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The identification of health problems in the community and the implementation of intervention strategies usually collides with the difficulty of presenting clear, reliable data and mainly useful and intuitive to political decision makers, and it is in this sense that the geographical information systems (GIS) can be of great utility. The technology of the georeference is already accepted as anessential tool for the effective use of the information. Also keeping in mind that in any organization that provides health services the information about use (and costs) of them as well as the characteristics of the user population should be articulated with the organizational development of information systems, using the so called epidemiological reasoning onto the administration of health services, it seemed to us of the most importance to make a critical analysis of the use of services and its patternsalong a five year period on a reference population. So we carried out an analytic observacional study, with a retrospective design, on a five-year period and over a captive population of 5700 people belonging to a health care provider of good socioeconomic level of the City of Buenos Aires, to define the consumption patterns and service usage among them, and to quantify and qualify their demand and variation along time, being also carried out a georeferencial analysis. The usagerates were stratified for diverse usual services as medical consultations, radiology, laboratory analysis, ecography tests and high diagnostic and therapeutic complexity tests, and hospitalizations, accordingto the reference habitat of the people (City of Bs. As., boundaries of the city (the so called Great BA), province of Bs. As. and three main cities: La Plata, Mar del Plata and Bahía Blanca), age group (younger or older than 60 years like first grouping criterion and age categories (10 years) as second grouping criterion, and sex. Accessorily we sub grouped in the Great BA according to one of 3 regions (South, North and Center West) and in the City of Bs. As. according to neighborhood or censal fraction. For each one of the variables we proceeded to the georeferencial plotting using the soft SPSS for stratified and multivariate analysis and the MAP INFO for SIG analysis. We present and comment here the most notorious results of our work, but it admits several other interpretations trata, which are not approached entirely in this occasion and will be object of other communications. Among the outstanding results of our work we mention the significant relationship among age group and sex, and use of services, being evident that those impact positively in the use (p <0.05) being always greater among females than among males (p<0.001) (except in the first year of lifewhen the relationship is inverse) and increasing progressively as the age decade increases, for anyone of the considered services. This fact is not really a new one and it has already been commented by several authors that observed that good part of health expenses is used in giving careto a small number of people, being the variables that more gravitates the age, the illness type, typically the chronic ones and the death. In this sense, our population presents a clear aging process. Linkage constants were generated among key services and the rest. For instance, medical consultations is used thoroughly between 75% and 85% according to the belonging area but if weorder the consumptions for age group and area in a continuum from maximum to minimum we see that the service is used as little as 53% in the males in general or in the males of the province between 21 and 30 years, or as much as 91% in the males or women of the city or the women of Great BA starting from 70 years. The rate average of medical consultations of the population is of 5.4 for user / year but it varies thoroughly among 1.83 for the males of the interior between the 21 and 30 years (p <0.01) and 13.64 (p <0.001) for the women of the city between the 81 and 90 years. The other key service, the hospitalization, was also clearly associated to age, sex and geographical region. This association was clear for the usage ratio, like for the ALOS, and also the expenditure for hospitalization event, per day and for patient/year, in general and for the discrimination made in clinical and surgical hospitalizations. The rates increased according to the decade in both sexs, being greater for the women up to the 5th. or 6th. decade, when the relationshipis inverted. Again, the combination of factors like sex, age decade and residence area conformed a more sensitive polynomial function to detect "risk" of hospitalization that any variable considered alone. Both the rates, ALOS and expenditures for event and for case were minimum among males of the first two decades with residence inside the province of Bs.As. (except in great cities) and were maximum among old women in the city of BA. Indeed, the cost for patient/year varied 2.28 times between masculine interior and feminine city of BA (p <0.01) and the expenditure for hospitalization 1.85 times among these same groups (p <0.05). A certain tendency was also evidenced to the increase in the use rate (although without reaching significance levels) inside a defined influence area of a preferential care giver in the City of Bs. Ace., which would indicate that patients living in the boundaries of this center would use it more than others, being this consistent with what the literature remarks in this sense and lighting fundamental questions on equity, accessibility and geographical distribution of facilities among health care providers that cover wide areas. In this sense it was very clear the almost absolute use of an obstetric center of great fame of this city that captates almost all births in the city of Bs. As. and great part of those from the Great BA, indicating the preference of women and illustrating the central rol that women exercises, as muchas "triagge" in the search of attention like wedge of insertion of the family in the health system. The distribution and characteristic of the beneficiaries and their grade of use of services can represent in operative and practical senses pieces of information of great value when planning the logistics of local resources, like the implementation of family doctors' programs with population in charge, or the selection of a net system with preferential providers. We think that this is a field and investigation area in frank promising expansion. ; La identificación de problemas de salud en la comunidad y la implementación y monitoreo de estrategias de intervención suelen chocar con la dificultad de presentar datos claros, fiables y sobre todo fácilmente aprehensibles por los tomadores políticos de decisiones, y es en este sentido que los sistemas de información geográfica pueden ser de gran utilidad. La tecnología de la georeferencia ya es aceptada como una herramienta esencial para el uso efectivo de la información. Teniendo en cuenta además que en cualquier entidad que medie y/o provea servicios de salud la información relativa al uso (y costos) de los mismos, así como las características de los usuarios debería articularse con la incorporación y desarrollo organizacional de sistemas de información, empleando el raciocinio epidemiológico a la administración de servicios de salud. Nos pareció sustantivo efectuar un análisis critico del uso de servicios y sus patrones a lo largo del tiempo sobre una población de referencia. Se encaró un trabajo observacional - analítico, retrospectivo, sobre un período quinquenal y una población cautiva de 57000 personas de una cobertura de salud de buen nivel socio económico de la Ciudad de Bs. As., para definir el patrón de consumo de servicios entre ellos y cuantificar y cualificar su demanda y variación a lo largo del tiempo, realizándose además análisis georeferencial de la misma. Se estratificaron las tasas de uso para diversos servicios usuales como consultas, radiología, análisis de laboratorio, ecografías y alta complejidad diagnóstica y terapéutica, e internación, según hábitat de residencia del beneficiario (Ciudad deBs. As., GBA, interior de la Pcia. Bs. As. y tres ciudades principales: La Plata, Mar del Plata y Bahía Blanca), grupo de edad (mayor o menor de 60 años como primer criterio de agrupación y franjas etáreas de a 10 años como segundo criterio) y sexo. Accesoriamente se subagruparon en el GBA según una de 3 regiones (Sur, Norte y Centro Oeste) y en la Ciudad de Bs. As. según barrio o fracción censal. Para cada una de las variables se procedió al ploteo georeferencial de la misma usando como herramental informático el soft SPSS para análisis estratificado y multivariado y el MAP INFO para análisis SIG. En el presente trabajo se presentan los resultados más notorios de un análisis que admite varios estratos de lectura, los cuales no se abordan íntegramente en esta ocasión y serán objeto de otras comunicaciones. Entre los hallazgos destacados mencionamos las relaciones significativas entre grupo de edad y sexo, y uso de servicios, siendo evidente que aquéllos inciden positivamente en la utilización (p<0.05) siendo siempre mayor entre mujeres que entre varones (p<0.001) (salvo en el primer año de vida en que la relación se invierte) y aumentando progresivamente a medida que aumenta el decenio de edad, para cualquiera de los servicios considerados. Este hecho no es en sí novedoso y ya ha sido comentado por varios autores, que comprobaron que buena parte del gasto sanitario es empleado en atender a un pequeño número de personas, siendo las variables que más gravitan la edad, el tipo de enfermedad, típicamente las crónicas y la muerte. En este sentido, nuestra población presenta un claro proceso de ancianización. Se generaron constantes vinculantes entre servicios princeps (consultas y egresos) y el resto. Así, por ejemplo, el servicio consulta es utilizado ampliamente por entre un 75% y un 85% de la población de acuerdo a la zona considerada pero ordenando los consumos por grupo etáreo y zona en un contínuo de mayor a menor vemos que el servicio es usado tan poco como un 53% en los varones en general o del interior entre los 21 y 30 años, o tanto como un 91% en los varones omujeres de CF o las mujeres de GBA a partir de los 70 años. La tasa promedio de consultas (porafiliado de padrón) de la población es de 5,4 por beneficiario/año pero varia ampliamente entre 1,83 para los varones del interior entre los 21 y 30 años (p<0.01) y 13,64 (p<0.001) para las mujeres de CF entre los 81 y 90 años). El otro servicio princeps de atención de la salud, la internación, también se mostró claramente asociado a edad, sexo y región geográfica considerada. Esta asociación se dio tanto para las tasas de internación en sí, como para los ALOS, el montoerogado por internación, por día y por paciente/año, en general y para la discriminación efectuada en internaciones clínicas y quirúrgicas. Las tasas aumentaron de acuerdo al decenio en ambos sexos, siendo mayor para las mujeres hasta el 5to. o 6to. decenio, en que la relación se invierte. Nuevamente, la combinación de factores como sexo, decenio de edad y zona de residencia conformaron una suerte de función polinómica más sensible para detectar "riesgo" de internación que cualquier variable considerada aisladamente. Tanto las tasas, los ALOS y los importes por evento y por caso fueron mínimos entre varones de los dos primeros decenios con residencia en el interior de la provincia de Bs.As. (salvo ciudades importantes) y fueron máximos entre mujeres añosas en la CABA. En efecto, el costo por beneficiario/año varió 2.28 veces entre interior masculino y CABA femenino (p<0.01) y el costo por internación 1.85 veces entre estos mismo grupos (p<0.05). Se evidenció una cierta tendencia además al aumento en la tasa de utilización (si bien sin alcanzar niveles de significación) dentro de un determinado radio de influencia de un prestador preferencial en la Ciudad de Bs. As., lo cual indicaría de confirmarse que efectivamente los pacientes que vivenen las inmediaciones del centro lo utilizan más que sus contrapartes más alejados, lo cual sería coherente con lo que marca la literatura en este sentido y pone sobre la liza interesantes cuestiones fundamentales sobre equidad, accesibilidad y distribución geográfica de los prestadores en coberturas de salud que tienen oferta en zonas muy amplias. En este sentido fue muy clara la utilización casi absoluta de un centro obstétrico de renombre de esta CABA que capitaliza prácticamente la totalidad de nacimientos en la propia Ciudad de Bs. As. y gran parte del GBA, indicando la preferencia de las gestantes hacia él e ilustrando el papel central que ejerce la mujer, tanto como "triagge" en la búsqueda de atención como cuña de inserción de la familia en el sistema de salud.La distribución y características de los beneficiarios y su grado de utilización de servicios pueden representar en lo operativo y práctico del día a día piezas de información de gran valor a la hora de planificar la logística de recursos locales, como por ejemplo la implementación de programas de médicos de familia con población a cargo, o la selección de un sistema de redes con prestadores preferenciales, o incluso la contratación de una amplia variedad de servicios capitados. Creemos que se trata ésta de un área de investigación en franca expansión prometedora.

This study is based on the twin exigencies of introducing the concept of abstract author into the scheme of narrative construction, and distinguishing sharply between this object of analysis and the concepts of concrete author and narrator. In accordance with the definition advanced by Wolf Schmid, whose vision on the issues of narrative instances appears most judicious, the abstract author ('der abstrakte Autor') can be defined as 'the principle that, in a work, determines the articulatory layer, the semantic layer, and the layer of the objectivity deployed, as well as the aesthetic organisation and the hierarchy of these layers in the total structure in one specific way' ('dasjenige Prinzip, das in einem Werk die sprachlautliche Schicht, die Bedeutungsschicht und die Schicht der dargestellten Gegenständlichkeiten sowie die ästhetische Organisation und Hierarchie dieser Schichten in der Gesamtstruktur so und nicht anders beschaffen sein lässt', Schmid 1973. S.24). More succinctly and generally, the abstract author (henceforth: AA) is the principle according to which the meaning of a literary work is constructed. If we wish to switch from phenomenological to structuralist terminology, we can define the AA as the construction principle of the paradigmatic elements of the work. Thus the AA is fundamentally distinguished from both the concrete author and from the narrator in whose name (voice) the story is being told – itself a creation of the AA. This means that the latter is not directly represented in the text, in view of the fact that it is a reconstructed virtual construction. Naturally, this aspect of the AA considerably complicates a study devoted to the reconstruction of various types of AAs as regards concrete literary texts (in our case, great Russian prose forms from the 1920s and 1930s) in view of the fact that it cannot be based on the principle of the reconstruction according to which the AA must be reconstructed. Taking into account that a) no single reconstruction principle could ever be exhaustively explained, and b) various interpretations of facts and motives are possible even within a single analytical doctrine, the final result of this kind of reconstruction will unavoidably contain fairly controversial or debatable aspects. In principle, a certain objectivity could be achieved by blending a large number of different analytical strategies in order to arrive at a reconstruction of the AA, but in view of the fact that this kind of undertaking is not able to be carried out within the framework of a dissertation project, one is obliged to accept a priori a certain sketchiness in the results obtained. As regards methodology, we considered it better to base our undertaking on a structuralistic approach. This does not mean, however, that we regard structuralism as a methodological panacea. Our choice was ultimately determined by the fact that the conclusions reached on the basis of structuralistic analysis are highly illustrative, in the sense that the mechanism of deduction can be represented in the form of logically unambiguous causality. At points where the conclusions of the structuralistic approach appeared to us to be incomplete representations of a work's meaning, we resorted to other approaches. In order to analyse texts from the period in question (the 1920s and 1930s) we applied an analysis model first presented by B. A. Uspensky, and subsequently elaborated by W. Schmid, albeit it with a few specifications, which will be discussed shortly. The Uspensky-Schmid model is based on the division and analysis of the narrative into five levels: spatial, temporal, phraseological, psychological and ideological. It is a rather economic and practical scheme which provides a thorough analysis. Our refinement refers only to the last, ideological, level. We recognize J. Lintvelt's view (Lintvelt 1981) which does not see this as a separate layer, basing his argument on its intertwining with other levels. However, W. Schmid insisted on its retention, indicating that it could also manifest itself independently of the other levels, namely, as a direct, explicit evaluation. In this case the ideological level is then a facultative phenomenon only functional in the narrative scheme of the text when there are explicit ideological utterances. We propose using an old definition of ideology set down by A. J. Greimas and J. Courtés, who, in Sémiotique. Dictionnaire raisonné de la théorie du langue (1979), define ideology as the syntagmatic aspect of the taxonomic concept of axiology. The acceptance of this definition brings with it a number of important consequences: 1) In view of the fact that the narrative text, a product of subjective consciousness, inevitably consists of axiologically meaningful relationships, the axiological level is an immanent element of every narrative text, independent of explicitly manifested ideological rhetoric. 2a) Regardless of its intertwining with the syntagmatics of other narrative levels, there is still the possibility of a paradigmatic reconstruction of the ideology, based on the axiomatics of these narrative levels. 2b) If the analysis of the other four levels is correctly executed, the ideology component will inevitably be the most concise, since it merely summarises all the conclusions that are drawn from analyses of the other levels and brings them into the required equilibrium. After all, to formulate it slightly differently, analysis means the exposure of the axiologically meaningful relationships that have been imposed on the text by the abstract author. Additionally, the mutual hierarchy of the narrative instances must be further determined, a specification one must consistently take into account as one reconstructs the AA. The point at issue here is the more detailed determination of the hierarchical dispositions of instances of abstract author and abstract reader due to Bely's death? Should Moscow be supplemented by the novel Petersburg by the same author because it is apparently symmetrical to Moscow? In that case, should we not also expand the notion of the analysed text to include the novel The silver dove, the first part of an unwritten trilogy of which the novel Petersburg is the second part, etc.? Such questions are allied to the concept of text itself and can arise in infinite shapes and quantities; it is clear that the AA's structure depends on how we respond to them. In our opinion the answers to such questions fall within the competency of the abstract reader who is, par excellence, sensitive to the literary work's nuances in meaning. For this reason we suggest representing the relationship between the abstract author and the abstract reader as an opposition between the principle to be reconstructed and the reconstructing principle, which presupposes a corresponding hierarchical disposition between both. Furthermore, more precision is needed with respect to the analytical methods used in this study. Taking into account the fact that, ideally, the perfectly accurate researcher should concur with the abstract reader, as outlined above, it is useful to call to mind the following aspects: a) the infinitely great competency of the abstract reader with regard to all intertextual connections of a given work and with regard to all meaningful connections, in all their variations, of the work with the extra-literary world – from social-political realia to the psychic circumstances of the concrete author. b) the infinite analytical flexibility of the abstract reader who uses the greatest possible quantity of analytical methods in his interpretative strategy, aiming at the most complete reconstruction of the AA. In view of the fact that, within the framework of a rather restricted study, it is not possible to present a more or less complete description of the AA of even a single work by means of the methodology of even a single analytical approach, it is advisable to limit the analysis to a single feature, albeit one that is shared by the majority of the chosen texts. This means we have mainly confined our efforts to the particular construction which governed the generation of the selected individual texts and which we could provisionally indicate as the abstract meta-author. We believe that the principle of negative anthropology, which – at least regarding Russian literature – was new in the first third of the twentieth century and which contains the denial or explicit 'denigration' of all manifestations of the specifically human, constitutes this kind of integral concept. We must emphasis that this concept – at least in its basic features – is not a twentieth-century invention. However, it does form a sharp contrast with literature of the nineteenth century imbued with humanism. For the analysis of this attitude, large-scale works of prose (novels, short stories) were chosen as the most representative for the 1920s and 1930s. The basis of the selection was the pursuit of maximum diversity with regard to ideology (in the narrowest sense of the word), genre and stylistics, and pragmatics. Taking their fundamental principles into account, the texts were chosen from the following literary movements or paradigms: (post)symbolism (Bely, Moscow), skaz (Klyèkov, Èertuxinskij balakir'), (post)modernism (Nabokov, The Gift), socialist realism (Gaidar, The Tale of the Military Secret). During the course of the analysis it became clear that the following two fundamental constructive principles that nourish the concept of negative anthropology could be identified in the above-mentioned texts. The essence of the matter is that W. Booth (Booth 1961) recognised the usefulness of designing a system of narrative hierarchy within communicative interaction. He defined a receptive side for each of the positions: in his scheme, the concrete author (Flesh-and-Blood Author) was correlated to the concrete reader (Fleshand- Blood Re-Creator), the narrator (or, in his terminology, Teller of This Story) was correlated to the fictive reader (Credulous Listener), and, finally, the abstract author (Implied Author) was correlated to the Postulated Reader, or the 'abstract reader', as Wolf Schmid would refer to him later. In Schmid's view, the abstract reader is the 'ideal recipient of the author', a definition with which we entirely agree. In our opinion, however, this does not apply to the phylogenetic constituent of this concept as Schmid tends to present it. In his view, the picture of the abstract reader seems to be determined in advance by the corresponding structural configurations of the work; in other words, it is a more or less passive communicative duplication of the AA. However, further examination indicates that in the reasoning in question the objectivity of the semantic configurations in the text is implicitly postulated; in other words, there is a presumption that the full (all-embracing) meaning of the work is not only given a priori but is also materially present in the text components themselves. In reality, however, the full meaning (and here we concur with W. Iser) is realised by the reader who fills in, as it were, the gaps in meaning intentionally or unintentionally embedded in the work by the author. In theory, there are an infinitely large number of such gaps and, correspondingly, every time a reader fills in a different number or group of gaps one can speak of a different structure of the total meaning of the work. Only God is capable of filling in all the gaps, making Him the most ideal recipient to figure in all models of narrative instances according to the communicative model. Nonetheless, we must also take into consideration the possibly less obvious fact that the text whose meaning is to be reconstructed in the analysis is not a protoplasmic entity but the product of certain conventions or analytic procedures. Both the conventions and the analytic procedures applied to the text belong to the competencies of the abstract reader. We shall explain this in more detail below. When dealing with, for example, Pushkin's novel Yevgeny Onegin, it is clear that the text itself provides no answer to the question whether this work has been completed. Our decision to regard this work as finished or unfinished affects its significance and, correspondingly, the picture of the AA. In our opinion, the instance of the abstract reader is responsible for the decision concerning the boundaries of the text; in other words, the decision to limit interpretative activity to eight chapters, or ten, or to state, as a matter of principle, that the work has only one boundary – a beginning. In each of these cases, the complete meaning of the work will have a different structure. The same argument can be applied with regard to varying editions of one and the same work. Consider the case of collected stories. How can one correctly determine this text's boundaries? Should we reconstruct each story's AA, so that something like a portrait gallery is created, or is it more sensible to regard a collection of stories as a single text and to reconstruct an integral AA on the basis of all the stories? Or, as in the case of the novel Moscow by Andrei Bely analysed in this dissertation: is it valid to regard the three sections of this work as separate texts – after all, they were published as separate books at different times, and the stylistic variations are evident? Is it valid to speak about an AA as a self-contained concept in view of the fact that the novel actually remained unfinished 1. Space destabilisation In view of the fact that it is only through history that man realises himself as an intrinsic integrity, he is most easily marginalised in the most unequivocal, i.e., most effective, way in a universe in which history in the usual sense of the term is seriously problematised by spatio-temporal ambivalence. The spatio-temporal continuum evaporates in this set-up, which may manifest itself in various ways but essentially involves the same mechanism. In some texts, normally seen as belonging to the modernistic paradigms (in our case, Moscow, Èertuxinskij balakir', The Gift), a destabilisation of the normal world view has occurred and this is more or less evident to the reader: the attributes of a certain point in space can easily belong to a different point, just as the attributes of a certain object can turn out to be the attributes of a different object. One spatial area can be projected upon a different spatial area, and, in such cases, the boundaries between the areas become so transparent that distinction between them is no longer possible. All objects and points in this kind of space enter, as it were, into relationships of mutual equivalence, or if we regard it in semiotic terms, all objects enter into relationships of crosswise reference without having an unambiguously phraseable singular denotation. Another way to destabilise space, however paradoxical it may sound, is by structuring space by means of mythopoetic patterns. We believe that mythopoetic structures occur in every narrative text, which seems largely self-evident. In view of the fact that in narrative texts we deal with subjectivity pur sang, it is perfectly logical that this subjectivity will lend varying axiological colour to the different segments of space. In conjunction with our cognitive schemes, i.e., the structure of our brains, this colour is generated according to the principle of binary opposition. In this way each narrative space has an axiological marking on the basis of duality (high-low, here-there, citycountry, etc.), for which in historical terms the priority lies with the myth as the first (spontaneous) project in human history to be given structure. The issue is merely one concerning the extent to which this mythopoetic – or as one may prefer, quasimythopoetic – scheme becomes manifest, and even the rather confined analysis we have performed demonstrates that this is largely the situation in Russian prose of the 1920s and 1930s. It is understandable that in both cases space destabilisation results in the elimination of the human subject. In the former case, when space is characterised by a high degree of relativity, man adopts in a metonymic way space's capacity to undergo all kinds of metamorphoses whose degree of radicalness can vary: from the possibility of metempsychosis, as in the case of the reincarnated protagonists in Nabokov's The Gift, to the division of protagonists in a synchronous system of look-alikes, of which each one has a role in the distinction of meaning and which only begin to acquire consolidated meaning when they have been conceptually united (cf. the Korobkin brothers, Mandro – Dromarden, Lizaša – Leonora, and Kierko – Titelev in Moscow; Ul'jana – Maria in Èertuxinskij balakir'; the whole herd of doubles in The Gift). In the latter case, when space has been structured according to the myth, for a number of reasons man is also eliminated: a) man, as we know him, necessarily realises himself in history (only God realises himself in infinity), whereas myth knows no linearity and therefore no history. Thus only a certain notion of man or a model of subjectivity can possibly realise itself in myth, but not man as such b) the concept of realisation itself (of man or of other objects that occupy mythical space) is weakened here by virtue of the fact that determinism rules in myth – a genuine paradigmatic formation – which substantially weakens the independence and the responsibility of the protagonists somehow engaged in realising themselves c) which also directly combines points a) and b): myth, which does not recognise the singularity of here and now, does not accommodate the aspect of subjectivity, which is a constitutive element of man (and without this relationship, there can be no subjectivity). 2. Theatricalisation of narrative space An important factor in the construction of the great narrative forms of this period is the theatricalisation of space: in some cases the accent is placed on an analogous segmentation of space (Gaidar) when, for example, the entire adventurous part of the narrative is linked to a concrete topos, while the lyrical part, as a whole, is connected to another area, etc.; in other words, the narrative space, just as in theatre space, is divided into semiologically clearly delineated segments. In other cases the theatricalisation can be achieved by assigning purely dramatic characteristics to the protagonists. In this latter case there is a strikingly varied list of procedures that can be applied to create a 'theatrical text' in which the majority of the protagonists, or even all of them, are assigned a role. The most prominent technique is the construction of a character on the basis of a marionette or automatic dummy (Bely) with the corresponding imitation of its expressiveness and speech which become isomorphous with the discrete, emphatically affected expressiveness of a doll, where the character disintegrates into disassociated sememes and is only held together by the context. In such cases, to emphasise the artificiality a complicated, deviating syntax and an extremely extensive vocabulary of occasionalisms is employed. A less conspicuous strategy (as in Gaidar and also in many social-realist authors of the 1920s and 1930s) consists of a return to the constructive configurations of pre-realistic theatre in which the only possible actors are masks or, to use a more recent term, types, whose dynamics are determined entirely by fable and not by any intrinsic structure or stratification of character. Each of them has an ontologically determined role (of course, this concerns only the ontology of that specific space) and the mode of existence here is such that there are no a priori opportunities to switch roles; this space simply does not enable this kind of transformation. A strictly natural effect of this type of situation is the extremely normative behaviour of the characters in both their actions and their verbal expressions. Another method of desecrating narrative space is rooted in the symbolistic paradigm (or to be more precise, in the paradigm of early Russian symbolism) which is typified by the representation of this world as a close-knit semiotic universe whose characters refer to a supratextual substance that governs this world. A consequence of this worldview is the acceptance of fairly strict definitions of determinism and its unavoidable companion destiny. The concept of destiny assumes a certain marked role for each of the characters; after all, a complete behavioural paradigm (as regards destiny) can be created for a (marked) role, whereas this is impossible for the vital realisation of a person in his existence: in this latter case only the syntagmatic logical coherence can be determined, and that coherence is incomplete by definition. The narrative in The Gift (as in several other of Nabokov's novels) is constructed in this way, i.e., in functional-behavioural terms of destiny. This is also the case in Èertuxinskij balakir' by Klyèkov, in which the centre of the narrative is occupied by a kind of minus type: a character that not only lacks psychology (in as much as this kind of reduction is possible for humans), but also every manifestation of his own will which could testify to even an illusory independence from the functional universe. We must consider that a person's dramatic accessories (e.g., a person on stage) are essentially emancipated from existence and as a result revealingly attest to the nature of the processes that eliminate humans from the prose of the era. The observation of AA structures in 1920s and 1930s Russian prose thus offers the opportunity to bring to light a collection of these texts' implicit features, which manifest themselves in the first third of the twentieth century and which consequently enabled radical qualitative change in the entire structure of Russian prose. If executed with sufficient accuracy, the reconstruction of AAs in works from different periods can offer new insight into the history of literature. In more precise terms, it can open a new history of literature, a history engaged in the diachronous modification of the models according to which creative texts are generated at a certain points in time.

This research aims to know the potential effect of Intellectual Capital Performance (ICP) to the intensity of Intellectual Capital Disclosure (ICD). The independent variables used in this research are the components of ICP that consists of Value Added Human Capital (VAHU), Value Added Capital Employed (VACA), and Structural Capital Value Added (SCVA) that is measured by using the Value Added Intellectual Coefficient (VAIC™). While, the dependent variable used in this research is ICD that measured by a disclosure index and relevant scoring system. Company size and leverage are also used in the regression model as moderating variables. One year annual reports (2017) of banking sector companies registered on the Indonesia Stock Exchange (IDX) are analyzed in quantitative research type. The samples that listed on the IDX in 2017 are selected by using purposive sampling method with certain criteria and 33 banking sector companies are obtained. The analysis is made by multiple regression analysis and the data testing is conducted by using SPSS 22 and Eviews 9 which previously has been carried out the classic assumption test first. Results of this study indicate that: (1) Simultaneously, ICP component significantly affect ICD. However, each component of VAHU and SCVA does not significantly affect the ICD, only VACA significantly affects the ICD; (2) Simultaneously, with the moderation of company size, ICP does not significantly affect the ICD. Similarly, each component of VAHU, VACA and SCVA does not significantly affect ICD; and (3) Simultaneously, with the moderation of company leverage, ICP significantly affects ICD. However, each component of VAHU and SCVA does not significantly affect the ICD, only VACA significantly affects the ICD.Keywords: Intellectual Capital Performance (ICP), Intellectual Capital Disclosure (ICD), Value Added Human Capital (VAHU), Value Added Capital Employed (VACA), Structural Capital Value Added (SCVA).Abeysekera, I. (2010). The Influence of Board Size on Intellectual Capital Disclosure by Kenyan Listed Firms. Journal of Intellectual Capital, 11 (4), pp. 504-518.Abeysekera, I., & Guthrie, J. (2004). Human Capital Reporting in a Developing Nation. British Accounting Review, 36 (3), pp. 251-268.Aditya Reza, R. (2010). Pengaruh Gaya Kepemimpinan, Motivasi, dan Disiplin Kerja terhadap Kinerja Karyawan PT. Sinar Santosa Perkasa Banjarnegara. Semarang: Universitas Diponegoro.Agnes, U. (2008). Sebuah Tinjauan Akuntansi Atas Pengukuran dan Pelaporan Knowledge. The 2nd National Conference UKWMS. Surabaya.Al-Ali, N. (2003). Comprehensive Intellectual Capital Management. 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Alexander Dugin on
Eurasianism, the Geopolitics of Land and Sea, and a Russian Theory of
Multipolarity







IR has long been regarded as an
Anglo-American social science. Recently, the discipline has started to look
beyond America and England, to China (Theory Talk
#51, Theory Talk
#45), India (Theory Talk
#63, Theory Talk
#42), Africa (Theory Talk #57, Theory Talk
#10) and elsewhere for non-Western
perspectives on international affairs and IR theory. However, IR theorists have
paid little attention to Russian perspectives on the discipline and practice of
international relations. We offer an exciting peek into Russian geopolitical
theory through an interview with the controversial Russian geopolitical thinker
Alexander Dugin, founder of the International
Eurasian Movement and allegedly an important
influence on Putin's foreign policy. In this Talk, Dugin—among others—discusses his Theory of a Multipolar
World, offers a staunch critique of western and liberal IR, and lays out
Russia's unique contribution to the landscape of IR theory.




Print version of this Talk (pdf) Russian version




What, according to you, is
the central challenge or principle debate within IR and what would be your
position within this debate or towards that challenge?



The field of IR is extremely interesting and multidimensional.
In general, the discipline is much more promising than many think. I think that
there is a stereometry today in IR, in which we can distinguish a few axes
right away.



The first, most traditional axis is realism – the English school
– liberalism.



If the debates here are exhausted on an academic level, then on
the level of politicians, the media, and journalists, all the arguments and
methods appear new and unprecedented each time. Today, liberalism in IR
dominates mass consciousness, and realist arguments, already partially
forgotten on the level of mass discourse, could seem rather novel. On the other
hand, the nuanced English school, researched thoroughly in academic circles,
might look like a "revelation" to the general public. But for this to happen, a
broad illumination of the symmetry between liberals and realists is needed for
the English school to acquire significance and disclose its full potential.
This is impossible under the radical domination of liberalism in IR. For that
reason, I predict a new wave of realists and neorealists in this sphere, who,
being pretty much forgotten and almost marginalized, can full well make
themselves and their agenda known. This would, it seems to me, produce a
vitalizing effect and diversify the palette of mass and social debates, which
are today becoming monotone and auto-referential.



The second axis is bourgeois versions of IR (realism, the
English school, and liberalism all together) vs. Marxism in IR. In popular and
even academic discourse, this theme is entirely discarded, although the
popularity of Wallerstein (Theory
Talk #13) and other
versions of world-systems theory shows a degree of interest in this critical
version of classical, positivistic IR theories.



The third axis is post-positivism in all its varieties vs.
positivism in all its varieties (including Marxism). IR scholars might have
gotten the impression that postmodern attacks came to an end, having been
successfully repelled by 'critical realism', but in my opinion it is not at all
so. From moderate constructivism and normativism to extreme post-structuralism,
post-positivistic theories carry a colossal deconstructive and correspondingly
scientific potential, which has not yet even begun to be understood. It seemed
to some that postmodernism is a cheerful game. It isn't. It is a new
post-ontology, and it fundamentally affects the entire epistemological
structure of IR. In my opinion, this axis remains very important and
fundamental.



The fourth axis is the challenge of the sociology of international
relations, which we can call 'Hobson's challenge'. In my opinion, in his
critique of euro-centrism in IR, John M. Hobson laid the foundation for an
entirely new approach to the whole problematic by proposing to consider the
structural significance of the "euro-centric" factor as dominant and clarifying
its racist element. Once we make euro-centrism a variable and move away from
the universalistic racism of the West, on which all systems of IR are built,
including the majority of post-positivistic systems (after all, postmodernity
is an exclusively Western phenomenon!), we get, theoretically for now, an
entirely different discipline—and not just one, it seems. If we take into
account differences among cultures, there can be as many systems of IR as there
are cultures. I consider this axis extremely important.



The fifth axis, outlined in less detail than the previous one,
is the Theory of a Multipolar World vs. everything else. The Theory of a
Multipolar World was developed in Russia,
a country that no one ever took seriously during the entire establishment of IR
as a discipline—hence the fully explainable skepticism toward the Theory of a
Multipolar World.



The sixth axis is IR vs. geopolitics. Geopolitics is usually
regarded as secondary in the context of IR. But gradually, the epistemological
potential of geopolitics is becoming more and more obvious, despite or perhaps
partially because of the criticism against it. We have only to ask ourselves
about the structure of any geopolitical concept to discover the huge potential
contained in its methodology, which takes us to the very complex and
semantically saturated theme of the philosophy and ontology of space.



If we now superimpose these axes onto one another, we get an
extremely complex and highly interesting theoretical field. At the same time,
only one axis, the first one, is considered normative among the public, and
that with the almost total and uni-dimensional dominance of IR liberalism. All
the wealth, 'scientific democracy', and gnoseological pluralism of
the other axes are inaccessible to the broad public, robbing and partly
deceiving it. I call this domination of liberalism among the public the 'third
totalitarianism', but that is a separate issue.





How did you arrive at where
you currently are in your thinking about IR?    




I began with Eurasianism, from which I
came to geopolitics (the Eurasianist Petr Savitskii quoted the
British geopolitician Halford Mackinder) and remained for a long
time in that framework, developing the theme of the dualism of Land and Sea and
applying it to the actual situation That is how the Eurasian school of
geopolitics arose, which became not simply the dominant, but the only school in
contemporary Russia. As a professor at Moscow State University, for six years I
was head of the department of the Sociology of International Relations, which
forced me to become professionally familiar with the classical theories of IR,
the main authors, approaches, and schools. Because I have long been interested
in postmodernism in philosophy (I wrote the book Post-philosophy on the subject), I paid special attention to
post-positivism in IR. That is how I came to IR critical theory,
neo-Gramscianism, and the sociology of IR (John Hobson, Steve Hobden, etc.). I came
to the Theory of a Multipolar World, which I eventually developed myself,
precisely through superimposing geopolitical dualism, Carl Schmitt's theory of the Grossraum, and John Hobson's critique of
Western racism and the euro-centrism of IR.





In your opinion, what would
a student need in order to become a specialist in IR?



In
our interdisciplinary time, I think that what is most important is familiarity
with philosophy and sociology, led by a paradigmatic method: the analysis of
the types of societies, cultures, and structures of thought along the line
Pre-Modernity – Modernity – Post-Modernity. If one learns to trace semantic
shifts in these three epistemological and ontological domains, it will help one
to become familiar with any popular theories of IR today. Barry Buzan's (Theory
Talk #35)
theory of international systems is an example of such a generalizing and very
useful schematization. Today an IR specialist must certainly be familiar with
deconstruction and use it at least in its elementary form. Otherwise, there is
a great danger of overlooking what is most important.



Another very important competence is
history and political science. Political science provides generalizing,
simplifying material, and history puts schemas in their context. I would only
put competence in the domain of economics and political economy in third place,
although today no problem in IR can be considered without reference to the
economic significance of processes and interactions. Finally, I would earnestly
recommend to students of IR to become familiar, as a priority, with geopolitics
and its methods. These methods are much simpler than theories of IR, but their
significance is much deeper. At first, geopolitical simplifications produce an
instantaneous effect: complex and entangled processes of world politics are
rendered transparent and comprehensible in the blink of an eye. But to sort out
how this effect is achieved, a long and serious study of geopolitics is
required, exceeding by far the superficiality that limits critical geopolitics
(Ó Tuathail et. al.): they stand at the beginning of
the decipherment of geopolitics and its full-fledged deconstruction, but they
regard themselves as its champions. They do so prematurely.





What
does it entail to think of global power relations through a spatial lens ('Myslit prostranstvom')?  



This is the most important thing. The
entire philosophical theme of Modernity is built on the dominance of time. Kant
already puts time on the side of the subject (and space on the side of the
body, continuing the ideas of Descartes and even Plato), while Husserl and Heidegger
identify the subject with time altogether. Modernity thinks with time, with
becoming. But since the past and future are rejected as ontological entities,
thought of time is transformed into thought of the instant, of that which is
here and now. This is the basis for the ephemeral understanding of being. To
think spatially means to locate Being outside the present, to arrange it in
space, to give space an ontological status. Whatever was impressed in space is
preserved in it. Whatever will ripen in space is already contained in it. This
is the basis for the political geography of Friedrich Ratzel and subsequent geopoliticians. Wagner's Parsifal ends with the words of
Gurnemanz: 'now time has become space'. This is a proclamation of the triumph
of geopolitics. To think spatially means to think in an entirely different way
[topika]. I think that postmodernity has already partly arrived at this
perspective, but has stopped at the threshold, whereas to cross the line it is
necessary to break radically with the entire axiomatic of Modernity, to really
step over Modernity, and not to imitate this passage while remaining in
Modernity and its tempolatry. Russian people are spaces [Russkie lyudi prostranstva],
which is why we have so much of it. The secret of Russian identity is concealed
in space. To think spatially means to think 'Russian-ly', in Russian.





Geopolitics
is argued to be very popular in Russia nowadays. Is geopolitics a new thing,
from the post-Cold War period, or not? And if not, how does current
geopolitical thinking differ from earlier Soviet (or even pre-soviet)
geopolitics?



It is an entirely new form
of political thought. I introduced geopolitics to Russia at the end of the 80s,
and since then it has become extremely popular. I tried to find some traces of
geopolitics in Russian history, but besides Vandam, Semyonov-Tyan-Shansky, and a few
short articles by Savitskii, there was nothing. In the USSR, any allusion to
geopolitics was punished in the harshest way (see the 'affair of the
geopoliticians' of the economic geographer Vladimir Eduardovich Den and his group).
At the start of the 90s, my efforts and the efforts of my followers and
associates in geopolitics (=Eurasianism) filled the worldview vacuum that
formed after the end of Soviet ideology. At first, this was adopted without
reserve by the military (The Military Academy of the General Staff
of the Armed Forces of Russia), especially under Igor Rodionov. Then,
geopolitics began to penetrate into all social strata. Today, this discipline
is taught in the majority of Russian universities. So, there was no Soviet or
pre-Soviet geopolitics. There is only the contemporary Eurasian school, which
took shape at the end of the 80s. Foundations
of Geopolitics was the first programmatic text of this school, although I had
published most of texts in that book earlier, and some of them were circulated
as texts in government circles. Recently, in 2012, I released two new
textbooks: Geopolitics and The Geopolitics of Russia, which
together with The War of Continents
are the results of work in this field, along four axes. 





In
your book International Relations, not
yet published in English, you set out your Theory of a Multipolar World as a
distinct IR theory. What are the basic components of the Theory of a Multipolar
World—and how is it different from classical realism?



In order to be understood
and not get into the details, I can say that the Theory of a Multipolar World
seriously and axiomatically adopts Samuel Huntington's thesis about the
plurality of civilizations. Russia has its own author, who claimed the same
thing more than a hundred years ago: Nikolay Danilevsky, and then the Eurasianists.
However, everything starts from precisely this point: civilization is not one,
but many. Western civilization's pretension to universalism is a form of the
will to domination and an authoritarian discourse. It can be taken into account
but not believed. It is nothing other than a strategy of suppression and
hegemony. The following point follows: we must move from thinking in terms of
one civilization (the racism of euro-centric versions of IR) to a pluralism of
subjects. However, unlike realists, who take as the subject of their theory
nation-states, which are themselves products of the European, bourgeois, modern
understanding of the Political, the Theory of a Multipolar World proposes to
take civilizations as subjects. Not states, but civilizations. I call them
'large politeiai', or civilizations, corresponding to Carl Schmitt's 'large
spaces'. As soon as we take these civilizations—'large politeiai'—as subjects,
we can then apply to them the full system of premises of realism: anarchy in
the international system, sovereignty, the rationality of egoistic behavior,
etc. But within these 'politeiai', by contrast, a principle more resembling
liberalism, with its pacifism and integration, operates, only with the
difference that here we are not talking about a 'planetary' or 'global' world,
but about an intra-civilizational one; not about global integration, but about
regional integration, strictly within the context of civilizational borders.
Post-positivism, in turn, helps here for the deconstruction of the
authoritarian discourse of the West, which masks its private interests by
'universal values', and also for the reconstruction of civilizational identity,
including with the help of technological means: civilizational elites,
civilizational media, civilizational economic algorithms and corporations, etc.
That is the general picture.





Your
theory of multipolarity is directed against the intellectual, political, and
social hegemony of the West. At the same time, while drawing on the tools of
neo-Marxist analysis and critical theory, it does not oppose Western hegemony
'from the left', as those approaches do, but on the basis of traditionalism (Rene
Guenon, Julius
Evola), cultural
anthropology, and Heideggerian phenomenology, or 'from the right'. Do you think
that such an approach can appeal to Anglo-American IR practitioners, or is it
designed to appeal mainly to non-Western theorists and practitioners? In short,
what can IR theorists in the West learn from the theory of multipolarity?



According to Hobson's
entirely correct analysis, the West is based on a fundamental sort of racism.
There is no difference between Lewis Morgan's evolutionistic racism
(with his model of savagery, barbarism, civilization) and Hitler's biological
racism. Today the same racism is asserted without a link to race, but on the
basis of the technological modes and degrees of modernization and progress of
societies (as always, the criterion "like in the West" is the general measure).
Western man is a complete racist down to his bones, generalizing his
ethnocentrism to megalomaniacal proportions. Something tells me that he is
impossible to change. Even radical critiques of Western hegemony are themselves
deeply infected by the racist virus of universalism, as Edward Said showed with the
example of 'orientalism', proving that the anticolonial struggle is a form of
that very colonialism and euro-centrism. So the Theory of a Multipolar World
will hardly find adherents in the Western world, unless perhaps among those
scholars who are seriously able to carry out a deconstruction of Western
identity, and such deconstruction assumes the rejection of both Right
(nationalistic) and Left (universalistic and progressivist) clichés. The racism
of the West always acquires diverse forms. Today its main form is liberalism,
and anti-liberal theories (most on the Left) are plagued by the same
universalism, while Right anti-liberalisms have been discredited. That is why I
appeal not to the first political theory (liberalism), nor the second
(communism, socialism), nor to the third (fascism, Nazism), but to something I
call the Fourth Political Theory (or 4PT), based on a
radical deconstruction of the subject of Modernity and the application of
Martin Heidegger's existential analytic method.



Traditionalists are brought
in for the profound critique of Western Modernity, for establishing the
plurality of civilizations, and for rehabilitating non-Western (pre-modern)
cultures. In Russia and Asian countries, the Theory of a Multipolar World is
grasped easily and naturally; in the West, it encounters a fully understandable
and fully expected hostility, an unwillingness to study it carefully, and
coarse slander. But there are always exceptions.





What
is the Fourth Political Theory (4PT) and how is it related to the Theory of a
Multipolar World and to your criticism of the prevailing theoretical approaches
in the field of IR?



I spoke a little about this in the
response to the previous question. The Fourth Political Theory is important for
getting away from the strict dominance of modernity in the sphere of the
Political, for the relativization of the West and its re-regionalization. The
West measures the entire history of Modernity in terms of the struggle of three
political ideologies for supremacy (liberalism, socialism, and nationalism).
But since the West does not even for a moment call into question the fact that
it thinks for all humanity, it evaluates other cultures and civilizations in
the same way, without considering that in the best case the parallels to these
three ideologies are pure simulacra, while most often there simply are no
parallels. If liberalism won the competition of the three ideologies in the
West at the end of the 20th century, that does not yet mean that
this ideology is really universal on a world scale. It isn't at all. This
episode of the Western political history of modernity may be the fate of the
West, but not the fate of the world. So other principles of the political are
needed, beyond liberalism, which claims global domination (=the third
totalitarianism), and its failed alternatives (communism and fascism), which
are historically just as Western and modern as liberalism. This explains the
necessity of introducing a Fourth Political Theory as a political frame for the
correct basis of a Theory of a Multipolar World. The Fourth Political Theory is
the direct and necessary correlate of the Theory of a Multipolar World in the
domain of political theory.





Is
IR an American social science? Is Russian IR as an academic field a
reproduction of IR as an American academic field? If not, how is IR in Russia
specifically Russian?



IR is a Western scientific discipline,
and as such it has a prescriptive, normative vector. It not only studies the
West's dominance, it also produces, secures, defends, and propagandizes it. IR
is undoubtedly an imperious authoritarian discourse of Western civilization, in
relation to itself and all other areas of the planet. Today the US is the core
of the West, so naturally in the 20th century IR became more and
more American as the US moved toward that status (it began as an English
science). It is the same with geopolitics, which migrated from London to
Washington and New York together with the function of a global naval Empire. As
with all other sciences, IR is a form of imperious violence, embodying the will
to power in the will to knowledge (as Michel Foucault explained). IR in Russia remains purely
Western, with one detail: in the USSR, IR as such was not studied. Marxism in
IR did not correspond to Soviet reality, where after Stalin a practical form of
realism (not grounded theoretically and never acknowledged) played a big
role—only external observers, like the classical realist E.H. Carr, understood
the realist essence of Stalinism in IR. So IR was altogether blocked. The first
textbooks started to appear only in the 90s and in the fashion of the day they
were all liberal. That is how it has remained until now. The peculiarity of IR
in Russia today lies in the fact that there is no longer anything Russian
there; liberalism dominates entirely, a correct account of realism is lacking,
and post-positivism is almost entirely disregarded. The result is a truncated,
aggressively liberal and extremely antiquated version of IR as a discipline. I
try to fight that. I recently released an IR textbook with balanced (I hope)
proportions, but it is too early to judge the result.





Stephen
Walt argued in a September
article in Foreign Policy that Russia 'is nowhere near as threatening as the old Soviet
Union', in part because Russia 'no longer boasts an ideology that can rally
supporters worldwide'. Do you agree with Walt's assessment?



There is something to that. Today, Russia
thinks of itself as a nation-state. Putin is a realist; nothing more. Walt is
right about that. But the Theory of a Multipolar World and the Fourth Political
Theory, as well as Eurasianism, are outlines of a much broader and large-scale
ideology, directed against Western hegemony and challenging liberalism,
globalization, and American strategic dominance. Of course, Russia as a
nation-state is no competition for the West. But as the bridgehead of the
Theory of a Multipolar World and the Fourth Political Theory, it changes its
significance. Russian policies in the post-Soviet space and Russia's courage in
forming non-Western alliances are indicators. For now, Putin is testing this
conceptual potential very gingerly. But the toughening of relations with the
West and most likely the internal crises of globalization will at some point
force a more careful and serious turn toward the creation of global alternative
alliances. Nevertheless, we already observe such unions: The Shanghai Cooperation Organization, BRICS, the Eurasian Union—and they require a new
ideology. Not one like Marxism, any universalism is excluded, but also not
simple realist maneuvers of regional hegemons. Liberalism is a global
challenge. The response to it should also be global. Does Putin understand
this? Honestly, I don't know. Sometimes it seems he does, and sometimes it
seems he doesn't.





Vladimir
Putin recently characterized the contemporary world order as follows: 'We have entered a period of differing interpretations and
deliberate silences in world politics. International law has been forced to
retreat over and over by the onslaught of legal nihilism. Objectivity and
justice have been sacrificed on the altar of political expediency. Arbitrary
interpretations and biased assessments have replaced legal norms. At the same
time, total control of the global mass media has made it possible when desired
to portray white as black and black as white'. Do you agree with this
assessment? If so, what is required as a response to this international
situation?



These are true, but rather
naïve words. Putin is just indignant that the West establishes rules in its own
interests, changes them when necessary, and interprets allegedly 'universal
norms' in its own favor. But the issue is that this is the structure of the
will to power and the very organization of logo-phallo-phono-centric discourse.
Objectivity and justice are not possible so long as speech is a monologue. The
West does not know and does not recognize the other. But this means that
everything will continue until this other wins back the right to recognition.
And that is a long road. The point of the Theory of a Multipolar World is that
there are no rules established by some one player. Rules must be established by
centers of real power. The state today is too small for that; hence the
conclusion that civilizations should be these centers. Let there be an Atlantic
objectivity and Western justice. A Eurasian objectivity and Russian justice
will counter them. And the Chinese world or Pax Sinica [world/peace: same word
in Russian] will look different than the Islamic one. Black and white are not
objective evaluations. They depend on the structure of the world order: what is
black and what is white is determined by one who has enough power to determine
it.





How
does your approach help us understand Russia's actions on the world stage
better than other IR approaches do? What are IR analyses of Russia missing that
do not operate with the conceptual apparatus of multipolarity?



Interesting question. Russia's behavior
internationally is determined today by the following factors:



First,
historical inertia, accumulating the power of precedents (the Theory of a
Multipolar World thinks that the past exists as a structure; consequently, this
factor is taken into account from many sides and in detail, while the
'tempocentrism' (Steve Hobden, John Hobson) of classical IR theories drops this
from sight. We have to pay attention to this especially taking into
consideration the fact that Russia is in many ways still a traditional society
and belongs to the 'imperial system' of IR.) There are, besides, Soviet inertia
and stable motives ('Stalinism in IR');



Second,
the projective logic of opposition to the West, stemming from the most practical,
pragmatic, and realist motivations (in the spirit of Caesarism, analyzed by
neo-Gramscians) will necessarily lead Russia (even despite the will of its
leaders) to a systemic confrontation with American hegemony and globalization,
and then the Theory of a Multipolar World will really be needed (classical IR
models, paying no attention to the Theory of a Multipolar World, drop from
sight the possible future; i.e., they rob themselves of predictive potential
because of purely ideological prejudices and self-imposed fears).



But if an opponent underestimates you,
you have more chances to land an unexpected blow. So I am not too disturbed by
the underestimation of the Theory of a Multipolar World among IR theorists.





In
the western world, the divide between academia and policy is often either
lamented ('ivory tower') or, in light of the ideal of academic independence,
deemed absent. This concerns a broader debate regarding the relations between
power, knowledge and geopolitics. How are academic-policy relations in Russia
with regards to IR and is this the ideal picture according to you?



