields are mutually compatible and enriching or not. When the fields that structure the inner space of an individual (that is, her own voca-tion or life call) intersect creatively and har-moniously with the fields that structure the corporate space of a congregation (that is, its charism and other characteristic fea-tures), we often say that the person has "the spirit of the congre-gation." When the members of a congregation are together in "good space," they often feel "the spirit of the congregation." Perhaps what we mean by the spirit of the congregation is the global identity of the group as it manifests itself within the complex of fields that invisibly but really structures the personal into the cor-porate. 2° To use this field metaphor for understanding charism, voca-tion, and the spirit of the congregation does not reduce these realities to the purely natural any more than accounting for the universe by the theory of the "big bang" or for human emergence by evolution denies the divine role in creation. The metaphor simply offers us a more organic way of understanding the human When the members of a congregation are together in "good space," they often feel "the spirit of the congregation." Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality experience of stable and shared congregational identity in the midst of incessant change. It also provides a possible answer to the question about self-reference as the key to coherence for an open, autopoietic sys-tem experiencing continuous life-giving disequilibrium. In a sense, nothing observable in the congregation remains the same--type of ministry, horarium and content of spiritual exercises, commu-nity lifestyle, dress codes, financial practices, patterns ~of inter-acting-- but the field, the spirit of the congregation, in which all the change takes place can account for the ever new order which arises out of the seemingly chaotic pluralism and incessant vari-ation that characterize the community's day-to-day life over time. The Strange Attractor A third possibly illuminating metaphor, drawn from the new science, is that of the "strange attractor," a simple example of which many of us have seen as the computer screen saver of inces-santly changing lines and curves which maintain a moving form that is never repeated. Wheatley says this about the "strange attractor": Chaos theory has given us images of "strange attractors"-- computer pictures of swirling motion that trace the evolu-tion of a system. A system is defined as chaotic when it becomes impossible to know where it will be next. There is no predictability; the system never is in the same place twice. But as chaos theory shows, if we look at such a sys-tem long enough and with the perspective of time, it always demonstrates its inherent orderliness. The most chaotic of systems never goes beyond certain boundaries; it stays con-tained within a shape that we can recognize as the system's strange attractor . '~ This description seems very pertinent to the history of religious life, not to mention that of individual congregations. Religious life has undergone so much movement, so much deep-level change, that it is indeed impossible to know where it will be next. It is never in the same place twice. At times it seems to be in total disarray. And yet, over its nearly two-thousand-year history, it demonstrates a moving pattern which makes it recognizable, distinguishable against the background field of ecclesial life. What, we may ask, is the strange attractor of religious life? A strange attractor is a basin for the system's activity that Review for Religious pulls all activity within the system into a form or shape but with-out immobilizing the system or reducing its inner variety to pre-dictability. The strange attractor itself is not visible. It manifests itself by its power to allow a few simple "instructions," for exam-ple, equations, to repeat and intersect as they feed back upon themselves in an infinite variety of ways so that these iterations create analogous forms at finer and finer levels. These forms are what we call fractals, repetitions at various levels of scale that manifest the whole in each part. Our most homely example is probably a head of broccoli in which each flowerette, down to the tiniest, repeats the pattern of the whole head. But we can see it also in the computer image of lines and curves, or in the clouds, or in a branch of fern. VVheatley was moved to ask the question about the strange attractor when she observed that, in terminally dysfunctional sys-tems verging on collapse, where almost everyone had psycholog-ically abandoned ship and survival had become the only agenda, there were some individuals within the dysfunctional system who continued to be personally centered, creative, and productive. Amid corporate disintegration, personal order. She also observed--in healthy organizations which allowed maximum autonomy, even seeming chaos, at the local level--that the seem-ingly chaotic variety at the local level did not lead to disintegra-tion, but to a kind of global order and stability. Out of local chaos, global order. Somehow the creative individuals in the disinte-grating systems and the healthy organizations permitting high levels of local autonomy were pulled into coherence as if a strange attractor were at work. Her highly suggestive conclusion is that the strange attractor in both cases is meaning generated by a "frame of reference," that is, a coherent vision and pattern of val-ues, which gives direction to all the seemingly disparate activity. Meaning, vision, values, however, are formal categories. What vision, what values, what meaning might be the strange attractor of religious life that accounts for its self-identity and coherence, its fractal wholeness and beauty, through nearly two millennia of chaotic movement in an often dysfunctional church?22 More importantly, is the strange attractor still at work, still generating a recognizable lifeform today in what might be one of the most chaotic periods of development in the history of religious life? Are there a few "equations" that have iterated throughout these two millennia in thousands of different fractal realizations man- January-February 1998 Schneiders * Congregational Leadership and Spirituality ifesting the strange attractor that keeps this lifeform coherent and true to itself?. From the time of the lst-century virgins until it was pro-claimed anew by Vatican II, the basic principle, the fundamental "equation," has been that religious life is essentially gospel life. The pattern of the life has been the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ, perhaps the ultimate instance of order out of chaos, that is, life out of death. Of course, religious life shares this deter-mining equation with all Christian life. But religious life has also always been distinguished from lay Christian life by the particu-lar way religious have entered into the paschal mystery of Christ, by the specifically religious "equation," namely, by the life of con-secrated celibacy lived in community and mission. The strange attractor of religious life, then, may be a partic-ular kind of gospel-based relationship with Jesus Christ, expressed in freely chosen lifelong celibacy, lived in community and mis-sion, that has generated a lifeform which is distinct and recog-nizable despite enormous variety. It has reinvented itself endlessly, but from a distance and over time we can note the repeated pat-terns, its fractal wholeness. The effect of the strange attractor is a global stability and self-identity through incessant change, a particular and recognizable order out of chaos. Christian Spirituality and Congregational Leadership If these metaphors .drawn from the new science--that is, the congregation as an open and autopoietic system invisibly structured by the corporate fields that manifest in the spirit of the congre-gation within the shaping influence of the strange attractor of celi-bate living of the Gospel in community and mission--are illuminating of our current experience of religious life in our par-ticular congregations, we can ask what light they throw on the problematic of leadership. Does such a postmodern model of reli-gious life based on metaphors drawn from the new science suggest anything helpful in understanding what leadership in such sys-tems might mean today? Obviously, the image of the leader as manager whose task is to minimize disequilibrium by control of all personnel, policy, and practice is obsolete. But probably the image of the leader as the lone visionary who boldly imagines and projects goals to gal-vanize the membership toward the future is also obsolete. This is Review for Religious not because care of the community and corporate vision are not as important today as they have always been, but because we increasingly realize that they are the shared responsibility of the entire congregation.23 What is characteristic of the context of leadership today is that the kinds of systems over which leaders preside are situations which are not only uncontrollable in fact, but chaotic in principle. Chaos is the system's "steady state." Whatever leaders do today, it cannot be imagined realistically as merely the direction of reliable resources toward clearly perceived objec-tives. It has to have something to do with the creative potential of chaos itself. Even while managing the modern social systems that our congregations, at one level, certainly are, leaders are chal-lenged to engage the deep dynamics of meaning in the increasingly postmodern systems that we are becoming. It seems to me that religious life today is at the bifurcation point between death and transformation, between entropy and self-renewal, and therefore that the responsibility of leaders in relation to the deep dynamics of meaning has to do with the prin-ciple of self-reference which Wheatley identifies as the most impor-tant single determinant of self-renewal in autopoietic structures.24 The science of autopoietic systems suggests that, if the congre-gation (or religious life as a lifeform) is true to itself, in touch with and living out of its own identity, it will continue to renew itself even in the face of the massive material and ecclesiastical challenges of this historical period. If it is the case that the iden-tity of religious life lies in the celibate living of the gospel in com-munity and mission within the spirit of the particular congregation, we are at the heart of the issue. And the issue is faith. In what follows I am relying heavily on a remarkable 1995 study by a British theologian, Denys Turner, of the apophatic ele-ment in the Christian mystical tradition.2s In this book Turner is dealing with what I suspect is the most challenging issue for all of us in religious life today, but perhaps especially for those charged with the care of the community as a whole, namely, the mean-ing, reality, and integrity of Christian faith today. Religious life is fundamentally a faith reality, and the faith in question is not simply a generalized conviction that there is more to reality than meets the eye. Christian faith is both an unthe-matized openness to the ineffable Divine Mystery that has no name and a thematized participation in a particular religious tra- t--!-9- January-Februa~3~ 1998 Scisneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality 20 dition which believes that this Holy Mystery is both revealed and encountered in Jesus of Nazareth risen from the dead whose life is communicated to us in and through the gift of his Holy Spirit within the community called church. A major question today for Christians, including religious, and especially women, is whether these two aspects of faith, unthematized openness to Divine Mystery (which is not necessarily Christian) and thematic adher-ence to a particular religious tradition (namely, Christianity), are or need necessarily be related and, if they are related, how that can be personally experienced and authentically lived. Many postmodern Christians are caught in an experiential disjunction between their God-experience on the one hand and, on the other, their participation in the particular faith tradition, that is, the religion, within which they were initiated into that God-experience and which still claims to mediate it. In other words, there is an experienced disjunction between spirituality as lived faith experience and religion as articulated tradition. This may be partially due to the sudden (at least historically speaking) reversal of our evaluation of the role of experience in spirituality that coincided with the upheavals in religion of the conciliar era. Let me trace this development in broad strokes. For several centuries Christians were educated to discount feeling in the practice of religion in favor of a kind of blind faith and naked exercise of will. It was not the person who believed but the intellect; not the person who loved but the will. The body with its emotions was that which had to be overcome and sub-jected in order for the soul to seek God. This approach to the spiritual life, which effectively reduced spirituality to religious practice, was seriously challenged by at least three developments in the middle of this century. First, for all kinds of reasons that were psychological and cul-tural as well as theological, the radical wholeness of the human person began to resurface, and many believers began to reclaim the importance, perhaps even priority, of feeling in religious prac-tice. Retreat directors learned to ask people how they felt, not what they thought. Retreatants learned to be attentive to subjec-tive states of consolation .and desolation. Discernment began to take into account the person's felt response to alternative possi-bilities. Rather than considering felt religious experience unreli-able or even suspect, people began to consider it the touchstone, even the essence, of genuine spirituality. Desiring such experi- Review for Religious ence, seeking it, trusting it, living from it was no longer an aber-ration but the norm. Second, the feminist movement took hold among Catholic women, and its analysis of patriarchy enabled women to name and claim their experience of oppression in the church and to trace ecclesiastical sexism to its theological roots in Scripture and tradition. Women's experience of the Catholic religious tradition became laced with negative feeling just as they were learning that feeling was not irrelevant, but a valid and important indicator of the real. Many concluded that, if Catholic religion feels deeply alienating, Catholic spirituality may be highly suspect. Third, Catholics, for the first time, came into meaningful appreciative contact with non-Christian religious traditions where they encountered spiritualities that counteracted some of the very aspects of Christianity that were becoming increasingly problematic. The nature-affirming rituals of native American spirituality countered the overcerebral otherworldliness of traditional Catholic wor-ship. The nondualistic, nondogmatic meditation practices of Eastern mystical traditions offered an attractive alternative to the rationalistic and mechanical prayer practices of ordinary Catholic piety. Thus, at the very time that experience was becoming the touchstone of truth in the sphere of religion, both negative and positive experiences in the realm of spirituality converged to undermine adherence to the Roman Catholic Christian tradition. This has led some, perhaps many, religious to seriously question whether Catholic Christianity offers an adequate, much less a preferable, access to Holy Mystery or compelling motivation for ministry. For many the God of Christianity seems too small, too violent, and too male; the focus on Jesus Christ seems narrow and exclusive; the resurrection seems mythological if not incred-ible and, in any case, irrelevant to a world in anguish; the insti-tutional church seems hopelessly medieval, sexist, and clerical; liturgy is alienating; morality is out of touch with reality; and church ministry is a continual battle with male hostility and power There is an experienced disjunction between spirituality as lived faith experience and religion as articulated tradition. Januao~-FebruaO, 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality dynamics. Spirituality centered in personal experience was increas-ingly engrossing while religion, especially the Catholic religion, was increasingly alienating. After a certain amount of experimentation, many religious have settled into a kind of personal, often highly eclectic, spiri-tuality within the context of a nominal Christianity whose central tenets and practices are of little practical import in their lives. Their God may no longer be the God of Jesus Christ, but a non-personal, benevolent cosmic energy holding reality together in some mysterious way. Jesus may have been consigned to history as one of many prophetic figures whose memory remains moti-vating although they themselves are long dead. The Bible may no longer be, for them, revelatory or normative Scripture, but one religious classic among others. Christian sacraments may be quarries of symbolic elements which can be combined with anal-ogous elements from other traditions in the formulation of mean-ingful rituals. Prayer may be any practice from listening to music, to Zen sitting or Tai Chi, to hiking or massage which is calming and focusing and helps one keep a balance in a crazy world. In religious communities the effect of these developments in spirituality is profoundly disintegrative. It can no longer be taken for granted that the members share the same faith, a serious sit-uation for a lifeform which is based not only on faith but specif-ically on Christian faith. Members for whom Christian faith remains normative may hesitate to speak in explicitly Christian terms lest they be branded reactionary or dismissed as out of. touch with contemporary reality, while post-Christian or selec-tively Christian members may hesitate to voice their spirituality lest they shock their hearers or find themselves branded as heretics. Christian liturgical celebration at congregational events is sometimes so divisive as to be impossible. Nevertheless, wherever they are on the Christian map, reli-gious women continue to be resolutely religious, seeking God in disciplined spiritual practice, making retreats, engaging seriously in spiritual direction, reading widely and deeply in theology and spirituality, attending workshops and renewal programs. Those religious who have survived the postconciliar exodus and are still committed to both community and ministry are not indifferent to the God quest that brought them to religious life in the first place. This is the point at which the disjuncture between spirituality which is a matter of passionate concern and religion which is a Review for Religious locus of struggle and alienation is apparent; and, in my opinion, this may be the bifurcation point at which the choice between death and transformation is going to be made. We cannot afford to ignore this situation or pretend it does not really matter as long as people are sincere and committed. What is in jeopardy is not control but self-reference, the con-gregation's response to its strange attrac-tor, that is, to religious life itself as a faith reality. It seems to me that what many reli-gious are attempting is not to dispense with faith, but to find God in a kind of personal mystical quest that bypasses what are experienced as the superficiali-ties and hypocrisies, and even the vio-lence, of the official structures of institutional Catholic Christianity. In par-ticular, many are trying to find in the Christian mystical tradi-tion itself guidance for developing an apophatic or nonthematic contemplative spirituality that is experientially satisfying and moti-vating, but that bypasses the concreteness of the Christian cat-aphatic tradition with its specifically religious beliefs, liturgy, and practice. In short, it is an attempt to develop a spirituality with-out religion. Denys Turner wrote his treatise on the Christian mystical tradition, The Darkness of God, as a challenge to this contemporary development, which he calls spiritual "experientialism" and which he sees as widespread among Christians in general. Turner regards this experientialism as a kind of modernist positivism in the arena of spirituality. In other words, felt religious experience has become the "hard data" of authentic spirituality analogous to the observ-able results of laboratory experiments in modern science or the quantifiable data of sociological surveys. Personal experience has become the nonnegotiable criterion of validity in the arena of faith.26 The practice of contemplation, yielding direct experience of either the delightful presence or the painful absence of Holy Mystery, has become for many the sufficient, if mir~imal, structure, content, and dynamics of their spirituality, augmented perhaps by a symbolic and ritual eclecticism that draws from various reli-gious and nonreligious traditions. This experience of Holy Mystery is believed to be "apophatic," that is, unencumbered by What many religious are attempting is not to dispense with faith, but to develop a spirituality without religion. January-February 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality specific religious doctrines, images, symbols, liturgical traditions, and so on. Against this misguided turn to experience Turner maintains, with impressive support from the data of the tradition, that there is no such thing as "apophatic experience." This is a contradiction in terms. The experience of the absence of God is just as much an experience, that is, just as cataphatic, as is the experience of God's presence even though it might be less enjoyable. It is the quest for mystical experience itself, and especially reliance upon it as the touchstone of faith, which is the problem, Turner maintains. Furthermore, following Bernard McGinn, Turner points out that no one who is serious about the God quest, especially not the mys-tics (at least not until very recent times), attempts to "practice mys-ticism." People practice Christianity or Buddhism or Judaism.27 The mystical is a moment in the practice of these traditions, but there is no freestanding mysticism or pure apophatic practice. The development of this kind of experience-oriented, reli-giously decontextualized spirituality has been encouraged in recent years by a tendency in popular books on spirituality to talk of an apophatic and a cataphatic "way" as if there were two types of spirituality, one of which, the cataphatic, proceeds through the use of the theological symbols, images, rituals, and practices of a religious tradition and one of which, the apophatic, makes no use of these "externals" and reaches directly to the Divine Mystery that transcends all human institutions.28 Furthermore, there has been a tendency to suggest that these "ways" are a matter of per-sonal choice and so one might decide to bypass the cataphatic and plunge into the darkness of the apophatic way, where God would be met in pure spiritual nakedness. There has been much talk of foolproof methods by which to achieve mystical empti-ness and union, often without or before any serious ascetical train-ing, theological formation, or liturgical involvement. What Turner exposes is the basic fallacy of this whole "expe-rientialist" turn in spirituality. All spirituality, insofar as it can be practiced or pursued, is cataphatic, and all religious experience is by definition cataphatic. The apophatic is not a "way" or a "prac-tice," much less a kind of "experience." It is a moment of negativity, of nonexperience, at the heart of genuine, ordinary religious faith and practice. This moment is, by definition, not something one can experience at all. The apophatic or mystical is precisely the neg-ativity, the total darkness which cannot itself be seen or felt. It is Review for Religious the absence of experience, the "hole" at the heart of religious expe-rience, the place of the Holy Mystery Which is utterly beyond our experiencing, attainment, knowing, or naming. Mysticism is not negative (or positive) religious experience, says Turner, but the negativity of all religious experience.2Vlf I can experience it at all, it is not God in Godself that I am experiencing. If Turner is right, this attempt to bypass religious practice of the Christian tradition in search of some direct experience of the Holy Mystery is wrongheaded and futile, and it can end only in self-delusion of the kind pilloried by the author of The Cloud of Unknowing.3°Insofar as the apophatic moment occurs, it is abso-lutely nonexperienceable and hidden. And it occurs only within the cataphatic context of resolutely faithful Christian practice, which may at times overflow in the exaltation of spiritual peak experiences or generate the psychologically devastating suffering of the "dark night" described by John of the Cross. But, as all the mystics have maintained, such graces of light or darkness are neither the content nor the criterion of genuine spirituality. As Turner says, the deformations of the "experientialist" derive . . . from the error of understanding that which is a "moment" of reserve, of denial and unknowing within worship, prayer and sacrament as if it were a rival practice which displaces that Christian ordinariness. "Experientialism" in its most extreme forms is therefore the displacement of a sense of the negativity of all religious experience with the pursuit of some goal of achieving negative experiences.3~ In other words, a purely mystical spirituality is not a viable alternative to full participation in the religious tradition. The mystical, insofar as it is spiritually significant and transformative (as opposed to momentary experiences of oceanic bliss which may be caused by any number of stimuli from drugs to trance) is available only within some ongoing, ordinary, everyday cataphatic practice. The alternative to being imprisoned within the rigidities of an overmaterialized tradition is not the flight into a disembodied, decontextualized, and individualistic pseudomysticism. The deeply interior life of the serious postmodern Christian requires the shaping influence of a tradition worked out over centuries by saints and scholars, mystics and martyrs, even as the tradition itself requires the critical challenge of its postmodern adherents, whose new insights into reality must refine the tradition of its historical dross. 25 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadersbip and Spirituality Let us return now to the framework of meaning that has sup-plied us with the important principle of self-reference. If the focus of self-reference of religious congregations and their members is the gospel-based celibate living of the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ in community and mission within the spirit of the partic-ular congregation, and if the self-renewal and continued flour-ishing of religious life and the particular congregation depend on this self-reference, then nothing is more important than the authenticity of the spirituality of religious. Obviously, people can form and live community and altruis-tically serve others without being either Christian or Catholic. And a religious congregation can certainly transform itself into such a community of life and service, leaving behind its specifically Catholic identity and affirming whatever religious affiliation, or lack thereof, its individual members espouse. That is, it can cease to be a religious congregation and continue as an intentional com-munity with or without religious roots?2 My concern is with con-gregations which have not, or not yet, made that choice, but are struggling to maintain their Catholic Christian identity in a highly dysfunctional ecclesiastical context. For such communities the quiet sidelining of Christian identity believed and practiced in the church is not compatible with their ongoing life and self-renewal as a religious congregation. And perhaps the most impor-tant task of leadership in such congregations is helping the congregation to negotiate the moment of bifurcation between congregational death through the abandonment of that identity and congregational transformation through the critical reappro-priation of its Christian identity. There can be no question, in a postmodern context, of deal-ing with this issue by fiat. The present state of spirituality in many religious congregations is highly chaotic, and attempting to abol-ish chaos by control is, as we have seen, the kiss of death. Hope lies not in the exercise of coercive power, but in the realization that the current disequilibrium is potentially far more creative than the kind of static uniformity that prevailed in the spiritual-ity of most preconciliar communities. But how do leaders facilitate the emergence of new spiritual order from religious chaos? The analogies from the new science suggest several possible leads. First, a climate has to be created in which divergent theological views and spiritual practices can rise to visibility and articulation and be seriously and respectfully Review for Religious engaged. The unspoken agreement not to talk about anything that could cause dissension and not to use any ritual with which someone might be uncomfortable--and to substitute therapeutic methods and organizational techniques for theological engage-ment with controversies in the area of faith--is analogous to main-taining tight managerial control in a dysfunctional organization. The upheaval in spirituality at the individual and local level needs to be articulated, recognized, and owned. Within it lies the poten-tial, not for a restoration of preconciliar uniformity of doctrine and practice, but for a self-renewing reclaiming of the tradition in very new, perhaps even startlingly new, forms. Any Christian!ty that can be relevant and life-giving in a postmodern context is simply not going to look like, or be like, the Catholicism of the Middle Ages or even of the 1950s. Second, the basic framework of meaning needs to be reartic-ulated, but in ways that take seriously the problems which have led to its practical collapse. This basic framework is the gospel in all its depth and breadth, and that means the theological and litur-gical, moral and socially transformative riches of the Christian tradition in dialogue with the postmodern culture emerging in our time. The Christian tradition that has become alienating for so many is not the gospel itself, but the moribund formulations of post-Tridentine Vatican institutionalism. The extraordinary response of so many, especially women religious, to the work of theologians like Elizabeth Johnson and Catherine LaCugna, bib-lical scholars like Carolyn Osiek and Elisabeth Schiissler Fiorenza, liturgists like Mary Catherine Hilkert, ecumenists like Rosemary Radford Ruether, moral theologians like Lisa Sowle Cahill, and scholars of spirituality like Constance FitzGerald and Joann Wolski Conn--along with the rediscovery of the Christian mys-tics themselves--suggests that the tradition has the potential to be reappropriated and renewed in feminist, ecological, and pluralis-tic patterns if the meeting between the postmodern religious and contemporary theology can be facilitated. A system converts local chaos to global order by the infusion of new information which can be appropriated within a coherent frame of reference. Access to theological resources and also deep engagement with the new science, feminist thought and practice, and ecological and social theory by all the members of a congregation would seem to be an absolute requirement for the development of an authentic post-modern Catholic Christian spirituality that would be adequate Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirit~tality for religious life in the 21st century. If religious develop such a spirituality, we can expect resistance from the official exercisers of institutional control. But, if religious fail to develop such a spir-ituality, we can expect religious congregations to disintegrate from within as their spirituality unravels and becomes a tangle of idiosyncratic and individualistic syncretisms. Third, the interaction between the whole and the parts has to be facilitated so that what is emerging in the spirituality of the members appears in a corporate spirituality that breaks the ver-bal and ritual silence at the global level and also transforms the global frame of reference itself so that it is not a religious strait-jacket but a flexible focus of self-reference. In preconciliar days. most communities had a repertoire of symbols, myths, celebra-tions, and ceremonies which integrated the spirituality of the individual members with the spirituality of the congregation. How can we experience this local-to-global articulation today? The order at the global level, which is not dogmatic uniformity but deep unity in shared faith and spirituality, can be authentic only if it emerges from the lived variety and ferment at the local level, among the individuals and groups that make up the community. In recent years some congregations have begun processes of getting religiously sensitive issues out on the table and seeking ways to bring theological resources into dialogue with personal religious experience in the context of open sharing of faith. This is very risky business. But in many cases it has resulted in unusual experiences of renewal of the spirit of the community. Perhaps, having negotiated so many of the more "external" issues of lifestyle and even ministry, many religious are eager, even if fearful, to engage the deeper issues of faith, religious identity, and spiritu-ality. Congregational leadership may be challenged today to take the initiative in helping the congregation address the fundamen-tal issue of Catholic faith and spirituality, that is, the issue of identity and self-reference. Conclusion Let me briefly summarize and conclude. What leadership means and how it is exercised depends essentially on how one understands the social system one is leading. I have tried to sug-gest that the quasi-mechanical modern model of the religious congregation is giving way to an organic postmodern model of Review for Religious community. I have explored a few features of this new model, namely, the conception of the community itself as an autopoietic or self-renewing organic structure; the category of fields as a way of un.derstanding the unifying forces of charism, vocation, and the spirit of the congregation; and the strange attractor as a way of understanding the quintessential role of the gospel lived in consecrated celibacy in community and mission as the principle of self-reference of religious life. I then tried to suggest that the role of leadership today may be neither primarily social maintenance nor ministerial goal set-ting, but the facilitation of the congregation's self-renewing pro-cess through attention to its core identity, its framework of meaning. This framework of meaning is not a uniform religiosity nor a particular type of ministry. It is Christian paschal spiritual-ity, rooted in the gospel of Jesus Christ, lived celibately in com-munity and mission, a spirituality which cannot bypass the Christian theological, liturgical, moral, and socially transforma-tive tradition within the believing community we call church. But in a postmodern context such spirituality cannot be leg-islated or enforced. Nor are leaders, in all probability, any less caught up in doubt, alienation, and theological-religious confusion than the other members of their congregations. What we ask of our leaders today is not that they supply us with the correct answers, or even that they pi6neer the road to the future, but that they mediate the creative interchange between local and global levels, helping us to own the real questions and search honestly, together, for appropriate responses, and thus facilitate the life-giving interaction between the religious congregation and the real world in which we live and minister. When Peter, that first leader of the Christian community, asked Jesus for a clear fix on church order and ministry by inquiring what role his apparent rival, the Beloved Disciple, was to have, Jesus replied, "That's not your problem. What you need to do is follow me," that is, become a beloved disciple and thereby become capable of the ministry to which you are called. Perhaps for all of us, leaders and followers, it is both that simple and that difficult. Notes ~ On this issue of the i~nportance of worldview and the character of the emerging worldview with which I am concerned in this paper, see the very provocative thesis of Danah Zohar in collaboration with I.N. Marshall, The Quantum Self." Human Nature and Consciousv~ess Defined by the Januao,-FebruaO, 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality New Physics (New York: Quill/William Morrow, 1990), esp. pp. 231-237. 2 For a comprehensible introduction to the notion of postmodernity in the context of Christian faith, see James B. Miller, "The Emerging Postmodern World," in Postmodern Theology: Christian Faith in a Pluralist World, ed. Frederic B. Burnham (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1989), pp. 1-19, or Douglas C. Bowman, Beyond the Modern Mind: The Spiritual and Ethical Challenge of the Environmental Crisis (New York: Pilgrim Press, 1990). The SUNY Series in Constructive Postmodern Thought, edited by David Ray Griffin, and published in Albany, New York by the State University of New York Press, includes several volumes of essays repre-senting most of the preeminent writers attempting to relate Christianity and its concerns to the postmodern worldview. For a powerful presenta-tion of secular postmodernity, see Albert Borgmann, Crossing the Postmodern Divide (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992). 3 My primary resources in trying to understand this new approach to reality have been the following: Heinz Pagels, The Coswtic Code: Quantum Physics as the Language of Nature (New York: Bantam Books, 1983); David S. Toolan, "Praying in a Post-Einsteinian Universe," Cross Currents 46 (Winter 1996-1997): 437-470; Margaret J. Wheatley, Leadership and the New Science: Learning about Organization from an Orderly Universe (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1992); Margaret J. Wheatley and Myron Kellner-Rogers,/t Simpler Way (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1996); Danah Zohar in collaboration with I.N. Marshall, The Quantum Self: Human Nature and Consciousness Defined by the New Physics (New York: Quill/William Morrow, 1990). 4 Zohar, The Quantum Self, p. 234, speaks of the new worldview chal-lenging the modernist dualisms which split subject and object (mind and body), individual from relationships, and culture from nature. This is a slightly different focus on what I am talking about in more humanis-tic/ religious terms. 5 Specifically, Wheadey relies on the thought about living systems of Erich Jantsch, The Self-Organizing Universe (Oxford: Pergamon, 1980); the treatment of chemical reality of Ilya Prigogine and Isabelle Stengers, Order out of Chaos (New York: Bantam, 1984); the work of quantum physi-cists on strange attractors as explained by James Gleick in Chaos: Making a New Science (New York: Viking, 1987). 6 Cited in Wheatley, Leadership, p. 18. 7 Much of the following description of U.S. religious life from the 1800s until Vatican II is well illustrated in the volume, coauthored by a team of IHM sisters, Building Sisterhood: A Feminist History of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, ed. Margaret Susan Thompson (Syracuse: University Press, 1997). 8 It is interesting that sociological theory of organizations has .applied these Newtonian principles to social systems, leading theorists like Helen Rose E Ebaugh, in Women in the Vanishing Cloister: Organizational Decline in Catholic Religious Orders in the United States (New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1993), to confidently predict the immi- Review for Religious nent demise of religious life, not because the spirituality of religious has died, but because the organizations seem to have lost their niche in the social, economic, and occupational machinery. If I understand Wheatley's thesis, she is convinced that the mechanistic understanding of organiza-tions that underlies much organizational and management theory is inap-propriate to the kind of entity such organizations are. I think Wheatley's thesis is applicable to religious life in general and religious congrega-tions in particular. 9Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 18-19. 10 Wheattey, Leadership, pp. 95-96, treats this feature. ~' When I hear religious wearily predicting the demise of their con-gregations as simply inevitable since decline in one or more areas seems to have set in and, in the long run, decline cannot be arrested or reversed, I am struck by the mechanistic character of their image of religious con-gregations. ,2 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 93. 13 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 90, italics mine. 14 Before reading Wheatley, who uses this very expression, "death or transformation," in relation to living organisms, I was looking at this same phenomenon in religious life in terms of the mystical tradition, the "bifurcation point" represented by the "dark night." See Sandra M. Schneiders, "Contemporary Religious Life: Death or Transformation?" Cross Currents 46 (Winter 1996-1997): 510-535. is Wheatley, Leadership, p. 94. 16 See Patricia Wittberg, Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1996), pp. 19-31, for her very enlighten-ing treatment of the sociological category of the "religious virtuoso" as a descriptive of religious. Peter Brown, in The Body and Society: Men, Women and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988), p. 58, refers to the lst- and 2nd-century virgins, the original religious, as "virtuoso practitioners of continence." 17 In the earliest period of church life, the choice of lifelong virgin-ity created an alternative to the sociological givens of society in the 1st century of the Christian era. In the 3rd and 4th centuries, the desert ascetics moved geographically out of the overacculturated church of late antiquity. In the Middle Ages cenobitic monasticism was an institutional alternative to life in the cities. The "leaving the world" motif continued in the closed lifestyles of apostolic religious congregations right up to Vatican II. 18 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 48. 19 See esp. Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 52-54. 201 think this dynamic metaphor fnight have some potential for dis-cussions of the issues of belonging and membership. For example, if every individual is a distinct constellation of overlapping and intersecting fields (family, personal friends, professional associations, ministerial involve-ments, and so forth) which structure her personal identity and which 3I Janua~y-Febt'uaty 1998 . 32 Scbneiders * Congregational Leadership and Spirituality intersect with the fields of other members and the corporate constellation of fields of the congregation, we have to expect that ways of belonging and participating in community life are going to be very diverse and that this need not lead to disintegration. Likewise, there may be significant but not determining intersection between the field of some person and the congregational field,, leading to a considerable sense of"belonging" on the part of this person who, nev-ertheless, does not feel called to become a member in the full sense of the word. 2, Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 20-21. 22 The amount of chaos within religious life and the sometimes over-whelmingly dysfunctional character of the ecclesiastical settings in which the life survived and even thrived over the centuries is strikingly chron-icled by Jo Ann Kay McNamara in Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996). 23 1 do not mean to suggest that leadership does not play a special role in maintenance and mission. In fact, I suspect leadership in these arenas is even more important today than it was in the recent past when eccle-siastical control dictated virtually all major decisions about mission and stable financial procedures and reliable resources assured maintenance. I want to suggest, however, that these functions, although facilitated by leadership, are largely handled by specialists or by congregational struc-tures that do not depend exclusively on leaders. 24 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 146: "More than any other science prin-ciple I've encountered, self-reference strikes me as the most important. ¯ . . As an operating principle, it decisively separates living organisms from machines." 2s Denys Turner, The Darkness of God: Negativity in Christian MystMsm (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995). 26 Turner, Darkness of God, p. 262. Turner says (p. 259): "Experientialism is. the 'positivism' of Christian spirituality. It abhors the experiential vacuum of the apophatic, rushing to fill it with the plenum of the psychologistic." 27 Turner, Darkness of God, pp. 260-261; he cites Bernard McGinn, The Presence of God: A History of VVestern Christian MystMsm, Vol. 1 (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. xvi. Turner does not actually agree with McGinn about the role of experience in mysticism, but he does agree with him that, until the present century, tnysticism was not isolated from religious traditions but an element within the,n. 2s Mthough there is much of value in Diarmuid O'Murchu's latest book, Quantum Theology (New York: Crossroad, 1997), I have serious hesitations about his facile dismissal of .religion as a dispensable human invention (see esp. pp. 7-12). He is right to point out the distinction between spirituality, religion, and theology, but I doubt that the direct leap from spirituality to theology is possible because, while the categories of theology can be enriched by science, I doubt that they can be supplied Review for Religious without recourse to sacred texts and liturgical ritual. It is indeed part of the function of theology to purify religion of its excesses; but it is also part of the function of religious tradition to criticize theology. 29 Turner, Darkness of God, p. 259. 3o See the caustic description in chaps. 52-53 of The Cloud of Unknowing (The Classics of \Vestern Spirituality), ed. James Walsh (New York/Ramsey/Toronto: Paulist Press, 1981), pp. 220-223. 3t Turner, Darkness of God, p. 259. 3: In speaking of religious congregations, I am using the term theo-logically and not canonically. I am talking about the faith reality that constitutes religious life, not juridical requirements ofany particular period in history. Tropical Night Watch (Cap Haitien, Haiti) The current is cut, the light fails, generators die, sleep prevails. Wakened by silence, I stagger onto the gallery, stumble over stars, so many stars the sky overflows, the Milky Way spilt and star running all down the dome. Does someone, I wonder, watch with me, or do I alone gorge on the glory? Two a.m. an ungodly hour?-- with this luxury of light? this starry sight? I gape, I gape, at this godly night. Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ Januasy-February 1998 DONNA J. MARKHAM Leadership for the Common Good Only a few achieve the colossal task of holding together, without being torn asunder, the clarity of their vision along-side an ability to take their place in a materialistic world. They are the modern heroes . --Irene Claremont de Castillejo Knowing VVoman: A Feminine Psychology AnY person who is called upon to lead today is also called to the heroic act of unifying and healing in the midst of a world that is increasingly fragmented by nationalism and regional separatism. Nor are religious leaders unaffected: denom-inational sectarianism and ideological divisions threaten to take a mortal toll on the community of believers. At the same time, we live in an exciting era, alive in the midst of an enormous shifting in the collective experience of our planet. Insights from world religions, the new sciences, and feminist consciousness are con-tinually shaping our responses to the suffering oppressed. Religious leaders want to unify their members in order to meet the various challenges effectively, but the personal and communal risks are great. Women religious leaders find themselves engaging in heroic action as they contend with complex and differing perspectives on Christology and spirituality and on what constitutes the core Donna J. Markham OP is CEO for Southdown, a center for Christian healing that serves clergy and religious. Her article, published in Origins 27 (I 3 November 1997), is a slightly edited version of her address to the annual assembly of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, held in Rochester, New York, in August 1997. Her address is Southdown; 1335 St. John's Sideroad East; RR #2, Aurora, Ontario; Canada L4G 3G8. Review for Relig4ous identity of religious life in this emerging global reality. Those who are entrusted for a time with the exciting task of fostering greater union and community are also expected to keep in front of our eyes the gospel-illuminated vision to which we have all committed ourselves. Irene Claremont de Castillejo rightly asserts that those who strive to accomplish such things are, indeed, mod-ern heroes. We actually have modern-day heroes--who have called us to common ground, who have invited us to envision a new way of being dwellers on earth, who have risked opening dif-ficult conversations and bringing forth serious critiques as new insights and truths are searched out. Within our midst are, I believe, unobtrusive modern heroines. The thoughts I share come from one who is clearly not a philosopher or a theologian, but rather a student of human behav-ior who has herself been stretched and challenged by a loving God. I share these thoughts as one who has experienced a call to profound conversion in the midst of the awesome responsibility of being entrusted with leading. I share these thoughts as one who, lost in deserts of confusion, has called out in fear; one who, with her sisters, has called upon a God of mystery, wisdom, and hope to show some clarity or meaning in daunting, sometimes terrifying, situations pregnant with disharmony and division. I hope to propose some specific skills for leaders to use in their efforts regarding the good we hold in common. Before doing that, however, I note two perspectives on the meaning of the com-mon good and offer a summation of our own experience of the past ten years. Perspectives on the Common Good There are two principal perspectives about how to achieve the good of society. The prevalent one, perhaps, is that the aggre-gate of individuals all pursuing their own self-interest constitutes the most good for the greatest number. This individualistic and utilitarian view--from John Locke, Adam Smith, and John Stuart Mill--emphasizes the common good as a composite of individual goods. It wants the civil authority to keep out of people's affairs except to ensure that no one tramples on another's rights. The second perspective, in the Thomistic tradition, emphasizes the common good as a social good that all must.participate in if the good of the whole is to be achieved (Hollenbach, 1989, pp. 85ff). January-February 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good Maritain elucidated this by speaking of a "personalistic commu-nitarianism" in which individuals achieve their own good more fully and readily when, in relationship with others, they work to enhance the common good. History has demonstrated, especially over the past two cen-turies, that two extremes of governance must be avoided: a lais-sez- faire individualistic philosophy that heralds each person in There is an increasing plurality of expression regarding personal spirituality and one's relationship with God. society as completely autonomous and indepen-dent, and a socialistic collectivism in which the individual sacrifices everything for the society, even to the loss of self-actualization. Within these polarities there exists a tension for each of us: to want each individual member in our community to be fulfilled and to flourish and to want our religious institutes to unleash their communal passion and energy in service of the mission of Jesus. After a long history of reflecting a more col-lectivist model, with the needs of individuals heavily subordinated to the needs of the larger community, religious life has, I think, swerved toward the Lockean-Smithian libertarian notion of the common good. Leadership itself has, at times, colluded in this--unconsciously, I think. We saw this reflected in some of our early documents after the call to renewal: the individual member was noted as our primary asset and first concern. While this concern was certainly not intended to subordinate the communal mission, experience has shown that this interrelationship has remained a serious issue for us, and we find ourselves seeking ways to lead well in the midst of escalating diversity of thought and belief. Experiences, Insights, and Questions What I say about the experience of leaders over this past decade is by no means exhaustive; I simply offer my own obser-vations: ¯ Women religious have a far stronger sense of internalized personal identity and individual maturity than previously. We also seek clarity concerning what constitutes corporate, com-munal identity .and what the requisites for membership are. Review for Religious ¯ We have witnessed a growing diversification of ministries, in which members are far more able to use their individual cre-ativity and talents in service of the gospel. ¯ We have deepened our sense of inner authority and self-direct-edness, yet we struggle with how this relates to any congre-gational ministerial focus and communal accountability. ¯ There is an increasing plurality of expression regarding per-sonal spirituality and one's relationship with God. ¯ There is a clear movement away from structures and systems that are oppressive and demeaning to women, and a deliber-ate movement toward systems that address the needs of the poor, the oppressed, and the abandoned. ¯ We have deepened our understanding of feminism in relation to our church and our world. ¯ We see an escalation of profound questioning, with conse-quences for our communal life as members of our institutes, not to mention our life as dwellers on this planet. ¯ As leaders we continue to experience the pervasive tension between our pastoral responsibility with its consequent care-giving obligations, and the possibilities of vision-driven, spirit-linking, heart-stirring leadership. ¯ We continue to examine models of leadership, modes of par-ticipation and decision making, and forms of governance that are faithful to our commitment as gospel-driven women. ¯ We live within the growing complexity of all the institutions and systems in which we minister. ¯ And we have witnessed the common good being held hostage, at times, by malaise and a depletion of communal passion. We have seen the common good compromised by leaders who have become overly preoccupied with the torment of a trou-bled individual and have diverted their attention from the broader work of leadership, with its potential to accomplish major transformations. We have witnessed the common good being co-opted by leaders who have become frightened and paralyzed in the face of an articulate few whose sociocultural precommitments distract them and others from gospel faith, the living water of religious life. At times we have also seen leaders--perhaps in misdirected efforts to affirm individu-als- fail to critique emergent societal, religious, and cultural movements as these impact on the common good of the con-gregation. 