I think that in our case both positions
have been taken to their extreme. On one hand, today's authorities in Russia do
not pay the slightest attention to scholars, dispatching them to an airless and
sterile space. On the other hand, Soviet habits became the basis for servility
and conformism, preserved in a situation when the authorities for the first
time demand nothing from intellectuals, except for one thing: that they not
meddle in socio-political processes. So the situation with science is both
comical and sorrowful. Conformist scholars follow the authorities, but the
authorities don't need this, since they do not so much go anywhere in
particular as react to facts that carry themselves out.





If
your IR theory isn't based on politically and philosophically liberal
principles, and if it criticizes those principles not from the left but from
the right, using the language of large spaces or Grossraum, is it a fascist theory of international relations? Are scholars who characterize your thought as 'neo-fascism',
like Andreas Umland and Anton Shekhovstov, partially correct? If not, why is that characterization
misleading?



Accusations of fascism are simply a
figure of speech in the coarse political propaganda peculiar to contemporary
liberalism as the third totalitarianism. Karl Popper laid the basis for this in
his book The
Open Society and its Enemies, where he reduced the critique of
liberalism from the right to fascism, Hitler, and Auschwitz, and the criticism
of liberalism from the left to Stalin and the GULAG. The reality is somewhat
more complex, but George
Soros,
who finances Umland and Shekhovstov and is an ardent follower of Popper, is
content with reduced versions of politics. If I were a fascist, I would say so.
But I am a representative of Eurasianism and the author of the Fourth Political
Theory. At the same time, I am a consistent and radical anti-racist and
opponent of the nation-state project (i.e. an anti-nationalist). Eurasianism has
no relation to fascism. And the Fourth Political Theory emphasizes that while
it is anti-liberal, it is simultaneously anti-communist and anti-fascist. I
think it isn't possible to be clearer, but the propaganda army of the 'third
totalitarianism' disagrees and no arguments will convince it. 1984 should be
sought today not where many think: not in the USSR, not in the Third Reich, but
in the Soros Fund and the 'Brave New World'. Incidentally, Huxley proved to be
more correct than Orwell. I cannot forbid others from calling me a fascist,
although I am not one, though ultimately this reflects badly not so much on me
as on the accusers themselves: fighting an imaginary threat, the accuser misses
a real one. The more stupid, mendacious, and straightforward a liberal is, the
simpler it is to fight with him.





Does
technological change in warfare and in civil government challenge the
geopolitical premises of classical divisions between spaces (Mackinder's view
or Spykman's) heartland-rimland-offshore continents)? And, more broadly
perhaps, does history have a linear or a cyclical pattern, according to you?



Technological development does not at all
abolish the principles of classical geopolitics, simply because Land and Sea
are not substances, but concepts. Land is a centripetal model of order, with a
clearly expressed and constant axis. Sea is a field, without a hard center, of
processuality, atomism, and the possibility of numerous bifurcations. In a
certain sense, air (and hence also aviation) is aeronautics. And even the word
astronaut contains in itself the root 'nautos', from the Greek word for ship.
Water, air, outer space—these are all versions of increasingly diffused Sea.
Land in this situation remains unchanged. Sea strategy is diversified; land
strategy remains on the whole constant. It is possible that this is the reason
for the victory of Land over Sea in the last decade; after all, capitalism and
technical progress are typical attributes of Sea. But taking into consideration
the fundamental character of the balance between Leviathan and Behemoth, the
proportions can switch at any moment; the soaring Titan can be thrown down into
the abyss, like Atlantis, while the reason for the victory of thalassocracy becomes the source of its
downfall. Land remains unchanged as the geographic axis of history. There is
Land and Sea even on the internet and in the virtual world: they are axes and
algorithms of thematization, association and separation, groupings of resources
and protocols. The Chinese internet is terrestrial; the Western one, nautical.





You
have translated a great number of foreign philosophical and geopolitical works
into Russian. How important is knowledge transaction for the formation of your ideas?



I recently completed the
first release of my book Noomachy,
which is entirely devoted precisely to the Logoi of various civilizations, and
hence to the circulation of ideas. I am convinced that each civilization has
its own particular Logos. To grasp it and to find parallels, analogies, and
dissonances in one's own Logos is utterly fascinating and interesting. That is
why I am sincerely interested in the most varied cultures, from North American
to Australian, Arabic to Latin American, Polynesian to Scandinavian. All the
Logoi are different and it is not possible to establish a hierarchy among them.
So it remains for us only to become familiar with them. Henry Corbin, the French
philosopher and Protestant who studied Iranian Shiism his entire life, said of
himself 'We are Shiites'. He wasn't a Shiite in the religious sense, but
without feeling himself a Shiite, he would not be able to penetrate into the
depths of the Iranian Logos. That is how I felt, working on Noomachy or translating philosophical
texts or poetry from other languages: in particular, while learning Pierce and
James, Emerson and Thoreau, Poe and Pound I experienced myself as 'we are
Americans'. And in the volume devoted to China and Japan, as 'we are
Buddhists'. That is the greatest wealth of the Logos of various cultures: both
those like ours and those entirely unlike ours. And these Logoi are at war;
hence, Noomachy, the war of the
intellect. It is not linear and not primitive. It is a great war. It creates
that which we call the 'human', the entire depth and complexity of which we
most often underestimate.





Final
question. You call yourself the 'last philosopher of empire'. What is
Eurasanism and how does it relate to the global pivot of power distributions?



Eurasianism is a developed worldview, to
which I dedicated a few books and a countless number of articles and
interviews. In principle, it lies at the basis of the Theory of a Multipolar
World and the Fourth Political Theory, combined with geopolitics, and it
resonates with Traditionalism. Eurasianism's main thought is plural
anthropology, the rejection of universalism. The meaning of Empire for me is
that there exists not one Empire, but at minimum two, and even more. In the
same way, civilization is never singular; there is always some other
civilization that determines its borders. Schmitt called this the Pluriverse
and considered it the main characteristic of the Political. The Eurasian Empire
is the political and strategic unification of Turan, a geographic axis of history
in opposition to the civilization of the Sea or the Atlanticist Empire. Today,
the USA is this Atlanticist Empire. Kenneth Waltz, in the context of neorealism
in IR, conceptualized the balance of two poles. The analysis is very accurate,
although he erred about the stability of a bipolar world and the duration of
the USSR. But on the whole he is right: there is a global balance of Empires in
the world, not nation-States, the majority of which cannot claim sovereignty,
which remains nominal (Stephen Krasner's (Theory
Talk #21) 'global hypocrisy'). For
precisely that reason, I am a philosopher of Empire, as is almost every
American intellectual, whether he knows it or not. The difference is only that
he thinks of himself as a philosopher of the only Empire, while I think of
myself as the philosopher of one of the Empires, the Eurasian one. I am more
humble and more democratic. That is the whole difference.





Alexander Dugin is a Russian philosopher,
the author of over thirty books on topics including the sociology of the
imagination, structural sociology, ethnosociology, geopolitical theory,
international relations theory, and political theory, including four books on
the German philosopher Martin Heidegger. His most recent books, only available
in Russian at the moment, are Ukraine: My
War and the multi-volume Noomachia:
Wars of the Intellect. Books translated into English include The Fourth Political Theory,
Putin vs. Putin: Vladimir Putin Viewed
From the Right, and Martin Heidegger: The Philosophy of
Another Beginning.






Related links





Who is Alexander Dugin? Interview with Theory Talks editor Michael Millerman (YouTube)
TheFourth Political Theory website (English): 
Evrazia.tv
(Russian) 
Evrazia.tv
(English) 
Geopolitics.ru
(English version)
InternationalEurasian Movement (English version)
Centerfor Conservative Studies (Russian)

Print version of this Talk (pdf) Russian version

Issue 58.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1999. ; f'o r reli i , C~stian Heritages and Contempora~ Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER1999 ¯ VOLUME58 ~°~NUMBER5 Review for Religious is a forum for shared r(flection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. Tbe articles in tbe journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or ~ometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published hi-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. 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Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm 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 SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER'1999 ¯ VOLUME58 ¯ NUMBER5 contents 454 perspectives The Self in Postmodern Thought: A Carmelite Response Vilma Seelaus OCD places the biblical God-related understanding of the. self, on which the Carmelite tradition rests, in conversation with the postmodern self. 470 The "World" from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II Frederick E. Crowe SJ examines some major transitions in the Christian attitude toward the world, especially as a new context for the meaning of consecrated life. 490 brothers "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother": Being and Doing Brotherhood Joel Giallanza CSC reflects on the very identity of the religious vocation of "brother" as providing both brothers themselves and the church with a rich and prophetic spirituality. Religious Brothers: One Vocation Director's Perspective Paul Bednarczyk CSC shares his reflections on why fewer people are choosing to be brothers and on some possible countermeasures. Review for Religious 5OO journeying On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming Avis Clendenen brings together personal experience and psychological and theological insight in addressing the reality of making and breaking commitments. 515 Charism and Membership: Surpassing the Institutional Limits of Religious Life Deborah M. Cerullo SSND proposes that emphasis on becoming grounded in the charism through a common novitiate experience would create a better synthesis of diverse ways of being members. 524 associates Identity, Purpose, Organization: Ongoing Associate Programs Rose McDermott SSJ presents a brief historical overview of associates and associations joined to religious institutes, reviews church legislation, and then raises issues about sound future development. 537 Similarity and Uniqueness in the Association Experience: Theological Reflection Roberta Archibald SSJ, Joanne Bauer SBS, Mary Mester RSM, and Jean Ustasiewski OSF share their experience of using theological reflection in a regional gathering of associates and sisters. departments 452 Prisms 546 Canonical Counsel: Impediments to Admission 552 Book Reviews September-October 1999 prisms Thy kingdom come The words kingdom and reign sound off-putting to most Americans. We have little tra-dition of kings and queens. What we have of it stems from a relatively brief past of early colonizers looking back to European roots. But when we Christians pray the Lord's prayer, we find ourselves begging God--the one we address by Jesus' word Father--that "your king-dom will come." By Jesus' teaching us a way to pray as he prays, we seem to be using language that pictures God as ruler or king and God's area of influence as a kingdom. What do we mean when we pray "Thy kingdom come"? Perhaps we can gain some cl,arity by identifying first what we do not mean. Kingdom is not to be identi-fied with any political entity. Even the age-old notion of Christendom was not tl~e same as this kingdom, and so the breakup of Christendom was not a dissolution of the kingdom. Kingdom is not a certain physical locale. The Roman Catholic Church as an institutional structure is not identified with the kingdom. The church has an important role to play in the kingdom, but it is not the kingdom itself. The church continues the mission of Jesus in proclaiming the kingdom. The church is at the service of the kingdom; it is meant to be a sign, a sacrament of its presence. The kingdom is not something that we human beings fashion or build. We may sing some songs about Review for Religious our "building the kingdom of God," but there is no reality to be done corresponding to our words. According to the gospel imper-ative, we seek first the kingdom of God. We want what God wants. We desire to be totally available to God, ready to serve, eager to do God's will. Doing the will of God involves discipleship--hear-ing the call of Jesus and responding with the total gift of self. Doing the will of God makes the kingdom present, because we are busy about what God is busy about, and so we are where God is. Above all, as our petition teaches us, we pray for the coming of the kingdom since it is God's doing, it is God's work. Jesus himself never gives a definition of kingdom, and we may be surprised that no one seems to question him. In the synoptic Gospels, he never claims the kingdom as his; it always is identified with the one he calls Abba. Only through parables do we find Jesus giving some description of the kingdom. Our Christian Eucharist anticipates the frequent parable allusions to the eating and drink-ing at the Lord's table in the kingdom. For in every Eucharist we place ourselves with Jesus in his total availability to God as he prays "not my will, but yours be done." So what are we to say about the kingdom? How are we to make this petition our own every time we pray the Our Father? The kingdom is the inbreaking presence of God to our human world and our responsive relating to God's being with us. God continues to pour out divine life--what we name as grace--and, when human cooperation is present, then the kingdom is right at hand. Just as the disciples experienced the transfiguration of Jesus, so too the kingdom is often experienced by our touching into this transfiguration kind of moment of a deeper-down reality shining out through our ordinary world. As we enter into this jubilee year, not through the alarms of some millenarians, but rather through the gospel introduction of Jesus, we hear anew Jesus' call to conversion and repentance, his admonition of obedience and watchfulness, and his appeal to be ready and waiting. We are like members of a wedding party--joy-ful, expectant. But it is no bride or groom whom we serve and cel-ebrate. It is our triune God--shining out as the redemptive presence of the Father in Jesus through the power of their Spirit of love. What do we want for ourselves and for our world? "Thy Kingdom come." David L. Fleming sJ September-October 1999 perspectives VILMA SEELAUS The Self in Postmodern Thought: A Carmelite Response This article was conceived at the end of the Carmelite Seminar of 1997 at St. Mary's College in South Bend. I had an opportunity to browse in the Notre Dame book-store, and two titles in different sections waved for my attention. The first was The Thought of the Heart and the Soul of the World, in which Jungian author James Hillman takes archetypal psychology in a new direction. He claims that, with the soul of the world sick as evidenced by violence and corruption, individuals become sick at heart and suffer heart attacks. To restore the heart's courage and its imaginative power, therefore, the soul of the world needs the same attention that we have been giving to the soul of individual persons. Situating the individual self within the heart of the world challenges the rugged individualism of the modern self.1 The other book that caught my attention was Anthony Thiselton's Interpreting God and the Postmodern Self, in which he offers a hermeneutic of selfhood. Thiselton compares and assesses both modern and post-modern interpretations of the self in relation to Christian Vilma Seelaus OCD made this presentation in June 1998 at the Carmelite Seminar at St. Mary's College in South Bend, Indiana. It is being published also on audio- and videocas-sette by ICS Publications and the Carmelite Institute. Her address is Carmelite Monastery; Barrington, Rhode Island 02806. Review for Religious theology. Postmodern interpretations, he acknowledges, perceive the self as trapped within a network of role performances imposed on it by the power interests of others, but he argues for a deeper understanding of the self and its destiny. Postmodernism de-cen-ters the self; it denies any permanent, integrated reality to the self. It claims that identity is socially constructed and that people in different kinds of societies have quite different identity-forming experiences. Thiselton accepts the force of this, but argues for a deeper understanding of the self in relation to the biblical vision of reality and Christian theology.2 Reading Hillman and Thiselton enticed me into further study of postmodern thought in relation to the self. Before long, the complexity of the topic had my head spinning) Furthermore, post-modern debates about the very nature of reality challenged beliefs that shape my life as a Carmelite. And yet, the more perplexed I became, the more firmly did an inner conviction stand its ground: that our Carmelite mystical tradition has perennial values and insights for our postmodern world and perhaps for many worlds yet to come. In these reflections, therefore, I place the biblical God-related understanding of the self, on which the Carmelite tradition rests, in conversation with the postmodern self. I do this in two parts. Part One brings together important insights from both the mod-ern and the postmodern movements, showing a shift in under-standing the self. Part Two looks into the writings of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross for what they offer by way of chal-lenge, expansion, or depth in regard to the self and in regard to our own spiritual journey.as we enter the new millennium. Part One Walter Truett Anderson's insightful and witty book titled: Reality Isn't What It Used to Be helped me to realize that the self in particular is not what it used to be. What did the self use to be that it no longer is? What are the shifts in self-understanding, which, for better or for worse, postmodernism names for us? How might we as Christians respond appropriately to the challenge of post-modernism? First, what do we mean by postmodern? Postmoderns claim to have superseded, to have gone beyond, previous ways of thinking, feeling, and behaving which developed in the so-called modern September-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought period. It deconstructs them, to use the "in" term. At the same time, postmodernism is far from a developed, coherent social theory. Scholars dispute whether or not it is a form of radical modernism or something distinctive after modernism, or some of each. According to Philip Endean in his foreword to an issue of The Way dedicated to postmodernism and spirituality: As the structure of the word implies, the postmodern cannot be understood for what it is in itself, but only in terms of what has preceded it: the postmodern is a gamut of reac-tions to the modern, swinging between two moods: a mood of disillusionment, as previously unquestioned assumptions and standards are found wanting, and a mood of exhilara-tion, as new and better alternatives are explored, develop&d, and advocated. Postmodern thinking draws on a wide range of sources: from cybernetics to feminism, from literary the-ory to the new physics, from cultural history to psychoanal-ysis and linguistics. Perhaps for this reason its expression can be, notoriously, opaque.4 Although the philosopher Kant back in the 18th century.paved the way, the 1960s are considered the true beginning of the post-modern era. At that time everything came into question, and all belief systems, with their traditional values, came under attack. People in the '60s began to question what they called the myth of objective consciousness: that, when you looked at things, what you saw and described was what was actually there. (At the scene of an accident, eyewitnesses often give conflicting accounts of what happened.) Today constructivists hold that the "real world" is an ever changing social creation. In the 1960s, thoughts about the self were also changing. As Anderson points out: In the '60s, people assumed that, if you developed enough contempt for your old socially adapted self, a new True Self, unsullied by any conformity, would magically appear, that a True Culture and a True Politics likewise stood in the wings--and that when they appeared they would not have to coexist with old selves, old cultures, old politics. Things didn't work that way!6 Though the '60s were the time of eruption, postmodernism con-tinues and radicalizes trends that actually began during the Enlightenment, at the dawn of what philosophers call the "mod-ern period." Descartes (1596-1650), the classical modern philoso-pher of clear and distinct ideas, attempted to provide clear and Revieva for Religious certain criteria against which our knowledge can be tested for truth. He was also intensely preoccupied with the subject who knows these ideas: the knowing person. For today's radical deconstructionists, like Derrida, such Cartesian objectivity is anathema. Derrida holds all reality to be socially constructed. Reality is simply the interpretation of the perceiving subject. Derrida insists that we cannot grasp reality because it slips by before we can catch hold of it. Everything, then, is interpreta-tion. Nevertheless, Derrida and the other decon-structionists are in a way Descartes's descendants. Descartes understands the self as an active agent, whereas for Derrida the self shifts from active agent to passive situatedness. Instead of a core something (called selJ) determining how it will respond to different situations, the situation cre-ates the self. Different situations call forth a dif-ferent self to be expressed.7 On the whole, postmoderns recognize the importance, for its time, of the modern move-ment. It brought new values to the fore. We ben-efit from the knowledge that scientific objectivity makes possible. From it come the many techno-logical wonders that are integral to our everyday life. In the moral and political spheres, modernity made room for personal autonomy and liberty and for the development of a liberal society wherein diversity is possible. Religion, too, has been enriched by modernity. Most Jewish and Christian believers, for example, no longer subscribe to a literal understanding of the Bible's story of creation in six days.8 But the improvements of modernity have a dark side: the exploitation of nature and its resources, the emergence of indi-vidualism and the consequent collapse of the sense of community, the divorce of technology from moral values, and denials of the worth of ethnic, tribal, and religious traditions. While the modern period gave us universal abstract systems and scientific "metanar-ratives," accounts of the origins and development of the universe, these often denied the existence of God or denied that God could ¯ be discovered by the conscious self. As a result, in today's world many lives are governed by efficiency, profit, success, and the will Modernity made room for personal autonomy and liberty and for the development of a liberal society wherein diversity is possible. September-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought to power without regard for ultimate human values. Talk of love, truthfulness, belief, loyalty, and so forth has little meaning. Further, advanced technology, the offspring of the modern period, has introduced a world of ceaseless change. New models quickly replace the old. Things are made not to endure, but to be consumed and replaced. Think of how quickly appliances need replacement or upgrading. Indeed, today we struggle with both the benefits and the dark side of the modern period. As science enabled the modern self more and more to carve out and control its own destiny, the self tended to be assured and opti-mistic. But today, as postmodern thinkers become increasingly aware of the self's arrogant, power-hungry dark side, the self appears to be, in fact, de-centered--no longer an active agent, but instead taking its identity from the variable roles imposed upon it by society and by its own inner drives and conflicts, conflicts which the communications media keep in constant motion. The media, especially the advertising world, tell it who it should be, how it should look, what it should own, and where it needs to travel in order to feel good about itself. Postmoderns see our opinions formed for us by the collective perceptions of the media. Under such conditions, notions of a true self give way to the self as wear-ing different masks to suit the occasion, with little sense of a solid identity underneath. We tend to become who we think others want us to be. In theory, the will of the individual is still supreme, but often it has no strong center, no belief system to serve as anchor. When everything is up for grabs, the self lacks the support of collective meaning. There is too much to choose from; this can leave indi-viduals feeling alone in a sea of options. Many people today feel estranged from others and even from themselves. When people see no value to their lives other than the imperatives of efficiency, success, or serving the power interests of others, when their "real-ity" depends on what the TV screen says is real, no wonder there are high r~ites of suicide and physician-assisted death. Veronica Brady, in an article in The Way, describes it well: "Caught in this ceaseless flow of images, the self almost ceases to exist, breaking into fragments, identifying only with the flow. Right and wrong become a matter of personal taste, depending not so much on what is done but who does it. The center does not hold because there is no center.''9 A character in Salman Rushdie's Satanic Verses says: "Information got abolished sometime in the Review for Religious twentieth century, can't say just when, stands to reason, that's part of the information that got., abolished. Since then we've been living in a fairy-story . Everything happens by magic. [We] haven't a. notion what's going on. So how do we know if it's right or wrong? We don't even know what it is.'''° Rushdie's world of illusion hangs within the "actual" world of extremes of rich and poor, with millions dying of starvation as nations invest billions of dollars in developing new and deadlier weapons that are then sold to warring ethnic and tribal groups intent on destroying each other. In this context the theories of deconstructionists like Derrida and Lyotard begin to make sense. The absurdity of human confidence in its power to rule the world is becoming more and more apparent as the products of the human mind threaten to destroy us. At the same time, on the positive side, the modern period highlighted one of the deepest urges of the human heart: to be someone. The drift of cultural change is in the direction of human rights, of wanting everyone to be free to create personal identity and experience, even though, for many in our world, resources are not available. No wonder people become dishonest--seeking to have and be and do what the TV ads say they should have and be and do. The struggle to be someone is now a global struggle. Some years ago I had occasion to live in Israel for three months. The incongruities of the struggle became vivid for me when I saw, above Bedouin tents in the desert, TV antennas con-necting them with the modern/postmodern world. As Walter Truett Anderson puts it: "Every morning billions of pairs of eyes open, and billions of societies of mind set forth on the adventures of selfhood. For many the adventure only rarely rises above the level of a struggle to keep the body alive, but even the most mis-erable among us also hear the aspirations of the self---the 'me' craving reassurance that it exists and is good and the modern me that pursues happiness and believes that, whatever happiness it finds, will be what it has taken or created and not what has been handed down by fate.''~ To add a further dimension, the global struggle to be someone is seen with fresh and deep insight by postmodern psychologists who have been influenced by Buddhism. Psychologists Robert Rosenbaum and John Dyckman hold with Buddhism that self/oth-ers are empty. This does not mean that they are void; it means they have no existence other than in relationships that are con- Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought World and self mutually influence and create one another. stantly arising in the immediate experience of the moment. To say that the self is empty means that the self is not a thing and there-fore has no unchanging core characteristics or essence. It is a way of indicating that self is always completely connected to its imme-diate experience, that in the immediacy of the moment, uncon-strained by past residue or future expectations, self is always free. As the Buddhist Diamond Sutra notes, the past is gone, the future is not here, and the present cannot be grasped. This is perfect freedom.12 As the authors point out, freedom here is not to be confused with a pseudofreedom that seeks to abandon all constraints. Instead, to understand emptiness as being connected to immedi-ate experience can lead to greater generosity and compassion toward the self and others. Past experience no longer has the last word. The empty self, actualized in immediate expe-rience, binds together apparent opposites: the dynamic interchange of oneness and separate-ness. These are not mutually exclusive. The empty self is the connected self which is actu-alized in context and in relationships. Observation reveals self-identity to be fluid and constantly changing according to context and relationships. As the Rosenbaum-Dyckman article puts it, "At work we may be decisive and authoritative; when out to dinner with our spouse, we may be hesitant and deferent about what to order for dinner. Yet we believe ourselves to be the same person.°13 Postmodern psychologists repeatedly make the point that our person is not encapsulated by our skin, but exists in relation. The self is always self in relation, in action, and as such is always con-textual. They hold that emotions are always a reliving in the pre-sent rather than a recall from the dead past. If we do not need to be attached to an unchanging self, and can see change as the only constant, it becomes somewhat easier to image change in prob-lem behaviors24 Although the self may be fluid and constantly changing, it must nevertheless have a boundary, but, according to Rosenbaum and Dyckman, a boundary with infinite length enclosing a finite, definable area, different from the rigid boundaries of lines on a map. Human boundaries are not abstract, conceptual schemas, but are always embodied in constant interaction with a world from Review for Religious which they are not separate. World and self mutually influence and create one another. Such mutual influencing has the potential to stretch present definable boundaries and give glimpses into the infinite. Here the parable of the Pharisee and the Publican comes to mind. If our attitude is one of self-righteousness that places us over against the rest of the world, we will be unable to hear the challenges that postmodern psychologists offer us for continued growth in our postmodern world. Our boundaries become sealed in finitude, and the infinite capacity that is ours becomes rigid, like the lines of a map. Psychologists in increasing numbers address the postmodern shift in regard to the self, and they offer valuable insights for living healthily in today's changing world. At the same time, postmodern philosophers and psychologists do not have the last word, and so now we turn to the mystics for their insights into the self. Part Two Since human boundaries are not abstract, but are embodied and are in constant interaction with the world from which they are not separate, precisely here does the biblically based Carmelite tradition offer timeless help. Back in 16th-century Spain, Teresa of Avila wrote a book to help her daughters of the reformed Carmel relate to one another and to the world, from which they were not separate even in their cloister. In her Way of Perfection, she gives her daughters some advice that flows with meaning into our post-modern age: "I shall enlarge on only three things., for it is very important that we understand how much the practice of these three things helps us to possess inwardly and outwardly the peace our Lord recommended so highly to us. The first of these is love for one another; the second is detachment from all created things; the third is true humility, which, even though I speak of it last, is the main practice and embraces all the others.''~s Many centuries separate us from Teresa and the particularity of her issues, but the interrelated dynamic of love, detachment, and humility are integral to spiritual growth in today's confusing world. Postmodernity challenges much of what we cling to by way of values and beliefs and, in particular, our self-understanding. To understand the self as fluid and constantly changing invites a deeper penetration into the Christian, Carmelite Understanding of Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought detachment. It would have us be attached to nothing, not even the most innocent of things, for in time of need they fail us com-pletely. John of the Cross insists: "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 . This places us in our center of humility.''16 Detachment and humility go hand in hand. They cre-ate an openness to new ideas, a willingness to let go of the past an, d let the context of the present create us anew. The contextual pre-sent is the place of encounter with God. The past, while it may continue to influence present behavior, is in fact nonexistent, and the future evolves out of each passing moment. Detachment opens up roads less traveled; but, if we feel attached to our current road, we may all too readily say, "This is me; this is my self." We have heard people say, "I'm a one on the enneagram or an INFP on the Myers-Briggs, so you have to take me as I am." With such a self-fixated attitude, we will less likely hear God's invitation into the infinite realms of potential self-realization. If we conceive of the self as determined by the pathways already taken, a composite of past experiences, it will be hard to let go when unknown paths beckon us onward. As Rosenbaum and Dyckman put it, "The self, as an accumulation of experience, is a prison; the self as empty, as shimmering potentiality, is a prism that, depending on its positioning, gives forth many different colors."17 In his Spiritual Canticle, John of the Cross reminds us that the woods and thicket in which we find ourselves today have been planted by the hand of the Beloved.18 God's self revelation con-tinues right within the human story. The density and darkness of postmodernity--which holds that there is a multiplicity of per-spectives in the search for truth, which denies a stable foundation of self and of knowledge--can generate extremes of uncertainty. But the de-centered self of postmodernity has its own gift to offer. It invites us, beyond the limits of what can be known and con-trolled, into a self that is mystery, into God as ultimate Mystery. The temptation is either to stay blinded in self-righteous cling-ing to the limitations of human knowledge, or to despair before the uncertainties of life. Detachment itself can be the void of despair, unless it is grounded in faith and in the experience of God. The Dutch theologian Frans Jozef van Beeck, in his contem-porary. Catholic systematic-theology series titled God Encountered, Review for Religious reminds us that "the human subject., is naturally and radically 'de-centered': the mature person's true center does not repose in the person. Authentic persons live on the strength of unfulfillable desire . Grace graciously enables human persons, along with their world, to that most natural, yet most divine of all things: freely to move toward God in total faith and abandon."'gIn the midst of alternative versions of reality, and many different ways of being in the world, with the postmodern tolerance for a plethora of possibilities, choosing to believe in something is vital. We can be respectful of others with differing beliefs and still stand firm in the faith that is ours, a faith that centers the self in God. According to the philosopher Kierkegaard, faith is the pas-sionate embrace of objective uncertainty.2° Faith bypasses the postmodern self that interprets, even cre-ates, its own reality. It bypasses human reason to plunge us into mystical depths where being and nonbeing are held in cre-ative tension by God's abiding presence to human life. At this level Rahner rightly speaks of the experience of God and the experience of self as one.2' In his insis-tence upon the possibility open to all of an immediate experience of God, Rahner writes: "I am convinced that such an immediacy between God and the human person., is of greater significance today than ever before. All the societal supports of religion are collapsing and dying out in this secularized and pluralistic society. If, nonetheless, there is to be real Christian spirituality, .it cannot be kept alive and healthy by external helps, not even those which the church offers., but only through an ulti-mate, immediate encounter ofthe individual with God.''22 The Harvard psychologist Charles Verge names this place of encounter "the divine self.''23 Here the self and God mirror each other.24 The longing of the human heart to be someone issues from God, in whose image we are made and whose love holds us in being. "Beloved of God" defines the self. The Spiritual Canticle of John of the Cross is a text that writes the self of each one of us. In the Canticle, God's passionate love for the soul, enfleshed in Christ, The longing of the human heart to be someone issues from God, in whose image we are made and whose love holds us in being. Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought stirs a passionate response and gives meaning and direction to life right within the extremes of uncertainty that surround us. To be transformed into the image of Christ, to become like Christ, con-stitutes the heart of the divine promise. Faith enables us to embrace, with passion, the ultimate objec-tive uncertainty that the mystery of God revealed in Christ is. Christ lifts the self out of its predefined situatedness with its self-interest, into love for God and love for others. God's love trans-forms the will to power, to possession, to lust, into will to love. The detachment that faith calls forth issues in genuine love even for those who differ from us. Postmodernism stretches our capacity to love. Life today beckons toward a global embrace of love; love for those who may look different from us, love for those who may think differently from us, and love for those whose values may be different, even opposed to ours. Today, in the face of our differences, love holds the special challenge of intense, respectful listening, which can only happen if the heart is humble. A humble heart is a heart detached from pre-conceived ideas and personal prejudice. According to Teresa, humil-ity is truth, and our truth is that we are all, without exception, finite, fragile creatures capable of sin and that as such we always stand on the threshold of ongoing conversion. At the same time, integral to truth is that each one of us is always infinitely loved and possessed by God. Insofar as we fall short, God invites us to continued conversion and, even more, to divine transformation. Our challenge is to live Christ's gospel of love. Such love dissolves the disharmony of suspicion and distrust, it detaches us from self-interest, and it opens us to others in humility and genuine con-cern. As Rahner sagely asks, "Why should there be any need for deception, which serves to protect the self, if the self is loved, wel-comed, accepted, and reconciled-as-one with the Other?''2s Receiving the self from God in Christ, giving the self to others in love, and serving the other's interests as one's own are mirrorings of God, the divine self-giving Trinity, in whose image we are. In trinitarian theology, love constitutes the ground of selfhood. The gospel account of Jesus at table, encircled by the outcasts of his time, symbolizes the self today cast out from itself and in need of re-centering in Christ. From the horizon of Christ, we see the incompleteness of all that is human in relation to our total commitment to Christ, but in Christ we also see ourselves con-nected with the heart of all that is. Revie~v for Religious The archetypal psychology of James Hillman invites us to this from a psychological perspective. He would have us see ourselves and others as intimately connected with what he calls the soul of the world. Today conversion extends to claiming our part in what Hillman rightly names the sickness of the soul of the world. He claims that the world, because of its breakdown, is entering a new moment of consciousness by having its attention drawn to itself by means of its symptoms. It is becoming aware of itself as a psychic reality. We now encounter pathology in the psyche of politics and medicine, of language and design, of the food we eat. Sickness, says Hillman, is now "out there" as well as "in here.''26 To situate our individual self within the heart of the world not only challenges the rugged individualism of the modern self; it also invites a deeper awareness of our connectedness with others and with planet Earth, whose beauty and balance are today oppressed by our violent consumer world. The world itself is now a patient in need of hea~ling. Postmodernism offers a broader understanding of the redeeming mission of Christ. The entire cos-mos becomes the locus of redemption. Like us, our church and civilization and even planet are all in need of Christ's redeeming, healing, transforming love. Postmodernism is globalism; as such it is the half-discovered truth of the one unity that transcends all our differences. The language of postmodernism would be alien to Teresa, and yet, as she increasingly experienced herself as centered in God, her self became increasingly fluid. She seems astonished as the boundaries of the self continue to expand. There are many exam-pies, but in her Autobiography, her Vida (chap. 15, para. 7), Teresa, experiencing herself infused with the light of God, comments: "And I, though being what I am, seem to be another person." In 23.1, recalling how God freed her from herself, she writes that "here begins another new life." In 27.1, having placed herself com-pletely in the hands of God, she says, "l saw that I was a com-pletely different person." In 27.9 she says, "One of these graces is enough to change a soul completely.''27 In the context of these remarks, Teresa specifically mentions that she is growing in either love, detachment, or humility. At the height of her mystical life, Teresa has a profound expe-rience that, on the level of the divine self, reflects the empty, de-centered, but relational, contextual self of postmodernity. In 40.5 of her Vida, she writes: Septentber-October 1999 Seelaus ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought Once, while I was reciting with all the sisters the hours of the divine office, my soul suddenly became recollected; and it seemed to me to be like a brightly polished mirror, without any part on the back or sides or top or bottom that wasn't totally clear. In its center Christ our Lord was shown to me, in the way I usually see him. It seemed to me I saw him clearly in every part of my soul, as though in a mirror¯ And this mirror also--I don't know how to explain it--was com-pletely engraved upon the Lord Himself by means of a very loving communication I wouldn't know how to describe. ¯ I was given understanding of what it is for a soul to be in mortal sin. It amounts to clouding this mirror with mist and leaving it black; and thus this Lord cannot be revealed or seen, even though he is always present giving us being. In God, Teresa is connected with the world's sin, even as she affirms the ever present graciousness of God always giving us being within the darkness of sin. God is present in Teresa, not with power and might, but in love and with an invitation to self-transcendence that is as pertinent and penetrating for us today as it was for Teresa. In 3 7.11 of her l/ida, Teresa sounds as though she is living in our present age. After lamenting the foibles of her honor-bound society, with its elaborate system of etiquette, she says, "I don't know how it's all going to end up; even though I'm not y.et fifty, I've already seen so many changes I don't even know how to live anymore. What will they do who are now being born and will live for many years?" What will we do, we who have been born in this postmodern era, this era in which we live for many years, often into our nineties? Like Teresa, we do not know where it is all going to end up. Many would say that dark night engulfs our entire world and the times in which we live. The Carmelite tradition, however, assures us that God is in the night. John of the Cross eloquently describes the meaning of the soul's journey into the night of God. In this night of faith, we discover that love is the eye of God and we in turn are to see and interpret all things through the eyes of God. From this perspective we see that we are all one in God's love and that we bear one another's burdens. By the quality of our lives, Christ would have us be bearers of hope for all who suffer the travails of poverty, violence, injustice, and oppression. Right within the many forms of death that surround us is the seed of resurrec-tion impatient for new life. As we work with our differences in families, in our civic and Review for Religious church communities, we can dare to hope that our graced strug-gle will energize efforts toward understanding, toward finding common ground within the extremes of diversity that ctiaracterize our postmodern world. What we see in Teresa's writings is a devel-opment in her understanding of herself and of Christ, who com-panions her journey. Today,. as we find the self anew, we also find new ways of seeing Christ and the Christian mysteries right within our postmodern world, without getting caught in nostalgia for the past. Again, like Teresa, we do not know where it will all end up. What we do know is that the future is present, like a seed, in today's disconcerting moment. Our challenge is to live now, to live fully (but with humility, detachment, and love) what we say we believe. The sufferings of our time are not meaningless, as sec-ular postmodernity might see them. They are integral to the groan-ing of creation in labor until it brings forth redemption, the final triumph of God's love. At its deepest level the self is caught up in the incomprehensible mystery of Love we call God. Notes I James Hillman, The Thought of the Heart and the Soul of the World (Woodstock, Connecticut: Spring Publications, 1995). 2 Anthony C. Thiselton, Interpreting God and the Postmodern Self'. On Meaning, Manipulation, and Promise (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1998). 3 It also leaves me with a little anxiety that the many authors that I read be given due credit. As I prepare this paper for publication, I real-ize that much of what I read merged in my thinking as I internalized the material. 4 See The Way 36, no. 3 (July 1996): 175. s According to Anderson, Kant's work in the 18th century began with a problem that was as divisive in its time as the objectivist-con-structivist one is in ours--in this case a conflict between the British empiricists such as Locke and Hume, who saw thought as merely an instrument for understanding or using "real world experience," and the Continental philosophers such as Descartes and Leibniz, who saw the mind as the supreme organizer and discoverer of all reality. This was not a postmodern debate. All parties assumed that people could appre-hend unchanging and universal truth. Kant's attempt to resolve the con-flict was his own contribution to the search for "foundational" knowledge or reality--beyond historical and cultural relativism--but it pointed toward a view of the mind as a creator of reality. Kant describes the mind as an active organ that orders and forms the raw data of experience, 1-467-- September-October 1999 Seela~s ¯ The Self in Postmodern Thought imposing upon them its own structure; we do not experience things in themselves but rather representations of them. See Walter Truett Anderson, Reality Isn't What It Used to Be (San Francisco: Harper, 1990), pp. 59-60. 6 Anderson, Reality, p. 48. 7 See Robert Rosenbaum and John Dyckman, "Integrating Self and System: An Empty Intersection?" Family Process 34 (March 1995): 26- 27, and Kenneth J. Gergen, "The Social Construction of Self- Knowledge," in Daniel Kolak and Raymond Martin, Self and Identity: Contemporary Philosophical Issues (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1991), pp. 372-403. 8 See Max Charlesworth, "Postmodernism and Theology," The Way 36, no. 3 (July 1996): 188-202, for an interesting summary of the devel-opment of modern to postmodern thought. 9 Veronica Brady, "Postmodernism and the Spiritual Life," in The Way 36, no. 3 (July 1996): 181. 10 Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses (London: Viking, 1988), p. 313, quoted in Brady, "Postmodernism." 11 Walter Truett Anderson, Reality, p. 132. 12 Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," pp. 28-33. 13 Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," p. 26. 14 According to Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," pp. 35-37, acknowledging memory as constructive, as a present contextual experi-ence, rather than as retrieval of the past, helps to avoid difficulties such as the controversies over recovered memories of trauma and abuse, which are a sensitive contemporary issue. ~s Teresa of Avila, Way of Perfection (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1980), chap. 4, para. 4, p. 54. 16 The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1991), p. 150. 17 Rosenbaum and Dyckman, "Integrating," p. 37. is See his Spiritual Canticle, stanza 4, in Collected Works, p. 494. 19 Frans Jozef van Beeck, God Encountered: A Contemporary Catholic Systematic Theology, Vol. 2/1 (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), p. 238. 20 Soren Kierkegaard, "Truth Is Subjectivity," in Concluding Unscientific Postscript, ed. and trans. Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), pp. 169ff. "Truth is precisely the con° tradiction between the infinite passion of the individual's inwardness and the objective uncertainty. If I am capable of grasping God objectively, I do not believe, but precisely because I cannot do this I must believe. If I wish to preserve myself in faith, I must constantly be intent upon hold-ing fast the objective uncertainty, so as to remain out upon the deep, over seventy thousand fathoms of water, still preserving my faith . " Review for Religious 2~ See Karl Rahner, "Experience of Self and Experience of God," in Theological Investigations, vol. 13 (New York: Crossroad, 1983), pp. 122- 132. 22 See "The Immediate Experience of God in the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius of Loyola," in Karl Rahner in Dialogue, ed. Paul Imhof and Hubert Biallowons, trans. Harvey D. Egan (New York: Crossroad, 1986), p. 176. 20 See Charles Verge, "Foundations for a Spiritually Based Psychotherapy," in Religion and Family, ed. L. Burton (Hayworth Press, 1992), pp. 41-59. 24 See also her Autobiography in Collected Works of Teresa of Avila, Vol. 1, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1976), chap. 40, paras. 5 ~nd 10. Teresa here recounts two visions in which God and the soul mirror each other. See also Spiritual Canticle, stanza 12, in Collected Works of John of the Cross, pp. 515-519. 2s Quoted in Thiselton, Interpreting God, p. 160. z6 Hillman, Thought of the Heart, pp. 96-99. 27 With only a quick glance, I found chap. 20, paras. 23, 25, and 26- 28; chap. 21, paras. 8-9; and chap. 25, paras. 18-19--all referring to Teresa experiencing herself as a different person. The Salvation Cup I raise my fragile, broken cup. Accept it empty. Nothing I own can f!ll it. This is the cup of my truth, my faith in the promise, my salvation cup. Fill it with the wine of the Spirit, the river that makes fertile my barren ground, the ocean of never ending mystery. This is my cup. With it I offer my fragileness, my sinfulness and my broken promises. Heal me, Spirit of God, with theelixir of salvation. Virginia Skrdlant SHCJ September-October 1999 FREDERICK E. CROWE The "World" from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II An old proverb, once thought to be scriptural, warns us that where there is no understanding the people perish. Scriptural or not, the proverb itself is sound enough, and I would apply it to the institution of religious life. On all sides the question is heard: Is religious life dying? I refuse to believe that the God who gave us Anthony of Egypt, Benedict, Francis, Dominic, Ignatius, and so many others down to Mother Teresa is a God who intends religious life to perish. But I do believe in the need for under-standing, so that through our input God's operative grace may become cooperative. The Pattern of Human Thinking This essay is, then, an essay in understanding, but much more modest in scope than the preceding paragraph would suggest. It does not attempt td study religious life in its essence, its proper-ties, its various manifestations. It goes back rather to a prelimi-nary question and takes one small point for study: the Christian attitude toward what we call the "world." It is my hope that, if we gain some understanding on this background question, we will have a context for an eventual rethinking of religious life itself. Frederick E. Crowe SJ wrote "The Ignatian Exercises and Jesuit Spirituality" for our July-August 1994 issue. His address remains Lonergan Research Institute; 10 St. Mary Street, Suite 500; Toronto, Ontario; M4Y 1P9 Canada. Review for Religious My approach is historical rather than analytic. It examines the major transitions in the Christian attitude toward the world. It finds a dialectic running through history, a dialectic of to and fro that is not a mere alternation, but a progressively unfolding pat-tern in which each alternation is a step forward. It concludes with the way the church is finding new meaning for its role in the world, and proposes this as a new context in which religious too might find today the meaning of their consecrated life. The advantage of approaching history as a dialectic in the sense described is twofold. First, it may lift us out of our "crisis" mood, in which we think of our present situation as a spiritual fever, as a low point from which the patient may either die or recover and resume life as it was before the crisis. In a dialectical understanding, that is not the case. The low point is an opening on a new high. Second, a dialectic follows an intelligible pattern, with each step part of a natural, though not necessarily logical, sequence. This means that, if we can plot the sequence up to the present, we may be able to establish the direction of movement and discern the path we should take into the developing and unknown future. That "natural sequence" is the pattern of human thinking in time, the way the human mind naturally works as it progresses toward fuller and fuller understanding. In itself the pattern is sim-ple enough. Faced with a problem area of any complexity, the human mind will first find some specific factor of explanation, will tend to make that the whole explanation, but will eventually see that it is insufficient as a total view. It will then discover a generic factor and will in turn make that the full explanation, only to dis-cover that this too is insufficient as a total view. Eventually, in the dialectical oscillation of specific and generic, the mind will arrive at a higher viewpoint and hold the specific and the generic in the unity of a full understanding. The Pattern Illustrated That is terribly abstract. So, before applying it to the history of Christian thinking on the world, let me offer two concrete illus-trations that show the pattern as realized in actual history. First, the natural priority of the specific is easily illustrated in human lan-guage. "So in Homer there were words for such specific activities as glancing, peering, staring, but no generic word for seeing.''1 This is "both the strength and the weakness of'early language";~ it Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican ll The term vocation was appropriated to the religious life (as it commonly still is). has the power of the concrete, but is unable to reason in abstract or generic terms. And so in learning to write English we are told to search for the specific, for the concrete descriptive word, but in the strict reasoning of, say, a legal question we may have to resort to technical and abstract language. What is true of human language is true also of human think-ing, and so my second illustration is taken from the theology of our need for divine grace. Here there was first the discovery of a specific explana-tion, namely, the fall of our first parents. This was largely the focus of St. Augustine's thinking, which centered on the difference between their state before the fall and ours after it. This idea ran its course for about seven centuries, cul-minating in the position of Peter Lombard, namely, that there are in the grace-history of our human race "four states of human liberty: the earthly paradise, fallen man, man redeemed, and heaven.''3 Our need for divine grace is understood in relation to those states. Meanwhile, however, the insufficiency of this specific step was gradually becoming apparent. There was difficulty in defining lib-erty; the doctrine of merit tended to hang in mid air; even grace itself lacked a clear definition, for what is there that is not a free gift of God and therefore grace?4 The dialectic of ideas was prepar-ing theologians for the next step, the discovery of the generic the-orem of two orders with quite distinct status in the universe of being, the supernatural order and the natural: "not only was there the familiar series of grace, faith, charity, and merit, but also nature, reason, and the natural love of God.''5 This was largely the work of Philip the Chancellor in Paris in the early 1200s. It was an epoch-making discovery, and it put the question of our need for divine grace on an entirely new basis, releasing a whole series of developments. But so intoxicating was Philip's idea that theologians made a mistake exactly parallel to the one their predecessors made in the use of Augustine: the view that this was a complete and adequate explanation. Thomas Aquinas himself, in his early writings, shows hints of this one-sidedness, not giving sufficient attention to the moral impotence that is the result of Adam's fall. Nevertheless, it was Thomas who finally Review for Religious brought, the two factors, the specific and the generic, into unity. Peter Lombard's four states remain in the Thomist synthesis, but as applying to a specific question within the genus of the total divine plan.6 The Pattern Verified in the Specific Idea of "World" I have illustrated the way the human mind naturally works in time as it advances in understanding: first, a specific idea; then, exaggeration of this idea; next, a generic idea; exaggeration of this in its turn; eventually a synthesis. I believe the pattern is discernible also in the history of Christian thinking on the idea of the world. There too I find a specific and a generic factor, with the specific the first to be discovered and exploited beyond its potentiality, and the generic the next to be discovered and in its turn exploited beyond due measure. Again let us turn from the abstract to the concrete. Concretely the first step may be located in, or at least represented by, Anthony of Egypt. Toward the end of the 3rd century, "Anthony gave away his possessions, and devoted himself to a life of asceticism, and c. 285 retired completely into the desert . Towards the end of his life, the numbers of those who turned to the solitary life of the desert increased as the result of the secularization of the church.''7 It is possible to see this development in too simplistic a fash-ion, but at least one characteristic feature is clear: flight from the world. So it produced works with titles like De contemptu mundi (On contempt of the world). It filled Europe with hermitages, con-vents, and monasteries. For twelve centuries the idea ran its course with enormous impact on Christian v.alues, Christian living, Christian institutions.8 But it suffered the handicap of being a specific idea attempt-ing to provide a total view. For one example, the term vocation was appropriated to the religious life (as it commonly still is). In this respect the laity of the church and even the diocesan clergy were deemed to belong to a lower class: they did not have a "voca-tion." A reaction was inevitable, but it was centuries taking shape. Many diverse influences were at work promoting it. Its history is a complex interweaving of those influences. There were subver-sive along with legitimate movements. But what was positive and valid in the reaction, and quite natural and basic in the unfolding Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II dialectic, was the emergence of the generic factor in the concept of the world. The Pattern Verified in the Generic Idea of "World" The quite basic event, then, in the. emergence of the generic concept of the world was the discovery by Philip the Chancellor of the two orders: natural and supernatural. I used this earlier to illustrate the pattern of human thinking as it is found in theology (not only was there the familiar series of grace, faith, charity, and merit, but also nature, reason, an'd the natural love of God). I use it now as a basic explanatory factor for the new stage of our dialec-tic. That is no accident. It is an idea so fundamental that it is bound to appear in the history of any theological idea. It underpins all that I have to say in this section and the following. Every discovery makes its way against opposition from an estab-lishment. The recognition of the natural order had to be followed by a recognition of its rightful autonomy, and that could not fail to be a traumatic experience for the church. The history of this strug-gle need not detain us here. In essence the point is that the human race was not only created divine; it was also created human, with a need for hunting, fishing, farming, for song and dance, for math-ematics, science, philosophy, whatever lies within its potency for development. Without grace we are able, Thomas Aquinas would say, using his favorite example, to cultivate our fields and build our houses. But the full extent of that principle means that without grace we can marry and be given in marriage, form guilds among artisans, establish universities, function as nations, join in a world union of peoples, explore the boundaries of space. Further, the natural has its own laws. Natures operate uni-formly: we do not gather grapes from thorns or figs from thistles (Mr 7:17). And those natural laws can be isolated in thought and allowed to develop and flourish according to their own potential. For to be human is to learn: to learn that there are human tech-niques for producing good crops, human means for controlling nature, human means of self-government, human means for gain-ing wisdom and educating upcoming generations, and so on through the list. If, then, we take a broad view of the forest, not stopping to study individual trees, we can discern here the generic factor in Review for Religious the concept of the world, the needed complement to the specific factor provided by Anthony. This generic factor is the recogni-tion of the world as good in its own right. God did not create an evil universe, but made all things that they might have being and life (Ws 1:13-14; 1 Tm 4:4). That means that we can no longer be satisfied with the negative connotation of "flight from the world." There is a positive side to Anthony's strategy: its focus on the transcen-dent. The negative side is not repudiated, but it has to be seen in relation to that focus and has to be complemented by a generic view of the goodness of all creation. But the pattern of the dialectic suggests that this step too will be exaggerated, and that is exactly what happened. In the intoxication of this new idea, there was a widespread repudia-tion of the age-old flight from the world. Convents and monasteries were emptied; instead of contemptus mundi, there was a glorification of the secular.9 And so secularism arose: what was legitimate in the discovery of the natural, what was legitimate in the declaration of its auton-omy was magnified to an ism. What was a genetic idea that should have been brought into union with the specific paraded as the full explanation of the universe. A movement for the liberation of the secular became a secularism. The secular and the sacred have to do with human thought and feeling and the human use of creation. Uniting the Specific and the Generic: New Categories Christian thinking on th~ world has gone through the two phases inherent in the dialectic of human learning: the discovery and undue exploitation of a specific factor, followed by a reaction, and the discovery and undue exploitation of a generic factor, fol-lowed in its turn by a reaction. The current need is for the inte-gration of the two factors, and the categories that offer hope of that are the sacred and the secular. This pair of terms has crept into our discussion as related to, but not identical with, the supernatural and the natural. They need more careful definition. The natural and the supernatural provide the framework of creation; they are what philosophers would call Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican 11 the ontological constituents of the universe. But the secular and the sacred have to do with human thought and feeling and the human use of creation; they pertain to the cultural sphere rather than the ontological. The natural cannot be made supernatural: as Isaiah reports the word of the Lord, "my thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways" (Is 55:8, NEB). God is the wholly other. Grace perfects nature but does not destroy it. The natural, then, maintains its identity within the unity of God's creative plan. Catholic schools do not use a different mathematics to add and subtract, to divide and multiply. But while the natural remains what it was created to be, it can be invested with the aura of the supernatural, and in this sense the natural can be sacralized, become sacred. Bernard Lonergan provides a context in which to locate this cultural transformation: "The whole world of sense is to be. a token, a mystery, of God"; and again: "the world of sense is. a mystery that signifies God as we know him and symbolizes the fur-ther depths that lie beyond our comprehension.''~° This means that the secular, not only as a world but also in its various aspects, can in human thought and feeling be given the character of the sacred. So in primitive peoples there was a religious ritual for plant-ing and harvesting, for coming to puberty and marrying, for rev-erent remembering of the dead, and so on. All these activities are given a sacred aspect, though their natural basis allows for their secular use. But they are only potentially secular; they are not at first recognized to have that aspect. For the human race is funda-mentally religious, in the sense of being created with a religious consciousness, and has remained religious despite all the protests of unbelievers. One may say: In the beginning was the sacred. That is, what later became distinguished as the two zones of the sacred and the secular was at first all one zone, and it was sacred. Now, just as in the ontological sphere the natural component of the universe had to be recognized for what it was, the natural, so too in the sphere of the cultural the legitimately secular aspect had to escape from the domination of the sacred and assume its independent role in the plan of creation. In the course of this development, there was inevitably a conflict with the representa-tives of the sacred; inevitably too the secular won its rightful inde-pendence. "For this sacralized construct of man and his universe was impugned and impugned successfully by Copernicus, Galileo, Review for Relig4ous and Newton, by Darwin and Freud, and by the swarm of philoso-phies" at least since Descartes.