'L37 . 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good 3-8A So what is it that we have learned from what we have experi-enced? We have intensified our conviction that pluralism and diversity must work in tandem with a binding sense of identity and relationality. We know that interdependence is imperative for our survival as a planet, as nations, as a church, and as religious institutes. It is clear that all living systems are characterized by net-works of relationships. We are aware, more than ever, that all things are somehow connected and have an impact on one another for good or bad. Consequently, we know that various necessary and desirable boundaries need to be permeable enough for bond-ing with other communities and the global community to be pos-sible. We have learned, too, that neither hieratic leadership models nor totally consensual models are effective in this time of rampant change, greater complexity, and anxiety-provoking ambiguity, and we search for new ways to express leadership and exercise author-ity. We have learned that neither the subordination of individu-als to the needs of the community nor the subordination of the common good to the needs of individual members will make for a viable future. We have learned that new expressions of com-munity are being called for, whereby persons exercise true inter-dependence, participation, and responsibility about matters pertaining to the well-being of all those involved. We know that, if we are to do this, we need to develop skill in managing conflict and diversity. We have embraced even more deeply our need for ongoing contemplative reflection and conversation about mat-ters of the heart and soul. And we have learned with some trepi-dation that, insofar as profound doubt about the meaning and validity of our founding myths pervades our communities, we flirt with division and dissolution. Given all this, we are faced with serious questions. At what point does diversity within our institutes lead to entropy and orga-nizational dissolution? How will we work with our differences so that the result is synergy rather than division? How can we, with our members, become more intently engaged in the promotion of a personal communitarianism which recognizes that each per-son's dignity is most fully achieved in communion with others? What can we do as committed women of the gospel to help heal the gender and ideological rifts within our church, the racial and economic rifts in our country? What deliberate and concerted actions should we be taking as communities of faith to address Review for Religious materialistic individualism and the exploitation and mutilation of creation? How will we inspire others to that end? What signs will identify the better emergent models of leadership? In an effort to shed some light on these questions, I will focus on three areas of skill development: conflict management, guard-ing against "groupthink," and promoting communal efficacious action. By no means the only skills needed, these three call for some special attention today. Skills by themselves are, of course, not enough; but a leadership team's understanding of the princi-ples behind them can help keep the congregation moving for-ward while holding open the possibility of true synergy emerging. By synergy I mean the energy-laden, unexpected accord--or com-munion- within a group that gives it momentum toward the good which it esteems in common. Comfortable and Adept in Handling Conflict Perhaps more than any other skill, religious leaders today need the ability to manage conflict well. This prevents group-think from setting in and supports communal efficacious action. While we all know that some conflict is normal in any human relationship and an important part of the interaction in any vital group, much of what I say about managing conflict will seem counterintuitive. It flies in the face of our upbringing and our instinctive responses to confrontation. Most of us probably employ two basic responses to conflictual situations. Either we shy away from them, taking no action or procrastinating in the hope that the problem will go away, or we engage in symmetrical inter-change, being defensive or aggressive toward one another, prob-ably debating to a standoff. With the first strategy we quickly learn that the denial of the possibility of conflict is an easy way of becoming involved in one. With the second strategy we find our-selves caught in dualistic thinking that categorizes others as either with us or against us; we draw the proverbial line in the sand, and some become self-righteous winners and others demoralized losers. To use a third strategy, that is, to act counterintuitively, we anticipate and deliberately move toward that which is feared in efforts to establish connection. VCe meet conflict proactively or, in the wonderful words of William Shakespeare, we "meet the first beginnings; look to the budding mischief/before it has time to [-~9-- January-February 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good Where debate aims at convincing and winning, dialogue is a commitment to listen and learn from one another. ripen to ,naturity." We anticipate conflict and confrontation and approach the other with the clear, well-articulated intent to dia-logue. In so doing we open the possibility of engaging in a kind of ecological relationship building, a way of working through erroneous assumptions about and resistance to one another. We do not engage in debate, but rather in dialogue that has been pre-pared for with rigorous study, prayer, and reflection. Where debate aims at convincing and winning, dialogue is a commitment to lis-ten and learn from one another. Debate encour-ages dogmatic rigidity and judgment; dialogue encourages the search for insight and truth. If all parties have not prepared for the conversation by disciplined and intensive study, prayer, and reflec-tion, we are not ready to dialogue. Dialogue means that, while we are open to lis-tening and learning, we. also know that there are certain issues about which a group cannot com-promise. These include identity, internal consis-tency, and core values. A group ceases to exist as itself when these constitutive elements are com-promised. For example, leaders of religious congregations have a fundamental fiduciary obligation to promote the unity of the con-gregation. They canr~ot compromise those founding values and principles which have endured over ti,ne and which constitute the community's identity, charism, and mythic history. On the other hand, conversation and dialogue around the contentporary meaning of communal identity--no matter how divergent our understand-ings may bemis of critical importance and should not be shied away from in spurious hopes that differences will disappear. Still, to entertain that the fundamental identity of the group is open for negotiation is to promote disunity, disintegration, and ultimate demise. Membership in the group has become meaningless. A few examples: One can be a part of a group called "psy-chologists" and struggle with reformulations and new constructs relative to the study of personality and behavior. But to assert that the study of personality and behavior is no longer relevant to the discipline of psychology is to move oneself outside the iden-tity of being a psychologist. Similarly, Dominicans can struggle with how to enflesh the mandate of the order to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ in today's world, or how they will name and address contemporary heresies, but they cannot say that they will Review for Religious replace the gospel of Jesus Christ as a foundation for that preach-ing mission with some other construct. To do so would be to move outside the identity of being Dominican. Likewise, when an indi-vidual experiences a loss of identity, that person moves into a state of confusion and terror. In the most dramatic sense of this phe-nomenon, the psychotic person has little or no awareness of who she is, what she is to be doing, or what meaning there is to her very existence. This is why the therapist, as an agent of responsive and responsible authority, must take swift action to protect her from further disintegration and potential self-destruction. Good leaders take clear and directed action to protect the solidarity of the group, its commitment to unity in the face of challenges to its founding purpose, its identity and mission. They do so by calling the group to reflection, prayer, and respectful dialogue. They, with the group, walk toward what is feared and claim their truth in faith and in commitment to the greater good. Leaders in this era of connection (Lipman-Blumen, pp. 8-21) live in the midst of ongoing diversity. Accordingly, they also live in the midst of the conflicts which arise from this diversity of insight and thought. Successful handling of these conflicts demands certain assumptions: that all are committed to learn from one another and to search for truth together; that they agree to carry out the conversation to its conclusion; that they respect one another; and that no party will resort to oppressive or vindictive strategies during or after the conversation. Leaders who succeed possess an internal disposition of grace, flexibility, balance, empa-thy, courage, creativity, and a heavy dose of curiosity about the dif-ferent and unusual. But even these qualities are insufficient if leaders are frightened or unclear about or uncommitted to what constitutes the identity of the group which they have been called to serve. A time may come when evasion or avoidance--or a direct naming of the futility of carrying a discussion any further--may actually be a worthwhile move. The problem has often been that we have resorted to these moves before working proactively with the conflictual situation. Guarding against Groupthink One way, of course, of avoiding conflict within a close work group is for all to adopt patterns of thinking that are so "agree- Janttal.3,-FebtvtaD, 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good able" that disagreement becomes unthinkable: it would be "dis-loyalty." But "agreement," then, is an ambiguous thing. The greater the ambiguity, the more likely it is that a leadership group has fallen into the groupthink that some analysts describe. This dangerous dynamic arises when, in the face of adversity or perceived danger, a cohesive "ingroup" (here, the leadership team) insulates itself from conflict with the "outgroup" (here, the other members). It does this by concurrence seeking and unques-tioning agreeableness among the ingroup members. Groupthink interferes with leadership's ability to act on behalf of the com-mon good because it has closed off alternative courses of action. It falls into a tight-knit, closed system in which team members avoid deviating from consensus. The ingroup thus shares an illu-sion of unanimity concerning most of its judgments and posi-tions. In the worst scenario, certain members of the ingroup unwittingly assume the role of "mindguards" who protect the leader and other ingroup members from adverse information that might break their sense of well-being about their past decisions. Groupthink can result from a largely unconscious effort on the part of a leadership group to fortify itself, in ambiguous and con-flictual times, against perceived threats from the outgroup. It is characterized by the ingroup's feeling a certain invulnerability and having exaggerated optimism about the future. Negative feed-back has been dismissed by rationalizing, by stereotyping the behavior of members who disagree as invalid, irrelevant, erro-neous, disloyal, or uninformed. The search for truth has thus been compromised not only in the leadership group but also throughout the community, because sincere engagement between the ingroup and the outgroup has been aborted. W-hen diversity of thought has been stifled within a leadership group, stagnation, boredom, and a certain brittleness, set in. This situation comes from a misunderstanding of consensus, but it often masquerades as a nonhieratic, more feminist model of managing disagreement and arriving at decisions. Groupthink is serious and should not be underestimated. Group analysis has shown that the membership of any large group reflects the deficiencies of its leaders. V~rhen diversity of opinion, conflict, and serious dialogue find little or no room for expression in the leadership group, the membership will unconsciously mir-ror the leadership or react strongly to it, in either case jeopar-dizing the common good. Review for Religious In order to counter the unconscious pull toward groupthink, leadership teams may wish to set up safeguards. They could, for example, devise ways of getting critical evaluations of decisions and actions (including evaluations from outside the leadership team); they could, before coming to agreement, probe for alternatives; they could seek and happily come up with more than one way of addressing a given issue; they could broaden the decision-making base by consulting persons from different disciplines and areas of expertise; they could, after a period of time apart, hold a sec-ond- chance session to readdress the issue; they could simply ask whether there is "too much unanimity." Promoting Efficacious Communal Action Leadership teams that manage conflict well and avoid group-think instill in their communities the belief that it is indeed pos-sible for something important and significant to come from concerted communal action directed toward the greater good (Bandura, 1997). On the other hand, if a community has little sense that it is making a difference as a group, it will experience organizational anxiety, corporate depression, and a growing fear of the future and it will not attract new members. Leaders who work well with conflict and promote the unity of the group through a clear commitment to pursuing the truth together make a difference in this world of ours. Their fearless-ness and passion in repeatedly calling the group to fidelity to its mission have an impact. If all else is equal, a group that is more unified and clear about its identity and mission will endure beyond one that is fragmented. In other words, integration and unifica-tion contribute to life; disintegration and fragmentation, to demise. We know well that our desire to flourish is not an end in itself. Rather, we choose life as members of religious institutes because we are committed to radical discipleship. We commit ourselves to a vowed life in community in order to make a differ-ence-- for the poor, the oppressed, the vulnerable, and the aban-doned in our world. We believe we can do this better because we are united as sisters, and so we invite others to walk with us. We do this not simply to bolster our sense of well-being, but because we believe desperately in the mission of Jesus to promote justice and right relationships among people, between people and their Januaty-Februa~y 1998 Markham ¯ Leadersh~ for the Common Good God, and among all the various peoples that dwell upon this planet. We know that this work is not finished. We invite others to join us in this connective mission of pursuing what is true, what is just, what is merciful, and what ultimately is the One who unites us all. Most of our congregations have identified issues which they see as critical to the common good of our society today. In meet-ing with communities across North America, I have noted a remarkable consensus on the critical issues calling for our response as women religious. Through chapter acts, vision statements, and communal goals, concerns about the environment, racism, the poor and oppressed, spirituality, and women's needs and oppor-tunities continue to surface. These concerns, besides inviting our deep compassion, recall us to our commitment to live the gospel as wholeheartedly as we can. I watched in awe as the NASA scientists shared the excite-ment of accomplishing something awesome. This team of women and men was jubilant that their Martian dreams, their hard work, their collaboration gave us earthlings a chance to see another world. They were passionate, and millions of us on the Internet shared their passion as we took in the unfolding events. Why, then--though our dreams and efforts on behalf of the oppressed and abandoned bring successes and are no less altruistic than those of NASA scientists--do we seem not to have such excitement and passion about our corporate accomplishments, either just among ourselves or in the eyes of others? I found myself pon-dering this question with a tinge of sadness as I watched the ongo-ing televised press briefings. We want to make a difference in our mission. We want to see something come of all our hard work. We want to know that we are participating in something that makes a tangible difference in our world. We long for excitement and passion regarding our work. When a group has a sense of nothing much coming from a colossal effort, it gets discouraged. Negative corporate conse-quences follow: heightened individualism, attrition of member-ship, loss of momentum, corporate sluggishness. While many of us individually experience satisfaction in know-ing that we are addressing those compelling needs identified through our chapter processes, I wonder if we are depriving our-selves of the possibility of magnanimous corporate accomplish-ment. I wonder if the aggregate of our individual good works has Review for Religious buried in oblivion our ability to do something passionately, and concretely, together. What might it mean for us if we were to spec-ify concretely what we will do together as a congregation--or per-haps all of our congregations in concert--by way of making a passionate and grand contribution to this Mother Earth of ours, especially the neediest causes on it? I realize that, as soon as we entertain thoughts of concerted and clearly defined com-munal endeavors, we may conjure up our worst memories of the past. The urgency of the needs of these times, however, demands that we let go of that history and allow the fire of a revived corporate passion to brighten our eyes and our vision as we look toward the future of the life and labor for which God called us together, and keeps calling us. We have dedication and commitment and a vision and a mission that are at least as broad and deep as the NASA team has. We are attuned to needs that make the Martian endeavor look small and childlike. Oppression and exploita-tion are no strangers to us. The exploitation of our planet, of the abandoned, of women and children, is daily being resisted by wonderful women religious all over this continent and beyond. But now is a time for us to come together, in ways we have never imagined, to make an even greater difference for the good of our world's people. We join with John Paul II in seeing ecological concern as a driving force in the communal mission to which we are called: The earth is ultimately a common heritage, the fruits of which are for the benefit of all . It is manifestly unjust that a privileged few should continue to accumulate excess goods, squandering available resources, while masses of people are living in conditions of misery at the very lowest level of sub-sistence. Today the dramatic threat of ecological breakdown is teaching us the extent to which greed and selfishness-- both individual and collective--are contrary to the order of creation, an order which is characterized by mutual interde-pendence . Simplicity., moderation, and discipline, as well as a spirit of sacrifice, must become part of everyday life, lest all suf-fer the negative consequences of the careless habits of a We commit OldYselves to a vowed life in community in order to make a difference-- for the poor, the oppressed, the vulnerable, and the abandoned in our world. Januao~Feb~wa~y 1998 Markham * Leadershi~for the Common Good few . An education in ecological responsibility is urgent; responsibility for oneself, for others, and for the earth . (John Paul II, 1990) Engaging in this efficacious action on behalf of the common good calls each of us to a deeper expression of our personal value and meaning and makes it available for the well-being of one another. To lead on behalf of the common good is as exciting as it is heroic. To stay centered on the ultimate vision of unity; to manage conflict in service of what is true, faithful, and just; to stand committed to the unfolding meaning of our identity in mis-sion-- these things are the substance of leaders who invite con-version and the linking of spirits and hearts at a time when not to do so is, all too probably, to toy with death. Steering Clear of Resistance Temptations to let oneself be drawn away from the demands of such a ministry of spirit-linking leadership abound. To allow oneself to be caught up in efforts directed toward problem persons and a minimal status quo is to entrench oneself and one's con-gregation in a futile defensiveness. Recognizing the difference between getting caught up in crisis management and working with the crisis in order to promote the common good is an art form that requires continual attention and development. In the process we must guard against a certain emotional and behavioral passivity that lulls us into a tolerance of diversity without restraint. Individual efforts and accomplishments should not crowd out the larger vision of a community's contemporary identity in mis-sion. When community leaders sideline or postpone or limit a unified group response to the crying needs of God's people and God's world, when leaders give too much attention to individual members (to their preferences, their convenience, even their per-sonal gratification) or fail to set limits on behaviors that stand in the way of the greater good, then something is wrong. Any group, of course, has maintenance tasks that need atten-tion. But how much time and energy should those entrusted with leadership today spend on those tasks? Honest self-evaluation of the use of team time is an important reality test for a leadership group. Such a group needs continual creative redesign so as to become or remain free to lead and not just manage. Beyond merely managing or even merely leading, I ask con- Rev&w for Religious gregational leaders to call one another and to call our communi-ties to heroism. Call us to risk entering into conflictual conver-sations that hold promise of connecting us in trust and in hope to one another. Lead us into the midst of difficult dialogues that will bring us into deeper and more respectful relationship with all who long for a church, a society, and a world in which communion in spirit and in truth prevails. Risk calling us to concrete corpo-rate ministerial responses. Invite us to be passionate. Help us to face together the different, the other, the frightening, and the unexpected so that we may discover ever more deeply that the good which we hold in common is nothing less than participa-tion in the compassionate goodness and mystery of God. Bibliography Bandura, A. "Human Agency: The Emperor Does Have Clothes." Canadian Psychological Association Convention, Keynote Address, June 1997. Bellah, R., et al. The Good Society. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1991. Claremont de Castillejo, I. Knowing Woman:/t Feminine Psychology. Harper Colophon Books, 1974. Hollenbach, D. "The Common Good Revisited." Theological Studies 50, no. I (1989), pp. 70-94. Hollenbach, D. "The Catholic University and the Common Good." Current Issues in Higher Education 16, no. 1 (1995). John Paul II. "Peace with God the Creator, Peace with All of Creation." Papal statement, 1 January 1990. Lipman-Blumen, J. The Connective Edge: Leading in an Interdependent World. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1996. Rivers, E The Way of the Owk Succeeding with lntegv-i~y in a Conflicted World. HarperSanFrancisco, 1996. Roszak, T., M.E. Gomes, and A.D Kanner, eds. Ecopsychology: Restoring the Earth, Healing the Mind. San Francisco: Sierra Club Books, 1995. Tracy, D. Plurality and Ambiguity: Hermeneutics, Religion, Hope. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1987. Whyte, D. The Heart/1roused: Poetry and the Preset'ration of the Soul in Corporate America. New York: Doubleday Currency, 1994. Wren, J.T., ed. The Leader's Companion: Insights on Leadership through the Ages. New York: Free Press, 1995. Janttary-Feb~'uary 1998 thNv N E MUNLEY Hearts Afire: Leadership in the New Millennium I love you, God, with a penny ~natch of love that I strike when the big and bullying dark of need chases my startled sunset over the hills and in the walls of my house small terrors move.~ ~edeeSSica Powers's image, "a penny match of love," is a won-rful imag~e o.f human desire for God that yearns" to be stronger, that yearns to ignite hearts, capture imaginations, shape dreams, and awaken possibilities. There is nothing paltry about God's gifts. God longs to kindle our penny matches of love into a growing fire as we gather here, more than a thousand strong, representing ninety-four percent of the women religious of the United States. It is a precious gift to be alive and to be called to leadership as one millennium ends and another begins. The last decades of the 20th century have been a time of cataclysmic change. The coming of the third millennium is certain to prompt diverse mus-ings about the challenges of this moment in history. Some, lament-ing present evils, will forecast doom. Others will gloss over substantive issues of dignity and justice to focus on the bizarre. Still others, including ourselves, will view the millennium as a kairos time for renewing hearts and transforlning society. Anne Munley IHM presented this paper, here edited and somewhat short-ened, as the presidential address to the August 1997 national assembly, in Rochester, New York, of the Leadership Conference of V¢o~nen Religious. She may be addressed at the I.H.M. Center; 2300 Adams Avenue; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18509. Review for Religious The year 2000 presents the world with an extraordinary occa-sion to commemorate-the birth of Christ as an historical fact and as a saving event for humanity for all times. The new millennium is an invitation to renewed wonder at the lavishness of a God who so loved the world that Jesus, the Christ, took on human flesh that all might become alive in God. We are called to leadership in a time when humanity yearns for connection with God, with one another, and with all creation. Yet we are acutely aware that we live in a world of violence, envi-ronmental desecration, economic polarization, racism, poverty, systemic oppression, and cultural breakdown. Our senses are bur-dened with images of human suffering in the homes, streets, vil-lages, neighborhoods, suburbs, and cities of this nation and throughout the world. In this age of globalization, when the peo-ples of the world are linked together as never before by commu-nication, economic interdependence, and the diffusion of cultural values, gaps continue to grow between rich and poor. Most peo-ple would agree that beneath obvious contemporary problems lie a crisis of the spirit and an erosion of concern for the common good. There is little sense that all the peoples of the earth are brothers and sisters having a common destiny in one global fam-ily created by the God of infinite love and compassion, but such a sense is what is needed." Inside the walls of our house, "the bul-lying dark of need" aches to see flames of love and moral com-mitment, aches for a revolution of the human heart and a resurgence of spiritual leadership. There are many signs of hope for this moment: conscious-ness that there is a crisis, desire for practical life-giving solutions, hunger for meaning, purpose, and direction and a longing for connectedness. The biblical concept of jubilee offers a revolu-tionary vision of reform for these times. The call to jubilee rec-ognizes the sanctity of time, the sacredness of creation, the importance of rest and contemplation, the equality of all in the eyes of God, the need to attend to the common good and the jus-tice of right relationships. The biblical jubilee calls for forgiveness, reconciliation, and joy, not ju.st an inner joy but a jubilation that is expressed in communal celebration) In proclaiming a new covenant of unity among peoples, Jesus brought the jubilee promise to life. We lead in a time of soul-stretching possibility. It is a holy time for "bringing good news to the afflicted, liberty to captives, January-Februaly 1998 Munley . Hearts Afire sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed." One of the greatest gifts that leaders can bring to this age is a sense of hope that transformation is possible. This gift is a penny match of love that can ignite great fires. Scientists tell us that tiny movements can have a huge cumulative impact on vast systems.4 Spiritual seekers discovered this truth long ago. In the words of Kukei, an 8th-century Zen master: "A hand moves, and the fire's whirling takes different shapes . All things change when we do."SMore than anything else these times need leaders who can bring to the outer world the transforming spirit of the inner world. Spiritual Leadership Recent literature about leadership reflects growing awareness that spirituality sustains community, meaning, and hope. The titles of many of these works suggest a shift toward conscious-ness of the inner life: Leading with Soul, The Corporate Mystic, The Heart .4roused, The Soul of Politics, and "Leading from Within.''6 The message of Leading ~vitb Soul is that leadership is a jour-ney of the heart. Heart, hope, faith, compassion, and courage are essential to leadership, to the creation of communities of mean-ing, and to a rediscovery of the ethical and spiritual center of society. Corporate mystics are spiritual leaders who are comfort-able with their own spirituality and who nurture the spiritual development of others. Corporate mystics call forth the best in themselves and others; they operate with integrity and intuition and pursue their visions with passion and compassion. In The Heart/1roused, the poet David Whyte links the inner world of spirit and creativity to the preservation of the soul in corporate America. Whyte knows well that leadership from within involves far more than techniques, plans, goals, or strategies. In his latest book of poetry, The House of Bdonging, he urges us to remember:7 What you can plan is too small for you to live. To be human is to become visible while carrying what is hidden as a gift to others. Re'view for Religious Jim Wallace in The Soul of Politics and Parker Palmer in his essay "Leading from Within" emphasize responsibility for co-creating the world we live in by bringing to it the best of our spiritual traditions and convictions. Our spiritual traditions tell us that we are not victims of the world as it is, but are its co-cre-ators. Borrowing from Annie Dillard,s Palmer says that, unless leaders are willing to take the spiritual journey inward and down-ward, we are likely to project what we hate in ourselves onto other people because we fear to face the enemy in our own souls. Great leaders have the courage to face their shadow side and consciously choose to project a spirit of light. Our own experiences on the inner journey and as women religious committed to co-creation of a just and loving world are a valuable part of our call to lead-ership within our communities. Gift of a Heart Afire At this national assembly of ours in outstate New York, I recall the determination and incredible belief in possibility of the hand-ful of women who organized in 1848 the Seneca Falls Convention that lit a fire to change the legal and political position of women in the United States. Using various means to secure suffrage for women, leaders like Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia Mott, Susan B. Anthony, Lucy Stone, and Carrie Chapman Cart drew on their inner fire to breathe spirit and passion into their quest for reform. Women like Mice Paul, Lucy Burns, and Rose Winslow must have drawn deeply on their inner strength as they endured impris-onment, hunger strikes, and forced feedings. I recall also the countless women from all ethnic, class, and racial backgrounds who addressed severe social problems at the end of the last century and the early decades of this one. I recall the inner fire, faith, and vision that sustained the founding and pioneer members of our congregations, enabling them to over-come great obstacles. In the depths of their hearts they realized that, for those who love, the impossible becomes possible. I am conscious of the millions of people who daily confront abuses of human rights and work for change. I am conscious of all of the women religious throughout the world who, with listening hearts and eyes focused on today's fierce urgencies and spiritual hungers, continue to imagine alternate possibilities as they struggle toward the reality of God's reign in the immediate circumstances of daily January-February 1998 Munley . Hearts Afire life. I am conscious of the collective spiritual energy in this room and of the force that it is for the life of the world. Understood in its broadest sense, spirituality includes more than the inner life. It is, in the words of the theologian Anne Carr, "the whole of one's spiritual or religious experience, one's beliefs, convictions, and patterns of thought, one's emotions and behavior in respect to what is ultimate, or to God.''9 As women of faith and conviction, the greatest resource we can bring to the new millennium is the spiritual leadership of a heart afire. Spiritual leadership rooted in the gospel involves working for a transformed understanding of the good life as life that is profoundly good for all. When the heart is on fire, light comes from within. With the "eyes of the enlightened heart," we can see the hope to which we are called (Ep 1:18). By baptism and the mystery of vocation we have proclaimed publicly that the quest for God and the new creation is the fire of our lives. Our world longs for visible expressions of God's saving presence and for new ways of seeing that are graces of the inner experi-ence of God's love. In the Christian tradition seeing with the eyes of the heart occurs on the journey of discipleship. Discipleship is not an easy journey. It is an ongoing effort to live the gospel with integrity--trying, sometimes succeeding, often failing, recognizing the need of being forgiven and then trying again. It is a way of being in the world that affects every relationship. Disciples shape one another according to the action of the Spirit in their lives. The energy of the disciple flows from faith in what_is unseen yet believed. At its root, discipleship is a call to a love that never gives up on God, one's neighbor, or oneself. Disciples are called to love well., as Jesus did, with hope, truth, fidelity, and compassion. This leads inevitably to taking a stand with the Christ of the paschal mystery, who willingly laid down his life in love so that all may have life in abundance. In these times, spiritual leadership rooted in the gospel involves working for a transformed understanding of the good life as life that is profoundly good. for all. Such transformation will happen in our communities and in the world around us when Review for Religious precepts of compassion and justice inspire the collective soul and have an impact on behavior. All around us and among us there are compelling stories of discipleship. As leaders we need to see them with the eyes of the heart. In the sharing of the stories, heart touches heart and souls are filled with the spirit that makes ongoing commitment possible. Meaning-Making Spiritual leaders empower their communities for ongoing commitment by keeping questions of meaning before them: Why are we together in community? How are we called to the unique circumstances of these times? What is our commitment to one another and to those with whom we journey? In times of sub-stantive change there is an extraordinary need to explore ques-tions of meaning and purpose. In the midst of chaos, a coherent worldview and a dynamic understanding of the relevance of reli-gious life are helps toward interpreting the signs of the times and living discipleship with integrity. Leaders can make an enor-mous contribution to this process by helping the other members to make sense of shifting fealties both outside religious !ife and within it. At the deepest level, our congregations are held together by myths, values, beliefs, and foundational stories. These are the roots of the congregation's identity and purpose. They constitute the why of our being together as communities. They have their effect on the passion with which we live our mission. They influ-ence the way we use resources, the way we work together to press the mission forward. The shared meaning and work and mem-ory of our lives together provide symbols, relationships, and prin-ciples for making sense of the changes going on within us and around us. Shared meaning is essential for shared commitment. At a time of rapid social change and shifting demographics and resources, spiritual leadership is not about getting people to do something. It is about helping the group to keep before itself the kind of meaning that will guide choices and call forth com-mitment.~° Spiritual leadership is a group process rather than an individual's personal qualities or skills. It is interactive and rela-tional. When members of a community are closely involved in piecing shared meanings together as a basis for corporate action or direction, they experience significance together, discovery together, leadership together. Today, as many congregations grap- pie with issues of governance and restructuring, it is a key func-tion of leadership to foster meaning-making together. The more things change around us and within us, the more important it will be to create connections for exploring the pos-sibilities that change and newness offer. As Margaret Wheatley notes, "Life invites us to create not only the forms but even the process of discovery.''l~ The kind of effort that we put into mean-ing- making will affect the credibility of our way of life as well as our own sense of authenticity and integrity. Integrity and Justice In

JUNE, 1901 ooTheoo ettysbur VOL. X NO. 4 PENNSYLVANIA COLLEGE GETTYSBURG,PA. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Amos Eckert Dealer in Hats, Shirts, Ties, Um-brellas, Gloves, Satchels, Hose, Pocket Books,J* Trunks, J>& Telescopes, Rubbers, Etc., Etc. AMOS ECKERT. PRICKS ALWAYS RIGHT. TUG Lutheran No. 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for Any-thing and Everything in the way of Books for Churches, Families, Colleges and Schools, and Literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church institutions, with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY S. BONER, Supt., No. 1424 Arch St. Phila. 50 YEARS' EXPERIENCE TRADE MARKS DESIGNS COPYRIGHTS &C. Anyone sending a sketch and description may quickly ascertain our opinion free whether an Invention la probably patentable. Communica-tions strictly confidential. Handbook on Patent! sent free. Oldest agency for secuiingpatents. Patents taken through Munn & Co. receive special notice, without charge, In the Scientific American. A handsomely illustrated weekly. Largest clr. dilation of any scientific journal. Terms. $3 a year; four months, $£• Sold by all newsdealers. MUNN &Co.36""a* New York Branch Office, 626 F St., Washington, D. C. J. I. MUMPER, PHOTOGRAPHER, i 29 Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, i'n. Special attention paid to COLLEGE WOKK A fine collection of Battlefield Views always on hand. Mail orders receive prompt at-tention. C. A. Blocher's Jewelry Store, For Souvenir Spoons, Sword Pins, Etc. All kinds of Jewelry. Repairing- a Specialty. POST OFFICE CORNER CENTRE SQUARE THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY The Literary Journal of Pennsylvania College Entertd at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter VOL. X GETTYSBURG, PA., JUNE, 1901 No. 4 TABLE OF CONTENTS William Shakespeare, . 104 What College Does for a Man, . . . . . . 107 The Mountain Brook, . 109 The Great Stone Face, . . Ill Two John Smiths, . US On a Sunlit Harbor, . . 118 Tennyson's "In Memoriam," . 119 Sonnet, . . 121 Editorial, . 122 The Present Difficulty Between Russia and Japan, 124 The Badge of Courage, . . 125 Translation of Horace I. 35, . 127 The Use of the Novel, . . 128 A Visit to Vahalla, . . 129 An Indian Legend, . . 131 Exchanges, . . . . . . 133 A Picture of Fancy, . . . . . . 134 The College Girl, . 135 For a cap and bells our lives we pay, Bubbles we earn with a whole soul's tasking; 'Tis heaven alone that is given away, 'Tis only God may be had for the asking ; There is no price set on the lavish summer, And June may be had by the poorest comer. And what is so rare as a day in June ? Then, if ever, come perfect days ; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays. Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, grasping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul for grass and flowers. -Lowell. 104 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE J. B. BAKER, '01 'TPHERE is no name in modern literature, or perhaps we may * put it more broadly and state with equal certainty, none in all literature as illustrious as the name of William Shakespeare. Homer, in the gay dawn of Grecian civilization, stands out as the finished product of a more illustrious civilization than the one he occupies. He inhabits Olympus with imperial gods and god-desses and sings the grandest of heroic songs. A thousand years thereafter, in a lavish mood Calliope smiled upon the Latins. She gave to them a Virgil. In sweet and mel-low tones he sang of arms and men, and sent ringing through the corridors of time the undying cadence of his mellifluous tongue. Dante, when the gods of Homer and the heroes of Virgil were no more, towered up in Titanic grandeur, proud and solitary, with the sad and solemn dreams of his poetic imagination. Milton, of immortal fame, opened the gates of death, of heaven and hell, and saw such visions as no man saw before or since. Goethe, the acknowledged prince of German poets, stirred the whole literary mind of Europe like a breeze sweeping over a forest. But Homer, Virgil, Dante, Milton and Goethe do not live in our hearts ; do not twine round our affections; do not satisfy our souls as Shakespeare does. Here and there we may find touches of more daring sublimity, passages more steeped in learning, lines more concealed in abstract thought, but with Henry Glassford Bell, we must acknowledge that the greatest and best interpreter of human nature, the poet of the widest sympathies, a greater sculptor than Phidias, a truer painter than Raphael, came into the world at the pleasant town of Stratford-upon-Avon in April of 1564. Much as might be said of the life of this myriad-minded man, his early environment, his education, his struggle for success, his domestic and public relations, we shall pass all these by and pause for a moment in profoundest reverence to meditate upon the mag-nitude of his intellect. Let us first view him as the dreamer. How barren and inhos-pitable would be the realms of fancy if the characters of Shakes-peare's creation were not its denizens ! What an arid plain ! How sparsely inhabited ! How cold its inhabitants ! Where in all history can we find a creation to equal, nay, to THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 105 , approach the production of " A Mid summer Night's Dream ?" What poet has ever seen so many fairies flitting along the green knoll, through the shady dingle, and near the crystal fountain ? Who saw them dancing on the sand with " printless foot," mak-ing midnight mushrooms, gathering dewdrops and hanging pearls " on every cowslip's ear ?" Who saw them creep into the acorn cups, stealing honey-bags from the humble bees, and plucking the wings from painted butterflies ? What intellectual vision was ever keen enough to catch them bringing jewels from the deep and putting a girdle " round the earth in forty minutes ?" Can you find anywhere in all literature a creation to approach the ex-ploits of Queen Mab driving her hazelnut chariot with little atomies, using traces of a spider's web, a whip of a cricket's bone, and a lash of film ? And not only are the sportive acts of these various fairy beings fascinating, their very names are suggestive to us ot their nature, and carry a charm to the ear that hears them. Puck, Cricket, Cobweb, Oberon, and Ariel who slept in the cow-slip's bell, are as sweet music emanating from the strings of a master harpist. Shakespeare's imagination, however, was not always leading his lambent feet to the ephemeral assemblies of sylvan life. His thoughts were not always wrapped in the dapper little inhabitants of the fields of fancy. He was more than a dreamer. He was an interpreter of nature. Never in all history has an uninspired mind so variously and so exhaustively interpreted the mind of the Creator as revealed in nature as Shakespeare has. No " cloud-capped towers" were too high for him to behold, and no grain of sand too mean for him to wonder at. The blue hills from which the Avon flows lay before him as the slope of age, which we must all ascend, and the dark ravines that lay between them as the valley of the shadow of death. The blinding flash from an o'erhanging cloud, and the quick, sharp clang that clattered through the heavens and echoed and re-echoed among the distant hills, awakened within him a sense of the majesty of his Creator. The frail anemone and the faint blush of the arbutus in the midst of bleak and wintry March, touched his heart like a hope from heaven in a field of graves. The spark-ling oriole swinging in his hammock, the quail piping from the meadow fence, and the lark soaring up from the lush grass, re-minded him of the happiness of liberty, and furnished him with 106 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY some of his sublimest thoughts. He plucked the lily of the val-ley, and showed to the world that not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed like one of them. In short, he was a perfect child of nature, finding " Tongues in trees, books in running- brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything." But Shakespeare was more thau an interpreter of unconscious nature. He peered into the arcana of human character. He sunk his plummet into the sea of human experience, deeper thau poet ever stirred its briny depths. The magic wand of his genius laid bare to him that paragon of all animals—intelligent man. It revealed to him the asininity of passion as well as the nobility of reason, the niggardliness of greed as well as the voluptuousness of hedonism, the depressions of the canaille as well as the festivi-ties of the affluent. Who has ever depicted in such striking colors the power of an evil woman as Shakespeare has ? Where can you find one steeped in greater heinousness than Lady Mac-beth ? Jezebel, the infamous wife of Ahab, planned the murder of Naboth for the acquisition of his vineyards. Catherine de Medici, almost insane with fear of the Huguenots, shocked the world with St. Bartholomew's massacre. But Lady Macbeth was the bloodthirsty assassin herself. " Give me the dagger," she says ; " the sleeping and the dead are but as pictures ; 'tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil." On the other hand, what pen has given us a more sublime picture of the bonds of reciprocal love than that which existed between Celia and Rosalind ? That of Holy Writ between David and Jonathan, and the one between Laelius and Scipio, are the only ones of which we are cognizant that will bear comparison with it. Who has ever shown the fickleness of the multitude more strikingly than the consummate Anthony showed it when he ap-pealed to the passions of the populace ? Who has shown the desolating effects of revenge more accurately than Shakespeare's Hamlet ? Who has glorified the spirit of forgiveness more admi-rably than his Prospero ? In fact, there is scarcely a phase of life that he did not touch, and on account of this his name enjoys its unparalleled univer-sality. An Englishman reads him andhe says, " How English !" A German reads him and he exclaims, " How Teutonic !" An THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 107 Italian reads hirn and be says, "How Roman !" As they said that Helen of Argos had such universal beauty that every one felt related to her, so Shakespeare seems to an American an Ameri-can genus. His broad humanity transcends all sectional lines, and he is the common heritage of the literary minds of the world. WHAT COLLEGE DOES POR A MAN . WILLIAM FKEAS, '01 A S the end of the college year draws near, it is fitting to ask the **■ question, What does college do for a man ? I^et us try to answer this query. It is difficult to hit upon the best thing which may have been accomplished, for there are so many good results, but we will mention a few. An undergraduate cannot appreciate so well the influence his college career has upon him as one who has been out in public life for some years after leaving his Alma Mater, but he has a fairly good idea. There is one thing which seems to hold pre-eminence in the majority of cases. It is, that a habit of thought has been formed. Nothing can be of more benefit to a man. How many men who have graduated have retained much of the subject matter of the text-books used ? They are not very numerous. Then, of what use are the text-books ? It is the training of application and learning to read and study intelligently which makes them so use-ful. Another thing of vast importance presents itself. At the time a man generally goes away from home to college he is at an impressionable age. It is during this period that his character is formed. Frequently we hear it said that a man is through all his life what he was when he graduated. How careful we should be that our associations and surroundings are such as to form good, noble characters. The love of knowledge, for its own sake, is gained when we come into touch with the great number of things to be learned in this world. When we see the extent