~l So the struggle between natural and supernatural was repeated here, with the same exaggerations. The extremists were not con-tent to liberate the secular; they were driven also to desecrate the sacred. Concretely we might think of the relation between a sec-ular day of rest and the Lord's Day. There has been a strong ten-dency in this matter for the sacral to dictate to the secular, imposing a religious observance so strict as to frustrate the secu-lar purpose of a day of rest. But on the other side there is the des-ecration of the Lord's Day represented in past history by the extremists in the French Revolution and, some would say, by the present Sunday shopping. Uniting the Specific and the Generic: New Strategy Perhaps it is possible now to sketch the lines we might follow to achieve the desired integration of our specific and generic fac-tors. Our question is: How is the church to achieve the unity of Anthony and Aristotle, of Jerusalem and Athens, of the transcen-dent and the this-worldly, and now in particular of the sacred and the secular? Our suggestion is that what had been at first unwit-tingly sacralized was then wittingly secularized. Bur what was wit-tingly secularized can be wittingly resacralized for Christian purposes as the need arises. The pagans of Rome sacralized their meat by offering it to their gods, but the Christians could, in effect, desacralize these meats with a good conscience and, if they wished, resacralize them to their own purpose: "he who eats meat has the Lord in mind when he eats" (Rm 14:6). Again, a game of golf may be just what workers need on their day of secular rest, and present discipline in the church allows them to keep holy the Sabbath and still go golfing. But the new sacralization will be different. There will be a new understanding and a new humility. The sacred will not dictate to the secular in the latter's own sphere. It will be a sacralization through the intention of believers, using the natural end of a nat-ural entity to their religious purpose. They who eat meat have the Lord in mind when they eat; they who golf give thanks alike in the weekly Eucharist and in their outdoor exercise. A final point brings us back to larger issues: sacralization will not be merely extrinsic to the natural world. On this question Septentber-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "WorM"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican II Marie Dominique Chenu Op has some helpful remarks. He sees a purer presence of the church in the world creating a new kind of Christians in the world: missionaries of the gospel, and not the protectors of a civilization that they themselves have organized. The real vocation of lay people will be to show that Christianity does not despise the world, but lifts it up, consecrates it, and ful-fills it. And this new presence will unite intrinsically with the world, will make it a true partner, for the believers will read the signs of the times and through them discern the elements in the world and human history that are, as it were, naturally open to the sacred, offering the possibility of a new praeparatio evangelica. They now look for a spirituality that will integrate their life in a world that has become the main field where they must seek their sanctifica-tion. 12 Religious Life in the Ongoing Dialectic The focus of my attention has been the new path for the church in the world today, along the lines of the Vatican Council II document Gaudium et spes. We must be clear on the church in the new age before venturing to discuss religious life in the new age, for religious are Christian before they are religious; that is the order of the council in its document on the church, Lumen gen-tium.~ 3 But of course that means that the dialectic we have dis-cerned in history will apply also to the features of Christian living that religious have in common with all Christians. In that context we may anticipate the direction that applying the dialectic to religious life should take. We will understand how the religious state began as a "flight" from the "world," and we will realize that, as our conception and knowledge of that world has changed enormously, so also must our notion of flight from it. We have come a long way from St. Anthony of Egypt. I trust, never-theless, that we have not left him behind. With all reverence we may conceive an analogy with a hymn of Thomas Aquinas that the church uses in Holy Week: "The word of God, proceeding forth / Yet leaving not his Father's side." Our task is not to aban-don Anthony, but "proceeding forth" to retain his insight and transpose it into a realization of Vatican II's "church in the mod-ern world" and of religious life as it is to be lived in the coming millennium. Our task is to achieve in our own way the unity of the specific and ~he generic concepts of the world. Review for Religious Religious, then, will retain their vows, and the vows will have the meaning they had for Aquinas, a revocatio ab affectu temporalium, a withdrawal from affection for this world.14 They will have the meaning also that Anthony's flight from the world had for him in his time of secularization. And that meaning will remain even in the most sacred of times. A focus on the transcendent and the escha-tological state will necessarily involve the reevaluation of the world that the saints have always shown: not a contempt for the good of creation, but a love for the better to which the good is open. Correspondingly, there will be far more attention to the positive aspects of the vows. This movement has already begun, but it should undergo an extensive development. Similarly for the pos-itive counterpart of the "flight": contemplation of the divine. The cloistered will redouble attention to their contemplative role, and the active will redouble attention to their role as contemplatives in action. As we follow the dialectic in its future course, we would do well to consider our starting point. The first word in the gospel message is "repent" (Mt 4:17; and see the same in Mk 1:15, but with a preface, "The time has come . . ."). Our examination of conscience in this respect might ask in what degree, if any, we transferred to ourselves as perfection what belongs rather to the realm of the sacred. Medieval theologians argued at length about holiness and the more perfect state. Should the operative word be, not "holy" in the sense of personal virtue, but rather "sacred" in the sense of "consecrated to God"? Notes 1 Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1994 reprint), p. 87. 2 Lonergan, Method, p. 87. 3 Grace and Freedom: Operative Grace in the Thought of St. Thomas Aquinas (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1971), p. I0. 4 Grace and Freedom, pp. 14-15. s Grace and Freedom, pp. 15-16. 6 Bernard Lonergan, "Gratia Operans: A Study of Speculative Development in the Writings of St. Thomas Aquinas," doctoral disser-tation, Gregorian University, Rome, 1940, pp. 36-37. The preface and introduction, from which the dialectical pattern is taken, were published in Method: Journal of Lonergan Studies 3, no. 2 (October 1985): 9-46. The whole dissertation will he published in volume 1 of the Collected September-October 1999 Crowe ¯ The "World"from Anthony of Egypt to Vatican 11 Works of Bernard Lonergan, soon to appear from University of Toronto Press. This section of my article simply paraphrases Lonergan's position as set forth in that dissertation. 7 The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, ed. EL. Cross (London: Oxford University Press, 1958), article, "Antony, St., of Egypt." s See, for an example, G.J. Engelhardt, "The De contemptu mundi of Bernardus Morevalensis," Mediaeval Studies 22 (1960): 108-135; 26 (1964): 109-142; 29 (1967): 243-272. On the same topic Robert Bultot published widely in books and periodicals of the 1960s under the title La doctrine du m~pris du monde. 9 The turnaround had an interesting development in the Lutheran idea. Lutheranism "does not consider the call of the pastor any more sacred than the call of each Christian to witness to the lordship of Christ in his life and work. The universal priesthood of believers., makes the vocation of every man a holy calling"; see "Lutheranism" in A Handbook of Christian Theology (Cleveland and New York: World Publishing Company, 1958). Here too there is a valuable insight, namely, the vocation of every Christian, but it is not integrated into the dialectical development on the "world." 10 Bernard Lonergan, Insight: A Study of Human Understanding (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1992), pp. 689, 692. '~ Bernard Lonergan, "Sacralization and Secularization," unpublished MS of a 1974 lecture (originally given 1973), p. 23. My whole article relies heavily on this lecture. ~2 Spirituality in the Secular City (Concilium 19), pp. 114-115. I have paraphrased, with frequent verbatim quotations, two pages of "Desacralization and the Spiritual Life" by Claude J. Geffr~ op. ~3 See chap. 6, §§43-47, on religious, in Lumen gentium, the coun-cil's Dogmatic Constitution on the Church. 14 On "revocatio ab affectu temporalium," see Thomas Aquinas, De perfectione vitae spiritual#, chap. 6. Review for Religious JOEL GIALLANZA "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother": Being and Doing Brotherhood In Genesis, chapter 45, Joseph, one of Jacob's sons, has the delicate task of revealing his identity to his brothers. Having sold him into slavery several years before, they do not recognize him now in this powerful Egyptian official, second only to Pharaoh. In his self-revelation Joseph tells his brothers, "Come closer to me. I am your brother" (Gn 45:4). To be convincing, Joseph has to do more than tell his brothers who he is; he must demonstrate this through his attitudes and actions toward them. If he was truly to be their brother, then he had to do what brothers do. Only then was he gen-uinely recognizable to them. This story has a valuable reminder for religious brothers today. The name by which we identify our-selves in life and in the church reflects a rich and prophetic spirituality. "Brother" is not only a title, it is what we are. Even more, it is what we are called and committed to do among ourselves, among the people, and for the church. Also, it is ever a reality we must become: it cannot be fully and finally accompJished at the time of our religious profession. In my experience of the church and sodety today, several forces outside lay religious life often contribute Joel Giallanza csc wrote for us as recently as our May-June issue. His formation work continues at Charles Andersen Residence; 320 Brahan Boulevard; San Antonio, Texas 78215. Septe~nber-October 1999 brothers Giallanza ¯ "Come Closer. I Am Your Brotber" We need one another to be who we say we are and to do what we say we do by our very vocation. to making brothers unrecognizable, unknown, or unappreciated. One of them is that the church's administration emphasizes-- implicitly and explicitly--the clerical state as normative for min-istry and governance within the church, while brotherhood tends to become invisible or at least peripheral. Another is that in a vari-ety of cultures the term brother is used to designate seminarians and other candidates for presbyteral ordination. From this perspective brotherhood tends to be inter-preted as a transitional stage. These outside forces, how-ever, are not alone in influencing the public perception of brothers. Two internal forces come to mind. Sometimes we define our-selves or allow ourselves to be defined in negative terms, that is, by what we are not: unordained or nonclerical men religious. To go through life with "un" or "non" as the beginning of our self-iden-tity is not a good basis for explaining our vocation. It is even a less good basis for promoting vocations. And sometimes we do not reflect upon sufflciendy and articulate clearly our own identity, including the challenges we face simply because we dare to call ourselves brothers. Being Brother Immediately striking about the term brother is its relational character. It expresses both a specific relationship and a way of being in relationship. For us it assumes that we are willing to enter into relationships with others. It assumes we choose to be involved, not isolated. Though Vita consecrata does not speak extensively about the vocation of brothers in the church, it recognizes four relationships that are to characterize our way of life. These religious are called to be brothers of Christ, deeply united with him, "the firstborn among many brothers" (Rm 8:29); brothers to one another in mutual love and working together in the church in the same service of what is good; brothers to everyone in their witness to Christ's love for all, especially the lowliest, the neediest; brothers for a greater brotherhood in the church (Vita consecrata, §60). Review for Religious I would like to comment on these four relationships and on their prophetic implications. Brothers of the Lord Whatever else we may do, whatever our ministry, the rela-tionship that defines and shapes religious life is our relationship with the Lord. This must be the first and deepest of all our rela-tionships. Jesus says to the disciples, "You are my friends, if you do what I command you . I call you friends because I have made known to you everything I have learned from my Father" On 15:14-15). Our relationship with the Lord, our friendship with God, is rooted in knowing and doing what we have learned from the Lord. To be brothers of the Lord is to know the ways of God and to do what the Lord asks of us. To be brothers of the Lord, we must be people of discernment and people of fidelity. We must probe God's will ever deeper and then faithfully put into action all that we discover. We must be skilled in seeing God in all and in seeing all in God. We thereby proclaim and live the intimate closeness of God to this world, even when global events or personal experi-ences provide no evidence or apparently contrary evidence of such intimacy. Brothers with One Another Everything we say about ourselves and about our life together will not be authentic if we do not live in such a way that our com-mon life is marked by love, mutual care and concern, courtesy, hospitality, and a genuine interdependence. Jesus tells us that we will be recognized as his followers if we love one another (see Jn 13:3 5). Note that Jesus does not say what we would be recognized as, if we did not love one another. Could we become completely invisible, thereby rendering impossible any kind of recognition? To be brothers with one another in a religious community is much more than merely getting along; it must go beyond friendly tolerance. There are two important elements here. First, to be brothers with one anothdr is to recognize and accept that we do not live this way of life alone. We need one another to be who we say we are and to do what we say we do by our very vocation. There must be a mutuality and an interdependence among us by which we September-October 1999 Giallanza ¯ "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother" strengthen and support one another. Second, to be brothers with one another is apostolic. The quality of our life together commu-nicates something about God's presence and activity in our world. In some areas of the world, we may be the only witnesses people see, the only evidenc~ they have that God is alive and active in their lives and in their culture and society. Brothers to the People Our very title brothers excludes distinctions among us. Nationality, culture, ethnic heritage, education, ministry, natural and acquired skills--all these are gifts that are to unite us, not dif-ferences to be made into walls of division among us. So too our presence among the people must communicate without compro-mise that we make no distinctions, that we welcome and are hos-pitable to all people. To be brothers to the people also influences the way we approach ministry, whatever our ministry. Our apostolic activity among the people must be a model and a means of unity for them. We must be skilled in guiding people to work together, to appre-ciate one another's gifts, and to share those gifts with one another for the good of all. Regardless of the specific nature of our min-istry, this task of facilitating union among the people is a primary aspect of our mission and message as brothers in the church and society today. Brothers for the Church There are many unnecessary distinctions in our church today. Among the most dominant are those between women and men, between lay and ordained persons. Our presence and activity in the church must strive to communicate a perspective free of the kinds of distinctions that can and sometimes do deteriorate into divisions. To be brothers for the church is to live and proclaim, in St. Paul's terms, "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male 6r female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). We know it was a risk for St. Paul to preach such a message two thousand years ago. In truth, it is still a risk to preach this today precisely because people can and do establish their identity in distinctions. Any message that seeks to Review for Religious remove distinctions tends to disrupt that identity, thereby stimu-lating responses that range from simple admonition to sharp antag-onism. I believe it is part of the mission of brothers in the church today to preach and to live such a message regardless of the con-sequences. Doing What Brothers Do What I have said so far pertains to being brothers, pertains to our basic identity as lay religious in the church and society. To be brothers of the Lord, with one another, to the people, and for the church will have a definite influence on our doing what brothers do. Doing what brothers do is the prophetic dimension of our life as lay religious. In terms of these four basic relationships, what do we do as brothers? Through our relationship to the Lord, we demonstrate the possibility of living the example of Jesus in today's world. Jesus' example of selflessness, of compassion, of service to others is not popular today. We observe the sustained promotion and tenacity of an individualism which condones and constructs self-contained and closed styles of life that do not readily respond to the influence or needs of others. The danger is that Jesus' example could be placed on the shelf of items that are no longer realistic or useful for our world: items that are fine for museums of ancient artifacts, but not really relevant for everyday life in contemporary culture. To do what brothers do is a clear expression of the importance, necessity, and urgency of Jesus' example for today. Through our relationship with one another, we demonstrate the possibility of love and reconciliation. In a world where self-ishness and self-containment become the ways of relating to one another, love and reconciliation become ever more rare. Personal histories, past mistakes, and present weaknesses become conve-nient excuses for not reaching beyond ourselves to love, to for-give, to be reconciled with others. And yet it is only through our humanity--with our histories and mistakes and weaknesses--that we can love one another. To do what brothers do means commit-ting ourselves to love and forgive and reconcile, and to take up whatever means are necessary to live that commitment every day. Through our relationship to the people, we demonstrate the possibility of living in peace and unity. The rich diversity repre-sented in social, political, religious, cultural, and ethnic differ- September-October 1999 Giallanza ¯ "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother" ences is too often used as a basis for creating divisions among peo-ple. And as the barriers supporting those divisions become stronger, mutual destruction appears more effective and efficient than coop-erative dialogue. Conflict, violence, war then become the usual ways of dealing with differences in life. To do what brothers do means making every effort to show that the differences among people are graces and blessings to be celebrated, not burdens and bothers to be shunned. Through our brotherly relationship with the church, we demonstrate the possibility of living and ministering in equality. This equality is not uniformity; there can and must be distinctions among the many necessary ministries within the church. The important and imperative idea here is to help maintain the link between those many ministries and the common good of the Body of Christ. To create and then vindicate situations in which peo-ple are excluded or treated slightingly is not acceptable. Ignoring such situations is also not acceptable. To do what brothers do means pointing out injustices and inconsistencies--in our society, but most especially in our church. We will not be popular for iden-tifying such realities, but to neglect doing so would contradict what we profess to be and to do. The Haunting Question Male lay religious are often confronted with the simple but haunting question "What is a brother?" Brothers themselves, as well as other church ministers, struggle with formulating a satis-factory response. I do not believe that any response, however elo-quent and theologically sound, will ever be satisfactory. Indeed, it cannot be. If being a brother and doing what brothers do is at heart a matter of relationship, then our identity as brothers will be found in our actions, in our witness and our way of relating to the Lord, to one another, to others, and to the church. Thus, the only worthy answer to "What is a brother?" is simply "Watch us! Watch what we do, how we behave. Observe our love, care, concern, com-passion. Watch us. Then you will see and know what being a brother is." Are we willing to make that response? Will the integrity, consistency, and quality of our lives withstand such close scrutiny? The precedent for this response has been established already. When asked by John the Baptist's disciples, "Are you the one who Review for Religious is to come, or are we to wait for another?" Jesus responds, "Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the leper~ are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them" (Mt 11:3- 5). Jesus' response invites a simple and direct method: observe, then report what you see. Could it be that we work to enhance the eloquence of our language and the soundness of our theology in responding to "What is a brother?" because we hesitate to say "Watch us"? Obviously, to invite close observation is to imply an integrity and a quality of life that are beyond question or com-promise. Writing to the Corinthians, St. Paul is boldly explicit in continuing Jesus' precedent: "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ" (1 Co 11:1). In fact, no less than seven times does Paul make this recommendation in his correspon-dence with the early Christian commu-nities (see 1 Co 4:16 and 11:1; Ph 3:17 and 4:19; 1 Th 1:6; 2 Th 3:7 and 9). We might wince at the bluntness--almost arrogance--of his recommendation. Nevertheless, the only way to avoid rel-egating Jesus' example to the realm of theoretical ideals is by a practical demonstration of it. Only a living example can accomplish that demonstration effectively. Brothers must live in such a way that we can make this Pauline recommendation with confidence and integrity. If we believe that our God is incarnational, then the example of our own lives must be the first of all our responses to the simple question "What is a brother?" Again, we must ask ourselves about our willingness and ability to make that response. Any other response, whether from an individual religious or froma general chapter, will fall short of the convincing and transforming power inherent in a living example. Being brothers and doing what brothers do involve decisions regarding a belief and a behavior. The belief is that the example of our brotherhood, as a reflection of Jesus' own, is necessary for society and for the church today--and tomorrow. The behavior is our effort to follow Jesus with integri.ty, simplicity, and fidelity. Through our brotherly .relationship with the church, we demonstrate the possibility Of living and ministering in equality. September-October 1999 Giallanza * "Come Closer. I Am Your Brother" This belief and behavior must stem from deliberate decisions, for they will not and cannot come into being by themselves. If they do not find explicit expression in our daily lives and activities, then they do not exist at all. If we cannot invite the world to "Watch us" when we are asked about the identity and meaning of our life as brothers, then we have only words. Such words die in thin air without living exam-ples to certify their truth. Action verifies articulations; witness confirms words. When action and witness are separated from artic-ulations and words, credibility is compromised. To speak and to act, together, must constitute our effort to define who and what we are as religious brothers and, being brothers, what we do. All else is shifting sand. All else contributes to the continued invisibility of religious brothers within the church and society. Being and Doing To be brothers and to do what brothers do are inseparable. We must strive for consistency in our life so that what we per-ceive and profess ourselves to be and what we do become a single reality. Otherwise we compromise the quality of any prophetic presence and activity we would have in the world. To be and to do as brothers of the Lord, we must be men of integrity, firmly rooted in the Lord. To be and to do as brothers with one another, we must be men of communion, who willingly choose the interdependence necessary for a healthy and whole life. To be and to do as brothers to others, we must be men of mis-sion, who love others through compassion and service. To be and to do as brothers for the church, we must be men willing to pro-vide challenge, whose commitment to the church enables us to question its inconsistencies even as we continue to love it. In the Book of Genesis, the challenge confronting Joseph is both to reveal his identity and to witness to the truth of that rev-elation. He begins with a simple invitation, "Come closer to me." He invites closer scrutiny and careful listening, confident that he will be recognized and accepted for who and what he claims to be. We religious brothers, by the very nature of our vocation, must extend the same invitation in all our relationships. The witness of our integrity, our sense of communion and mission, and the chal-lenge we present will confirm or contradict the truth of what we claim to be and profess to do. Vita consecrata says that brothers participate in the "mission of proclaiming the gospel and bearing witness to it with charity in everyday life" (§60). Such proclamation and such witness are responsibilities we bear and services we provide. They are the heart of our invitation to "Watch us"--to "Come closer" and see ¯. "I am your brother." Questions for Personal and Communal Reflection These brief reflections need fi~rther refinement from the particular cultures and contexts in which brothers live and minister around the world today. In fact, the most sound theologies of religious brotherhood today will conte from within those cultures and contexts. Generic theologies of religious life, by attempting to speak to everyone, run the risk of speaking to no one. As we continue to reflect on and discuss various dimensions of our religious life, we must remain ever attentive to the specific culture and context in which we live and minis-ter. The following questions are offered as a starting point for individuals and for communities. For us as brothers of the Lord, what aspects of Jesus' example and teaching are particularly striking and significant, given the heritage of our religious congregation and the particular culture in which we live and minister? As brothers with one another, what do we desire people to see in us through our life together? What do we believe our wimess communicates to people? What evidence do we have to support that belief?. As brothers to the people, what means do we use to foster peace and unity among them? How do our ministries serve towards dialogue and reconciliation? As brothers for the church, what efforts do we or could we make in our local area to emphasize the equality of persons within the church? With what specific challenges does our heritage as a congregation con-front the church? In which aspects of our life are we confident in saying "Come closer"? In which aspects of our life fire we hesitant about saying "Watch us" in response to people's questions about our vocation? What are the principal gifts we bring as brothers to this cultural set-ring? What are the principal social and ecclesial challenges confronting us today as brothers in this cultural setting? What is the most attractive quality about our religious life in this cultural setting? What is least attractive? What means would be effective in the particular culture where we live and minister for educating the people and the church about the voca-tion of brothers? In addition to the witness of our life, what are effective strategies for promoting vocations to religious brotherhood today? Septentber-October 1999 PAUL BEDNARCZYK Religious Brothers: One Vocation Director's Perspective Religious congregations of brothers can no longer ignore the question of new membership. The "vocation crisis" is staring us in the face. We can debate more effective governmen-tal structures, we can plan new mission orientations, and we can write more documents about solidarity with the poor, but, unless new members join our communities, what will it all mean fifty years from now? The membership crunch seems to be hitting home more now than ever. In many dioceses and religious congregations, the vocation question has been moved to the forefront. At their annual national meeting three years ago, the United States bishops agreed on a comprehensive strategy for vocations to the priesthood and reli-gious life. In June 1998 the U.S. bishops' committee on vocations sponsored a national symposium that had an overwhelming atten-dance. In addition, both the men's and women's religious leader-ship conferences--the Conferences of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM), the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), and the Conference of Major Superiors of Women Religious (CMSWR)--are exploring how leadership corporately can be more active in promoting the priesthood and religious life. For the past thirty-some years, we have quietly and sometimes unconsciously watched more brothers leave our corigregations than Paul Bednarczyk CSC, of his congregation's eastern province, first published this article in Horizon, a journal for vocation directors. His address is Congregation of Holy Cross; 85 Overlook Circle; New Rochelle, New York 10804. Review for Religious enter them. We prayed for vocations, and many communities even maintained their commitment to a full-time vocation director, but few prospects have joined our prenovitiate programs. Although over the years there was a general concern about the lack of new members, still--because numbers of brothers remained in the "work force"--we felt somewhat comfortable regarding our num-bers. These days are now gone. Our congregations are aging, men are retiring, and fewer members remain in full-time ministry. Our younger members continue to be few. We must confront the new-membership question. Much has been written about societal factors that create a cli-mate unfavorable to religious vocations. Family and neighborhood structures are no longer what they once were. We are witnessing changing definitions of family: single-parent homes, blended fam-ilies, children being raised by gay or lesbian couples. In addition, physical, sexual, drug, and alcohol abuse have greatly impacted the trust and stability that families need. Individualism and mate-rialism have consumed our American culture. Authority is looked upon cynically and institutions are considered suspect. Combine that with young people's inability or reluctance to make commit-ments, and religious vocations become an uphill battle. The changing face of the American Catholic and the tension between Catholic teaching and American values also have an impact on the numbers of religious vocations. The rising multi-culturalism of U.S. Catholics challenges us. Many Hispanic peo-ple continue to abandon the Catholic faith of their ancestors for fundamental and evangelical groups. Polls claim that many Catholics believe that the church's teaching on contraception, homosexuality, and premarital sex is outdated. Although young adults in general do not see the difference between clerical and religious celibacy, they will say that celibacy is the primary rea-son why they would not be a priest or a religious. Likewise, given our democratic values, American Catholics must reconcile them-selves with a church that does not function democratically. I believe it important to mention these factors at the outset because, although they are beyond our control, they have an effect on our religious-vocation promotion. In this paper I intend to share my own reflections on why fewer people are choosing to be brothers. Although I belong to the Congregation of Holy Cross, I have shared some of these ideas with brothers in other religious congregations. We are not alone in our struggle. After five years Septentber-October 1999 Bednarczyk ¯ Religious Brothers as vocation director, I offer thoughts I have gleaned from numer-ous vocation talks I have heard and given, from many meetings and discussions withadolescents and young adults, from direct-ing men and women on both personal and group discernment retreats, and from my association with other vocation directors both regionally and nationally. 492 A Question of Visibility We religious brothers are invisible. To put it more precisely, people generally have no clear idea about who or what we are. I say this neither cavalierly nor despairingly, but as simple truth. Part of this is the reality that we are fewer in number. In the United States, according to thd 1998 official Catholic Directory, the number of religious brothers dropped in 1997-98 by 178, resulting in a national total of 6115. Of course, many of these are retired or infirm and therefore no longer engaged in part- or full-time min-istry- and so are even more invisible. Brothers in teaching congregations cannot assume that the freshmen entering our high schools in September know what a religious brother is. Even though some come to us from Catholic grade schools, many have not met a religious brother or sister and know little or nothing about religious life. If they do have a min-imal understanding oic our life, most likely their perceptions have been influenced by what they see in the media, which is often dis-torted, stereotyped, and scandal ridden. Their parents, too, a generation that had greater exposure to religious in classrooms and parishes, have limited understandings of religious life. They may have romanticized notions of who we once were or, on the other hand, may endlessly repeat stories of brothers and sisters maintaining uncompromising discipline and inflicting harsh corporal punishments. In addition, people are con-fused by the polarization of the various religious lifestyles. How do lay people find a balance among various extreme "liberal" and "conservative" positions taken by religious men and women? How do they understand community when the religious they know live in private apartments or are in scattered communities of twos and threes? Although there are justifications for various places on the spectrum, the average persons in the pews just do not understand. I think it safe to say that they are confused, just as we are at times. The question of visibility is more complex than the reality of Review for Relig~o~!s fewer members. It is, I believe, also related to a greater issue in the church. Without a doubt, within the past twenty years our church has become increasingly clerical. At a time when there are fewer and fewer priests, lay religious life is not always promoted in the church as enthusiastically or emphatically as it could be. In litur-gies all of us have heard public prayers for vocations to the priest-hood and privately wondered why we were not also praying for vocations to the religious life. I do not think these omissions are intentional. When I have respectfully asked presiders to include in their future prayers of petition a mention of an increase in candi-dates for religious life as well, I was usually met with sincere apolo-gies and a response such as "To tell you the truth, I didn't even think of it." Such admitted forgetfulness is disarming, but the response remains a telling one. Another reality is that many bishops and priests are "gun shy" of religious men and women. Since many of their dealings with us have been confrontational and neg-ative, it seems they may be choosing to either ignore or avoid us in order to avoid future hostile situa-tions. Likewise, we religious have suffered from our own antago-nisms with the clergy and the hierarchy, and we too may choose to either ignore or avoid them. My point is not to say that we are right and they are wrong, but rather that stereotypes and false generalizations held by either party only lead to further break-downs in communication and in understanding one another's voca-tions in the church. If we assume an "us and them" mentality, we add to the divisiveness that already exists here and there in our church, and it is the church, the people of God, that ultimately suffers from such internal strife. To pin the blame of our invisibility solely on the church would be both unjust and inaccurate. We brothers must own the fact that some of us have chosen to be invisible. In the neighborhoods of some of our communities, I would conjecture that most of the neighbors are unaware that there is a religious community of men living on their block. Instead of participating in the life of our local parish community, some of us have chosen instead to par-ticipate anonymously in a nearby parish that may provide a better liturgy or choir. At a time when many teaching congregations have made concerted and successful efforts at connecting the mission of We religious brothers are invisible. September-October 1999 Bednarczyk ¯ Religious Brotbers their schools with the mission and charism of their community, some brothers choose not to participate in school activities, often to the dismay and wonder of lay colleagues, parents, and alumni. Although reasons for these examples may be acceptable to us, we must realize that such choices promote further invisibility and anonymity, something which we brothers can no longer afford. Without a public presence, our hope for future vocations is dim. The old clich~ has much truth: "Out of sight, out of mind." Not being part of the clerical hierarchy has given us a unique freedom that is comfortable. I heard one brother say about the hierarchy: "It's good that they forget about us--this way they leave us alone!" We come to a religious community not to dis-tance ourselves from the existing tensions or authority in the institutional church, nor to find a supportive haven for our anger against church authority, nor, for that matter, to promote our own church agenda. As consecrated religious we are men of the church and in the church. Our vocation by its very nature calls us to deepen our baptismal commitment and our relationship with the people of God. The faithful see us and look to us for who and what we are: men who through our vows have consecrated ourselves totally to God and to service within the church. They expect us to be integral to the church: when they do not see this, they are surprised and confused. If we are going to welcome men into our communities, I believe that we must all realistically deal with our feelings and beliefs about the church of today--not the church of yesterday or tomorrow, but the church of today in all of its glory and weakness. Generational Differences The majority of us have lived through the social, political, and ecclesial turbulence of the 1960s. We experienced the devastation of political assassinations, the power of the people in working for justice, and the sense of betrayal and shame that resulted from Watergate. We mourned the violence and casualties of the Vietnam War and of the racial wars that were erupting in our city streets. We underwent our own personal and spiritual transformations after the drastic changes set in motion by the Second Vatican Council. Suddenly our equilibrium was shaken. We experienced a shift in values from uniformity to diversity, from authoritarianism to collegiality, from commonality to individuality. Review for Religious We dealt with these dramatic events and changes in a variety of ways. Some simply left religious life. It seems to have been a good decision for some, once they discovered they .may have become brothers for the wrong reasons. On the other hand, oth-ers left and we still wonder why. Regarding these departures we still grieve. And, into the bargain, some of us have stayed. What are our reasons for remaining? After these radical shifts in church, society, and culture, has our dependence upon God and one another deepened, or have we learned instead to place more trust in our own self and in our material security? Have our vows increased our joy and appreciation for life, or have they regretfully only made our life burdensome? Do we face the uncertainty of the future with excitement and hope, or with cynicism and despair? If we are to witness to an attractive lifestyle option, we must answer these questions honestly and reexamine our own commitment to religious life. Unlike many of us who were brought up with the order and constancy of a triumphal church, our young people today have experienced conflicting messages from a church in transition, and they seek, simply, truth. In the face of New Age spirituality and watered-down Christianity, there are those who, in their desire to know more of what it means to be Catholic, resort to tangible, traditionally Catholic symbols. I find it fascinating that Exposition and Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament is making a comeback on college campuses. In the midst of the noise and rush of their aca-demic lives, students appreciate the hour of silence in the pres-ence of Mystery. Similarly, young adults are rediscovering the virtue of Mary, and have found the rosary to be an attractive form of prayer that is identifiably Catholic. Some ofos may be quick to categorize these young people as conservative or wacky, but these are students who volunteer weekly at local soup kitchens and par-ticipate in "alternative" spring breaks with Habitat for Humanity. They are also class officers, athletes, and students on the dean's list. As I have discovered, our younger people defy the neat and tight boxes in which we tend to categorize them. Have our VOWS increased our joy and appreciation for life, or have they regretfully only made our life burdensome? Septentber-October 1999 Bednarczyk ¯ Relig4ous Brothers To live with the ideals, hopes, and dreams of the young is inconvenient and at times even uncomfortable. In my meetings with men who are exploring a vocation, I have found that it is not because of ministry, education, or social-justice convictions that they are drawn to religious life. Our church has evolved to where, if this were their primary desire, they could eas-ily do this in a Catholic institution as laypersons. They are com-ing to us first and foremost for the religious life itself. To live in the secular world as a committed Christian espousing Catholic values is difficult for them. They admit their need for a community of like-minded individuals who could strengthen their love for God and their Catholic convic-tions. They are not looking for just a nice group of people who do good work. They are looking for men who know and can lead them to God and who can give them a sense of hope in a world that has become increasingly pessimistic and destructive. They want to pray together, share their faith, and bring the Good News to people through their ministry. They acknowledge the Eucharist as central to our faith, and they have devotion to it. Since they often come from an unchurched, nontraditional back-ground, they seek structure and definition. From our community perspective, that is quite an order to fill! Some of you who are reading this are probably wincing and saying, "I thought we got away from that years ago!" To put it simply, I believe we find ourselves in the middle of a generation gap. Thirty years ago some brothers retained their habits, sat in their pews, and looked with distaste upon those who wore jeans and colored shirts and prayed on throw pillows. They thought that, for sure, religious life was quickly going down the tubes. The younger brothers, however, challenged the older brothers to renew their zeal for religious life by adapting to a different lifestyle, one that was based more on shared expressions of faith and on more interpersonal, communal living. Likewise, the younger members were taught by the elders to appreciate the tradition of our life and consequently were enriched by their fidelity to their vows in the face of change. Since some of us have lost a younger generation in our con-gregations, we have forgotten what it is like to be challenged by the young. The lively community dynamic that occurs with the mix- Review for Religious ture of generations--the elderly, the middle-aged, the young--does not happen in many of our local communities. As a result, many of us have grown comfortable with one another and in our life together. For the majority of us, the mutual challenges and exchanges that we all remember from our earlier years and that occur naturally between the young and old do not happen anymore. At forty-one years old, I am still considered one of the "young" brothers in my community. I realize that much of my religious life has been lived with men older than myself. Although I am thank-ful for the benefit of their example and wisdom, as I enter my own midlife I realize that I have been deprived of living with the con-tagious energy and enthusiasm of much younger religious. I know that I need at times to be challenged to think in new ways and to experience life differently. Most of us are middle-aged or older. If we are to have a newer generation following us, we must--even if it becomes increasingly more difficult as we age--be open to the renewal of our basic val-ues: prayer, community, and lifestyle. Ironically, those who are considering religious life look for deeper community experiences while some veterans of thirty or forty years say they are tired of the routine and demands in community. How do we bridge this gap? To live with the ideals, hopes, and dreams of the young is incon-venient and at times even uncomfortable, but I know of no other way. Although youthful idealism may need some tempering, we must admit that at least it is refreshing. We have now become the "older" brothers of yesterday, and, like the older ones of thirty years ago, we too are invited to new ways of thinking and being as we look to the next generation in religious life. I do not believe that age has to be a deterring factor. When I hosted discernment retreats for prospective candidates at our retire-ment facility, I would invite three of our elderly brothers to tell their vocation stories. The combined witness of almost two hundred years of faithful religious life is better than any vocation brochure I could ever design! Their authentic fulfillment in Holy Cross and their continuing joy and vitality were always evidence to these interested men that this life can be lived and can be lived well. Our young people look to their elders for inspiration. They hunger for the wisdom that comes from living a prayerful and reflective life with God. If, however, they see stagnation, apathy, and cynicism, they are left disillusioned and wanting. For many of us, our lives as religious have been deeply enriching and grace filled, and yet some September-October 1999 Bednarczyk * ReligiousBrotbers of us are reluctant to share these experiences with each other. We underestimate at times the power of our stories. In many religious congregations it has been the tradition to respond to "the signs of the times" and to the contemporary needs of the church. I maintain that we need to continue this spirit of openness not only to our mission and ministries, but also to our religious lives as well. The Answer Is in the Present I do not claim to have the answers for the future. To be truth-ful, my worry is not for the future, nor is it for the past. It is the present that is my concern. We can only theorize about the future, as we can only reminisce about the past. Such intellectual exer-cises tend to distance us from the responsibility of making neces-sary choices about our lives and our community in the present. In general, given the societal changes and challenges discussed above, some recerit shifts in our culture seem to coalesce with our lives as religious brothers. For example, our society displays a renewed interest in spirituality. Celebrities from Oprah to Madonna have made daily meditation chic again! With the pro-liferation of self-help and support groups for every issue imagin-able, people long for connection and belonging. They desire "to share their story" and to be validated by a group. Corporations are supportive of community service, and some school systems have included service components in their curricula. As a result, volunteerism is at an all-time high. Ironically, many authors are making lots of money with their best-selling books on how to sim-plify one's lifestyle. It would seem that religious brotherhood would somehow fit into this picture. Our life is a wonderful secret that needs to be shared more now than ever before. As religious brothers we bring, I believe, a special gift to the church. Our faith teaches us about a God whose love is uncondi-tional and whose mercy is unlimited. If faithfully and genuinely lived, our vows attest that fulfillment is to be found more in the transcendent than in the transitory. Where division and broken relationships characterize many families and marriages, our com-mitment to community life, despite its inherent struggles, myste-riously witnesses to welcome, order, acceptance, and equality. I have read many books and articles detailing futures for reli-gious life in temporary vowed commitments, lay associate mem- Review for Religious bership, satellite communities, blended communities, and so forth. All of that makes for interesting reading and good discussion, but I return to the question: What about now? How do we live now the vows we professed, however many years ago? Do we do so with the passion, zeal, and love of our early years? I do not believe that the answer to the challenges of our pre-sent situation is as simple as the reconstruction of past external structures. Our lives are much more complex today than they were thirty years ago. No one can deny that our traditional structures served us well, considering the church and spirituality of the time, but it would be naive to expect the former ways to meet our con-temporary needs. We can romanticize about the past, but we know that it is impossible to turn the clock back. I am, however, not convinced--at least in my own congrega-tion- that we are at present compelled to create new models and forms of vowed religious life. We do not need to reinvent the wheel. We need to insure that the wheel we already have is on the right track. Besides, since Vatican II, a number of experimental lay and religious communities have already been formed, imple-menting exciting new models of lifestyle and commitment. How they will fare in the future, only time will tell. I am convinced that as brothers we need to reclaim who and what we are. We are men of the church vowed to a life of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. We commit ourselves to a life of prayer and mission with each other in community. Given today's society and culture, these core values are what make us countercultural. Our vows are meant to be lived joyfully, with hope. This life was meant to be lived in relationship with God and with one another. Our challenging times invite us to probe and to enter more deeply into the essence of our vows and the mysterious grace that comes with this life. I believe in the gift of religious life, and particularly in the gift of religious brotherhood. I want a future for us because I believe the church would b6 lacking without us. Knowing how much I have been enriched by my own vocation to Holy Cross, I desire to share this gift with a new generation of religious. I am sure that the majority of members in our communities desires the same, but to do this requires conversion and a courageous open-ness to the Spirit that speaks to us today--and not yesterday and not tomorrow. [--z~00 September-October 1999 AVIS CLENDENEN II On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming journeying It has been sixteen years since I requested and received a dispensation from my religious vows. The following reflection explores--from ethical, psychological, and theological perspectives-- the experience of malting and breaking promises and leaving the vowed religious life. Principally I will be drawing upon the ethical con-siderafions of Sister Margaret Farley RSM, the psycho-logical insights of Dr. Carl Rogers, and the theological depth of Father Karl Rahner SJ. These pages reveal a slice of an experience shared by many--that is, the mak-ing of a religious commitment, living in a vowed reli-gious community for years, developing bonds of trust and friendship, experiencing a crisis of fidelity, discov-ering the personal inability/choice to sustain the orig-inal commitment, and ultimately breaking the commitment and leaving religious life. A suspicion I had as I thought about examining the psychology and theology behind the making and break-ing of promises was that Rogers and Rahner had more than their first names in common. I sensed they shared a fundamental understanding of the human person, the Avis Clendenen PhD, associate professor of religious stud-ies and director of the Pastoral Ministry Institute, teaches pastoral theology and ministry at Saint Xavier University in Chicago, where she can be reached: 3700 West |03rd Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Revie~v for Religimts human dilemma, and the graced and flawed human quest of becom-ing whole and free. The following reflection reveals some signif-icant connections between Rogerian psychology and Rahnerian theology and offers a way of viewing the painful process of leave-taking and becoming. The painful and hopeful contours of this all-too-familiar experience can be traversed again in openness to the possibility of deeper revelations about the choices we make that sustain our word of love. Sixteen years from my departure after a thirteen-year commitment gives me perspective and a desire to return and examine the process of making promises, breaking promises, and becoming. In the fall of 1969 at nineteen years of age I entered the Sisters of Mercy. My letter of request to enter was all of two paragraphs composed by a nineteen-year-old touched and transformed, as late teens can be, by the turbulent events of the 1960s: My reason for choosing religious life as my way of life is because this in the only life that makes sense to me, as an individual. I want to express my life as a commitment of love to God and His Church. I am not quite sure why there is an attraction to the Mercy order in particular, but I believe my potential for giving and receiving, of freedom and ful-fillment, lie within this community. By the time I would profess my final vows in 1978, all refer-ences to God in the masculine pronoun were to be stricken from my vocabulary. By 1978 1 would be a graduate of the Jesuit School of Theology, having been the first woman admitted to its master-of- divinity program. Throughout the 1970s I struggled with the weight of a patriarchal church, including the graces and conflicts surrounding the inclusion of women in all ministries of the church. I would, over the expanse of years, come to greater clarity as to my "attraction" to the Sisters of Mercy as women of valor and vision, with a deepening sense of gratitude for the reciprocity of our rela-tionship. The issues of freedom and fulfillment became bemus-ing, and the turbulent times never did seem to abate. At thirty-three years of age, thirteen years after my entrance and less than four years after my final profession, I received a dis-pensation from my vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. The following are excerpts from the letter I wrote to the provincial administrator, initiating the formal leave-taking process: To try and summarize all the spiritual and psychological investigations I have done would be an injustice to all that has September-October 1999 Clendenen ¯ On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming gone into this decision. To say too little would be an injus-tice to the quality of relationship I have shared as a Sister of Mercy throughout these years. I feel great pain as I accept responsibility for breaking my promises. But it was the pain of remaining in religious community that finally made the decision. I have asked myself again and again about the truth and integrity of the final commitment professed in 1978. That moment expressed the insight and honesty that was available to me; and while only four years ago, it's been a lifetime. In the months I have lived alone, I have read all the journals from my thirteen years as a Sister of Mercy. I saw the patterns of my struggles repeated year upon year. I read and remembered delightful times in community. My loneli-ness lines many pages. Notes from numerous retreats reminded me of my love for God. And, oh, the growing rage at the institutional church as it demeaned me and our efforts for women's voice and body to be celebrated all places, including the altar. I do not believe that in asking for a dispensation from my religious vows I am walking away from the vision of Catherine McAuley, the works of mercy, the body of Christ, or the commitment with feminists to liberate ourselves from the patriarchy. I am stepping away from a vowed relationship among you. I promised to persevere for life. I believe I per-severed until there .was no more life for me. I am so very sorry. I do not look for understanding, I~ut I will always expect compassion for that is why we bear our name. For the compassion that has been shown me and I have shared with you, for the years of service given expres-sion to as a Sister of Mercy, for the treasured moments and persons, I will always be grateful. I remain a believer and a daughter of Catherine McAuley. I hold now with courage and trepidation her legacy, my Bible, and I turn a corner. And trust. To Give One's Word Yale University Professor of Christian Ethics and Sister of Mercy Margaret Farley's tough thinking on the meaning of fidelity and its claim of obligation form an important frame of reference in analyzing whether one has the moral sanction to end a com-mitment. Sister Margaret Farley wrote her book on commitment in the late 1980s, when the permanency of commitments in American marriages teetered at a fifty-percent divorce rate and when "defection" from the priesthood and religious life in the Review for Religious American Catholic Church continued to deplete the ranks of ordained and vowed Catholic ecclesial leaders. For many years I successfully avoided Margaret Farley's 1986 book Personal Commitments: Beginning. Keeping. Changing. Research for this article inevitably led me back to her work and the challenges to think hard about why we give our word in mak-ing commitments, why we are obliged to keep them, and under what circumstances we may be morally released from them. Farley suggests that the rise of the human-potential movement served to shift the goals of many from the challenges of permanent commit-ment, fidelity, and responsibility, toward the increasing warrant of the call for per-sonal growth and self-actualization. It was as if these two venues for being and becoming were mutually exclusive. Those who had previously interpreted their life in terms of a religious vocation began to claim the. need to transfer voca-tion from one locus to another. "It was not always easy to tell whether these were expressions of faithfulness or of irresponsibility and betrayal."' What does it mean to say you make a promise with a sense of its truth and integrity and then years later suggest that your insights and sense of integrity have changed so signifi-cantly as to justify a breaking of the bonds and a release from obli-gation? Is emotional pain and lack of personal fulfillment sufficient cause to be dispensed fr6m the vows professed in an act of freedom, a free action always given into the hands of an uncertain future? As Farley eloquently explains, commitment has to do with the free action of free persons who give their word as part of them-selves. Commitment m~ans to give my word because that word belongs to me and I freely choose to entrust it to another's keep-ing. In a sense, commitment means to share with one or more per-sons claims on my being there in a promised way with and for them. While my word is "given away," paradoxically I still pos-sess it because it is myself. In commitment we freely take on an obligation to do as we have promised. The motivation for the kind of commitment we are discussing here is always love. "By assuming certain frameworks for love, we Is emotional pain and lack of personal fulfillment sufficient cause to be dispensed from the vows professed in an act of freedom, September-October 1999 Clendenen ¯ On Promise Making, Leave-Taking, and Becoming commit ourselves to whatever we understand essentially to con-stitute this framework."2 The profession of religious vows to be lived in the mic