of good, solid literature, and realize how little of it we will be able to master, there comes to us an unsatisfied longing—an aching void. There opens before us a vista, through which we can travel only for a short distance. Then it is that we see how small is our real knowledge. It knocks the over-weening conceit out of a man quicker than anything else, and puts him into a true posi- 108 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY tion to his fellows. A college course reveals to us in what line we may be most useful, for what our talents are best fitted. It is true, the majority of men come to college with a fixed purpose, and lay out for themselves a prescribed course which will best fit them for their life-work, but new capabilities are developed, and they turn their energies into new channels. Outside work, such as managing a team, being on the staff of a college publication, being active in literary societies, and many other things, aid greatly in the progress of a man. Laziness attacks all men at times, and especially a college student, but a man with any spirit cannot always sit idly by and watch the progress of his friends and not make an effort to follow them. We might even say that his association with wide-awake men is an education in itself. Many a man gets his first impulse for hard, persistent work while in college. He begins to appreciate the true worth of the mas-terpieces of literature and art, and places inferior productions in their true light. Even to-day we hear the assertion that college life ruins many, and so people refuse the advantages to those whom it would ben-efit greatly. A man must have very little backbone if the good he gets does not far outweigh the evil. An example of a wrecked life, traceable to college days, does sometimes come to our view, however much we regret it, but that should not make anyone condemn a college career, for a great number of men gain many advantages from it. Frequently a man is led to live an intellectual life, and then looks at things squarely in the face, " clearly, dis-passionately, and in their large relations." It has been said that " the American college is a mother of men." When a man gets away from home, and has to look out for himself, he gets expe-rience sometimes dearly bought, but of great value to him. It gives him the quality of independence which stands him in good stead. There are two elements in a college career—instruction and personality, and it is not easy to say which has the more and better influence. A man at college comes into contact with higher per-sonalities than he is likely to meet under other circumstances. Instruction gives him good principles upon which to build the structure of his life, while, on the other hand, the personality of the instructors can and does influence a student to higher ideals. The contact of man with man is beneficial to all concerned. Many THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 109 a life-long friendship has been formed during college days which, in later years, is of inestimable value. College is an excellent place to study men—their modes of work, their characters, and, in fact, all about them. This training is very useful in later life. The study of science and philosophy strengthens our trust in our Creator. The more we study the plan which is everywhere exhibited about us the more we feel "perfect fear" and rever-ence, as well as love and devotion, for the God who made us. We get a grander idea of His love for us in the provisions made for our welfare. Some few men may, perhaps, scientifically and philosophically, reason God out of existence, but generally the moral and mental horizon is widened infinitely. Let us sum up a few of the things mentioned which college does for a man. It forms the habit of thought ; it molds charac-ter ; it gives a love of knowledge for its own sake ; it has a de-terminative influence ; it brings man into contact with many other men, some of higher personalities ; it enriches his life ; it deepens and widens his view of truth ; it raises his ideals ; it increases his view of, and his love for, the beautiful; and it strengthens his faith in God by giving him a better understanding of the won-drous provisions made by an all-wise God for his welfare here be-low. THE MOUNTAIN BROOK C W. WF.ISER, '01 From a crevasse in the ledges, Covered by the flowery hedges, Shaded froni the noon-day's glow, In a pocket, mossy, low, Cool and limpid, bubbling ever From its home, without endeavor— Flows the crystal ice-cold fountain, High upon the lonely mountain. From deep parts, to us unknown, It has through the ages flown; From dark caverns in the ground, Gushing, bubbling all year 'round It pours forth into the light, Pure and limpid, crystal, bright, Filtered rain and melted snows. Rippling, wavering, on it flows 110 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY From its rock-bound, mossy bower, Hidden by the bush and flower, Rhododendrons, ferns and pines, Thorny shrubs and flowering vines, From whose branches, twigs and strands Hanging mosses stream in bands. All's a deep, luxuriant maze Whence songsters bright peal softest lays. Over all's the glowing sun; Underneath the shadows run, Where the fountain noiseless plays All the livelong summer days. Down the nook and thro' the dell, Rippling on the brook to swell, Flows the little, limpid stream, Murmuring as in pleasant dream, By the ancient little mill, Sometimes clattering, sometimes still; By the vine-clad cabin running, On whose porch the dog is sunning, And the old black puss is drowsing. In the mead a cow is browsing, By the brook are children playing, To the woods a colt is straying, From the trees an axe is ringing, In the house the mother's singing, From the chimney, curling, blue, Floats the smoke, and wafting thro' The Heavens bright, above the trees Dissolves in cooling morning breeze. A moment, and the scene is gone, The gurgling brook is flowing on, Now between the ponderous mass Of towering peaks, thro' mountain pass, Tumbling down with swish and roar, Dashed to spray on rocky floor. Rushing on its downward course, Over boulders, rumbling, hoarse, Loudly, swiftly on it sweeps Down the pass and o'er the steeps, Dashing into feathery spray, Prancing silvery on the way. Loudly rumbling, Noisy, grumbling, Gurgling, whirling, Eddying, twirling; Wildly churning, Skipping, turning, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 111 Downward rushing, Bubbling, gushing, In its hurry And its flurry L,oudly roaring, Madly pouring, On its way to vales below Does the mountain torrent flow. Thus the limpid mountain stream Floats at first as in a dream, a Sweetly murmuring softest tune, Harmonious with the month of June; Then as down the pass it flows, Swiftly up the scale it goes • With a rumble and a roar, Resounding far the mountains o'er; Floating, rushing, murmuring ever, Onward to the mighty river, Thence into the deep blue ocean, Tossed about in ceaseless motion, Till at last in vapor form It home returns in mist or storm. THE GREAT STONE FACE Oration by S. A. VAN ORMEB, '01 QITTING belore their cabin door, Ernest and his mother were ^ looking through the gathering gloom that follows the setting sun at the Great Stone Face, who, from his throne on the perpen-dicular side of the mountain, miles away, seemed to preside over the valley beneath. Here the mother related the story of the mountain image— told how that it had long been believed that the time would come when one should be born in the region who should become the greatest and noblest personage of his time ; and who should, in the splendor of his manhood, exactly resemble the wondrous features on the mountain side ; told how that the earliest inhab-itants had heard the story from the Indians, who had received it from their ancestors, to whom it had been told by the trickling waters of the mountain brook and whispered by the swaying trees. At the conclusion of the story Ernest expressed a desire to live to see the man; and his mother replied, " Perhaps you may." 112 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Time passed. Ernest lived on in his log cottage, helping his mother with his little hands and loving heart. He had no teacher save the Great Stone Face, whom he imagined to smile at him in response to his veneration. After the toil of the day he would gaze at the Titan image, and discern the love that was meant for all. Soon it was reported that one who had been born in the region was about to return, and spend his declining years amid the scenes of his childhood—the prophetic personage long-looked-for. Now this Mr. Gathergold had been fortunate in business pur-suits. He was the owner of a fleet that gathered the treasures of land and sea. A great retinue preceded him, and the people eagerly awaited his arrival. He came; but the "yellow claw" that dropped some coppers to a beggar woman, and the careworn face, bore no resemblance to the benign features of the mountain image. Dis-appointment filled Ernest's breast, and he turned away ; while the crowd, heedless of his lack, lauded the miser. But Ernest continued to study the granite face. Soon it was reported that the counterpart of the wondrous image was to ap-pear in the person of General Blood and Thunder. The inhab-itants prepared to banquet him and his retinue. The tables were set in the open. The banquet ended, the General arose to speak, and then Ernest saw him over the heads of the jubilant throng. His war-worn countenance, full of energy and expressive of an indomitable will, was indeed characteristic of the warrior; but it bore little resemblance to the broad, wise and sympathetic features of the man of stone. Next came the eminent statesman, whose clarion voice had made him prominent. Great preparations were made to receive Old Stony Phiz. Officers and prominent men accompanied him. A band added to the enthusiasm of the crowd, for he was a Presi-dential candidate. But, in the words of the author, " the sublimity and stateli-ness, the grand expression of divine sympathy, that illuminated the mountain image and etherealized its ponderous granite sub-stance into spirit, might here be sought in vain." The years sped on. White hairs appeared in Ernest's head. He had become a minister, and many eminent men visited him to share his wisdom. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 113 While he sat one evening reading songs that he thought worthy of one resembling the Great Stone Face, the author of those songs appeared, and Ernest was once again disappointed. Pleasantly they talked together; and when the hour arrived for Ernest to address an open-air meeting, they walked arm-in-arm to the scene. Ernest took his position before the audience; and as he poured forth the fullness of his heart the poet noticed the strong re-semblance between the grand beneficence of the minister's face and that of the face now enshrouded in the mountain mists ; and, in the author's words, " impulsively he threw his hands aloft and shouted: 'Behold! behold! Ernest is himself the likeness of the Great Stone Face !' " Such, in short, is the story of the Old Man of the Mountains; the legend of the Great Stone Face. Man cherishes ideals, and his worth in the world depends upon the ideals that he cherishes. Ideals, in the words of one, "are the meat and drink of life." Every thought that we think and every deed that we do is directed to some end; and life, which is but a series of acts, must answer to some end, noble or mean, pursued either consciously or unconsciously. The word progress is mean-ingless without reference to an ideal. They support and encour-age us. They exercise their influence upon us insensibly. They force us into the arena where we must wield the Gladiatorial sword in their vindication. The man of science discerns and interprets an order in things that we do not make. The effort to give distinctness and form to our ideals brings with it a purity that becomes evident. In this sense only should the word ideal be used; but if our thoughts and actions are directed toward a mean or low end, the result is just as evident. These truths are beautifully illustrated by the char-acters of the story. " We are what we are," says the Chinese aphorism, "'because we have been doing what we have been doing," and it might well be added that we have been doing what we have been doing because of the ideals we cherish. This is none the less true of nations than of men. Biography and History alike are replete with illustra-tions of men and nations that arose to eminence in a particular line because their thoughts, their efforts and their energies were directed toward that one end—an ideal. The merchant, the warrior, the statesman, the poet, and 114 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Ernest—the minister—all were born in the valley over which the man of the mountain presided. The merchant left in early life, spent his time and energy in accumulating a massive fortune. Anxiety filled his breast lest the ships that sought the northern furs be crushed by the icebergs, or the savage tribes, for whose Afric gold he bartered, might murder his agents. The storm at sea filled his breast with terror; still he sought his gold. His saf-fron hand and knitted brow were indeed characteristic. He achieved his end. He was diligent in business, so are all men who achieve success—"they shall stand before kings." The Phoenicians centered their efforts on commercial pursuits, and they secured almost exclusively the carrying trade of antiquity. The general's stern features and commanding figure were suggest-ive of one who had obeyed the bugle's call and led the charge to the mouths of belching cannon; one hardened by the carnage and death-agony of fields lost and won. Contrast, if you will, two great warriors to two great nations— Napoleon and Washington. Napoleon welded together into one vast domain many parts of Europe; Washington gained the inde-pendence of the American colonies. Napoleon worked for vain glory and aggrandizement; Washington fought for a cherished principle—a noble end. Napoleon "stamped his name upon the bricks of Paris;" Washington in the hearts of his countrymen. Sparta devoted her attention to military pursuits and she pro-duced a race of warriors of whose deeds and endurance we read with wonder. The statesman and orator, whose voice was heard on various occasions, could sway his auditors, which was one aim —perhaps he had a higher. The lives of Adams, Madison, Web-ster, Clay, Calhoun, Douglas, Lincoln, Blaiue present the various phases of achievement that result from the tendencies and attitudes of the men; but these are familiar. Athens sought orators and she produced them—"Orators that commanded silence in the very streets while the}'- spoke in the as-semblies. '' The poet sung his way to the hearts of the people and left cheer and inspiration there—which was his ambition. Milton's Paradise Eost is the result of great effort. Grey spent seven years on his Elegy. There was a time when England gave much attention to literature, and in the Elizabethan Age she produced Spencer, Shakespeare and Bacon together with many others scarcely less famous. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 115 But Ernest! He, like the others had heard the story of the mountain image in youth; but, unlike them, he had made it the study of his life. // was his ideal. He had seen it dimly through the morning fogs; he had seen it when the noonday sun made it effulgent or the storm-cloud cast over it an ominous shadow; he had looked upon it at evening until the ebon curtains of night shut itoff from mortal gaze. He it was Who had grown to resemble The Old Man of the Mountains; he was the counterpart of The Great Stone Face. TWO JOHN SMITHS L. W. GROSS, '01 TN a remote settlement in one of the upper counties of Pennsyl- •"■ vania there lived two men who both had the popular name of John Smith. Strange as it may seem, neither was related to the other nor to their illustrious namesake—the Virginia hero. These two men lived in a region once famous for its giant murmuring pines and its hemlocks, whose size is to this day re-vealed by the massive stumps which the. settlers removed from the ground and dragged to the roadside for the purpose of construct-ing iences on either side. Oftentimes the belated traveler would mistake their crooked gnarled roots, raised high above his head, for some giant ready to strike him down with a club. So fantastic and strange they appeared, making all sorts of weird forms and designs as they cast their crooked shadows athwart the road in the moonlight, that they startled and frightened anyone passing along this lonely road by night. In order to distinguish these two strange characters they were each given a special name to designate which John Smith was meant in talking about them. The one was called "Devil" John and the other "Lightning" John. Both names were descriptive of the personality of each man. Both persons were famous in the community. Of their early history I know nothing, but as my fancy pictures them to me now, I see them as aged men, perhaps 45 years of age. "Devil" John is tall, broad shouldered and slightly stooped. He goes about without a coat and has his trousers crowded into the tops of his boots. He wears a slouched hat and a lumberman's flannel shirt. He has long dark hair, mixed with gray, reaching nearly to his shoulders. His eyes are 116 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY small and of a grayish color, deeply set in his head, overhung by thick bristling eyebrows, and moved restlessly about when one looked at him. On the left side of his face is a scar which he says he received in an encounter with a bear. His face is nearly covered by his beard and moustache. His entire appearance arouses one's suspicion, yet his dealings with his neighbors are faultless. This man was the stage driver from the nearest railroad station to this particular place, which was a distance of sixteen miles. The way lay mostly through mountains and it required a full day to make the journey. To hear him relate his adventures with huge rattlesnakes, bears and highwaymen on the route made one think that he was a veritable "Tom Pinch." But this particular Smith's fame did not only consist in being a stage driver. That was a very small part of it. What he really was famous for was the fact that he was the biggest, the most skillful and accomplished liar in the community, besides other characteristics which contributed to his fame as a "character." Whenever the question in regard to the relative amount of pleasure derived from the pursuit or the realization of an object comes up, I think of a ride a young school teacher took on this particular stage. In contemplation of his journey he imagined himself seated on top of a huge coach, like a king upon his throne, with a coat-of-arms emblazoned upon the sides of the body of the vehicle. He imagined himself being drawn by at least four spirited horses at a full round gallop down the Narrows, around dangerous passes, over hill and dale. This was in contemplation. But what he realized when he stepped from the platform of the railway train was to find a disreputable old bay horse hitched to what was once a skeleton road wagon. It had been lengthened in order to make room for a trunk or two behind the driver's seat which was covered by a yellow umbrella. When the teacher inquired for the stage this odd combination was pointed out to him, and in a short time he was being driven over this route by the famous "Devil" John Smith. It took but a short time for the fact that he was the new school teacher to be known to the driver, and then into the credulous ears of this timid youth, who was already beginning to feel the pangs of disappointment and homesickness, were poured tales of all the bad boys in the school, making them appear as desperadoes, cowboys and veritable imps. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 117 He was told about the number of teachers who had been turned out of the school during the last term. All these stories were so well told that the unsuspecting pedagogue could not help but believe them, and before he was halfway over the route he wished himself in any other part of the world. The little children were deathly afraid of "Devil" John and would scamper away whenever they saw him coming. It was rumored that when his two children were sick with diphtheria he intentionally gave them carbolic acid instead of the proper medi-cine and thus killed them in a few minutes. This wicked act caused the children in the neighborhood to fear him. "Devil" John was also very irreligious, never being known to attend a religious service, and he frequently cursed his good wife who was a constant church goer. "Lightning" John Smith was famous for being the ugliest man as well as the loudest shouting Methodist in that part of the country. In appearance he resembled a Galilean bedouin. His hair and eyes were jet black. Beneath a scanty black mustache a row of well-preserved and very white teeth displayed themselves. Unlike the other John Smith he would drive for hours through cold winter nights in order to give his experience in the regular series of protracted meetings held in the Methodist church of that village during the winter months. He invariably began to speak slowly and in a moderate tone, but the longer he spoke the louder he became, until he fairly shrieked, bringing his hard fist down on the back of the pew for emphasis at the end of each sentence. The torrent of words and blows could be heard by passersby, who ofttimes took the commotion for the ravings of a mad man. After continuing his cries and shouting for some time he would sit down and wipe the perspiration from his brow. Thus we have a picture of two characters which have been interesting to me, and I doubt not that many others have seen these two persons in their own community under other names. c^p In every act reflect upon the end; and in the undertaking it consider why you do it.—JEREMY TAYLOR. 118 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY ON A SUNLIT HARBOR J. R. S., '01 On the pier of a beautiful harbor stand Three figures garbed in royal array, With anxiety stamped on their noble brows,— A youthful hero, and honored gray. 'Neath the watery horizon the sun reclines ! A sea of fire 's on the face of the deep! But the delicate hues from the sky shine not In a sea of glass; for wavelets leap. And the eyes of the three are fixed on a spot Far out on the troubled, uneasy sea; For the tide is receding and the breeze is brisk And a precious gem is borne to the lee. The gold and the violet and the pale green flame, Like the colors of a mighty banner flung On the harbor,—were caught by the playful waves, And from their crests in splendor hung. It was not this grandeur that held their gaze, Enrapt by the scene an only child Was carelessly drifting to the open sea, And tempests were rising o'er breakers wild. Said the father to the hero, "She ventured too far She can never return against those odds." And the stately mother with silvering locks Disturbed the silence by heart-breaking sobs. In an instant two skiffs, the pursued and pursuing, Were afloat in a splendor, rare and unreal, That makes life in this world an ecstasy, A glorious, painless star,—an ideal. And as twilight drew its shades o'er the deep The ideal became the real, indeed; For the rescue is complete and the treasure regained And hope made joy by a noble deed. When daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver white, And cuckoo buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight. —SHAKBSPBARE. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 119 TENNYSON'S "IN MEMORIAM" CLYDE B. WEIKEBT, '02 HPO attempt to criticise such a piece of literature as the "In A Memoriam" of Tennyson would be rashness on the part of one whom insufficient study and poor interpretation of thought has acquainted with but few ideas of the real import of the poem. This work has been done more or less ably by men of culture in the art of criticism, and to these we willingly commit the task, being satisfied ourselves with an attempt at the comparison of this work to several others alike in character; and with an estimate of the poem, its merits and worth. In comparing this poem with the "Lycidas" of Milton we are at once made conscious of a vast diversity in degree of feeling in the hearts of the two authors. Milton mourns for the loss of his friend but his sorrow is obviously not so deep-seated as that which Tennyson pours forth in the endearing terms of the "In Memor-iam." The relation of the former poet to the subject of his song was tender and full of feeling, but the intimacy that existed be-tween Tennyson and Hallam was infinitely closer. In the one case it was the love of friend for friend; in the other of brother for brother, mortal man for his ideal,—almost perfect love. This love is expressed in a poem by Milton that compares with the feeling expressed in the verses by Tennyson only as a set of res-olutions framed by a secret society on the death of a brother does with the tender verses penned by a mother on the death of her child. The circumstances of King's death and the sorrow caused by . it are not treated philosophically by Milton in the "Lycidas" as are the like circumstances by Tennyson in the "In Memoriam." His departure from this life is deeply regretted, but the pangs caused by his death are not referred to as bringing blessings in disguise to us. Sorrow is not represented as elevating or as de-signed to better our condition; as making us more perfect morally or spiritually. Separation from loved ones is not mollified by any such vivid assurances of a happy meeting in the hereafter. The thought of the departed ones is not used as a guiding star by which we can regulate our aims and measure our achievements. Again, Milton does not indulge in any of the happy explana-tions or rather suggestive questions concerning the future state of the soul as does Tennyson. These almost inexplicable problems 120 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY are dealt with in a most interesting way by the author of the "In Memoriam," for instead of expressing his own beliefs he rather intimates happy and probable solutions and gives to the mind of the reader a subject for thought. The most notable of our innate curiosities concerning eternity are voiced and the poet does not seemingly shun any one of them. Milton happily refers to his friend in glory but does not suggest near so many of his possible conditions there. The thought in the "Lycidas" is not so subtle, nor is the trac-ing of the poet's meaning nearly so difficult a task as in the "In Memoriam," yet its many mythological references render it far less enjoyable and less capable of interpretation by the unschol-arly. The poem of Tennyson's seems to conform more closely to Milton's statement, "Poetry should be simple, sensuous, and pas-sionate," than does his own. Shelley treats the death of John Keats in his "Adonais" more extensively than Milton does that of his friend in the "Lycidas.'' However, it may be said as was concerning the latter that the sorrow for Keats was not so heart-felt; his death did not affect the author so directly as Hallam's did Tennyson. Furthermore, the philosophical treatment is less as are also the intimations concern-ing eternity. The thought is more subtle than in the "Lycidas," though still far inferior to the "In Memoriam," and the language is less scholastic. But the poem seems to be more of a reprimand or an accusation against the author of the harsh criticisms against Keats, rather than a loving memorial and eulogy on his life. Words again fail in attempting an estimate of this poem. Pardoning a personal reference, let it be said that never has any piece of literature appealed to my emotions more than this. Never has the light and purity of perfect love for a friend been shown so forcibly as was by Tennyson in this memorial of Arthur Hallam. Ideality of character and ambitions seem to be the chief attributes which are assigned to his friend and these are worshipped with a steadfast devotion. A perfect consciousness of the super-iorities of his ideal kept the worshipper forever in loving awe of the worshipped one and became his only delight. The philosophical treatment of the subject is excellent. The poet never allows himself to become so enveloped in the cloud of sorrow as not to be able to see the light beyond. Through each pang which Hallam's death has caused him he sees the refinement THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 121 of his own nature. His death he realizes to be only the opportu-nity for further development which will render him a more perfect model after which to mould his own life. Even the spring-tide, when the advent of Arthur's birthday approaches is used to rep-resent the glorious season of immortality when friend shall meet friend to part no more. As to the allusions to the future, nothing could be more probable and suggestive than his opinions. The intimation of the development of the mind in after life along all lines of knowl-edge and wisdom on a more rapid and perfect scale is beautiful. The hope for recognition in glory is full of pathos and contains a happy, consoling thought. His reference to his friend as being with God, where he is only in his true sphere, shows a faith that is boundless and displays the most confident trust. Surely noth-ing could be more full of belief in and admiration for the Divine than the verse with which the poem is concluded: That God, which ever lives and moves, One God, one law, one element, And one far-off divine event, To which the whole creation moves." SONNET I think of her and try, all through the day, To see her face, and as I persevere L,ove lets me see, but the sweet lips appear Cold, and the eyes not yielding' blue, but gray, Hard gray ; her whole form seems to say me nay. In all the din of day I cannot hear Her voice ; but in the night it seems so near, Laughing and chiding all my doubt away, So near, I almost feel her breath ; I crave Fancy of I^ove ; he sweeps me with his wing And all the air around is sweet with her : I feel her breast to mine like a swelling wave And lingering lips light love-words murmuring, Melt into mine in a soft slipping blur. Mortimer Stirling, from Red and Blue. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entertdat the Postojjice at Gettysburg as second-class matter Voi,. X GETTYSBURG, PA., JUNE, 1901 No. 4 E. C. RUBY, '02, Editor-in- Chief R. ST. CLAIR POFFENBARGER,' 02, Business Manager J. P. NEWMAN, '02, Exchange Editor Assistant Editors Miss ANNIE M. SWAHTZ, '02 A. B. RICHARD, '02 Advisory Board PROF. J. A. HIMES, A. M., LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLBY, M. D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D. D. Assistant Business Manager CURTIS E. COOK, '03 Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg1) College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Fifteen Cents. Notice to discontinue sending the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors, and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS ¥ ITERARY societies are voluntary associations for educational ■"-^ purposes. They are entirely separate from the regular course of school and college work. In many instances they are established by the students themselves, and the officers are usually chosen from their own numbers. This gives them the opportun-ity to learn how to preside at public meetings and to become fa-miliar with the recognized methods of conducting the affairs per-taining to such organizations. It is in these societies that the young parliamentarian learns to make a motion or to rise to a point of order; the aspiring debater displays his skill in convincing his hearers that his opponents are wrong; and the coming orator pours forth his eloquence to his heart's content. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 123 The debates, the essays and the orations develop the powers of observation and expression. They promote readiness and in-dependence. Are these not some of the most valuable things which a man, who goes out into the world to try its realities, ought to possess ? Do we as students fully realize the importance of such an equipment ? In all true education the amount of knowledge communicated, however important it may be, is an entirely subordinate matter compared with the mental desires that are aroused and the mental power that is stored up. I once heard a man say that he did not care so much whether the teacher taught his son the facts in his-tory, but he did want him to create in him a taste for history. This expresses exactly the idea of our college course. How few, indeed, are the facts which we as students are able to gather while under the instruction of the professor compared with those that are gathered by men who are working by themselves in some chosen profession! Some of us regret that not more time can be spent in the classroom on the subject of botany. If the professor has succeeded in arousing a taste for the subject he has accom-plished his work. The student will then become his own teacher and a better one he could not find anywhere. The same is true in the department of literature. How few are the authors to whom we get but an introduction ! But if we have been led to love lit-erature, or have been made hungry, we will not be satisfied with what we get in the classroom. Could not the same be said of all the college work ? We should not come to college with the ex-pectation of going away with a load of facts and a feeling that we have all we want. If we do not go away with a greater appetite than when we came, we might as well have remained at home. c^P Duty is a power which rises with us in the morning and goes to rest with us at night. It is the shadow which cleaves to us, go where we will, and which only leaves us when we leave the light of life.—GLADSTONE. 124 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE PRESENT DlfEICULTY BETWEEN RUSSIA AND JAPAN ARTHUR B. RICHARDS, '02 rT,HE current literature of the last mouth has had much to say *■ concerning the threatened war between Japan and Russia. The province of Manchuria, situated on the eastern coast of Siberia, seems to be the bone of contention. Each nation has her own distinct reasons for wishing to bring this province under her control. What Russia desires is a harbor in the east. She now owns the greater part of Siberia, but can not develop the resources of this vast territory nearly so well as she could were she able to reach the eastern markets. With a seaport in the east Russia could greatly increase her commerce; she could trade directly with the islands of the Pacific. But in order to reach a harbor she must go through the center of Manchuria and she is now striving to hold this country until she can secure the right of way. Japan, on the other hand, has not room at home to accommo-date her industrious and ever-increasing population. The people can not all be cared for on the small island, and Japan has long been looking to Manchuria as a possible outlet. Moreover, Japan had gained a landing in Manchuria during the war with China in 1895, but was forced by Russia to withdraw. This Japan has not yet forgotten, nor is she ready to forgive it. These, in brief, are the principal causes of the threatened war. In case war were toensue.it is generally conceded that Russia would prove too strong for her rival. Manchuria would be the objective point, and could probably be reached and a landing effected by Japan. But she would be unable to hold out long against the superior laud force of Russia. In round numbers, Russia's army has 1,250,000 men to Japan's 90,000. Russia's troops, by the thousands, could be hurried across Siberia by means of the newly constructed railway, while Japan would be compelled to bring her army by the slow process of transportation. These considerations show that Japan's hope of success is very small, and with such odds against her it is not likely that she will be willing to clash arms with the formidable Russians. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 125 THE BADGE OF COURAGE CARRIE E. INGLEBIRT, '04 'T'HIS expression is doubtless familiar to nearly every one by ■"■ reason ol its being almost identical with the title of a recent and very popular book. You can read the words, pass on, and pay little attention to them, yet if the reader pauses and takes a deeper insight into them they gradually unfold a meaning which is far from being insignificant. Courage is a spiritual or innate force, which enables one to face trouble, danger, and even death, with that fearlessness which characterized the sainted martyrs of mediaeval days when being led forth to the stake. Amid the jeers and hisses of the surging crowds, they sang hymns. The American of today, living at too fast a pace to sing slow meter psalms in the face of danger, cheer-fully whistles. It is a somewhat common or popular opinion that courage can only be displayed upon the field of battle or other public places, in which the chief actors appear before the eye of the public. But this contention is false and unreasonable, as can be proven by examples almost without number. In all the humbler walks of life men and women, unseen and almost unheard of, show themselves to be heroes and heroines of the most courageous type. Do not the city papers bring to our notice page aftef page of noble soul-stirring deeds performed at a most perilous risk of life ? And despite the idea that news items are often fictitious, these cannot all be the products of ingenious reporters. With no disparagement to the soldier, it may be said that he has ever before him, as a stimulus to courageous deeds, the hope of promotion from the ranks. But no such red badge of courage adorns the man who saves another in distress, passes on into the crowds, and is lost sight of. Such instances are witnessed fre-quently in our large cities. The laurel and myrtle wreaths are reserved exclusively for those who are valorous in time of public danger, while the one who, from an unselfish Christian motive, takes his life in his hand, remains unrecognized. Out of the multiplicity of instances may we not treat of just a few ? To whom shall the badge of courage go with more pro-priety or justness than to those who leave home, and all the 126 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY sacred interests which are clustered around the homestead, and sail far away, across the sea to the sunny isles of a southern clime, there to become ministering angels to the suffering human beings stricken with leprosy. It is almost certain to be their first and last journey ; for who, with the meagre knowledge of man, can tell when they, too, will be in the same sad plight ? Let us also spare a kindly thought for the mothers, wives and clear ones of the hero who buckles on his belt and sword and goes forth to war. Must not pain and anguish almost wrack those fond hearts at the separation, which can so easily be final ? Surely, do the dear ones at home anxiously scan the daily mortality list, as sent out by the army. And then the startling intelligence reaches them that their hero has gone down in battle, or, sadder still, has fallen a victim to the wages of disease. No more will his cheery whistle resound through the house, or his happy smile chase the shadows of care and trouble away as the rising sun dis-pels the morning mist. It is altogether befitting that upon these sorrow-laden ones we pin the badge of courage. What emblem of courage should we give to such as these for their self-sacrificing devotion to their trust ? Theirs is the self-consciousness of work well done, of obligation carried out, of duty faithfully fulfilled, and no more honorable badge of courage can be secured at our hands than this. They know, as Christians, that they have answered the demands of their Maker, and the ringing plaudits of the people are as the singing of birds in their ears. The highest aspiration in life should be to do the best at all times, and in all places. And now, this having been done, a distinct feeling of satisfaction must surely be felt. Having endeavored to prove the theory already advanced, may we not conclude that the true badge of courage is not neces-sarily the red one for valor in time of danger, but is really the white, that one symbolic of purity and innocence, which is not secured in this sphere, but when the possessor has left the earthly scenes, and stands forth in the clear radiance of another world, then is the true reward, the real badge of courage, seen in its highest and holiest sense. The hearts of men are their books; events are their tutors; great actions are their eloquence.—Macaulay. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 127 TRANSLATION OF HORACE I. 35 ABDEL E. WENTZ, JK., '04 O peaceful goddess, favored Antium's queen, Thou who canst raise a humble man to fame, And turn proud triumphs wondrous to be seen To funerals—all men adore thy name. The rustic farmer prays to thee in fear; To thee as mighty mistress of the sea, Whoever tries through boisterous waves to steer, Directs his prayer, that he secure may be. The warlike Dacian flees before thy face; Whole towns and nations look to thee for aid. The strength of kings depends upon thy grace; The power of despots all on thee is staid. They know that thou canst overthrow the state, And quickly rouse the idle ones to arms; They stand before thee trembling lest their fate Shall prove thee to be worthy of alarms. Stern Doom is ever foremost in thy train; She bears her emblems in her brazen hand: The huge beam—nail, the wedge, the clamps, the chain, And melted lead, to make thy edicts stand. Pure Faith and Hope are both thy steadfast friends, They follow thee whatever may betide; To thee each one an earnest friendship lends, Nor can misfortune drive them from thy side. As Caesar sails for distant Britain's shore, Do thou protect and keep him by thy might; Defend our youthful soldiers, we implore, And may they be successful in the fight. Alas! the awful crimes in which we've shared! Too long have civil wars abased our pride; What altars in our madness have we spared? What kind of evil have we left untried? O grant to forge the blunted sword anew! Remove from us the cause of all our woes; Bestow on us thy grace in all we do, And help us to subdue our cruel foes. 128 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE USE OF THE NOVEL BESS DRAIS, '04 TX EPRIVED of books the world would be robbed of one of its *-/ most essential joys. They are one of the few profitable things that afford unalloyed pleasure. In books, the mind has scope, something to develop its power and something that feeds it. There are thousands of standard works of fiction which are wholesome in tendency, purely educators of the mind. The bright accounts of travel, witty discussions, lively or pathetic story-telling in the form of a novel, is a singular characteristic of the present age. We should read them not merely to be occupied but to weigh and consider, although their purpose is, in a measure, to delight, relieve and amuse. A novel to be of great value, however, must be true to life. If it excites sympathy it will help us to see our own faults as well as the failings of others and will teach us to make an allowance for human nature. The novel superseded the drama when the latter had become unprofitable; not content with this, it makes high aims to rival history by discussing the great deeds of the past and the burning questions of the present; for its general use is culture, teaching history or science, thus reaching many people with its truths which would not be read elsewhere. In times of despondency, when even life seems monotonous, novels sustain and cheer, showing us the truest side of human na-ture which we are often inclined to imitate. Grounded on truth they arouse our moral imagination causing us to think—to think very seriously of our own weak selves. But truth is not the only requisite. The novel, to be profitable as well as entertaining, needs love. Of course I do not mean that sentimental art of love-making,' but rather a tender feeling for hu-manity and the conditions of man. Hawthorne, in his novels, pictures a higher ideal of life by making virtue more attractive and vice more repulsive. He goes deeper and higher than mere literalness; he. sees life as a whole but after all the true things are the spiritual things. At a certain age we are most amused by the unnatural and supernatural, but, as it has been said, when we grow older we realize that life itself has the best outlook for us and the most interesting fiction is that THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY . 129 which shows us life as it is. So every novel does have a purpose,' and whatever that purpose ma)' be it will be truly noble if built on the appreciation of human love, human courage and human character. A VISIT TO VALHALLA P. W. EYSTER, '03 /^\NE day in May after a shower of rain, a student while walk- ^^ ing over the scene of Pickett's charge in quest of relics found a ring, which had been washed out of the ground. On close examination he found it to be a broad, silver ring, which bore the device of two triangles, crossing each other in such a way as to form the representation of a star. King Solomon, the Wise, is said to have invented this device, which is of great use to enchanters and conjurers, but as the student was not well versed in the signs of magic he could not appreciate its value and carelessly placing the ring on the little finger of his left hand, returned to college. He was a member of society and attended the parties and enter-tainments given by the hospitable people of Gettysburg. In the latter part of May, on a beautiful moonlight night, there was a party given by his friends near L,ittle Round Top. He went to this party where he enjoyed himself until a late hour, when he saw that a certain young lady got home safely. He challenged her to walk on Little Round Top past the statue of Gen. Warren. She being active, accepted the challenge. They left their friends and when they reached the summit, being out of breath, they seated themselves on a rock near the statue for a brief rest. While they were resting, the statue commenced to speak, moving its jaws as if rusted from disuse. It said, "You, young man, have a ring on your finger bearing the representation of a star; that ring is the key to Valhalla. The fates have decreed that the gates of Valhalla shall not be opened by the hand of a man, even though he possess the ring with the star, but if the young lady will touch the rock upon which I stand after you have placed the silver ring on her finger, the gates of Valhalla shall for the first time be opened to mortal man." The ring having been placed on the young lady's finger, she touched the rock upon which the statue stands. Immediately there was a loud report like that of thunder, and the rock moved 130 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY aside leaving an opening where the two entered. After entering they found themselves on a grassy plain. They saw at a distance a body of English soldiers dressed in bright red uniforms, lined up for battle. Soon another body of soldiers appeared but not so gayly dressed as the other. At the head of this was the venerable George Washington preparing to fight for the thousandth and first time the battle of Yorktown. Washington rode before his men and said: "See those Red-coats, shoot for their belts, we must win the day or perish on a bed of honor." The English advanced, but the soldiers of the "land of the free and the home of the brave" being determined to win drove the Redcoats over their entrenchments. The visitors advanced farther and saw at a distance embank-ments of cotton-bales and earth thrown up, behind which were a few thousand men. Seeing Andrew Jackson riding near them they asked him what his men were waiting for. He said, "They are waiting to thrash the army which defeated Napoleon on the world-famed battlefield of Waterloo." The English army ad-vancing under Gen. Packenham soon attacked the embankments of Jackson's soldiers but was driven back in confusion under a writhing fire from the American guns. The next scene which met the visitors' eyes was a battle be-tween soldiers wearing the blue and those wearing the gray. As a regiment of soldiers were filing past the visitors, the young man asked a soldier, who was in the rear, what they were about to do. He replied, "We are going to fight the battle of Gettysburg, where we will show to the world that 'Republics shall stand and king-doms fall.' And we will teach the kings of Europe that 'a gov-ernment of the people, for the people, and by the people' is a possibility." By this time the battle was going on in dead earn-est. Valhalla was resounding from the artillery duel between the contending armies. Soon a division of the Confederate army, advancing from the smoke, charged the Union breast-works. A hand to hand conflict ensued, and above the rattle of the musketry could be heard the groans of the wounded and dying men. During the excitement of the battle the young lady carelessly lost the ring, when there was a clap of thunder and the visitors again stood on Little Round Top. Oh! had this woman not been so careless as to lose the key to Valhalla, we might visit at our leisure the warriors contending on the bloody battle-field of Val- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 131 halla. But just as Eve was the cause of the downfall of man, so this Gettysburg maid, one of the daughters of Eve, was the cause of the loss of the key to that mysterious realm of the soldiers' heaven. But what is the use of mourning over the misfortunes of mankind, since we cannot add a cubit to our stature. After they had stood for a while on Eittle Round Top, breathing the atmosphere of mortal men, they started for the young lady's home. When the two separated, they promised each other to keep their visit to Valhalla a secret. But putting a secret in a woman's braiu is like pouring water on a sieve. So, dear reader, I have the pleasure of recording the incidents of a visit to Valhalla. c*$J AN INDIAN LEGEND A. 0. WOLFE, '04 To the westward, afar o'er the prairies is the land where the Sierra Nevadas Rear aloft their bald heads to the heavens; and reach out with their mystical shadows, Just as though the grim soul of the mountains stretched its hundred hands forth o'er the valley, To rebeckon its armies of whirlwinds, or to summon its thunders to rally. There the smiling- Yosemite valley, 'neath the sheltering crags of the mountains, Robed in tropical green and in freshness as is grass near the spray of a fountain, Stretches out with its slow winding river; and with a waving ocean of petals, Attempts, in its alluvial bosom, to conceal all its glittering metals. In the valley a town of the Shoshones, nestled snugly 'tween mountain and river, Seemed asleep in the afternoon sunlight; for the red men with bow and with quiver, Far away o'er the snowy capped mountains, sought the flesh of the deer on the prairie Or the lumbering buffalo hunted. The village, by the wand of a fairy, Seemed a quaint painting conjured on canvas; e'en the butterfly breezes were leaving The fierce watch dogs alone to their dreaming; and the squaws stopped anon at their weaving 132 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY With the maidens to witness the sunset. At some distance removed from the village Walked the wife of the red warrior's chieftain. She had gone the green meadow to pillage Of its succulent roots and its fruitage. To her right her child toddling and straying Neared the place where a crystal spring bubbling with itself like an infant was playing. From aloft in the transparent ether on bold pinions descended an eagle, Which at first seemed a speck in the zenith; then as bent on a purpose illegal, Nearer and larger it grew till at length, like a bolt from a bow it de-scended, Grasped ithe Indian child in its talons, and aloft to the wild crags ascended. Such a scream from the lips of the mother as might waken to life the departed, Roused the idling maids in the village. They beheld as she frantically started Up the steep ragged side of the mountain, that she further and further retreated In pursuit of her child and the eagle. But her journey was not half completed Ere a wild hissing sound through the branches, the dark gathering clouds and the thunder, The swift pattering fall of the rain drops, and the tossing of tree tops in wonder, All proclaimed the approach of the tempest. The elements crash! The wild winds bellow! And the day reels and rocks into darkness. Then the lightning shot forth in the yellow And sulphurous turmoil of ether in a network of serpentine flashing, Till the hills on their very foundations seemed to rock at its terrible crashing. And the storm is abroad in the mountains! The oracular hills and the hollows Are appalled at the noise of his stamping; and the brook in the gulch where he wallows L,eaps its bounds, in its anger, a torrent. Then from bastion to bastion each moment In the chaldron of vapor below with a roaring and rumbling the sound went Of the battering peal of the thunder. Millions or more of roused echoes arose When the wind rushing forth in his fury, left the blue ocean in placid repose And encamped 'mong the paralyzed hemlocks. And he howls as he hounds down his quarry. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 133 And his lash tears the hair of the oak tree, which, with womanish fear in its flurry, As it clings to the rock with torn garments, is bewailing- its fate and the morning'. Then this fierce guide of storm and of terror rushes off with a hoarse note of warning Through the intricate maze of the branches. There is war in the skies! And the midnight, Doubly mocked by its own apparitions, quickly cringes and shrinks from the flashlight Of the murderous bolt of the lightning. Then the storm passes on to the ocean, And has left the dark mountains in quiet and the night-fairies filled with emotion. But the Indian child and the mother passed from life into death in its maelstroms; And the eagle bore skyward their spirits to the glad Hunting Ground of the Shoshones. As they sail through the night wind, richly lit by the glow of the moon-light, The bright orbs of the sky in amazement reel and swim in their oceans of starlight. All the spirits of beasts of the forest quickly flee the approach of the stranger, As a herd of wild deer on the prairie run away at the first sign of danger- Then a buffalo, older and wiser to oppose their advancing, had started, But the bold, fearless soul of the mother raised her hand and the wild beast departed; And at once in its place was the sunrise, was the glad Hunting Ground of the Shoshones. EXCHAINGES IT is a relief to turn from the somewhat tedious prose articles of * the college magazine to its lighter contents. We are not among those who say that the literary monthly should be com-posed entirely of short stories, but we do believe there should be enough light material to relieve the tedium which necessarily arises from the perusal of a number of theoretical articles, which are often difficult of comprehension. Because of its pleasing va-riety, The College Student holds first place among our last month's exchanges. Nearly all the magazines contain some fiction—The Touchstone and The Lesbian Herald too much, according to our opinion. 134 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY "The Poet's Corner" of the Dickinson Literary Monthly is always entertaining. " The "Wreck " is a vivid descriptive poem in the last number. The Shakespeare edition of The Coitey College Chronicle is full of excellent articles on the great dramatist and his work. Half-tones of the poet, his own and Ann Hathaway's home, make the magazine very attractive. " Nescius Aurae Fallacis " in The Western University Courant is the title of a story on a phase of college life which is probably familiar to most students. A PICTURE OF FANCY I. There's a vale in the far away mountains Where the pinnacle barriers stand Like guards in the outskirts of nature To shut in the peace of the land. Here, wild and alone, great boulders are strewn And there sweeps a beautiful lawn; And the Angel of Light brings a rose every night To hang on the curtains of dawn. II. She forgets not to pause in the evening And spread o'er the heavens a glow, With a picture whose secret of painting No mortal man ever shall know; When the stars are asheen and the skies are serene, And the soft clouds gently are driven, She changes the scene and the moon glides between Like a ray through the window of heaven. III. I gaze on the depths of the morning And all like a glory doth seem, I find in the twilight resplendent, A divine and immaculate dream. And touched by the wand of some magical hand, All the raptures of fancy unroll; And a music unknown, like a deep undertone, Is awaked in the harp of the soul. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 135 IV. Would I Bell the sweet picture of fancy- Though its being were nought but a name? No not for the wormwood of glory, And not for the bubble of fame. It is sweet to be near to the eye and the ear, Of a Father who watches above, To study how grand are the works of His hand, And to catch little secrets of love. Ex. How much energy, vitality, effort, is being expended every day fruitlessly because of the want of intelligent application ! Even among students of college there are some who, though they are sincerely studious in their daily work, pass through their course without having attained the best which their opportunity affords and their efforts seem to deserve.—Ex. "To me, I swear, you're a volume rare;" But she said, with a judicious look, "Your oath's not good by common law, Until you've kissed the book." —Ex. THE COLLEGE GIRL There's a gladness in her gladness When she's glad; There's a sadness in her sadness When she's sad; But the gladness of her gladness, And the sadness of her sadness, Aren't a marker to the madness Of her madness When she's mad. —Ex, PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Botcher Beef, Veal, Pork, Lamb, Sausages. Special rates to Clubs. In buying don't forget the Advertisers; They support us. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President aud Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON, Superintendent. flammeistomn Bromti Stone Gompany Quarrymen and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonville, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Telegraph and Express Address. Cut Stone Work. BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. For a nice sweet loaf of Bread call on J. RAiUER Baker of Bread and Fancy Cakes, GETTYSBURG. PA. ~ EIMER & AMEND, Manufacturers and Importers of Chemicals and Chemical Apparatus 205, 307, 209 and 211 Third Avenue, Corner 18th Street NEW YORK. Finest Bohemian and German Glassware, Royal Berlin and Meissen Porcelain, Pure Hammered Platinum, Balances and Weights. Zeiss Mi-croscopes and Bacteriological Apparatus; Chemical Pure Acids and Assay- Goods. SCOTT PAPER COMPANY MAKERS OF FINE TOILET PAPER 7th and Greenwood Ave. PHILADELPHIA PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Century Double-Feed Fountain Pen. Fully Warranted J6 Kt. Gold Pen, Iridium Pointed. GEO. EVELER, Agent for Gettysburg College PRICE LIST. No. 1. No. 1. No. 3. No. 3. Chased, long or short $2 00 Gold Mounted 3 00 Chased 3 00 Gold Mounted 4 00 Spiral, Black or Mottled $2 SO Twist, " 2 50 Hexagon, Black or Mottled 2 SO Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted S 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO., WHITEWATER, WIS. Askyour Stationer or our Agent to show them toyou. Agood local agent wanted in every school 71 We Print This Book THE MT. HOLLY STATIONERY AND PRINTING CO. does all classes of Printing- and Binding-, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or anything pertain-ing to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same elsewhere. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co. SPRINGS1;^A. H. S. BENNER, .DEALER IN. Groceries, Notions, Queensware, Glassware, Etc., Tobacco and Ggars. J7 CHAMBERSBURG ST. WE RECOMMEND THESE BUSINESS MEN. Pitzer House, (Temperance) JNO. E. PITZER, Prop. Rates $1.00 to $1.25 per day. Battlefield a specialty. Dinner and ride to all points of interest,including the th ree days* fig-lit, $1.25. No. 127 Main Street. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Sta-tionery at the People's Drug Store Prescriptions a Specialty. J. A. TAWNEY_^_ Is ready to furnish Clubs and Boarding Houses with Bread, Rolls, Etc. At short notice and reasonable rates. Washington & Middle Sts., Gettysburg. R. A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc* Scott's Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. M. B. BENDER Furniture IRON BEDS, MATTRESSES, SPRINGS Picture Framing and Repair Work done Promptly 27 BALTIMORE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. .00 TO. fjotel (Gettysburg Barber Sfyop. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON W.F.CODORI, m^Tc^do^i Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal, Sausage. Special rates to Clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG. .GO TO. CHAS. E. BARBEHENN, Barber In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Washington Sts. CHAS. S. MUMPER (Formerly of Mumper & Bender) Furniture Having opened a new store opposite W. M. R. R. Depot, will be pleased to have you call and examine goods. Picture Framing promptly attended to. Repair Work a Specialty Students' Trade Solicited FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. Spalding's Official League Ball and Athletic Goods Officially adopted by the lead-ing Colleges, Schools and Athletic Clubs of the Country Every Requisite for— BASE BALL FOOT BALL OOLF TENNIS ATHLETICS GYMNASIUM Spalding's Official League Bail Is the Official Ball of the National Iveague, the princi-pal minor leagrues and all the leading college associations Handsome Catalogue of Base Ball and all Athletic Sports Free to any address Spalding's Offi-cial Base Ball Guide for 1901, edited by Henry Chadwick, ready March 30,1901. Price 10 cents. A. Q. SPALDINQ & BROS., Incorporated NEW YORK CHICAGO DENVER ROWE, Your Grocer Carries Pull Line ol Groceries, Canned Goods, Etc. Best Coal Oil and Brooms at most Reasonable Prices. OPPOSITE COLLEQE CAMPUS. S. J. CODORI, *#Druggists Dealer in Drugs, Medicines, Toilet Articles, J> Stationery, Blank Books, Amateur Pho-tographic Supplies, Etc., Etc. BALTIMORE ST. R. H. GULP PAPER HANGER, Second Square, York Street. COLLEGE EMBLEMS. EMIL ZOTHE, ENGRAVER, DESIGNER AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER. 19 S. NINTH ST. PHILADELPHIA SPECIALTIES: Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered through A. N. Beau. A. C Miller Job Printer Students' Trade Solicited Best of Work Guaranteed Meneely Bell Co. TROY, N. Y. MANUFACTURERS OF SUPERIOR BELLS The 2000 pound bell now ringing in the tower of Pennsylvania Col-lege was manufactured at this foundry. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Pleased Customer Is not a stranger in our establish-ment— he's right at home, you'll see him when you call. We have the materials to please fastidious men. J. D. LIPPY, Merchant Tailor 39 Chambersburg" St., Gettysburg, Pa. L Try My Choice Line of .} £ High-Grade Chocolates 3 ¥¥ at 4flc per lb. Always fresh at CHAS. H. McCLEARY Carlisle St., Opposite W Also Foreign and Domestic Fruits A 3 ARY J Mil. R. R. p Y' Always on Hand. L. D. Miller, GROCER Confectioner and Fruiterer. Ice Cream and Oysters in Season. 19 Main St. GETTYSBURG City Hotel Main St. Gettysburg. Free 'Bus to and from all Trains Thirty seconds' walk from either depot Dinner with drive over field with four or more, $1.35 Rates $1.50 to $2.00 per day- John E. Hughes, Frop. Capitol Cits Cafe Cor. Fourth and Market Sts. HARRISBURG, PA. First-Class Rooms Furnished. Special Rates to Private Parties. Open Day and Night. European Plan. Lunch of All Kinds to Order at the Restaurant. ALDINGER'S CAPITOL CITY CAFE. POPULAR PRICES F. Mark Bream, Dealer in Fancy and Staple Groceries Telephone 29 Carlisle St., GETTYSBURG, PA. JxMijjJ^^hy .Photographer. No. 3 Main St., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. Our new effects in Portraiture are equal to photos made anywhere, and at any price. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS ftlrigbi 140-142 Woodward Avenue DETROIT, MICH. Manufacturers of High Grade Fraternity Emblems Fraternity Jewelry Fraternity Novelties Fraternity Stationery Fraternity Invitations Fraternity Announcements Fraternity Programs Send for Catalogue and Price List. Special Designs on Application. HOTEL GETTYSBURG LIVERY GETTYSBURG, PA. LONG & NOLTZWORTH, Proprietors Apply at Office in the Motel for First-Class Guides and Teams TME BATTLEFIELD A SPECIALTY Zhe Bolton Market Square Ibarrfaburg, ff»a. Large and Convenient Sample Rooms. Passeng-er and J5a.gga.ge Elevator. Electric Cars to and from Depot. Electric Light and Steam Heat. J. M. & M. S. BUTTERWORTH, Proprietors Special Rates for Commer-cial Men "EZ 1ST IMMER CUT ET WAS ZU WISSEIN." These are the words of Goethe, the great German poet, and are as true in our day as when uttered. In these times of defective vision it is good to know something about eyes. A great deal has been learned about the value of glasses and their application since Goethe lived. Spectacle wearers have increased by thousands, while at the same time, persons losing their eyesight have been greatly diminished. If your eyes trouble you in any way let me tell you the cause. Examination free and prices reasonable. We grind all our own lenses and fit the best lenses (no matter what anyone else has charged you) for $2.50 per pair and as cheap as SO cents per pair, or duplicate a broken lens if we have one-half or more of the old one, at a reasonable charge, returning same day received. .E. L. EGOLF. 807 and 809 North Third Street, FIARRISBURG, PA. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Pentpol J-fotel, ELIAS F1SSEL, Prop. (Formerly of Globe Hotel) Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. Two doors from Court House. MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. Steam Heat, Electric Lig-ht and Call Bells all through the House. Closets and Bath Rooms on Every Floor. Sefton & Flem-ming's Livery is connected with this Hotel. Good Teams and Competent Guides for the Battlefield. Charges Moderate, Satisfaction Guaranteed. Rates $1.50 Per Day. GET A SKATE ON And send all your Soiled Linen to the Gettysburg Steam Laundry R. R. LONG, Prop. Horace Partridge & Co., BOSTON, MASS. Fine Athletic Goods Headquarters for Foot Ball, Gym-nasium, Fencing and Track Supplies. Send for Illustrated Catalog. 84 and 86 Franklin Street R. W. LENKER, Agent at Penna. College. JOHN M. MINNIQH, Confeetionery, lee, • »««Iee Creams-*-* Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. HARim §. 3EFTON The Leading Barber v>f)op (Successor to C. C. Sefton) Having1 thoroughly remodeled the place is now ready to accommodate the public Barber Supplies a Specialty. .Baltimore Street. GETTi^URCj., PA. ESTABLISHED 1876 PENROSE MYERS, Watchmaker and Jeweler Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, Col-lege Souvenir Spoons. NO. lO BALTIMORE ST., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. L. t\. kiitm Manufacturers' Agent and Jobber of Hardware, Oils, Paints and Queensware. OETTYSBURa, PA. The Only Jobbing House in Adam* County. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. For Fine. Printing go to Tfe Jo Co Wile foitiipg Honje CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. R. M. Elliott Dealer in Hats, Caps, Shoes and. Gents' Furnishing Goods Corner Center Square and Carlisle Street GETTYSBURG, PA. EDGARS. MARTIN, ^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. %2** w^v^ Charnbersburg St., Gettysburg Leadership . IN THE CLOTHING and MEN'S PURNISHING Business It is strictly here—everybody knows it. Testimony? The stock itself. The pen suffi-ciently nimble to tell all the good points of our ::::::: FALL AND WINTER. SUITS AND OVERCOATS has not been found. We will keep you dressed right up-to-date if you buy your Clothing and Furnishings here. : : : : STIINE McPherson Block. No. II BALTIMORE STREET ,--.-;. Ibotcl (Bett^sbutQ. ©ett^burg, pa. ZlDerville IE. Ztnn, proprietor r^^^^gsS^S^S^-* The Leading Hotel Rates $2.00 per Day Long & Holtzworth Livery Attached Cuisine and Service First-Class Look for Wm. M. Seligman's Advertisement on this page in our next issue

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

Issue 44.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1985. ; Expectations of CommUnity Inculturation A Theology of Death and Grief The Discernment of Ministry: a Process Volume 44 Number 6 Nov./Dec., 1985 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR RELIG|OUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by R EVlEW FOR R ELtqtOUS~ Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write R EV1EW FOR RELIGtOUg 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 Nov./Dec., 1985 Volume 44 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW t-'on RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis Martin O'Reilly, C E C. This article by Brother O'Reilly, Formation Director for his community in Liberia and Sierra Leone was originally prepared as a position paper undertaken in connection ,with the development of a novitiate program for West Africans seeking to join his community. Brothe,r may be addressed care of the Christian Brothers; P.O. Box 297; Monrovia, Liberia. It is difficult to name what'is a~tually done in religious formation. Although the enterprise has a recognizable history dating back at least to the time of St. Benedict, when we raise the question: What are we doing when we form others to be religious? there is little consensus about the nature of the activity. A more abstract question, .such as: What is Religious IJfe? might be more easily answered. But religious formation is not an ahistorical abstraction. - It is a practical activity. Men and women enter religious communities, and other men and women are "sent" to form them. Formation, as such, does not exist, there is only what people do, and want to do, in its name. This article will consist of a brief survey.of the principle approaches to religious formation current today, anda proposed tentative defintion of formation that gives equal weight to the past, present and future dimensions of a religious community. Although theory will not provide simplistic answers to such questions as: "When do we give the habit?" it does provide a basis for ascertaining whether one's practices are consistent with one's beliefs and for understanding how new insights and differing circumstances may modify existing practices. Perennialist Conception of Religious Formation The ."perennialist" position, exemplified by much of pre-Vatican II 1101 1~02 / Review for Religious, November-Dec.ember, 1985 religious formation, is based mainly on the authoritative position of the "formator" as the person entrusted with the task of instructing others in the perennial truths of religious life. The relationship of formator and those being "formed" is in the context of master and pupils. The person who is responsible for formation is very conscious of the expectations of those in higher authority that, certain permanent truths are being taught in a didac-tic manner. The principal model of instruction is that best described as "teaching." The starting point is usually the prescribed constitutions, the life of the founder or foundress, and the history of the congregation. The theoretical motivation for both formator and those being formed is in essence the same: he or she is to teach, and the novices are to learn. Of course, it is presumed that there are other factors operating, so that the novices' personal understanding of being religious is complemented by their actual life in community. The duties of a good religious are empha-sized in various ways: by being reminded of their personal responsibility for coming to know and accept their call from God through frequent conferences; by being encouraged to be loyal to their formation group, and to be obedient at all times to those in authority. Besides regular prayer and Mass, numerous devotional exercises and retreat days ensure that a sense of piety is being fostered. It is quite natural that such an'approach to formation tends to emphasize the descriptive rather than the prescriptive elements of religious life. The value of much of its style and method is in its precision in indicating what has to be learned and understood about becoming a religious. But by the same token it is all too easy to produce a hothouse variety of religious who, vocation-wise, wither in the more temperate zones of regular and imperfect community life. Such an approach can fail to distinguish sufficiently between the precepts of the religious life and the vocational growth and development of those in formation, with the result that conformity is substituted for free response. This is not to say that the perennialist approach is altogether unsatisfac-tory. Many outstanding religious have come through such an initiation into religious life. For those who have come from devout Christian homes, such a formation style undoubtedly offers a security and an initial certainty that religious life is for them. But however beneficial such a model of formation may be for some, it can only be unrealistic in relation to those coming from a secularized background,,or who live in a situation where the Church herself is still very young. Essentialist Conception of Religious Formation The essentialist position, as represented by ReneCarpentier, holds that Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis / 1103 the .religious life is "above all things a life, a Christian life, a life based on the Gospel and one with the Church."1 Carpentier's work in Belgiumin the 1950s convinced him that the obligations of religious life seemed to be treated as ends in themselves. There was very little Good News about the religious life~ He therefore advocated a return to the sources of religious life, viz. Christ, the Church, and the Scriptures. The biggest challenge offered by Carpentier to religious formators was for them to underpin their work with a genuine theology of religious life: ~It is not enough to show them the religious state as a life apart, closed in oh itself and "withdrawn from the world." It is to the religious life, within the Church, that our Lord's words may be applied: "You are the light of the world." We must show its relationships with .the Church and the world, and with salvation and sanctificati6n of all men. We must have recourse to a "theol6gy" of~ the religious life,2 Advocates of the essentialist approach to formation work concentrate on imparting an understanding of religious life as a living out of the ¯ "essential" Christian ideals. The emphasis placed upon providing a gcriptu-ral and theological rationale for religious life gives an intellectual flavor to formation, and casts the formator in a "lecturer" role as opposed to the perennialist "master-pupil" approach. Because essentialist formators share the belief that religious formation is largely a matter of intellectual training, the interests and needs of those in formation are of limited value for determining the nature and content of the foniiation program. While essentialism gives a needed, firm intellectual underpinning to religious formation, it is largely an adult concept, which in turn requires a certain adult ability to view reality in a holistic fashion. Many in such a formation program, however, fail to see the relevance to their own lives of courses in Scripture, theology, church history and liturgy.' The problem with this approach, as with the perennialist pathway, is that it is character-~ ized by what can be called a "pedagogy of. object" i.e., the models of learning it relies upon are almost exclusively concerned with handing on the.charism of religious life, which itself is taken as an unchanging and universally understood aim. Admittedly, the essentialist approach looks more towards the dynamic nature of the Christian life to provide the context for ~understanding the nature of the religiouS vocation, but it underplays the aspects of the "present" and "future" of society, the Church, religious life, and the persons themselves who are preparing for religious profession. Existential Conception of Religious Formation The keynote of the existential approach is basically its concern with the 804 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 subject io be formed in his or her actual life situation. The words which characterize this approach are sincerity, dynamic', commitment; relevance, authenticity, choice,freedom, and experience. For those who look at for-mation. in this way, the key to .human and Christian living is the continuing choice of an "authentic" way of life. lnauthenticity means taking shelter behind the routines, the trivialities and the morally undemanding patterns of everyday life. ,To be authentic means to acknowledge basic moral chal-lenges, to be open to the ambiguities and contradictions of life, and to respond to them by committing oneself afresh to the values one perceives to be at the heart of a meaningful existence. Religious life, in the existentialist sense, is viewed and understood asan expression of the life of faith, and so must find its verification in real life. If it is not to be a dead faith, it must be acted out in deeds. For the existential-ist, it is the motivation, not the forms, of religious life that differentiates the religious vocation from that of others. In practice a formator schooled .in existentialist thinking will give prom-inence to discussion methods as the way of learning, and will emphasize the importance of the differences in the life situation of each candidate in his or her personal response to the call of religious life. A greater measure of freedom will be extended in various ways to those being formed, and the view will be encouraged that both formator and those in formation are engaged in a common enterprise of discerning the personal and social significance of the vowed life. Constitutions and histories of the congrega-tion will have only a limited role in an approach such as this. They may serve as reference or guideline, but hardly as a starting point. Emphasis therefore will tend to be much more on a diversity of sources--literature, films, music and newspapers--indeed all the sources of. information encountered in ordinary.living. There will be a fundamental sense in which it is important not to be specific about particular means of being a religious, because what is being described arises from the life-situations of those concerned. Without doubt the existen.tiai approach makes being involved in reli-gious formation a very creative and personally satisfying experience. Con-cern for the giftedness and insights of those entering religious life had rarely been present in the previous history of religious formation. Sadly these insights had been largely subordinated to the immediate needs and interests of the congregation, and formation was more often than not more a training or domesticating than a forming. The existential pathway, on the contrary, asks the formator to believe that he or she is living and praying with people who are alread3; under the influence of the Holy Spirit. The chief problem ~vith this approach to formation arises from the fact Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis / 805 that the breadth of it provides no clue as to the kinds of experiences that properly should be provided by a formation community. The implication is that., since each candidate's experience of life is unique, each one must have his or her own formation program. Faith and well-meaning, however, are insufficient to fill the vacuum created by the abandonment of a well-de-fined initiation process. It was Dewey who said that when personal fulfill-ment is severed from intellectual activity, "freedom of self-expression turns into something that might better be called 'self-exposure'.''3 Furthermore, when too much emphasis is placed on the "inner search for meaning" of those in formation, the past heritage of a religious congregation can easily be forgotten, and responsibility for 'the future ignored; hence the shared vision that binds a group together can also become lost. ° Socialization Conception of Religious Formation The title of this approach may seem odd, for there has always been a strong community basis to formation in the sense that those being formed have lived, worked and played together in preparation for the time when they would join the wider community of the congregation. Indeed one of the important prerequisites for profession was "suitability for community life." But here the .term "socialization" is being used in a special sense, that of a planned, intensive~group experience involving both professed and nonprofessed members. The rationale behind,this approach is that "what-ever happens to the individual happens to the whole group, and whatever happens to the whole group happens to the individual." Quite simply a novice or one in formation can only say "I am a religious" because we are a :religious family. Ira founding charism is most present in the lived reality of a religious community, then'it is within a community that formation must happen. "Community-centered formation" is not .the same as ''formation within a community." The former consists of a group of professed religious and prospective members open to the challenge of living and growing together; the latter is more often thannot a convenient arrangement for housing those in formation within a regular community, with perhaps one or two helping the formator in'his ministry. The difference between the two con-cepts is that with the first one the formation of new members is a community "event," whereas With the other, formation is a "territory" clearly demar-cated from the ordinary life of the community. The core group of the formative community is made up of religious who are prepared to share their own personal and collective story of faith; to witness in an open way, to the meaning of their congregation's charism; to support those in initial formation in a bro.therly manner and to pray 1106 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 with and for them. The neophytes in turn are invited to "come and see" the charism and mission of the group by sharing in the common life, prayer and work of the community. This "shared praxis" approach supposes less of the presence o1: the person responsible for formation as the sole authority, and more of his presence as guide~in a fraternal network of relations~ This role of the formator means that often the work of formation will remain open-ended, ¯ that is, it is not pushed through to a predetermined conclusion for the sake of a conclusion. Whilst the main emphasis, as with the existential approach, i~ experiential rather than instructional in any formal sense, the open-community situation makes it more likely that the whole aspect .of religious life is approached in a multidimensional way. Close living, with professed religious aff?rds opportunities for the experiencing of the living charism of a congregation that no "single-parent" type. of situation consisting of one formator and the formation group can possibly provide. Conversely, having new members live with professed religious can add life and vitality to the local community, and can challenge the older brethren to look anew at the values that underpin their lives. Such an approach to formation may be successful with mature candi-dates, but it can be a wholly different story with the younger or more immature types. When formation is expected to arise from the dynamic interaction of a community, things can go badly wrong if a good number of the group are incapable, either because of upbringing or inclination, of accepting their responsibility for and accountability to others~ Not to believe that there, will be a need for "tough love" at .times, and a good d~al of personal coachingof members in the art of living together as a religious family, is to assume too romantic a view of human nature. Finally, when everyone is theoretically responsible for the formation of new members, it can quickly become the practice that no one is responsible, and people are left to hope that the newer members "get the hang of religious life" in time--a sort of formation by osmosis! 12on¢lusion Whether religious formators choose to define formation as the handing on of the perennial truths of their congregations" story or.as a radical ,living of the Christian life, as an inner search for ,meaning or as an intensive group experience, they are providing only a partial description of the term "formation.'2 Conversely, if we conceive of formation as all those growth experiences, under the auspices of a religious congregation, that ~contribute to the deepening awareness of what it means to be a religious, the definition is so broad that it fails to indicate how a planned formation program Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis / 1~07 differs from an informal spontaneous arrangement where prospective. members learn directly from living in a religious community. If a definition of initial religious formation is to convey the full meaning of the term, it should be comprehensive while, at the same time, be sufficiently specific so that its key interacting elements are clearly conveyed. Taking these considerations into account, the following tentative defini-tion of religious formation is proposed: The planned and guided learning experience of religious life with intended learning outcomes, formulated through the systematic reconstruction of knowledge and experience, under the auspices of personnel suited to the task of aiding and evaluating a candidate's continuous growth in personal, social and spiritual competence. This definition regards religious life, and the ways of becoming a reli-gious, as dynamic. The formation process must account not only for the known dimensigns of a founding charism, but also for emergent under-standings. Consequently, religious formation is not concerned merely with transmitting the cumulative tradition of a religious congregation but also with the present dimension of a religious charism in relation to the life' experience of those seeking membership. Moreover, this definition recog-nizes that the future possibilities for the development of a charismatic religious community resides with those in formation today. NOTES ~l_zfe in the Oty of God. London: Burng & Oates, 1959, p. xi. 21bid, p. xii. 3John Dewey, How We Think, rev~ ed~, Lexington, MA: D.C. Heath & Company, 1933, 'p, 278. Even Discipline Has Its Season: Thomas Merton and Formation Today Thomas M. King; S.J. Father King has done extensive study and writing on Thomas Merlon. He is an Associate Professor of Theology at Georgetown University where he resides. The mailing address is: Jesuit Community; Georgetown University; Washington. DC 20057. Before he entered the Trappist Monastery of Gethsemani, Thomas Mer-ton wrote part of a novel that concerned a young man considering the priesthood. Like Merton himself, the young man played amateur jazz and had been leading a somewhat dissipated life. He saw his present life as remote "from the kind of discipline and perfection for a priest." As the young man thought about the priesthood, it was the word discipline that occurred again and again. Discipline appealed to him. At the same time as he worked on the novel, Merton wrote an unpublished essay that compared the lay and the priestly life. The priests were considered the lucky ones: "For them, from now on, everything is definite, is settled for them." In writing The Seven Storey Mountain he told of thi.nking about the monastery before he entered it: it was seen as a place of "much discomfort and no pleasures . I used to love books and study, but God will want me to die to all of that." He told of pursuing his novitiate with such enthusiasm that he made a nuisance out of himself by urging his novice director to reduce his portion of butter and cheese to be the same as the other monks', and he wanted permission to attend all the sessions of monastic prayer. By these permissions he wanted to lose himself in common life. He wrote a vivid statement of the Cistercian life that appealed to him: When a man becomes a Cistercian, he is stripped not only of his clothes, or 808 Thomas Merton and Formation Today / 1109 part of his skin, but of his whole body and most of his spirit as well. And it is not finished ~hat first day: far from it! The whole Cistercian life is an evisceration, a gutting and a scouring of the human soul. Merton had felt drawn to the monastery when he had visited there eight months before he had entered. Then he had seen a postulant take his ~place among the novices and he observed: "The waters had closed over his head and he was submer~ged in the community." The postulant was dressed like the other monks and was lost in the "anonymity" of the choir. Merton claimed that those who stayed in the monastery were those who simply followed the Common Rule, a Rule wherein each monk was "absolutely lost, ignored." This was the ideal he was seeking in the monastic life. Merton wanted to live a life of self-sacrifice. For years he had lived according to the urgings of his appetites only to find he was a confused victim of his own "self-contradictory hungers." The nature of these hungers were evident to him in many ways; for example, he was compulsively attending movies. Yet he would no sooner be in the theater than he .would despise the stupidity of the film; but soon he would again be at the movies. In deciding which religious group he would join, he told of wanting "a Rule that was almost entirely aimed at detaching me from the world." He was pleased to describe his entry into Gethsemani as "nothing less than a civil and moral death." He soon esteemed the other monks around him, for they had abandoned "all preoccupation with themselves and their own ideas and judgments and opinions and desires," they .had put their "whole life in the hands of another" through obedience: "The greatest of the vows is obedience." The .monk was said to be significant not because of what he does. but because of what he is: a monk: The religious habit itself was said to have the grace of a sacramental. Merton exalted in his community life and saw most people outside of monasteries as hopelessly confused. When he looked at the luggage he had brought with him, he reflected that he could no longer believe in himself as a layman. These .general themes are familiar to readers of The Seven Storey Mountain, though some of the passages remain unpublished (they can be seen at the Merton Study Center in Bellarmine College, Louisville, Ky.). The picture he gave of monastic life was demanding and severe, yet the surprising thing was the number of people who found what he described had a fascinating appeal. In the ten-year period after the publication of The Seven Storey Mountain, Gethsemani received approximately two thou-sand postulants! The number seems to say something about what people were looking for in joining "religious life." Many, of course, did not stay. With the passage,of time Merton's monastic euphoria underwent 1110 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 considerable change. He came to fight against the anonymity he had desired. He spoke'of monks "left with a husk of outward forms and no inner vocation." Though he had idealized entering the monastery as a form of death, he would come to ask, "Does our monastic life become so artificial and contrived that itis no longer really a life?" He had judged obedience to be the great monastic virtue; but later he would object that "doing what you are told., substitutes for life itself." He was no longer enthralled by the anonymity of the choir: "The choir is the scene of much depersonaliza-tion andanguish." He protested that monastic life should not be a "total abdication .of all human worth and identity." He even claimed that the whole concept of discipline in the life of prayer did not arise until the fifteenth century! He wrote an amusing caricature of monks who believe they are better than those in the world; the world was no longer seen as simply a place of error and sin. In his early writing he had affirmed that a monk's worth was in "being a monk." But he later said that he himself did not "comfortably wear the label of monk?' He wanted to be "a non-monk even, a non-layman, a non-categorized man, a plain simple man." "My hermit life is expressly a lay life." He told of a personal policy of"not appearing as a monk, a priest, a cleric," and said with some satisfaction, "I am a tramp." His biographer, Monica Furlong, explains, "It was as if he had abandoned all interest in the persona of the monk." The change in Merton reflected a change that was general in religious life. Religious discipline generally became less evident and many religious tried to.avoid a special identity in either manners or dress. Novices were often integrated directly into communities of formed religious, and obe-dience was no longer seen as a way of inner liberation--it was just a matter of convenience or greater efficiency of organization. Most religious would say the changes had been for the better. But recently while writing several articles on Merton, I came to believe that the more relaxed monastic life that is generally found today would in no way satisfy the Merton who entered "the monastery in 1941. At the time he entered he had different needs, needs which did not last indefinitely. Yet the general relaxation was a change that he had helped bring about. Like many others who entered the religious life in the fifties, I had been inspired by Merton's enthusiastic account of religious life. I had. been less dissipated, but I felt a similar need "to get hold of myself" and work through my "self-contradictory hungers." I entered a Jesuit novitiate where discipline was strict. Devotions, times~ to sleep, to eat and to recreate were regulated by a bell with little room for individual inclinations. Clothing, haircuts, readings and friendships were allowed little opportunity to develop accord- Thomas Merton and Formation Today ing to one's own taste~ Religious life was a way of freeing one from one's own tastes. One could wonder if that is still seen as a value--yet that was a major" reason that the noviceship took so long. In those days other Jesuits were not even to visit the novitiate "lest they disedify the novices." We believed that we were following "the more perfect way." 1 think that way of living would be frustrating for me now--but that does not mean it was not what I needed then. It was. There are seasons in one's life. Recently I was assigned to spend two years working with Jesuit novices. Meals remain scheduled, but the daily order was mostly gone. Dress is casual, betamax movies are regularly shown, beer is generally available and groups go out for:pizza. It is a more ordinary kind of life than I had known as a novice--and appears much like the life of those "in the world" or the life of longtime Jesuits. But should it be so? In working with the novices I decided much of the happiness of my own novitiate was not. present, My happiness .was perhaps naive--not unlike the happiness Merton had found among the Trappists.Like Merton I, too, had to resolve some contradictory hungers and deal with a confu-sion of undigested ideas. The exterior discipline provided support for my own efforts io control immediate appetites. I would not agree today with ma.ny of the ideals that made up the "more perfect way," but it gave me a clear look at myself and something to strive for. And in striving for a difficult goal I knew satisfaction--by being unconcerned with satisfaction. I knew better my appetite for God byignoring my other appetites. .I have visited other novitiates and talked with others in formation and I do not know if what had been valuable for me is still available. In recently doing some serious study with the texts of Merton, I came to understand something about, myself. Merton had become severe in judging the struc-tures of religious life that once he had found necessary and supportive. In the 60s I and other religious went through the samechange. But now I have come to argue there are seasons in one's life. There is a time when discipline is needed and a time when it should be relaxed. And this difference gives rise to a significant difficulty when novices early in formation are integrated into communities of formed religious. Perhaps the difference of seasons can be seen in the two sets of Rules for Discernment of Spirits offered by St. Ignatius. One set is for the First Week and the other is for the Second Week. Thus, they are put in terms of a temporal sequence, in terms of seasons. In the Rules for the First Week-- and Ignatius seems to believe that many people do not pass beyond this week--one judges one's interior movements (spirits) by a somewhat demanding objective standard. One is to shape one's life according to the commandments and the Gospel ideal and, therefore, it is according to these I~1~ / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 Rules that one accepts the interior movements that ~support the defined ideal and.rejects the movements that do not. At the .end of the First Week (inthe kingdom meditation) one makes a radical dedication of oneself to God. In this meditation one is expected to make a deliberate choice to willingly bear all poverty~ trials and humiliations for the Lord's sake. It is a frightening expectation; but it is only after one has made such a prayer, that one is to use the Rules for the Second Week. To contrast the difference between the two sets of Rules:~ in the first set one conforms oneself to an objective standard; one tries to overcome one's feelings (movements) by judging objectiVely which feelings are appropriate. Then, in the Rules for the Second Week, one listens to one's feelings (one's consolations and desolations) in 6rder to learn from them what one is to do. One learns from the feelings only after distancing oneselffrom them and only after instructing them. Thus, at different times during the Exercises, very different norms are appropriate for dealing with "feelings." Having given hundreds of directed retreats, I have sensed that Rules for the First Week are often given only brief consideration or ignored. Much of the reason is that there is considerable ambiguity about the ethical questions that once had been so clear. Yet if one has not been through a considerable discipline of moods and appetites and begins using the Rules of the Second Week, one begins taking disordered moods and trivial appetites as messages from heaven. Thereby one becomes hopelessly confused--most people "in the world" know better than to do this. Ignatius took his own moods seriously and proposed a method of listening to consolations and desola-tions- but he would use this method only after he had disciplined them. 1 have done a fair amount of spiritual direction, and with it 1 have come to believe that many directees--by no means all--need less "spiritual life" and more objective conformity to demands of the Gospel. Any professional identity (doctor, athlete, musician, and so forth) requires an extended season wherein one conforms to an objective discipline. Senior doctors can follow their "hunches," while young interns generally should not. Mozart has recently become known as a highly spontaneous composer. There is some truth in this understanding, but Mozart became that way only after following a disciplined training that was brutal in its drmands.,l do not recommend brutal training for either musicians or religious. (Though from Mozart to Merton it has .produced some good results.) But, on the other hand, it does not make sense to believe one can be agood religious simply by being one's spontaneous self from the novitiate onwards. If that were the case there would be no need for a novitiate, other than a brief period in which to school the novices in the constitutions, charism, history, and so forth. When religious are simply integrated into Thomas Merton and Formation Today / 813 regular community life, they would seem to "have it made" more readily than is possible in any other profession. And this should lead one to suspect that something is missing in whathad been known as a demanding profes-sion- one that had appealed to the desire of the young, not to have it made, but to sacrifice one's self for a cause. Because of a current and much needed emphasis on personalism and because of smaller numbers entering religious life, many religious groups now "tailor the program for individual needs." But the present article would claim that such tailoring is not simply the better thing. There is also an advantage in. having a more or less uniform program according to which the novice should be tailored to fit a new way of life. Merton felt he needed considerable tailoring. If his novice director had tailored the life according to Merton's unique personality, would his director have left him in the chaos of his hungers and even more ill-adjusted~than he was to Trappist life? I suspect Merton would have been a better monk if he had not received a special assignment to "literary" work shortly after he had entered the community. Merton wanted to be lost in anonymity, the.ano-nymity of common life. In this age of personalism is there still something that can be said .for anonymity? There are advantages in losing oneself in "common life," especially ~when it is part of formation. One identifies with a group only if one has actively striven to become part of it. Such is the only way that a sports team can develop an esprit de corps.The members do not develop a common spirit unless they have been together in a common and demanding training. Members of such a team have tailored themselves to fit together in spite of their differences--and that is the power in their bond. It is only by striving to live by something more important than personal preferences, that one can discover the power of a community bond, a bond that is not at all the same as the friendship bond. The latter is based on personal choice--it is a matter of taste; while the community bond develops when different types of people (who otherwise iriight not be drawn to one another) submit themselves to a common discipline and thereby realize they are together in something more important than their personal tastes and bigger than any of them. When Jesus was told that his family was seeking him, he respgnded that his family was composed of those who "heard the Word of God and did it." (They could be said to be following the Rules of the First Week by conforming themselves to the gi{,en Word, to an objective discipline.) They were not together simply as'a m~itter of preference or as a group of congenial people with a common interest. Can we even imagine--a tax collector and a zealot in one group! The disciples were bonded by a common discipline 1114/ Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 that united them in spite of their differences. One might also allow that within this group some friendship bonds were allowed to develop. In this age of personalism I confess that I still understand what Thomas Merton was seeking as a young monk, and I believe I was seeking some-thing similar. In short, I did not want to dedicate myself to the triviality of my own'preferences, l still know the advantage of losing oneself in an impersonal discipline and losing oneself in the anonymity of a group.And in arguing for tl~is anonymity I find support in the words of Jesus to the effect that we must first lose our self in order to find our self. This command would suggest that first there must be a season of losing, and only after that a season of finding. And the season that comes first should say something about religious formation. Sometimes conservative religious communities tell only o.f the importance of losing oneself--while liberal religious com-munities tell only of the importance of finding oneself. But the present article would argue that each has its season. Christ the Center of Our Vowed Life by Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three article's on the vows of religion are available as a single reprint: i - The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cruciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Expectations of Community Along Life's Journey Kristen Wenzel, O.S.U: Sister Kristen teaches Sociology and Women's Studies at the College of New Rochelle. She als9 does work for religious congregations as a research consultant. Her previous article in our pages was "Toward a So~iology'of Ministry in the United States~ (July/August, 1982). She resides in the Ursuline Community at 596 Minneford Avenue; City Island; New York 10464. here is no question but that our experience of community is a very important aspect of our lives. God has so,made us that we all need to feel we belong. This is also true sociologically speaking. It is true regardless of age, family upbringing, ethnic heritage, ministry or the group with whom we live. Looking back over our experiences of community is like going on a journey. When we go on a journey, what accompanies us--things or people? When we venture out, do we pref~er to go alone or with others? When we want to rest along the way, do we seek. out friends or a quiet grove alone? When we are unsure of our direction do we follow our hunches or do we ask for help? Let me ask you, where .have you experienced community along the myriad pathways of your life--at the fork in the road, at the intersection or along "the road less traveled'~ Let me explain. When I think of "the fork in the road," I think of the times when community forces me to choose between it and my ministry or between it and my preferred friendships or family. When I picture an intersection, 1 am thinking of all these important groups in my life converging and merg-ing in one place. Sometimes experiences of community seem to be taking me, a pilgrim, on a road less traveled, a road littered with obstacles. The 1t16 / Review for Religious,. November-December, 1985 road is uneven and progress is slow. Along the pathways we have walked, what have been our experiences of community? More directly, what person(s), group, or, perhaps, minis-try or activity is carrying me through life? What is community for me? Now, let us take a more analytical look at the word "community." Understanding the Word "Community" There are a variety of understandings of the term community. If you were to ask those with whom you live how they define community, one person might share with you an experience she has had of community, for example, a special liturgy with everyone in the house present; a jubilee celebration; extended time spent together over a meal; coming together with others from several configurations in similar work where talking and sharing are done in a concerned way and meaningful context. Another person might speak of the feelings that the word community evokes: for her, community is affi.rming, challenging, frustrat!ng, supportive, alienating, gratifying. Others might tell you what they wish community would be and what it has not been for them. Yet another might come back to you with the question, "What do you mean by the community? Everyone living under the same roof?. Our cluster community? The people with whom I do ministry? The diocese or province? My friends? My family? My parish?"~ This variety of responses indicates the many different ways we define community, describe our community experiences and/or set our goals regarding community life. How we define, describe or prescribe directions for community living is the foundation for building models of community. Generally, sociologists agree on three characteristics as essential to community. They are: locale, common ties and social interaction. When we speak of "the community" this concept encompasses locale or place as the basic component. Whereas, "community," as distinguished from "the community," emphasizes the common ties and social-interaction compo-nents of the definition? In this sense community is viewed ;not so much in terms'of locale or where we live, but in terms of there being "a high degree of personal intimacy, emotional depth, moral commitment, social cohesion, and continuity in time.''3 When we religious are asked about our experience of community, what most frequently comes to mind--the geographical locale, the level of social interaction present,~ or the common bond of a shared ministry, vision, commitment? The common bond or common ties component of community refers to an organizing factor which is neither a locale.nor an emotional tie but a common intellectual or professional bond4 or, in terms of our status as Expectations of Community / 1117 religious, a common religious understanding or spiritual bond. It is this common-bond element that is referred to in the "Community Life" section of the constitutions of many religious congregations, for example: -The love that unites us finds its source in the intimate union of Father,' Son and Spirit who dwell within us. -Christ calls us to form, as did the first Christians, a community having "one mind and one heart" (Ac 4:32) and experiencing the joy of his presence. -In Christ we are one body nourished by the Eucharist and strengthened by the Word of God. What about the social inter'action component of community? Here sociologists distinguish between the rural village and urban industrial society to present the dramatic changes that have occurred in the level of social interaction between people. What the sociologists have to say, I believe, gives us insight into how community life has evolved here in the United States. In a village society most people held common values, norms and traditions. The survival and welfare of the whole village was a concern shared by all. Social bonds developed among.people from the many activi-ties and functions. Geographic mobility was limited and personal contacts were long-term. A distinctive characteristic of the village community was that each .member had a position in the social order, a position usual)y assigned at birth. Expressions of individuality such as distinctive clothing, work aspira-tions, leisure activities and friendship circles were strongly circumscri.bed by the rights and obligations of other village members. Consrquently, the self-identity of the individual often fused with the individual's identification with the village. . On the other hand, in urban industrial society life is much more diverse and fragmented. We do not have regular, continuous face-tr-face interaction with just 'any one group over a number of years. Many of the people with whom wedo come in contact we deal with in impeCsonal, functional ways. Those we live with may come from social classes and ethnic backgrounds very different 'from ours. Personal histories are heterogeneous. Conse-quently, we don't necessarily share with our companions common tradi-tions,' values, aspirations or ,goals. Unlike people in rural villages who~ spend their entire lives in the same community, we are highly mobile, not only gebgraphically but socially as well. More often than not, we enjoy a 10osely-linked network of friends across several groups rather than a close-knit network within one community. In religious life increasingly, specialized ministries also are a product of this urban industrial and technological society. I~111 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 Locale--common bond--social interaction. How important is locale in my experience'of community? Am I living in the particular community where I am because it is convenient for my work . . . because of my background experience or trifining for a particular ministry., because I can be close to aging parents or a sick relative., or because for me it is a real faith community to which I choose to belong?. Is a common bond, such as staffing a hospital, a love of one's foundress, serving the poor, or simplicity of life, with relatively little emphasis on locale and social interac-tion sufficient for community to exist in my estimation? Or is social interac-tion the essential element and, if so, what level of such interaction must be operative to make community for me? The relative importance we give to locale, common bond and/or social interaction indicates the model of community with which we most closely identify. Moreover, these are some of the basic elements that today's candidate for religious life will be looking at before choosingtomorrow's community. How each of us experiences community today ~s good and growth-produc-ing also influences the criteria we use in choosing the type of religious with whom we wo~ld like to live. This choice may only be able to exist in our mind. Nevertheless, the choice is real and affects the reality of community living. There is current tangible evidence that among us religious we differ in the sociological factors we emphasize in measuring the quality of commu-nity life. There is current tangible evidence that among us religious we differ in the sociological factors we emphasize in measuring the quality of commu-nity life. Current Trends Shaping Our Expectations of Community To define ~ommunity is one of the tasks to be done in developing models of community. Another very important task is to become aware of and sensitive to the current trends shaping expectations of community. Recent trends in theology and ecclesiology have had a significant impact on the spirituhlity as well as the experience of community life for apostolic religious in the United States. Among all the developments that have occurred in. the understanding of spirituality over the past twenty years, there are two that are fundamental. The first .concerns the way we view the world. Here we have moved from an assumption that reality is essentially static and unchanging to an awareness of a world that is dynamic and changing. As human persons within this world, not only are we subject to the process of continual change but'we are ourselves the very agents of that ~hange.5 It is in the acknowledgment, of being such agents that we are Expectations of Community / a19 evolving a new style of religious life. A second development, equally influential, focuses on how we view God. We have moved from an understanding of God as trangcendent and historical to the discovery of God as immanent in-our experience. We believe that human existence in its natural condition is radically oriented towards God.6 In the context of this understanding we have come to trust our experience of existence in the here-and-nowas the locus of the revela-tion of God. Consequently, e~eryday historical life and religious life are not separated. Experience takes on new meaning and becomes an integral part of our spirituality. These two broad developments in our worm view and God view make up the integrated secular and sacred climate in which community is being experienced, lived, and named among us today. The view of religious life as a mystery and a gift given to the Church in a particular moment of history has led to a search for new forms of com-munity; which will support the challenge of ministry in a new age and in a specific culture. An evolutionary perspective, which sees the life of faith as a journey and conversion as an ongoing process, has encouraged a more open and fluid approach to community.7 According to this trend community life is viewed primarily as a basic support for the mission of the religious congregation and for the ministry of the individual religious: Apostolic community life is a living out of the baptismal call to witness to the message of Jesus through ministry and service to the world. Consequently, community life is not lived apart from the world but rather within and for the world to which we belong, Our decision to live together out of shared Gospel values, and to give witness to these in society, is the foundation of community. It is such values underly-ing this decision which influence prayer, mutual support, presence, rela-tionships, lifestyle, finances, and all other aspects of community living. While community life is a living critique of the prevailing values of society,s it is also somewhat influenced and shaped.by societal trends. What are some of these secular trends challenging and giving rise to various models of community life?. John Naisbitt, in his popular book, Megatrends, deals with ten specific trends. I would like to single out three of these trends as those which I think we need to study and reflect upon in our .analysis of models of community life. Trend I. There is a persistent mbvement in society toward participatory democracy because there is a deepening conviction that people whose lives are affected by a decision must be part of the process of arriving at that decision. There is pressure On the Church, corporations, universities, local 1~20 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 parishes, agencies and hospitals to become more open and accountable. There is the new shareholder activism, worker participation, demand for greater employee rights and the consumer movement.9 There is no question that this trend toward participatory democracy is affecting religious and their current expectations of community. It is. an important element to be considered in building a model of community life. This growing movement toward participatory democracy is viewed by a significant number of reli- ¯ gious as an essential element if commumty for them is to be a credible and viable way of life. Trend 2. This decade is a decade of diversity, with multiple options in lifestyle, education, religion, housing, transportation, leisure activities, music and the ~.rts. The term "family".is being expanded to include a number of important relationships between people not related by blood or marriage. The country no longer holds on to the myth of the melting pot as ethnic and racial groups in growing numbers celebrate their diversity. Mul-tiple options have en';erged for women in the workplace, in personal life-styles, in choice of education, in elective sur~gery. Likewise, ~options for church membership are multiplying.~0 These trends are shaping current expectations for tomorrow's community. "Multiple Options" is becoming an evermore critical element to be considered in developing a model of community life. Cor~sider, for example~ multiple options for belonging to groups. This reality can enhance the quality of community life for contem-porary religious if we are willing not only to acknowledge this trend but to have leadership acknowledge it. Trend3. A world of interdependent communities.is being forced upon us by circumstances. Unless we recognize this we will not survive~ To achieve needed technologies we as a nation will have to work cooperatively with other nations. We will need to forge a 0ew relationship with the Third World as equal partners in an interdependent world.~ Perhaps the most significant areas of interdependence are those relating to the nuclear power issues and the growing global economy. Interdependence as expre,ssed in intercongregational-supported minis-tries, formation programs, and intercommunity living is a growing reality for contemporary religious. Interdependence for tomorrow's community means these developments will be more the reality than the exception. They will not only be accepted but embraced as integral to building a model of community life. These ~current trends do not comprise an exhaustive list. However, they are trends--religious as well as secular--that are having an impact on what we expect of community life. For example, if we bblieve that human experience is a locus for the revelation of God then, for us, God is expe- Expectations of Community rienced in interpersonal relationships, in ministry to and with others, in struggles for justice, in communal and liturgical prayer as well as in the give~and-take of daily community life. It is important that we get in touch with those patterns and trends in the Church as well as in society that are influencing our preferences for holding on to or restructuring our experi-ences of community. What are the trends you believe shape your own expectations of com-munity? It is here, I believe, that we find a clue to the reason why we may identify with one particular model of community' rather than another. Also, it is h~ere we gain insight into why, when we speak of tomorrow's community, we are speaking of multiple models that will grow in credibility and acceptancewithin a single congregation. Expectations as Expressions of Models of Community What do we mean by model? Our own experiences attest to the fact that community is a complex reality. We cannot take all dimensions of community and integrate them into a single vision of community. That would not be doing justice to its various elements. Rather, we keep them separate, highlighting different dimensions at different times. The use of models exemplifies a typological approach tothe study of community. The number of types or models is unlimited. However, I have chosen to limit the number of models lowill present to four. Each of theseomodels could .be broken down into several subtypes, but 1 will not attempt to do that. By approaching the study of community from the perspective of model, ultimately, I. am suggesting that this method offers us a multidimensional and not an uriidimensional understanding. The method of models or types can be invaluable in helping us to get begond the parochialism of our own outlook and t6 enter into fruitful dialogue with other members having a fundamentally different perspective. This particular approach should en-able us to encourage the kind of pluralism that heals and unifies ~ather than that which frustrates and divides. The use Of different models in our discussions of community evokes different viewpoints on issues and differ-ent suggestions for living out community. Sociologically, the. presentation of types or models: suggests what already is, not necessarily what Should be. Where'we live community life is determined more by circumstances, preferences and opportunities than by our trying to conform to some idealized concept in an idealized reality. Sociologically, idealized conditions do not exist--for better or for worse. The Institutional Model Here the concept of "locale" is impo~ant. The place one is assigned or II~fft / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 sent to, the geographical locale, is believed to constitute community. It is the community for the individual in the sense that this is where one's attentiveness and availability are directed. The principal needs of the indi-viduals are satisfied by their participation in communal prayer, shared meals and recreation together. Informal contacts outside the community are infrequent and do not contribute in a major way to the individual's life. Here, to live the common life is to live community. This is the goal, the basic conviction, shared by members who live this model of, community. The structured life is formally organized with a horarium and recognized levels of authority.Ordinarily, there is a single apostolate raiher than a diversity of ministries. Decisions are made based on the common good which, with stability, is highly valued. The members' needs and expecta-tions are met, for the most part, by the community. In the context of this model, individuals experience a strong sense of belonging to the gro~ with whom they have invested so much of their energies. To a large extent they are known .by the group and usually feel comfortable in group activities. They experience support from their communal living. This sense of pur-pose and direction is strengthened because it is shared by the group. Because so much time is given to the group, less time is available to follow personal interests or become involved in Outside activities. Exposure to lifestyles markedly different from the members' own is limited: Understand-ably, these types of boundaries as well as the relative homogeneity of the community tend to reduce overt conflictual situations. Preference for this model, would be shown by such felt needs as: -Praying together: office, Eucharist, shared prayer, retreat, communal prayer service; -Arranging gatherings on provincial and local levels: summer renewal, conferenc~es, chapters, workshops, jubilees, professions, funerals, big feast days; -Sacrificing personal interests for the common goo.d;, -Playing together: shared hours of relaxation, recreation, fun times, togetherness in enjoyment of TV programs of special interest, vaca-tion, cultural outings; -Feeling a sense of belonging and ~of being "at home" with one another; -Holding community meetings frequently, where members arrange schedules in order to be there. The Individual Identity Model In this model the emphasis in community is on social interaction rather than locale. An emphasis on the community member as person replaces Expectations of Community emphasis on community as place. Value for the human in self and others, respect for the dignity of the human person and the responsible freedom of every member are the basic convictions in this model. Consequently, it is the nurturing and growth of the individual that is of primary concern. Prayer in common is seen as a support and as a challenge, helping the individual to grow by helping to develop her or his insights and gifts. Diversity in rriinistry becomes inevitable with the emphasis placed on the d~velopment of each individual's talents. Community members are learning to recognize the dignity of the human person who has both rights and responsibilities in relationship to self, to others and to the world. The value of community flows from who we are rather th~n from what we do. There is a struggle with how to blend individual rights and responsibilities with those of .the group and how to hold both in healthy creative tension. There is a deep concernwith how to empower one another to be active participants in the creation of a Church, a nation and a world that reverence'the human~dignity of all. In a special way members of this~ type of community, if it is a commu-nity of women religious, recognize that the Women's Movement in the United States has deeply influenced many who share the determination to "use our power collaboratively and collegially in non-violent ways" to bring about the creation of a world that'respects all that is human. These members are coming tb a new understandifig of what it means to be woman: "The glory of God is woman fully alive," They are experiencing a new sense of solidarity with other women. They wish to bring about an awareness of women's unique gifts to be used in the creation of a more human, loving and just world.~2 This movement has heightened among religious the need for personal and communal discernment as 'they come to (erms with change as a continuous reality in their lives. It has also led them to create participative and collegial structures within community. There is dialogue and interaction on the journey so that they might discern and respond to the Spirit leading .them into the future. Prefereiace for this model Would be exemplifieod by such statements and elements as: -Challenged and called to grow beyond myself; giving most generously of myself; -Accepting responsibility for community; owhing community decisions; having a sense of building together; enabling the community to articu-late expectations of the group and individuals; -'Desiring growth in ideniity and cha'racter as individuals and as community;, -Appreciating each member for her or his contribution; considering ~124 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 members as individual persons not to be overloaded with work; -Recognizing the talents and gifts unique to each person and -Affirming ministry. The Ministry Model Here community life is viewed primarily as a-basic support for the mission of the religious congregation and the ministry of the individual religious. Community exists to facilitate the individual member's availability to minister to the needs of society-at-large. The active apostolate is of primary importance in this model. This is the common bond for living together in community. Locale and social interaction are of secondary importance. It is ministering to the needs of the People of God rather than to the members of one's own congregation that is the major expectation. Religious vows in response to vocation are a consecration for mission and are viewed not as ends in themselves but rather as supports for minis-try. Personal prayer demands a contemplative stance toward all of life and leads to contemplation in the midst of action. God is experienced in minis-try to and with others.13 Consequently, prayer in common is scheduled around the demands of the apostolate. It will occur less frequently, and at times without all members present. Times for private prayer would be more common. The major consideration in decision-making would be, "How will this decision provide greater availability and effectiveness in the apostolate"?. There may or may not be a diversity of apostolate works represented among the community members. Within the context of this model, for .example, new ministries are emerging for the, semi-retired that take them outside of the community: to share at centers for senior citizens, to tutor adults or chil-dren, to do parish.visiting or home nursing. Changes occurring in the society-at-large are affecting many of the types of changes experienced in the local community. In addition, membership in other groups and com-munities is acceptable as a means to apostolic service. It is quite common for some members to find these outside groups to be their primary com-munity. All-in-all the dimensions of community life are shaped by the values, goals and expectations of those whose primary focus is the apostolate. For some religious, the value of witnessing to community in the larger society becomes the apostolate. The community exists for the sake of its witness value. The expectation here is that the group will. live community in such a way that those outside community will see among them God's action in the world. Inviting butsiders to join the community for commu-nal prayer is an important dimension. In fact, hospitality in general would be considered essential to this type of apostolic community life. ¯ Expectations of Community as~ Preference for this model would be exemplified by such manifestations -There is interest in and suppori of one's ministry; united in service of others; involved in a common apostolate, being on an Ursuline faculty, giving help to the needy and the poor; -Small group living offers unique ways to use personal gifts, in the service of, others; -Hospitality is shown to guests, whether members of one's congrega-tion, one's family or friends and -Sharing work. The Communion Model~4 In the context of this model, the members of the community share the conviction that the concept of communion unveils an ever-deeper under-standing of community. Because we are all united in Jesus Christ and form one'Body of which he is the head, we are united to each other as members of one body. The diversity of gifts, talents, personalities serves the richness and well-being of the Body of Christ which is the Church. This is the common bond that unites members in community. They share the expecta-tion, the conviction, that religious life is a microcosm of the Church, a witness to the kingdom of Jesus Christ, and therefore, it must be a com-munion. Our life together must reflect the kind of fellowship with Christ and his members that is described in the New Testament. The source of our sisterhood or brotherhood is not human compatibility but rather a com-munion rooted in faith, in baptism and in life in Jesos Christ. Communal prayer, faith sharing and Eucharist would be the essence of community in uniting each religious to Jesus Christ, Likewise, there is a strong emphasis on attentiveness to the Spirit as a source of unity. Our oneness in Christ and his Spirit becomes the underlying rationale for the types' of decisions made regarding authority, leadership, provincial gatherings, living the vows, apostolates, and efforts to continue the updating and renewal of religious life. Likewisr, this communion directs us to attend to the needs of society and to issues of social justice. Communion is unity amidst diversity and is the essence of community life. Preference for this model would be exemplified by such evidences as: -Experiencing joy in living with people dedicated to the Lord; inspired by the fidelity and prayerfulness of one's sisters; -Sharing at depth level; articulating shared values; faith, vision; -Sharing times of crisis and -Assembling for the' good of the Church. To summarize--in these four models which I have just presented, we 1196 / Review for Religious, Nove.mber-December, 1985 do not find an exhaustive study but rather a continuing exploration of various, possibilities. From a sociological perspective, we see that different models place different emphases on Iocale,~ social interaction or common bond as the foundation for developing the model. These three elements are present in varying degrees whenever we describe community or living group. No actual community identifies totally with any single model. However, every community will probably find that it has an affinity with one model more than with another. Furthermore, it is important to acknowledge that each model raises a number of issues regarding commu-nity life that need to be addressed by members. Sociological Factors Influencing Our Expectations of Community What shapes .our expectations of community? Why do we find our-selves more attracted to one model rather than to another? Why do we recognize the description of one type better than another? Why do we haxie the preferences that we do for a particular model rather than for another? Or, on the other hand, are our expectations unclear or conflictual? Do we find more than one model appealing or, simply, none at all? Will tomorrow's communities really be that much more .different from today's? The variations that exist among us regarding expectations of commu-nity can be explained, in large part, by our respective personal ~ back-grounds such as the size of the family we grew up in; whether our ethnic heritage is Latin, Irish, Germanic or whatever; the type and number of years of education we had and whether we spent our childhood and early adult years in a rural or urban environment. Our age also affects our needs regarding community, and those needs change as we move from our 20s into our 30s, our 50s, our 70s. Likewise, our social-class background will have some bearing on how we view community. And there are other sociological factors which are influential. The task before us is for each of us to identify and name those that we believe have the strongest impact on our own respective expe.ctations and preferences. At times there is a tendency to call for unity in community while downplaying diversity of sociological background; for example, to challenge one another to a simplicity of life that will unite us, regardless of back-ground, social levels, experience or education. We are not united regardless of these factors. We can only be united in a real way when we have regard for them. This does not mean.we are defined in a static way by our personal history. But, we do need to remember that personal history is God-given, and the starting point for any of our journeys. Appreciating differences and allowing ourselves to be influenced by them can add a great deal of enrichment to community life. At the least, an awareness and Expectations of Community sensitivity to one another's background can explain why there exist among us so many and varied experiences and approaches to community. Briefly, I would like to mention another set of factors affecting prefer- 6nces. I will not ela ~borate on them but I would like t6 refer to them because they are critical elements to be dealt with in working out the practical details of community models. They are what we call structural elements; for example~ (1)the building lived in, (2) size of group, (3) geographical location, (4) age distribution, (5) daily schedule, (6) length of time of stable group membership, (7) procedure for incorporating new members, (8) mix of personality types and (9) number of ministries represented. There is a great deal more I could say about sociological factors and how they influence our expectations with regard to communal living. However, I believe I have given at least an indication of how to explore and apply them in gaining insight into how our preferences shape our attraction to one model over another. Conclusion In conclusion, I would like to say that the journey mentality embodied in this paper is different from the "trip mentality" so often present in our society today. When we go on a trip our focus is on arriving. Our attention is toward the future with relatively little preoccupation on the present. We are driving sixty'five miles-an-hour to get there and what we are passing on the road is unnoticed. On the other hand, the journey, mentality is attentive and respectful of the process. It is attentive to the here and now. It is a creating.and c~reative e~xperience~ It is the p!ace to be because this is the place God is. The fact that we do not have it all together, the fact that we are searching, the fact that we are moving slowly, sometimes reluctantly, sometimes with conviction, are all positive signs and reflective of the way God's people have acted throUghout history. This is reflective of every social movement whether religious, political, economic or communal. This is reflective of what we are about in all of our deliberations about commu-nity- along our life's journey. NOTES ~Similar questions are addressed by Barbara Glendon, O.S.U., in her article, "Models of Community," REVIEW FOR RELI~,IOtJS, Vol. 38, No. 2 (January/February, 1979), 206-216. 2Jessie Bernard, The Sociology ofCommuhity (Glenview, Illinois: Scott Foresman and Company, 1973), pp. I-2. 828/ Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 3Robert A. Nisbet, The Sociological Tradition (New York: Basic Books, Inc., Publish-ers, 1967), p. 47. aBernard, pp. 4-5. SMaureen O'Keefe, L.S.A.', "Reflections on Spirituality and Religious Life," unpub-lished paper written for an all-day program on "Reflection on Apostolic Religious Life in the Archdiocese of New York" held on April 29, 1984 at Mount St. Vincent, Bronx, N.Y. ~Ibid. 7Corita Clark, R.D.C., "Communal Dimensions," unpublished paper on the interpretations of data gathered from women religious of the Archdiocese of New York who attended a program entitled, "The Experience of Religious Life in the United States" on February 4; 1984, p. 8. 81bid. 9John Naisbitt, Megatrends (New York: Warner Books, Inc. 1982), pp. 159-188. ~°Ibid, pp. 231-247. ~qbid, pp. 55-77. ~2Here 1 would recommend Carol Gilligan's book, In a Different Voice (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, .1982) where she presents the thesis that women's experience of relationship and care must be included in theories of human development which traditionally have stressed men's experience of individuation and autonomy. ~3Clark, p. 8. ~4Ernest R. Folardeau, S.S.S., "Religious Life is a Communion," REVIEW FOR REI,I-G~ OtJS (January-February, 1984), pp. 65-68. The basic ideas for this section are taken from this article. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and II by Patricia Spillane, M.S. C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Llndell Blvd. St. Louis, Mlssoud 63108 Eucharistic Community of Disciples William E Hogan, C.S.C. Father Hogan's last article, "A Sense of Consecration," appeared in the issue of November/December, 1983. He continues to reside at the generalate of the Christian Brothers: Fratelli Cristiani; Via della M~glianella, 375; 00166 Roma, Italy. Since Vatican II it has beeri commonplace to say that the Eucharist is the highpoint of the day, the summit, the center. This is the manner of expres-sion one encounters in constitutions, conferences, formation instructions, and so forth. Yet many of us on the individual and community level could very well ask ourselves if in fact the Eucharist is the central point of our-day, if we do approach it. with the spirit and outlook that enables it to be our real focal point. In actuality we may well,discover that our vision of Eucharist is narrow, and that we "do"~Eucharist because it is expected of us. It is not too distant in the past that big gatherings were marked with Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, for that was an accustomed way of noting special occasions. Now whena group of religious come 'together for a meeting or solemnity, the expectation is that the occasion will call for a community Mass. This is all well and good, but we may be missing its impact on the community and our individual persons unless our eucharistic horizons are broad; for it should not simply be an occasion for celebrating with song and ceremony. Indeed, it is also a moment for healing, for proclamation, and for recommissioning in service. Our times have seen a wonderful explosion of renewed insights into Eucharist as a result of theological and scriptural reflectionJ There has been a return to many of the aspects of eucharistic awareness prevalent in the early Christian community, but progressively neglected with the.pas-sage of time, especially when the vision of so many was primarily restricted 829 I1~1~ / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 to Eucharistic Adoration. These insights should not be left in the intellectual domain; if carried over .and integrate.d into our daily vision, they can greatly enrich one's appreciation of Eucharist and help toward a realization of the Eucharist as the center of the day and of the community. As a means of helping people to make the Eucharist central, spiritual writers often enough used to speak of spending half of the day in thanksgiving for the Eucharist that had been celebrated and the other half in preparation for the next Eucharist. Surely many individuals found this approach helpful, but even more could be gained from incorporating into our lives the fruit of the present eucharistic renewal. At the outset, though, let us not be tempted to reject the wealth of spirituality that has come to us over the centuries from this emphasis on Eucharistic Adoration. For time spent in the Eucharistic Presence can serve as a powerful source of growth and strength in one's relationship to the Lord and to others, especially in terms of fostering an awareness of the many other presences of God 'in one's daily living. Through a lived awareness of the community, service and prophetic dimensions of Eucharist, individuals and communities may discover that Eucharist can be an integrating factor of daily life, and lead them to become a "eucharistic community of disciples,;' as the Lord Jesus intended. When we gather as a community to hear God's word and offer ourselves in union with Christ to .the Father, we assemble as a people of brokenness in need of healing and forgiveness for .our failures to carry out the Lord's command of love for, and service to, our sisters and brothers.° We bear all the weaknesses with which our personal and community qives~are laden~ and ~with the multiple failures ofour unfulfilled resolves to be more open to the Lord individually and together. We come in need of individual and community healing. The initial rite of the Eucharist introduces us to its forgiving and healing aspect as we sincere.ly acknowledge our need. It opens us up to rediscover the presence of Christ in our midst--not just the presence of Christ in his word, in the consecrated bread and wine, in the minister, ~,but in~ the very group of people with whom we have come together to worship. Jesus is there in the midst of the human weakness, the~ tensions, the variety of personality types, the physical sizes and shapes. He is there because we are gathered in his name. And he calls us forth from ourselves to discern his presence at the time in the community of worship. ,~ It is not enough that we discern his other presence~ in the eucharistic celebration. Our eucharist does not deserve the name in the full sense if we are unaware of his presence in the assembly, since Eucharist involves the interrelationship of a series or network of modes of Christ's presences. It is, as it were, a way in which Christ concretizes the connection between love Eucharistic Community of Disciples for God and love for people. It is an extension of the Emmaus incident in which the two travelers could recbgnize Christ in the breaking of the bread because they had shown hospitality toa fellow journeyman, inviting him to stay with them. Thecommunity aspect of Eucharist is not just a matter o.f song, gestures and prayer together, important as these ~re; for they can fast descend to the level of the empty ritual against which Jesus spoke. Rather this facet of Eucharist centers on a faith conviction that Jesus is in ~the midst of his people, a Risen Brother among sisters and brothers, leading them in wor-ship of the Father by the power of the. Spirit. And the perception of this manner of Jesus' presence is related to the breadth of our view of the Jesus whom we receive in communion: We receive the Risen Lord Jesus who is inseparable from the people whom he redeemed; so that our communion with him mysteriously engages us in communion with others, Long ago St. Augustine wrote: "We receive what we are; we are what we receive, the Body of Christ." And also, "We say Amen to what we are, the B~dy of Christ." In receiving Christ we somehow receive others into ourselves; we are put in touch with them on a profound level. " The context of the Seder meal in which Jesus instituted the Eucharist was, and still is, an experience of celebration and communion, for" those participating, in the various presences of Yahweh. The gestures and' rites expressed solidarity; the history proclaimed was a family history of ~the people, extending into the very time of celeb~:ation, wherein Yahweh was present in their midst, Jesus took the richness of that meal and transformed it; he took the whole community dimension 'that was essential to it and gave it an even deeper m~aning with his promise to be with those gathered in his name. But he challenges his disciples to awareness of this presence of his; for it does not happen automatically in one's life and a community can easily miss the Jesus in whose name they are gathered. It is not enough to focus on the word, the altar, the minister. Jesus' washing the feet of his disciples reveals another facet of Eucharist: the service dimension in which the liturgy of the altar flows forth into the liturgy of life: Jesus' act of washing the feet of the apostles was an integral part of Eucharist and not an isolated event,~ It summed up the self-empty-ing that had been going on all through ,his life and which would ~find its ultimate expression in the total giving of self on Calvary. When he told his disciples "Do this in memory of me," Jesus would have referred to more than the institution of his Body and Blood. His charge to the apostles would have encompassed what led up to the actual words of institution and the whole spirit of gelf-emptying that underlied them. His command to "wash one another's feet" is closely related to "Do this in memory of me"; 1~.2 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 for without the spirit of mutual se.rvice expressed in washing one another's feet, we will 'not in fact be celebrating in memory of him even though perform the ritual of Eucharist. Eucharist necessitates that those who par-ticipate in it break the bread of their own lives with others and pour forth their blood for others in service. Christ made it clear that it was by love for others that people would recognize his disciples, and love finds its expression in servibe of others. We have only to reflect on the parable of the last judgment in the twenty-fifth chapter of the Gospel according to Matthew to see the connection Jesus made between service of others in a communion of love with them and being his disciple. Or consider the words of Jesus when his disciples wanted him to disperse the crowds when it was getting late: "Give them something to eat yourselves" (Mt 14:16; Lk 9:13). The eucharistic tone.of the gospel narrations of the incident, is reminiscent of the eucharistic call to serve others, as Jesus himself goes on to serve the crowd--and the people in the crowd also go on to share their goods and serve one another. Every time a community gathers to celebrate Eucharist, it receives a renewed challenge to go forth and serve others and share with others, to wash the feet of those whom we meet--and to let our feet be washed by others, inasmuch as a spirit of service and communion with those whom we serve requir,es an ability to receive as well as to give. All the moments and actions of ministry during each day, and the daily demands and opportunities for creating community are rooted in the liturgy celebrated at the altar, and constitute a large part of the liturgy of daily life in which we are freed from self for others and for the Father. "Do thisAn memory of me" should not be words heard only after the consecration; they should echo in our hearts all day long in all we do and tr), to live. And when our human frailty holds us back from all the self-emptying demanded of a .disciple, we bring our weakness and human failings to the next Eucharist to find therein the healing and strengthening we need to face the future .challenges of service to which that Eucharist sends us forth. Eucharist involyes not simply celebration but proclamation. "When we eat this bread and drink this cup, we proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes" (I Co 11:26). How often those words are said or sung as an acclamation without their meaning being grasped! "The death of the Lord" speaks the love of Christ, the love that is at the heart of mission. Eucharist celebrates that love and calls the disciple to continue that love in his/her own life and proclaim it by action. The Eucharist charges individuals and commun!ties not to live for self, but to reach out to others in love and compassion, prolonging the mission of Christ right into the present. It ¯ demands that we be Christ in our day in our love for the Father and our Eucharistic Community of Disciples / 1133 sisters and brothers, laying aside untlue concern for self for the sake of others. Eucharist is not really celebrated if the proclamation of love in action is absent from the lives of those who assemble at the Eotd's table. St. Pa.ul .made this very clear in his reprimands of the Corinthian community who violated the fundamental meaning of the symbol of the Christian agape. We, too, fall into contradiction if we live in indifference to others after drinldng;~he cup of the Lord's Blood and thereby asserting'a r~Com-mitmbht to follow Jesus in the selflessness of discipleship.2 Christ queries us ifi eac~ Eucharist, as he asked James and John, whether we can drink the cup of freedom from self for others in love. When we view Eucharist as proclamation, there are implications for how we regard others, and whether our vision corr.esponds to that of Jesus. The Jesus of the Gospels shows reverence for the unique dignity of each individual; He treats others as sisters and brothers and shows special con-cern for those mistreated or rejected by society. He reaches out to others and does not live closed in on himself. The Eucharist we celebrate declares that this is the manner of acting for t.he Christian community. The procla-mation of "the death of the Lord until he comes" speaks loudly against injustice and lack of peace, but we can be deaf to the message when we are unaware of Eucharist as a challenging proclamation. It.is not enough to view Eucharist as a celebration of what we.have come to be as Christians and of the gifts we have received. While there is place for focusing on the pasL there must also,be a look to the future and to .the present with the calls to share, to serve and to proclaim that Christ's love is very much alive today. To be eucharistic means more than, to be a people of thanksgiving living in a spirit of gratitude, for Eucharist embraces calls for living discipleship and continuing to enter more deeply into it. To be a eucharistic person or community is to live a life .integrated around Eucharist in its different dimensions of community, prgclamation and ,service as well as the tradi-tional aspects of adoration, .praise, thanksgiving and reparation. The more we ponder over the facets of Eucharist, the more our day will be centered around it and be affected by it. We will perceive our day as being one in which we are missioned at the Eucharist to go forth and live and do what we proclaim at the altar; and we will come back to the Lord's table conscious of the ways we have not fully lived Eucharist because self has gotten in the way. And we will come together as community to be healed, freed and strengthened to go forih again in eucharistic mission. ~ / Review for Religious, Novembei'-December, 1985 NOTES lOne of the most valual~le sources for renewed eucharistic spirituality is the magazine Emma~uel published by the Blessed Sacrament Fathers, 194 East 76th St., N.Y., N.Y. 10021. In recent years a number of articles have appeared that afford very rich insights. Among others that could be cited: James Feeley, "TheologieS of'Eucharist" in April and May issues, 1981; James Feeley, "Eucharist as Compelling Service'r in June, 1981; Paul Bernier~ "Changing Eucharistic Perspectives" in,July/Aug., !1981; Paul Bernier, "A Century of Congresses" in Sept., 1981; :Eugene LaVerdiere, "Proclaiming the Death of the Lord" in Oct., 198 i; Joseph Hart, "The Splendor of the Eucharist" in April, 1982; Eugene LaVerdiere and John Gartner~ "Eucharist as Proclamation" in April, 1982; John Gartner and Eugene LaVerdiere, "Eucharist as Liberatiofi" in May, 1982; and 'Eugene. L~iVerdiere and John Gartner, "Eucharist and CommuniOn" in June and Sept., 1982. ' ~See Eugene LaVerdiere, "Can You Drink the Cup?" in Emmanuel, vol. 89, no: 10, Nov. 1983, pp. 490-495. The Good News ' Good news is oven-fresh and warm like bread in morning nostrils It's felt in channels of the blood ~like anticipated supper, down highway,~ rides. It's news read under lighled lamps ~ warm with the glow of chaliced wine Down all the streets and byways of our twisted years. Good news is sharing of the Word, fresh and warm communion Not yesterday's news from vacant lots or jammed in sealed-up windows, ' , Good news lets in a radiant light washed clean in morning deE, Good news is news that will not stand still. See it rise in serene suspense as each sun rises toward each day Not in cyclic repetitions but spiraling bell-tongued from towers Calling all things to itself in its tremendous inward and upward thrust Good news is news that will not stand still. Marcella M. Holloway, C.S.J. 6321 Clemens Ave. St. Louis, MO 63130 Inculturation, Community, and Conversion Gerald A. Arbuckle, S:M. Father Arbucl~le is well known t0our readers fo.r the insightful articles from his pen which have graced our pages in recent years. He has agfeed to Offer ihe fourth anrual Spring Lecture, jointly sponsored by REVIEW FQR RELIGIOUS and St. Louis University's Department of.Theological Studies, next March. Father Arbuckle may be addressed at his congregation'~ generalate: Padri Maristi; Via Alessandro Poerio 63; 00152 Roma, Italy. In language that is remarkably radical, Paul VI ten years ago identified the scope of evangelization with the transformation of cultures. ~What matters," he wrote, "is to evangelize hlJman culture and ~:ultures, not merely in a purely decorative way, as it were by applying a thin veneer, but in a vital way, in depth, and right to their very roots." l For the pope e~,a,ngeliza-tion must come alive to the people in and throughthe symbols that have meaning for them? But he is no cultural romantic, no cultural i'elativist. In the light of the Gospel some, culturally a~cept~ble symbols or customs may have to b6 rejected, others encouraged to develop. In other words, thee pope is speaking of what we now call inculturation, that is, "the dynamic relation between the Christian message and culture or cultures; an insertion of the Christian life into a culture; an ongoing process of reciprocal and critical interaction and assimilation between them."3 Religious are ,evangdizers. But to evangelize, they must first be evange-lized themselves.4 Put in another way, if they are to be agents of inculiura-tion for others,, they must first undergo inculturation themselves~ They must first submit, and keep on submitting, their own lives, their own religious life culture, to the critical evaluation of the Gospel. They must see 835 Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 to what extent their community life, their lifestyles, are negatively or posi-tively influenced by the culture to which they belong, An objective evaluation of one's culture is far from simple. It is so easy to be deceived. Some time ago I heard a European missionary working in a South-East Asian country make the following comment: I have just visited a very large formation house for religious clerical students. The quality of community life is just so perfect, so Christian. There is gentleness, humility among the candidates. No one steps out of line. No one is ever alone. There is so much harmony here. Just so different from the individualism of the western world. Contrast this with a comment of another religious priest, this time within a Western country: The community where our few students are being trained is so mature. Each student is challenged to stand on his own feet. None of this together-ness emphasis. They rarely come together; this shows their maturity, their lack 6fneed, for emotional props.° I feel this is real community. How are these comments to be evaluated? Both commentators assert that the communiiies they refer to are deeply Christian. But in fact are they so perfect? Both commentators stress opposite values: th~ value of being tightly integrated in the group and the value of standing alone. According to Gospel orientations, can both emphases be correct? How far are the reactions of the participants in ihe houses influenced by.their cultures so that the consciofis effort at building realChristian co~mianity is minimized? These are complex, but urge~nt, ~uestions. Religious may be helped to answer them with the aid of anthrbpoi~gical insights. After a'lL in~:ulturation is the evangelization' of culture and cultural anthrop~ology specializes in the systematic .study of culture. In ~ttiis article, therefore, I will seek to: -define wh~it is meant by community; ~-define culture, and describ~ Variou~ cultural ~xpr~ssions of community; -r~flect ori incuituratioh, conversion a~d~community in religious life; ' -suggest some practical formation implications of the analysis. '~ Reflections on the Nature of Community Despite the ease with which the word community is used, it is not so easy to define what it means. After reviewing ninety four definitions of community, one author concluded that "beyond thd conceptthat people are involved in commu.nity, there is no complete agreement as to the nature of community.