Issue 31.1 of the Review for Religious, 1972. ; ASSOCIATE EDI'I.'O R Everett A. Diederich, S.J. QUESTIONS ANI) ANS\VERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editor, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to I~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Build-ins; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ccclcsiastical approval by faculty mcnlbers of tile School of Divinity of St. Louis UniversJly. the edilorhll otfices beii~g located at 612 Ilumboldt Bnilding~ 539 North (.;rand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned b.v the Missouri Province Educational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1972 by REVIEW I:OR RELIGIOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. l.ouis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years: other counlries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for Ilew or renewal subscriptions and should bc accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. cur-rency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent I~EVIEW I:OR ~ELIGIOUS. Clmnge of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent I)ululh, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editori-al correspondence, and books for review ~bould bc scat 1o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: 612 [lumboldt Building: 539 North Grand Boule-yard; SI. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to tile address of tile Questions and Ans\vcrs editor. JANUARY 1972 VOLUME 31 NUMBER 1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Volume 31l 1972 EDITORIAL OFFICE 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE P.O. Box 1110 Dululh, Minnesota 55802 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, Published in January, March, May, July, September, No-vember on the fifteenth of the month. Review for Religious is indexed in the Catholic Periodi-cal Index and in Book Review Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Micro-films; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. HELEN CONDON, R.S.C.J. The Prayer Question [Helen Condon, R.S.C.J., is a member of the administrative team of the International Union of Superiors General; Piazza di Ponte S. Angelo, 28; 00186 Rome, Italy.] One sign that religious men and women are experiencing renewal and not just making adaptations is the surfacing of a deep current, the desire for prayer. Within the past two or three years there has been a stronger interest in prayer, in new forms and approaches, in books by Lutheran, Anglican, and Orthodox mystics and in Eastern spiritualities. That this interest is more than academic is evident from the efforts being made to experience prayer -the workshops and live-in institutes, directed retreats, the spreading house of prayer movement, the contacts being sought with various masters of contemplation. The Spirit breathing through the Second Vatican Council is surely responsible for this direction of renewal. One strong influence has been the Biblical renaissance of our time, affecting both communal and personal prayer. Among young religious in particular there is often a truly Scripture-centered praying. Another impetus has come from the new freedom given by the chapter decrees of numerous apostolic congregations, doing away with outmoded and excessive devotions and offering wide latitude for individual needs and attractions. What is this contemplative prayer? However we may try to analyze or describe it, in the end it is perhaps least badly expressed as an experience of God. Desire for this experience goes far beyond religious and Christian life, for the same dynamism is active in contemporary society. A'quest for religious experience is a marked characteristic of the counter-culture, however misdirected it may become in esoteric dilettantism and drug addiction. In many places criticism of religious institutions is strongest among those who sense what religion should be. Celebration of the death of God is not an attack on Him but in our misrepresentations, and it can lead to a search for Him. The awareness of God's absence and the widespread crisis of faith and hope may well be social phenomena akin to the mystical dark night. Is it surprising that religious men and women may be similarly affected? Our problems are often the same problems that others have. Realization of this fact can lead to meaningful solidarity with them. It can also be a tremendous apostolic challenge. In this context we come to understand that, although prayer as a human experience has certain constants through the centuries, it must also be real today. Action and contemplation are not antithetical, any more than are body and soul or other so-called dichotomies. All the condemnation of old attitudes and structures that enforced parallel lives of individualistic prayer and work and even the recent criticism of mere horizontalism are now subsiding. What is left is at bedrock level, a hunger and thirst for the living God. The modalities of this experience are many, defying definition and classification. Age-old awarenesses still hold - man's sense of the wholly Other, man's need for a human God - but these are intensified and Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 re-expressed in our heightened consciousness of present realities. Prayer is experience of God's dynamic presence; it is also search for this God. Sometimes it is experience of His absence. Prayer is awareness of His saving action in the world, challenging our integral response. Prayer can be both cause and effect of serving the real needs of men. Yet, without denying the present thrust toward prayer, a crucial question is justified: given the present conditions and circumstances, can many religious men and women engaged in active apostolates really have contemplative prayer? Never have pressures been greater than they are today in Catholic education, the area in which most religious devote themselves. The burden of the future weighs heavily on teachers and administrators: how to assess apostolic need and effective response; how to become more involved in the wider community; how to achieve academic excellence and, of course; how to make ends meet while increasing faculty salaries and benefits, improving instructional programs, and extending scholarships; whether to keep open or to close a school or college. Shortage of personnel presents critical financial problems and sometimes affects morale, especially if teaching sisters, brothers, and priests interpret the questioning of schools and universities and the undertaking of new apostolates by members of their congregations as a lack of support and confidence. Added to all these circumstances is another factor, the grave problems of high school and college students which have also spiraled within a few years and which cry out for help, time, and emotional expenditure on the part of those who teach and guide them. In view of all these pressures - and similar pressures in other kinds of apostolic work - some religious men and women are driven to settle for very little prayer. In addition, the changes within religious life have had an effect - more direct responsibility for one's own "prayer life," greater personal freedom, a wider variety of leisure activities. No longer does a rule or superior "safeguard" times of prayer. Self-discipline is rightly intended to replace other structures, but this kind of self-discipline is not easy, even after years of fidelity to meditation. Other changes have caused malaise and polarization within congregations and local communities. After hectic days in the classroom or office, religious men and women sometimes come home to tensions that are even more difficult to bear. Then there are the heaviest pressures of all, questions that are being asked not just in theological speculation but in personal anguish: ls religious life itself a valid and viable way any more? What meaning has permanent commitment? Is such commitment possible? What really is a relationship with God? Is there such a thing as being "called"? Who is Christ? Where is He? What is the Church? It is not surprising that some find prayer very difficult or meaningless. If it is true that the Holy Spirit is seeking to pray more within us and among us, how can we help one another respond, in spite and because of the problems that burden us? Some of these problems are outside us and some are within. Basic to any effort is a view of religious life itself. It is more and other than professional service, however sympathetic and unselfish. Religious life is a way of realizing the baptismal commitment. It is a faith relationship with the Lord lived out in apostolic community. It is a shared experience of Jesus Christ. A religious congregation is a community of persons committed to, an evangelical life and mission, which is the saving work of Christ among people today. Some such vision reflecting the charism and spirit of the founder is at the head of the book of new decrees or interim documents of ourcongregations. Ultimately this vision is a conviction of faith, with an overriding logic of its own. And this Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 conviction must become the point of reference and basic principle determining our priorities and policies. As a matter of fact, many congregations are acting according to their vision and basic principle in making courageous decisions about reorganizing institutional apostolates and opening up new forms of evangelical service and ministry. Convictions about the individual's'needs and apostolic call are leading to new types of community life and more diversified professional training. The experiments in initial formation and the move toward continuing education and retirement programs result from a realistic application of fundamental aims. Yet are we equally realistic in implementing the prayer-imperative intrinsic to our vision and faith conviction? If in actuality many or even some apostolic religious are so overburdened and pressured that prayer becomes impossible, then priorities demand an honest facing of the problem by everyone concerned. This confronta-tion is the responsibility of a whole congregation or an entire province as well as those in authority, since we now participate in some way in our own government. We have been willing to cut back on institutional commitments because of new apostolic demands, because of the need for further professional preparation, the shortage of personnel and finances. Are we willing to make similar decisions to help one another grow in the faith relationship with God, live the apostolic religious life more humanly and freely? This is not a pious ideal but a pragmatic conclusion. Apostolate is bigger than work, as the person is more than a function. People have to be given time and psychic space to breathe and be. Practically speaking, we need to provide more help for overworked administrators, to lighten class loads of teachers whose day also includes hours of informal counseling or evening activities in the parish. And speaking just as practically, we must begin to give time-off to individuals - spiritual sabbaticals - not just time to acquire a degree in theology, but time and help to seek the living God. Summer renewals of a month or so are helpful. Yet what seems to be needed is a prolonged period, a semester or more, with courses in Scripture and theology and other disciplines integrated into a community experience, and the opportunity for real spiritual direction. The ARC program held in Rome during 1970-71 offered such an experience and might serve as one model for similar ventures elsewhere.1 This kind of spiritual sabbatical might well give the distancing that some seem able to find only in a leave of absence. For most others it would be a time of growth and re-integration after years of self-expenditure. Congregations - which is to say, we - owe their members continuing spiritual help and most especially help in praying - not just talks on prayer, though these can be valuable, but personal guidance and circumstances that favor growth. Good directors are hard to come by; this field of ministry is crying out for sisters and brothers as well as priests. We need prayerful men and women with learning, experience, and sensitivity to the contemporary, who can enlighten and encourage others, enabling them to discern God's leading and to go forward in faith. Besides the congregation, local communities are "responsible" for the quality of 1 ARC - Apostolate of Religious Community - was a program first offered for religious women in 1970-1971 in Rome. Courses in Scripture and theology were taught in English by such persons as Barnabas Ahem, Luis Alonso Sch6kel, Robert L. Faricy, Paul Kennedy, Edward Malatesta, Juan Mateos, Paul Molinari, David M. Stanley, and James Walsh. The 28 participants of varying ages belonged to 17 congregations. They developed their own community life, integrating course content, and communal prayer.'The ARC program,is being repeated during 1971-1972. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 prayer of their members. It is in the living situation that a person's overwork and exhaustion will become most evident. If a community is really a home, then already other pressures lessen and we get strength from one another. If it is not home, a person may tend to withdraw, to center his life outside, to work compulsively. Even if an individual will not or cannot work out of his overextension, his friends can help, like the four men in the gospel~ by laying him at Christ's feet in their own prayer. Since we have chosen to live out our commitment in community, community becomes the context of our discovery of Christ, as it was for His Apostles. As they supported Thomas, we can sustain the faith of one another. Our faith is in need of such help. Perhaps more of us than we could ever guess are going through the same kind of thing - asking ourselves who Christ is and where He is, what our own lives mean and how we can live them today. Another's questioning and searching can help us immeasurably more than facile theoretic solutions. Some are doubting if there is such a thing as a personal call by God. Ultimately the only answer is people's experience. In the long story of salvation history some individuals have known a personal call, and in the more tangible present of our own communities others may be able to share their own moment of meeting with the Lord. Perhaps we can dare to walk in the strength of another's vision, or he in ours, or the hidden Christ may join the two of us as we speak of no longer finding Him. The prayer of the Christian community has special efficacy because the Lord has promised His presence there. Whatever form communal prayer may take, it must make room for this presence, with all its implications of conversion and forgiveness. Through the centuries religious men and women have edified each other by their ardor and fidelity. Today, when we are particularly vulnerable to one another, the quality of community life has a tremendous impact. Perhaps more than anything else, the best help to personal prayer is to be with praying people. What about the individual religious who finds prayer impossible or meaningless? When we cannot pray, when we are bogged down, utterly weary, drained, dried up, when we may already also feel guilty, advice is the last thing we want from Job's comforters, perhaps even from our closest friends. But maybe we can quietly recognize that much of our impotence may come from exterior circumstances and our own human condition. The response is what we are capable of at any given moment. Maybe the only response possible is a desperate cry to God for help. And maybe there will be no answer, only silence. If we can remember words about knocking over and over again, we can try to keep on asking, begging especially for faith: Save me, God! The water is already up to my neck! I am sinking in the deepest swamp, there is no foothold; I have stepped into deep water, and the waves are rushing over me, Worn out with calling, my throat is hoarse, my eyes are strained, looking for my God (Ps 69:1-3). God's power that raised Christ from the dead is working in us (Ep 1:19-20). In prayer the initiatives are His: "Is anything too wonderful for Yahweh?" (Gn 18:14). The response we are capable of may mean a courageous honesty, admitting our own carelessness or compromising or sinfulness. It may mean a willingness to take small steps, perhaps just a recognition of the problem of personal prayer, perhaps letting ourselves be helped. At some point priorities can be sorted out. If the problem is overinvolvement, something has ~to give. Nobody but God can be all things to all men. In its acute form this condition is like a heart attack, when a Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 doctor would say to us: "If you want to live, you've got to let up." Now our very life is just as truly at stake. Do we want to live, and live more abundantly? For all of us, moving into this more abundant life means discovering a rhythm and realizing an integration of prayer into our very existence. The Spirit's action leads to life, not frustration. His invitation to apostolic religious must be possible of acceptance. Given the complexities of today, obstacles around us and within us are immense, but with personal and communal effort they must be surmountable. The new decrees of congregations which altered prayer obligations were intended to open do6rs and windows, not create a vacuum. Contemplative prayer does not need to be defended. Time taken for it does not require apologies to anyone. For the problem of prayer will always be partly a question of time because of the human condition. The modes of prayer are multiple and unique: God can and does give Himself anywhere at any moment. To recognize and assimilate this encounter takes reflection, time, some solitude. Prayer is a human experience, caused and conditioned by and inseparable from human living; prayer is also a gift of the immanent and transcendent God. Apostolic religious are praying people who happen to be teachers or adminis-trators or other professionals, not workers who happen to pray. If we mean what we have so often said - that is what we are rather than what we do that matters - then nowhere is this more true than in our being in Christ. The integration of our lives comes about through the quality of our prayer. The deepening desire for prayer is surely a sign and fruit of renewal. And God's gifts are given not just for ourselves but for others, for the building up of Christ's Body. Religious men and women who are praying people can help others to pray, those who are searching for God without knowing Him, those who have lost Him, those who are revolting against the sterile materialism of technocracy. The religious person is also meant to be a prophet, to condemn injustice and hatred and violence by his words and his life, to proclaim the kingdom of justice and love and peace. One who speaks God's message to mefi must all along be a listener: The Lord Yahweh has given ,me a disciple's tongue. So that 1 may know how to reply to the wearied he provides me with speech. Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear (Is 50:4-5). M. BASIL PENNINGTON, 0.C.S.0. Contemplative Community lM. Basil Pennington, O.C.S;O., is a Cistercian monk of St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, Massachusetts O1562.] The Third Cistercian Symposium (August 30 - September 6, 1971) held at the Abbey of Notre Dame du Lac (near Montreal, Canada) brought together some fifty participants from various nations and continents, including such notables as Jean Leclercq, O.S.B., Armand Veilleux, O.C.S.O., Chrysogonus Waddell, O.C,S.O., Valentine Walgrave, O.P., Ghislain Lafont, O.S.B., and many others. The theme of this Third Symposium was "Contemplative Community." Like the previous Cistercian Symposiums, a team of experts, in this case fifteen, were asked to prepare papers which were circulated in advance. Like the Second Symposium this one also was interdisciplinary and included papers from the fields of Sacred Scripture, patristics, monastic spirituality and history, liturgy, theology, sociology, anthropology, and psychology. A paper reflecting the Anglican perspective was also presented. Unlike previous Symposiums the papers were not read at the meeting. All had been asked to study them carefully prior to the meeting. Or/the first day each expert made a very brief presentation and time was allotted for questions. Such a plan was proposed to allow the greatest amount of time possible for discussion in the hopes that the group might in this way penetrate more deeply hato the question. In practice it proved quite successful. The twelve papers presented were: Scripture Monastic Community and the Summary Statements in Acts Francis Martin Monastic Tradition and History The De Instituto Christiano: Reflections on Contemplative Community Sr. Michael Connor, O.C.S.O. St. Bernard of Clairvaux and the Contemplative Community Jean Leclercq, O.S.B. Seeking God in Community according to St. Aelred Charles Dumont, O.C.S.O. Together unto God: Contemplative Community in the Sermons of Guerric of Igny M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. A Challenge for Today: The Problem of the Contemplative Community at the End of the Eighteenth Century Cyprian Davis, O.S.B. Contemplation and Community: An Anglican Perspective Sr. Benedicta Ward, S.L.G. Liturgy Liturgy and Contemplative Community: Random Reflections and Notes for Discussion Chrysogonus Waddell, O.C.S.O. Theology The Theology of Contemplative Community Tarcisius Conner, O.C.S.O. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 Sociology The Theology of Social Dynamics with an Application to Contemplative Life Valentine Walgrave, O.P. Anthropology Contemplative Community David F. K. Steindl-Rast, O.SoB. Psychology Some Psychological Dimensions of the Contemplative Community D. H. Salman, O.P. Experts present who did not present papers were: Armand Veilleux, O.C.S.O., abbot of Mistassini and editor ofLiturgie, Ghislain Lafont, O.S.B., of Pierre-qui-vire andJohn Eudes Bamberger, O.C.S.O., Secretary General of the Cistercian Order, psychiatrist and patristic scholar. In addition to the team of experts there was a good cross section 'among the participants of those concerned with the contemplative community. There were abbots and abbesses, novice masters and novice mistresses, monks, nuns and novices; there were Cistercians, Benedictines, and Dominicans; there were those from experimental communities, secular institutes, and the lay state. With such a large group there was always the danger that the Symposium might evolve into a colloquium. In actual fact 6ne evening session was devoted to sharing the experiences of the various communities represented. However, for the most part, the meeting remained a very serious study, yet one constantly challenged by practical pastoral concern. On the first day after the brief presentations and a question period, the meeting divided into five small groups, three English-speaking and two French. These groups, in the light of the presentations, formulated questions which represented areas of concern: the essential nature of the Christian contemplative community, sharing at the level of contemplative experience, integration of the vertical and horizontal dimensions. Fidelity to the evolving community and entrance into the contemplative community were also to be discui;sed. On the second day discussion was largely restricted to the panel of experts. The Biblical type of the Christian community, especially in the light of the summary statements in Acts (2:42-7, 4:32-5, 5:11-6) was explored. And then the wider human phenomenon was considered. It was felt that the specifically Christian dimension which transfinalized and elevated the human could best be understood if it was seen precisely in this light. Thus the concluding statement first considered the human phenomenon and then the Christian: CHRISTIAN CONTEMPLATIVE COMMUNITY In order to live human life to the full, man must transcend his empirical self and so realize his True Self. This implies an openness to the Transcendent. Attention to his openness for the Transcendent makes man aware of his contemplative dimension. Contemplative life as a form of life expresses and fosters in every detail of daily living mindfulness of the Transcendent. Contemplative community is a gathering of brethren who support one another in contemplative life through a giving and receiving that is at once spontaneous and responsible. For the Christian to live the human life to the full means a dying to selfishness to enter into the life of the risen Christ. This is the conversion that leads to transformation into the New Man and to the realization of the Self as Cosmic Christ. This transfiguration is realized as the Spirit opens us to the revelation of the Father in His Word. Loving awareness./of this revelation in all its dimensions is contemplative prayer. Since Christian contemplative life focuses on the Word, it is a form of life which expresses and fosters in every detail of daily living a listening to God and a living by the Word. Some Christians called to the contemplative life gather in love and experience God by sharing solitude in common life, supporting one another as brothers. In doing so, they mediate to each other the revelation of God and they manifest the mystery of the Church as open to God in prayer. 10 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 The full significance of this statement can this schema: CONTEMPLATIVE HUMAN (1) FULLNESS In order to live human life to the full, man must transcend his empirical self and so realize his True Self. be better perceived if it is considered in COMMUNITY CHRISTIAN OF LIFE For the Christian, to live the human life to the full means a dying to selfishness to enter into the life of the risen Christ. This is the conversion that leads to transformation into the New Man and to the realization of the Self as Cosmic Christ. This implies cendent. (2) OPENNESS TO THE TRANSCENDENT an openness to the Trans- This transfiguration is realized as the Spirit opens us to the revelation of the Father in His Word. (3) CONTEMPLATIVE DIMENSION Attention to his openness for the Trans- Loving awareness to this revelation in all its cendent makes man aware of his contempla- dimensions is contemplative prayer. tire dimension. (4) CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE Contemplative life as a form of life ex- Since Christian contemplative life focuses presses and fosters in every detail of daily on the Word (Logos), it is a form of life living mindfulness of the Transcendent. which expresses and fosters in every detail of daily living a listening to God and a living by the Word. (5) CONTEMPLATIVE COMMUNITY Contemplative community is a gathering of brethren who support one another in con-templative life through a giving and receiv-ing that is at once spontaneous and respon-sible. Some Christians called to the contemplative life gather in love and experience God by sharing solitude in common life, supporting one another as brothers. In doing so, they mediate to each other the revelation of God and they manifest the mystery of the Church as open to God in prayer. This extremely rich statement summarizes a great deal of discussion and shared insight, the fruit of the labor of the experts working in panels, small group discussions, general sessions, and long night sessibns of the conclusion committee with various experts. Pages and even volumes could be written on it. The committee did offer a brief explanation or development of some of its aspects but these themselves open the way to further areas of exploration and reflection: Fullness of Life The empirical self is the self experienced as acting, reasoning, managing, controlling; not only the self as egotistical or selfish. To mistake this functional self for one's True Self is an illusion. To h~eak out of this illusion means to realize life in fullness. (We are using "tea|ize" throughout in its double sense of becoming aware and making real.) The realization of this universal Self constitutes the ultimate achievement in various spiritual traditions. In Christian tradition this breakthrough into fullness of life is our entering into the Paschal Mystery. What it means to enter into the Cosmic Christ becomes clear when we take seriously St. Paul's "I live now no longer I but Christ lives in me," and keep in mind that this is the Christ in whom, through whom, for whom all things have been created - the Cosmic Christ of Col 1 : 12-20, "Christ is the visible likeness of the invisible God. He is the firstborn Son superior to every creature, for by him God created everything . and through the Son God decided to bring the whole universe back to himself." Tradition expresses this mystery in the language of image and likeness with reference to Genesis 1:36. Community plays an essential role throughout the process in which the image is restored to its likeness (cf. Eph 1:23). Openness to the Transcendent It should be noted that we are dealing with a process, a path. Traditionally this path has been Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 11 seen as leading from knowledge of self which is humility, through knowledge of others which is compassion, to knowledge of God which is contemplation. This process cuhninates in that purity of heart which is man's transparehcy.to the deifying light, of which St. Benedict speaks, and this is true transfiguration. Contemplative Dimension The contemplative attitude is a matter of love, a matter of an intense continuous desire for God. When we speak about contemplative prayer we mean prayerfulness, not only prayers. The man of prayers strives to "pray without ceasing." In arriving at this, the "intention," that dynamic directiveness toward God explicated in a loving attitude of listening, draws the whole heart after it as the needle draws the thread. We refer to all the dimensions of re~,elation because revelation of the Triune God is in itself as it were three-dimensional. God reveals hiinself to us through his Son, the Word, through whom he created and saved everything (Heb 1:3). Thus God speaks to us through all things. We may call this the theophanic dimension of revelation. But it is only in the Spirit that we can understand God's Word, because "the things of God no one knows but the Spirit of God. Now we have received., the Spirit of God that we may know the things that have been given by God" (1 Cor 2:10-12). We may call this the pneumatic dimension. Even this revelation leaves intact the mystery of God the Father who "dwells in light inaccessible, whom no man sees or can see" (1 Tim 6:16). We may call this the apophatic dimension. Contemplative Life When we say that Christian contemplative life "focuses on the Word" we mean that it is through the Word that we come to know the Father in the Spirit. This is why Christian contemplative practice strives for an ever greater sensitivity to the Word (Ausculta) and, through the Word, to God. The clause "expresses and fosters in everyday living," refers to asceticism as practiced in monastic communities. In Cistercian monasteries, for instance, this is done by a deep commitment to the Rule of St. Benedict as interpreted by the living Cistercian tradition. Contemplative Community All Christian life includes an element of contemplation, and all Christian life implies communion. Some Christians, however, live a community life specifically dedicated to contemplative prayer. Their goal is to realize kohtonia in its full Biblical sense: personal communion with the living God and sharing in communion with brothers (cf. 1 Jn 1:3). This is contemplative community, one way of realizing concretely the mystery of the Church. We are poor men, sinners, needing help, not only God's but one another's. For this reason also we need to share a common commitment within a common life. Deep inner sharing of purpose has brought us to a community where, by mutual love and concern, respect and correction, we search, we grow, we experience God. ("Experience" here is not limited to its merely psychological sense but means a deep personal encounter with God in faith.) We support one another in this experience by praising God together, reflecting and learning, living and suffering together to be reborn together. And yet in this life together each brother is the guardian of the other's solitude, protecting it both against infringement and against deteriora-tion into loneliness. Some people need more solitude and others need more togetherness. This implies a true pluralism among communities and in community. The practical question which had inaugurated the Third Symposium had been formulated thus: To see more clearly the problems inherent in the life-situation when men freely gather together and commit themselves to live together in a Christian community for the precise purpose of obtaining for each one the maximal freedom to respond to God in prayer and contemplation (and) of fostering each one's growth in this (and) to seek out, as best we can, genui~tely practical responses to these problems. 12 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 In more concrete terms: I am a Cistercian. 1 live in community. 1 am trying to be a man of prayer. I want to be fully responsive to my community, each man in it and the community as a whole. At the same time 1 want to live an intense prayer life and attain to the deepest possible union with God and experience of Him. In view of this twofold concern what are the difficulties and tensions i am running into and how practically can we best resolve them? Its answer is found in two related insights: an understanding of what might be called incarnational;contemplative prayer, and of unity in pluralism. As the statement above brings out, contemplative prayer, the contemplative attitude, lies in openness to God, responsiveness to God, God who has revealed Himself to us. We know that this God, our God - indeed the only God - is always beyond all His revelations and manifestations; yet He is known and contacted in and through them. His revelation of Himself is to be found not only in the Sacred Books or in the depths of one's own soul, but in all creation, His work which He ever keeps in being, sharing His being, and above all, in the creature He made to His own image and likeness: man. If one approaches creation and especially his fellow man with the Christian contemplative attitude, then this is contemplative prayer. He contacts God and responds to Him as He is revealing Himself. But a man can not do this unless he does have in his life, besides times of communion with creation and with his brethren, periods of silence and solitude wherein he can become aware of his own contemplative dimension and learn to live and respond at this level. Thus it is necessary for the contemplative community to structure itself to some extent at least so that each member can be assured of the time and leisure (which is something more than just time) he needs for this. The other practices of the traditional Christian ascesis are also presupposed. Even when the legitimacy of the incarnational approach to contemplative living is fully established, it remains that this is not the primary attraction or call of all contemplatives. And thus it does not provide the only or wholly adequate answer to our question. There must be within the contemplative community a healthy pluralism which responds to the members' diverse ways of perceiving God and consequently their diverse ways of seeking Him. The official report of the Symposium summed up the conclusions of the Symposium on this point in this way: Unity and Pluralism The contemplative community finds its unity in its common basic orientation toward listening to God and living by the Word. It experiences this unity insofar as the members are able to communicate to one another that they do share this common orientation. Some of the ways in which this is done are through common prayer, praise and Eucharist, through sharing a common spirituality, through accepting the common leadership of an abbot, through example, through participation in common exercises, mutual service and community support, through the charity of fraternal correction, through a common sharing of the responsibility to work toward unity, and through interpersonal encounter in which the brethren share deeply what God is accomplishing in their lives. Their very oneness in Christ makes them essentially sharers. There can be true pluralism only insofar as there is true unity in this basic orientation because pluralism is the expression and realization of the same ideals or orientation in different ways. Psychologically a community can peacefully accept pluralism and not experience it as threatening to its unity if there is among the brethren sufficient knowledge of each other's sharing in the common goal to allow each to have confidence that his brothers are with him in this. Within the ambiance of this common basic orientation each one, according to his own proper attraction, will seek God in different ways placing more emphasis on one approach or another. Some will more readily seek and find him in the depths of their own being, others in their brothers, in creation, in all the details of everyday life. The former will mediate God to their brothers more by example or "image," the others more by "word," interpersonal relations and shared activities. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 13 Within a truly united community there can be a very extensive spectrum of diversity, a very rich pluralism. Such pluralism manifests the great vitality of a united community. Guidelines as norms which set certain limits to pluralism can help a community to be faithful to its basic orientation and invite it to a deeper awareness of it. But ideally such guidelines should merely reflect values which are personally possessed and cherished by all the members of the community. Finally the report of the meeting added a few brief considerations on the present situation vis-,~-vis the contemplative community: Dynamism of the Present Situation Contemplative life today is an adventure, a risk demanding acceptance in faith of difficult situations, a realistic living of the Mystery of Christ, all the while open to the Spirit so that he may move us. In our present situation it is necessary not only to be aware of our past but also of a future that is unfolding with ever greater rapidity. To be a member of a contemplative community is to accept and embrace with joy the death and rebirth into new life that continually mark a vital community life. Love has to express itself in patience, trust and hope in the face of insecurity in the situations that we encounter today. In periods of transition we experience a certain polarization. In the midst of this we can find u~nity in working together toward a fuller unity to be achieved in the future. There is a new form of asceticism in accepting change in a spirit of detachment and in not forcing change on others. Some unusual situations can demand decisions. In regard to fidelity to one's community, only when it becomes clear that the community's evolving orientation blocks the realization of an essential dimension of one's response to God should a person consider separating himself. Honest recognition of community problems is a first step toward building the future. In formulating solutions the community, head and members, listen to one another, always keeping their basic values and orientations in view. We have to love one another. We need to be healed. There is much pain in the perfecting of a contemplative community but this very pain can be the means of bringing forth life and growth. We live in a new age and must find new solutions for problems, some old and some never before encountered. All who took part in the Symposium felt it was a very enriching experience. A report can hardly do justice to the immense wealth brought to the discussions by the large and most capable panel of experts. But perhaps far more important was the strengthening witness shared by all there, a witness given not only by the participants, one to another, but that of the wonderful contemplative community which hosted the meeting. The large and flourishing community of Notre Dame du Lac with its most generous and open hospitality, its vital celebration of the daily liturgy, and its very evident commitment to contemplative living provided the most ideal context for a symposium on contemplative community. The papers and conclusions of the Third Cistercian Symposium will be published shortly by Cistercian Publications in Volume Twenty-one of the "Cistercian Studies Series": Contemplative Community: A n Interdisciplinary Symposium. GEORGE A. ASCHENBRENNER, S.J. Consciousness Examen [George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J.,is the director of novices in the Maryland Province of the Society of Jesus; Novitiate of St. Isaac Jogues; Wernersville, Pennsylvania 19565.] Examen is usually the first practice to disappear from the daily life of the religious. This occurs for many reasons; but all the reasons amount to the admission (rarely explicit) that it is not of immediate practical value in a busy day. My point in this article is that all these reasons and their false conclusion spring from a basic misunderstanding of the examen as practiced in religious life. Examen must be seen in relationship to discernment of spirits. It is a daily intensive exercise of discernment in a person's life. Examen of Consciousness For many youth today life is spontaneity if anything. If spontaneity is crushed or aborted, then life itself is stillborn. In this view examen is living life once removed from the spontaneity of life. It is a reflective, dehydrated approach which dries all the spontaneity out of life. These people today disagree with Socrates' claim that the unexamined life is not worth living. For these people the Spirit is in the spontaneous and so anything that militates against spontaneity is un-Spirit-ual. This view overlooks the fact that welling up in the consciousness and experience of each of us are two spontaneities, one good and for God, another evil and not for God. These two types of spontaneous urges and movements happen to all of us. So often the quick-witted, loose-tongued person who can be so entertaining and the center of attention and who is always characterized as being so spontaneous is not certainly being moved by and giving expression to the good spontaneity. For one eager to love God with his or her whole being, the challenge is not simply to let the spontaneous happen but rather to be able to sift'out these various spontaneous urges and give full existential ratification to those spontaneous feelings that are from and for God. We do this by allowing the truly Spirited-spontaneity to happen in our daily lives. But we must learn the feel of this true Spirited-spontaneity. Examen has a very central role in this learning. When examen is related to discernment, it becomes examen of consciousness rather than of conscience. Examen of conscience has narrow moralistic overtones. Though we were always told that examen of conscience in religious life was not the same as a preparation for confession, it was actually explained and treated as though it were much the same. The prime concern was with what good or bad actions we had done each day. In discernment the prime concern is not with the morality of good or bad actions; rather the concern is how the Lord is affecting and moving us (often quite spontaneously!) deep in our own affective consciousness. What is happening in our consciousness is prior to and more important than our actions which can be delineated as ju~'idically good or evil. How we are experiencing the "drawing" of the Father (Jn 6:44) in our own existential consciousness and how our sinful nature is quietly tempting us and luring us away from our Father in Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 15 subtle dispositions of our consciousness - this is what the daily examen is concerned with prior to a concern for our response in our actions. So it is examen of consciousness that we are concerned with here, so that we can cooperate with and let happen that beautiful, spontaneity in Our hearts which is the touch of our Father and the urging of the Spirit. Examen and Religious Identity The examen we are talking about here is not a Ben Franklin-like striving for self-perfection. We are talking about an experience in faith of growing sensitivity to the unique, intimately special ways that the Lord's Spirit has of approaching and calling us. Obviously it takes time for this growth. But in this sense examen is a daily renewal and growth in our religious identity - this unique flesh-spirit person being loved by God and called by Him deep in his personal affective world. It is not possible for me to make an examen without confronting my own identity in Christ before the Father - my own religious identity as poor, celibate, and obedient in imitation of Christ as experienced in the charism of my religious vocation. And yet so often our daily examen becomes so general and vague and unspecific that our religious identity (Jesuit, Dominican, Franciscan, and so forth) does not seem to make any difference. Examen assumes real value when it becomes a daily experience of confrontation and renewal of our unique religious identity and how the Lord is subtly inviting us to deepen and develop this identity. We should make examen each time with as precise a grasp as we have now on our religious identity. We do not make it just as any Christian but as this specific Christian person with a unique vocation and grace in faith. Examen and Prayer The examen is a time of prayer. The dangers of an empty self-reflection or an unhealthy self-centered introspection are very real. On the other hand, a lack of effort at examen and the approach of living according to what comes naturally keeps us quite superficial and insensitive to the subtle and profound ways of the Lord deep in our hearts. The prayerful quality and effectiveness of the examen itself depends upon its relationship to the continuing contemplative prayer of the person. Without this relationship examen slips to the level of self-reflection for self-perfection, if it perdures at all. In daily contemplative prayer the Father reveals to us at His own pace the order of the mystery of all reality in Christ - as Paul says to the Colossians: ". those to whom God has planned to give a vision of the full wonder and splendor of his secret plan for the nations" (Col 1:27). The contemplator experiences in many subtle, chiefly non-verbal, ways this revelation of the Father in Christ. The presence of the Spirit of the risen Jesus in the heart of the believer makes it possible to sense and "hear" this invitation (challenge!) to order ourselves to this revelation. Contempla-tion is empty without this "ordering" response. This kind of reverent, docile (the "obedience of faith" Paul speaks of in Rom 16:26), and non-moralistic ordering is the work of the daily examen - to sense and recognize those interior invitations of the Lord that guide and deepen this ordering from day to day and not to cooperate with those subtle insinuations opposed to that ordering. Without that contemplative contact with the Father's revelation of reality in Christ, both in formal prayer and informal prayerfulness, the daily practice of examen becomes empty; it shrivels up and dies. Without this "listening" to the Father's revelation of His ways which are so different from our own (Is 55:8-9), examen again becomes that shaping up of ourselves which is 16 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 human and natural self-perfection or, even worse, it can become that selfish ordering of ourselves to our own ways. Examen without regular contemplation is futile. A failure at regular contempla-tion emaciates the beautifully rich experience of response-ible ordering which the contemplative is continually invited to by the Lord. It is true, on the other hand, that contemplation without regular examen becomes compartmentalized and superficial and stunted in a person's life. The time of formal prayer can become a very sacrosanct period in a person's day but so isolated from the rest of his life that he is not prayerful (finding God in all things) at that level where he really lives. The examen gives our daily contemplative experience of God real bite into all our daily living; it is an important means to finding God in everything and not just in the time of formal prayer, as we will explain at the end of this article. ADiscerning Vision of Heart When we first learned about the examen in religious life, it was a specific exercise of prayer for about a quarter of an hour. And at first it seemed quite stylized and almost artificial. This problem was not in the examen-prayer but in ourselves; we were beginners and had not yet worked out that integration in ourselves of a process of personal discernment to be expressed in daily examens. For the beginner, before he has achieved much of a personalized integration, an exercise or process can be very valuable and yet seem formal and stylized. This should not put us off. It will be the inevitable experience in religious life for the novice and for the "oldtimer" who is beginning again at examen. But examen will fundamentally be misunderstood if the goal of this exercise is not grasped. The specific exercise of examen is ultimately aimed at developing a heart with a discerning vision to be active not only for one or two quarter-hour periods in a day but continually. This is a gift from the Lord -- a most important one as Solomon realized (1 Kings 3:9-12). So we must constantly pray for this gift, but we must also be receptive to its development within our hearts. A daily practice of examen is essential to this development. Hence the five steps of the exercise of examen as presented in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola (# 43) are to be seen, and gradually experienced in faith, as dimensions of the Christian consciousness, formed by God and His work in the heart as it confronts and grows within this world and all of reality. If we allow the Father gradually to transform our mind and heart into that of His Son, to become truly Christian, through our living experience in this world, then the examen, with its separate elements now seen as integrated dimensions of our own consciousness looking out on the world, is much more organic to our outlook and will seem much less contrived. So there is no ideal time allocation for the five elements of the examen each time but rather a daily organic expression of the spiritual mood of the heart. At one time we are drawn to one element longer than the others and at another time to another element over the others. The mature Ignatius near the end of his life was always examining every movement and inclination of his heart which means he was discerning the congruence of everything with his true Christ-centered self. This was the overflow of those regular intensive prayer-exercises of examen every day. The novice or "oldtimer" must be aware both of the point of the one or two quarter-hour exercises of examen each day, namely, a continually discerning heart, and of the necessary gradual adaptation of his practice of examen to his stage of development and the situation in the world in which he finds himself. And yet we are all aware Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 17 of the subtle rationalization of giving up formal examen each day because we have "arrived at" that continually discerning heart. This kind of rationalization will prevent further growth in faith sensitivity to the Spirit and His ways in our daily lives. Let us now take a look at the format of the examen as presented by St. Ignatius in the Spiritual Exercises, #43 but in light of these previous comments on examen as discerning consciousness within the world. Prayer for Enlightenment In the Exercises Ignatius has an act of thanksgiving as the first part of the examen. The first two parts could be interchanged without too much difference. In fact, I would suggest the prayer for enlightenment as a fitting introduction to the examen. The examen is not simply a matter of a person's natural power of memory and analysis going back over a part of the day. It is a matter of Spirit-guided insight into my life and courageously responsive sensitivity to God's call in my heart. What we are seeking here is that gradually growing appreciative insight into the mystery which I am. Without the Father's revealing grace this kind of insight is not possible. The Christian must be careful not to get locked into the world of his own human natural powers. Our technological world can pose as a special danger in this regard. Founded on a deep appreciation of the humanly interpersonal, the Christian in faith transcends the boundaries of the here-and-now with its limited natural causality and discovers a Father who loves and works in and through and beyond all., For this reason we begin the examen with an explicit petition for that enlightenment which will occur in and through our own powers but which our own natural powers could never be capable of all by themselves. That the Spirit may help me to see myself a bit more as He sees me Himself! Reflective Thanksgiving The stance of a Christian in the midst of the world is that of a poor person, possessing nothing, not even himself, and yet being gifted at every instant in and through everything. When we become too affluently involved with ourselves and deny our inherent poverty, then we lose the gifts and either begin to make demands for what we think we deserve (often leading to angry frustration) or we blandly take for granted all that comes our way. Only the truly poor person can appreciate the slightest gift and feel genuine gratitude. The more deeply we live in faith the poorer we are and the more gifted; life itself becomes humble, joyful thanksgiving. This should gradually become an element of our abiding consciousness. After the introductory prayer for enlightenment our hearts should rest in genuine faith-filled gratitude to our Father for His gifts in this most recent part of the day. Perhaps in the spontaneity of the happening we were not aware of the gift and now in this exercise of reflective prayer we see the events in a very different perspective. Our sudden gratitude - now the act of a humble selfless pauper - helps make us ready to discover the gift more clearly in a future sudden spontaneity. Our gratitude should center on the concrete, uniquely personal gifts that each of us was blessed with, whether large and obviously important or tiny and apparently insignificant. There is much in our lives that we take for granted; gradually He will lead us to a deep realization that all isgift. It is right to give Him praise and thanks! Practical Survey of Actions In this third element of the examen ordinarily we rush to review, in some specific 18 Review for Religious, Volume .31, 1972/1 detail, our actions of that part of the day just finished so we can catalogue them as good or bad. Just what we shouldn't do! Our prime concern here in faith is what has been happening to and in us since the last exa.men. The operative questions are: what has been happening in us, how has the Lord been working in us, what has He been asking us. And only secondarily are our own actions to be considered. This part of the examen presumes that we have become sensitive to our interior feelings, moods, and slightest urgings and that we are not frightened by them but have learned to take them very seriously. It is here in~ the depths of our affectivity, so spontaneous, strong, and shadowy at times, that God moves us and deals with us most intimately. These interior moods, feelings, urges, and movements are the "spirits" that must be sifted out, discerned, so we can recognize the Lord's call to us at this intimate core of our being. As we have; said above, the examen is a chief means to this discerning of our interior consciousness. This presumes a real faith approach to life - that life is first listening, then acting in response: The fundamental attitude of the believer is of one who listens. It is to the Lord's utterances that he gives ear. In as many different ways and on as many varied levels as the listener can d"iosbceedrnie tnhcee wofo rfdai tahn.d" .w. iIltl oisf tthhee Laottridtu mdaen oiffe srteecde tpot ihvinit~y, ,h pe amsussitv rietsypoIn adn wdi tpho avlel rthtye oPfa uolninee who is always in need, radically dependent, conscious of his creaturehood. Hence the great need for interior quiet, peace, and a passionate receptivity that attunes us to listening to God's word at every instant and in every situation and then responding in our own activity. Again in a world that is founded more on activity (becoming activism), productivity, and efficiency (whereas efficacity is a norm for the kingdom of God!) this faith view is implicitly, if not explicitly, challenged at every turn in the road. And so our first concern here is with these subtle.intimate, affective ways in which the Lord has been dealing with us during these past few hours. Perhaps we did not recognize Him calling in that past moment, but now our vision is clear and direct. Secondarily our concern is with our actions insofar as they were responses to His calling. So often our activity becomes primary to hs and all sense of response in our activity is lost. We become self-moved and mbtivated rather than moved and motivated by the Spirit (Rom 8:14). This is a subtle lack of faith and failure to live as a son or daughter of our Father. In the light of faith it is the quality (of responsive-ness) of the activity, more than the activity itself, which makes the difference for the kingdom of God. , In this general review there is no strain to reproduce every second since the last examen; rather our concern is with specific details and incidents as they reveal patterns and bring some clarity and insight. This brings us to a consideration of what Ignatius calls the particular examen. This element of the examen, perhaps more than any other, has been misunder-stood. It has often become an effort to divide and conquer by moving down the list of vices or up the list of virtues in a mechanically planned approach to self-perfection. A certain amount of time was spent on each vice or virtue one by one, and then we moved on to the next one on the list. Rather than a practical programmed approach to perfection, the parti'cular examen is meant to be a reverently honest, personal meeting with the Lordfin our own hearts. I David Asselin, S.J., "Christian Maturity and Spiritual Discernment," Review for Religious, v. 27 (1968), p. 594. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 19 When we become sensitive and serious enough about loving God, we begin to realize some changes must be made. We are deficient in so many areas and so many defects must be done away with. But the Lord does not want all of them to be handled at once. Usually there is one area of our hearts where He is especially calling for conversion which is always the beginning of new life. He is interiorly nudging us in one area and reminding us that if we are really serious about Him this one aspect of ourselves must be changed. This is often precisely the one area we want to forget and (maybe!) work on later. We do not want to let His word condemn us in this one area and so we try to forget it and distract ourselves by working on some other safer area which does require conversion but not with the same urgent sting of consciousness that is true of the former area. It is in this first area of our hearts, if we will be honest and open with the Lord, where we are very personally experiencing the Lord in the burning fire of His Word as He confronts us here and now. So often we fail to recognize this guilt for what it really is or we try to blunt it by working hard on something else that we may want to correct whereas the Lord wants something else here and now. For beginners it takes time to become interiorly sensitive to God before they gradually come to recognize the Lord's cidl to conversion (maybe involving a very painful struggle!) in some area of their lives. It is better for beginners to take this time to learn what the Lord wants their particular examen now to be rather than just taking some assigned imperfection to get started on. And so the particular examen is very personal, honest, and at times a very subtle experience of the Lord calling in our hearts for deeper conversion to Himself. The matter of the conversion may remain the same for a long period of time, but the important thing is our sense of His personal challenge to us. Often this experience of the Lord calling for conversion in one small part of our hearts takes the expression of good healthy guilt which should be carefully interpreted and responded to if there is to be progress in holiness. When the particular examen is seen as this personal experience of the Lord's love for us, then we can understand why St. Ignatius suggests that we turn our whole consciousness to this experience of the Lord (whatever it be in all practicality, for example, more subtle humility or readiness to get involved with people on their terms, etc.) at those two very important moments in our day, when we begin our day and when we close it, besides the formal examen times. In this third dimension of the formal examen the growing faith sense of our sinfulness is very central. This is more of a spiritual faith reality as revealed by the Father in our experience than a heavily moralistic and guilt-laden reality. A deep sense of sinfulness depends on our growth in faith and is a dynamic realization which always ends in thanksgiving - the song of a "saved sinner." In his book Growth in the Spirit, Francgis Roustang, in the second chapter, speaks very profoundly about sinfulness and thanksgiving. This can provide enormous insight into the relationship of these second and third elements of the formal examen, especially as dimensions of our abiding Christian consciousness. Contrition and Sorrow The Christian heart is always a heart in song - a song of deep joy and gratitude. But the Alleluia can be quite superficial and without body and depth unless it is genuinely touched with sorrow. This is the song of a sinner constantly aware of being prey to his sinful tendencies and yet being converted into the newness which is guaranteed in the victory of Jesus Christ. Hence, we never grow out of a sense of wonder-ful sorrow in the presence of our Savior. 2O Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 This basic dimension of our heart's vision which the Father desires to deepen in us as He converts us from sinners to His sons and daughters, if we allow Him, is here applied to the specifics of our actions since the lhst examen, especially insofar as they were selfishly inadequate responses to the Lord's work in our hearts. This sorrow will especially spring from the lack of honesty and courage in responding to the Lord's call in the particular examen. This contrition and sorrow is not a shame nor a depression at our weakness but a faith experience as we grow in our realization of our Father's awesome desire that we love Him with every ounce of our being. After this description, the value of pausing each day in formal examen and giving concrete expression to this abiding sense of sorrow in our hearts should be quite obvious and should flow naturally from the third element of practical survey of our actions. Hopeful Resolution for Future This final element of the formal daily examen grows very naturally out of the previous elements. The organic development leads us to face the future which is now rising to encounter us and become integrated into our lives. In the light of our present discernment of the immediate past how do we look to the future? Are we discouraged or despondent or fearful of the future? If this is the atmosphere of our hearts now, we must wonder why and try to interpret this atmosphere; we must be honest in acknowledging our feeling for the future, and not repress it by hoping it will go away. The precise expression of this final element will be determined by the organic flow of this precise examen now. Accordingly, this element of resolution for the immediate future will never happen the same way each time. If it did happen in the same expression each time, it would be a sure sign that we were not really entering into the previous four elements of the examen. At this point in the examen there should be a great desire to face the future with renewed vision and sensitivity as we pray both t~ recognize even more the subtle ways in which the Lord will greet us and to hear His Word call us in the existential situation of the future and to respond to His call with more faith, humility, and courage. This should be especially true of that intimate abiding experience of the Lord calling for painful conversion in some area of our heart - what we have called the particular examen. A great hope should be the atmosphere of our hearts at this point - a hope not founded on our own deserts, or our own powers for the future, but rather founded much more fully in our Father whose glorious victory in Jesus Christ we share through the life of Their Spirit in our hearts. The more we will trust God and allow Him to lead in our lives, the more we will experience true supernatural hope in God painfully in and through, but quite beyond, our own weak powers - an experience at times frightening and emptying but ultimately joyfully exhilarating. St. Paul in this whole passage from the Letter to the Philippians (3:7-14) expresses well the spirit of this conclusion of the formal examen: ". I leave the past behind and with hands outstretched to whatever lies ahead I go straight for the goal" (3:13). Examen and Discernment We will close this article with some summary remarks about the examen, as here described, and disceinment of spirits. When examen is understood in this light and so practiced each day, then it becomes so much more than just a brief exercise performed once or twice ~ day and which is quite secondary to our formal prayer Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 21 and active living of God's love in our daily situation. Rather it becomes an exercise which so focuses and renews our specific faith identity that we should be even more reluctant to omit our examen than our formal contemplative prayer each day. This seems to have been St. Ignatius' view of the practice of the examen. He never talks of omitting it though he does talk of adapting and abbreviating the daily meditation for various reasons. For him it seems the examen was central and quite inviolate. This strikes us as strange until we revamp our understanding of the examen. Then perhaps we begin to see the examen as so intimately connected to our growing identity and so important to our finding God in all things at all times that it becomes our central daily experience of prayer. For Ignatius finding God in all things is what life is all about. Near the end of his life he said that "whenever he wished, at whatever hour, he could find God" (Autobiography, # 99). This is the mature Ignatius who had so fully allowed God to possess every ounce of his being through a clear YES to the Father that radiated from the very core of his being, that he could be conscious at any moment he wanted of the deep peace, joy, and contentment (consolation, see the Exercises, # 316) which was the experience of God at the center of his heart. Ignatius' identity, at this point in his life, was quite fully and clearly "in Christ" as Paul says: "For now my place is in him, and I am not dependent upon any of the self-achieved righteousness of the Law" (Phil 3:9); Ignatius knew and was his true self in Christ. Being able to find God whenever he wanted, Ignatius was now able to find Him in all things through a test for congruenc~ of any interior impulse, mood, or feeling with his true self. Whenever he found interior consonance within himself (which registers as peace, joy, contentment again) from the immediate interior movement and felt himself being his true congruent self, then he knew he had heard God's word to him at that instant. And he responded with that fullness of humble courage so typical of Ignatius. If he discovered interior dissonance, agitation, and disturb-ance "at the bottom of the heart" (to be carefully distinguished from repugnance "at the top of the head''2) and could not find his true congruent self in Christ, then he recognized the interior impulse as an "evil spirit" and he experienced God by "going against" the desolate impulse (cf. Exercises, # 319). In this way he was able to find God in all things by carefully discerning all his interior experiences ("spirits"). Thus discernment of spirits became a daily very practical living of the art of loving God with his whole heart, whole body, and whole strength. Every moment of life was loving (finding) God in the existential situation in a deep quiet, peace, and joy. For Ignatius, this finding God in the prese.nt interior movement, feeling, or option was almost instantaneous in his mature years because the central "feel" or "bent" of his being had so been grasped by God. For the beginner, what was almost instantaneous for the mature Ignatius may require the effort of a prayerful process of a few hours or days depending on the importance of the movement-impulse to be discerned. In some of his writings, Ignatius uses examen to refer to this almost instantaneous test for congruence with his true self - something he could do a number of times every hour of the day. But he also speaks of examen in the formal restricted sense of two quarter-hour exercises of prayer a day. The intimate and essential relationship between these two senses of examen has been the point of this whole article. 2john Carroll Futrell, S.J., Ignatian Discernment (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 64. IEDWABD CARTIER, S.J. Pluralism in Christian Life [ Edward Carter, S.J., author of Response in Christ (1969) and Spirituality for Modern Man (197 I), is associate professor of theology at Xavier University ; Cincinnati, Ohio 4520"/.] There has always been a certain diversity which has characterized the history of Christian life or spirituality. There have been different schools of spirituality, different trends, different emphases; but all of these, in so far as they have been authentic, have been rooted in the same gospel message. They have, each in their own manner, been reflections of the one mystery of Christ. Today's Church is marked by an accentuation of this diversity in spirituality or Christian living. But before fastening our gaze upon the contemporary scene, let us first reflect upon some of the theological principles which give rise to this diversity or pluralism. The first of these principles concerns the mystery of Christ as relived by Church and Christian. The People of God, individually and collectively, are meant to continue the redemptive Incarnation in space and time by reliving the life, death, and resurrection of Christ - the mystery of Christ. The mystery of Christ, however, is richly d.iversified. Jesus in His life, death, and resurrection has left us many different truths and examples to be incorporated into our own Christian existence. Historically, this rich variation of the mystery of Christ has given rise to different schools of spirituality. Each of these gives a special witness to this or that aspect of the Christ-event, to its own particular harmonization and implementation of the various facets which comprise this event - the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. For instance, Carmelite spirituality has always stressed prayer, as it gives a special witness to the Christ who often went aside and prayed to His heavenly Father. Benedictine spirituality gives a special attention to liturgy, and, consequently, emphasizes the priestly activity of Christ. Dominican spirituality has traditionally stressed the pursuit of truth as it points in its own special manner to the prophetic or teaching office of Christ. Franciscan spirituality, among other things, has emphasized the material simplicity of Jesus' life. Ignatian spirituality has stressed as one of its leading characteristics the union of a~tion and contemplation - both of which were marvelously blended in the life of Jesus. In more recent times, in the effort to apply in a special way the mystery of Christ to the diocesan priesthood and to the laity, there have been writings dealing with the spiritualities appropriate to these two vocations. The mystery of Christ, then, possessing at one and the same time a varied richness and a profound unity, makes possible different spiritual movements which, however, ultimately comprise but one Christian spirituality. Consequently, we must preserve a balanced view. We must admit the legitimacy of varied spiritual movements and schools of spirituality with their own particular nuances in the following of Christ, while at the same time realizing that all Christian spiritualities are essentially the same. They have very much in common since they are rooted in the one Christ, in one and the same total Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 23 gospel, in one and the same liturgy. We have established what is a very basic theological reason for diversity in spirituality - the diversity which is contained in the very mystery of Christ. There are two more principles we would now like "to discuss which help us to see' the utility and even necessity of diversity or pluralism in the Christian life. These second and third principles are connected with what we might term the theology of personal uniqueness, and the theology of time and culture. The theology of personal uniqueness tells us that each human person is an eternal imitation of God. Any one individual can truthfully say that there never has been, is not now, nor ever will be, any other person like himself. Each person is a eternal uniqueness. As we are elevated to supernatural life through our incorporation into Christ, this personal uniqueness is .deepened. This is simply an application of the theological principle that grace does not destroy nor lessen nature, but perfects it, gives it a deepened capacity to actuate more deeply all its authentic dimensions. One of these dimensions is personal uniqueness. Our life in Christ, then, far from destroying or lessening our uniqueness, respects and develops it. There are various implications and ramifications flowing out of this theology of personal uniqueness relative to diversity or pluralism in spirituality. We have said that there are various spiritual movements and schools of spirituality because of the possibility of reliving the richly diversified .mystery of Christ with different emphases and nuances. As this diversity is possible between schools of spirituality, so is it possible in reference to individuals. Not only is it possible, but it is actually necessary because of the concept of personal uniqueness. No two Christians will put on Christ in exactly the same manner; for they put on Christ according to what each is. Although obviously each Christian is to assimilate Christ in essentially the same manner, he will also do it in a manner which cannot be duplicated. He will offer Christ his own unique person with his unique temperament, personality, capacities, and talents. Through the uniqueness of this Christian, Christ continues His redemptive Incarnation in a particular way, a way which cannot be duplicated. Consequently, even though two individuals are following the same spirituality - Dominican, Franciscan, Ignatian, or any other - there will be a difference or a diversity manifested as they live out this common spirituality. Sometimes this diversity will be quite striking. This does not mean that one or the other has wavered from the spiritual tradition to which each has committed himself or herself. Of course, such a diversity could be so explained in certain instances. But a diversity, and again even a striking one, could be present as each is authentically living out the one spiritual tradition which they profess in common. In such cases the diversity is to be explained by the principle of personal uniqueness. Furthermore, pluralism or diversity in the Christian life is found not only between the different spiritualities, not only between individuals, but also within the extended existence of the same individual. Contemporary thought has empha-sized that man and his world must be considered according to a framework which has a dynamic, progressive, evolutionary dimension. We now realize that we must not view man as being a static creature. While it is obviously important to realize that man is always essential!y the same throughout the ages, it is also very important to remember that man has a thrust toward change, toward evolving into what he is yet to become,.toward authentically adapting to the signs of the times. If such truths are applicable to mankind in general, they are also proportionately pertinent to each individual. Because each individual has an evolutionary dimen-. sion, a thrust toward that which has not yet been achieved, an innate desire to 24 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 become more what his uniqueness is destined to be, he is simultaneously always the same individual and always a dynamically different individual. One's personal uniqueness, then, has both an unchangeable and a changeable dimension. We can see the implications of this for one's Christian existence. Because the Christian is meant to change dynamically and evolve into a greater assimilation to Christ, his needs are not always the same. While he must always strive to maintain a proper balance of the Christian essentials according to his present spiritual condition and development, his needs may vary.'At a certain time he may be attracted to giving a considerable amount of time to formal prayer. At another time, while not neglecting set times of prayer, he may feel called to a greater external involvement for the cause of Christ. At certain periods of his life he may feel a need for frequent spiritual direction, while at other times the intervals of this direction will be greatly lengthened. A person can feel a graced attraction for the renunciation of certain created goods and values at one time, while at another he is drawn rather to use and relate to them in a proper fashion. While always striving to have a proper balance in his imitation of Christ, he can differ in his desire to focus his attention now on this, now on that event of Jesus' life, now on this truth of Christ, now on another. Spiritual diversity or pluralism, consequently, is present within the one and same Christian individual. Having seen how diversity is present in the Christian life because of the principle of pluralism contained in the very mystery of Christ, and because of the principle of personal uniqueness, we now come to our third and final principle which helps provide a basis for such diversity or pluralism. This principle deals with ideas contained in what can be called the theology of time and culture. In God's dealings with mankind, the concepts of time, or of historical situation, and culture, have played a very important role. In saving man, God works within time, history, and culture. His salvific action is not unnaturally superimposed upon man's historical and cultural situation. Rather, God's salvific process works within time, history, and culture. Consequently, His saving will throughout the continued course of salvation history manifests itself differently - diversely or pluralistically. This diversity or pluralism of God's salvific activity can in part be explained by the factor of historical and cultural exigency. A .classic example of this is the comparison between the old and new covenants. God's dealings with the people of the Mosaic covenant were conditioned both by the point of time in salvation history that was then actually operative, and the culture of the Jewish people. With the enfleshment of His Son and the ensuing formation of the new covenant, God communicated Himself in a manner partially different from that Self-communica-tion which prevailed during the time of the Mosaic covenant. If God's salvific activity has a pluralism or diversity attached to it because He respects the time-conditioned and culture-conditioned life situation of man, so must there be a similarly caused pluralism in Christian life. For the Christian life is radically a response to God's salvific activity, a response to His loving initiative which always precedes us. God's activity, respecting the differences which time and culture insert into human history, will exact differentiated responses from the Christian community. This differentiation or pluralism can exist between the various ages of the Church, and, therefore, we legitimately speak of the pre-dominant spirituality of the sixteenth century or of a certain period within the eighteenth century. This pluralism can also exist within the same age because of cultural differences. God respects the African culture, the Chinese culture, the American culture, and so forth. As Christians within these various cultures respond Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/I 25 to God's continued Self-communication, they will do so in a manner which is partly determined by their particular cultures. Because there are differences in their cultures, we will find a Christian pluralism arising out of these cultural differences. An African spirituality will differ somewhat from an American spirituality, and they both will differ from a Spanish spirituality. Up to this point we have been discussing basic truths and principles which offer a sound theological basis for pluralism in Christian spirituality. This pluralism, while obviously having a place in any age of Christianity, is an especially important dimension of contemporary Christian life; for today's Church offers a particularly advantageous climate for the development of authentic pluralism in Christian living. This favorable climate has developed because of the greater spirit of freedom which is present in today's Church. True, this greater freedom has been abused in many instances, but this fact cannot deny that God seems to intend this climate of expanded freedom in today's Church, for this freedom has emanated from the very truths and principles of Vatican II. The connection between pluralism and a Church which allows a greater freedom of thought and life style expression is obvious. In such a Church various thrusts of pluralism and diversity are bound to fructify more often than in a Church which is heavily monolithic, a Church which has its thought and life style too much imposed from the top down. The hierarchy will always have the leading role in directing the Christian thought and life style of the People of God, but it must do so according to the principle of collegiality. This principle allows for all members of the People of God to help shape the life of the Church. However, in order to flourish, collegiality needs a spirit of freedom, some elbow room in which to maneuver - and, yes, even in which to make some mistakes. Consequently, even though some are tempted to think at times that the greater freedom of today's Church has resulted in more harm than good, fundamentally this is not true. In the last analysis such a Church will be a healthier and more mature Church - and one characterized by a greater pluralism in her Christian life. There are already various examples of an increased pluralism in today's Christian life. For instance, the liturgical aspect of today's spirituality is greatly diversified when compared to the liturgical situation of ten years ago. As for the apostolic dimension of contemporary Christian life, there has been considerable discussion and implementation relative to pluralism in Christian ministry. Also, Christian life style is considerably more pluralistic today than previously. This greater diversity of life style can be found even within the one and same religious order or congregation. There has also been a much greater pluralism in theological thought, a pluralism which often filters down and makes its impact on spirituality, on Christian living. New and diversified forms of prayer have appeared to take their places alongside the traditional ones. These, then, are some indications that today's Christian life is marked by an increased diversity. There are three special qualities which are necessary to live properly in today's Christian community with its increased pluralism. These qualities are not mutually exclusive. There is an overlap between them, but each has its own particular nuance. First of all, there is the need for an increased awareness of the necessity of spiritual discernment. Among the diverse movements in today's Church, which are really Spirit-led? And after I satisfy myself as to which are Spirit-inspired and which are not, which one does the Spirit intend for me personally? Regardless of any particular age of the Church, the Spirit does not intend any one person to incorporate within his own Christian existence all authentic thought styles and life 26 Review for Religious, Volume 3 I, 1972/i styles. But in an age when authentic possibilities have been greatly increased and diversified, the necessity for spiritual discernment becomes more obvious. To cope properly with today's pluralism we also especially need the quality of Christian maturity. Increased diversity within the Church demands increased maturity. In the more tightly structured and monolithic Church of pre-Vatican II days, we had things spelled out for us in much greater detail compared to the situation which prevails today. The Church of today is asking us to exercise a greater maturity, a more mature use of our freedom, as we are called upon to live responsibly in a more pluralistic Church. The Church is asking us to use our greater freedom properly, not to abuse it, but to direct it, among other ways, at the development of an authentic pluralism. Finally, besides an increased sense of Christian discernment and maturity, there is a special need today for the spirit of Chrisitan tolerance - a tolerance of the views and life styles which do not agree with my own. The need for this spirit of tolerance is indeed evident if only we look at what each of us has experienced in recent years. One of the great pains of the post-Vatican I1 Church is precisely that caused by the numerous and diverse viewpoints which have arisen in the contem-porary Church. This spirit of tolerance, of course, does not mean we condone what we think is wrong. It does mean, though, an increased effort at being open to the views of others, an admission that a more greatly diversified Church is intended by the signs of the times, a realization that we are all more likely to make mistakes in such a situation as we grope for the lead of the Spirit, a lead which at times is much more hidden than we would like because of the confusion of a Church and world experiencing a radical transition. A more diversified Church and a more pluralistic Christian life are what we are all experiencing. We can say, as perhaps all of us have been tempted to say at one time or another during recent years, that it is too difficult to cope consistently with the situation. We have all, no doubt, been tempted to withdraw from the struggle which an increasingly pluralistic Church demands. We have been tempted to carve out our own little niche of Christian existence and there lead an unperturbed life and let all the confusion of a Church striving for authentic renewal and pluralism pass us by. If we surrendered to such a temptation, we would avoid a certain kind of pain and suffering. But we would also be missing the joy and sense of accomplishment which result from contributing our share to the shaping of a contemporary Christian life - one characterized, among other things, by an increased pluralism. DAVID K. 0'ROURKE, 0.P. Three Models for Viewing Religious Life [David K.O'Rourke, O.P:, is the prior of the Berkeley Priory; 1730 Arch Street; Berkeley, California 94709; he is also associate professor of pastoral theology in St. Albert's College and in the Graduate Theological Onion of Berkeley and is associate director of the Western Dominican Province's Pastoral Training Program. I The purpose of this article is to give a structured view of some of the reasons why a man may choose to enter religious life. More specifically, it is an attempt to understand in a schematic and rationalized way, with three different and distinct models, what there is in the religious life that brings a potential member to view it as a viable alternative to the several possibilities in the lay life. Obviously, this means that I see the religious life as a viable alternative, and such is the case. There is always the possibility that an analysis of religious motivations and structures can come from, or be seen as, an attempt to undercut religious life. The fact that analyses of this sort have been known to have the heavy-handedness of an autopsy supports these fears. Such is not my purpose. I presuppose that religious life is livable and worthwhile, and I presuppose this because I have seen it to be so for myself and others. Of course, there are pathological reasons why one may choose to enter a religious community. These have been analyzed with ability and insight. My purpose here is to apply the same analytic approach to the valid and healthy reasons that enter into a sound vocation. This latter comment is significant because it points out the pragmatic and experiential quality of the approach I will follow in this article. There are other approaches, ones which would begin on a more absolute and theocentric note, or ones which could begin in a less concrete and more "spiritual" way. I have no argument with them. I presuppose all they might say. Here I limit myself to the more human and concrete elements which enter into an individual's decision. It will also be noted that I am speaking here of male religious. This does not mean that the ideas presented here are not applicable to women religious. However, the ideas in this article are drawn from experience with male religious and in fact might not be applicable to women. My experience with women religious has been limited primarily to counseling those in the process of leaving their communities. Obviously this would give me a one-sided view, so I will leave the question of applicability to the ladies themselves. To begin with, and again noting that my view is of healthy reasons, I see people entering religious life in order to make sense of their lives. With the approach of adulthood a young man is faced with the need of stating for himself who he is, the better to enter into the tasks and relationships that face him. The answer to the question "Who am I?" is critical for his future life. Now it is fairly certain, I imagine, that very few men, save in the hands of TV script writers, actually pose the question "Who am I?" in so many words. Yet, faced with choosing their education, their type and place of employment, their friends, and the need to 28 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 establish a different, more independent relationship with their families, they are in fact faced with the question "Who am 17" And the answers that each makes to these questions, the decisions he maizes about his education, employment, and human relationships will bring into play and firm up the values that will give the ethical dimension to his self-view. It is my experience that the choice for a life within the context of a religious community can be understood in this light. To make this understanding more concrete 1 propose to speak about three models of religious life which have occurred to me, and which bespeak three rather functionally significant aspects of life. They are functionally significant, as I put it, in that by their individual and interwoven appeal they can be seen to account for a major portion of our religious vocations. These three models are the service model, the life style model and the intellectual model. I will speak of each in turn. The service model entails the desire to help, and the process of being helpful to, others. It means a self-view in which the helping process looms large. Asked the question "Who am I?" the answer would be "I am a person who helps others." Obviously, this desire to help and the actual fact of serving can take many forms. In fact it has taken many forms in the course of the Church's history. The many religious groups dedicated to education, to caring for the sick and old, and in general to meeting the needs of those in need, bear eloquent witness to the institutionalization of the service model. Viewing this model further within the context of self-identity, we can single out the following additional elements. By definition it is other-oriented. There is a relational quality which predominates. The individual's energies turn outward from himself to another person or persons. Furthermore, the medium by which the individual religious relates to others is the work he performs for them. This bespeaks a certain type of personality. 1 might add here that the notion of a "personality type" does not imply some sort of pathology. Rather, it is no more than the recognition that the abilities, interests, likes, and dislikes of any individual will lead him to interact with the world around him in such a way that we can note patterns of similarity between certain individuals. The second of the models is the life style model. This is really quite different from the service model. Again using the question of identity, the individual attracted by this model would identify himself by referring to the way he goes about the details of his life. Its scheduling and disciplines, its structures such as the patterns of collective prayer, communality in housing, dress, and table all point to a definite and institutionalized way of life. And it is a style of life to which the individual adapts himself. Again, this life style model has had a long history in the Church. It typifies all those groups which we call monastic and can be seen as the most notable element in monasticism. The relational quality in the life style model is also quite different from that in the service model. Here the relationship is in large part with the individual himself. This might seem strange since there are so many external acts and tangible elements that go into the daily life of a monastic community and to which the individual is called on to relate and respond. But they are things whereby he can give to himself a shape and forming consonant with the values embodied in this style of life. It might seem that this life style model is not only different from but runs counter to the service model. In many ways this is true. It is difficult to say that a way of life that is oriented to helping others is basically the same as a way of life that is oriented toward helping one's self. I do not claim that they are basically the Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 29 same but quite the contrary. My purpose here is, once again, to state that these models are real, that they are articulated in these ways, and that they function in the lives of those in religious life. The third model of religious life 1 wish to go into is the intellectual model. This differs from the above two in that it denotes an approach that is typified not as much by action as by a state of mind. The individual who is attracted by this approach is an individual who enters situations head first. He is interested in knowing the reason why.Faced with the question of self-identity he answers "I am a person who must make sense of things, and to do so I must know why they are the way they are." Does this really differ from the other two? I find that it definitely does, that it is not just an aspect of either of the first two models. The individual drawn by the service model is not about to question the value of serving others. Its value is self-evident. The individual drawn by the life style model is content with the fact that to him this way of life feels right. The individual characterized by the intellectual model is by nature a questioner. Whatever the emotional or other causes, the result is an approach typified by a series of probing questions. Furthermore, his questioning will often be directed toward the other two models. Is this the person we should help? Is this the way to help? What are our priorities here, and are they correct? Is this monastic life appropriate? Why do you like it? Is it worthwhile, does it make sense? In relating to others he does so with a question on his lips. This question stems from his need to make intellectual sense of his world. He confronts, he challenges, he probes, often in a way offensive to those who do not understand his way of doing things. There is an analytic and evaluative process at work, one which can lead to a further integration into the religious life, but which can also appear to be negative and destructive. It can be argued that the individual drawn into religious life by the intellectual model is basically looking into someone else's way of doing things. What are his own supports and values? To answer perhaps oversimply, his chief support is the process itself of analyzing. As long as he is able to continue trying to make sense of things he will be sufficiently at home with himself to survive with some comfort. In addition, there is the more important question of this person's utility t6 the community around him. Does his probing and examining of his community's emotional, theological, financial, and mythological supports serve any purpose? I think it does. The Church in its history, at least in its more self-reflective periods, has tried to build in mechanisms for self-criticism. Granted, this has been with mixed success at best. But we do hold our own critics in some real esteem, at least in hindsight. In addition, we have institutionalized this critical process in those areas of moral theology which deal with concrete issues. The Church and the religious life, at least on the theoretical level, havealways had a place for the analyser, and the capacity of the institution to tolerate its critics is a sign of its maturity. It might also be helpful to point out, finally, that the questioning by this individual does not come necessarily from an opposition to those things he questions. It is analysis, it is not attack. It might well be hard to put up with, but it is primarily this person's way of relating to the world around him. At this point 1 would again like to point out that each of these models is a partial view, and each one does typify real people. Any one of these models is sufficiently capable of absorbing the energies of an individual to provide for him a rather complete view of his vocation. The fact that the model might bespeak a limited 30 Review for Religious, Volume 3 I, 1972/1 approach, in fact does bespeak a limited approach, is both true and irrelevant. The energies and interests of any one individual are always limited. What I am here maintaining is that this limitation has a recoghizable shape to. it, and that in my experience the diversity in these shapes can be viewed in the light of these three models without notable distortion. The fact of limitation can also have aspects to it which are not quite as neutral as might seem to be the case from the above statements. I would like to single out the types of difficulties that can and do arise with each of these models. The service model, as noted above, will be attractive to the person whose identity receives outward expression in helping others. Obviously, this means that this individual will be oriented toward work, since service reqhires work. In certain situations the outlet for helping others is rather severely cut off. This is the case in many novitiates, and especially during academic studies. Here the student is expected to channel his energies in ways which are different from those to which he is accustomed, and this does not come easy. I would suspect that much of the criticism directed against seminary studies has this at its root. The students are not so much opposed to study as they are frustrated in their desire, indeed their need, to expend their energies in the way that comes most easily to them. A basic pattern of relating is frustrated, and this frustration is going to make itself felt. In addition we can expect that any notable frustration in the attempt to be of service is going to cause stress for this individual. Whether the frustration comes from competing requirements, such as studies, or from official interference, or from the rejection of the services offered, the result will be the same - a sense of disorientation that the individual will be hard pressed to cope with. Of all these possibilities probably the most troubling is the rejection of help offered because it is so final and does not admit of alternatives. When the rejected help is the product of considerable effort and the result of a great in~,estment on the part of the individual, the effect can be devastating. Religious who place great stock in their work and are told at some point th::t what they have been preparing for or what they have already been doing is no longer needed are prime examples of this. Their crisis is not a minor one but one that can shake them to the roots of their personality. There is also the danger that the individual attracted by this model - or any of these three, for that matter - will not be a particularly self-reflective person. In this case he is not apt to see that his way of doing things - the particular model that attracts him, or his way of putting it to work - has some subjective and personal need-fulfilling sources to it. His way becomes absolutized, his way becomes the way, and other ways are to be adapted and refashioned in support of his. Furthermore, explaining to the non-reflective person, presenting him with an intelligible rationale which tells him why his view is too narrow, is a waste of time. By definition, by virtue of the fact that he is non-reflective, he will be unable to grasp tiffs. It is asking him to use a weak or undeveloped faculty. It is much better to present him with the conclusion, that is, that others are not going to adapt to suit him, and help him cope with it as best he can. With the person attracted by the life style model, the limitations are of quite another sort. We can pinpoint them by observing that monastic practices have considerable similarities in Christian and non-Christian traditions. It is possible to be a good monk, as the Buddhist monastic tradition bears witness, without being a Christian. There is thus nothing basically Christian about monasticism; it is one of the ways man has invented for living a human life. Also, monasticism can have an Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 31 absolute character to it; it can engage all the time and energies of the monk in a pattern of meditative, penitential, and ritual practices. In addition there is a certain absolutism in Christianity. The life and teachings of Jesus, our knowledge of the early Church from the Acts and St. Paul, and the subsequent development of both these in the life of the Church and in its theology, point out that the half-hearted and lukewarm Christian life is to be shunned in favor of greater commitment. The danger here is to make the mistake of equating monastic absolutism with Christian absolutism. 1 believe that when this happens it does so because monastic absolutism presents an articulated, structured, and circumscribed channel for the Christian's desire to get in touch with what is absolute. In its most extreme form this would be to equate becoming one with the monastic absolute, that is, becoming absorbed, as it were, by the monastic life st~,le, with being one with God. It seems more exact to say that what has happened here is the substitution of a collective human structure for the individual personality, a process of quite questionable morality. But this is an extreme. Our focus here is the garden variety of problem that' comes from the life style model. The one I see to be common and troubling is the equation of religious life as a whole with the life style model. It is easy to see how this happens. Since it is the life style model that deals most directly with externals, especially with those externals which differentiate religious life from lay life, it is easy to equate these tangible and visible elements with religious life. This is a beginner's problem, and except in one area we seem to outgrow it. The exception has to do with the process of introducing new members. They are frequently placed under the direction of someone who is rather committed to the life style model. In large part I think this is due to the expectations of the incoming members, whose focus on visible and external elements is quite normal. It is also due, I suspect, to the guilt of work-oriented superiors about the lack of this model in their own lives, and for which they compensate in the choice of formation superiors. Be the cause what it may, it stacks the deck against a broader and more complete view of the opportunities present in the religious life. The problems in the intellectual model come, as with the others, from the very heart of the model. The intellectually oriented person is probably more developed in the thinking than in the feeling area. He will have less appreciation for the areas of religious life that utilize the feeling side, such as the symbolic and liturgical. This lack can become a real problem, for it can lead to an intolerance of any areas and elements which do not admit of the clear-cut, sharp-edged, and logical approach that is possible in the mind. Having viewed these three models there remains only one major comment I wish to make about them. It is fairly common to recognize that religious, like other people, will be oriented in one direction rather than another, that they have definite personalities, likes, dislikes, abilities, and weaknesses. And having recog-nized this, it is also common to forget it, to hope and expect that the individual will work out a personal balance including significant elements from each of these models. This is often raised to the level of an ideal, the religious equivalent of the well-rounded individual. This expectation is unrealistic, and it can be disastrous. A person who is drawn into religious life by the service model, and for whom the service model represents an important expression of his personal makeup, is quite apt not to be attracted by the life style model. If he is not, then any attempt to make him respond as though he were attracted by it probably won't work. If this is an importarit element in the 32 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 life of the group he is entering, then he should not enter it. If the religious group requires only some token observance of the life style model, recognized as token, then he can be expected to put up with it in the way any mature person can be expected to put up with things he doesn't like. But if the life style model, in fact, be important in the life of this community, then he shouldn't be there in the first place. There is no way, short of self-delusion, to get around the simple but difficult fact that he is in the wrong place. The hopes that he will change, that he will develop an appreciation for this view, are as futile as they are potentially destructive. The probable result will be complaining, fault-finding, and after considerable turmoil, departure for some situation where he can be of service to others and where he should probably have been in the first place. The same is true of the other models. The individual who comes to religious community because he wants and needs the structured, orderly life that comes from the life style model cannot realistically be expected to work and function well where these do not exist. If the life style model is part of the whole pattern of life there will be no problem. If, as is often the case, it is part of the seminary structure, after which the individual is expected to shift to a service model and provide his own working and personal structures, then there is going to be a dangerous situation, possibly involving a personal collapse. Similarly~ the individual drawn to religious life in order to make sense of his life, where making sense bespeaks an intellectual approach, cannot be expected to make a shift from this approach to another one. The fact that the particular style of life which he is asked to enter, and which he can't intellectually organize, might "feel right" to others will mean nothing to him and will probably antagonize him. The same applies to a work situation. "This is the way we do things here," or "This has always been our system" may be satisfying answers to some people. They will not satisfy this individual. He will be disturbed and disturbing until he is given a reason why. If none is to be forthcoming then it is better that he not work in that context. Some religious groups, such as my own Dominican Order, do combine these different models. But the combination is one of tension. We recognize that the tension is there, and we expect our members to tolerate it. We do not expect to be able to resolve it and thus demand that our members pay the price for maintaining the several elements which we see to be of value. There should be no question, however, but that there is a price to be paid. In summary, then, 1 see these models as expressions of personality patterns which do exist in reality. Whatever be the cultural or psychological causes here, experience seems to point out that we can speak of people who live their lives using the service of others, a structured life style, and an intellectual understanding of far-reaching reasons as means for ordering their lives. Furthermore, these patterns are often firm and definite. And, they are incorporated to differing degrees in the makeup of different religious groups. It seems crucial to me that, for everyone's benefit, religious groups should determine their own basic orientation and recruit their members accordingly. NICHOLAS AYO, C.S.C. Variance in the Religious Vows: What Poverty, Why Chaste, Who Obey? [Nicholas Ayo, C.S.C., is a member of the Department of English at the University of Portland ; Portland, Oregon 97203. ] No observer can fail to notice that the religious life under the three vows is undergoing considerable reinterpretation and change. Part of the explanation lies with the sweeping changes revising social and religious institutions throughout the world. What remains in doubt is how far-reaching these reinterpretations have become, and whether they should be viewed substantially as renewal or more as a distortion. The purpose of this essay is not primarily to evaluate the changes in religious life, although to an extent that kind of judgment is inevitable in the very selecting aud ordering of materials, but rather to describe the alternative vow styles that can be observed and to some degree categorized. After the ground has been as accurately mapped as possible, I shall offer some tentative conclusions concerning the progress and direction of the religious life in these days of not only "monasteries without walls," but also "monasteries for sale." In the history of the religious life, the three vows of poverty (goods of the hands and the earth), chastity (goods of body and the heart), and obedience (goods of the mind and the will) are late developments. From the very beginnings of the following of the Gospels in a radical form, there has always been, of course, some kind of interior dedication, if nothing more than a promise made to God alone in one's heart. For those living in comnmnity, a single vow of obedience, or stability, or poverty, or not to tnarry was often considered sufficiently embracive of all the areas of property, family, and discipline required to maintain the well being of a Christian community. What the three vows accomplished did not amount to additional demands upon a total dedication to following the gospel in a radical way, which even the hermit understood welt enough before God, but rather a more explicit determination of a "way of life" that the Church could specify and direct attention to as evangelical by profession and recognized publicly as such by the People of God through their bishops. Poverty Let us look at the three vows separately. Poverty usually is considered first, although apparently for no intrinsic reason. The advantageous effects of poverty depend upon some minimum ownership and use of goods and property. One may retain enough, of course, for life's needs. Destitution distorts poverty. The benefits of poverty, however, were not discovered by Christians. Property of its nature tends to encumber a person, saps his attention, and devours his freedom. The posses-sions- own-you syndro~ne has been with the world a long time. Auyone who owns an expensive yacht, or whatever, may well feel obligated to make use of it, whether 34 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 any longer inclined to or not. Moreover, it takes time, effort, and supervision to maintain an estate, to cultivate, guard, protect, insure, and in all respects properly manage property. Without this effort, the property is sooner or later lost or ruined. The more the wealth, the more the management; and even if managers are hired, the owner has to manage the managers. Property, therefore, unless carefully chosen and curtailed according to one's real needs, easily becomes a burden and actually impedes freedom instead of enhancing it. The pagans knew this, and modern man suspects all too often his convenience machines run him. They must be maintained according to their schedule, not his. Only the man who travels light moves without care. Historically, the ancient monasteries sooner or later acquired great wealth, and contemporary religious orders have amounted to multi-million-dollar operations. Someone has to manage the concerns as well as the property of these institutions. To help preserve the virtue of poverty in those Christians, whether in vows or not, whose task in life demanded the use of the power and goods of the rich, the concept of "stewardship" was evolved. Accordingly, one's labors as manager of millions of dollars were not directed to one's power and prestige, but rather to the commonweal. The steward was merely a servant.whose job was to invest and order goods and services for others. Many. contemporary religious see their vow of poverty in this light. United Air Lines credit cards and new Chevrolets are merely tools, necessary in a modern and affluent world, to get a job done. The heart of th.e religious vowed to poverty ought to remain free of the contamination of wealth, even while he or she has free access to the benefits that only the at least moderately rich enjoy. Poverty of Spirit, a sense of detachment, thus assumes the essence of the vow of poverty. How one uses property, not the quantity and kind of property, becomes the key question. However, from this position, too, a counterinsight arises. The argument goes like this. Granted stewardship is necessary and can be sanctified, it still falls short of the spiritual advantages of actual material poverty. Not everyone need share the poverty of the poor, of course, but those who wish to might vow to do so in an actual and explicit way. Francis of Assisi led a vanguard of those who sold everything, and in sandals alone followed the gospel. In modern times, the carefree poverty of a Francis is difficult to achieve literally - leather sandals can be very expensive. But some groups of religious monks, like the Little Brothers of Charles de Foucauld, do live a simple, inexpensive life, as do their secular monkish counterpart, the sleeping-bag, thumb-riding "hippies" of the 'back-to-the-earth counterculture. This phenomenon demonstrates once more that the advantages of material poverty are not recognized solely by those who follow Jesus Christ alone, although for the believer, identification with the man .of Nazareth, who had nowhere to lay his head, adds a significant core motive. The insight that validates material poverty as such amounts to this. The steward of wealth, while he may well keep his heart unattached, still enjoys the benefits of wealth. He is well cared for and comfortable, and so much the worse for him. Only those who know real want know life in a depth that becomes readily and spontaneously religious. Those who know not where tomorrow's food is coming from have a capacity to appreciate a piece of bread and a cup of cold water as the well-fed can never imagine. The poor know what creaturehood means - to be finite and finally powerless to hold onto one's life and keep everything within one's control. Actually, the rich man does not hold his life securely in his hands either, for accident and microbe strike without distinction of bank account; but the rich Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 35 man can surround himself with apparent defenses, fences, and doctors, who lend him the illusion that he is not finally in fact vulnerable, as the poor man well knows from his own experience. In the living out of actual poverty, virtues such as gratitude for the help of others, heartfelt thanks to God, and sharing alike with others flourish. Faced with helplessness and forced back on basic needs - food, shelter, and friends - it seems far simpler to discover the truth about one's self, that is, one is only a man, naked at birth and destined to dust; masks, poses, the power that corrupts, illusions of bright lights, and life without tragedy, cannot survive the facts. While the rich can hide from the human condition, the poor man knows that to be human is to be vulnerable, even while remaining appreciative, wondering, deeply aware of others, and alive with the radical truth that God alone suffices: "That is why I tell you, don't worry about life, wondering what you are going to eat. And stop bothering about what clothes you will need. Life is much more important than food, and the body more important than clothes. Think of the ravens. They neither sow nor reap, and they have neither store nor barn, but God feeds them. And how much more valuable do you think you are than birds?" (Lk 12:22-5). One further interpretation of poverty deserves mention, because some religious hold to this style, although many point out its fallacy. The position argues that although the group may be wealthy, the individual lives under a spirit of Christian communism - to each according to his need. Needs vary according to status and job, and so does the use of wealth. Actually this p, osition is a variety of the stewardship position, except that it removes the responsibility for management from the individual conscience and invests it in the hierarchical leadership of the group. The individual can thus use any amount of property in peace of conscience provided the group authority has given its approval. The critics of this position, of course, reply that no individual with the vow of poverty can abdicate his responsibility to remain poor, any more than a citizen can automatically wage war simply because his government approves the conflict. Celibacy At first consideration, celibacy seems a necessary concomitant of group living, and group living in a Christian community seems a continuation of the sharing of goods and life outlined in Acts, a sharing which foreshadows the coming of the kingdom. Why groups of families historically have not been able to maintain community living is not easily determined. Through the centuries there have been numerous attempts to do so, from the Brook Farm experiment of our American origins to the communes of 1970, but none have been long lived. Monasteries with single people and strict discipline managed to stay together, but familial groupings have not. No intrinsic reason seems evident to me why Christian community life could not incorporate families, but in practice celibates have a better record of success. The "efficiency model" for the vow of chastity (or celibacy as it might more fairly and accurately be called) emerges from just this insight. For, either it is argued that community life, that is, shared goods and shared inner life, demands celibacy, or even more persuasively it is maintained that a greater freedom for apostolic work becomes available to the single man or woman. Despite the counterarguments of successful and busy married doctors and politicians, it is claimed that a fulltime apostolate often needs a mobility that the person with a family can hardly enjoy without imposing on his family, especially on his children, 36 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 who unlike his wife, did not know in advance what they were getting into. The celibate can work for less money, move locations quickly, and risk his life and health with less fear of the consequences t'o others to whom he is committed and responsible. The input that a generous and inspirational wife might add to a married man's apostolic work is often parried with the negative effects of an unhappy home life in the case of many married "apostles." In short, the argument states that the layman may enlist in the army of Christ, but the celibates will always make up the marines. Besides the "community life" and the "apostolic efficiency" justifications, an appeal for embracing the celibate life may include the "legal status quo." For example, to be a priest, at least today, includes celibacy as part of the package, and when the motivation for the priesthood is high, it can and does override the desire to marry. Actually many men and women remain in celibate vows because by age or inclination they no longer want marriage or children; no't a small number of middle-aged celibates fail to see what overwhelming competition the married state offers the celibate, if children are not a primary consideration. What this reluctance to marry may mean, however, is that many now in celibate vows would have married and raised a family at an earlier age, had the climate of acceptance for such vocational decisions been as good twenty years ago as it is today. Late marriages, of course, will always seem less attractive. If all practical reasons of whatever kind are set aside, whet today might motivate the vow of celibacy? A keen sense of vocation, of being chosen and being called, seems uppermost in many celibate vocational decisions. There is a sense of the mystery behind the destiny of any person, whether to marriage or to single life for the sake of the kingdom: "You have not chosen me, but I have chosen you," and "Everyman who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or land for my sake will receive it all back many times over, and will inherit eternal life" (Mt 19:29). The celibate vocation remains very much on the defensive today. If formerly marriage was considered a second-rate vocation, it is clear that the atmosphere of sexual fulfillment as a necessary ingredient for maturity and personality growth has left the celibate vocation almost in need of a "single's lib" movement. Those who thrive within the celibate vocation seem to have developed a profotind awareness that no man can run the entire gamut of human experience. One life style cancels out another; there are advantages to restraint as well as to delight. Those who are married have a set of pluses and minuses, which while they differ from the pros and the cons of the celibate, may indeed total out to an equivalent sum. Robert Frost's lines "I have chosen the road less travelled by / And it has made all the difference," or Thomas More's apologia in A Man for All Seasons, namely, I choose to believe this because I choose, may finally be the ultimate explanation for a vocation. There is no adequate reason that can be formulated and presented convincingly to any other open-minded person that he should go and do likewise. One is dealing with the kind of radical freedom exercised in choosing a spouse. I marry Susan because I choose Susan, not for any catalog of virtues that would automatically persuade every other reasonable man to marry Susan. Finally, many celibates do experience a discovery in the expanded opportunities for well-developed and often protracted friendships with someone of the opposite sex. Such friendships often enrich their life and yet confirm their vocation to celibacy. The insight that emerges is this. Any deep bisexual friendship demands cultivation, ingenuity, time, effort, emotional energy, imagination, and thoughtful- Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 37 ness. One may conclude that there can be only one dominant psychological center in one's life for any length of time; and if a deep cultivated life of prayer and practi

Issue 50.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1991. This is a special 50th anniversary issue on Ignatian spirituality. ; Review for Religious Volume 50 ¯ Number 1 January/February 1991 Ignatian Spirituality Ellard ¯ Grace ¯ Barry ¯ Ong ¯ Klaas Murphy ¯ Divarkar ¯ Cannon ¯ Fischer Fleming ¯ Flynn ¯ Townsend ¯ Wickham REVIEW FOR R~;Uc~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 Lindell Blvd., Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVIEW FOR Rr:LI(;Iot,sP.O. Box 6070; Duluth. MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mail-ing costs; two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover fi)r subscription information and mailing costs. 01991 Rv.w~.:w voa RELII;IOUS. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Micheal G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David J. Hassel, S.J. Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. January/February 1991 Volume 50 Number I Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editnr should be sent to Rt:\'~t:w t't~a Rt:u~aous; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. lamis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Eliza-beth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. Back issues shnuld be ordered from Rt:w~:w voa Rt:~J~;~ous; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. la~uis, MO 63108-3393. "Oat Df 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 10010. Review for Religious Volume 50, 1991 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis. Missouri 63108-3393 David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR REL~GOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright© 1991 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion of each issue of R~wEw FOR RZL~G~OUS is also regu-larly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually im-paired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS begins its fiftieth year of publication with this issue. To celebrate, we are dedicating this entire issue to contemporary reflections on Ignatian spirituality, the spirituality that enlivened and in-spired the three founding editors--Augustine Ellard, Adam Ellis, and Ger-ald Kelly, all Jesuit priests. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has never been identified as the publication of a particular school of spirituality or of one religious-life tradition. In the vision of the founding editors, the journal was to serve all religious-life communities and at the same time to be a forum for the wide exchange of ideas and developments in the spiritual life and apostolic mission of the Church itself. Over the years all religious groups and spiritual-life traditions have been represented among the authors and through the arti-cles found in the pages of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. The strength and the ap-peal of the journal have been in its broadening of our horizons for both understanding and developing our Catholic spiritual and apostolic lives. To use the imagery recalled in the title of this foreword, the authors and articles have given us various prisms through which we can view from various angles the Christian calling to be with Jesus in the bringing about of the reign of God. This issue, however, in one sense narrows that focus and centers on lgnatian spirituality, not just as a tribute to the founding editors, but also as a particular contribution to the celebration of the lgnatian anniversaries~50 years from the founding of the Society of Jesus and 500 years from the birth of Ignatius Loyola. The contribution which Ig-natius has made to the spiritual vitality of Christian life is especially evi-denced in the widespread retreat experience of laity, clergy, and religious according to the method of the Spiritual Exercises. At its beginnings, lg-natian spirituality played an important role in the Church renewal stimu-lated by the Council of Trent. In a similar way, since Vatican II the lg-natian tradition of discernment has been key to religious chapter renewal and choice of apostolic mission, in addition to personal and parish re-newal. Because of the widespread influence of this lgnatian tradition over the centuries on both the Christian devotional life and the de-velopment of religious-life forms, the decision was made to let this is- Review for Religious, Janua13,-February 1991 sue take its "Ignatian" shape from various unsolicited articles recently submitted for possible publication and from a few "classical" Ignatian articles reprinted from earlier issues. One of the founding editors, Father Augustine Ellard, S.J., provides us with an overall review of the elements of Ignatian spirituality; when the article was originally published in 1952, it was one of a series on vari-ous religious-life spiritualities. Two other articles drawn from early past issues deal with the meaning of the A.M.D.G. motto and its directional value for our living (written by Walter Ong, S.J.) and with the retreat movement as influenced by the Ignatian Exercises (written by Augustine Klaas, S.J.). Parmananda Divarkar, S.J., touches upon the apparent Ignatian para-dox between a growing sense of personal freedom and an ever more bind-ing loyalty to Christ and to his Church; he finds his reflections embod-ied in the former superior general of the Society of Jesus, Father Pedro Arrupe. In a similar way, William Barry, S.J., traces the development of a freeing experience in the self-and-God imagery of Ignatius as a possi-ble model for our own growth. In their two articles, David Townsend, S.J., and David Fleming, S.J., consider two different aspects of the lg-natian prayer tradition captured in the contemporary phrases of "find-ing God" and "centering." In two articles which specifically consider the Spiritual Exercises, John Wickham, S.J., introduces us to a deeper appreciation of the com-munal dimensions involved in the Ignatian Exercises, while Dr. Helen Murphy shares her experience of familiarizing people, particularly col-lege students, with the movements of the Exercises. William Barry, S.J., proposes an understanding of discernment as particularlyrelevant to the spiritual crisis of our time. Then in two articles reflecting on ministry today, David Fleming, S.J., points to the "secret" of an Ignatian way of ministering, and James Flynn, S.J., reviews the contemporary collabo-rative effort to share the lgnatian spirit among all the parties who make up a complex apostolic institution, such as a Jesuit university. What Ig-natian spirituality, especially in the form found in the Christian Life Com-munities, has meant to lay people is reflected in Mrs. Ligeia Cannon's article. How deeply intertwined Ignatian spirituality is with the Church's devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus inspires a fresh and invigorating re-examination by Edmond Grace, S.J. The book-review section, too, centers on Ignatian spirituality. Be-sides the reviews of three recently published books dealing with Ignatian spirituality, with the Spiritual Exercises in daily life, and with the per- Prisms sonal diary of the Jesuit John Eagan, Philip Fischer, S.J., provides a sum-mary introduction to the many publications of the Institute of Jesuit Sources since its beginning in the 1960s. He also calls our attention to some of the books dealing with Ignatian themes which have recently ap-peared or have been published consistently by certain other publishing houses. We hope that the authors and their articles in this unique issue pro-vide all our readers with a way to share in the celebration of the Ignatian anniversaries and the fiftieth anniversary of this journal. The editors also want to express our deep appreciation for the cover design produced by Thomas Rochford, S.J., and Michael Harter, S.J., which sets off and marks this issue as special. For those who may want to share this issue with others, individual copies can be ordered from the editorial offices in St. Louis at $3.50 plus $1.50 for postage and handling. Ad multos annos! David L. Fleming, S.J. Ignatian Spirituality Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. Father Augustine Ellard, S.J., along with Fathers Adam Ellis, S.J., and Gerald Kelly, S.J., is a founding editor of REvw.w FOR RF~.~C~OUS. These three Jesuits re-mained the editorial board for the first fifteen years of the journal. The following article was published in the May 1952 issue. Although some of the militaristic stress of Ignatian spirituality would be mitigated by commentators today, the article re-mains an excellent summary of lgnatian principles. Father Ellard died on February 17, 1970--the last of the founding editors to die. I Ignatian spirituality is one of the modern schools. It acknowledges its jun-ior status, and gladly and gratefully accepts the rich inheritance that the older schools of Catholic spiritual tradition have put at its disposal. Fa-ther Dudon, in his St. Ignatius of Loyola, devotes the whole of chapter twelve to showing that just when he was working out his own ideas and ideals, St. Ignatius was under the influence of a rather large number of different currents of spirituality. The two principal instruments of his con-version were the Life of Christ by Ludolph of Saxony and the Lives of the Saints by Jacopo de Voragine. The former was a Carthusian, and the latter a Dominican. Ignatius often thought: "St. Dominic did this, St. Francis that; should not I also do as they?" As a matter of fact, for a time he thought of becoming a Carthusian. His favorite book through-out life was Thomas ~. Kempis; thus he put himself in debt to the "De-votio Moderna" that the Brothers of the Common Life and the monks of Windesheim were propagating. These three works were major forces in his formation. In addition to these he came under the personal influ-ence of the Benedictines at Montserrat, of the Dominicans with whom he lived at Manresa, of the Franciscans, of the Hieronymites, of the Cis-tercians, and probably of others also. It is the opinion of at least one man who has made a very special Ignatian SpiritualiO, / 7 study of Ignatian spirituality, namely Boeminghaus, that Ignatius fused two streams of spirituality which before him had come down in more or less parallel lines (Boeminghaus, Die Aszese der lgnatianischen Exerci-tien, 10-34). These traditions were those typified by Thomas fi Kempis and St. Francis of Assisi. During the later years of the Middle Ages the school of spirituality that was most fresh and vigorous was that of the Christian Renaissance, just referred to under the Latin name that it usu-ally goes by, namely, "Devotio Moderna." It marked a reaction against excessive speculation in piety and stressed the supreme importance of be-ing practical in one's religious life. In particular, it tended to put more method into the spiritual life and especially into the mental prayer that should animate and vivify it. In a word, one may say that its asceticism was that which we are all familiar with from the Imitation of Christ. The second stream was the Franciscan. It taught pious souls to take the Gospel literally, to seek evangelical simplicity and poverty, to look to Jesus in his human nature as he really existed in time and place, to respond to him as a person with love and devotion, to keep united with him as intimately as possible, and finally to live and work with him. Hence vitality, enthusiasm, and personal response characterize it, as prac-tical method and earnestness marked the other. Boeminghaus sums up his idea in suggesting that, to a great extent, St. Ignatius took his method from the Christian Renaissance group and the content of his system from the Franciscan tradition, and then united them in his own original way. In these pages Ignatian spirituality is taken to include not only the teaching of St. Ignatius himself, but also that of his order. For the saint's own doctrine the primary written sources are, besides his Spiritual Ex-ercises and the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, his Spiritual Jour-nal and some of his letters. Certain letters are very important and do not always get the attention they deserve by those who profess to present his doctrine, especially on mental prayer. Some of the letters, too, are equiva-lent to little didactic treatises; examples are the celebrated Epistle on Obe-dience and the letter on perfection to the students of the Society at Coim-bra (May 7, 1547). The spiritual teaching of the Jesuits is to be found partly, in certain official documents, for instance, letters of the Fathers General, and principally in the numerous published works of Jesuit as-cetical and mystical authors. Moreover, Ignatian spirituality is understood to comprise both that according to which Jesuits themselves try to live, including a certain con-ception of the religious life, of the vows, and especially of obedience, and also that which they propose for others who accept their instruction. Of course, it is not implied in presenting Jesuit ideals that all Jesuits Review for Religious, Janua~3,-February 1991 fully realize them. Basic Ideas The fundamental element in any school of spirituality is the theory or set of ideas underlying it and giving it life and direction. There must be some definite conception, for example, of God, of Christ, of human nature, and of the world. Different initial views on these fundamental re-alities or their relations necessarily give rise to different attitudes of will and divergent practical principles. St. Ignatius's mentality ,was not at all theoretical. Hence the general intellectual outlook in his system is simple and concrete. It is decidedly akin to that of the Synoptic Gospels rather than to St. John or St. Paul. It is not learned or theological, like, for instance, that of the Dominican Fathers or of the French Oratory. God is conceived mostly as a great and good king, as a grand mon-arch on the divine scale. It is emphasized especially that he is the crea-tor and hence the sovereign lord of all. St. Ignatius liked to refer to God as "His Divine Majesty," or "the Supreme Goodness." Among the di-vine attributes liberality is often singled out for mention. God is not thought of as "All in all" or as "Prime Mover" or as "the Divine Spouse." Christ, the God-man, is so rich in various aspects that no one person or group of his disciples could exhaust them all. Hence different schools of spirituality emphasize different phases of the great reality that he is. One could consider him as an adorable divine king sitting at the right hand of the Father, surrounded by a heavenly court of angels and saints, and receiving the homage of prayer and work from devout men on earth. Another could concentrate attention and affection above all on the scenes of the crib and the cross. A third, utilizing the concepts of theology, could make much of the Word Incarnate. St. Ignatius sees Christ mostly as the son of the divine King, and a king himself, but with a kingdom still to be conquered. He is a crusading king, at the head of his army, announcing his intentions, and inviting men to volunteer for service. The peculiar temper of a school may depend much on how it con-ceives human nature, to cite an historical example: ancient Alexandrine spirituality took intelligence rather than any other faculty to be the great thing about being human and accordingly it stressed the place of con-templation in the perfect life. The modern French School (Cardinal de B~rulle) is noted for its pessimistic conception of human nature and the effects upon itof original sin. St. Ignatius is characterized in this matter by a certain optimism and voluntarism. Human nature is indeed some- lgnatian Spiritualio, / 9 thing that needs chastening and training, but basically it is good and to be developed and put to work in the cause of Christ. If all creatures have their value, afortiori human nature has; in fact a human being is the end and purpose of all other things. Bodily strength is not t6 be diminished by indiscreet austerities, but to be brought under control and made ef-fective for service of God. The voluntarism of St. Ignatius is abundantly illustrated throughout the Exercises; he never ceases to refer to "what I wish." The Ignatian view of the world, too, is rather distinctive. Unlike many ascetics of old he did not look upon it as something evil to be fled from and shunned as much as possible. Nor like St. Bernard did he con-sider it better to avoid creatures than to use them. He did not share St. Francis's tender sentiment toward lowly creatures as brothers and sisters. St. Bonaventure and many holy people of the Middle Ages stressed the fact that all things are likenesses of God and should be looked upon as enlightening us about him and attracting us to him. St. Ignatius is more utilitarian and practical. For him everything in creation is a means to help people to work out their destiny; everything is to be regarded and treated solely with reference to that purpose. Corresponding to the ideas that one conceives of God and of human being will be one's ideal of perfection, that is, what one takes to be the completely right relation between God and us. Of course, the followers of St. Ignatius would be entirely submissive to their Creator and Supreme Lord. They would make God's ends their own and seek to achieve them by the means that God prefers. To the divine liberality they also respond with magnanimous liberality. Enrolled in the apostolic campaign with Christ, they endeavor to associate themselves as closely as possible with their great leader, to work with him as effectively as possible, and to imi-tate him in all respects, but especially in bearing poverty and humiliation nobly. Thus in everything they strive to love and serve the Divine Maj-esty. They conform their will altogether to that of God. "What I wish" becomes precisely what God wishes. Leading Principles Logically and naturally the basic ideas of a system of spirituality, in themselves more or less theoretical, give rise to practical principles in-dicating the appropriate action that should follow. The Divine Purpose and Plan The first and supreme principle of lgnatian asceticism is to seek the end for which God created one. "Man is created to praise, reverence, Review for Religious, Januat3,-FebruaO, 1991 and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his soul": the "First Principle and Foundation" in the Spiritual Exercises (23).(Quotations from the Exercises are from Louis J. Puhl's translation: the figures refer to the paragraph enumeration introduced by the editors of the critical edi-tion, Madrid, 1919.) As God begins, and we may also add, ends, with a certain definite purpose, so does St. Ignatius, and so too will his disciple. In fact, we are invited to intend just what God intends. Between God and us there are to be no cross-purposes. Moreover, and especially, one should seek, not a part of what God intends, but all of it, and to work it out always by using precisely the means and method preferred by God: what is this but to have just the same plan as God? Praising and reverencing God is substantially the same as glorifying him. Striving for the greater glory of God, "Ad majorem Dei gloriam," is very probably what the name of Ignatius is most apt to suggest to most people who have some knowledge of him. It is well known that when-ever St. Ignatius wrote or dictated he was constantly referring to the glory of God. In the little book of the Exercises the glory or praise of God is proposed as the end no less than 33 times. In the Constitutions of the Society the reference occurs about 135 times in 247 pages (the edi-tion of 1937; so Lawlor, "Doctrine of grace in the Spiritual Exercises," Theological Studies, 1942, 524). Nor was the expression always on his lips only. Seeking to make God better known and loved was ever in his thoughts and aspirations and supremely strong and dominant among them. Hence explicit and uninterrupted aiming at the greater glory of God is a conspicuous mark of Jesuit spirituality. A similar and more or less equivalent idea that was a great favorite with St. Ignatius and occurs still more frequently is "service." "Lo-cutions such as 'to the greater service of God,' 'to the greater service of God and the help of souls,' and their like, are repeated 157 times in the Constitutions" (Ibid). Serving God is, of course, the same as work-ing out his purposes or extending his glory, and it may be said to be cen-tral in Ignatius's whole conception of what our relations and activities toward God should be. Some religious leaders would no doubt put prayer or even mortification in the central place; for Ignatius, everything, prayer, recollection, self-abnegation, and so on, must be subordinated to the glory and service of God. Intending what God intends, seeking his glory, serving him, all this implies the need and use of means. St. Ignatius is broad enough to re-gard all created things as these means. He is insistent, too, that they are Ignatian Spirituality to be used neither more nor less than in the measure of their utility with respect to the final end. In no way or degree are they to be sought for their own sake as goals if they be pleasant and attractive, and no repug-nance to a useful but disagreeable means is to be allowed to interfere with using it. To the noblest end the best means is always to be chosen. Hence, another celebrated term and idea of Jesuit spirituality: namely, indifference. Association with Christ A second leading principle in St. lgnatius's system is "Associate yourself with Christ as closely as possible," or "Know, love, and imi-tate Christ as far as possible." The divine purpose and plan become more specifically the program of Christ. All Christians, of course, strive to as-sociate themselves with Christ, or to know and love and imitate him, but not all in precisely the Ignatian way, that is, in the spirit of "The King-dom" and the "Two Standards." As we have seen, St. Ignatius likes to consider Christ as "Our Lord, the Eternal King," a prince who is organizing a military expedition or crusade, to conquer the whole world and bring it back to loyal submis-sion to its divine sovereign. He summons all good people to become re-cruits in his army, to share his warfare, and then to rejoice with him in the fruits of victory. Both the royal commander and his soldiers are to live and fight under the same conditions of toil, combat, and suffering, that subsequently they may enjoy the same glories of victory together. The motives for enlisting are considered so attractive that nobody with good sense could decline; one would at least join the expedition as a com-mon soldier. But with this degree St. Ignatius is not at all satisfied. In view of the singularly magnetic qualities of the Leader and the ex-cellence of his cause, any with a spark of spirit about themselves will volunteer for distinguished service. They will be glad to show their love and affe~ztion by offering themselves for deeds of greater value beyond the call and strict.requirement of duty. They will i~ot wait to be attacked, but will themselves take the offensive and carry the war into the enemy's territo'ry ("acting against"). In particular they will first make a perfect conquest of their own interior foes, and aggressively overcome their own "sensuality and carnal and worldly love." They will profess themselves ready to imitate their great king in bearing humiliations and poverty. It is, therefore, a cardinal principle of Ignatian spirituality that to the sum-mons of Christ the King one should respond with all the magnanimity and generosity that one can muster. The eager new recruit soon gets lessons in the basic principles of strat- "12 '1 Review for Religious, January-Februat3, 1991 egy of the leader and also of the enemy chief. These are presented in the colorful exercise called "A Meditation on Two Standards." They are further developed and enforced in rules for the discernment of spirits. Lucifer's tactics are to be understood well, and since they are insidious one is ever to be on guard against his deceits. His general ruse is first to seduce people into an inordinate ques~ for riches and honor, these be-ing indifferent, and then into pride and finally into all vices. The inten-tion of Christ is just the contrary, that is, by example and precept he in-duces people to cultivate the spirit of poverty, or even actual poverty it-self, to conceive "a desire for insults and contempt," to acquire the virtue of humility, and thus then to attain all the different virtues. It will be noticed that St. Ignatius makes great efforts to have his discipline look especially to two aspects of Christ's moral character, namely, his pov-erty and his humility. In the Constitutions of his order and in certain of his letters he adds a third great virtue, that is, obedience. At least for the members of the Society this gets so much emphatic commendation and insistence that it is in a sense the point in which Jesuits are supposed to specialize. The Third Mode of Humility The "third mode of humility" is so highly characteristic of St. Ig-natius's whole doctrine and so important in itself that it should, it seems, be proposed as a third leading principle. It is presented in the Exercises as the last disposition to be sought in the ideal preparation of soul to dis-cern and choose the will of God in ordering one's life. It is also the high-est point that one could reach in conquering self, in achieving the vic-tory over one's disorderly and rebellious impulses, and in bringing them into that order which the divine plan and the program of Christ require. In the first mode of humility one submits to God in everything that is of serious obligation. The second degree disposes one so to submit as to avoid not only venial sin but also every defect of indifference and hence all positive imperfections (failure to carry out counsels). In the third kind "whenever the praise and glory of God would be equally served, I desire and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches, in order to imitate and be in reality more like Christ our Lord; ! choose insults with Christ loaded with them, rather than honors; I desire to be accounted as worthless and a fool for Christ, rather than to be esteemed as wise and prudent in this world. So Christ was treated before me" (Ex-ercises, 167). In a word, the perfect associate of Jesus makes oneself like him as far as possible, in all virtues, but especially, other considerations being equal, in poverty and humility. Evidently reverence and love and lgnatian Spirituality devotion to him can go no farther. Practically one prefers just what Christ prefers. To Love God A fourth leading principle in Ignatian spiritual training is "in all things to live and serve the Divine Majesty" (Exercises, 233). Every school of spirituality, merely to be Christian, must keep in the forefront the primacy of love. Some people have been disappointed that in express-ing the end for which God created the human person St. Ignatius did not mention love. True, it is not named there; but as surely and as fully as it enters into the divine plan and intention, it is there by implication. The constant desire, too, to choose only that which is most conducive to the end would involve much love for God. Even in meditating upon hell it is St. Ignatius's mind that love should have a certain priority: one prays "that if through my faults I forget the love of the eternal Lord, at least the fear of these punishments will keep me from falling into sin" (Exer-cises, 65). Throughout the second, third, and fourth weeks of the Exer-cises the prevailing general objective is to achieve, with an intimate knowl-edge and exact imitation, an ardent love for the God-man. The climax is reached in the celebrated "Contemplation to attain the Love of God" (Exercises, 230-237). Love shows that it is genuine by "deeds rather than words." It con-sists especially "in a mutual sharing of goods." On his part God pre-sents us with the whole gamut of creation, the totality of his external goods, and then in addition "the same Lord desires to give himself to" his beloved "according to his divine decrees." In grateful and gener-ous response one breaks out into the "Suscipe," relinquishing to the great Infinite Lover the complete possession and disposal of oneself. Every word in this magnificent exercise prepares one to love the ineffa-ble Divine Goodness literally with all the energies of one's soul and body and to demonstrate the truth of one's affection by really doing everything that pleases God and nothing that could displease him. Before working out the Constitutions for his Society St. Ignatius laid it down as the first principle thai it was not any exterior regulations that were to guide the order, but rather the interior law of love and charity that the Holy Spirit inscribes in the human heart. One of the Society's first rules is that its members should strive in all their acts to serve and please the infinitely good God for his own sake and with a view to re-paying his love and his immense liberality to them. Hope for rewards or fear of punishment are to have only a secondary role. God is to be loved in all his creatures, and conversely too they all in him. Review for Religious, January-FebruaO, 1991 A distinction has been drawn between two philosophies of love: one, called physical, emphasizes the tendency of love to base itself on unity and to proceed to ever greater union; it is seen for example, in the desire to be with one's parents or relatives. The other, termed ecstatic, empha-sized duality or division and the inclination in certain cases for a lover to go outside of oneself, as it were, or to give oneself up for the sake of the beloved; it is exemplified in the self-sacrifice of mothers for their children or of soldiers for their countrymen. Likewise attention has been called to two theological conceptions of charity: one, that of personal desire, we might say, considers the act whereby one wills the Infinite Good to oneself to be charity; so, for instance, St. Bonaventure. The other, that of pure benevolence, regards this act as belonging to hope and excludes such self-reference from charity; so Suarez; it would love God simply and absolutely for his infinite goodness or for himself. Corresponding to the'se two philosophical and theological views one may discern two general types of spirituality: the first centers around the direction of seeking greater union with God. It would find gospel war-rant in the text: "That they all may be one; that, as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I am in Thee, they also may be one in us" (Jn 17:21, Spencer version). It would like to save its life. A mystery of predilection for it is the Incarnation, the supreme union of God and man. It is illustrated in the lives and doctrines of Saints Augustine, Thomas, Teresa, John of the Cross, John Eudes, and many others. It makes for contemplation, and would like to "taste" or "enjoy" God. The second type of spirituality takes rather the direction of self-giving. It gets inspiration from the text: "Greater love has no one than this--that one should lay down one's life for one's friends" (Jn 15:13). It is glad to lose its life (Mk 8:35). Naturally the passion and death of Christ are favorite mysteries. Martyrdom would be its great consumma-tion. Representatives of this type are St. Francis of Assisi, Thomas a Kempis, Francis de Sales apparently, and certainly Margaret Mary Alaco-que. St. Th6r~se's idea of love was "to give all, nay, to give oneself!" Clearly with these latter, exemplifying the ecstatic tendency of love, and the pure-benevolence conception of charity, and the self-sacrificing type of spirituality, St. Ignatius and his school are to be ranged. The whole tenor of his spirit, with its climax in the third mode of humility, or in serving the Divine Majesty in everything, is not toward union, but serv-ice; not toward enjoyment, but sacrifice; not toward rest in God, but work for him (See De Guibert, ~tudes de Th~ologie Mystique, 239- 281). lgnatian Spirituality Union and Familiarity with God Finally, a fifth major principle in St. Ignatius's general method con-cerns union and familiarity with God. He was wont to formulate it in some such terms as these: "to seek God in all things"; "to find God in all things"; to be a pliable "instrument" in "the divine hand." In the Constitutions, IX, 2, St. Ignatius gives a rather long and par-ticularized account of what the ideal general of the Society should be. Naturally this picture is at the same time a characterization of the Saint himself. Among the qualifications required in a future general the first is as follows: "that he should be most fully united with God our Lord and familiar with him, as well in prayer as in all his actions." Similar prescriptions are made for others who are to be appointed to lesser of-fices (Epitome Instituti, No. 740). Thus the Founder showed his supreme concern that above all else members of the Society should cultivate the closest and most intimate union with God. The large place which work holds in the Jesuit ideal and the relations between prayer and work in it are highly characteristic. In no other school, as far as I know, is there so great a tendency to favor work at the expense of prayer. A deep foundation of mortification and solid vir-tue being presupposed, from, say, the novitiate, or some similar train-ing and including a thirty-day retreat, prayer is to be cultivated until one has the proper disposition, that is, the will to love God with all one's heart and to carry out the whole of the divine design for one. But then, in view of the grave necessities of souls and the needs of the Church, one should leave prayer and give all one's energies to doing God's work, saving and sanctifying others, long ago pronounced to be, of all divine things, the divinest. When one goes about one's work precisely as God's, doing just what he indicates, because he wills it, and in the manner that he wishes, it is relatively easy and natural to pass back and forth between prayer and work. Striving to do God's work according to the mind and in the spirit of God may be said to be itself not the least form of prayer. Faithful disciples of St. Ignatius are "contemplatives in action." To illustrate the union that should exist between one who works for God and God himself, a favorite comparison of St. Ignatius was that of instrumental adaptation. The human worker should be a completely pli-ant instrument in the divine hand. A perfect personal instrument would be fully sensitive and responsive to all the motions of that hand. To give one such instrumental flexibility is, according to St. Thomas, the ten-dency of the gifts of the Holy Spirit (I, II, 68, 3). The most exquisite docility to the Holy Spirit is a capital aim in the doctrine of one of the Review for Religious, Januat3,-Februat3, 1991 Society's most distinguished spiritual masters, Fr. Louis Lallemant. Distinctive Practices Certain practices are characteristic of Jesuit asceticism. Nowadays some of these are more or less universal in the Church. But in origin, or at least in their wide diffusion, they are due largely to the influence of Ignatius. Spiritual Exercises, Retreats Perhaps the practice that is most obviously distinctive of those who follow the Jesuit school is that they make retreats and attach great im-portance to them. And more particularly, they do it according to the scheme and sequence of exercises sketched out long ago by the knight-convert at Manresa. The Exercises were originally calculated to last for a solid month, and in this integral form they are made by all Jesuit nov-ices and again by Jesuit priests and brothers toward the end of their train-ing. Other Jesuits regularly repeat them in a condensed form for eight days every year. So also, for varying periods, do many who do not be-long to the Society and still make use of its spiritual aids. The numerous students in Jesuit high schools and colleges throughout the world make annual three-day retreats. Moreover many devout lay men and women make Jesuit retreats annually. St. Ignatius himself did not advocate regular retreats. The custom gradually grew in the Sogiety and was made a matter of rule only in 1609. It is very largely due to Ignatius's influence, directly or indirectly, that now the practice of making annual or regular retreats is for relig-ious and clerics a point of canon law and a received ascetical usage in the Church. The Particular Examen Another practice that was originally most characteristic of the Igna-tian approach is the particular examination of conscience. Essentially it is nothing else than using in the war with one's faults that ancient prin-ciple of strategy: "Divide and conquer!" In more modern and universal terms one might say that it exemplifies the rule: "Specialize! Concen-trate on a limited field!" The particular examen was always a great fa-vorite with St. Ignatius. It is now one of the common techniques of Catho-lic asceticism. Sometimes it is censured by men who concentrate all their scrutiny of it upon some minor detail or other in the method and over-look what is substantial about it. On the other hand, even some of the minor features of it have of late been getting commendation from sci- lgnatian Spirituality/17 entific psychologists. Direction A third practice that is distinctive in its way of Ignatian spirituality is its idea of direction. St. Ignatius considered it especially useful, if not necessary, to prevent one from falling victim to the illusions that may come either from one's own imagination and emotions or from the de-ceits and snares of the evil spirit. As compared with the older schools, St. Ignatius advocates, if I mistake not, a more thorough-going and a more methodical use of it. On the other hand, he did not employ it like St. Francis de Sales or others in seventeenth-century France. The Exer-cises were originally designed to be made individually with a private and experienced director and the exercitant was urged to be very frank and open with the director. In the Society it is expected that subjects should make themselves, even their innermost consciences, all their good and bad points, culpable or inculpable, fully known to their superiors or con-fessors and in return receive individual paternal guidance. Any eager ad-herent of Jesuit asceticism will, if possible, seek constant expert direc-tion from another in the problems of one's interior life. Complete can-dor of soul and docility toward a director or superior fit in very well with certain qualities of character that were particularly dear to St. Ignatius: namely, his preferences for mortification that is interior, of judgment and will, for prudence, humility, discipline, and obedience. Mental Prayer An outstanding mark of any system of asceticism is its doctrine on prayer. If one compares the modern theory and practice of prayer with the ancient or the medieval, one will notice great differences in the rela-tive positions of vocal and mental prayer. The changes had been coming of necessity in the historical evolution of the spiritual and the religious life. In determining the actual extension and form that they have taken since the sixteenth century the influence of St. Ignatius, direct or indi-rect, was a major factor. In making the Exercises and then later in striving "to arrive at per-fection in whatever state or way of life God our Lord may grant us to choose" (135), it is considered most vital that one's soul should be filled with "the intimate understanding and relish of the" great Christian truths (2). Often enough people refer to the first method of mental prayer in the Exercises, the one there named from "the three powers of the soul," as "the Ignatian method." As a matter of fact, in that little booklet the Review for Religious, Jamlao,-February 1991 Saint proposes at least six methods, and this one, used for the consid-eration of abstract truths, is almost immeasurably outnumbered by the "contemplations," according to persons, words, and actions, that deal especially with the life and passion of Christ. Except when misconceived by ill-informed critics or misused by ig-norant persons, Ignatian methods of prayer do not hinder liberty of spirit or stand in the way of the Spirit's inspirations. It is the most rudimen-tary principle of Jesuit spirituality to keep the end clearly in mind, to pre-serve liberty with respect to the means, and to select and use the most apt of the means. Even in the Exercises, written especially for beginners, to aid them in the specific and passing task of rightly determining their vocation, the admonition is given: It "should be noted: . . . I will re-main quietly meditating upon the point in which I have found what I de-sire, without eagerness to go on till I have finished" (76). And again later on: "If in contemplation, say, on the Out" Father, he finds in one or two words abundant matter for thought and much relish and consola-tion, he should not be anxious to go on, though the whole hour be taken up with what he has found'" (254). Incidentally, one may notice that thus from the start St. Ignatius promotes the tendency to pause in contempla-tion rather than to busy oneself with discursive or analytic reflections. Outside of retreat time Jesuits and their followers may and should cultivate those forms of mental prayer, including the highest degrees of contemplation, that will most effectively advance them in loving God and in executing his designs. Naturally, of course, the prayer of apos-tolic workers will differ from that of cloistered Carmelite nuns. Similarly the inspirations of the Holy Spirit will be in harmony with one's divine vocation, not contrary to it. St. Ignatius was a great mystic himself, as his Spiritual Journal am-ply attests. In others as a rule be looked to solid virtue and mortification rather than exalted states of prayer. If we may generalize from a letter to Francis Borgia while the latter was still the Duke of Gand~a, that form of prayer is to be considered best in which divine favors are received most liberally: "The best thing for each particular person is that in which God our Lord communicates himself most freely, bestowing his most holy gifts and spiritual graces, because he sees and knows what is most suitable for him, and, as knowing all, he shows him the way . These gifts I take to be those that are not within our power, to have when we wish, but rather they are pure presents from him who gives and can do all that is good; for example . an intensification of faith, of hope, of charity, delight and repose of spirit, tears, intense consolation, eleva- lgnatian Spirituality tion of mind, divine impressions and illuminations, with all the other grati-fications and spiritual feelings ordained to such gifts" (Monumenta His-torica Society lesu, lgnatiana, Series i, Epist. et Instruct., 1548-50, 233- 237). With respect to mysticism, as in Catholic spirituality generally, so also in Jesuit spiritual teaching, it is possible to distinguish two histori-cal currents, the one decidedly mystical, and the other rather ascetical. To the first belong, for instance, St. Alphonsus Rodriguez, De la Puente, Alvarez de Paz, Caussade, Grou; to the second, Rodriguez, Roothaan, Meschler. Of the masters in mysticism the one best known is Louis Lallemant (France, 1587-1635). He was followed by a number of noted and influ-ential disciples. The work which presents his teaching, The Spiritual Doc-trine of Louis Lallemant, has traditionally been used in the Society to form its young priests in their year of third probation in much the same way as the ascetical Rodriguez is used for the instruction of the novices. Certain spiritual writers of the Society have been considered anti-mystical; among them are Mercurian, Rodriguez, and in a way, Scara-melli. When their statements are viewed against the historical back-ground, properly interpreted with allowances for changed terminology, and compared with the utterances of other authorities of their times, then the significance of the anti-mystical bias is seen to be more apparent than real. In any case, no matter how great it should seem to be, it is com-pletely outweighed by what other Jesuits have done for the cause of mys-tical contemplation. Moreover, no Jesuit ever went so far as to deny that one should fully develop his gifts of the Holy Spirit, welcome every in-fusion of grace that God should wish to give him, and then eagerly make the most of it all. In the recent controversies over the nature of infused contemplation, its place in the general economy of the spiritual life, and the call to it, there have been Jesuits on both sides. Self-Abnegation The lgnatian and Jesuit practice of mortification is very different from the ancient and medieval austerities, and it in turn appears to have had great influence in determining what the use of it should be in the mod-ern Church generally. Now, evidently, bodily penances do not occupy so prominent a place in the total scheme. They are more consciously and more narrowly subordinated to the greater and superior elements in the spiritual life. The employment of them is muchmore under the control of directors and confessors. There is far greater tendency to seek the nec-essary self-abnegation in the hardships of community living and espe- 90 / Review for Religious, Januarv-Februar\, 1991 cially in laborious work for souls. The body is spared much punishment and in exchange it is expected to become a more effective instrument for the spirit. In principle lgnatian mortification is as austere as one could wish. The indifference of the Exercises implies that one should be willing, when-ever the divine purpose or plan requires it, to forego the most pleasant means or undergo the use of the most unpleasant. Self-conquest and self-control are to be so complete that no movement of the lower propensi-ties can draw the deliberate will after it. Asking Christ, crucified for one's own sins, what one should do for him and then giving the decent answer to one's questions also includes the utmost degree of self-crucifixion. The noble knight's response to the summons of Christ the King and Captain involves the fullest oblation of self, and in particular the firm determination to take the offensive in waging war on one's own sensuality and worldliness. Finally the climax of self-abnegation is reached in the third mode of humility: preferring, other things being equal, the poorer and humbler things just to be more closely united with Christ poor and humiliated. One of the rules that St. Ignatius left for his sons is that their chief pursuit should be to seek in the Lord their greater mortification and, as far as possible, constant self-abnegation. In dispo-sition of will he exacts as much as St. John of the Cross does, but his manner of doing it is much less forbidding, as it in turn is harsher and less attractive than that of St. Francis de Sales. In applying the principle or in practice St. Ignatius would have disciples be careful not to injure their health or diminish their bodily forces and interfere with their spiri-tual development or ability to work efficiently. The outcome has been that Jesuit direction and influence have tended greatly to moderate the use of corporal inflictions by pious people. The interior mortification of the mind and will, in perfect obedience, for example, is assigned a large margin of priority. Devotion to the Sacred Heart A practice that is very prominent in modern Jesuit spirituality and cannot be said to characterize the original asceticism of St. Ignatius is devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. In the revelations made to St. Mar-garet Mary, Christ expressed the desire that cultivating the devotion and propagating it as widely as possible among all the faithful should be a special charge of the Society of Jesus. The Society, whether in its supe-riors or its members generally, has always felt that this commission was peculiarly in keeping with its primitive spirit, and hence has been glad to do whatever it could toward making the heart of its great Leader and Ignatian Spirituality/21 King better known and loved¯ Any means to win hearts to Jesus is wel-come, and this devotion to his loving but neglec ted heart is a most at-tractive and effective one. Fostering and deepening their own dedication to the heart of Jesus ts considered by all Jesmts to 15e one of the best meas-ures that they can take to sanctify themselves anld. to vivify their apos-tolic activity. One could not be a student in a Jes,6it school or amember of one of their parishes without being under a certain constant urging to honor the heart of Christ. Great multitudes of the faithful daily make the offering of all their works and sufferings in union with the intention of that heart¯ Nor could one read very far in modern Jesuit spiritual litera-ture without finding much that gives it all a turn toward loving the heart of the Savior. Distinctive Traits Modernity is a mark of Jesuit spirituality, obviously in the chrono-logical sense, and especially also in that its genius is not ancient or me-dieval, but in harmony with the modern Catholic mentality. Negatively, and by way of "going against," it has animated men who were in the forefront of the Church's war against Lutheranism, Calvinism, Jansen-ism, and Quietism. Positively it possesses certain points of affinity to mod-ern social conditions. In contrast to the Middle Ages, Catholics now are in a more hostile milieu, and an aggressive type of spirituality befits them. Men and women cultivating the supernatural life now as a rule get less help from cloistered seclusion, live in the turmoil of large cities, are required to give more attention to action and less to contemplation, and lastly must be educated as well as devout. For the loss of the cloister Jes-uit spiritual training compensates in various ways, all designed to make up in interior individual strength for the external aids that had to be given up. From "the Kingdom" and "the Two Standards" on, it is thor-oughly orientated toward living and struggling in the midst of groups. Its connections with the active life in the Church and education need no comment. Another note of Ignatian asceticism is its high degree of organiza-tion. It is hardly conceivable that one could become well acquainted with the Spiritual Exercises or the Society of Jesus and their spiritual system without remarking what a complicated but strictly unified order or method characterizes all three of them. No other school of spirituality is so consciously methodical and insistent about prudently arranging means to ends. From a military office one might expect well-thought-out strategy. However, the aim of it all being union of the human spirit 99 / Review for Religious, Janttat3,-Februat3, 1991 with the divine spirit, there is nothing mechanical about it. Ignatian spirituality is conspicuously and eminently apostolic. Typi-cal is the injunction said to have been given by him to St. Francis Xavier when dispatching him to the Orient: "Go, and inflame the world!" Jesuit asceticism is eminently practical. There is nothing theoretical about it. It emphasizes above all the actual accomplishment of the divine will and purpose. Doing the will of the Father is always possible, feasi-ble, and most fruitful. The directives given are clear, precise, and am-ple, but not more restrictive than the divine plan itself. Personal initia-tive is encouraged, and it is suggested, with both St. Augustine and St. Thomas (In Mt XXV, 15), that where there is more effort, there also there will be more grace. Natural means are cultivated and exploited to supernatural ends. A peculiarly distinctive mark of lgnatian spirituality is the milita~3, and chivalrous note that runs through it. Don lfiigo Lopez de Loyola was born and brought up an aristocrat. By profession he was an army officer. Early sixteenth-century Spain was still tense with the spirit of the crusades. Upon the soldier's conversion divine grace sublimated to the supernatural sphere his knightly ideas and ideals. The very title of the Exercises states that they prepare one for "the conquest of self." Of all those exercises his two favorites were "the Kingdom" and "the Two Standards," both of them thoroughly military and crusading in in-spiration. The Society of Jesus is dedicated to "waging war for God un-der the standard of the Cross." It was conceived as a sort of shock troop to be thrown into battle wherever the Church's danger seemed to be worst. Its name originally was, and as a matter of fact in several lan-guages still is equivalently, "the Company of Jesus." It was its first su-preme commander's great aim to be himself, and as far as possible to make everyone else, "a noble knight of Jesus Christ." Another note that appears to characterize lgnatian ascesis is a cer-tain dynamism; that is, in a special sense it is marked by force, power, energy. There is not much about it that is gentle, tender, or mild. St. Ig-natius himself was naturally a virile personality of great earnestness and intensity. He came into the history of the Church at a most critical turn-ing point. In particular, the early Protestants were preaching the depre-ciation of good works. An emergency situation called for the most vig-orous reaction, and that is just what the Saint's magnanimous nature in-clined him to. In our days he has been reproached by Henri Bremond with being, "not a master of prayer, but a professor of energy." He would have his disciples share in God's own eagerness to communicate lgnatian Spirituality/93 his goodness and in the Eternal King's ardor to conquer all souls. The feeling dominant in the Jesuit spirit is not one of seclusion and peace: rather it is a sense of war and battle. Nor is it one of quiet study or contemplation: it is rather an air of tenseness and activity. Nor is it one of want or suffering: instead it is an eagerness to make use of things and to get a great task done. "Ad maiorem Dei gloriam" suggests this fact: it points to the incessant, irrepressible, dynamic, straining for ever greater and greater accomplishments for God that the Jesuit sets as his goal. Finally, to conclude, we might sum up Ignatian and Jesuit spiritual-ity in some such terms as these: the first and basic principle is to pursue the divine purpose and plan; the central principle, to know, love, and imi-tate Christ as fully as possible; and the last and highest, "in all things to love and serve the Divine Majesty." ANIMA CHRISTI--aTraditional Prayer Soul of Christ, sanctify me. Body of Christ, save me. Blood of Christ, inebriate me. Water from the side of Christ, wash me. Passion of Christ, strengthen me. O good Jesus, hear me; Within thy wounds hide me; Suffer me not to be separated from thee; From the malignant enemy defend me; In the hour of my death call me, And bid me come to thee, That with thy saints I may praise thee Forever and ever. Amen. Spiritual Exercises I Loyalty as Liberation: Ignatius of Loyola and Pedro Arrupe at La Storta Parmananda R. Divarkar, S.J. Father Parmananda Divarkar, S.J., served as one of four General Assistants to Fa-ther Pedro Arrupe, who was Superior General of the Society of Jesus from May 1965 to September 1983. Father Arrupe was well-known among all religious since he served as President of the International Union of Superiors General for five consecu-tive terms. Father Divarkar can be addressed at St. Marys: Mazagaon: Bombay 400010: India. The last public statement of Father Pedro Arrupe, which may well be re-garded as his testament, is the homily that was read out for him at a sol-emn Eucharist on the 4th of September 1983. "It is in many ways fit-ting," the text begins, "that at the conclusion of my ministry as Su-perior General of the Society of Jesus, I should come here to La Storta to sing my Nunc Dimittis--even though it be in the silence imposed by my present condition." The little chapel at La Storta, on the outskirts of Rome, is tradition-ally associated with a very special experience of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, "that God the Father placed him with Christ his Son," while on his way to offer to the Pope the services of the group of young men that had gath-ered around him. This chap, el and the memories it evokes were for Fa-ther Arrupe an inexhaustible source of inspiration and strength in the midst of the many challenges he had to face in the difficult period fol-lowing Vatican II. Ignatius recounts his experience in what is popularly known as his autobiography but is, in fact, an untidy collection of reminiscences cov-ering just one third of his life. He did not actually write anything but spoke out his story, in bits and pieces and under trying circumstances, 24 Loyalty as Liberation because of the insistence of his disciples who desired that before he died he should compose an account of his intimate dealings with God, which might serve as a model for future Jesuits. Such a document, he was told, would be his testament, and to produce it would be truly to found the Society of Jesus. In the language of today, the demand was for an authori-tative statement of the charism of the founder--and that is what stands out clearly in an otherwise clumsy text. All through the narrative one sees that Ignatius had a veritable gen-ius for loyalty--even a felt need to be loyal, to find a person or cause that might claim his total devotion. As a young man he is constantly get-ting caught up in unrealistic ambitions, and not even the sobering expe-rience of a shattered leg can break the spell that holds him captive. But some accidental reading reveals to him the true object of his ceaseless quest: it is Christ. In his encounter with Christ, Ignatius experiences the paradox of loyalty as liberation. Loyalty is something that binds, but loy-alty to Christ is a liberation from all that hampers true and total growth. For through intimate union with Christ one comes to share in his own experience, of God as Absolute and all else as relative. This is the truth that makes for freedom. As the story proceeds, each succeeding situation brings to Ignatius the realization that commitment to Christ carries with it other commit-merits-- which may seem to tie him down once again, to be a restriction, but are experienced as a further release, as new opportunities calling forth fresh generosity: loyalty to Christ means loyalty to the Church, loy-alty to the Church means loyalty to the Pope . After many adven-tures, accompanied by singular graces, the process of bringing his loy-alty into ever sharper focus comes to a peak point in a mystical experi-ence at La Storta, of the Father placing him with the Son, of the Son bear-ing the cross and inviting him to service, of a promise that the power of God would support his little group in Rome. This group of recently ordained priests, who had earlier called them-selves Friends in the Lord, took it for granted that once they had fulfilled their resolution to be at the disposal of the Pope for any task he might entrust to them, their fellow~ship would end in dispersion. But, at the very point of parting, they realized that their mutual loyalty, the bond that held them together, had never been a bondage but rather a liberation of their latent talents and the very condition of their availability for serv-ice. So they decided to remain united both in spirit and as members of one body, even when they scattered. Paradoxically, the very thing that would have separated them--their commitment to the Pope--became Review for Religious, January-February 1991 "the basis and chief foundation" of a new religious order, compact but mobile: so the Society of Jesus was established on the principle of loy-alty as liberation. Father Arrupe has an intuitive grasp of this principle, and a lived ex-perience of its validity. Herein is the clue to the distinctive feature of his personality that stands out among all his admirable qualities and charm-ing traits: an unshakable attachment to whatever is'fundamental and a fear-less openness to all that is relevant. This it was that put him so finely in tune with the formula for the renewal of religious life proposed by the Second Vatican Council: fidelity to the foundational charism and adjust-ment to present circumstances. It explains his great popularity and ef-fectiveness as a spiritual leader in the post-conciliar Church--as well as the incomprehension and rejection he met in certain quarters. Not all could understand that adherence to the old and acceptance of the new were not two things for him. So some were alienated by what they perceived as inconsistency, while others followed him erratically, without the delicate balance and unflinching loyalty that characterized Arrupe himself--who was free, bold, and innovative, not in spite of be-ing traditional, but precisely because he held on so tenaciously to the sources of his being. Speaking at a thanksgiving on the completion of fifty years as a Jes-uit, he made a simple profession of the triune loyalty that ruled his life-- to Christ, to the Church, "and to the Society of Jesus. He named them in reverse order and called them his loves: three loves, flowing one from the other, feeding each other, and united in one loyalty that embraced everything and everyone. It pained him to see people, Jesuits especially, caught in a conflict of loyalties. Conversely, he could not hide his joy in the midst of sor-row on the several occasions when his men met with violent death in fi-delity to their mission among the poor. His big concern as General was to bring the Society to an ever greater fraternal unity and apostolic fruit-fulness through a deeper understanding and a more meaningful practice of Ignatius' ideal of loyal service. A small but significant expression of this concern was his desire and effort to get Jesuits all over the world interested and involved in the proper renovation of the chapel of La Storta, which had been badly dam-aged and poorly repaired during World War II. He had the joy of seeing this satisfactorily accomplished just as he retired from office. But the oc-casion was signed with the cross--as was the original experience of Ig-natius. Father Arrupe's closing years are marked with many kinds of suf- Loyalty as Liberation / 97 fering. It is a bittersweet consolation, and a potent inspiration, to think that what he did not entirely succeed in achieving in a decade and a half of earnest striving, he in large measure obtains at the end through the manifold pain he bears with such fortitude and submission. When in the wake of his crippling stroke there came the papal in-tervention in his government, many people--Jesuits and others-- thought that the move would split the Society of Jesus--indeed would splinter it, with bits flying in all directions. Nothing of the sort happened. Rather the contrary: the reaction, led by Arrupe, but universal, was one of faith and fidelity. There was a renewed sense of belonging together, and a rallying around the banner of the cross "to serve the Lord alone, and his Bride the Church, under the Roman Pontiff." For countless Jesu-its, the challenge to identify themselves with a Society that lay in sor-row and humiliation was a supremely purifying and enlivening experi-ence: an experience of loyalty as liberation, with a wholesome impact on the whole Church--a parting gilt, a legacy from their much-loved Gen-eral, who said at the conclusion of his homily at La Storta: What was for Ignatius the culmination and summing up of so many spe-cial graces received since his conversion, was for the Society a pledge that it would share in the graces of the Founder in the measure in which it remained faithful to the inspiration that gave it birth. I pray that this celebration, which is for me a farewell and a conclusion, be for you and for the whole Society represented here, the beginning of a new period of service, with fresh enthusiasm. May the collaboration of the whole Society in the renovation of the chapel of La Storta be an abiding sym-bol and an unfailing inspiration for a united effort at spiritual renewal, trusting in the graces whose memory is enshrined in La Storta. I shall remain at your side with my prayers. The Changing Self-God Image of Ignatius of Loyola William A. Barry, S.J. Father William Barry, S.J., is currently rector of lhe Jesuit community at Boston College. His address is Jesuit Community: Boston College; Chestnut Hill, MasSa-chusetts 02167. ~]~'e have become accustomed to describing the developing relationship of a person with God in interpersonal terms. I have tried such a descrip-tion in a monograph on Jesuit formation where I spoke of prayer as con-scious relationship and then attempted to describe the development of that relationship in terms of the dynamic of the Spiritual Exercises. ~ Those of us who use such a framework often use a form of what Freudi-arts call "object relations theory" and apply it to the relationship with God. According to this theory, we all carry around with us self-other sche-mata learned in our interactions with significant people. With these sche-mata we approach all new people. Such a theory serves to explain in-stant likes and dislikes. A new person is assimilated to an image of some-one in my past life whom I liked or disliked. The theory is also used to explain how people get into repetitive destructive relationships without ever learning from experience. These schemata are self-other psychic structures; they are relational in nature because they are learned through relationships. In other words, the images with their associated feelings and thoughts are of the self in relation to another and others. All our self-images are relational. According to this theory, we also meet God with learned self-God schemata which derive from our relationships with parents and others, from teaching about God, and from past experiences of the Mystery we call God.z These schemata are always distorted and untrue to the reality 28 The Changing Self-God hnage / 29 of who God really is for us. In other words, our experience of God is impoverished because of our self-God schemata. We could say that the development of the relationship with God consists in the learning of pro-gressively more realistic images of self and God in relationship through the actual encounter with God in sacraments, prayer, and life in general. The development could be seen as a process of losing our idols or false images of God (and self) through the encounter itself just as the actual encounter with a new person in our life will teach us something new about ourselves and that person if we let the relationship develop. While these ideas have become more and more commonplace for those of us steeped in the psychological culture of our age, we do not expect such psychological theories to color the descriptions of older spiri-tual writers. The question is: Can their experience of the relationship with God be understood in terms of such a theory? Recently I had occasion to read The Autobiography of St. Ignatius of Loyola3 with some under-graduate students in a class on Jesuit spirituality. I believe that the expe-riences Ignatius describes in the first three chapters of that work can be understood in terms of Ignatius' progressive education about his relation-ship with God. In other words, the changes he describes can be under-stood as changes in his self-God schema. In the course of demonstrating this thesis we will discover that Ignatius, who calls himself the pilgrim in the Autobiography, shows himself to be a pilgrim from an impover-ished image of God to an image of God as Lover pat" excellence. In the process his own self-image changes as well. First, let us note that Ignatius' initial conversion experience came about through noticing the difference between two sets of daydreams as he convalesced from his wounds and the leg operations those wounds en-tailed. In one set of daydreams Ignatius spent hours on end imagining the great deeds he would do, the fine words he would say to win the heart of a great lady. In the other set Ignatius spent equally long hours dream-ing of the great deeds he would do for Christ in imitation of saints like Dominic and Francis. He notes that there was a difference in the two ex-periences. When he was thinking about the things of the world, he took much dclight in them, but afterwards, when he was tired and put them aside, hc found that be w~s dry znd discontented. But when he thought of going to Jerusa-lem, barefoot and eating nothing but herbs and undcrgoing all the other rig-ors that he saw the saints had endured, not only was hc consoled when hc had these thoughts, but even aftcr putting them aside, hc rcmaincd content and happy. Hc did not wonder, howcvcr, at this: nor did hc stop to ponder Review for Religious, January-February 1991 the difference until one time his eyes were opened a little, and hc began to marvel at the difference and to reflect upon it, realizing from experience that some thoughts left him sad and others happy. Little by little hc came to recog-nize the difference between the spirits that agitated him. one from the de-mon, the other from God."