~5 Despite this difficulty, for thepurpose of this article we might accept the distinction made by Raymond Plant: Commu.nity, he says, should be considered eithdr as a fact or as a value? Community as a' Inculturation, Community, and Conversion /837 ~fact is something sociologically definable. As a fact, community is "essen-tially a sentiment which people have about themselves; a sentiment expressed in action and behavior but still basically a feeling."7 According to David Clark, two essential feelings for the existenc~ of community are a sense, of significance and a sense of solidarity. Individuals feel they have an accepted position in the group. This gives them a feeling of significance. They feel bonds with one another; thi~ gives them a sense of solidarity. How significance and how solidarity are to be expressed in fact are most often determined by the cultui'e, or belief systems, of the people who.make up the.community. Some cultures heavily stress significance, others solidar-ity; others seek to balance the two feelings. When we speak of community as value we move away from the socio-logical area into the .ethical, .(he philosrphical or theological areas. How one defines what a community shouM be will depend on one's values.8 If one believes that the .bonds between, members of a community should be ~arkedly strong, then individuals may be forced to weaken their own feeling of personal significance. If the latter is. given top priority, then solidarity itself may weaken: For the Christian, community as a value takes its foundation from the Trinity: "May they all be one. Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you" (Jn 17:21). We struggle, with the grace of God, to give visible expression 'to the presence of the Trinity-- a sharing in love and in openness, but without the loss of personal unique-ness~ There is emphasis on other-centeredness; that is, concern for the welfare of the other, .but without loss at the same time of one's responsibility for oneself. There is allowance .for "both autonomy and mutuality.-9 There is to be the unity of heart and mind. Unity--which is not necessarily tl~e .same as uniformity--is to be achieved in and through healthy interaction, dialogue and charity,t0 It is a unity born out of freedom in Christ. Cultural Expressions of Community .,"Community" emphasizes the peoplb who feel .personal significance and/or solidarity; "culture" emphasizes the way people express this feeling in practice, The values and biases of our family, neighborhood, and com-munity to which we belong have in so many ways been shaping our feelings; emotions, and way~ of responding. Our ways of relating to other people; to those in authority, are "never simply spontaneous, but are care-fully--- if often unconsciously--learned from life around us." ~ Anthropol-ogists remain divided on how to define culture in a comprehensive way. Some would stress the importance of what people do rather than believe. More commor~ly today, however, culture is used to refer to the organized system of knowledge, of belief, whereby a people structure their experience I~1t / Review f.or Religious; November-December, 1985 and perceptions, formulate acts, and choose, between alternatives. This sense of culture refers to the realm of ideas that influences (not determines) behavior, As Ward Goodenough says, ideas "provide standards for deciding what is., what can be., how one feels about it . what to do about it . how to go about doing it."~2 Understood in this sense, culture has a deep, often unconscious, influence on behavior.: Culture gives us meanings about, the things_that we see to be important; culture gives us a sense of direction. Culture tells, us what the people we live and work with consider good or bad. Culture tells us what sanctions, if any, we will suffer if we do not accept what others do or want in.the community to which we belong. Anthropologist Mary Douglas, a leading contemporary commentator on ritual and society, in an effort to articulate how individuals can be pressured by culture to respond in certain ways, uses two basic variables: group and grid.~3 The group is the experience of belonging to a social unit, the 'feeling that "I belong to this group of people and not that group 'of people." Put in another way, group means "the outside boundary that people~have erected between themselves and the outside world."~a The grid is the set of rules, the (tangible or intangible) structures or systems that relate one person to others on an ego-centered basis. Or it connotes, asshe herself writes, "all the~other social distinctions and delegations of authority that [are used] to limit how people,behave to one another."tS~ From these two variables she creates four models of culture. I will .restrict the analysis here only to two rather important, polar-opposite models: "strong group and strong grid culture" and "weak group and weak grid culture.'~ Community will be expressed in two different ways in these cultures. ~ ,ln the ~explanation that follows, I will give more emphasis to the first model for two reasons. Firstly, information on this model is not so easily available to the general reader, unlike the material relating to the second model. Secondly, whereas the number of candidates fog the religious life is severely decreased in Western ~hurches (except in Poland and Ireland), Africa, Asia~and Oceania are seeing a true explosion of religious vocations. There is also a similar pattern relating to the recruitment of priest candi-dates.~ 6 The cultures,of these, countries tend to approximate more to the first model than the second. Diocesan authorities, religious superiors and formators, then; may very specially need to appreciate the formation and inculturation implications of this model. On the other hand, considerable literature is available on the second model, a model that has application in many parts of the Western. world. Before proceeding with the analysis, however, two clarifications are necessary. I will be describing two sociological models or frames of refer- lnculturation, Community, and Conversion / 1139 ence. A model is not a perfect abstraction from reality. Rather a model is very much a construct used to facilitaie a better understanding of very complex situations. A model reflects, reality to the extent that it highlights certain emphases or trends. A particular cultui'e can then be researched to discover just how far it conforms or diverges from the model. Secondly, though the first model is particularly common throughout Africa;~Asia, Oceaniaand South America, this does not mean it is not also operative within Western countries, It is just less dominant in these coun-tries, Similarly when I refer to the second model, weak group.and weak grid, as particularly characterizing Western countries, it does not mean it does not have application at times also in parts of the Third World lands. Strong Group and Strong Grid Culture . Inthis model the strong grid involves moral and normative prohibitions that limit or highly structure interaction. The stress on group identity gives security to,individuals, but at the same time confines them to close relations only with people within the boundaries of the group. The feeling of solidar-ity, not personal significance, characterizes this culture and thus is the dominant expression of community living: Within the community, behavior is highly traditional; what was done in the past becomes the measure of what should bedone now and in the future, Frequently, the position of each individual within tt]e community is clearly-- and even rigidly--defined, even before birth, by the rules of kinship, Kin-ship (the extended family system) is the articulating principle of all social and economic organization. For example, all members of one's tribe or clan may be named "grandfather," "grandmother," "father" or "mother," "brother" or "sister," "son" or "daughter" depending on the ages of those concerned, e.g. all males belonging to my father's generation are called ~ather." The titles denote what behavior is expected of the people with whom one comes into contact. The effective principle ,that binds people together in such c~ultures and communities is reciprocity. Often kinship rules dictate precisely who receives what, how much and from whom. Within cultures of this type there is a vigorous ideology that gives priority, to group cohesiveness, togetherness, interdependence and group harmony. Often this ideology is summarized in one word or in a brief expression. For example, among Maoris in New Zealand there is the term aroha. The root meaning of aroha is "love of kin," and it implies not only affectionate feelings but also the issue of these feelings in action. Since kinship is now not so'important to Maoris, aroha is applied to friends also, but still in the event of conflict the sense of obligation to kin is likely to prove the stronger.~7 ~ / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 In Papua New Guinea, where there are five :hundred languages and at least one thousand dialects for 3',000,000 .people, the commonly heard expression is wantok ("one-talk" or.same language).~8 In Japan the word wa is Used; the word connotes the priority that must be given to unity, cohesiveness, team spirit, the:cultivation of good feelings among members of the same firm or family,t9 In the Philippines ~faithfulness to the group, called, bayanihan, is emphasized.2° A particularly key expression in Philippines~culture is paki-kisama; this underlies virtually the entire structure of social relationships~ Priority is given to smooth interpersonal relationships at all times and pakikisama is a primary way of achieving such smoothness. It' means "giving in," "following the lead or suggestion of another"; in a word, "concession," even when one knows that the coffcession is objectively wrong.2~ Pakikisama, as a value, favors avoidance of direct confrontaiion that could lead to open and violent aggressive behaviors, The desire for' frictionless relationships can result in extensive use of euphemism in con-versation, and the speech is loaded with metaphors that convey a message with minimum risk of offense3 There are few concepts, as deeply rooted in the Western mind as the concept of self. Westerners generally are apt to see (hemselves as distinct beings, "separate from all others in most important respects, with separable beliefs, talents, and experiences. 23 In contrast to this approach, Japanese see themselves or define themselves as part of a larger group. One's separate "identity" is not separated "out as the primary sign of personal development; maturity for them usually means merging with the collective whole. The Western interpretation of~ maturity lies precisely in the autonomy of .the individual. Japanese, in brief, derive their identities in part from those nearest to them. There is a partial merging of identities so that the identity of the group is apt to be the dominant force: As in Japanese culture, so in these other cultures which resemble the strong group and strong grid model. Collectivism, or the feeling of solidarity, with stress upon harmony and consensus, generates pressure .for conformity to group norms, pressure to ~'be like everyone else." Conspicuous idiosyncracy and dissension are avoided or suppressed, and acquiescence is upheld as main mechanismsfor maintaining consensus. There are many subtle but effective ways to ensure conformity to the group and to behavior expectations of the group (grid). There is the fear of being gossiped about, of being made the object of ridicule. if norms are broken. ~ ¯ The Japanese sociologist, Chie Nakane, in explaining the stress on the group as the foundation for community, says that people adhere to the group "not by religion or philosophy but by a very human morality. The Inculturation, Community, and Conversion / 041 yardstick of this morality is always determined by contemporary trends. The feeling that '.I must do this because A and B also do it' or 'They will laugh at me unless I do such-and-such' rules the life of the individual with greater force ~han any other consideration, and thus has a deep effect on decision,making."24 The fear of being shamed if one does something differ-ent ~from the group holds the individual in check. The adoption of Western ambitions for personal freedom is almost incomprehensible to persons with traditional Japanese assumptions about group loyalty. As in Japan, so also in other cultures which approximate to our model of strong group and strong grid. One famous Fijian leader commented on the vital quality of liberality as an expression of solidarity within the group: "Liberality is the law of tradition, and to give evidence of thrift or arouse suspicions of miserliness is to sin against the law."25 Of Tahitians, B. Finney writes: "Stinginess is not admired., and anyone judged stingy is often pejoratively referred to as Popa's (European)."26 The concept of hiya in the Philippines has been described as shame, but the English word does not adequately convey the .term's meaning. It is a form of self-deprecation, involving embarrassment, inferiority, and shyness all arising from having behaved improperly in relating to the group. The fear of being shamed is one of the more powerful sanctions operating to maintain the overall system of social and group relationships?7 The fear of being cast out of the group, ostracism, either by being physically removed or verbally ignored or snubbed, is a most powerful sanction against individual non-conformity to group and grid demands. In Genesis Cain is not to be executed for murdering Abel. His punishment is to be yet worse: ". 'You shall be a fugitive and a wanderer over the earth.' Then Cain said to Yahweh, 'My punishment is greater than I can bear'" (4:1 2-13). In ~'strong group and strong grid" cultures people may attempt to break away from the group demands, but few can take the ostracism for very long.28 Finally, there is the ever-present fear in many communities that if the norms of group and grid are not followed, there will be supernatural sanctions imposed: the spirits, ancestors, witches, sorcerers, or even God himself will impose punishment on wrongdoers. Punishment may be immediate or long delayed, e.g~ a person, becomes sick and then remembers :a group norm was broken sometime in the past. Sometimes the wrong-doing can be comPensated for, e.g. by girl giving, or sometimes people feel that nothing can be done, and death or suffering must be accepted in a spirit of fatalism.29 Weak Group and Weak Grid In this model both group and grid or social networks have little grip on 1t42 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 individuals. The emphasis is on individualism, on individual decision-mak-ing and initiative. As Ferdinand Tonnies put it: '~'Here everyone is by himself and isolated, and there exists a condition of tension against all others. Their spheres of activity and power are sharply separated, so that everybody' refuses to everyone else contacts with and admittance to his sphere, i~e. intrusions are regarded as hostile acts."30 Interpersonal relation-ships are basically competitive. People compete with each other to gain personal advantage, status. There is no deep mutual sentiment that can generate trust and reciprocal concern. Inter:relationShips are governed by formal contracts; people are ever ready'legally,to sue one another for suspected violation of personal rights in all kinds of spheres. Douglas describes the model in this way: "Instead of accepting their allotted station in a given scheme of things, as where grid is strong, each family is involved, for its very survival, in the effort for advantageous alliance--marital, de-fensive, or financial.''3~ We still refer to this type of interrelationship as community, not just because personal significance is stressed but because in some very vague, but real, way people feel some sentiment' of solidarity, even if it is paradoxi-cally conflictual. They may fe~l some sense of common, belonging, ever so faint, because they live in the same house br work in the same building or firm. But it is a sense of belonging that is so weak that it cannot be depended on for much support, if any, when one is in difficulty. In this model personal significance is vigorously emphasized. Hence, the stress on individualism and the struggle to establish a sense of personal acceptance in community through competitive work and through material symbols of achievement. But the struggle .for .status in such a competitive world is a never-ending battle, with success at best very fleeting. In this culture model, the cult of self-fulfillment is strong~ how can I best improve myself through my own efforts, my own self-discipline, my own efforts at manipulation of others for my advantage?32 Recently social-economist Amitai Etzione severely criticized the United States for uncriti-cally adopting this model of culture and community: "[We] have experienced a hollowing of America in which community was whittled down. Greater reliance on government has been accompanied by promotion of a particular brand of individualism best labeled egotism, sometimes referred to as 'me-ism' or hedonism, and . . . built into antisocial interpretations of the psychology of self-actualization."3~ Some claim that people like Locke, Hobbes and Adam Smith contrib-uted to the emergence of the weak group and grid culture in America, because these authors stressed the primacy of the individual and the wisdom of a society built on self-sufficiency.34 But America is not alone in stressing lnculturation, Community, and Conversion / 1143 the significance of the individual to the detriment of solidarity. Within the Australian ,popular folklore, for example, there is also the cult of the rugged individualist. As one writer said "the Australian way of life" was "something much deeper than words can depict," that it embodied some "inner principle'~' which, although difficult to define, was related to "the freedom, the security, the justice and the individualism of life in this sun-burned, muscular continent."35 Evaluation of the Two Culture/Community Models E. Aronson.points out that the human person can respond to social/ cultural influence in three possible ways: by compliance, identification or internalizationP6 Compliance connotes the reaction of a person who behaves in a certain way to gain ~reward 9r to avoid punishment. If the group pressure to act is sufficiently strong, .then the person who~complies will go along with the group to acquire praise or avoid difficulties, Decisions as to what to do or not do: are taken, without his involvement or responsibility. When identification takes place a person acts in a certain way in imita-tion of the person who is influencing him. The action is done not to ga!n a reward or avoid punishment, but simply to be like the influencer. The internalization .of a value or belief is by far the. most permanent, most deeply rooted, response to outside influence. The reason to internalize a particular belief is the desire ,to be right. The reward for the~ belief, is intrinsic. A personal conversion is required to achieve internalization in" order to withstand the pressures for compliance and in order to avoid the fickleness of identification. ln~.the two culture/community models described above, are there., influences that foster or hinder the internalization of Gospel community values? Are there~factors within these models that are conducive to Gospel ."a.utonomy and mutuality"~. I will take each model in turn and attempt to respond to these questions. Evaluation of the Strong Group and Strong Grid Culture A researcher who studied seventy years of parliamentary ~debates in New Zealand reflected on the consequences of what was then an example of strong group and strong grid culture emphases: "Here in a small and culturally homogeneous milieu is the spectacle of a majority rule producing some of the consequences. : the dulling effect of the mass mind, the dominance of conventional opinion, the despotism of custom, the intoler-ance of unorthodoxy, the sacrifice of talent to the worship of averages, a world made safe for mediocrity."37 In the strong group ~and grid culture, 844 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 uniformity in behavior becomes almost synonymous with patriotism. The pressure to conform to the group, and to the established, detailed, rules of life, can be so strong .that the individual's capacity to make independent judgments and to take autonomous action in light of Gospel values is severely restricted. The culture provides, therefore, little or no opportuni-ties for significant independent and responsible personal action. The sense of individual identity is anchored in group belongingness and is thus sustained by going along with peers. This goes with the desirability of being accepted by peers, the anxiety connected with being left out, and a competitive urge for always being in. One economist, reflecting on the causes of povery within the Pacific Islands, pointed to the traditional dominance of the group over the individual as one major obstacle to the removal, of poverty: Generous giving has been elevated to a very high place in traditional standards . Taking advantage of a general acceptance of this customary attitude, proceedsfrom the sale of crops, wages orany accumulated prop-erty are subject to demands from all sides.; the proportionate scale and nature of these demands being such that it is difficult for any individual tO retain funds or .useful property and the earner or producer after successive distributions is usually discouraged from making further effort.38 Given pressures of this kind, it is very difficult for the individual to come into contact with his or her real self, with the reality of loneliness. One becomes imprisoned by group pressures, isolated from one's inner self. "The stress on togetherness," write Eric and Mary Josephson, "is a particu-larly pernicious pulsation that may acquire a pathological character. While togetherness may lessen the feeling of being lonely, it is really only an exchange of isolation for an unrealistic'imprisonment of brotherhood'?'39 Not only does the pressure to conform to the group result in hiding One's own loneliness, but the pressure to appear happy and one with others can cover over real tensions, aggressive feelings and'~ anger which remain unresolved. Westerners, who may come from cultures that overstress ruthless and competitive individualism, when they come into contact with strong group and grid cultures--in which harmony and.external conformity are stressed-- are tempted !o fall victim.to the pernicious disease of cultural romanticism. They fail to see that individuals can be culturally oppressed. This is the case in the comments by the first observer to whom I referred in the introduction of this article. The observer assumed that the cheerfulness he saw was inspired by .Gospel values. I, for my part, cannot be so sweeping in my praise. The observer noted that "no one is ever alone." The particular culture on which the observer was commenting was of the strong group Inculturation, Community, and Conversion/.1145 and grid type, in which a person regularly spending lengthy periods of time . alone in reflection and study was considered definitely odd, even a traitor tothe group's idea of Gospel community.~ In this culture individuals lacked the space, freedom, challenge and support, to be themselves, to be auto-nomous. The same community covered over very real interpersonal ten-sions. If such tensions were ever to come out into the open, to be resolved in a Christian manner, it was thought, such revelations would destroy "the God-given, culture-supported harmony." In brief, in answer to the above questions about internalization, the strong group and grid culture is not necessarily conducive to the internali-zation of Gospel community based on thevalues of autonomy and mutual-ity. Rather, individuals are subjected to strong cultural forces or biases that are conducive to compliance or external acceptance of the group's ~values. Evangelization is apt to remain a thin veneer, something "purely decora-tive.'' 4° If.individuals are suddenl~ removed from such a culture, not infre-quently the fa~ilure to internalize the objective values of Christian autonomy -and mutuality shows up only too dramatically and painfully. For example, migrants who, within their countries of origin, have been living a form of cultural Catholicism are not likely to continue to practice their faith in the land of their adoption--unless there is a conversion and an internalization of Catholic values.4~ To the unsuspecting observer, therefore, the pleasantness that so often pervades the strong group and grid cultures may come across as thoroughly Christian and growth-oriented. But the reality, at times can be very different. "Sin,,' for example, can be conceived prima.rily as "individual failure in group obligations." "Sin" in this sense can. be "removed" not necessarily through a reconversion requiring deep interior change, but through a ritual of"face-saving" actions, e.g. the handing over of a certain amount of goods to the one or to the group offended:42 Evangelization of cultures, then, requires sensitivity both to their positive and negative features. "The Gos-pel," writes Paul VI, "[is] certainly not identical with culture."43 "Evaluation of the Weak Group and Weak Grid Culture There are some rather trenchant critiques of cultures that approximate to the weak group and grid culture model. In Australia, claims Ronald Conway, the vigo'rous cultural s.upport for individualism and the competi-tive pursuit of material happiness has left many an Australian "blank-souled," "a starved captive in a dungeon created by generations of either not caring or dreading to show care.''44 He speaks of "fragile foundations of impoverished interpersonal communication."45 In America, social critic John Kavanaugh believes that "Christianity at 1~6 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 rock bottom radically conflicts with American culture, even subverts its';46 He believes that individualism, the ruthless, competitive pursuit of material happiness and achievement all conflict with Gospel values. Historian David Potter's insights would support this view. He argues that the search for personal freedom, coupled with the rejection of any society-ascribed statuses, has gone so far within the American ethos that people have become involved in a never-ending search through work for improved, personally achieved statuses. The loneliness, isolation, insecurity and ten-sions, he states, that result within individuals who are caught up in this '~status rat race" are enormous and overpowering for many individuals.47 Christopher Lasch claims that in. America "the culture of competitive indi-vidualism., in its decadence has carried the logic of individualism to the extreme of a war of all against all, the pursuit of happiness to the end of a narcissistic .preoccupation with the self."48 Joseph Tetlow claims that American culture so stresses the value of good health and .the value of .being young that "This conviction stamps our religious experience in a very notable way and gives concrete shape to our spirituality. For Americans do not easily believe that Grd loves someone and has forgiven that person's sins as long as that person suffers in any way."~9 We need comment no further. So forceful can the weak group and grid culture be in exalting the powers and worth of the individual that terms'like "human interdependence," "mutuality," "social justice" and "compassion for the marginal" sound almost sinful! Compassion; social justice, Charity, mutuality--are atthe very heart of the Christian message. If culture vigor-ously supports the contrary values--as does the weak group and grid culture then individuals are under strong pressure at least to comply with such forces. Not to comply is to be considered odd, a dropout, one who does not believe in the importance of status-seeking. ' Given these comments, readers will now be rather suspicious of the second comment, regarding a religious community of students; which was given in the introduction to this article. The words "[th6 students] rarely come together: this shows their maturity" rather reflect the wider cultural stress on "rugged individualism" in the sense pictured above. Members of that religious formation house may well find the following description highly congenial to their cultural tastes: "Commt:nity is seen as a necessary encumbrance, for the paying of bills, for security, or just for convenience . Use of the car and enough money for each member to become independent becomes the major issues."5° Recently Eugene Kennedy, summarizing social criticism of America (and by implication, similar cultures), noted the "elevation of the individual and his or her own world to a dizzying centrality in life. A new Inculturation, Community, and Conversion / 1147 authoritarianism resides in the unattached person, a tyranny is exercisedby a person who counts on nobody, affiliates loyally with no one,.and finds the beginning and end of gratification in the self .This leads to a muted ethical sense."~ These weak group and grid characteristics have no place within religious communities. But Philip Slater, another perceptive critic, while agreeing with Kennedy and others about the excessive individualism, believes also that there is a desire--however weak--for community, for the opportunity to share with others in a spirit of trust and cooperation.52 Evangelization needs to relate to this aspiration. Inculturation and Conversion We return to a deeper understanding of inculturation. It is the dynamic and critical interaction between the Gospel message and each culture. This is a radically different process from that of acculturation. The latter is a process of culture change in which ~ore or less continuous contact between two ormore culturally distinct groups results in one group taking over elements of the culture of the other group or groups. For example, when, in the course of the last century, Christianity came to Samoa in the South, Pacific, it took deep roots in the local society. But at least at one key level Christidnity became acculturated to the existing system of traditional government. The traditional, chiefly rank system became sanctioned and supported by Jehovah himself, according to local interpretations of biblical history. When chiefs punished, Jehovah punished. The status quo became utterly frozen, supported now with supernatural sanctions. Little wonder if Christian ministers themselves became equivalently chiefs, wielding consid-erable power and°authority--all in the name of Jehovah. Christianity lost its freedom at a crucial level; it became trapped in the traditional authority system .53 John Futrell points out a more contemporaryexample of acculturation. When reflecting on what happened to religious life following Vatican If, he wrote on how religious acculturated values and customs of the consumer culture into their own lifestyle: "Along with th& affirmation of the world came a rapid a~similation of the lifestyle of the social subject being served . Religious began more and more" to live the way of upper-middle-class families and unconsciously fell prey to a creeping consumerism.TM How then can such acculturation be avoided? How in fact does incultu-ration take place, so that religious communities can reflect Gospel values? Who does the inculturation? John Paul II offers the answers to these questions, lnculturation, he says, must be the fruit of maturity~'in faith; it requires ',a great deal of 8411 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 theologicai lucidity, spiritual discernment, wisdom and prudence, and also time . [and] there is always a conversion to be effected., to the person of Christ,"5.SElsewhere, he insists that inculturation "presupposes a long and courageous process., in order that the Gospel may penetrate the soul of living cultures.''56 Then there will be "the liberation, the purification, the transfiguration" desired by Jesus Christ.57' There is no shortcut to inculturation, no room for gimmicks, It requires, following John Paul II: -a lucid vision of religious life; -a critical reflection on cultures in light of this vision; -personal and community ongoing conversion. 1. Vision of Religious Life Religious accept, as the basic orientation of their lives, that all Christians "of whatever rank or status are called to. the fullness of the Christian life. and the perfection of charity."58 Religious without res

Issue 22.3 of the Review for Religious, 1963. ; JOHN XXIII Allocution to Spieitual Directors Our meeting todayI immediately precedes the week of retreat by which We intend to prepare Ourselves for the opening of the Ecumenical Council. You can imagine, then, what is going on in Our soul at this moment as We welcome you who have been chosen for one of the loftiest and most delicate services that exist in the Church. As perhaps you already know, We Ourselves exercised this same ministry at the Seminary of Bergamo shortly after World War I. This precious priestly experience permits Us to understand better the feelings of your own hearts, and at the same time it makes Our conversa-tion with you more intimate and more immediate. Before every thing else, beloved sons, We extend to you Our gratitude for the hidden but invaluable work which you are carrying on in an area that is rich in hopes for the apostolate. Dioceses depend on you; it can even be said that the future fate of the Church is to a large extent in your hands. It is true, of course, that the forma-tion of seminarians must be achieved by the harmonious collaboration of all superiors under the judicious and in-terested direction of the rector; nevertheless, the most important part of this formation pertains to you because your work is executed in the depths of conscience where deep convictions take root and where is effected the real transformation of the young men who are called, to the priesthood. It is the impulse of the Spirit of the Lord that initiates this transformation and brings it to completion; ordinarily, however, a young man will have difficulty in knowing how to follow the impulses of the Spirit without the expert control of the spiritual director. 1 This is an English translation of the allocution Questo incontro given by John XXIII on September 9, 1963, to a meeting of spiritual directors of the seminaries of Italy. The original text is given in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 54 (1962), pp. 673-8. $il~irltual Directors VOLUME 22, 196~ John XXII1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 258 We can imagine your daily sacrifices, your trepidations, and your silent sufferings. And God knows with how many prayers and efforts and perhaps anguish you daily pay for the graces of light and perseverance which you implore for your spiritual children. In manifesting to you Our gratitude, We feel that We possess the senti-ments of Christ Himself who, by entrusting to you His most precious treasures, has called you to labor with Him in this sublime work of His grace. /1 Dil~cult and Delicate Task We also wish to express to you Our satisfaction with your meeting and the good results to be expected from it. The education of the young--it is never out of place to repeat this--is a very arduous mission which is justly referred to as the art of arts. This is even more true when it is a question of young persons who in the greatness of their hearts are.giving themselves to the priesthood. The educator of seminarians is well aware that his personal preparation for this lofty ministry should continue throughout the length of his service. He must study the psychology of the students in the seminary; he must live with his eyes open to the world which surrounds him; he must learn from life. But he must also learn from books, from study, from the experiences of his colleagues, and from the progress of pedagogical science, especially from the texts and authors recommended by the Congregation of Seminaries. We cannot disguise the fact that in the matter of edu-cation there have been and are errors that are cloaked by the facile excuse that for the discernment and formation of vocations it is sufficient to have good sense, a sharp eye, and above all experience. We say this with a feeling of sadness. A more enlightened spiritual direction would have spared the Church the priests who do not live up to the greatness of their office, while at the same time it would have procured for her a decidedly higher number of holy ecclesiastics. Moreover, all of you are aware that every age en-counters and meets characteristic difficulties in the edu-cation of youth. In your own case you cannot forget that seminarians today belong to a generation that has ex- + perienced the tragedy of two tremendous world wars and that they live in a world which is evolving with amazing ÷ rapidity. Because of this you may at times be bewil.dered by various manifestations of a personality still unformed, by aspirations and exigencies which seem to be far from the mentality that was present only twenty years ago. This might lead one to conclude that the traditional formation has had its day and that new ways should be tried. On this point We would like to give candid ex-pression to Our thought. While in the matter o[ seminary [ormation it is not good to maintain outmoded ways o[ doing things, still it is necessary to be thoroughly convinced that fundamental principles retain all their~value; without thei~'o~he entire edifice would collapse and [all into ruin. Hence it is nec-essary to care[ully avoid the danger that marginal re-forms, however important and perhaps opportune they may be, should distract attention from what is the central problem o[ all seminary education. Your efforts must be principally directed towards creating in your charges an evangelically integral conception of the priesthood as well as a keen and vibrant consciousness o[ the obligation to tend towards holiness. Unchanged Value o] Fundamental Principles Beloved sons, the problem of personal sanctification was the point of honor and of joy o[ your and Our youth-ful years. Those called to the priesthood in this second half of the twentieth century can have nothing else more at heart both before the priesthood and during the years of its flowering and maturation. They must be persuaded of the emptiness of every apostolic effort that does not proceed from a soul in the state of grace and tending to-wards holiness. You must also take care to guide seminarians to a knowledge and a comprehension of the world in which they are called to live and to work; teach them to sancti[y everything good, sane, and beautiful that progress offers. This does not mean any compromise with a worldly spirit and much less does it imply a lessening o[ the importance of mortification and renunciation. A misunderstood mod-ernization that is preoccupied only with softening semi-nary life or with flattering nature too much would create a personality the direct opposite of Christ, Priest and Vic-tim. On the contrary, a really adequate adaptation to the needs of the times must result in a deeper assimilation to the personality of Christ and Him crucified. It is neces-sary to endow seminarians with a love of the self-denial of the cross in order that they may be able to love the con-dition o[ poverty in which the clergy must o[ten live and be able to meet with courage the renunciations and ex-hausting labors of the apostolate. Firm Discipline and JoyIul Dedication to Sacrifice At times one hears the expressions "autoformation" and "autodomination." It is certainly true that a person is not well formed if he does not know how to control himself; educators are justly concerned to give seminari-ans a practical and progressive exercise of freedom which 4. 4. Spiritual Directors VOLUME 22, 1963 259 4. 4. 4. John XXlll REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 260 will strengthen them to control themselves in determined circumstances and which prepares them better for the life of the ministry. But this cannot be disjoined from firm discipline. A young man will never learn to be mas-ter of himself if he has not learned to observe with love a strict rule that exercises him in mortification and in will power. Otherwise, later in the full exercise of the ministry he will not be prompt in a full and joyful obedience to his bishop; he might even undergo the temptation to as-sume an independence which, while it may not take the form of open rebellion, may nevertheless be manifested in personal action not in harmony with the plan of pas-toral activity suggested and proposed by his superiors. Finally, there can never be too much insistence on the importance of example. And it is you, beloved sons, who give this; it is older priests who give it; and We wish that We could say that all give it. Example is the most elo-quent and persuasive language for the young. Example will draw down an abundance of fruitful graces from the Lord; and from it seminarians will learn in an almost spontaneous way things that frequently are difficult to explain in words. Zeal /or Carrying Out the Decisions o/ the Council Because of the spiritual director's frequent and confi-dential contacts with seminarians, he is one of those per-sons who are incised into the memory; he can, therefore, if he is truly edifying, be one of the most effective sup-ports of future perseverance. Many times the amazing exuberance of Christian life in a diocese finds its true explanation in the silent work of a holy spiritual director who by his example and his teaching has been able to form a generation of holy priests. As We come to the end of Our reflections on this seri-ous and lofty matter of the formation of seminarians to whose good will the reinvigoration of ecclesiastical fervor in the entire Catholic world has been entrusted for execu-tion with the help of heavenly grace and by the applica-tion of conciliar legislation, We willingly give Our hom-age in these solemn circumstances to the sacred memory of those priests, now resting in the eternal light and peace of the Lord, to whose ministry as confessors and spiritual guides you and We entrusted the intimacy of our con-science at the various stages of our life. They are fully worthy of our commemoration. These elect souls who, having entered into eternity, now rejoice in their lofty goal or who~and they too are all holy and blessed--still wait entrance into that goal are according to the teaching of the Church participants in the events of the Church militant; they give her help especially at more important times such as this of the Ecumenical Council. It was the grace of the Lord which gave them on earth the meritorious work of the sanctifi-cation of priests in the past; may that grace now bring forth an abundance of fervor for the new birth which the Council intends to consecrate to the triuml~h of the kingdom of Christ the Lord: "ln holiness and justice be-fore him during all our days" (Lk 1:75). A Shining Example: Vincent Pallotti Beloved sons, the office of spiritual director bristles with difficulties and responsibilities, for it is concerned with the formation of souls into the image of Christ the Priest. It is a divine, not a human work. But this, far from discouraging you, constitutes the foundation of your con-fidence. You have a greater reason to abandon yourselves to the merciful omnipotence of the Divine Artisan who deigns to make use of you. Among the pleasing things of the new fervor which the Ecumenical Council is producing, it gives Us a lively sense of gratification to be able to look forward to the honors of the altar which are being prepared for some of the venerable Servants of God and of the Blessed who are a part of the universal constellation of the holiness of the Church spread throughout the world. We espe-cially look forward to the canonization of Blessed Vincent Pallotti. He was an edifying priest who knew how to unite the spiritual direction of the young clerics of the Pontifical Roman Seminary and of the students of the College of Propaganda with the founding of the Pious Society of Catholic Apostolate. This latter was the first movement in Rbme of Catholic Action in the proper sense of the word. And today we admire the flourishing condition of Catholic Action and its application to the important task of penetrating modern society with the Gospel. The entire activity of this outstanding priest was de-voted to the sanctification of the clergy and, as he himself put down in writing, to the defence of the faith and the spread of charity among Catholics; the one and the other he hoped to propagate in the entire world so that shortly there would be but one fold and one shepherd. He was the apostle of that manifold liturgical celebra-tion which still remains as an outstanding memorial to his far-sighted apostolic piety; this is the celebration of the Epiphany octave which is held each year in the Church of Sant'Andrea della Valle and which serves as a vigorous call for the development of missionary aware-ness in the Christian world and for prayer for the unity of the Church among all the peoples of the world. 4- 4- Spiritual Directors VOLUME 22~ 1963 26] Beloved, here for you to see are the words and example by which under the tutelage and impulsion of grace you can carry out the great work of fashioning the hearts of future priests according to the Heart of Christ. We have a serene assurance that Christ our Highpriest will make Our words to you fruitful. As a pledge of heavenly favors, We give to you and to all the. seminari-ans entrusted to your care Our apostolic blessing. ÷ ÷ ÷ John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 262 L. LEGRAND, M.E.P. The Spiritual Value Of Virginity According to St. Paul In his pleax for virginity in Chapter Seven of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, St. Paul insists on the greater spiritual freedom it gives: I would have you free from care. Now the unmarried man cares for the things of the Lord; his aim is to please the Lord. But the married man cares for the worldly things; his aim is to please his wife and he is divided. And the unmarried woman or the virgin cares for the things of the Lord; her aim is to be holy both in body and in spiri.t. But the married woman cares for the worldly things; her a~m ~s to please her husband (1 Cor 7:32-34). Detachment from the world, complete self-surrender to the Lord, sanctity of life: those are the reasons for which Paul prefers virginity to married life. We have studied elsewhere the "holiness" of virginity.2 It remains now to consider the other two causes which, in the eyes of Paul, make for the superiority of continence. Freedom from the World The language of the Apostle seems plain enough: celi-bacy is good becauge it is care free. The celibate is ame-rimnos, literally "careless." It goes without saying that this "carelessness" is not that of the inveterate bachelor for whom celibacy means only selfishness, attachment to comfort, privacy, and his idiosyncracies, aloofness, and dryness of heart. Paul makes it clear that what he extols is dedicated celibacy. Worldly worries are set aside so as 1 This article is reprinted with permission from Indian Ecclesiasti-cal Studies, v. 1 (1962), pp. 175-95. ~ See L. Legrand, "The Sacrificial Value of Virginity," Scripture, v. 14 (1962), pp. 67-75. 4- 4- 4- L. Legrand, M.E.P., is a faculty member of St. Peter's Seminary; Bangalore 12, In-dia. VOLUME 22, 196~ 263 4. 4. 4" L. Legrand, M.E.P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to allow a singleness of purpose in the spiritual life which would be impossible in marriage. But is that explanation as satisfactory as it seems? Robertson and Plummer see a striking parallel to Paul's exhortation to virginity in saying of Epictetus: Is it not fit that the philosopher should without any dis-traction be employed only on the ministration of God, not tied down to the common duties of mankind, nor entangled in the ordinary relations of life;~ This parallel raises a problem. I1 the parallelism of thought is real, is it not compromising for Paul? Does not make of the Apostle, at least in this instance, a Stoic philosopher rather than a disciple of Jesus; and of celi-bacy an inheritance of Hellenism rather than a genuine element of Christianity? Towards the end of the Old Testament and the begin-ning of the Christian era, the main trends of Hellenistic thought, deeply marked by Platonic influence, saw an opposition between matter and spirit, between the pres-ent temporal condition and .the ideal world to which be-longed God and the eternal reality of things. The body was considered to be a jail which man had to leave to soar through knowledge and contemplation into the se-rene sphere of immutable eternity. An ideal of continent life would have been in the logic of that system. Actually it did not develop in Hellenism as it did, on almost simi-lar premises, in the Hindu systems of the Ashrams and in Buddhist monasticism.4 In fact, the full consequences of the Greek dualism were drawn only by such Christi;tn heretics as the Gnostics, Encratites, Donatists, Cathari, Albigenses, and the like. They condemned marriage as unclean and made of celibacy the necessary condition for salvation. But they were heretics. The Church never con-demned matrimony. Following the biblical view of the world, Christian thought cannot accept the Hellenistic dualism. The material world is a creation of God; hence it is good and so is the human body with all its functions. The order "to grow and multiply" was given by the Crea-tor Himself (Gn 1:28), and in the New Convenant mar-riage has been even raised to the dignity of a sacrarnent (Eph 5:25-32). St. Paul does not' condemn marriage in Chapter Seven SDissertations 3, 22, quoted in A. Robertson and A. Plummer, Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the First Epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians (Edinburgh: Clark, 1911), p. 158. 'Yet there were a few Stoic and Neoplatonic philosophers to consider celibacy as a higher state of life. See Epictetus, Disserta. tions 3, 22; 3, 26, 62. See also A. Oepke, "'Gun~," Theologische.; W6r. terbuch zum Neuen Testament, v. 1 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1933), p. 779. But those views never resulted in a wide movement, creating special institutions as was .the case in India. of the First Epistle to the Corinthians; yet is he not in-fluenced by Hellenistic thought when advocating vir-ginity? What does he mean by the "freedom from the worldly cares" which virginity makes possible? Is it not the indifference and the disengagement from the material world which the philosophers, advocated?. Isqt not closer to the Stoic ataraxia or Neoplatonic ekstasis than to the Christian agape? Before attributing to Hellenistic infiltrations the argu-ments of Paul in the seventh chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, one should observe that such an ex-planation runs counter to the general patterns of Paul's thought and life. Paul did not consider salvation and re-ligious life as an escape from concrete realities. He has experienced ecstasy, but like all the genuine Christian mystics, he was more disturbed by it than proud of it.5 If he mentions his raptures, it is only to prove that he has a personal knowledge of what the boisterous charismatic Corinthians used to boast of. But himself, he would not glory in such things; his only pride is in his share in the humiliations of the cross (2 Cor 12:1-10). Ecstasy and deliverance from the material world were not Paul's ideal. His soul took easily to contemplation; yet he did not make of disengaged contemplation his su-preme goal. His life was surely not carefree in the sense that he had nothing to do but to meditate on the unseen realities, for was he not the missionary who had to carry "the daily burden, the worry for all the churches" besides "the labors, exertions, and persecutions" supported in carrying out his apostolate (2 Cot 11:23-27)? When he gave himself as an example of celibate life ("I would like that all of you should be like me" [1 Cor 7:7]), he did not set up a model of carelessness: "Who is weak and I am not weak? Who is scandalized and I am not on fire?" (2 Cor 11:29). Those were not the words or the attitude of a man indifferent to daily realities, lost in a nirvana of radi-cal abstraction. It is therefore a priori unlikely that the freedom from care which St. Paul saw in virginity had anything to do with the philosophical detachment from the material world. He does consider married life entangled in the world to be opposed to celibacy which is concerned only with the Lord. But does that contrast correspond to the Greek opposition of matter and spirit, kyl~ and nous? The answer must be negative. The biblical antithesis between the world (or the flesh) and God (or the Spirit) cannot be reduced to the philosophical dualism of matter and spirit. In the Bible the opposition of the world to s See C. Baumgartner, "Extase," in Dictionnaire de spiritualitd, v. 4 (Paris: Beauchesne, 1961), col. 2187-89. 