~ In these two sets of daydreams the same vaulting ambition, the same vivid imagination are at work, but to different ends. The reading of the life of Christ and of the lives of the saints piqued Ignatius' interest and fired his imagination much as did the romantic literature he so enjoyed and would have preferred to read during his convalescence. Finally he noticed that the two sets of daydreams have different emotional conse-quences in his heart, and then he discerned that one set is from God, the other from the demon. With this decisive discernment Ignatius was set upon a new path, but he was not yet a new person. The rather amusing story of his encounter with the Moor on the road to Montserrat shows how far he was from be-ing a man of discernment.5 He and the Moor, both riding donkeys, got into an argument about whether Mary was a virgin after the birth of Je-sus. Perhaps the Moor felt that Ignatius was getting hot under the collar; at any rate, he spurred his mule on at a fast clip so that he was lost to view. Ignatius began to wonder whether he had done enough to uphold Mary's honor, whether he Should have struck the Moor with his dagger. He could not decide whether to follow the Moor and strike him or leave him alone. In his quandary he decided to let the mule make the decision by letting the reins go slack. The mule did not follow the i'oad the Moor took. We will never know what turn history would have taken if the mule had followed the road to the Moor. What was Ignatius' image of himself in relation to God at this time? A telling phrase occurs in the passage where he recounts his desire to enter the Carthusian house in Seville. But when he thought again of the penances he wished to do as he went about the world, the desire to enter the Carthusians cooled; he feared that he would not be able to give vent to the hatred that hc had conceived against himself.~' That self-hatred tells us much about his image of God at this time of prepa-ration for the journey that would end up in Manresa. If Ignatius hates himself so violently, we can speculate that he harbors an image of him-self before an implacable God. Not long after his arrival in Manresa we hear ominous hints of where such a self-God image can lead. Each day he begged alms in Manresa. He did not cat meat or drink wine, The Changing Self-God hnage / 3"1 even though they were offered to him. Hc did not fast on Sundays, and if they gave him a little wine, he drank it. As hc had bccn very attentive in taking care of his hair, as was the fashion at that time (and he had a fine head of hair), he decided to let it grow naturally, without combing or cut-ting it or covering it with anything by night or day. For the same reason he let his toenails and fingernails grow because he also had been attentive to this.7 He began to attack his body and his former attitudes with reckless aban-don to the point where he did permanent harm to his health, as he notes later. It is at this point that he mentions the serpent-like image that "gave him great comfort." "He found great pleasure and consolation in seeing this thing, and the more he saw it the more his consolation in-creased. When it disappeared he was saddened."8 Ignatius did not make the connection with his earlier discernment when he noted that the day-dreams of doing knightly deeds delighted him during the dreaming, but left him sad afterward. Moreover, he notes that around the time when this vision began, "a harsh thought came to trouble him by pointing out the hardship of his life, as if someone was saying within his soul, 'How will you be able to endure this life for the seventy years you have yet to live?' "9 With this temptation began the great swings of mood which led him into the terrible bout of scruples which he so poignantly de-scribes in the following pages of the Autobiography. The agony of his struggle with these scruples brought him to this point. Once when he was very upset by them he began to pray with such fervor that he shouted out loud to God, saying, "'Help me, Lord, for I find no rem-edy among men nor in any crcalurc, yet if I thought I could find ih no labor would be too great for me. Show me, O Lord, where I may find it: even though I should have to follow a little dog so he could help me. I would do it. "" While hc had these thoughts, the temptation often came over him with great force to throw himself into a large hole in his room next to the place where he was praying.~° The self-hatred has taken a very violent turn. What kind of image of God lies behind such scruples? It has to be a God who, in the words of the psychiatrist J.S. Mackenzie, "is always snooping around after sin-ners." ~ Ignatius felt that he had not completely confessed his sins. At one point a confessor ordered him not to confess any sins of the past "'un-less it should be something very clear. But inasmuch as he thought all those things were very clear, this order was of no benefit to him . "~- God must be a terrible judge ready to pounce on every sin. Finally, Ig-natius had a couple of days in which he felt free from scruples. 39 / Review for Religious, Januao,-February 1991 But on the third day, which was Tucsday, while at prayer hc began to re-member his sins one by one, and he went on thinking about one sin after the other out of his past and felt he was required to confess them again. But after these thoughts, disgust for the life he led and the desire to give it up came over him. In this way the Lord wished to awaken him as from a dream. 13 , Ignatius, we can speculate, has realized that the image of God with which he has operated thus far in Manresa was a product of the demon, and not an image of the true God. From the lessons God had given him hc now had some cxpcricncc of the di-versity of spirits, and he bcgan to wonder about the means by which that spirit had come. He decided very clearly, therefore, not to confess anything from the past anymore: from that day forward he remained free of those scru-ples and held it for certain that our Lord through his mercy had wished to deliver him.~'~ God is not implacable, but merciful, and Ignatius can count on this God. Thus he need not continually grub around in his mind for possible un-confessed sins. Immediately after recounting this discernment Ignatius describes how he rather easily discerned God's will in two matters which before would have led to agonizing indecision. He prayed for seven hours each day, but when it was time for bed, he was overcome with great spiritual con-solations which cost him much sleep. Wondering about this at times hc thought to himself that he had assigned much time for converse with God and all the rest of the day as well, and he began to doubt, therefore, whether that enlightenment came from a good spirit: he concluded that it would bc better to ignore it and to sleep for the appointed time. And so he did.~5 How his image of God has changed! In the next paragraph he describes how an experience of the image of meat compelled him to abandon with-out any hesitation or doubt his firm practice of never eating meat. Even when his confessor asked him to consider whether this was a temptation, Ignatius could not doubt that the good spirit was the source of the im-age. He then says: "God treated him at this time just as a schoolmaster treats a child whom he is teaching,''~6 and goes on to describe in five points the ways God revealed himself, culminating in the description of the extraordinary enlightenment on the banks of the Cardoner. After this experience he recognized the image of the serpent-like figure as a temp-tation. The final demonstration that the encounter with God changed lgna- The Changing Self-God hnage / 33 tius' self-God schema comes from the very next paragraphs where Igna-tius describes three instances when he faced death. The first occurred at Manresa when a fever brought him to death's door. He was convinced that he was about to die. At this a thought came to him telling him that he was just, but this caused him so much trouble that he rejected it and recalled his sins to mind. He had more trouble with this thought than with the fever itself, but no matter how much he strove to overcome the thought, he could not do so. Somewhat re-lieved of the fever so that he was not at the point of expiring, he began to cry out loudly, calling him a sinner and reminding him of the offenses hc had committed against God. ~7 Contrast this experience with the next one he describes. He was on ship from Spain to Italy and in a storm everyone on board was convinced that death was inevitable. At this time, examining himself carefully and preparing to die. he was un-able to be afraid of his sins or of being condemned, but he was greatly con-fused and sorrowful, as he believed he had not well used the gifts and graces which God our Lord had given him.~s Now Ignatius knows that he is a sinner, and that knowledge saddens him but it does not frighten him. He trusts in the mercy of God. The self- God image seems to be that of a person who is convinced that he is a sinner loved and forgiven by an all-merciful God. Then Ignatius describes a time in the year 1550 when he and every-one else were convinced that he was about to die of a fever. At this time, thinking about death, he felt such happiness and such spiritual consolation at having to die that he dissolved entirely into tears. This hap-pened so continually that he often stopped thinking about death so as not to feel so much consolation.~9 Now Ignatius seems to be enamored of God, totally caught up with the desire for ultimate union with God. Thoughts of his sins do not seem to arise. The self-God image seems to be that of beloved to lover. God has taught Ignatius the ultimate lesson of who God really is for Ignatius, and for all of us, Loverpar excellence. Fidelity to the relationship with God has changed Ignatius' image of God as well as his image of himself. Ignatius urges the one who directs the Spiritual Exercises to "per-mit the Creator to deal directly with the creature, and the creature directly with his Creator and Lord."2° In that encounter with God the retreatant can learn a new and more realistic self-God schema. All of us have sche-mata that impoverish our experience of God and, thus, of ourselves. In Review for Religious, January-February 1991 his Autobiography Ignatius shows himself as a pilgrim from a small view of God to one of God as Lover. Ignatius believed that the same change can happen to us. NOTES ~ See William A. Barry, "Jesuit Formation Today: An Invitation to Dialogue and Involvement," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, 20/5 (November, 1988), pp. 5- 8. 2 See Ana-Maria Rizzuto, Birth of the Living God: A Psychoanalytic Study (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1979). 3 Translated by Joseph F. O'Callaghan and edited by John C. Olin (New York: Har-per & Row, 1974). '~ Ibid, p. 24. 5 Ibid, pp. 30-31. 6 Ibid, p. 25. (Italics mine.) 7 lbid, p. 33. 8 Ibid, p. 33. 9 lbid, pp. 33-34. ~0 lbid, p. 35. ~ Quoted in Henry Guntrip, Psychotherapy and Religion (New York: Harper, 1957), p. 195. ~2 Ibid, p. 35. ~3 lbid, p. 36. ~'~ lbid, p. 36. ~5 Ibid, p. 37. ~6 lbid, p. 37. ~7 lbid, p. 40. ~8 /bid, p. 40. 19 lbid, pp. 40-41. 20 Louis J. Puhl, trans. The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola Uni-versity Press, 1951), No. 16. A.M.D.G.: Dedication or Directive? Walter J. Ong, S.J. Father Walter Ong, S.J., well-known writer of articles and books and long-time pro-fessor at St. Louis University, wrote this article for the September 1952 issue. His reflections on the A.M.D.G. motto remain just as timely today. His address is Jes-uit Hall; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. By a kind of irresistible momentum, as an expression becomes more and more widely circulated in the form of a byword or motto, it tends to lose its original identity. There is an externality attendant on all human com-munication, which is involved with the external senses and spoken words, and this externality becomes only aggravated on the lips of a crowd. By the time an expression becomes widely quoted, its sense tends to be controlled not by the purpose of those who originally drafted it, and gave it. its identity, but by the shifting kaleidoscope of external con-ditions. Thus Polonius' "Though this be madness, yet there is method in't," when it is quoted today, takes its meaning from the current signification of method as fixed by our interests and way of living, not from what Shakespeare meant when he wrote it and what his contemporaries under-stood. Today it is generally taken to mean that Hamlet's madness was directed to some ulterior purpose. But Shakespeare was referring rather to the interior organization of tl-ie speech Hamlet had just uttered--mad as it sounded, this speech gave evidence of being coherent, of being logi-cally organized in the way speeches should be. Literary history is strewn with stock 6xpressions whose meanings are lost in such easygoing misinterpretations.' This is true of secular litera-ture, but perhaps more of spiritual literature, for the fortunes of a spiri-tual expression are even more precarious as the very terms it deals in are 35 Review for Religious, Januat3,-Februat3, 1991 more elusive and fraught with deeper implications. When we try to give them close attention, to discover their real iden-tity, spiritual sayings have a way of tripping us up unawares--and the tripping up is done not only by what we might take for recondite spiri-tual maxims but by what are downright spiritual commonplaces. It comes as a shock for us to realize that the particular manner in which we em-ploy even so basic a motto as the Ad majorem Dei gloriam, or "To the greater glory of God," associated with St. Ignatius of Loyola does not quite correspond to the older use of the term. More and more, this phrase has come to be used as a motto or de-vice which is affixed as a sort of dedication to objects--to books, per-haps, or to banners or to buildings. Certainly, against such procedure no valid theological or ascetical objection can be urged. But it is worth not-ing that this procedure does represent a significant shift in emphasis. It represents a kind of externalization, as A.M.D.G. becomes a dedicatory motto for public proclamation. In such cases, the A.M.D.G. is felt as applied to the thing, used as a sort of spiritual rocket attachment to shoot the creature off Godward. Certainly, this is as it should be. Still, it does not quite represent the basic lgnatian use which reserves the phrase rather for interior applica-tion and prefers others .for publicity purposes. While it is true that the A.M.D.G. has roots in Christian tradition far older than St. Ignatius, so that we cannot expect his use to control the whole economy of the maxim, nevertheless, since the maxim as it is used today traces chiefly to him it is worth noting the nature of the current divergence. To do so, we may start with an actual incident. Some years ago, a non-Catholic friend of mine admonished me for not putting A.M.D.G. at the head of my letters to him--as, he said, all the other Jesuits who corresponded with him always did. Of course, in my letters to him I have used the initials ever since, but not without wondering whether the other Jesuits used to bludgeon me into the practice have not themselves been dragooned into it first by this intrepid promoter of Jesuit conformity. For the fact is that not a one of the Jesuits I I~now normally writes A.M.D.G. at the head of his letters--not when he writes to me, at any rate. It is simply not the general practice of Jesuits todo so, and apparently never has been. A strange fact, if A.M.D.G. is to be taken as a dedicatory motto. The reason is to be sought in history and tradition. As is well known to readers of her correspondence, St. Teresa of Avila had the practice of writing "Jesus" at the top of her letters. An odd motto, we may A.M.D.G. / 37 think. Not even a phrase. Just one word. Still, this, and not A.M.D.G. is the motto with Ignatian antecedents. It occurs over and over again at the head of St. Ignatius' letters published in the Monumenta lgnatiana, as A.M.D.G. does not. Similarly, the seal of the Society of Jesus from earliest times im-pressed or printed on books or documents or other objects bears not A.M.D.G. at all, but again this simple word "Jesus," abbreviated in its first three letters which, written in the Greek alphabet, are simply the "IHS" known to everyone as the monogram of our Lord. It is the seal, this "Jesus," on the title pages, and not the A.M.D.G. which serves to identify early Jesuitica. "Jesus" is the dedication which is applied to objects. Things, like men, are to put on Christ. This is one dedication, it should be remarked, or one motto, which is both easy and thought-provoking. What is more, as one simple, mys-terious word, it defies distortion. A second word might offer a purchase for applying pressure to this one and thus make distortion possible. But left alone, the mysterious Name retains its self-possession. Unalloyed, isolated, the name of Jesus becomes proof against the externalization which threatens everything that human expression touches. Thus, Jesuits fail to use A.M.D.G. to head their correspondence to-day because such usage has no place in their tradition from the very be-ginning. But this is far from saying that the A.M.D.G. is not central to the Catholic tradition of spirituality which flows through the Society of Jesus. On the contrary, the expression has its principal relevance and ap-plication at the very heart of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, which define this tradition. The relevance here is deeply interior, for here the Ad majorem Dei gloriam is referred to the individual soul at what we may call its extreme depth. It concerns the crisis within the individual consciousness which is the moment of decision, the moment when we make up our mind, the crisis so deep as to precede not only exterior ac-tion but even interior action as well, the crisis in which is set the act of the human will--"the selfless self of self," as Gerard Manley Hopkins has it, "most strange, most still." As their title is at pains to explain, the entire Spiritual Exercises are focused at these strange, still depths of decision within the soul. They have as their purpose to enable a man to make a decision as he should, without being swayed by things he should not be swayed by--"without being determined by an affection which might be badly ordered,~' the title of the Exercises states. St. Ignatius is at his most painstaking when, after the first two "weeks" of preparation, he finally comes to discuss 38 / Review for Religious, Janua13,-Februal3, 1991 how, in order so to make a decision, the individual must keep his eyes fixed on God. The discussion comes in the part of the Exercises called "Three Sorts of Humility," which bulks so large in his mind that Igna-tius does not treat it as a simple meditation in the way in which the ma-terial up to this point has been treated. Rather, introducing it here, he says that this material on three sorts of humility is to be pondered over the whole day through. This material is the last item in the Exercises before the "election" itself, the making of the decision toward which the whole Exercises are oriented. As the exercitant leaves the three sorts of humility to embark on the election itself, the state of mind which he has, with God's grace, prepared for himself is such that he is now to take his clue from God, and from God alone. In the last of the three sorts of humility he consid-ers, St. Ignatius envisions this preoccupation with God in all its present richness, at the point at which the depths of the individual soul are touched by the depths of revelation and of the Incarnation itself, which hereupon becomes an inseparable part of the Christian's way of making a choice. In the last analysis here, so much is the soul to take its clue from God and from God alone that the fact that God has decided on the Incar-nation, which means on a way of doing things more difficult than might otherwise have been, predisposes the soul to clutch to itself the difficul-ties rather than the easy things it encounters. The great manifestation of God to the world, the Incarnation, as St. Paul insists (Ph 2:6), began in an emptying-out of the Word, a step toward difficulty as, for the first time, one of the Persons of the Blessed Trinity became capable of suf-fering. The soul, eyes only on God, can never forget this initial determinant and dominant factor in the whole of the Redemption. The resulting state of mind can be called indifference in that it regards directly God alone, and not creatures. But in a sense, it is not indifference, because, in this vision of God, seen in terms of faith and the Incarnation, created reality is now included by virtue of God's own choice--Christ's body and soul are in the direct line of vision. They are testimony to the fact that, for reasons we cannot fully comprehend, God himself was not indifferent-- he chose to "empty" himself into a human body and soul, chose to be able to suffer when this was not necessary at all. The soul wants to copy God, since God is the End to which means are to be adapted. Regarding creatures as means in the light of natural reason alone, it can be indiffer-ent to them. But regarding them in the light of revelation, the soul sees A.M.D.G. / 39 that Christ's use of means involved more ,~uffering than seemed neces-sary. The result is a permanent torque boira s~ i,n the soul, an inclination toward what is difficult after the manner of Christ--an inclination justi-fiable nevertheless, curiously enough, as indifference on the score that it is a torque induced not by the means at all, but by the End, Christ, who is God. The inclination is mysterious and cannot be discussed fully here, but its authenticity is certified by the fact that the difficulties we have in explaining it parallel those we have in explaining God's choice of means to his end in the Redemption. This inclination cannot quite translate itself directly into action, for suffering is necessarily passive, and the activity involved in the direct infliction of suffering, even on self, is not what St. Ignatius has in mind, for he says nothing about it here. But the inclination is none the less a positive inclination, for in the meditation on the "Two Standards" al-though there is question of being received in the band of those who en-dure actual poverty and of bearing injuries and embarrassments, St. lg-naiius directs the exercitant to pray positively and actively to be allowed to undergo these things. The mixture of activity and passivity is of a piece with Christ's passion, which was utldergotle by Christ, not inflicted on himself, but for which he offered himself positively by an act of his human will, and which was thereby a welcome means when it was pre-sented to him. Ultimately, the mystery here traces to the fact that the end is not suffering, but God, and that by the Incarnation God became in-volved personally in suffering. This inclination or bias toward what is difficult is the matter of the third sort of humility envisioned by St. Ignatius, and it is when the exer-citant has thus descended deep into the mysteries of Christianity to find the framework for the making of a proper choice that he encounters in full force the prescription Ad majorem Dei gloriam. Two ways of mak-ing the election or choice are reviewed by St. Ignatius, and in both the exercitant is counseled to let the determinant in the balance be God's greater glory. In the first way, the soul is to consider before God con-cerning the alternatives it is faced with, "what tends more to his praise and glory." In the second, it is again to consider what, in a similar case of various alternatives, it would counsel another to do "for the greater glory of God." "Greater," it will be seen here, enters into the scheme precisely be-cause there is question of comparing alternatives. The famous expres-sion is thus as central as it is to the tradition that comes to us through 40 / Review for Religious, Januarv-Februar\, 1991 St. Ignatius because it is inseparably engaged with the focal Ignatian ac-tivity of making a choice. That the expression is thus polarized as a prin-ciple of decision rather than as a dedication of existing reality can be con-firmed in this same part of the Exercises concerning the "election." For, in this very context, when Ignatius comes to speak of something other than the making of a choice, he drops the "majorem" to say that man exists "for the glory of God" ("ad Dei gloriam" in the "Vulgate" ver-sion, that rendered by Father Andr~ de Freux, S.J., into Latin accept-able to Renaissance humanists, which Ignatius could not write, but gone over and approved by the Saint himself) or "to praise God our Lord" ("ad laudandum Deum Dominum nostrum," in the "Literal" version made to keep close to St. Ignatius's Spanish by Father John Roothaan). Because of the focus of the phrase as a principle of choice, in the "To the greater glory of God," it is the "greater" and not the "glory" which receives the psychological stress, the glory being in a sense taken for granted: any action, and more particularly any action done for God, adds to God's "accidental" glory, that is, adds something to created re-ality and activity which can be referred to him. This reference of the "greater" is eclipsed when the phrase is understood simply as a dedi-cation, and a puzzle easily results. For, simply as a dedication, how can "To the greater glory of God" be preferable to the simple declaration "To the glory of God"? If an object is devoted entirely to the glory of God, what more can be asked. The puzzle here can give rise to strange answers, expressed or implied. There is an American city in which a large Masonic temple standing opposite a much larger Catholic university bears on its facade the dedi-cation "To the glory of God." Most of the Catholic university's stu-dents are conscious of the more familiar "To the greater glory of God." Do they fix their attention on the "greater" so as to construe the uni-versity's commitment to this motto as a brag, a gesture vaunting the uni-versity's activity in the face of that of the Freemasons across the street? Nothing could be further from the truth or from the spirit animating St. Ignatius, but the interpretation is inviting insofar as the fact is lost sight of that A.M.D.G. applies primarily to the depths of one's soul. Even there, it is a principle for making choices, not for congratulating our-selves on past choices we have made. The Spiritual Exercises are the earliest of Ignatius' own major writ-ings, and they determine the case of his further written work, as of his whole life. This determination makes it possible to observe the workings of the phrase Ad majorem Dei gloria~n on an even larger field than that A.M.D.G. / 41 of the Exercises themselves. The lengthiest of St. Ignatius' written works are the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, and in these the Ad majorem Dei gloriam occurs so often as to become almost a refrain. It does not lose its primary orientation here. This orientation toward the choice of one among various alternative means is patent enough when the phrase occurs in a place where the Con-stitutions do not determine a procedure in detail but leave the determi-nation to be made by the superior or by the subject in terms of the indi-vidual case--a thing they do far more often than persons who do not know them might believe, for St. Ignatius had a great distrust of strait-jacketed procedure. Here the Ad majoreJn Dei gloriam comes into its own, for it is posed explicitly as the instrument and directive for action, for meeting a time of decision and making a choice. For this, it avails in great things and in small. It is to be the princi-ple for decisions taken in the General Congregation of the whole Soci-ety of Jesus, which meets only on such important occasions as that of the election of the General (Constitutions, VIII, vii, I). But it is also a principle of ordinary day-by-day life. The Jesuit in his studies, wonder-ingjust what mixture of literary and spiritual conversation would be best with the other students he is thrown with, is told that he must measure his decision here, as the General Congregation must measure its deci-sion, by what in each individual case is "ad majorem Dei gloriam" (Con-stitutions, IV, iv, 6). Instances of like sort can be multiplied from through-out the Constitutions. The Ad majorem Dei gloriam is similarly oriented toward choice when it occurs in the Constitutions in places where the alternatives are not left free but a definite policy decided upon. This becomes clear when the phrase is seen in the light of what the Constitutions are and how they were written. The Constitutions are not meditations or doctrinal instruc-tions, but directives for procedure, and as such they are of their very na-ture determinations, matters on which the mind is made up, a decision taken. But if they are decisions, someone had to draft them in the first place, and it was St. Ignatius to whom the task fell. The accounts of St. Ignatius' life leave no doubt that the making of these decisions was not easy for St. Ignatius. In his own autobiography, as recounted to Father Luis Gonzales, he tells how he spent forty days coming to a decision on just two points alone, and how at these tires he was preoccupied singu-larly with God. Once the principle of choice is given and accepted in the full, it may still take labor to decide wha~ God's will really is, although we become more adept at this by spiritual maturity and by prayer. Hence, 49/Review for Religious, January-February 1991 when the Constitutions prescribe--as they do so often that it is superflu-ous to list passages--that a thing be done this way rather than that way "for the greater glory of God," we have in the phrase a reminiscence of the labor of St. Ignatius, an echo of the deliberation prefaced to this act of choice, which is protracted permanently in the Constitutions. Here it does seem that the phrase becomes almost a dedication, and, in a certain sense, it really does insofar as a dedication represents a kind of protraction of an act of the will made in the past. But if it is a dedica-tion, it is one of a special kind which arises out of what we may call a choice-situation. The apparently tautological "more" is a permanent re-minder of this fact. In this sense, the phrase is a useful reminder of a decision made for God, a means of protracting the decision and of keeping our attention on him. In this sense, too, used as a motto, the A.M.D.G. is perhaps a little disconcerting in the way it points to the interior of our own hearts. Inscribed on a building, it does more than point to the building and more than point the building to God. It points to our own interior life. In ef-fect, it says that this object represents somehow a choice we have made with our eyes on God. So long as this fact is kept in mind, the motto will notbe a perfunc-tory label. We cannot reverse the evolution of the use of this phrase, even if we should want to. Changes in emphasis such as this evolution repre-sents correspond to altered emphases within the reality around us and have behind them psychological and sociological drives which we would be hard put to counter. But the drift toward externalization here is some-thing we must always be ready to resist. It is good to remind ourselves that the A.M.D.G. is basically a directive concerned with something deep within us, with a focus of our being which none but God and our-selves can touch. It applies primarily not to buildings nor to books nor to letters, but to the brink of decision within us. "To the greater glory of God" is not a mere label, but the baring of one's soul. Finding God in a Busy Day David Keith Townsend, S.J. Father David Townsend, S.J., a member of the British Province of the Society of Jesus, is part of the staff of St. Beuno's Spiritual Exercises Centre. His address is St. Beuno's; St. Asaph, Clwyd; North Wales LLI7 0AS; Great Britain. [~]any of our current Western prayer-forms were first elaborated in earlier times, when people lived in an atmosphere of faith, and in a Europe which was Christendom. Such is the case with the examen. Until quite recently, in English-speaking countries, the examen was known popu-larly as The Examination of Conscience. Despite all attempts to modern-ize, rename, and generally rehabilitate the examen, by calling it the Con-sciousness Examen or the Daily Review of Life, its origins lie in an un-divided Christendom. Moreover, the examen owes much to its use by St. Ignatius Loyola, the sixteenth-century founder of the Society of Jesus, in his book the Spiritual Exercises. We do well to remind ourselves that we are not sixteenth-century Christians living in Europe at a time when an undivided Christendom was being rent asunder. Then, despite the religious quarrels, the vast major-ity of the citizens of Europe were Christian believers. The majority of those who were not Christian believers would tliemselves have been be-lievers in the One God. The existence of God was generally acknowl-edged to be real both in public as well as in private relationships. God was explicit. The Divine Reality was woven into every aspect of life, and at every level. The World of Today's Christian The God-pervasiveness of the past is totally unlike the atmosphere in which the twentieth-century believer lives. At least, it is quite unlike 43 44 / Review for Religious, January-February 1991 the secularism and individualism prevalent today in First World coun-tries. In earlier eras God was part of the atmosphere breathed. Then the reality of God did not have to be positively fostered. God was palpably present, not least in the hearts and minds of the people and in the shrines strewn throughout both town and countryside. Today, in the developed countries of the West, God is excluded from public relationships, except, perhaps, for great state occasions and other similar formal and cultural events. Perhaps, too, God is excluded in ef-fect from the majority of private relationships. There is a prevailing at-mosphere, if not of unbelief, then, certainly, of the suspension of belief. The atmosphere is not one of faith. At best, and perhaps for the most part, God is an irrelevancy. God rarely enters into the considerations of a person or of a group concerning the living of life or the making of decisions. For the major-ity today there is little awareness of the involvement of God in each and every aspect of life. For so many, it is not God-mindedness that lies at the center of their world and universe. Therefore, for the majority there is little attempt to discover what God might be doing in our own times. Neither individual Christians nor whole Christian communities are exempt from the effects of this lack of God-mindedness. Individual Chris-tians and whole Christian communities are not removed from the pro-cesses at work in society at large. Whatever can be said regarding sociopo-litical processes and their effect on the individual Christian applies with perhaps even more force to the churches and to any.groupings of Chris-tian people. The contemporary believer, as an individual and as a mem-ber of a particular Christian community, is not spared being influenced by the prevalent atmosphere which would relegate God to particular places, to particular times and circumstances, to particular types of per-sons, even, perhaps, to complete oblivion. Reality being what it is, a Christian's first task today, and the first task of any Christian group, is the fostering of a positive awareness of, and a sense for, the reality of God in life. Believers need to ensure that they bring into each and every aspect of life a faith in God's involve-ment in the world. The individual believer, together with others, can then strive to read the signs of the times. It then becomes possible to know what God's activity is, in the wider world, and in the more personal worlds of both individual Christians and the groups to which they be-long. Today Christians have to do battle lest practical unbelief increasingly and negatively affect their manner of living with God. As always, life Finding God in a Bus), Day / 45 itself will be the reality check on the truth of such a "faith-full" God-centered life. The truth concerning the centrality and authenticity of the Christian group's faith, as that of the individual Christian, will show it-self in action: in the quality of the decisions made, in the values inform-ing those decisions, in the relationships formed, and in the quality of the attitudes informing those relationships. These qualities will show them-selves as much in the public spheres of life as in the private. The examen itself can so easily degenerate without the explicit, posi-tive fostering and nourishing of this element of belief in God being pres-ent and at work in all of life, both personal and communal. It can de-generate either into that kind of harsh moralizing which does not need God and which suffers from the absence of the God of compassion. Or it can degenerate into an un-christian and self-centered form of self-improving. The experiences of those brought up in the past on the examination of conscience suggest that both forms of degeneration can all too easily occur. Both forms of degeneration are differing forms of idolatry. The idol has no place for the life-giving, creative Trinity. The True God is effectively ousted. Something humanly created attempts to replace the uncreated Trinity (see Psalm 135:14-17). With the self focus, of course, the examen ceases to be God centered, and so ceases to be prayer. The examen becomes barren. Hardly surprisingly the result was frequently a total abandonment of this particular prayer exercise. The Day: Divine Meeting-Place A help in this crucial self-composing in faith is to consider the day as the privileged place for the moment-to-moment meeting with God. Likewise, the day is the place where that meeting with God can fail to be effective. Then, in this latter case, although there is the presence of God to the believer, this presence is neither acknowledged nor recipro-cated. There can be then no specific and concrete awareness of the pres-ence of God to the believer. There can be then no specific and concrete awareness of the presence of the believer to God. What is said here of an individual Christian speaks with greater force when applied to whole Christian communities. Christians believe that God is being revealed continually. The work of creation and salvation does not cease. The divine activity continues in and through the places, the events, the groups, and the people of the day. If this is the case, it does seem rather important to look at this day in which Christians and Christian ggoups meet and fail to meet God. The day is the providential vehicle for this meeting. It is by means Review for Religious, Januap3,-Februat3, 1991 of this daily providence that an individual's commitment to God finds, and fails to find, its expression and reality. It is, after all, in the day that believers live out, and fail to live out, the appropriate response to that particular calling of God which we name "vocation." It is in the day that a Christian family, or other Christian group, lives out, and fails to live out, its appropriate response to its "vocation." The day is where God moment-to-moment exercises loving provi-dence over all, including this believer and this believing community. The day is where Christians allow, and do not allow, God to work the divine desires for them. The day is the place where believers respond, and do not respond, to the moment-to-moment calls to the love and service of those around. The day is where the Christian community lives out, and does not live out, in concrete detail, the implications of its own special calling and vocation. With the viewpoint and the perspective of a faith in God present and at work in the world and among all the peoples of the world, the succes-sion of days allows the believer to see whether and to what extent the various human communities, including that believer's own Christian com-munity, are responding to the calls to justice, love, and service. The in-dividual believer, challenged by the Gospel of Jesus, will sense how his or her own desire is touched. The Gospel stirs in the believer desires to respond to personal and world events in a more Christ-like way. That Gos-pel challenge and the promise of Jesus, shared with others, will revital-ize the Christian community, for the life of the world. How can a person, or a group of people living and working together, grow in awareness and sensitivity to the God living and working in their own world and life? The simple answer: Look back over the day.t Not just to look back in general terms, but to look back expressly seeking to find where God has been active for that individual in his or her own world and life that day. To look back to see where concretely and spe-cifically God has been present and active for that community. To look back, to see, and to share with others what is seen. The examen is a way of initiating and facilitating this inner dialogue for each individual. The examen can become a communal experience of God's goodness and presence when shared in the family or other Chris-tian group. The examen challenges the individual and the group as if to say, "How can you say you are living a Christian life, if you never re-flect on it?" Or, "How can you say you are doing God's will if you never look to see what it is that you really are doing'?" Or, "How can you say you believe in God present and active in the world for all peo- Finding God in a Busy Day / 47 pie if you never reflect on the divine meaning of each day?" Or, "You say you want to serve Christ, and you want to live a more Christ-like life; well then, reflect on how your day has been, and let the experience of that day teach you what it will." Believers and Christian groups claim that they have faith in God work-ing through the Spirit both in their lives and in the world. Unfortunately, only very few seem to reflect positively on this crucial fact. The examen is a short prayer exercise which can assist in developing in a believer, and within a Christian community, a greater positive awareness of and sensitivity to the presence of God. There develops a sense of the con-crete ways God has been working in him, her, or them during the day. This greater positive sense of God can lead the believer, and that be-liever's community, to a more accurate and to a more immediate re-sponse to the initiatives of God's presence as they occur moment-to-moment during the day. Christians can become much more finely tuned to the presence and activity of the divine, moment-to-moment during the day. The deeper sense of the divine allows the Christian and the com-munity to respond so as to become molded according to the desires of the Trinity, to become "God's work of art" (Ep 2:10). The examen, therefore, becomes a particular application of the Con-templation To Attain The Love Of God, found at the end of the book of the Spiritual Exercises (see Ex. 230-7). There, having made the full Spiri-tual Exercises, the retreatant prayerfully becomes aware of and contem-plates the reality of the Trinity present and at work in all of creation, in the struggle, in the effort, and in the disappointment, as much as in all else. In the offering "Take, Lord, and receive" (Ex. 234), of the Con-templation To Attain The Love Of God, the retreatant makes a commit-ment to live out that contemplative presence to the divine in ,the actual realities of daily life. The examen can become an examination of the extent to which the person's actual response to this moment-to-moment divine presence, ex-pressed in that offering of the Contemplation To Attain The Love Of God, is rooted or not in the realities of actual daily living. When, by the shar-ing of individuals, the examen is allowed to become the prayer of a peo-ple, a family, a community, a church, that Christian group will be con-stantly recommitting itself, from within its contemplation of the love of God present and at work in its communal life, to a profound communal service. In our own day We experience the godly social challenge and influence exercised by such Christian groups, for example the base Chris-tian communities. 48 / Review for Religious, January-February 1991 The examen can also indicate just how inclusive or exclusive is the life of an individual Christian or the corporate life of a Christian com-munity. A community's world, like a person's world, can be larger or smaller, embracing more or less, more self-centered or more other-centered. The examen can throw light on just how much or how little of the world is allowed by believers to reveal the Trinity at work. The examen, therefore, can be the instrument whereby a Christian or the Christian community is invited by God to widen the area of peo-ple, groups, places, and circumstances in which the love and justice of God, and the God of love and the God of justice, can be found. The ex-amen can become the instrument whereby the individual Christian and the Christian group are invited to make an ever larger self-offering. The examen can be an aid to believers becoming more greatly involved in the ever wider love of God wherever it is found. The love of God urges Chris-tians as individuals and as communities to a greater concern (see 2 Co 5: 14). Traditionally, there have been five aspects or moments to the ex-amen. On any individual occasion one or more of these aspects will pre-dominate. That being so, it is enough to say here that these five aspects are not a syllabus to be plowed through relentlessly on each occasion. On any one occasion of praying the examen, the believer, and indeed a Christian group praying the examen together, gives to any of these as-pects the time needed and desired. The examen is prayer. Therefore, the one praying the examen remains in the aspect where he, she, or they find what is sought without trying to hurry through the other aspects. The First Aspect: Gratitude Thefirst aspect is the fostering of an attitude of thanksgiving, or grati-tude. For the person or group developing such an attitude, there is noth-ing that has not been given. Here, therefore, Christians are not being thankful merely for those aspects of the day that have given pleasure whilst remaining unthankful for those aspects of the day that have not pleased. The believer is not picking and choosing what to be thankful about, in the sense of choosing some things, events, or people, but rejecting oth-ers. Some aspects of the day may, indeed, stand out positively from the rest. Here Christians, as anyone would, will be grateful for such aspects. But such thankfulness for what is gratifying does not exhaust what is meant by gratitude. In praying for gratitude Christians are asking to be responsive to a God whose nature it is to givel and to give freely and constantly. This Finding God in a Busy Day / 49 is the attitude of true humility and of spiritual poverty. The believer, the believer's family, the Christian community, and, indeed, the whole of creation, is always on the receiving end of gift. The believer has noth-ing except what is given. What is given is given to be enjoyed and to be shared. In gratitude for such gift, the Giver is received. The Christian will be trying to foster this sense of gratitude in her or his own personal life experiences. The Christian community likewise will be trying to foster a communal sense of gratitude in its life experi-ences. Those areas of life, of persons, groups, places, and events, which seem to lack gratitude will stand out in contrast. Into these areas the per-son and the community will endeavor to bring both thanksgiving and the God who is thanked. Christians will not restrict the fostering of gratitude to personal life experiences. Christians will want to foster an ever wider sense of grati-tude that will embrace larger society. Such positive social fosterings of gratitude in Christian people will raise an awareness of that lack of grati-tude which is part of the fabric and organization of wider society. Christians will notice where ingratitude, where possessiveness and greed, where pride and arrogance are at work in the world, in political and social decisions, in the way corporations and public life are orga-nized. Believers will see where God is excluded effectively from public life. Believers will notice who are the ones who suffer in consequence. Believers will see the destructive effects of communal avarice and ag-gression on the life of the very world which God has given as gift to all (see Is 45:! 8). Again the person of faith and the faithful community will endeavor to bring both thanksgiving and the God of gifts who is thanked into these social areas of life. The believer, in his or her own person, is God's most crucial gift. He or she is the gift by which all other things can be known, and known as gifts. The believer is the gift in which, and by which, the person's own giftedness can be known. Gratitude, or thanksgiving, is the attitude in which the believer acknowledges, and expresses, his or her own di-vine giftedness. Gratitude allows the believer to be gift in such a way that the Giver of the gift is also received. Without thanksgiving the individual will belittle himself or herself. When the creation which is that individual is despised, so too is the Crea-tor despised and excluded. It is obvious how important it is that grati-tude and thanksgiving be the very essence of a Christian community's shared life together. St. Paul's letters to the churches are full of such ref-erences. The Christian community's great gathering and centering of life 50 / Review for Religious, January-February 1991 is called the Thanksgiving, Eucharist. Persons with faith in the goodness of God cannot but want to prize that same sense of gift in others. Seeing the God-who-becomes-incarnate in any and every human face can have the effect of helping oth-ers to believe in themselves. Individual Christians with such awareness will be less likely to denigrate another. Christian communities with such awareness will be less likely to denigrate either individuals or other com-munities. Perhaps, even, the other individuals or other groups concerned will be less likely to denigrate themselves. Individuals, whether Chris-tian or not, with a sense of gratitude in themselves are less likely to ac-cept the denigration of others, since their affirmation and encouragement comes from "the God of all consolation" (2 Co !:3). This sense of one's own personal worth, together with the sense of worth of every other individual, as being God's handiwork and being made in God's image (see Gn 1:27), will automatically throw in relief the areas in private life and in public life where such worth is lacking or where it is being withheld. Again these areas are going to relate to particular kinds of people, particular groups, particular places, and par-ticular activities. Believers will notice the cruel effects of this version of ingratitude which would try to denigrate and undermine the sense of gift and the sense of worth in a human being, or, indeed, which would try to dispar-age whole categories of human beings. All too often we, as individuals and as members of groups in society, give worth and withhold worth ac-cording to our own immediate advantage and benefit, both as individu-als and as members of wider society. Only a God-given gratitude for all will inspire and challenge individuals and larger groups to a wider, less selfish, and less self-centered vision. It is in this moment of thanksgiving that believers spend the time that is required to become aware of their need to be grateful: to savor and be in touch with the giftedness of their own lives and living; to savor and be in touch with the God who gives, who gifts. In a world that has little practical use for God, and where aggressive consumerism, productivity, success, and achievement color all, this orientation of gratitude, in faith-ful receptivity to giftedness before God, the Giver of all good gifts (see Jm i :17), is all the more important. The very effort to become aware in gratitude helps counter any tendency to be God-forgetful. Gratitude, in fact and in desire, can help stop a person or a group of people relating to themselves, to other people, to other groups, to the events and to the places of the day in a largely self-centered manner. Finding God in a Busy Day / ~ As the effects of gratitude develop, so too does the awareness that social and political decisions affect people in similarly self-centered ways. There may grow in believers a practical commitment to greater jus-tice for all in society. Gratitude centers a person and a community on the divine reality. The individual, that individual's injustices and self-centered gratifications, and the selfishnesses of that individual's society can no longer form the center of the world. Similarly that individual's family, group or community, together with that group's own self-centered gratifications, selfishnesses, and injustices can no longer form the center of the world. Christians are opened to seeing gift in the unex-pected. Such people can be surprised by the God of surprises. This first aspect of the examen also helps put believers in a better perspective before all that has been going on in the course of the day. The attitude of thanksgiving helps center Christians on the Trinity at work moment-to-moment in the day. The word "Trini.ty" reminds Chris-tians that God is "community." To be caught up into the life of the Trin-ity is to be caught,up into the lives of all aspects of creation. To be caught up into the life of any part of creation is to be caught up into the life of the Trinity (see Mt 25:31-46). So Christians will become aware of the Trinity at work not only in private life, but in the wider life of society. Gratitude allows believers and believing communities to include more and more of life and society under the challenge of the divine benevo-lence and goodness. As gratitude, or the desire for it, touches people, so those people can enter into gratitude, and respond to it in ways that seem appropriate. It may be that an individual or a community will feel drawn to make a con-crete commitment to gratitude in some public or social manner. In some way that is real to an individual or to a community, an appropriate re-sponse will be expressed to the Trinity, to the God who gives: Father, Son, and Spirit. The Evangelist St. Luke puts the Magnifica~t (see Lk !:46-45) on the lips of Mary, the Mother of the Lord, as her appropriate response to her exulting in the great things the Lord has done for her, and following her "yes" of acceptance to the invitation of God's good-ness to be at the service of the Word. The Second Aspect: Light The second aspect is to ask for light. Since believers receive all from the gifting of the Trinity, believers ask from the Trinity the gift of wis-dom, the gift of being open to seeing as the Trinity sees. The