4- 4- 4- Virginity VOLUME 22~ 1963 265 4. 4. 4. /. M.~.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 266 God is not ontological but moral: the world is not es-tranged from God by essence but by choice. Between the world and God there stands not a contradiction but a re-volt. Such is the clear teaching of the first chapters of Genesis. It is true that on account of man's sin, the whole order of the cosmos has been shaken: suffering and death have entered the world in the wake of sin. Yet though deeply marked by the curse of sin, the cosmos is not evil in itself; the trouble is in the heart of men, not in things.6 For centuries the prophets strove for the restoration of the original order through conversion; if only man would repent, he would recover "life" which is the harmony and peace of the original divine plan. When man proved too stubborn, the prophets understood that he was doomed. Sin was too deeply engrained in the world; death had to do its work; the present world with all its institu-tions had to be carried away. Yet since God is a God of mercy, hope remained. But it .turned into the hope of a new creation, of a salvation beyond death (Is 51:6; 65:17- 20; 66:22; Ez 37:1-14). It is this expectation of a world to come that the New Testament inherited. But that "world to come" or rather "the age to come," according to the exact meaning of the Hebrew phrase, is not the ethereal sphere of "ideas." Salvation does not consist in escaping the world but in passing from one world to another, from "this age" ruined by sin and enslaved by the "Powers" (Gal 4:3), to the "age to come" animated by the power of God's Spirit and irradiated with the divine glory. The aim of life is not "ecstasy" that would snatch man out of his body and above matter and time; it is an Exodus that takes him, body and soul, above the present condition and the corruption of sin. The image of the Exodus was frequent in the later prophets (Is 41:17-19; 43:19-20; 52:11-12) and passed to the New Testament (1 Cor 10:1- 11; Heb 2:1-4; 3:1-3; Apoc 15:1-5). Christian life is a pilgrimage (1 Pet 2:11). The Christian is a refugee run-ning from a doomed city to a place of shelter. Yet what he flees is not the flow of time but the contagion of sin and his refuge is not his spiritual self but God's kingdom. These were also Paul's views and they constitute the background of his apology for virginity. He does not op-pose marriage and continence as matter and spirit, good and evil. What he does contrast is the age to come and the present age. Virginity embodies the spirit of the king-dom; 7 marriage is rather an institution of this worhl. As Paul sees it in the First Epistle to the Corinthians, a,,For evil comes not out of the earth, nor does distress spring out of the g~ound. But man himself begets misery as sparks fly up-wards" (Jb 5:6-7). ~ See L. Legrand, "The Prophetical Meaning of Celibacy," REwEw voa l~tzc*ous, v. 20 (1961), pp. $$0-46. matrimony belongs to the "things of this world." It is not bad indeed but it is intimately connected with the present transient order. It shares in the inconsistency of this or-der; and like it, it is "subject to vanity," "enslaved to cor-ruption" that marks everything belonging to the present era (P, om 8:20-21). The world and its spirit are deeply ingrained in marriage; they enter married life through the very necessity for husband and wife "to please" each other (1 Cor 7:33-34). The verb "to please" in this context has a very strong meaning,s and Paul's thought cannot be properly grasped unless this meaning is recognized. For the modern reader, the words "to please one's husband and wife" evoke merely the sentimental show of affection and possibly of coquetry which expresses and fosters conjugal love. Con-sequently, when the text goes on to say that the married man "is divided" (v. 33), we think spontaneously of a heart divided in its affections in the modern romantic sense of the term. The difficulty for the married man would be that two different objects, Christ and his wife, appeal to his heart and that therefore he would be in the awkward position of being unable to give his love fully to either. This would be a very shallow explanation that hardly does justice to the views of the Apostle. After all, the love of God is not a matter of sensitivity; it belongs to a higher level and does not conflict with human natural feelings. God does not stand as a rival of His creatures if they do not try to usurp His place. The danger in wed-lock does not arise from a normal sentimental attachment to the partner; it lies elsewhere. The real meaning of the verb "to please" points in another direction. In a world which had little concern for chivalry and romanticism,0 more than coquetry and a show of affection were required "to please." The wife "pleased" her husband by giving him the children, he wanted (and birth control was not unknown in the Greco-P, oman antiquity10) and by con-a The Greek verb aresk6 may be very strong. Its connotations are not merely sentimental. In 1 Cor 10:13 Paul's desire "to please everybody" does not mean that he aims at popularity or that he avoids hurting the feelings of others. It expresses Paul's readiness to oblige, almost to serve all. It means about the same as "being all to all" (1 Cor 9:22). See W. Foerster, Theologisches W6rterbuch zum Neuen Testament, v. 1 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1933), p. 455. ~ See J. Carcopino, Daily Li]e in ~lncient Rome (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1956), pp. 94-5; W. J. Woodhouse, "Marriage," Encyclo. pedia o[ Religion and Ethics, v. 8 (Edinburgh: Clark, 1915), p. 444. 10 See A. E. Crawley, "Foeticide," Encyclopedia o] Religion and Ethics, v. 6 (1914), pp. 55-6. Child exposure also was not uncommon. Polybius attributed the decline of Greece° to the oliganthropia caused by those practices: "In our own times the whole of Hellas has been afflicted with a low birth rate or, in other words, with de-population, through which the states have been emptied of inhabi-tants with an accompanying fall of productivity, and this in spite of + + + Virginity VOLUME 22~ 1963 267 ducting the household efficiently (with the concessions to the ways of the world which business implied),xl For the husband it was a matter of securing [or his wife wealth, comfort, and social consideration. "Pleasing" each other covered all the aspects of the conjugal life, everything that made a marriage successful. It is easy to understand that such worldly success implied all sorts of compromises with the spirit of the world. Through the desire "to please," "the worries of the world" (v. 33) entered mar-ried life, those worries which, according to the parable, combined with wealth and pleasures, choke the growth of God's word (see Lk 8:14). If St. Paul is reticent with regard to marriage, it is not because it distracts the heart but because it tends to shoot deep roots into the present age of sin. Those roots are so deep that it is very difficult to cut oneself free, to keep in wedlock the soul of a pilgrim and to live the Exodus. Conjugal affection is not contradictorily opposed to Chris-tian requirements; but great is the danger of remaining bogged down in the present condition of considering 4- 4- 4" L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 268 the fact that we have not suffered from any continuous wars or epidemics . The people of Hellas had entered upon the false path of ostentation, avarice, and laziness and were therefore becoming unwilling to marry, or if they did marry, to bring up the children born to them; the majority were only willing to bring up at most one or two, in order to leave them wealthy and to spoil them in their childhood; and in consequence of all this the evil had been rapidly spreading. Where there are families of one or two children, of whom war claims one and disease the other for its victim, it is an evident and inevitable consequence that households should be left desolate and that states, precisely like beehives, should gradually lose their reserves and sink into impotence" (History 36, 7 as given in A. J. Toynbee, Greek Civilization and Character [New York: New American Library, 1954], p. 73). Modem authors have confirmed the judgment of the old historian: "The misery of a few districts in the third and second centuries B.C. would not suffice to explain the excesses of malthusianism; indeed it had always been a part of Greek manners; but at that time it took frightening proportions. Though we should be cautious in giving a general value to a few figures known only through epigraphy, they are not without sig-nificance. At Miletus, for seventy-nine families which received the citizenship between 228 .and 200, we find only one hundred forty-six children, out of which only twenty-eight were gifts; among those seventy-nine families, thirty-one have two children and thirty-two only one. In the course of the third century at Eretria, one out of twelve families and at Pharsalus one out of seven has more than a son; out of six hundred families known through the inscriptions of Delphi, six only have two girls. Seeing that, we cannot doubt the accuracy of the famous statement of Poseidippos: 'Even a rich man always exposes a daughter'" (R. Cohen, La Grdce et l'helldnisation du monde antique [Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1948], p. ~80). n See the rather blunt statement of the Pseudo-Demo:;thenes (59, 122): "We have heterae for our pleasure, concubines for the daily care of the body, and wives to beget legitimate children and to have somebody who can be trusted with the care of the household." pleasure, family welfare, and honor as 'the absolute goal, of letting matrimony degenerate into a mere worldly af-fair. What one would attempt if one were alone, one dare not do for the sake of the other so that, actually, through the other party it is the world and its spirit which enter the family. Conjugal harmony is: kept at the c0st of con-descensions to the weakness found or supposed to exist in the other. It is harder still in wedlock than in single life to behave already now as a citizen of heaven, to follow the ideal of the beatitudes, to be poor and meek, to bear persecutions happily, to accept being famished and down-trodden. How rare the spiritual harmony that enables a whole household to meet the challenge of the kingdom joyfullyl As Bacon said, "he that hath wife and children hath given hostages to fortune" and "children sweeten labors but they make misfortunes more bitter.''12 It may be said that this picture of matrimony is one-sided, that Christian matrimony is not only "a thing of this world." It has also a reference to the world to come by its sacramental value. This is true and the point will be considered later.13 It is clear that to give a complete and balanced theological appraisal of matrimony, Paul should have said that it is in the measure in which it is not transformed by the di-vine agap~ that conjugal love divides the soul. He should have explained that for husband and wife the desire to please each other is wrong only if and as far as they rep-resent for each other not Christ but the world with its devious judgments and seductions. But in the seventh chapter of First Corinthians Paul does not intend to give a full theology of marriage. Either because he was still to appreciate fully the positive Chris-tian value of matrimony14 or simply because--as he often does--he simplifies his thought to express it more clearly, he considers only the "worldly" aspect of married life. This worldly aspect does exist. For all its sacramental value, marriage has one side turned towards the present age. It must have that worldly side to be a sacrament at all, to be a sign. And there is always a risk that it is only this aspect that will be seen by men and that they will set their heart on the sign instead of reaching out to the signified. Sacramental realities can also be veils. Thus ~ Quoted in A. Robertson and A. Plummer,°First Corinthians, p. 154. 13See the second half of the present article. l~This is the view of C. H. Dodd in New Testament Studies (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1953), pp. 113-17. The opposite stand is taken by O. Cullmann, The Early Church (London: SCM Press, 1956), p. 173; and by X. Leon-Dufour, "Mariage et con-tinence selon S. Paul," .4 la rencontre de Dieu: Memorial .41bert Gdlin (Le Puy: Mappus, 1961), pp. 319-28. 4. 4. 4. Virginity VOLUME 22~ 1963 269 4. 4. L. Legrand, M.E.P . REVIEW I:OR REI.I~IOUS 270 when receiving manna in the desert or the miraculous loaves of Jesus, the Jews considered only "the food that perisheth" (Jn 6:27) and dreamt of an earthly kingdom with an unlimited and toilless supply of bread, They failed to perceive in the bread the power of God's word feeding them unto the "life of the ages to come" (Jn 6:26- 40). Thus, as experience proves, married people are easily tempted to set their heart upon the present tenor of marriage and lose sight of its sacramental dimension. In First Corinthians, Chapter Seven, Paul referred to that common experience which had taught the Corinthians that married life is not easily a clear and limpid reflec-tion of the divine agape. Concretely, the necessity for husband and wife "to please" each other often entails compromises with the world; for, as St. Paul and the Corinthians knew well, it is hardly possible "to please" both man and Christ (Gal 1:I0). Hence appears the significance of the contrast Paul saw between marriage and virginity. Marriage is rooted in this world. Virginity belongs to the age to come. Marriage is not condemned. It does not embody the evil of this world; it can be redeemed and transfigured. Yet it is discouraged. This is not because it multiplies earthly obligations and petty worries restricting the men-tal freedom to meditate and contemplate. Neither is because it proposes objects of affection other than Christ. It is not wife and children which disturb men but their worldly--real or supposed--requirements. The danger of matrimony is that by the whole force of circumstances which surround it it tends to remain a "thing of this age" and to enfold men in the spirit of this world. By contrast, virginity is .the ideal condition of the pil-grim who wants to progress swiftly and unencumbered across the desert. Lightly shod and with loins girt, he goes on his Exodus; he leaves the world behind and strives after the world to come. He is undivided. This does not mean that his heart has nobody to beat for but Christ. On the contrary, his love for Christ will have to take on the dimensions of the whole Body of Christ and will have to encompass the world. It means that no human love, no necessity "to please" man, will oblige him to side with the world and place him in the stretched condition of one who belongs to both sides and is torn between two loyalties, two spirits, and two standards. He is free; he has no cares, at least no cares pertaining to this world. He does not know concerns which settled family life is almost bound to cause, concerns for wealth, comforts, safety, fame. He has not the problem of secur-ing welfare and tranquillity for his dear ones in a shaken world that runs to its ruin. The Christian celibate has none of these worries. This again does not mean that he has no cares at all and that he has nothing else to do than to devote himself to intellectual or ascetical pursuit. He has his cares, the "cares for the things of the Lord" (vv. 32, ~4). "The things of the Lord" which should l~'d the virgin's only concern are not the suprasensible ideas reached by contemplation. The "Lord" in St. Paul is the risen Christ, endowed with power a~d glory after His Resurrec-tion. 1~ "The things of the Lord" are therefore the whole order which has the risen Christ as its center, the new creation, the kingdom, and, here on earth, the Church.I° As in the case of the Apostle himself, the concern only for "the things of the Lord" will not mean ataraxia, in-difference. The Christian celibate will not be spared the heavy world and the burning preoccupations of his serv-ices to the Lord. But they will be only the outward mani-festation of his devotion to his Master (see 1 Cor 9:19). Such is the freedom of the virgin. It is not the indiffer-ence which is reflected, for instance, on the serene fea-tures of the gods of Phidias, with their clear eyes that ignore the turmoil of the world to rest on the harmony of the changeless ideas. We could rather feature the Christian dedicated to virginity as the Moses of Michel-angelo (without the gigantism which is the artist's own); there is no indifference in him; he looks firmly at the children of Israel who surround him and his eyes reflect the love of God for the chosen people but also the divine disappointment and wrath. Beyond them, he sees the Holy Land-or the mountain--where he must lead them. His muscular body strains towards it; his face glows with the glory that dawns upon it. Union with Christ The typology of the Exodus does not cover entirely the reality of Christian life. At the same time as it is an ~5,,This designation expresses as does no other the thought that Christ is exalted to God's right hand, glorified and now intercedes for us before the Father" (O. Cullmann, The Christology of the New Testament [London: SCM Press, 1959], p. 195). See also the several studies of L. Cerfaux gathered in Recueil Lucien Cerfaux (Gem-bloux: Duculot, 1954), v. !, pp. :~-188. A synthesis may be found in Cerfaux's Christ in the Theology of St. Paul (Edinburgh: Nelson, 1958), pp. 461-79. 1o The Vulgate and the Latin fathers have."idealized" the opposi-tion between marriage and virginity by reading in v. 32 "quornodo placeat Deo" (instead of KyriO of the Greek text) and probably understanding similarly in v. 34 Domini of God instead of Christ (as Knox has done in his translation). By doing this, they bring the contrast closer to Platonic thought. For Paul, the contrast is not directly between the world and God, creatures and Creator, but be-tween the world and the "things of Christ," that is the present world and the new creation which Christ contains in Himself. ÷ ÷ ÷ girginity VOLUME 22, 1963 4. L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Exodus, Christian life is also life in the Land of Promise. We are still in the desert; yet the glory of the new Jeru-salem dawns already upon us. We are still in the flesh and in the world; yet we live already in Spirit and are the citizens of heaven (Phil 3:20). Correspondingly, virginity does not belong only to the desert but also to the new Jerusalem. It does not show only the tenseness of the pilgrim who wants to be unim-peded in his progression; it marks also the joy of the ar-rival when the soul has found at last what it longed for. Celibacy is not only total detachment from "the things that are upon the earth"; it is also total communion in "the things that are above"; it is life, "hidden with Christ in God" (Col 3:1-8). Free from the world, the celibate ties himself to Christ with bonds of love. Having no wife or husband "to please," the celibate is at liberty to dedi-cate all his care "to please the Lord" (1 Cor 7:82). Here also, when St. Paul says that the aim of the virgin is "to please the Lord," we should beware of giving the phrase merely sentimental significance. "To please the Lord" does not mean simply to comfort and console the Heart of Jesus. In First Corinthians "to please the Lord" is set in parallelism with "to please his wife." This paral-lelism invites us to give the same strong meaning in both cases. In the context of matrimony, the verb "to please!' expressed the interdependence and mutual belonging husband and wife. When applied to the celibate, it must describe the loving enslavement to Christ which gives continence its value. The virgin belongs to Christ as the wife belongs to her husband. To please her husband, the wife must share entirely in his views and wishes. To please the Lord, analogically, the virgin must be totally dedi-cated to Him and take His stand in everything. The theme of the spiritual marriage lies in the background. The construction of the whole passage points 'to that theme: by balancing in parallelism virginal life and con-jugal union, Paul suggests that to some extent Christ is to the virgin what the husband is to the wife.lz ~ See X. Leon-Dufour, "Mariage et continence," pp. ~22-24. In a penetrating literary analysis of 1 Cor 7, the author shows that the very construction of the chapter expresses the mutual belonging of virginity and matrimony. The chapter is built on a scheme A-B-A' (two corresponding parts divided by a digression), quite common in Paul's epistles. Part A (vv. 1-16) is addressed to married people and part A' (vv. 25-40) to the unmarried. Now we notice that in both parts the progression of the thought is disturbed by considerations belonging to the antithetic section: A speaks already about virginity (vv. 6-7) and A' cannot but evoke matrimony "as if the continence to which Paul invites his flock could be given its full significance only in relation with married life" (p. 323). Thus "the very literary and psychological trend of the chapter shows marriage and conti-nence as two inseparable realities contrasting with and yet complet-ing each other" (p. 324). The theme of the spiritual marriage figures explicitly and is connected with virginity in Second Corinthians 11:2: I am jealous for you with a divine jealousy. Fo~ I betrothed you to one husband that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ. This verse is a short allegory comparing the Corinthi-ans to a betrothed girl taken to the bridegroom by her father or by the mesit~s, the go-between who arranged the marriage. The image derives from the Old Testament where Israel is frequently called the bride of Yahweh (see Hos 2:21-22; J1 1:8; Is 54:5-6; 62:5; Jer 3:1; Ez 16:6- 43). Admittedly this text does not refer directly to the question of virginity. As in the Old Testament, the bride is not an individual but a community, here the church of Corinth. Moreover, the marriage it alludes to will be celebrated only at the Parousia; for the time being, the Church is only "betrothed." In that context "virginity is nothing else than a metaphor expressing undivided dedi-cation to Christ.''is Yet it is not insignificant that Paul uses the comparison of a "chaste virgin" to describe the union of the Church with Christ. It implies that virginal life is a living likeness of that union. What was a mere metaphor in the Old Testament takes flesh and blood in the person of the virgin. She embodies fully the mutual belonging of Christ and the Church. The "marriage feast" of the Parousia is anticipated in her life. She is given to live in all its integrity the undivided attachment of the Church for her Head. In her shines the agap~ which joins the bride to the Bridegroom and makes them "one body." Virginity is agape; it has all the intensity of love; it is not primarily disengagement and withdrawal. It is unqualified dedication to the "one husband" Christ. It shows forth the exclusiveness of that unique attach-ment. As St. Paul says, using the language of human pas-sion, it is a "jealousy," a love impatient of any alien al-legiance. Christian virginity is a spiritual marriage with Christ. It is true that Paul himself did not use the phrase. Neither did Luke when explaining the relationship of the Virgin Mary with the Holy Spirit in the Gospel of Infancy. The reason is probably that Paul and Luke avoided sponta-neously words which, in the world they lived in, were too heavily loaded with pagan connotations. The hieros gamos, the sacred union of a god with a woman had been a common feature of mythology from Sumerian times on-wards and had its ritual representation in the cult and in the mysteries. In the frame of nature worship or of a ~sSee G. Delling, Theologisches W6rterbuch zum Neuen Testa-ment, v. 5 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1954), p. 835. ÷ ÷ ÷ VirginRy ÷ ÷ L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 274 pantheistic religion, it symbolized the fecundity of na-ture. There is obviously no relation between the pagan fertility cult and the Christian ideal of continence fol-lowed by Mary and tl:te virgins. And it is understandable that Paul and Luke refrained from using the phrase "spiritual or divine marriage," since it could too easily be understood as another case of hieros garnos. That their prudence was justified is proved by the wild conclusions which the comparative school of exegesis, from the times of Celsus till our days, has drawn from the discreet allu-sions they made to the Biblical theme of God's alliance with Israel. Yet it is the allegory of marriage, stripped of any asso-ciation with nature worship, which accounts best for the Pauline and Christian doctrine of virginity. The doctrine of virginity branches of[ from the doctrine of matrimony. We must, therefore, see what marriage meant for Paul to understand what "spiritual marriage" might have meant for him if he had used the words, what he had actually in mind when he wrote of the "chaste virgin presented to the one husband Christ." It is in Ephesians 5:25-32 that the Apostle explains most fully the Christian significance of matrimony. It can be said that if the sev-enth chapter of First Corinthians pictured wedlock as it is in fact, Ephesians 5:25-32 shows it in all its ideal sacra-mental beauty. But the "lofty sacrament" opens on to the prospect of virginity. In Ephesians 5:25-32 as in Second Corinthians II:2, the Church is compared to the bride taken to the bride-groom for the nuptial celebration: Husbands, love your wife as Christ loved the Church: for her, he gave himself up, sanctifying her, cleasing her by water aild word, so that he might present the Church to himself all glori-ous, with no stain or wrinkle or anything of the sort but holy and without blemish. Thus men should love their wives. In this text there is no go-between. Christ Himself prepares His bride and there is a stress on the point that she was not pure but was made so by the cleansing love of the divine Spouse. That love which cleanses through the laver of baptism springs forth from the cross; the words "savior" and "he gave himself up" show the sacrificial background of Paul's thought. The cross was already the marriage function which Second Corinthians 11:2 had seen in the frame of the Parousia. It is on Calvary that the bride, cleansed by the love of her Spouse, W:lS em-braced by Him to become "one body" with Him. The greatness of Christian matrimony derives from its relation to the union of Christ with the Church which was realized on the cross. Conjugal love, that mysterious power which tears man and woman away from their fam-ily to draw them together (v. 31) was a sign, a "mystery." It had a hidden significance. In a secret way, it prefigured the love, the agap~ that seals together Christ and the Church and makes them one body (v. 32). The Old Testa-ment did not know this mysterious orientation of the conjugal union but now the mystery is revealed. If placed under the influence of 'the,sacrifice of Christ', that is, if it is lived in the spirit of unselfishness and dedication which breathed in the sacrifice of Christ, conjugal love sym-bolizes the bond of charity which unites the Church with her Head and contains the life flowing through their joint Body (vv. 23, 30). Penetrated with the spirit of Christ, matrimony enshrines the divine agape; it con-tinues the sacrifice of Calvary and its efficacy. By that sacramental efficacy and in the line of that symbolism, each party represents, for the other, Christ and His re-quirements of self-denying charity: husbands love their wives as Christ loved the Church and wives obey their husbands with the same joyful abandon which animates the Church (vv. 33, 22-25). In the measure in which con-jugal affection accepts to turn into charity, wedlock is holy and "has a relevance to Christ and the Church" (v. 32); indeed, it is a part of their mysterious union. Now, "lofty" as it may be, the "mystery" of Christian matrimony remains a sign, imperfect and inadequate as any sign. After all, in Ephesians 5:25-32 it. is not said that Christ loved the Church as a husband loves his wife, but rather that husbands should love like Christ: Con-jugal love does not explain the union of Christ for'the Church; on the contrary, this union reveals the latent significance of marriage. The agap~ of Christ is set as the ideal norm of human love: it is the reality whereas matri-mony is only its sacrament. Though the "mystery" it contained has been revealed, matrimony keeps its existence and its consistency of sign, as if the veil had not been removed but only pierced b~ a powerful light. The light shines through, the veil be-comes the medium of communication of the light; but it is still there; and, transparent as it may be, it may still absorb some of the light. Containing a significance and an efficacy pertaining to the world to come, matrimony keeps its earthly solidity and persists in its "this-worldly" existence. At the same time as it announces the eschato-logical marriage feast of the Lamb, it remains union in a flesh not yet transfigured by the Spirit.19 :~The point can be expressed technically in the theological lan-guage which distinguishes in the sacraments between the sacra. mentum tantum, the res tantum, and the reset sacramentum. In matrimony, the res is the divine agap~ sealing the unity of the Mys-tical Body as it seals Me conjugal cell. The sacramentum tantum is the conjugal union. Christian marriage is reset sacramentum: there is intercompenetration of the symbol and of the spiritual reality. Christian virginity on the contrary is the res tantum of matrimony. 4- 4- Virginity VOLUME 22, 1963 275 4. 4. 4. L. Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS We saw that it is that "worldly" aspect of matrimony which is responsible for its spiritual opacity.2° The spirit-ual reality may be absorbed in the worldly thickness of the "sign" and even in the most favorable cases when it is the most transparent, matrimony remains a sign, a re-flection, not the light itself. This sacramental value of matrimony is at the same time its greatness and imper-fection. The "mystery" is at once revealed through the screen, yet hidden in its worldly folds. Or, to take an image which is Paul's, it reflects the agap~ of the cross, but only in the cloudy and confused way of the old mir-rors of polished metal (see I Cor 13:12). Because it is a closer participation in the sacrifice of the cross, virginity represents better the agap~ which ani-mated it. It not only reflects that love, it embodies it. Virginity is not a sacrament. It does not set the screen of any sign between Christ and man. In it, the divine love is not refracted through the mediation of any "worldly" feeling. There is nobody who stands for Christ to repre-sent Him; the contact is direct between Christ and the bride. Matrimony is turned towards the agap~ of the sacrificed Christ as towards its fulfillment; virginity com-munes directly in that agap& The agap~ lived in matri-mony was mediated charity; virginity is agap~ reaching directly its object. In the words of the Roman liturgy: While no prohibition lessens the dignity of marriage and while the nuptial blessing resting on matrimony is safeguarded, nevertheless there will be nobler souls who, spurning the carnal union entered into by man and wife, strive after the mystery it signifies ([astidirent connubiura, concupiscerent sacramentura). Without imitating what takes place in matrimony., they devote their entire love to the mystery signified by marriage (nec imi-tarentur quod nuptiis agitur, sed diligerent quod nuptiis pr~,e-notatur).~ 1 Virginity is the plentitude of agapO; it shows forth the reality that matrimony contains only in a veiled way. It is the full revelation of the "mystery" still half hidden in sacramental marriage.22 Like the love of the Spouse in the Canticle, the agapd of the celibate is a blazing fire, a flame of Yahweh (see Cant 8:6).23 This fire of love makes of virginal life a holo- ~o See the first part of the present article. .-a Preface of the Consecration of Virgins in the Roman Pontifical. We fellow the translation given in L. Munster, Christ in His Conse-crated Virgins (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1957), pp. 131-2. ="To be living images of the perfect integrity which forms the bond of union between the Church and her divine Bridegroom is assuredly the supreme glory o~ the virgin" (Plus XII, Sacra Vir-ginitas). = We follow for this text the translation of A. Robert, L~ Can-tique des cantiqu~s (Paris: Cerf, 1951), p. 58. caust in which the "flesh" is burnt up and with it any sign, any reality of the present world. Virginity is love impatient of the mediation of any symbols. In that re-spect too, it is analogous to the sacrifice of the cross: the death on the cross was a sacrifice without rites because in its utter despoliation all the.symbolical realities of the world came to an end; there remained only the naked corpse on the bare wood in a total holocaust of anything belonging to this world. Virginity too is a festivity with-out rites, a marriage feast celebrated without any exter-nal rejoicings because, as the cross and in it, this marriage is consummated and consumed in a holocaust of self-denying love that raises it above this world. It is in that sense that virginity is a spiritual marriage. It is a marriage: in the phrase "spiritual matrimony," the adjective does not obliterate the noun. Virginity is a thing of love, total communion to the divine agap~ which is the essence of the life of Christ and of life in Christ. That marriage is spiritual. Spiritual does not mean metaphorical. The spiritual union of Christ with the vir-gin is not a vague likeness of the conjugal union. It is rather the opposite; virginity gives the true picture of real love in all its intensity and purity. Neither is it spiritual in the Platonic sense of the term. It does not correspond to a chimerical dream of abolition of the flesh. In virginity the flesh is accepted as it was in the Incarnation. But it is sanctified, transformed as the flesh of Jesus was in His glorification. The glorification does not delete the Incarnation; it fulfills it. Virginity is no negation of the flesh but its consecration. The virginal union with Christ is spiritual in the bib-lical sense of the term. It shows man's transformation by the power of the Spirit. The Spirit, the divine force that animates the new creation, takes possession of man's body and soul, freeing them from "the shackles of corruption" to give them "the glorious liberty of the children of God." And the transforming force which the Spirit implants in the virgin is the charity of God (Rom 5:5), the flame of love which, coming from God, consumes the flesh of the virgin and transmutes it into the likeness of the "spiritual flesh" of the risen Christ (1 Cot 15:45-49). The New Testament does not explicitly call virginity a spiritual marriage. Yet its doctrine of marriage and its exhortations to virginity converge towards that theme because both states of life refer to the mysterious con-nubial union of Christ and the Church which marriage prefigures and virginity embodies. Linked by that com-mon relation to the mystery of Christ, virginity and matri-mony are intimately connected. Matrimony moves to- + + + Virginity VOLUME 22, 1963 4. 4. 4. L. Legrand, M .E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS wards a virginal type of love as towards its fulfillment, and virginity is nothing but the full realization of that which is prefigured in marriage. The best exposition of the spiritual meaning of Chris-tian virginity would be, therefore, a Christian transposi-tion of the Canticle of Canticles, the nuptial song of the Old Testament.~4 The liturgy, the fathers of the Church, and the mystics have understood it spontaneously and have repeatedly made of the Canticle the epithalamium of the Christian life dedicated to the Lord. From Origen's homilies on the Canticle to the com-mentary of St. Bernard and the Spiritual Canticle of St. John of the Cross, it would be easy to compose a mag-nificent anthology in which the best of Christian elo-quence and lyricism would figure. As a sample of what this anthology would contain, it is difficult to resist the temptation of quoting at least extracts of the hymn with which Methodius concludes his Symposium on Chastity. The Ten Virgins who have taken part in the symposium conclude their discussion with the triumphal chorus: For Thee, I keep myself chaste, and with a lighted torch in hand, 0 my Spouse, I come to meet Thee. And the stanzas follow each other, composed by Thecla, the most eloquent among them: From above, O virgins, there came the sound of a voice that raises the dead. It says: Hasten to meet the Bridegroom in white robes and with lamp in hand. Turn to the East. Arise lest the King should precede you at the gates. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself .'. For Thee, O King, spurning a rich home and the embrace of mortals, I came in spotless robes, to enter with Thee within tile bridal chambers. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself. In my eagerness for Thy grace, O Lord, I forget my own country. I forget the dances of my companions, the desire even of mother and kindred, for Thou, 0 Christ, art all things to me. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself. 0 blessed bride of God, thy couch do we adorn with hymns. And we praise thee, O Church, immaculate virgin, pure like snow, wise, undefiled, lovely. [Chorus:] For Thee, I keep myself. Open thy gates, O resplendent queen, and take us too within the bridal room. O spotless and triumphant bride, breathing ~ Such transposition is not too distant from the literal sense if it is accepted that in its literal sense the Canticle is an allegory of the convenant relationship of Yahweh with Israel. See A. Robert, Le Cantique, pp. 7-23; also A. Feuillet, Le Cantique des cantiques (Paris: Cerf, 1953). beauty, behold we stand round Christ, clad like Him, singing thy nuptials, O happy maiden.~ The canticle of Methodius weaves a web of biblical themes. The bride of the Canticle and of Psalm 45 has joined the Bridegroom of the parable (Mr 27:.!-13). The voice that arouses the Ten~Vii-gihs is tha(.~vhich had called Abraham and invited him to leave "home and kindred" for the first Exodus to Canaan (Gn 12:1). It is also the voice that raised Christ from the dead. The nup-tial procession is at the same time an Exodus and an As-cension that takes the Church and the virgins to the bridal chamber of the King. There is more in that text than fanciful allegory; the profusion of biblical allusions shows a thought deeply rooted in biblical ground. The hymn echoes Paul's call to virginity, Though amplified, the exhortation of the Apostle is rendered faithfully. The attitude and the bliss of the Ten Virgins corresponds exactly to the ideal proposed by Paul to the Corinthians of a life "free from worldly worries" to be spent "waiting upon the Lord without distraction" (1 Cot 7:35). ~Patrologia Graeca, v. 18, col. 208-9. A substantial part of the hymn is quoted and translated in J. Quasten, Patrology, v. 2 {Utrecht: Spectrum, 1953), pp. 4, ÷ ÷ VOLUME 22~ 196;~ 279 SISTER MARY CELESTE, S.M. The Virtue of Mercy Sister Mary leste, $.M., is on the faculty of the Col' lege of Our Lady of Mercy; 2300 Ade-line Drive; Burlin-game, California. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS As the good news of Christ continues to be heralded, classrooms in Catholic schools rapidly mushroom into being and innumerable extra rows of desks are squeezed into innumerable older rooms; CGD classes flourish; hos-pital beds are filled; homes for the aged, the mentally ill, the delinquent, the abandoned and helpless have long waiting lists; clinics are daily crowded to capacity. The works of mercy are literally endless. Yet precisely for that reason, their true purpose must be all the more clearly understood if the pitfall of activism is to be avoided. This is especially necessary for the sister whose community is officially sent by the Church to bear witness to Christ in the ministry of mercy. She is responsible, in whatever way her individual position allows, to see to it that the works are authentically merciful ones--that they are per-meated through and through with the spirit of Christ's mercy. This means that she must know well what mercy is and how it is incarnated in her own apostolic action. If we follow the fruitful approach of St. Thomas in striving to gain. some insight into the nature of mercy, we will begin not with an abstract definition of it but rather with the concrete existential situation in which a merciful person finds scope for his activities. We may then analyze the kind of response that is given in such a situation, and finally we may ask what kind of person is needed for these works--one who will respond merci-fully. Since mercy, according to St. Thomas, is a virtue,1 this last question involves asking about the particular habit-patterns of virtue which must be integrated into the personality of one who is merciful. But since it also entails a rather complex group of associated virtues and supporting habits, we must examine this structure in some detail in order to find out precisely what kind of effort is needed to build such habits and thus to develop most effectively the virtue of mercy. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.3. Starting-Point: the Misery of Man First, let us turn to the concrete situation. Where does a person inspired by mercy find a ready field for the driv-ing impulse of this spirit? Always~ it is in a need. But it is not just any need; not physical need alone, although this may be part of it. There must be a specifically human need: a situation in which man finds himself in misery, falling short of what he needs to attain his human fulfill-ment. 2 Ultimately, this fulfillment lies in his beatific union with God; and therefore his most radical misery is his sinfulness. All unhappiness stems from this. But in addition to guilt before God, human misery vitiates every facet of existence: it is the old problem of evil in the world of the sons of Adam. The stimulus for mercy, then, is human distress. It is man faced with the impossibility o[ attaining the true happiness for which he is destined,n It is Job buffetted by Satan; it is the unfaithful wife of Hosea in her willful waywardness; it is the thief dying on the cross. In our own day, in a far more sophisticated and complex civili-zation, the misery of man takes on the most piteous of forms--all the heavy trials that burden man's physical life and his mind and spirit; inadequacy and weakness and guilt of all kinds; confusion of the young who idealis-tically grope for vague goals yet are shackled by luxury and habits of indecision; bitterness, bewilderment, neg-lect and persecution, even just punishment; and espe-cially, the despair of those who have given up the search for happiness. It is man in misery, lacking what he needs for the fulfillment of his humanness in union with God. The Works of Mercy: Response to Misery What response does misery evoke in the merciful? It inspires and stimulates the work of carrying out into ef-fective action whatever will i-eally remove the defects which stand in the way of another person's happiness. God Himself is called merciful because oust of His loving kindness He actually takes away the miseries of man.4 Especially by His redemptive Passion and Resurrection, Christ delivered man from the greatest of miseries; and in this act God showed more abundant mercy than if He had forgiven sins without asking satisfaction, for He actu-ally went to the trouble, as it were, of doing something personal and positive to remedy the situation.5 So, too, a merciful person does all he can to dispel the misery of another. *Summa Theologiae, I, q.21, a.4. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.1. Summa Contra Gentiles, 1, c.91. Sumlna Theologiae, 3, q.46, a.l, ad 3. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mercy VOLUMI: 22, 1963 2~! + Sister Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 282 This means that certain external works are necessary in order to communicate the good things which the dis-tressed person lacks,e St. Thomas classes these works un-der the heading of "almsgiving," and divides them ac-cording to the kind of need that cries out for relieL Some needs are concerned with the maintenance of physical life: food, clothing, shelter, care in sickness, freedom from slavery of all sorts. But man is not merely a physical thing; so proper respect must be given the body destined for resurrection, and his spiritual needs must be relieved by prayer, instruction, and counseling. The sorrowful must be encouraged and the wayward corrected and pardoned.7 It is within the context of the active life, therefore, that the merciful person directly ministers to the needs of his neighbor.S He carries out into the realm of action the teaching of St. John to love not in word or tongue only but in deed and in truth (1 Jn 3:18). Such response to misery in the works of mercy is easily observable in the lives of the founders of religious insti-tutes which flourish today. We are so familiar with the details of our own founder's work that we tend to forget the amazing range of misery with which he was con-fronted. In fact, no individual, however energetic, can possibly cope with the vast extent of human ills that come within his vision. Thus it was a natural development that, under the leadership of a great person, others shar-ing his spirit formed themselves into a group in order to accomplish what they could not do as individuals. The work of schools, hospitals, institutions for the care of the poor and aged and delinquent in turn necessitated the organization of a religious community which would be inspired by the vital spirit of its founder and would as-sure continuity to the works. A community of itself, however, is not enough. Though the outward forms of human misery may change with time and place, its essence is as universal as wounded hu-manity itself. And in her universal compassion, Mother Church incorporates the community as a living member within herself. Through the major superior as her repre-sentative, the Church receives the vows by which an in-dividual religious is totally committed to Christ. In turn, she gives to the community an official mandate to carry out the works of mercy as part of her own universal apos-tolate of bringing all men to union with God in Christ. This goal is identical with that of the perfection o1! hu-man happiness for all men, the ultimate obliteratic.,n of human misery. Therefore, every member of a community nSumma Theologiae, 2-2, q.32, a.5. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.32, a.2 and 3 ~Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.188, a.2; De Caritate, a.8; De Per- [ectione Vitae Spiritualis, c.13. whose very raison d'etre is the Church's works of mercy must be essentially dedicated to the active life of service. Within the framework of her religious life, the sister must minister to the poor, the sick, those in need of instruc-tion and care. If she does not carry out her share with complete personal dedication,, she .not only,, fails to be a merciful individual and thwarts the united endeavor of her community but in a real sense hinders the very work of Christ in His Church. The Merci]ul Person As active religious, then, it is essential that we become the kind of person who will respond to human misery in a way that will really bring about its relief and thus ef-fect the happiness of our fellow man in his union with God. Our vocation is to be a merciful person. What is meant by saying that we want to become a certain kind of person? It is a fact that at entrance into religious life, we are already possessed of a distinctive personality; and personalities vary greatly. Of course, these differences will remain. But when we become a re-ligious, we do intend to become someone in a way that we were not before. We intend to grow into an attitude, to take on a new quality and direction of endeavor which is characteristic of our community. We express this in-tention by saying that we want to have the spirit of the community, to incorporate into our personality that par-ticular aspect of Christian spirituality which is best suited to the apostolic work proper to this community. This means that we consciously try to cultivate those habitual ways of acting which characterize the merciful person. We want, in other words, to acquire the habit, the virtue of mercy.° Human virtue, according to St. Thomas, is an opera-tive habit disposing a man to good action.1° As strictly human, it cannot be merely an automatism which, oni:e acquired, allows us to carry on action in a quasi-mechani-cal and unthinking way, like tying our shoelaces,it Virtue is a mastery-habit, demanding attention and free adher- ~ In this discussion we are speaking of moral virtue as perfecting human powers insofar as it is acquired by our own efforts. It is commonly taught that, in addition, there are "infused moral vir-tues," which complement the acquired ones and come with sanctify-ing grace and charity. lOSumma Theologiae, 1-2, q.55, a.2 and 3. 1, Servais Pinckaers, O.P., "Virtue Is Not a Habit," Cross Cur-rents, v. 12 (Winter, 1962), p. 68. "To define virtue as a habit would seem necessarily to be making man into a pure automaton, and to be depriving his action of its properly human value." The author here clearly limits his meaning of "habit" to "automatism,,' and does not take the word to include "mastery-habit" as we have done here. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR REL[GIOUS 284 ence of the will, manifesting an interiority and personal commitment in each action.12 The virtues we acquire be-come, as it were, a second nature to us, wellsprings of good actions which strengthen and dispose our human powers for realizing their specific goodness. Thus, without sacri-ficing individuality, members of a community strive to acquire a perfecting habit which exercises a distinctive influence as the "spirit" of their work. As soon as we begin to ask what mercy is, it becomes obvious that we cannot deal with it as an isolated virtue. In the practical order, of course, this is true of any virtue. Mercy in action requires a whole complexus of related virtues, a patterned grouping of habits to support it. It requires at the same time a principle of unity by which these habits are integrated into the structure of one's per-sonality and can function in cooperation for a common end. Because of the many strenuous and complex de-mands made by the external works of mercy, a sister whose life is dedicated to such worlds will be gravely en-dangered by a lack of unity in her person. But conversely, her life will be all the richer and more fruitful if it is consciously balanced and ordered toward a unified goal. This is especially crucial for a woman. Psychologically, a woman's strength lies not so much in the mastery of a single field as it does in the integrating power which weaves a widespread variety of human activities into a coherent wholeness. In the life of a sister engaged in works of mercy, the pattern of wholeness--that is, of those vir-tues and habits of action which are consciously acquired during the formative years of religious life--is specifically focused on the kind of situation which should evoke mercy: namely, that of human misery. In the responding compassion of the merciful woman, every power of her human personality is engaged. For one whose vocation it is to be thus dedicated and whose calling as religious includes the essential obliga-tion to strive for maturity and full effectiveness in the apostolate, it is important to know clearly how her pow-ers can be unified and perfected for merciful action so that such action comes as it were by second nature, ha-bitually. Everyone has the powers. The crux of the mat-ter is the question of virtue and of the subordinate good habits conducive to virtuous action. Here finally we come to the virtue of mercy in its plenary context: as a kind of master-habit toward whose perfect operation the ac-tivities of other human powers are directed by subordi-n See George P. Klubertanz, S.J., The Philosophy o! Human Nature (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1953), pp. 272-97. The content of this paper owes much to further developments of these ideas in a course on Thomistic theory of moral character given by Fr. Klubertanz. nate habits. The mature personality of the religious is stabilized (but by no means stereotyped) and made apt for merciful action by the unified structuring of these interrelated habits. The Perception oI Misery The initiation of actual response to misery is the recog-nition of it. This seems obvious. Yet there are facets of misery which are not so obvious that they are recognized by everyone; and there are degrees of awareness among those who do recognize that there is some need. The sister who aims to acquire the virtue of mercy must ask: How can human misery be most keenly perceived? How ca, n insight into unhappiness be developed and deepened? There is no question, first of all, of "training" our eyes and ears; whatever we see, we see, and getting glasses to perfect our vision is not habituation at all but only an aid to the proper actual functioning of our sense o1: sight. The perception of unhappiness is rather a matter of noticing, of paying attention to those elements within our range of vision which carry meaning. To do this, the powers of imagination, sense memory, and estimative sense must be developed under the guidance of reason so that one habitually notices the kind of detail that is rele-vant. Some accumulation of experience is necessary here. For a young religious endeavoring to build the needed habits, it will be very helpful to have the guidance of an experienced person who can direct her interested atten-tion to the minute aspects of a human situation that bear on unhappiness--the tensing of a cheek muscle, the slight threadbareness of a sleeve, the brittleness of a laugh. What is sometimes vaguely referred to as "intuition" or "hunch" is, more precisely, the focusing of awareness on the material hints and expressions of poverty, ignorance, guilt, pain, confusion, weakness, of any form of human evil. Watching for these hints and observing others more adept at noticing them, we may improve and control our sensitive knowing powers for discerning and evaluating concrete situations of misery. But human misery is not something that can be sensed. It is an intelligible reality that must be understood and judged. A sharpened sensitivity to the material signs of misery will develop only with the growing realization of their meaningfulness in the lives of those we desire to help. In order to read the language of these signs, then, certain acts of intellectual understanding must concur with the functioning of the sensory powers. A mutual re-lationship exists here: by our intellect we comprehend the imeaning in the material image, and this understanding in turn is a guideline for our imaginative and estimative + ÷ ÷ VOLUME 22, 1962 285 + ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Celeste, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS powers to furnish and elaborate precisely those images which bear a meaning-content relevant to merciful ac-tion. How is facility for such intellectual acts acquired? It seems evident that there must be some serious and con-sistent meditation on the human goal of beatitude and on the nature of sin which is the chief obstacle to achiev-ing that goal. The object of mercy is hierarchized accord-ing to the goods which God loves in man and "desires" for him; hence, there must be true judgments about the relative value of various deficiencies in such goods. Sin is the supreme evil, and effective compassion for the sinner is the most merciful act. After this come the many ills concomitant with the sinfulness of man--injustice, preju-. dice, war, poverty, oppression. To judge of these evil~; clearly, a study of the social and behavioral science~ would seem at least highly desirable if not necessary. Complementary to these disciplines, the development of an appreciation for great literature will aid the sister in observing concrete instances of misery and its tragic ef-fect in human lives. In short, a truly liberal education with theology as its core ought to contribute much to tile degree in which the object of mercy is perceived. To keep the proper perspective, we must renew these judgments with conviction until they crystallize into our permanent outlook. But it is not only the object of mercy which must be judged; we ourselves must reflect on how we stand in relation to the action that we are doing. A realistic evaluation of our own position, motivated by concern for the one in need, must include the conviction that we likewise are immersed in the conditions of hu-manity and that therefore whatever good we are able to communicate to others is first a gift to us. The lack of this conviction is pride; and the vice of pride is a direct ob-stacle to the practice of mercy. The proud are without mercy, St. Thomas tells us, because they despise others and think them deserving of the sufferings they have to undergoA~ John Kuskin has stated well the kind of self-judgment that a merciful person makes: I believe that the test of a truly great person is humility. I do not mean by humility doubts about his own ability. But really great men-have a curious feeling that greatness is not in them but through them and they . see something divine in every other man and are endlessly, foolishly, and ~ncred~bly merciful. Sensitivity to Suffering Though perception of misery is the first requisite of the act of mercy, its essence is in the affective response to misery. For the clarity of perception itself depends basi- Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.2 ad 3. cally upon the concern we have for aiding another. Now concern for another is a matter of love. Human love, like human knowledge, is a unified act engaging the whole person, spiritual and physical. To love someone humanly, it is natural that our feelings should concur with our willing of his good However, there is an initial difficulty in the matter responding to unhappiness: the first impulse in the face of misery is to shun it, for we are naturally attracted to what is pleasant and try to avoid what is evil. Do the sen-sitive appetites, then, have any part in the act of mercy? First of all, we may note that the perception of someone else's misery may provoke one of two contrary attitudes in us. There may be a detached unconcern for an evil that in no way affects us at present, together with the hope that the unpleasantness of seeing another suffer will be quickly removed and forgotten. On the other hand, there may be a reaction of sympathy, a feeling of sorrow for the distressed person. This latter movement"of the sensitive appetite is the act of pity.1~ Now considered on the sensitive level alone, an act is neither virtuous nor morally bad because it is not yet a human act. Can we say, then, that it does not matter which attitude a person has, as long as he is influenced by spiritual love? And further: might it not be better to remain, as far as pos-sible, emotionally uninvolved? If we let our feelings run away with us, there is danger that' sentimentality will govern our actions; and this is not a good. To answer the question of the role of sensitivity in mercy, we may first point out a negative aspect. The dangers of sentimentality should not be minimized; there is a definite risk taken. There is a kind of undesirable emotional involvement which consists in identifying one-self with the patient or one in need to the extent that his anxiety, confusion, and helplessness are communicated to us instead of being relieved by us. This would be equiv-alent to becoming a beggar in order .to .help beggars, and thereby cutting off the very possibility of saving anyone from the misery of beggarhood. Because of warnings about such risks, young religious sometimes fear to admit to themselves that they do feel grief or anxiety for others, that they are really affected by seeing suffering and pov-erty. It would be helpful, when such is the case, to reflect on the consequences of this outlook. Fear of danger leads naturally to avoidance of the dangerous occasion. In this instance, the sister may unconsciously tend to avoid those situations which arouse her feelings of pity, and in so doing is avoiding the very misery toward which mercy is 1~ Sum~na Theologiae, 1-2, q.35, a.8. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mer~y VOLUME 22, 196~ 287 ÷ ÷ ÷ Si~ter Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS directed. This obviously is not the way to develop the virtue of mercy. A further reflection on the conditions sentimentality would help to alleviate her fears. For pity will never degenerate into sentimentality when its exer-cise is buttressed with the clarity of intellectual vision and intensity of spiritual love required by an act of true mercy. Emotional involvement with those in misery, when incorporated into this virtuous (and hence, controlled) act, will never cause a loss of interior peace, patience, and trust in divine Providence. From the positive point of view, sensitivity to suffering of others should be regarded as a real asset, integral to the practice of mercy. St. Augustine says that mercy is heartfelt sympathy for another's distress, impelling us help him if we can.15 The Latin word for mercy, miseri-cordia, denotes sorrow of heart (miserura cordis) or com-passion for the unhappiness of another as though it were one's own.1. Of course, temperamental dispositions differ and solne persons are more sensibly affected than others; but the emotion of sorrow is a universally human one, and to some extent every human person feels it. Being moved with sorrow for another, we are more likely to do an act of mercy for him. Freely to take on sorrow for a misery that is not our own, to let ourselves be hurt when this is not a necessity, requires a special habit to strengthen our natural sen.,;tendency to fear and reject evil. The virtue of forti-tude is this habit, enabling us to face and accept the diffi-culties of personally assuming the suffering involved compassionate response to misery. This virtue is at the same time a guarantee against sentimentality and a bul-wark to fortify us throughout the consequent difficulties of carrying mercy into practical action. Courage to sympathize, to co-suffer with the unhappy, results also in a keener insight into the depth of misery. One's personal experience of vicarious suffering is the basis for a connatural knowledge which cannot be had on a purely speculative level. No matter how much we contemplate the social conditions of poverty and the par-ticular details of this family's wretched plight, we cannot really know what their misery is unless it affects us in our whole being: unless our judgment is swayed by a concern that is at once a willed and a felt love. In order to under-stand how the redeeming love of God works providen-tially in the "crooked lines" of evils in the human con-dition, we must feel ourselves within this condition. An habitual sensitivity to the suffering of others, habit of pity, is therefore an integral part of the total St. Augustine, De Civitate Dei 9.5. Summa Theologiae, I, q.21, a.3; 1-2, q.35, a.8; 2-2, q.30, a.l. pattern of mercy because the feeling of compassion is al-ready the directing of the sensitive appetites toward the object of mercy.1~ While not itself a virtue in the com-plete sense, pity contributes the "matter" as it were of the total response, being given its "form" or determining specification as virtue by the complementary tendency of merciful love in the will. Because of the dynamic influ-ence of this love, channeled and controlled by right judg-ment, the emotion of pity as a fully human response is truly virtuousJs It gives an intensity to the impulse of mercy to relieve the distress so keenly felt. Charity: the Source ol Mercy Formally and essentially, the act of mercy is a special kind of willed love. Whatever may be the absence or presence, the strength or weakness of supporting habits and virtues in other powers, the absolute requirement for mercy is the free and deliberate choice to love another who is in need. We make this choice as the radical orien-tation of our lives in accepting a religious vocation to an institute whose commission from the Church is to carry out her works of mercy. Thereby we accept the solemn obligation to reinforce by repeated acts what is implicit in this orientation: that is, to develop the habitual facility or virtue for good and effective action most properly be-longing to such an institute. What kind of love is the essence of mercy? In the first instance, this love must be benevolence: a willing of good for the sake of the person about whom we are concerned. It must be completely other-directed, outgoing. Religious are greatly aided in developing unselfishness in love by the numerous opportunities in community living to show thoughtfulness and consideration for others. The mani-festations of such concern are by no means of merely pe-ripheral importance, for a deficiency in love is a defi-ciency in the essence of mercy. Even on the sensitive level, pity is directed not to oneself but to another,a9 A selfish act is a disordered love-choice not only different from but contradictory to the choice of loving mercifully. There-fore, any habitual selfishness, no matter how slight it is or how trivial its object, will be a direct obstacle to de-veloping the virtue of mercy. The subjective aspect of benevolence--that is, true de-sire of good for another--must be complemented by its objective counterpart: desire for another of what is truly 1*St. Thomas notes that the reason why God forbad cruelty to animals in the Old Testament was that even pity for the suffering of animals makes a man better disposed to take pity on his fellow man. Summa Theologiae, I-2, q.102, a.6 ad 8. XSSumma Theologiae, 1-2, q.59, a.l ad 3; 2-2, q.$0, a.$. ~ Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.l ad 2. 4. + 4. VOLUME 22, 196~ 289 ÷ ÷ Sister Mary ~eleste, $3tL REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS good. Ultimately, the true good of man is his perfect hap-piness in union with God. When we desire that a person have what is needed for this, our benevolence toward him is charity. It should be remembered that the dual precept of charity in no way detracts from its nature as a single virtue; by charity, God is loved both as supreme good in Himself and as the goal of human striving. Thus when we love another in charity, we desire for him the beati-tude toward which we also aim. The attainment of this common goal, uniting us in a social bond as fellow viatores, is hindered by our misery. Therefore, if we love God and desire that all men be united with Him, our charity will (as nearly as this is possible) be a love patterned on His. We will not seek in others what we lack and not merely respond to a goodness in others which we find there. Rather, out of the abun-dance of love, we will be able to confer on others a good-ness which we do not find, which we ourselves only hold as a gift in the first place. We will aim to relieve their misery. This is Christian love. If Christianity has been a civilizing influence in the world, it is because, as Da-ni~ lou writes, civilization is "a state of human life in which individual man is accorded his due of respect and love, being loved the more in proportion as he may be defenseless, lonely, or unlucky.''20 Since charity is the essence of Christian perfection, it is afortiori the virtue par excellence of the religious who is bound by vow to strive for Christian perfection. In the religious state, the vows are means to this goal. The pur-pose of poverty is to free one's love from attachment: to material things, for our finite human affections cannot be fully concentrated on God if they are tied down. by many physical concerns. Charity is also hindered by an excessive craving for pleasures of the flesh which prevent the development of spiritual love. Chastity does not stamp out or distort the humanness of love but univer-salizes it so that the concern of the heart may extend to all persons. Charity is hindered most of all by the in-ordinate willing of one's own independence. Obedience especially makes the sister a sharer in community effort which is part of the Church's mission of mercy i'n the world. Thus the specific way in which charity is de-veloped in a religious is intrinsically influenced by the spirit and virtue of poverty, chastity, and obedience as directly oriented to the perfecting of spiritual love: The immediate effect of charity as the benevolent love by which we desire for others their happiness in union with God is our own bond of union with them, a special and personal kind of belonging. "It is the nature of di- Jean Dani~lou, Lord oI History (Chicago: Regnery, 1958), p. 66. vine charity," St. Thomas writes, "that he who loves in this way should belong not to himself but to the one loved.''zl In belonging to another, we take on vicariously whatever is his lot, suffering included. We feel it our-selves even though the misery is'not radically our own.m Thus God Himself is said~to pity us because of His love by which He regards us as belonging to Him33 This note of belonging to the one loved may be re-garded from another aspect also. We see that the virtue of charity is perfected in three "dimensions." First, its extent must be universal, including all persons.destined for beatific union with God. Secondly, its intensity is measured by the hardships one is willing to endure for the sake of those loved, even to the point of laying down one's life. Finally, its effects are seen in the gifts of good-ness bestowed: not only in material things, not only in spiritual benefits, but even in the total personal dedica-tion of oneself.~4 Pondering this last "dimension" of charity, we recall that human love is humanly symbolized in gift-giving. The extent and intensity of love is externally shown by the value of the gift bestowed. There are degrees in the alms of mercy just as in any gift, for mercy is always freely given love, Ministering to the physical needs of another is the first and most evident degree, siv.ce man cannot fittingly strive for spiritual goals if he does not have what is needed materially for a decent human life. On a higher level, there are spiritual benefits which do not exceed the natural human capacity for giving: for instance, the com-munication of truth reached by human insight and evi-dence. But of more value still are those goods which are truly supernatural, such as divinely revealed truth or the grace of the sacraments. One who bestows on others gifts of this kind practices a singular perfection of brotherly love, for it is directly by means of these gifts that man at-tains union with God.2" A gift, however, remains but a symbol. That which is signified is the interior disposition of love which is in the person the motivating source from which his action flows. The true worth of a gift can only be judged by the extent to which the giver's love has been concretized in the per-sonal act of donation. The more fully the whole person must be involved in this act, the more apt this particular kind of action is for expressing an intense and universal love. Now the works of mercy not only give scope for a De Perlectione Yitae Spiritualis, c.lO. Summa Theologiae, 9-2, q210, a.2. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.2 ad 1. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.18,1, a.2 ad 8. De Per]ectione Yitae Spiritualis, c.14. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mercy VOLUME 22~ 196.~ 291 4. 4. 4. Sister Mary Celeste, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 292 complete engagement of the giver, but when they really spring from charity they absolutely require this total dedication. For merciful love is redemptive. It means taking on the misery of another in order to heal and strengthen and lift up; and this can only be accomplished by the involvement of one's whole being and energy. For a woman, this total personal dedication to serving the needs of another is the fulfillment of her essential role as mother. In the apostolate, it is a maternal love which inspires the sister to reach out with compassion to all who, like the child, need care and protection. She sees not only the poor, the sick, and the aged as represented by the child, but all those who are ill in mind and heart, those who are poor in the goods of the spirit. Her work of the fulfillment of professional duties is a form of spirit-ual motherhood. By this very fact, her mission in the Church is closely associated with an essential quality of the Church herself. It must be the vocation of the reli-gious woman to impart to others something of the uni-versal healing compassion of Christ, effecting a true nur-turing and growth of human life Godward. Prudence Directs Merciful Action The love-inspired insight of a mother detects the weak-ness of her child and knows instinctively what is the best thing to do. This connatural knowledge has its exact parallel in the act of mercy, the impulse to action in which there is a giving of one's whole self. Knowledge of the most effective action in a concrete case cannot be a matter of intellectual understanding alone when this knowledge is based on an intense concern for the welfare of the person for whom the action is being done. Judg-ment about such action must be governed by the habit of prudence. Thus the life of one engaged in works of mercy requires that prudence be the directive intellectual habit. This virtue is further perfected by that docility to the motion of the Holy Spirit which is called the gift of counsel.2e For this reason, St. Thomas states that the beatitude of mercy specially corresponds to the gift of counsel, the gift which directs the act of mercy.~7 The concrete circumstances of human misery are sub-ject to changing conditions; but the principles applied in the variety of instances do not themselves change. Mer-ciful action is always a means to bring about human hap-piness; the choice of a best means to achieve a goal is always the concern of prudence. The prudent person is equipped to know what should be done in the concrete so that his decision and effort are suited to the needs of Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.52, a.2. Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.52, a.4. the kingdom of God. Thus the prudential judgment nec-essary in the act of mercy must take into account both the needs of the recipient and the potentialities of the donor. Although spiritual alms are of more value objec-tively, it is sometimes a greater immediate need to relieve physical distress; "to a hungry man, food is more neces-sary than instruction in truth.''2s Since our humanness limits the amount of good we can do, St. Augustine coun-sels us to consider those who are nearer to us in time, place, or other accidental condition as the first recipients of our mercy.29 If the act of mercy is not merely hap-hazard, if it springs from the virtue of mercy, it must, then, be directed by prudence. Unity of the Virtues Related to Mercy Among the great variety of circumstances in which misery appears and within the myriad personalities who are called to a special dedication for responding to mod-ern needs, the stabilizing influence of a common spirit is to be found in the basic structure of virtues and habits within which this spirit is translated into action. The master-virtue of mercy has a characteristic pattern simple in its essentials yet comprising all the human powers in total personal engagement. First, because an act of mercy is concerned with con-crete human misery, the initial perception of the situa-tion will be a unified act including both sensory aware-ness of physical detail and intellectual understanding of the meaning-content incarnated in this detail: that is, its relevance to human happiness. Thus the merciful person will notice, will habitually listen and see, use imagination and memory to retain and supply impressions that help this awareness. She will use her estimative power under the control of reason to evaluate in each particular case a lack of what is befitting the dignity of man. She must be able to judge the social evils of the contemporary world with an adequate comprehension of what they imply for human living. Finally, she must be able to see herself as an instrument, a steward entrusted with a gift which is to be transmitted to others; this is her humility. In other words, all her human knowing powers are operative in the perception of what is relevant to unhappiness. Secondly, because an act of mercy is essentially an out-going response to a real situation, the merciful sister acts by the dynamic tendency of her appetitive powers. These will include a sensitivity to suffering that is called pity, a willingness to accept difficulties and to suffer for another that is called courage, and that benevolent love which in Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.32, a.3. St. Augustine, De Doctrina Christiana 1.28. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mercy VOLUME 22, 1963 293 Sister Mary Celeste, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 294 the supernatural order is called charity. Just as human nature is a body-spirit unity, and just as human knowl-edge is the perception of meaning in the material sign, so too there is a parallel in the appetitive order. The uni-fied act of sorrow for another's unhappiness, the interior act of mercy, is the spiritual love of charity incarnated and expressed in the feeling of compassion. Although supernatural in its cause, charity, mercy is thoroughly hu. man in its mode of operation. Thirdly, there is a kind of reflective moment of both knowledge and love in the act of mercy. Encountering someone in misery, a merciful person experiences a deeper level of awareness by reason of the dynamic orientation of pity and love. This is what St. Thomas calls a knowl-edge of connaturality. In the light of her love which unites her by sympathy to another, the. sister who is mer-ciful can perceive meaning in details which would pass unnoticed by a detached onlooker. This perception in turn strengthens the driving forces of sensitive pity and willed love, impelling her to judge prudently the action that is most effective and committing her to carry out this action courageously without regard to inconvenience or pain. In mercy, therefore, there is required a totality of personal dedication to serving one's neighbor in order that he may together with us come to beatific union with God. Finally, the charity-love by which we will this goal not only the source from which mercy flows forth but is the unifying principle of every virtue and subordinate habit related to mercy. The ultimate goal of man is beati-tude, union with God. It is this goal which mercy, by re-lieving unhappiness, aims to procure. The goals of other virtues and habits are only proximate and intermediate ones which can be subordinated to this primary human end. So charity, qualifying the will, permeates all activity under the influence of the will--all free actions, just as life permeates the whole living organism in all its parts. In a body, all the particular members and organs func-tion for the good of the whole; so in a life of charity, all particular activity is directed toward the supreme good of the whole which is man's union with God.~0 Every virtue and every habit of a merciful person are drawn into the powerful stream of this love. "If a man is merciful," writes St. Gregory of Nyss;,, "he is deemed worthy of divine beatitude, because he has at-tained to that which characterizes the divine nature. Thus is the merciful man called blessed, because the fruit of mercy becomes itself the possession of the merciful.''zx Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.23, a.8; De Caritate, a.3. ~lSt. Gregory o£ Nyssa, The Beatitudes, translated ~rorn PL Mercy is most properly a divine attribute, manifesting the power and goodness of God's redemptive love.82 As source of the exterior works of mercy done by human hands, this virtue likens us to God in similarity of works and is the highest perfection of the active life.s3 As an interior effect of divine charity,.in us, companion of joy and peace and zeal, it is the greatest Of virtues which re-late to our neighbor,a4 Its effectiveness will end only when there is no further human misery left to cry out for heal-ing. 44:1193-1302 by Hilda Graef, "Ancient Christian Writers Series" (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 139. ~ Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, aA. ~Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, aA ad 3. ~ Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.30, a.4 ad 3. VOLUME 22~ 1963 ALAN F. GREENWALD Psychological Assessment of Religious Aspirants 4. 4" Alan F. Green-wald is director of psychological serv-ices for the Seton Psychiatric Insti-tute, 6420 Reisters-town Road, Balti-more 15, Maryland. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Psychological testing has become increasingly more useful in the selection of suitable candidates for religious life and in the recognition of emotional illness among seminarians prior to ordination. A growing number of seminaries and religious communities are utilizing psy-chological services to assist superiors and seminary direc-tors in arriving at decisions about the psychological suit-ability of prospective candidates for the priesthood. In view of the desirability of a close working relationship between the psychologist and the clergy, it seems advan-tageous to review briefly the methods, strengths, and weaknesses of psychological assessment procedures as they apply to the screening of applicants for religious life. The two extremes--exceptionally well-qualified extremely poor prospects--may be identified easily within the seminary with or without benefit of formal psycho-logical testing. It is the seminarian who is making a mar-ginal adjustment--just "getting by" academically, with-drawn from others, quarrelsome, experiencing difficulties in attention, concentration, or ability to study, yet still able to conform to established minimum standards of conduct--whose symptoms are less flagrant and whose future is far less predictable. These divergent behavior patterns may represent only a transitory disturbance or they could be the forerunner of a more serious mental dis-order. In either case the psychological referral will help to clarify the situation. The psychological suitability of a candidate for the priesthood is not a black and white issue. Rarely, except perhaps in the extreme cases where a young man presents a remarkable array of talents or on the other hand dem-onstrates bizarre, pathological behavior, can a simpl~ de-termination of "suitable" or "unsuitable" be made. The human personality is too complex to permit such a casual oversimplification. Rather, it is necessary to evaluate a broad spectrum of behavior in order to identify con-vergent drives and patterns as well as divergent attitudes and reactions. The primary question usually asked of the psychologist by the seminary is, "What can :you tell us about the psychological suitability of this seminarian for the priesthood?" In response to this question;,the~psychol-ogist seeks to determine the personality assets as well as the nature and degree of any emotional disturbance which may exist. The psychologist learns early that there are no accepta-ble "canned" or cookbook interpretations of behavior, no universals in test analysis, and a notable lack of .un-equivocal prognostic signs today. No test is infallible, and as yet we have not developed the test which can predict with great accuracy how an individual will behave in complex situations. To use less than the most compre-hensive and sensitive instruments available for personal-ity assessment would be a disservice to all concerned. Con-sidering the present state of the art, there still remains honest disagreement as to what constitutes the most valid test battery. But most clinicians favor the projective tech-niques. Projective techniques provide subtle, indirect methods of personality assessment which permit the subject to re-veal his basic pattern of thinking, feeling, and behaving. Because these relatively unstructured tests are less subject to conscious and unconscious distortion and permit greater freedom of expression within a standardized framework, projective techniques such as the Rorschach Inkblot Test, Thematic Apperception Test, Draw a Per-son Test, and Sentence Completion Test are generally preferred to the paper and pencil personality question-naires, for example, the Minnesota Multiphasic Person-ality Inventory. However, Bier,1 Vaughan,2 and others have used the MMPI extensively and developed norms for use in screening seminarians. While it is true that paper and pencil questionnaires have the advantage of ease in administration and scoring and provide quantitative measures of personality charac-teristics, the additional behavioral information elicited by a projective test battery would seem to merit the in-creased expenditure, of professional time and effort. Many 1 W. C. Bier and A. A. Schneiders, eds., Selected Papers [rom the American Catholic Psychological dssociation Meetings of 1957, 1958, 1959 (New York: Fordham University, 1960). W. C. Bier, "Test-ing Procedures and Their Value," Proceedings o] the 1959 Sisters' Institute of Spirituality (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1960), pp. 263-95. W. C. Bier, Description o! Biers Modified MMP1 (Mimeographed; New York: Fordham University, no date). ~ R. P. Vaughan, "Specificity in Program of Psychological Exam-ination," Guild o[ Catholic Psychiatrists Bulletin, v. 8 (1961), pp. 149-55. 4. Psychological Assessment VOLUME 22, 1963 297 Alan l:. G~een~ald REVIEW FOR REL[G]OUS investigators prefer the neat quantitative personality pro-file which the MMPI yields, but too often we find in the behavioral sciences a tendency to follow our sister sciences in attempting to reduce subject matter to numbers and statistics. Behavior does not lend itself readily to this treatment. Even with projective techniques there are ob-jective signs which, unhappily, fail to describe adequately the person they represent. The goal of a psychological screening program is to provide an accurate, reliable pic-ture of the person and not to reduce him to a mass of in-teresting or perhaps not-so-interesting statistics. Many significant test results are qualitative rather than quantitative in nature. Through projective testing, we are able to detect an unwholesome or conflictual, motiva-tion for religious life as well as underlying problems which may interfere with the seminarian's future adjust-ment. Test evidence which relates to motivation, causa-tion, and purposefulness of behavior can prove invaluable in revealing potential difficulties which a seminarian may encounter in his pursuit of a religious vocation. A reli-gious aspirant who demonstrates human sensitivity, strong drive toward achievement, and a desire to serve mankind has significantly different and healthier motiva.- tion than another whose entry into the seminary provides a means of escape from a world perceived as cold, hostile, and threatening to him. Bowes,3 in evaluating nearly 7000 seminarians, has found these major problem areas in order of frequency: (1) purity, (2) interpersonal relationships, (3) scrupulos-ity, (4) mother fixation, (5) obsessive compulsive person-ality, (6) depression, and (7) affective disorders. Becat, se most of these problems do not exist at the level of con-scious awareness, they may go undetected until they g~:n-erate enough anxiety to produce feelings of personal dis-tress and interfere with the person's ,capacity for work and his ability to meet the demands of reality. Often psy-chological testing may detect the presence of abnormal drives or conflicting motives and permit the seminarian to work through the conflict with the assistance of his spiritual director prior to ordination. Psychiatric aid may be rendered when indicated. This coordination of reli-gious and professional services can lead ultimately to a lower incidence of mental illness among the clergy. The use of psychological test procedures with religious introduces the need for specialized handling and inter-pretation. In order for any test results to be meaningful, they must be correlated with the activities, values, and * N. T. Bowes, "Professional Evaluation of Aspirants to Religious Life," a paper delivered in a seminar conducted at St. Mary':~ Semi-nary; Roland Park; Baltimore, Maryland in April, 1962. demands imposed upon the individual by his way of life. One hardly expects to find the same mental mechanisms and hierarchy of needs and values existing in a group of combat marines and in a group of seminarians. Similarly, as Vaughan indicates, all religious cannot be stereotyped and regarded as one. Different orders and assignments within the Church make special demands--intellectual and/or emotional--upon their members, so that prereq-uisites for a Jesuit university professor may differ from those of a Trappist monk. One personality may be better suited for the active, another for the contemplative life. Thus, notwithstanding the elimination of persons with severe emotional illness from the seminary, one needs to understand the circumstances and particular environ-ment in which the candidate will function in order to offer the most intelligent clinical judgment of his over-all suitability. A clear need remains for the development of psychological test norms applicable to candidates for re-ligious life. The experienced clinical psychologist approaches his task with humility, recognizing both the strengths and limitations of his tools. It behooves those who utilize his services to develop a set of realistic expectations in order to derive the maximum benefit from the referral. A word of caution seems in order to avoid overreliance by superiors on test results without giving due weight to traditional methods of selecting religious candidates. The decision regarding a religious vocation should never be made on the basis of test findings alone. The psychologi-cal test should be regarded as a supplementary source of information rather than as a replacement for existing practices. Psychological tests are being applied more widely in the evaluation of religious aspirants. Although no tests are infallible, projective techniques have demonstrated their effectiveness in the study of personality and in de-termining within limits the psychological suitability of persons seeking a religious vocation. Early detection and disposition of seminarians making a marginal adjustment can help to avoid subsequent major disturbances. Psy-chological assessment can be a useful supplement to tra-ditional selection procedures, but there is a need for behavioral scientists to develop a more definitive psycho-logical concept of, as well as test norms for, those aspiring to religious life. ÷ ÷ ÷ Psychological Assessment VOLUME. 22# 1963 299 SISTER M. DIGNA, O.S.B. Uses of Information in a Screening Program ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Digna, O.S.B., is a faculty member of the Col-lege of St. Scholas-tica, Duluth 11, Minnesota. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 300 Psychologists, psychiatrists, and psychometricians, as well as others, subscribe to the assumption that objective information about a candidate's fitness for the priesthood or religious life may be assessed by valid and reliable in. struments in terms of intelligence, personality, and inter-ests. Following the principle that a good, valid test serves as a Geiger counter in detecting intellectual and person-ality assets and liabilities, the Sisters of St. Benedict have utilized test findings for over the past ten years. Having found that a correlation does exist between test data and subsequent religious adjustment, the policy has been initiated of administering the tests prior to admission. ~ln some cases, considerable time, effort, and expense have been saved by a wise use of this information. All favorable findings are referred to a Catholic psychiatrist for further consultation and confirmation. If there is doubt, the in-dividual is given an opportunity to "try religious life." The first type of assessment is that of the applicant's intelligence. Here intelligence is considered from a purely operational viewpoint. The empirical fact is that some people show higher abilities than others. Measurement is an attempt to objectify cognition (intelligence) by eval-uating sensory acuity, perception, memory, reaction-time, and reasoning. Originally the testing program included two scores of mental ability, one based upon the Ameri-can Council Psychological Examination and the other on the Otis Self-Administering Test. The reasons for select. ing these two tests were the availability of the ACE and the ease of administering and interpreting the Otis. Completion of high school has been a basic require-ment for admission into the community. All the sisters at one time or another matriculate at the local college. Since the ACE scores are recorded in the registrar's office, they are accessible for use. However, the ACE scores are not too meaningful in determining the kind of intelligence the individual possesses. For this reason candidates were ranked percentage-wise among all other high school sen-iors or college freshmen tested and placed in the top fourth, lower fourth, and so on. Furthermore, the ACE is highly weighted with verbal factors so that the picture is not too complete. Then too, novice and candidate mis-tresses found difficulty in interpreting 224/81 or still more confusing 127/13. The Otis intelligence quotient was, therefore, a more satisfactory measurement. During the last five years the California Short Form Test of Mental Maturity has been used. This test yields information on total mental factors, language factors, non-language factors, spatial relationships, logical reason-ing, numerical reasoning, verbal concepts, average grade placement, mental age, and intelligence quotient. The following examples illustrate the use of the Cali-fornia Short Form Test of Mental Maturity. Applicant A was a young woman who applied at several communities. Because her educational background was limited to the eighth grade of a small country school, she was rejected. At the time she made contact with the local community, she was working as a domestic in a private home and had taken her vacation to make the lay women's retreat. She was advised to reapply and took the tests with other ap-plicants. The summary data scores indicated that the young woman had intelligence quotient scores in terms of total mental factors of 138, language factors of 141, and non-language factors of 129. Her intelligence grade place-ment was at the 90th percentile for total mental factors and language factors, and at the 60th for non-language factors using the norms for college graduates. The per-centile ranks at her chronological age (C.A.) were 80 for spatial relations, 99 for logical reasoning, 95 for numeri-cal reasoning, 99 for total verbal concepts, and 95 for non-language factors. The young woman was accepted. In one year as a postulant she easily completed two years of a collegiate preparatory program. At the end of her novi-tiate she completed two more years of high school and did very well in college. Her average was A minus or B plus. She is gentle, refined, humble, and modest, but above all deeply spiritual. Surely it is a courtesy to God to recog-nize and utilize His gifts to such a girl. The results of the California Test of Mental Maturity were important factors in the rejection of two applicants, B and C. The intelligence quotients obtained by appli-cant B were 86 for mental factors, 106 for language fac-tors, and 66 for non-language factors. Applicant C's in-telligence quotient, measured in terms of these three factors, were 82 for mental factors, 97 for language fac-÷ ÷ ÷ Screening Program VOLUME 22, 1963 $1~t~ M. Digna REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 302 tors, and 64 for non-language factors. Although the pre-diction of subsequent adjustment in religious life was not too promising on the basis of these scores, the applicants were not rejected merely on this basis. These scores led to a more thorough investigation of their backgrounds. As a result, the mother prioress felt that the applicants were not intellectually equipped to meet the demands of a community that stressed teaching and nursing as an ex-pression of its apostolate. Although information regarding intelligence is very important, the submerged four-fifths of one's personality is just as important as a predictive factor in adjustment to religious life. Originally, the Minnesota Personality Scale was used to discover problems with which the indi-vidual was confronted. This scale was helpful in deter-mining poor social adjustment, family conflicts, and emo-tional problems. Although the scale was structured, the evaluation results merely scratched the surface of the in-dividual's personality. According to Furst and Fricke (1956) a structured test is nonprojective in the sense that users can agree completely on the individual's score; they are projective in the sense that individuals can project personal meanings into the stimuli. Although very losv scores on the Minnesota Personality Scale were clues to more deep-seated troubles, most of the findings were of the obvious type. The Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI) has proved a better instrument since the items, the interrelationships, and the scales all afford information stemming from feelings and emotions. I*: is often possible through careful item analyses to determine the root of emotional experience and to discover hidden attitudes and traits. Supplementing the use of the MMPI, Modified Form, are life histories, ratings from direct ob-servation, and introspective reporting. Because of the MMPI, the psychologist secures a deeper understanding of the individual's problems. The items are structured, and the interpretation from them is deter-mined a priori. For example, if the psychologist or psy-chiatrist wishes to discover whether a person has phobias, he asks questions relating to the individual's fear of snakes, crowds, high places, and so forth. One criterion of phobias is a morbid, exaggerated, pathological fear of some object or situation. The basic assumption is that an individual who has many fears will answer questions per-taining to objects and situations of which the individual is afraid, and he will admit these fears. The test items of the MMPI have to be assembled into scales based upon the principle that the psychologist building the test has sufficient insights into the dynamics of verbal behavior and its relation to the inner core or personality that he is able to predict beforehand what certain sorts of people will say about themselves when asked certain types of questions. Structured personality tests may be employed in a purely diagnostic, categorizing fashion without the use of any dynamic interpretation of the relationship among scales or the patterning of a pro-file. The discrete scores on.': the' Minnesota Personality Scale are an example. The MMPI makes possible more "depth" interpreta-tion. On the basis of the MMPI and other information, some applicants have been rejected. As a typical example, the profile for applicant D demonstrates the use of the results of a personality inventory as a clue to possible poor adjustment to religious life. Although her intelligence quotient scores were average, applicant D presented a poor personality profile. She had two high triads (pairs of threes) above the normal range (30 to 70). Six of the nine scales for this profile ranged from T-scores of~71 to 108. The F score was high. According to Welsh and Dahl-strom (1956), high F scores tend to invalidate the sub-ject's responses. A schizoid may obtain a high F score owing to delusional or other aberrant mental state. The high score for the other scales represented such areas as hypochrondriasis, hysteria, psychopathic deviate, para-noia, schizophrenia, and hypomania. This young woman was not admitted but was counseled to see a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist to whom she was referred discovered that the applicant had previously been institutionalized. A recent follow-up revealed that she had returned to a mental institution. Applicant E was screened out because of her emotional pattern. This young girl was sixteen years old. Her in-telligence was average but her personality picture was not good. The young woman entered, was tested, and the test material with the following comments was filed in the mother prioress' office: This individual has high scores on the psychopathic deviate, masculinity, and psychasthenia scales. If she shows the follow-ing tendencies or traits it would be very wise to refer her to a psychiatrist: inability to profit from a mistake, attention-getting devices, concentrating on a younger girl in an objectionable manner, having so-called "crushes" on an older woman; any compulsive behavior like hand washing, phobias, fears, and anxieties, depression, worry, lack of confidence, and inability to concentrate. When the young woman began to manifest undesirable traits, her testing material was referred to for counseling purposes. Despite counseling, she fortunately left the community, but unfortunately has not sought psychiatric help. T-he care needed in interpreting test scores may be em-phasized by the responses of applicant F. This young ÷ ÷ ÷ Screening Program VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ .÷ Sister M. Digna REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 304 women's profile was unreliable. Unknown to us, the ap-plicant had previously been in two communities. In tak-ing the test, with her high intelligence, test-wiseness, and general sophistication, she presented a pattern falling within the normal range. Fifteen items of the MMPI are designated subtle items because their psychological sig-nificance would not normally be detected by individuals taking the test. Applicant F was able to discern the im-plications of test items and answer them to put herself in a favorable light. This young woman had an opportunity to "try religious life." She received counseling before en-trance, after entrance, and for two years after leaving until she settled down to complete her third year of col-lege, receiving A's in courses she liked, F's and D's in those she didn't. She does not accept God's will in her rejection. Recently, the writer received a letter from a state institution where the young woman has been for the last several years. Applicant G has average intelligence, a fairly well de-fined primary interest pattern, but an unsatisfactory per-sonality pattern on the MMPI. This applicant was tested after entrance and advised to leave. In all cases of dis-missal, the applicants have an opportunity to see a Catho-lic psychiatrist. Through a knowledge of their fields of vocational interest and job placement services, these young women often make a better adjustment as a result of their brief experience in religion. It might be inferred from these data that applicants to religious life have low intelligence or are emotionally disturbed. However, concomitant with the screening out of these "atypical" cases, eighty-one applicants were rld-mitted into the community. In most cases these candi-dates were young women who desired to serve God aad whose intellectual and emotional patterns were not de-terrent factors. Of the eighty-one, six wavered and left. Four of the six have been re-admitted and are making ex-cellent adjustments. Having seen her strengths and weak-nesses, the candidate herself often feels reassured that she can give herself to God if she is generous enough to make the sacrifice and to depend upon His divine grace to assist her. Illustrative of a good profile is that of applicant H. The California Test of Mental Maturity, interpreted in terms of intelligence quotients and grade placement, are at; fol-lows: for mental factors, the intelligence quotient is 118, grade placement, 15.6; language factors, 131, grade place-ment, 70th percentile of students graduating from col-lege; and non-language factors, 105, grade placement, 12.5. Her MMPI falls within the normal range, and her Strong Interest Blank reveals a well-defined interest pat-tern. Her primary occupational interests are in elemen- tary teaching and office work, and her tertiary interests in business education and home economics. It might be wise to say a few words about the use of the Strong Vocational Interest Blank. There rare two forms, one for men and ond for wbmen. The test has been useful in helping the community identify.strong positive and negative interest patterns. About ninety per cent of the reli