Issue 38.2 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; Psychotherapy: Its Potential and Limit Models of Community A Directory for the use of Scripture in Retreat Volume 38 Number 2 March 1979 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Depa:-tment of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March, 1979 Volume 38 Number 2 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIC:IOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Religious and Social Justice Mary Evelyn Jegen, S.N.D. Sister Mary Evelyn is an adjunct faculty member of Mundelein College in Chicago, and teaches in the Christian Spirituality Program at Creightori University in Omaha. She resides at 3000 N. Mango Ave.; Chicago, IL 60634. istorically we are still in an early phase of the age of the Second Vatican Council. The context of our call to collaborate in the work of human promotion is beautifully stated in the opening words of the Pastoral Consti-tution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et Spes). Here, in language that has the grandeur and immediacy of a psalm, is set forth the intimate bond between the Church and society, or more precisely, between the Church and all humanity: The joys and hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these too are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ. When we specify the "joys and hope.s, the griefs and anxieties" of all our brothers and sisters, we find those signs of the times, those temporal sacramentals in which God reveals himself to hs, and through which he calls us forward to .freedom" in him. What, then, are the most visible "joys and hopes, griefs and anxi-eties" for our sister and brother religious today? We recognize in the reality of our religious life itself the most profound sign of joy and hope. There are reasons which transcend history, but there are also historical factors which today take on particular significance. It is a.prophetic sign for our times that religious life carries within it the seed and promise of that global community which transcends narrow nationalism. Today, in a way that has never been 161 162 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 true before, the very survival of the human race depends on the ability to transcend local and national loyalties without abandoning them. And reli-gious have some experience of this. Imperfect as religious life is, carrying the scars of personal and collec-tive sin, it also shines with the brilliance of the healing, redemptive love of Jesus. Because we each have our own congregation and local community, we forget that we also exist as a whole, that we are physically present in the world as a transnational community founded on a commitment to a radical following of the Way of Jesus. World civilization has reached the stage where.its continuation depends on the ability of all men to perceive and express in many ways their solidarity with a race that is fundamentally one. They must learn to experience the unity of the human family which has become increasingly interdependent. Physical and economic interdepend-ence is a fact. The oil-rich countries, if they choose, can paralyze the world. The food-rich countries can starve the world into submission. Neither would need to deploy a single bomb. In such a world, what must become a choice is love. We must love or perish. And how is that love to be expressed? In the words of.Pope Paul VI at the Eucharistic Congress in Bogotb.: "Justice is love's absolute minimum." Reflecting, then, on the nature of religious life as it both expresses and prefigures the necessary evolution of the human family towards unity, we begin to come to an intuition that our transnational nature should manifest itself in signs that can easily be read by others. This becomes even more clear when we turn to a reflection on the other griefs and anxieties of so many of the men, women, and children of our time. In Octogesima Adveniens (1971), Pope Paul called our attention to the "new poor," those on the fringe of society. In actual fact, the "marginal" constitute the vast majority of the human family. These are the ones who do not have access to an equitable share of the underpinnings of life. It is difficult for men to bring this home to themselves when they do not live in daily contact with such all-pervasive suffering. But they are kept at least minimally aware through religious, and others, who have physically cast their lot with the poor. Though there are many forms of human suffering today, two global manifestations of injustice are of such magnitude that the effect can be numbing. These two griefs and anxieties are hunger and the arms race. The first is the greatest actual killer of the innocent; the second is the increas-ingly dangerous threat to the continuation of the human race itself. And the two are intimately connected in a cause-and-effect relationship. Even if the arms are never used, according to a Vatican note to the Secretary General of the United Nations (30 April, 1976), the armaments race "is in itself an act of aggression against those who are the victims of it. It is an act of aggression which amounts to a crime, for even when they are not used, by their cost alone, armaments kill the poor by causing them to starve." Religious and Social Justice / 163 Hunger still condemns 450 million of our brothers and sisters to an earthly existence which is degrading and destructive. The spectacle of 5000 hungry people moved Jesus to active compassion. How are we called to respond to children gone blind for lack of vitamin A, to the grief of parents unable to provide food for their offspring? It is in this context that our Holy Father and the bishops in the 1974 Synod issued a statement on the human rights most threatened today. Under the title of the right to life, they specified the arms race as "an insanity that burdens the world and creates the conditions for even more massive destruction of life." They next specified "the right to eat" as "directly linked to the right to life," and they called upon governments, not merely individuals, "to undergo a conversion in their attitude toward the victims of hunger, to respond to the imperatives of justice and reconcilia-tion and speedily to find the means of feeding those who are without food." Within weeks of that statement, Pope Paul iterated the concept of the "right to eat" in an address to the delegates to the World Food Conference, November 9, 1974. He said: The right to satisfy one's hunger must finally be recognized for everyone, accord-ing to the specific requirements of his age and activity. This right is based on the fact that all the goods of the earth are destined primarily for universal use and for the subsistence of all men, before any individual appropriation. Christ based theju'dgment of each human being on respect for this right (see Mt. 25:34). He went on to make a recommendation linking, concretely two central issues of justice and peace, when he said, As far back as 1964, on the occasion of our journey to India, we launched an appeal to the nations, asking that, by a truly substantial commitment--the result mainly of a reduction in expenditures on arms~there be set up a Fund with the aim of giving a decisive impulse to the integral advancement of the less well-endowed sectors of mankind. Today the time has come for an energetic and bindin~ decision along the same lines. Will such a decision--not yet obtained by a sense of solidarity or rather elementary social justice, which consists not only in not "'stealing" but also in know-ing how to share--finally be imposed by the perils of the present moment? The link between violence and injustice, and therefore, between peace and justice, is. intrinsic. It is p.rophesied in Isaiah: "They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks." Today we cannot have food for the hungry unless we purchase it at the expense of preparation for genocidal war. The call to religious to become engaged in the work of human promotion may take many forms. Certainly the call to re.ligious who form a corporate body, a body transcending national boundaries, is a call to enter more deeply, prophetically, and sacrificially into the struggle for peace and jus-tice, a call expressed in the agony of human destruction through hunger and the agony that witnesses the escalation of preparations for war. Later in thispaper I will try to.suggest some concrete possibilities. "164 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 Perceptions of Religious in Various Situations First, however, let us review the different situations of religious in our world, a world which is characterized by the joys, hopes, griefs and anxie-ties described above. In some places, religious perceive as their greatest problem and challenge an oppressive political regime which also stifles religious liberty, threatening the possibility of an authentic catechesis. These totalitarian regimes are related to ideologies of the "left" in Eastern Europe and some parts of Asia, and to the "right," especially in Latin America. In either case, any adequate analysis will reveal institutionalized fear at the rort of oppressive political structures. Ultimately, only the liberty of the children of God tan heal that fear, and we seem a very great distance from that liberty. In other places, Western Europe and North America, for example, religious perceive acutely a responsibility to resist many elements of their society which they see as unjustly exploiting the poor and the weak around the world. If the economic practices of the affluent nations do not always directly cause hunger and poverty, at the very least these practices do not vigorously seek to redress an unjust situation. The gap between the rich and poor continues to widen, as the rich have more goods and more power, even when this is at the expense of the vast majority who have relatively less--less even of the basic necessities of life, and less power over their destinies. That is why a macro-analysis of global economics which includes an examination of trade and financial policies (lending and foreign aid) and of the practices of multinational corporations leads inescapably to the con-clusion that no amount of individual generosity, though it is more in-dispensable than ever, can get at the root-causes of poverty and oppression in our world. Moved b~, the compassion of our Lord, we must turn our efforts towards nothing less than reshaping the political and economic institutions which control the lives of all of us. Surely this is what the Synod Fathers meant in 1971, when they said that "Action on behalf of justice and for the transformation of the world fully appears to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppres-sive. situation." Obviously, we must find ways of acting in concert with many others. To work in any other way would be to admit that either we do not understand the situation or that we do not care enough to become realistically engaged in the struggle for justice and peace. The Spirituality of Human Promotion We are all aware of the phenomenon of the person who burns himself out in activity related to social injustice. This points to the importance of finding the key to a spiritual dynamic which will sustain action without Religious and Social Justice / 165 destroying the person. We find such a dynamic in the reality of freedom or liberty. Freedom is both gift and prize; and, as prize, it is won not once and for all. Rather, it develops organically, as it were, once certain fundamental choices are made. In The Church in the Modern World there is a marvelous description of the external conditions of human liberty. Article 31 reads: Now a man can scarcely arrive at the needed sense of responsibility unless his living conditions allow him to be conscious of his dignity, and to rise to his destiny by spending himself for God and for others. But human freedom is often crippled when a man falls into extreme poverty, just as it withers when he indulges in too many of life's comforts and imprisons hi.mself in a kindof splendid isolation. Freedom acquires new strength, by contrast, when a man consents to the unavoidable requirements of social life, takes on the manifold demands of human partnership, and commits himself to the service of the hum&n community. Hence, the will to play one's role in common endeavors should be everywhere encouraged. This passage aptly describes the external situation of a free person, a person whose life is ordered, by commitment, to the service of the human community, to service by deliberate choice. As the passage points out, this kind of freedom is crippled when a person is caught in a situation where all energies must be expended in providing for survival needs. It is a kind of obscenity to talk about freedom to a person or a nation that is denied access to control over the means of production and distribution of basic goods. But freedom can also wither, and this is, too, the case, according to the passage just quoted, when a person "indulges in too many of life's comforts and imprisons himself in a kind of splendid isolation." This is the state of many people of the rich nations, who have only a foggy, shallow notion of the political and economic realities of most of the human family. We re-ligious must not avoid the continuing and painful examination that looks to see whether, and to what extent, we are among those whose spiritual freedom or maturity (the two are the same) is debilitated by a materially comfortable way of life. The 1971 Synod document, Justice in the World, asked for this ongoing corporate examination of conscience. Have we re-sponded to the call of the Lord in the pointed question (Article 48), " . . . [Does] our life-style exemplify that sparingness with regard to consumption which we preach to others as necessary in order that so many millions of hungry people throughout the world may be fed?" But what is the interior dynamic of a free person, a person committed to the service of the human community? Here, Justice in the World pro-vides a response, founded on a Pauline theology: According to Saint Paul, the whole of the Christian life is summed up in faith effecting that love and service of neighbor which involve thefulfillment of the demands of justice. The Christian lives under the interior law of liberty, which is a permanent call to man to turn away from self-sufficiency to confidence in God, and from concern for self to a sincere love of neighbor. Thus takes place his genuine liberation and the gift of himself for the freedom of others. "166 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 On the personal level, this interior law of freedom involves a call to shift the center of one's existence, or, in the more beautiful words of Jesus, to let the seed die, to lose one's life in order to find it, to lay down one's life for one's friends, knowing that only this is the full measure of love. Only those who are willing to die are free. For us Christians, this willingness can only be a gift, the gift of a growing identification with Jesus in his passion, death, and resurrection. The obstacles to the shift of one's center, or to living in the interior law of liberty, are fundamentally fear and selfishness. These counterweights to liberty are embodied in institutions as well as in the human heart. It is precisely where the process of personal conversion bears on the effort at structural change or conversion that we have a struggle, an "agony," an experience of the mystery of the Cross. Corporate Action for Human Promotion Having reflected on the exterior and interior dynamics of freedom in the Lord, we ask ourselves this question. Are there any ways in which religious across the world could act in concert in'the work of human promotion? The deepest value of concerted action, it seems to me, would be its power to prefigure and prepare for the new forms of transnational political, social, and economic life that are essential if the human family is to live in justice and peace. What are some forms that such concerted action might take? COuld we set an example by modifying our own budgets? Granted, there is a fundamental difference between a national budget and our own. We do not, happily, allocate funds for weapons of war. Nonetheless, we have our own funds for commmunity security and for personal and community goods beyond our basic needs. Are we not called to share these goods more liberally in our moment in history? In the early seventh century, pope St. Gregory the Great said, "Feed the man dying of hunger, for if you have not fed him you have killed him." The quotation found its way into Gaudium et Spes (Article 69). How would Saint Gregory apply that principle to our situation? We would miss a great opportunity, however, if we modified our com-munity budget in favor of children with shriveled limbs and swollen bellies, in favor of the 100,000 persons in Asia who go blind each year for lack of vitamin A, in favor of the malnourished of our own inner cities, and stopped there. We need to link our justified economy with the Eucharist. We could fast in solidarity with our poor brothers and sisters, who fast not by choice but by necessity. That fast could be in conscious preparation for our cele-bration of the Eucharist, the memorial of Christ's own giving of his Body and Blood to be our food. The money saved by fasting could be an exten-sion of our eucharistic celebration, our going together in peace to love and serve the Lord, the same Jesus who nourishes us, and who also hungers for us in his most distressing disguise. Religious and Social Justice / 167 If religious across the world joined together this way, we could antic-ipate our governments in creating the Great World Fund that Pope Paul was urging. We could use our experience to urge other societies to do the same--within religious life, from local community to province to generalate level; beyond our congregations from parish to diocese to na-tional conference. In all this we should remember the norm of Populorum Progressio, which echoes the constant tradition of the Church, that we are asked to share not only from our abundance, but even from our necessities. In this way we act in faith in our Father's providence, and we forge the bonds of loving solidarity with all members of our huma~ family. If Christians also learned to live this way, the climate would be prepared for moving our governments. Truth would indeed be speaking to power. We would experience a profound renewal of our eucharistic life, and our reli-gious life would know a new birth of deepest freedom in Christ Jesus, our Lord. It would, of course, be only a beginning of the ways in which we might celebrate our corporate life in the Lord. But ~iven the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the men and women of our time, it may be an indispensable beginning. Now Available As A Reprint The "Active-Contemplative' _ Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Psychotherapy: A Consideration of Its Potential and Limit Gillian Straker Doctor Straker teaches psychology at the University of the Witwatersrand in South Africa; she also has a private practice in therapy in the same city. Her address at the university is Jan Smuts Ave.; Johannesburg, South Africa. The purpose of this article is to outline the basic philosophies underlying some of the more popular psychotherapies currently in vogue. Its intention is to assist religious who have been, are, or will be in therapy to come to a more realistic evaluation of the potential and limits of psychotherapy as a facilitator of growth. Given that psychological and spiritual growth are interconnected, it is the thesis of this paper that psychotherapy can be a useful tool--provided its limits are clearly perceived by both the client and the therapist. This involves a realization by both that,while psychological and spiritual growth are related, they are not synonymous. Furthermore, psychotherapy should never be regarded as autonomous in its own right but should rather be seen as a possible means to certain goals. In the case of the religious, these goals have been set a priori. It is not the function of the therapist to attempt to alter theseends/goals or to provide alternative philosophies of life. A religious in therapy who feels that the therapist is more involved in trying to get him to alter his goals than in exploring reasons for his diffi-culties in achieving these goals, should consider terminating treatment and seeking help elsewhere. A therapist who attempts to change goals when a client has indicated a commitment to them, or who subtly devalues these goals by continually trying to explain them away in psychological terms, is 168 Psychotherapy: Its Potential and Limit / 169 indicating not only a lack of awareness of the boundaries of his area of expertise but also an unawareness of his personal limits. It should be clearly recognized that such a therapist is, in a sense, guilty of malpractice and it is such misuse of the practice of psychotherapy which should be con-demned rather than the practice itself. Having drawn the limits applicable to all therapies, it might now be of value to examine some specific therapies in more depth. As has been indicated, it is the personality and personal attributes of the individual therapist which play the most vital role in determining not only the direction of therapy, but also its success or failure. The school to which a therapist belongs is a very important factor, as his allegiance reflects something of his personal ideals and values. A recent survey in America revealed that at present there are more than one hundred and forty different kinds of psychotherapy actually being practiced.~ However, these types of therapy can quite conveniently be categorized under three main headings, viz., the psychoanalytically, be-haviorally, and experientially oriented approaches to psychotherapy. Each of these three schools has a different view of man, which then dictates its psychotherapeutic techniques. The psychoanalytic view subscribes to the idea that man is a victim of turbulent inner forces from the power of which he continually struggles to be set free. In the Freudian view, these inner forces are largely sexual in nature; but later analysts felt that these inner forces were not only sexual but reflected, for example, a will to power, or a will to superiority. In terms of this view man is seen as fraught with inner and unknown urgings and contradictory pulls. He is subject to, and resists against, a reservoir of impulses which are largely inaccessible to the conscious self. He thus is troubled by behaviors and symptoms which he often cannot understand himself and which seem resistant to control by a conscious act of will. The aim, therefore, of psychoanalytically oriented therapy is to give the individual insight into the forces against which he is battling, so as to help him gain more control over his behavior and to enable him to give expression to these forces in a more socially acceptable way. I do not think religious would dissent much with these stated goals. The idea of gaining insight into motives and trying to express impulses in more acceptable ways would probably accord well with the outlook of religious. The.re are some pitfalls however, as there is a tendency among psychoana-lysts to explain all behavior including e.g., a belief in God, as being merely an expression of repressed impulses. A further difficulty which the psychoanalytic approach might pose for religious is in terms of method. In order to encourage the expression of feelings by the individual, so as to facilitate an awareness of desires and ~Parloff, H., Twenty-five Years of Research in Psychotherapy, New York, Albert Einstein College of Medicine, October, 1975. "170 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 needs which have blocked his emotional life, the analyst creates an environ-ment of almost total permissiveness. Such a process which is essential in the analytic situation is surely disastrous as a way of life. Psychoanalytic principles, by their very nature, cannot relate to morality or define limits for permissiveness. Thus, if the client or the therapist perceives that this kind of therapy is to become a life-style, a modus vivendi, the end-point will be an overvaluing of the mind and the expression of emotion, and a failure to move beyond the emotional blocks once they have been uncovered. Nevertheless the value of the psychoanalytically oriented therapies in uncovering these emotional blocks should not be ignored. These therapies are specifically geared for this. Once the blocks have been uncovered, the individual should become free to work through and beyond them in what-ever framework he has chosen for himself. For the religious, Christianity would obviously be his framework, and it is within this that he would continue to work from where the therapy had left off. We turn now to the second major school of psychotherapy, viz., the behavioral school. This school does not see behavior as determined by internal conflicts but rather sees all behavior, both normal and abnormal, as a product of what man has learned. Behavior consists of learned habits reinforced either by the self or by the environment. Thus therapy consists of teaching the individual alternative modes of behavior which have to be practiced both inside and outside of the therapy situation. This school of therapy probably holds the least potential danger for the religious since it deals mainly with overt behavior and de-emphasizes affective issues. This school does not primarily concern itself either with issues concerning in-ternal motivations or with questions concerning ideals and values. However, this very defocusing from self-exploration which diminishes this approach's potential danger is also, in my view, the factor which limits its potential as a facilitator of growth. In addition, the view of man which underlies the behaviorist approach is a deterministic one. As such, it is opposed to the Catholic idea of free choice. Man is primarily seen as a product of his environment, in this de-emphasis on man's capacity for choice, the behaviorists are similar to the analysts, although they differ from one another in the reasons they give to justify this. Nevertheless if the referring problem of the religious is a specific and definite symptom such as a phobia, rather than something less definite, such as generalized interper-sonal difficulties, the behaviorist approach might be the treatment of choice because of its concern with discrete symptoms and overt behavior-patterns. The final main school of. psychotherapy which calls for our present attention is the experiential school. Of the three schools of psychotherapy discussed here, this is the one which in some sense comes closest to the ideals proffered by Christianity. But again, in some regards it is the most dangerous school within which the religious would seek help. Experiential-ists reject the view that man is predominantly passive, subservient to the Psychotherapy: Its Potential and Limit / 171 less conscious aspects of himself, or to the stimuli in his environment. The experientialists criticize the psychoanalysts and behaviorists for their com-mitment to science, and for their underplaying of man's ethical dimension, his will, choices and moral relations to others. This emphasis on man's personal responsibility is what leads the experientialist to seem most sym-pathetic to the religious. However, given that man is considered responsi-ble by the experientialists, the ihamediate question which comes to mind is: "Responsible to whom and responsible for what?" It is at this point that there would probably be some divergence in thought. On the whole the experientialists see man as responsible to himself for the actualization of his potential. This leaves unanswered the question of when one man's freedom becomes another's bondage. However, in partial answer to this vexing dilemma most of the experientialists put forward the view that man is basically good and thus actualization will always involve actualization to the good for himself and others. This is an assumption which lacks full support. Nevertheless, some of the intermediate goals of certain experientialists would not conflict with Christian ideas. Helping the individual to relate in a "meaningful way" is one such goal which the experientialists have. They define a fulfilling relationship as one in which the individuals have come to terms with the paradoxical nature of love, in which love and power are not opposed but complementary. In this kind of love "we find ourselves at our strongest and most powerful when we are able to transcend ourselves in communion with another.''2 This notion of love involving selflessness would accord with the Christian ideal. Similarly congruent is the idea that we are "less-than-perfect creatures who need to live with ourselves as we are, while still attempting to grow toward an unattainable vision.'''~ In terms of this it is the aim of the experientialist not merely to heal illness but to promote growth. However, many experientialists hold an implicit assumption which would conflict with views held by his religious client. This assumption is that man himself, as an autonomous being, has within himself the capacity to bring about his own actualization to good. There is no acceptance of the idea that man cannot bring about his own salvation. There is a belief that man himself can, via various methodologies, aimed at the promotion of dimensions such as self-determination, authen-ticity and creativity, bring about an ultimate integration of his body, mind and soul. It is from this idea that the basic divergence between the experien-tialists and the religious comes. The former believes himself to be respon-sible to himself and at times to society. There is no higher authority than himself, and he is capable of bringing about his own integration. This is totally opposed to the idea of the religious concerning man's dependence on 2Forish, B. "Fulfilling Relationships: The Vision and Reality," J. Humanistic Psychology, V. 18, No. i, Winter, 1978. 31bid. 172 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 God for the integrating gift of grace and salvation. In terms of methodology, this school has hazards because, in its thera-peutic approach more than any other, the personal attributes of the thera-pist are of paramount importance. This is because, on the whole, experien-tial schools renounce specific techniques as part of their understanding of human existence. The therapist is, for the most part, discouraged from applying techniques, although, in some of the more radical branches of this school, nonverbal techniques are used as a means of helping the individual to get in touch with his feelings. Generally, though, therapy is assumed to occur naturally if the therapist can, as far as possible, share the being and experience of the client. It is the mutual encounter between therapist and patient in which both attempt to communicate honestly with one another which is seen as the sine qua non of growth. The experiential therapist, therefore, does not have a contract with the client other than to interact as honestly as he can. Thus the therapist, in his own person, is the primary tool for change. Experientialists are probably correct in stating this and making their assumptions explicit. This means though, that a client entering into this kind of therapy must be aware that what he is contracting for is to be exposed to the person of the therapist. Thus the client must evaluate more than ever whether he has confidence in the therapist as a person, not primarily as a psychologist or trained expert who has something to offer. If the answer to this is negative, then it is best not to enter into the contract of such a relationship. If the answer is affirmative, this school could offer something very positive because its therapists are committed to being honest, making their own values, beliefs and assumptions explicit in a way which the psychoanalysts, for example, are not. Thus, in psychoanalysis, the influence of the values of the therapist are much more subtle, and therefore difficult to deal with. However, in some ways this disclosure of values is less important in a psychoanalytic situation because the goals of the approach are limited to freeing the individual from repression rather than the more extended goal of the experientialists to promote a "higher level of consciousness.''4 Of course it is for the individual religious to °decide what it is he wants from therapy. In my view, though, for the religious, therapy should perhaps end at the point of freeing the individual from his blocks, since religious should have available to him other and better means than therapy to promote growth. Nevertheless therapy can be extremely valuable as a means of putting the individual in touch with his emotional difficulties, as well as the needs and motives which may be controlling his behavior. Therapy can assist the individual in working through these, and, since working through things is surely a prelude to working beyond them, it would seem that therapy can indeed be a useful tool, provided both client and therapist clearly acknowledge its limits. 4Maslow, A. The Farther Reaches of Human Nature. New York: Viking, 1971. Resentment William F. Kraft Dr. Kraft is well known to our readers. His last article, "Nothingness and Spiritual Growth" appeared in the November, 1978 issue. He is professor of psychology at Carlow College; 3333 Fifth Ave.: Pittsburgh, PA 15213. I admit that I'm bitter. I resent the way she treated me. Just to see her irritates me. What really galls me is that she behaves as though nothing ever happened! It's like there's nothing wrong with her--the whole fault is mine. ! resent her for that. Sure, I have to admit that she really did help me. When l first met Sister, I was timid and shy, never really sharing with anyone. She listened, and encouraged m~i to give of myself. I guess i have to thank her for that. But when i really started to open up, and asked her to reciprocate, suddenly she seemed to become distant, not at all friendly as she once was. i asked her a couple of times what was wrong, and all she said was, "Nothing." I guess what I'm saying is that when i was lower and she was higher, things went well. But when we became more equal, our relationship changed. ! resent that. I don't like the way I feel. Even when I just think of her or hear about her, I get these strong feelings, l realize that they aren't doing me any good, but that's the way I feel. l just can't push a button to stop these feelings. I'd like to love. It would make life a lot easier. I'd like to forgive, and not feel the way I do. And I don't like hurting her, besides hurting myself, with this psychological cancer. But how do 1 stop feeling this way? Resentment is an experience that is completely foreign to very few peo-ple. We know that it is an intense, unpleasant feeling that can alienate even close friends, even brothers and sisters. Few, if any people, enjoy feeling resentful. But it happens all too often. We would rather be in love than at odds with one another; But things just don't work out that way. 173 174 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 Still, love and resentment need not necessarily be mutually exclusive. Though resentment can be destructive and negative, it can also be positive. For example, I can resent your lying to me. I can resent your attempts at manipulating and scandalizing me. I may validly resent your rank-pulling behavior that violates my dignity. But we seldom think of resentment in terms of its being positive. Along with looking at experiences and theories of resentment, a clue to the meaning of resentment lies in its etymology: "to feel again." One of the peculiar features of resentment is that it is a feeling that we hang on to--or perhaps it hangs onto us. It is as though we are in a state of constant edginess, just waiting to be "triggered off." We also see that resentment is similar to anger and hostility, at least in the form of being aggressive and disapproving. In a sense, resentment points to a "no" that will not go away. Resentment is intense and highly personal. Rather than being oriented toward a peripheral or passing experi-ence, resentment tends to center around important values and especially around our own dignity. Resentment is persistent in that it tends to remain fixed. It is always "there" as a kind of warning. It also involves an indignant stand that protests insults or unjust acts that violate or threaten me. Finally, resent-ment incorporates disapproval--a "no" that proclaims that I will not con-done or sanction such action. Resentment involves an affective judgment that attempts to reclaim, maintain, or proclaim my worth. Thus, resentment refers to holding on to a feeling which serves as a warning to stop indignant treatment. In resentment, I say that I will never tolerate, accept, or condone such behavior. I say: "If you act this way, I'm ready for you." Resentment is a constant readiness to defend, protect, and protest. In light of this description, it is important to make the distinction be-tween the experience or feeling of resentment and what constitutes resent-ful behavior. How 1 behave or act on my resentful feelings is much more within my will than how I feel. The ideal is to listen to feelings of resentment so that I can act in a positive way. Let us first examine resentment in its positive form. Positive Resentment Positive resentment is a protest against a violation of my dignity. When my worth as a person, including who and what 1 hold most sacred, is violated, I have the responsibility and the duty to feel resentment; other-wise, 1 become less, or settle for less, than 1 really am. Not only am I insulted but also 1 insult myself. Furthermore, it is not fair to let others violate my dignity because ! am letting them be less than they are. Thus, my readiness to respond in indignant disapproval is a way of maintaining and promoting my own dignity and evoking the dignity of others. Resentment / 175 For example, people who pull rank on me, try to make me les's than l am, and make themselves more than they really are. My resentment can be in service of the truth that we should be (and ontologically are) brothers and sisters together rather than on different planes or in different worlds. My vigilant'and steadfast "No" to such manipulation can be a form of healthy resentment. I resent being used as a thing because I am infinitely more than that. We should feel resentful for being treated as second-class citizens. So, a woman should deeply resent sexist treatment because she is used and being treated as less than she really is. Being treated unjustly can also evoke resentment. For instance, a sister may feel resentment because she is always the one told to have phone duty or because she feels she is never appreciated. Unfortunately, a sister espe-cially if she is middle-aged may feel guilty over such reactions of resent-ment. Actually, the sister should "listen" to her resentment as a means of maintaining and proclaiming her dignity and as a gift that may motivate her to seek to change the situation. I should feel resentment if ! am used as the community scapegoat, always made fun of, only seen as a workhorse. My resentment clearly says that when you treat me as less than 1 am, you are not going to get away with it. 1 am going to protest, 1 am going to try to change the situation. I am going to manifest myself as more than you see. Healthy resentment, which it can be paradoxically called, is primarily a function of love. It emerges out of and is an expression of love more than of hostility or hate. In positive or healthy resentment, my intention is not to get even, to hurt, or to lower the other. My intention is to manifest and deepen my own dignity and the dignity of the other. In fact to condone behavior that violates my dignity is what would not be healthy. Indeed, 1 can accept and even understand people's acts of aggression, their insulting me, being unjust to me, exploiting or manipulating me. But I neither have to, nor should !, condone their mad behavior. Along with and sometimes beyond these purely psychological ap-proaches, I can also choose to act in a directly spiritual way. In fact, rather than being a matter of "intellectual gymnastics" or mere theological rhetoric, the spiritual resolution of resentment can also be clinically opera-tive. For example, if 1 am a ~:ommunity scapegoat who is manipulated and used unjustly, I should try to determine whether and how I may myself be responsible. I can ask myself, for instance, if ! have an unconscious need to be exploited, or if I have a compulsion to please. But even if I fail to cope healthily with my area of responsibility, or if I am psychologically naive, 1 can still transcend the experience spiritually. Experientially and behaviorally I can identity with Jesus Christ--the Supreme Scapegoat. Such an approach to transcendence need not be a sentimental, saccharine basking in pseudo-spirituality. 1 can actually dif-fuse and dissolve m.y resentment when its grounds are accepted (not wanted masochistically) in Christ. For instance, regardless of, and beyond, 176 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 psychological analysis, I can foster a "crucified love." In the Spirit of our Lord, I can choose to act on the grace which enables me to suffer for the welfare of those who persecute me. This is not pietistic masochism, suffer-ing for my own sake under the guise of love, but rather it is becoming a disciple of Christ. How realistically possible and frequent such a spiritual approach is for most of us is another issue. But it is possible to strive to practice the message of the Cross that redeems and heals. Negative Resentment Instead of emerging out of and in the service of love, negative resent-ment is fixated, closed, and retaliatory. In negative resentment, I try to hurt, to lower the other. My persistence is fixated rather than cieative. It is destructive rather than self-creative, selfish rather than life-giving, closed rather than open, hindering rather than helping. In negative resentment, 1 simply will not or cannot "let go." You--the resented one--haunt me so much that at times 1 feel that 1 would want you dead so that you can no longer hurt me. At least, I would like to cripple or lower you to the state of being powerless. I want to even the score. Such retaliatory fixation cuts offany future, it identifies you with the past. Rather than being open to new possibilities, 1 tend to identify you with what hurts me. To be sure, I feel indignant: my dignity has been hurt. But instead of responding creatively out of love, l try to make you hurt worse than I. 1 try to get the better of you so that 1 can control and manipulate you. l try to make you become less worthy than I feel. Of course, in trying to pull you down, ! lose my own dignity rather than gain it. My disapproval can too easily turn to hate or hostility. At the very minimum my intention is to make you powerless and me more powerful, and then maybe you will come to me for help. Actually, I am trying to make myself bigger and higher precisely because I feel smaller and lower. In making you helpless, I have the illusion of being higher, more powerful, and more valuable. Clearly negative resentment violates and can even destroy community. It fractures, fragments, and fixates the community. Rather than growing together in love, which can include some positive resentment, we hurt and alienate one another. Still, there is some sense in the apparent nonsense of negative resentment. Let us look at some of the more common reasons for negative resentment. Psychological transference can be a dynamic which produces negative resentment. For instance, I may resent my parents, perhaps for good rea-son, but then I transfer my feelings or displace them onto other authority figures. Though 1 may feel and behave well in most areas, I find myself resentful toward authorities, though I can find no particular reason to feel resentful. I have to realize that my resentment may be rooted primarily in the past rather than in the present. Resentment / 177 Similarly, if 1 am in a position of authority by virtue of my function as a superior, teacher or whatever, I may be confused and hurt with peo-ple who resent me. I sincerely feel that such people may resent me not primarily for what I am doing or even for who I am, but because I evoke past unresolved feelings that are now transferred or "dumped" on me. Of course, I have to discern honestly whether I have my own authority problems that evoke positive resentment that may or may not be com-pounded and blurred with transference. "Divinizing" can easily lead to negative resentment. When I divinize you (a friend, parent, or authority figure), I put you on a pedestal. 1 look up to you and expect you to be perfect. Perhaps you meet my expectation, or at least try to be perfect for me. But when you begin to show your imper-fections, 1 may feel cheated and hurt. Then, instead of divinizing you, I demonize you. Feeling let down, I angrily pull you off your celestial pedestal (of my own making) and perhaps put you in hell. To be freed from such a resentful bind, to be free for a forgiving love, it will help if I can discern why 1 initially had the need to divinize you. Did I humanly but foolishly become too dependent on you for affirmation and support? Why did 1 make you a god when actually you are essentially the same as I? Did I, and do I, sell myself short? Why do 1 need you either in heaven or hell rather than where you really are---on earth? Poor self-esteem and consequent insecurity is a frequent cause of resentment. For whatever reasons (which can be rooted in the first few years of life), I can too easily be insulted, lowered or threatened. Conse-quently I may feel compelled to have a divine love which will never hurt or let me down. Or, from another direction, I put you down in the futile attempt to raise myself; in short, my worth eventually comes from making you feel and look bad, at least in my eyes. In such a situation, I may not only resent what you did but also and perhaps more radically who you are. Your very being threatens me so much that 1 resent you just for being. It is not rare to place too much of one's self-worth in another. If I am too dependent on you, 1 can resent you when you hurt me. And if you deliberately and willfully hurt me, I should resent you. But if you hurt me because of your imperfections or limits, or because of some painful truth, my resentment may be only negative. Then, I can no longer face or trust you. I cannot "let go" and forgive, because my heart is broken. I am afraid I will be "wiped out." I am fearful of losing my dignity and sense of life. Resentment can also emerge out of and be combined with jealousy. In jealousy I feel compelled to minimize the worth of a third person because he or she threatens me; that is, the presence of the other means that I may lose your love and therefore my dignity. Too much of my security depends on our relationship and on your affirmation of me. Or, if our friendship ends, 1 may resent you for years, becoming embittered. Instead of being my friend, you are my enemy. Though losing a friendship usually is painful, too 171~ /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 much of my dignity had been dependent on our friendship. My resentment is a desperate attempt to maintain my dignity, but also a defense against my insecurity and lack of self-affirmation. Resentment can also be a way of controlling you so that the you will not hurt or humiliate me again. My resentment puts you on edge. It keeps you wary and at a distance. Though it is understandable that I do not want to be hurt, my resentful behavior cannot be justified. Ideally, 1 should not try to hurt you because you hurt me. Rather than manipulating you, I should strive to give you the freedom to emerge. Arrogance, too, can be at the root of resentment. When I am arrogant, I blow myself up out of proportion. I claim higher rank, greater dignity or more power than I really have. In arrogance I am likely to feel that 1 know better than others, that I am always right. So when you criticize, disagree, or threaten me, I may resent you as a way of affirming my arrogant self-concept and as a way of lowering and controlling you. When you do not give me homage, I resent you. In effect 1 say: "How dare you act this way to me. Don't you know that 1 am better than you are? I am too good for such treatment, and therefore 1 will make you pay for it." Different life-styles can be a threat to my worth. If I am so insecure that I need other people to affirm my ways of living and consequently cannot be open to their other ways, I can easily feel resentment. When I am insecure about my own way, other ways intimidate me, evoking resentment. For instance, if my life depends on watching or not watching television, people who are bored by television may evoke resentment. Or if my life depends exclusively on certain kinds of prayer, other modalities may evoke resent-ment in me. Ideally, I should be open to many kinds of activities or prayer, though I do not have to agree with, condone, or follow them. In the same way, if people force or embarrass me into doing "their thing," perhaps I should feel justified resentment. For instance, some people may uncon-sciously resent my "old-fashioned" ways and try to make me feel guilty for not following their "modern" methods. Of course, the opposite is also possible. How to I-leip The starting point of helping others is to help oneself. When you mani-fest resentment toward me, first I must try to understand myself. I must discern whether I have anything to do with causing your resentful feelings. For example, did I unconsciously encourage you to put me on a pedestal, or be too dependent on me? Did I think to try to fulfill the role and expec-tation of being perfect? Was I subtlely arrogant in my desire to be helpful? Did I imply that I was '~the way, the truth and the life"? After taking stock of myself, then I can begin to help you take stock of yourself. In feeling your resentment, I should not try to retaliate with bitterness, hostility, or withdrawal. Though withdrawal out of love may sometimes be Resentment / 179 necessary, withdrawal should not be a form of passive hostility, perhaps taking the form of the "ice water treatment." Thus, when feeling the fire of resentment, I should try not to burn in return. Ideally, I should be available in love. I should try to understand and appreciate your reasons for being resentful. When I can make sense of such apparent nonsense, I can help you affirm your true source of dignity. Though important, reasons and words are secondary to seeing and responding to your dignity no matter what you are doing. Rather than being overwhelmed with resentment and returning the hurt, the challenge is to affirm your dignity through your hostility and hate. No matter what, I can always "be for you" in love. The way I might confront you is primarily a function of our relationship. When confronting another, I must be willing and able to take the time, energy, and responsibility for the consequences. It is usually unfair and poor "pop" psychology to express feelings "honestly and sincerely" or to expose another's psychic nerve endings without working through, perhaps for weeks or months, what occurred and will emerge. To confront irrespon-sibly can justly evoke positive resentment. A primary goal is to forgive. Forgiving includes "letting go," allowing ourselves to become more than resentful. Forgiveness also points to a giving that is always there no matter what; I am always there for you regardless of how you or I feel. And, I can and should forgive myself. I cannot always immediately forgive, so that, at times, I may have to forgive my own lack of forgiveness. Forgiveness does not simply mean to forget. Indeed, forgetting may be unjust to both of us. Forgetting our resentment, for example, can decrease opportunities to learn fi'om our obstacles and increase the likelihood of being caught again in the same trap. But, forgiveness does mean not bearing a grudge or identifying you with your faults. My la(k of forgiveness often is a way of controlling and fixating you and myself. Whatever the reason, at base I cannot forgive because forgiveness makes us equally sinners struggling in love. Though I may have been hurt justly or unjustly, it is good to keep perspective and tO experience you as really more than just a hurting person. Even if you are evil, it is highly doubtful that your entire personhood and life are negative. More likely, you stand on the same ground as I do and are much more similar to, than different from, me. To abstain from identifying you with one of your functions or qualities helps to keep perspective and to foster a forgiving and compassionate stand. To be resentful in love is a saving grace. Though seldom can I determine completely the way I feel, I can be vigilant in staying in love. In love, I can embrace all of myself and you. Love heals our wounded and broken lives. Even though we may feel bitter, love allows and encourages us to see more than is apparently there. In love, we get a glimpse of what can be---of the Kingdom already begun on earth. The Stage of the Hidden Spring Carol Jean Vale, S.S.J. Sister Carol teaches English at Delone Catholic High School. She resides at St. Joseph Academy; Main St.; McSherrystown, PA 17344. What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well . ~ We stand today at a crossroad in the passage of time. Vatican II altered the course of the modern Church and, in so doing, changed the direction of all responsible Christian lives. The council demanded that all renew them-selves and, in conjunction with this dictum, many of our general chapters have mandated for us a real participation in renewal; certainly for the dedicated religious no option exists. Refusal to renew is tantamount to a direct refusal to correspond to the will of God. Such a renewal demands a radical conversion to the person of Jesus. It is a call to a unique type of selflessness and self-emptying. The twentieth century is starved for men and women who express by their lives the truth of the message they proclaim. Such a correlation between spoken word and lived reality comes within the realm of possibility only when Christ touches the human heart and turns it completely toward himself. Vatican II has asked us all to undergo such a spiritual revolution. In- .deed, Jesus came to preach a revolution; a revolution not of social values or political ideologies, nor of.scientific values or economic policies. The 1Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1943), p. 75. 180 The State of the Hidden Spring Lord came to effect the most radical revolution possible; to overthrow and free the heart of each person who would ever embark upon the adventure of living.2 To show us a Father's love, to make us new in that love, to recreate us in our real image is the reason for his coming. Difficulties will continue to arise in the pursuit of renewal. Being made fresh involves grinding down the rough edges of personalities, scraping clean the tartared remnants of sin, scooping out our full abundance of selfishness. It means allowing Christ to polish us until we shine as precious stones. "I will lure her out into the wilderness and speak to her heart" (Ho 2:14). That is precisely what Jesus wishes to do to each of us--take us with him to a desert place and there speak a new word known only toour hearts: a word that transforms self-consciousness into other-consciousness, a word that magnifies and evokes all our latent potentialities, a word that enkindles a fire capable of warming another's heart. Interior renewal is difficult because it asks that we journey into this desert with Christ and there face ourselves. This tryst heralds many significant repercussions. Although the Lord leads us as solitaries into the wilderness, he takes us there not for ourselves alone. The desert remains a proving ground, a training camp where we prepare and are prepared for others. Nothing is ever given for the self alone, but rather to be shared so that others might eat, be nourished, be healed, and in turn give to yet others from their new abundance. Our m6st intimate moments alone with the Lord reverberate with worldwide significance. We stand alone before God, but in God we stand together. I am at once by myself and yet a multitude, a solitary yet an assembly, an individual yet a community. I am; we are. We live in relationship, and there exists no exit where we can escape this fact. We are one in Jesus with one another. The desert teaches this fact undeniably. To meet Jesus Christ is to meet our fellow men and women. Success in the apostolate will be in direct proportion to our living out of this desert experience. In the desert, our praye~" life soars to new depths of intimacy with the Lord. A person can be transformed in minutes when touched by someone alive with Jesus. Without him, we can talk for a lifetime, spend human energy, use every gimmick available, and change no one. He alone can give the increase; and he works through us only in the measure to which he first is living within us. The world in which we live thirsts for prayerful men and women. It hungers for a transformation powered by the dynamic of understanding love, reverent gentleness, and uncompromised integrity. It starves for peo-ple who are committed to ideals and values that remain despite the fluctuations of time. Today's world craves persons who possess the power of the Spirit, for only this power turns hearts of stone into those of flesh. zCarlo Carretto, The God Who Comes (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1974), p. 143. 11~2 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 Until new growth in the Spirit happens, until more of us grow into living enfleshments of Jesus and bid others do the same, there will be no peace; rather fear and hatred will continue to wreak their havoc on humankind. The religious person must combat the apathy, the hatred, and the cruelty of our times. We are summoned to be countercultural, different, to proclaim the values of the Gospel--values that never have been, are not now, and never will be popular. Christianity means the cross. The Resur-rection and Crucifixion may never be divorced. In America especially, the concept of an "Alleluia People" is being misconstrued to perpetuate a cross-less Christianity. Yet our joy is only as deep as the depth of the pain we have suffered. Suffering prepares the soil of our deepest persons for a harvest of joy. Suffering well-embraced, builds, not breaks the human spirit. Jesus is calling us now to suffer and to die with him. We are being graced as instruments for the redemption of the modern world. Redemption costs bloodbsometimes our own blood. The future demands of us the courage to pay such a price. With these thoughts in mind, then, let us ask why it is that, after more than a decade, religious communities are still struggling internally with the problem of renewal. If we believe in those concepts, what is it that still holds us back from becoming truly renewed? Perhaps the difficulty can be recognized as possessing two very interrelated dimensions. First, there exists the challenge of aiding those religious who seem totally incapable of bridging the gap between past and present. Second, there is the often unrecognized problem of the religious, who though in step with the changed pace of the Church, is still not manifestly credible or visibly authentic in his life's reflection of this change. These two types of persons responding tO the renewal effort generate confusion and uncertainty for all involved. Further-more, the latter, living a seemingly unauthentic response to the call of Vatican II, inadvertently perpetrates a negative response to renewal. This outward lack of credibility on the part of the ostensibly renewed is indeed at the core of the renewal problem today. Multitudes of words have been written concerning the first type of religious; therefore, let us concentrate for a brief space on those religious who have embraced the call of the Vatican Council to renew. Could it be that this renewal has been stalled or slowed because of the way it has been introduced and conducted'? Do those who are fearful of change see in the renewed religious a person of Christ-like depth? This is perhaps the central question that must be asked. If the religious does not first possess a heart converted to warm, compassionate love, to gentle, untiring presence, and to tender, forgiving concern, others will not see in him a model worthy of imitation. From the very beginning of renewal, there has been a firm distinc-tion between renewal and adaptation of life-style. This writer suggests, that while there has been much adaptation, there is still lacking a great deal of visible renewal. Yet this is th~ case through no one's conscious fault. The State of the Hidden Spring / 1 !13 Renewal is a basic conversion experience and lies at the very core of the Christian message. Metanoia comes as a gift from the Lord and cannot be earned or merited. It takes a long time to change a heart, and a longer time for that change to evidence itself in the behavioral patterns of an indi-vidual's day-to-day life. So much of human development and growth occurs in the dark, in the unseeable recesses of the inner heart. The journey from seed to even a small shoot is a long and arduous ascent. Frequently, this maturation process is hidden even from the person engaged in it. Only the gnawing hunger and unquenchable thirst for the ideal hint at the unfolding life within. In our journey on the road c~f renewal, we have come but a brief dis-tance. Often there exists a real gap between what we are saying and believ-ing and proclaiming and how we are living and loving and being. This is not because the renewal is not real, but rather because so much of the growth it has birthed is as yet invisible to the naked eye. The outward changes and adaptations manifest themselves in a visible form readily apparent to the most unperceiving human eye. However, it is much easier to take off a habit, change apostolates, and alter structures than it is to allow one's heart to be made flesh, to put on Jesus Christ, to become an empty vessel of the Spirit's fashioning. The former changes require weeks or months, the latter, years of even the space of a lifetime. Inner change and growth hide in the deepest chambers of the human person and grow ever so slowly to the light, while the outward adaptations flourish in the light and yet, paradoxically, must grow slowly inward to be understood and espoused by a heart-in-process- of-transformation. Adaptation and renewal must converge at some point within the center of the heart and there mingle, coalesce and become lost one in the other. This union between inner belief and outward practice will empower and energize the religious to live out in an ever fuller manner the true message of Jesus as proclaimed by the Second Vatican Council. However, it must be remembered that at this time, this dynamic is still in process of becoming a reality within the hearts of many religious. Perhaps such facts as these will help those fearful of renewal to under-stand why there is so often a disparity between the real and the ideal. Because of this dichotomy, the renewed religious must strive consciously and persistently to overcome such disparities, to be more loving in the face of a frustration that is but a fear of a dreaded unknown. Those who are fighting renewal are basically good, holy men and women. Fear and insecur-ity often cause them to be powerless .before a resistance within them that they cannot stem or control. All that they have known, loved and worked for seems to be in jeopardy of being eradicated permanently and without an understandable cause. Often they feel crushed or useless, weighed down by a burden too heavy for them to lift alone. Such anxiety can be assuaged only where there is selfless, warm, compassionate, sacrificial love. Those who are freer to be less fearful must also be freer to die in all those 11~4 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 ways that are not vital to the renewal. This dying includes taking the time to listen to the fears and anxieties of others without trying to force new ideas upon them before they have been allowed to know that they have been understood where they are. It is incredible how a listener changes when he finally begins to understand exactly how another feels and why he feels that way. Such a listener becomes more reverent and accepting of the pain and fear that choke someone into inaction or even active resistance. This dying means being willing to taste the pain of another's heart and to truly let that experience sink into and permeate one's entire being. It means compromising whenever and wherever possible no matter what the cost to self. It means going the extra milel giving away also the tunic, and turning the other cheek. It means loving with the whole of one's self---open, exposed, vulnerable, and weak. It means being so renewed that others will yearn to share the vision that draws such a religious on to ever greater heights of faith-lived love. Those who harbor a fear of the present and a dread of the future can be put at ease only by a person very much at home with his own weaknesses and failings, a person who is willing to share his own fears and dreads, a person who is not threatened by a truth different from his own. At the present many of those who are fearful of renewal are unable to reach out even halfway to the renewal effort. Therefore, the demand is often doubly difficult because time and time again, the renewed religious must be willing to go the whole distance. Yet, if we are willing to do this, we will gradually find that the miles are fewer and those with whom we are meeting, more willing to communicate. Perhaps the demand of renewal at present is to listen with a loving heart, say little, but be by one's presence a witness of all that is best in renewal. Those who question renewal must remember what was mentioned earlier--that growth is slow and that it takes many years for it to evidence itself. Renewal is yet young, and so there is often little outward manifesta-tion of transformation. This does not mean that growth is not there, but just that there has not been enough time for it to become visible. Patience becomes a demand on everyone's part. It must also be remembered that it is imperative to the future of religious life and to the future of our world that we accept.fully the challenge of the Council. If we do not, the twenty-first century will form itself without our aid. The result will.be destruction, if not physical,-then moral. Structures cannot be changed unless the hearts of those who build the structures are reformed and created new in Christ Jesus. These hearts will be touched only if we first let the Lord Jesus remold us into his image and likeness. Before we can affect anyone we must first renew ourselves. In community, we have one another as a source of strength and support for this renewal. Together we may begin to build new selves transformed in Christ. The very painful act of this growth to authenticity will be redemptive. To offer our The State of the Hidden Spring pain for the world is itselfa beginning of our participation in the redemption that our earth awaits. Our pain constitutes a saving difference. We are called to proclaim in our flesh the mystery of Jesus. We are summoned to give witness by our lives that true joy abounds when a person lives in relationship to the Lord. We are called to enable others to change, to be "Christ-ed." To baptize our earth in Jesus we must relinquish ourselves in "self" death. If we do not recognize this, if we do not allow Jesus to change us, then religious life itself will die; and with our death, who can even guess what other values will perish forever? For those fearful of all that this renewal asks because it seems to demand a break with the past, it is important to recall a few thoughts. The past is a part of us. We have imbibed, assimilated and integrated it into the reality of who we are. Our lives reflect the truth and vitality of all that has been as our present witness gives life to that reality in an ever-deepening dimension of being. Future seeds of life are at this moment being planted in us. Our past gives life to our present while our present nurtures all possibilities for the future. Indeed, the good of the past lives on in the present and creates the pattern for the future. All that we are and have been will continue to develop and mature into an ever fuller expression of the Person who we are as Church. Who we are will not change, but perhaps how we express who we are will be different. To stand at this crossroad--to live in a time of transition is both a curse and a blessing. It is a curse because of the tension and turmoil so innate to all change; yet a blessing because we are faced with the challenge of helping to make all things new in Christ. It is a blessing because the future rests in our hands and we are asked to shape it, mold it, form it into the reality that will meet the measure of tomorrow's need. At the moment, we move at a point of invisible growth. With regard to renewal we still must journey in the dryness of the desert, in the darkness of the night. A time of pain it is undeniably, but we have cause for a deep, resilient hope and a new, vibrant faith, for the path we tread is but "the stage of the hidden spring." One day the hidden water will gush freely and, at another moment in time, our thirst will be quenched with the vision of the beauty of the Church transformed. I will open up rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the broad valleys: I will turn the desert into a marshland, and the dry ground into springs of water. 1 will plant in the desert the cedar, acacia, myrtle, and olive; I will set in the wasteland the cypress, together with the plane tree and the pine, That all may see and know, observe and understand. That the hand of the Lord has done this, the Holy One of Israel has created it (Is 41:18-20). The Faith of Christ: Source of the Virtues of the Vows Vincent J. Genovesi, S.J. Father Genovesi is an Associate Professor of Theology at St. Joseph's University. He resides at St. Alphonsus House; 5800 Overbrook Ave.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Peace I bequeath to you, my own peace I give you, a peace the world cannot give, this is my gift to you (Jn 14:27). These words from Christ's farewell to us are unquestionably encouraging, but they are not the whole story. What is left unsaid but is necessarily implied here is this: "Peace is my challenge to you." I say this because peace, like any gift, must be received in order really to be a gift. To receive the peace of Christ, then, we are challenged to open ourselves to his life, we must struggle to be conformed to him, which means we must let Christ and his spirit take form within us. As Christians we have long known that salvation is not simply a matter of external obedience or of frenetic good works. No, salvation is a matter of life in and through Jesus Christ who frees us from the law, from sin and from everlasting death. Coming to life in Christ is, of course, more a welcoming of him and what he stands for into our lives and allowing the consequences to overflow into our actions, however surprising and costly this may prove to be. This is St. Paul's meaning in insisting that salvation lies in the "faith that expresses itself in love" (Ga 5:6). All the hope there is in Christians focuses here: that those who answer the Father's love with love will be raised up even as Christ has been, and they will be gifted with unending joy. If faith-inspired love, a personal, affirmative response to the 186 The Faith of Christ: Source of the Virtues of the Vows / 1117 Father's invitation to enter into his life, is the dynamic of Christian living, so also is it the impetus behind life in religion, and so also is it the wellspring of Christ's living and acting among us. What I suggest in this essay is that if religious wish to live the virtues of the vows we must be people first of living faith, for such was Christ. It was his total commitment to the Father, his unique life of faith, which freed Christ to such preeminent love that it serves always and everywhere as the ideal and inspiration for Christian life. More specifically, Christ's faith allowed and persuaded him to give a particular shape to his love for the Father and to his involvement in the Father's work. In other words, Christ's faith overflowed into a love that took on the contours of voluntary poverty, celibacy and radical obedience. What do these contours reveal of the inner life of Christ, and to what do they challenge those in religion? Poverty As we attend to the issue of poverty a basic truth must be initially affirmed: much of the world's poverty is slavery, the result of external oppression, an unconscionable demand made by some of God's children upon their own brothers and sisters. This kind of poverty is a human contrivance, a stubborn trace of a resilient inhumanity in the face of our Father's unalterable generosity. -We are focusing on another kind of poverty, however--one which is a matter of godly conviction and choice. This is the poverty of God himself in Christ who was born poor and who made himself poor for the sake of his Father's kingdom. It is also the poverty of those who wish to be poor in Christ, and the poverty of men and women who voluntarily accede to Christ'.s admonition: "If you wish to be perfect, go and sell what you own and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me" (Mt 19:21). What is the meaning of this kind of poverty that Christ himself assumes so that he does not hesitate to link the desire for perfection with the abandonment of earthly riches? Why is the choice of poverty met with the assurance of an eternal treasure?1 For some people there is no need to question what voluntary poverty means, nor is it necessary to know why Christ commits himself to such a life. The important truths are only that Christ freely lived poorly and that he invites others to do likewise. This mentality finds virtue in the imitation of Christ and his style of life without attending sufficiently, in my opinion, to the charge we have inherited: that we are to put on the mind and heart of Jesus Christ. While there is no propriety in criticizing the desire to be '~poor with Christ poor," I do believe that such grace-inspired ambition, left unexplored, allows much of the richness of chosen poverty, both in ~These reflections on poverty are a slightly revised and expanded version of my earlier article, "Christian Poverty: Sign of Faith and Redemptive Force," The Way, Supplement 32, (Autumn, 1977), pp. 78-82. "11~1~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 Christ and in his followers, to remain unappreciated, and much of this poverty's challenge to stand unmet. What, then, might be the meaning of the poverty into which Christ freely entered? Let it be said at once that Christ's entrance into poverty is central to his message and crucial to his mission; Christ's poverty is of the very fabric of his being. Although divine, yet he "did not cling to his equality with God but emptied himself to assume the condition of a slave, and became as men are" (Ph 2:6-7). Just as, in his incarnation, Christ truly divests himself of divine prerogatives, so, in his commitment to poverty, does he enter into a condition of worldly dispossession. In Christ, poverty is a continuation of the process of self-emptying and self-forgetfulness which began in his agreement to enflesh the word of his Father's promise to Israel. In entering into humanity among the poor of the earth, Christ prefigures and verifies a decision never to grasp after the things of the world. By embracing the poverty of Mary and Joseph, Christ gives flesh and human life to his faith in his heavenly Father, a faith which is so profound and so compelling that he comes to resist the temptation to establish and confirm his identity in anything but his Father's love. Having surrendered the privileges of divin-ity, Christ seeks no substitutes in the paraphernalia of wealth, power or social status. In his Father's love, Christ finds not only his strength to work, but also his freedom to forego the satisfaction of accumulating the products made available as a result of his labor. Christ's poverty, then, incarnates his personal openness to his Father's love and his trusting acceptance of his Father's plan of salvation. In choos-ing poverty, Christ in effect grounds and locates himself in the life of his Father, learning his love so that he can live and share it with others. Beyond this, Christ's entrance into poverty illuminates the inner disposition which must characterize all those who wish to be joined to the Father. Christ, freely poor, is the living sign to us of that faith which is necessary for salvation. He comes in poverty out of love so that we might know that salvation, precisely as the expression of the Father's love, is, like love, a gift that can never be earned but only earnestly desired, patiently sought and, in the end, gratefully received in handing self over to the Father in love and trust. Christ's decision for poverty is meant to deal the deathblow against the illusion that salvation is the reward of our labors, duly won; if self-righteousness reflects a deluded state of mind, no less does the attempt at self-sufficiency betray one's ignorance of life in the Father's love. The poverty of Christ is an inspir.ing challenge, for in anticipating a Messiah we would more likely have in mind a person of noble lineage or power, not a child so much, and certainly not a child of poor and unknown beginnings. Thus Christ's poverty tests us and encourages our response to a divine Father who uses his powerful love to surprise and confuse us, and to draw us to reliance more upon him than upon ourselves. The poor Christ calls us The Faith of Christ: Source of the Virtues of the Vows / 189 to recast radically our thoughts and ways, for these are not the Father's. False gods and self-reliance are equally ineffectual for salvation. Only the Father's prodigal love which we accept and cherish in living faith finally explains our entrance into the joy of his kingdom. And so, around Christ's poverty and the attitude it embodies is centered much of the new and startling truth of Christianity. For this poverty seems to be connected to the introduction of a new law (of love), a new salvation (by grace through faith), and a new kingdom (offered as a gift to be freely and actively received). Just as the poor of the earth are essentially power-less in the economic order, so are all people without effective power in the order of salvation. Had Christ come in riches we might find this truth even harder to accept than we presently do. As it is, Christ's free acceptance of poverty proclaims that there is everlasting life in opening ourselves up completely to the rich hopes and love of the Father for us. The poverty of Christ shouts out salvation not through economic security, not through political processes, not through military might, but only through the kind of creative, serving and healing love which gives body to our faith in the Father of us all who has so generously blessed us. Only when poverty expresses concretely our acceptance of the Father's presence, power and saving action is it truly a value to be lived, for only then does it keep alive the virtue of poverty which the incarnate Christ lived and valued. So far we have looked at Christ's poverty as a chosen style of life illuminating an interior disposition of that faith which is essential for human salvation. But there is also a prophetic dimension to Jesus' poverty, by means of which his life proves provocative to poor and rich alike. In addition, then, to telling us something of the kind of personal relationship Jesus enjoyed with his Father, his poverty is meant to be a redemptive force for the lives of others. Christ's poverty must be viewed within the context of his life-mission; he walked the earth as servant of all people in need of the gospel of redemption; his desire is that everyone--poor and rich--will hear his good news, do p.enance and believe. I would suggest, therefore, that in the lives of those who choose today to be poor for the sake of the kingdom, poverty ideally expresses not only their own open abandonment to the Father's love, but also their earnest desire to extend the redemptive concern of Christ for all people. These people choose poverty for the sake of the poor and of the rich. They assist the poor in a practical way by using their talents on behalf of the poor, or by surrendering their wealth to them, or employing ~t for their benefit. The poor are served in still another way, however, on the level of the spirit, for those who undertake to live Christian lives of poverty signify their faith in the Father and his kingdom. Because they know that this world and its standards are not ultimate and will not prevail, those who are religiously mQtivated to live poorly die to the world's way of measuring success; in this way their lives are transformed into shouts of exhortation to the poor not 190 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 to be blinded into seeing and desiring nothing beyond the satisfaction of material needs. But the gospel is not for the poor alone. The rich also need its life-offering. Thus for the rich, no less than for the poor, the lives of those who choose poverty must carry redemptive significance, and they can in two ways: first, by the example of a simple life-style and by an informed exposition of the Christian principles of social justice, those who are poor in Christ poor may encourage the advantaged of the earth to human respon-sibility; secondly, those who enter into Christian poverty may humbly serve as signs of admonition to those who are well-off-~whether they be consciously oppressive, mindlessly ravenous, or simply incautious in their material accumulations and expenditures--that their lives must be tem-pered by God's perspectives lest they be charged with unjust stewardship and their laughter turn to tears because they will know only the happiness which they wrench from this earth, but not the happiness which is our Father's gift. Anyone who wants to enter into poverty with the spirit of Christ must know that the Father's desire is for universal salvation. The only important thing is that the conditions of possibility be provided by means of which all people--poor and rich--may be freed and encouraged to enter into the good life of God. All people need to be reminded that the deepest value of material welfare lies in its being a prelude to the welfare of the human spirit. Choosing poverty with Christ poor must involve, therefore, a concern not only for the material and spiritual welfare of the poor but also, and equally, for the spiritual welfare of the rich. There is always a danger that those who wish to be poor in Christ will become myopic and unchristian, that they will grow preoccupied with enhancing the material welfare of the poor, wresting wealth and power from their possessors, forcing indeed the hands of the rich, but all the while leaving their hearts untouched, unnoticed and even uncared for. The well-off, in short, might very well face the prospect of being left ill-disposed for receiving the Father's life. This, of course, is a most unsatisfactory situation, and one in which nO follower of Christ can be joyful. Although the point hardly needs emphasizing, let it be said simply that working for the material enrichment of the poor is not the sole or ultimate expression of the spirit of Christian poverty. Unarguably, any profession of love for the poor would be ungodly, senseless and deceitful were it to omit any effort to win release for the poor from the economic, political and social chains that keep them imprisoned both in body and in spirit. At the same time, however, it would misrepresent Christianity to suggest that, inqtself, liberating others from depriva.tion or oppression, with all their destructive implications for human living, either fully reveals or finally exhausts the riches promised by the Father. Christian love demands that the poor come to ~realize that their economic and human liberation is ultimately significant only in terms of that interior freedom by means of which they may be The Faith of Christ: Source of the Virtues of the Vows / 191 fulfilled as their Father's children, gratefully receiving his love and heartful-ly returning it. When people choose poverty for the sake of the Father's kingdom, they choose it for the sake of the poor and of the rich--for all who need love's redemption. Being poor in and with Christ involves indeed a labor to relieve the burden of the poor, but it also essentially involves a commitment to communicate to all people a knowledge of, and a yearning for, the best and the most that our Father offers--his life and his love. If Christians must not betray the poor, neither must they abandon the rich; if the rich do not take the gospel to heart, we must wonder why and we must also increase our efforts and our pleadings that their hearts may be opened to the Father. If this occurs, not only will there be rejoicing in heaven but also on earth, for no one receives the Father except through the Spirit of the Son in whom all are brothers and sisters. Thus I suggest that the poor cannot help but be materially benefited by the entrance of the rich into the spirit of the gospel, because if any return is made to the Father it is made necessarily to those whose fullest dignity lies in being sons and daughters of our Father who gave the riches of the earth and wants them to be shared by all. If the gospel moves the rich to lose their hearts to the Father, it must also move their hands to refashion the earth, and to make room for the poor where they may come more easily to know the Father's goodness and more freely to taste his sweetness. - Our reflections suggest, then, that Christ's poverty illuminates his inner being; it speaks of his knowledge of his Father's goodness and it reveals the loving faith which frees him to seek first the Father's kingdom. But Christ's poverty is also a call to all people to enter into that spirit which allows them to acknowledge the Father as Father and to enjoy forever the best and the most that he offers. Today, people who profess voluntary poverty do so as a way of embodying an appreciation of the richness which is theirs by virtue of their calling as sons and daughters of God. These people struggle to translate the mind and heart of Christ into their actions so that they may live more fully as he did, forgetful of self, careful of all others, searching out especially those who are lost and hurt, striving to secure their rights and to ease their affliction. But the poor with Christ also have a hope: that their poverty will invite, challenge and free both the poor and the rich to join them in the cry of praise and love, "Abba, Father." Celibacy Having viewed Christ's poverty as a virtue which both gives us a glance into his spiritual life and illuminates the challenge facing those who desire to be poor even as he was, we may attend more briefly to Christ's celibacy and obedience. The issue of celibacy serves to focus a certain evolution which has occurred in the everyday perspectives of Christian living. One observer has expressed the change this way: in times gone by, religious 192 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 assured the laity that even though they married they could attain true sanctity and first-class citizenship within the Christian community; now, however, the laity seek to assure religious that even though they are unmar-ried they can achieve true personhood and first-class citizenship as human beings." If we in religion do in fact need this kind of reassurance it is an indication, at the very least, that we have fallen forgetful of the full human stature attained by Jesus Christ. He became a man and grew in wisdom, age and grace before God and men. And one of the ways in which this growth occurred was through his chosen life of celibacy. What, then, can be said of celibacy in Christ's life? First of all, Christ's celibacy, like his. poverty, is an outgrowth and expression of his profound relationship with his Father. It is, I suggest, by reason of his growing perception of himself as one inimitably loved by the Father and as one called to a singular loving response that Jesus makes the decision to remain celibate. Not only is he completely trusting in, and grateful for, his identity as only-begotten Son of his Father, but he is also keenly aware of his role as but the firstborn of a new nation, the head of a new creation. Both from his confidence in his presence to his Father as beloved Son and from his sense of responsibility to be at all times, in all places, and in every way available for the Father's work, Christ is impelled to forego the joys and obligations that invariably constitute the exclusive and permanent covenant of married love. His decision for celibacy is a decision for a complete commitment to the establishment and building up of the people of God who are being summoned to a new relationship with their Father in heaven. But there is, I think, something more implied in Christ's celibacy. It is the clarion cry that salvation is not a matter of being born "according to the flesh in any human family"; rather we must be reborn as children of the Father through the Spirit who has come from on high. Celibacy, then, appears as a challenge against any and every tendency to absolutize the values of human sexuality, familial ties, or national heritage? There are, then, these notes to Christ's celibacy: he makes himself utterly available for the far-ranging service of God and his people, he proclaims the universality of God's Fatherhood and he reminds all men and women that they are known and valued ultimately and most importantly by their being images of the Father who loves them and invites them to live forever. But, at root, Christ's celibacy speaks to us of the full and single-hearted love-relation-ship he enjoys with his Father. As we consider our calling to celibate love we must do so from within the context of realizing the magnificent vocation which is shared by everyone. God has issued a universal call to perfection; all people are to be as perfect and as compassionate as our Father in heaven. Given the bound-aries of human nature, however, each one of us can incarnate only certain facets of the infinite reality of God and of his love for humanity. For this 2Kilian McDonnell, "Religious Life in Low-Profile," America, (July l l, 1970), p. 16. nThomas E. Clarke, S.J., "Celibacy: Challenge to Tribalism," America, (April 19, 1969), p. 465. The Faith of Christ: Source of the Virtues of the Vows / 193 reason, some people are called to witness to God and his love in the joy and tenderness of conjugal love and in the abandonment of self to meeting the immediate and constant needs of the precious people to whom they make a special response and for whom they bear a special responsibility. Other people are invited to testify to the expansiveness of the Father's love through their commitment of celibate love in which no a priori limitations or boundaries are drawn on their loving care for others. Regarding the invitation to perfection, however, one thing at least is certain: whether the call is to conjugal love or to celibate love, the noblest and best vocation for anyone is the one to which that individual is personally invited and directed by the Father. If Christ's celibacy is an expression of his deepest identity in and with his Father, so also must our celibacy express our identity in the Father through Christ if it is to be truly for and of the kingdom of God. And indeed our grounding in the Father is through the heart and Spirit of Christ in whom we come to appreciate, with confidence and joy, our singular presence to the Father. It is in and through our union with Christ that we are renewed in the fulfillment of our basic calling from the Father: that by virtue of our distinctive imaging of him each of us is invited and empowered to love him as he has never been loved before. Clearly, then, the celibacy which reflects the celibacy of Christ for the kingdom of God is a charism, a gift calling for our reception and response to God's initiative of love. It cannot be under-stood simply as a reality which we initiate; rather it is a grace-inspired expression of our desire to live single-heartedly for the Father and his people, even as Christ did and because he did. Celibacy, finally, proclaims our faith and hope in the powerful care which the Father shows us in his Son Jesus Christ to whom alone we look for the deepest and fullest giving and receiving of love, and who alone inspires us along the way of our return to the Father. Theological reflection reveals three levels of significance for Christian celibacy; they are the Christological meaning, the ecclesial and the eschato-logical. In terms of Christology, celibates for the kingdom of God find in this response of love a specific way of letting the spirit and action of Christ take form within them so that their mindg and hearts may be more fully respon-sive to the love of Christ and to his values and interests. In the context of ecclesiology, celibacy expres.ses the desire and willingness to retain sufficient flexibility so as to serve the Father wherever the needs of his people are greatest. Finally, in eschatological terms, the love of a celibate gives witness today to a quality of life which is properly characteristic of the final stage of God's kingdom, that end-time when there will be no marriage and when God ~vill be all in all, everything to everyone.4 Thus celibacy is a way of living and doing the future now. Celibates try to live as though the 4These ideas were developed by Pope Paul V1 in his encyclical letter, Sacerdotalis Coelibatus, June 23, 1967. 194 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 future of God were already fully present, but they also try to live in such a way so as to make that future present. Their hope is in fact to be of help in the building of God's future. In their loving, celibates find a way of saying that they hunger for our God and their hearts are restless until they rest in him. What celibates desire is that, through their loving, the reality of Christ may be further personalized in the lives of others who will be reminded that the holy joys of physical human love are only a glimmer of the delightful and filling love which awaits us in the house of our Father. Sometimes, of course, these desires are not realized. The testimony of celibacy is not heard. When this happens, we as celibates must look within for it is quite possible that the problem is our own. Chances are that our loving may have become more a matter of words than of deeds. It may be that we have become cold and unfeeling, withdrawn and unspirited; or it may be that we are attempting to love too much on our own terms or in keeping with our own timetable. If this is the case, then we have reneged on our commitment to celibacy and on our calling to Christianity, for at the core Of celibacy, as at the core of love, are the Christian ideals of other-centeredness and self-forgetfulness. If we take leave of these qualities, we surely take leave of the spirit of Christ ,and we depart from redemptive celibacy, for the deepest value of Christian celibacy is the specific form it gives to our love of God and his people. Out of love we are made for love, for self-giving for the sake of others. As Christ's celibacy testifies to his faith in the sustaining and enriching power of his Father's love for him and to his desire to be ever about his Father's business, so is.the life of Christian celibacy today a faith-event, a sign of our confidence and expectation that the love of God-in-Christ for us is bringing us to full life; out of the joy and strength of our "being loved" we are enabled to face the risks of living with others the good news of our Father who calls everyone to the fulness of life through love. Obedience If Christ's faith in his Father takes on the shape of voluntary poverty and celibacy, no less does it express itself in his radical obedience. Jesus' awareness of being on a mission, of being one sent by the Father, is pro-found. His profession of allegiance to the will and work of his Father runs like a refrain through his life and teaching. St. John's Gospel resounds with the protestations and reminders of Christ: ¯. what 1 was to say, what I had to speak, was commanded by the Father who sent me . . . (12:49). Yes, I have come from him; not that I came because I chose, no, Iwas sent, and by him (8:42). ¯. I have come from heaven, not to do my own will, but to do the will of the one who sent me (6:38). ¯ . . my aim is to do not my own will, but the will of the one who sent me (5:30). The Faith of Christ: Source of the Virtues of the Vows My food is to do the will of the one who sent me, and to complete his work (4:38). As long as the day lasts I must carry out the work of the one who sent me (9:4). As these words of Jesus make clear, the purposefulness of his life is explained by his adherence to the Father's will; it is from his Father that his life derives strength and takes on direction; here, too, in the Father's will Jesus finds joy and peace for he knows that whatever the Father asks, he asks only and always out of his great love for him. In the core of his being Christ listens to the word of his Father; he hears and he obeys; his mind and heart and will are shaped in and by the Father so that in the life and action of Christ the Father's Word becomes flesh. It is not without reason, then, that Jesus reminds us: "To have seen me is to have seen the Father . You must believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me" (Jn 14:9-11). Living in accordance with the Father's will is not, of course, without its difficulties, even for Jesus, as his temptations at the beginning of his public life reveal. For here Jesus is confronted with perhaps his greatest challenge: to be other than his Father wishes him to be, to let his messiahship be cast more according to the pleas and pleadings of Israel than according to the plans of his Father. The temptation for Christ is real and strong to follow the course of political expediency, to exercise power and might, to bedazzle with miracle and mystery and thus to win a following of people whose ambitions and fantasies are stirred, but whose hearts are still untouched by love and whose minds still do not know the secret and wonderful life to which the Father invites them. But this path Christ rejects; instead, he chooses the way of the Father: to reach out to others through the openness and vulnerability of love, to live and work for others rather than to grand-stand, to suffer and die so that others may know that, by the promise and gift of the Father and through his power, pain ends in happiness and death ends in life. It is hard, I think, to stress too much the significance for Christ himself of his faithful obedience to the Father. Having overcome the temptation to play up to men rather than to trust in the Father's knowledge, power and love, and being wise to the snares of Satan, Christ wishes to leave no doubt either about his own perception of himself or about the expectation upon those who would seek to join him. What explains his own life and what must characterize the lives of those who would be one with him is simply obedi-ence to the Father. For a relationship with Christ, obedience binds rather than blood: "Anyone who does the will of my Father in heaven, he is my brother and sister and mother" (MT 12:50). That Jesus yields to the authority of another does not go unnoticed. It is a truth acknowledged at times by the most unlikely people. For example, when the centurion with the ill servant sends a message that he is not worthy to have Christ enter under his roof and suggests that Christ need only utter the word of healing from afar, he makes a strange admission. The "196 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 soldier of Rome proclaims: "For I am under authority myself, and have soldiers under me" (Lk 7:8). The implication is clear; the centurion sees Christ as being in a situation not unlike his own: as being under authority and as having authority over others. Even as he is commissioned, so he sees Christ as commissioned, as deriving authority from another. The centurion, it seems, has walked--silently, but nonetheless really--into the heart of faith. He recognizes that in Jesus the power of God is being expressed. He seems to know without saying it that Jesus is the Anointed One, the Christ, the one who is totally shaped to the Father so as to be his work of love. In the face of such faith Jesus is astonished and he could well say of this man what he said to Peter: "You are a happy man, because it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you but my Father in heaven" (Mt 16:17). For those who desire to be obedient in and with Christ it is not enough to know and appreciate that his faithful surrender brought him to death, even death on a cross. What we must also learn to cherish is the truth that obedience shaped his being and life. Christ's actions are the work of the Father because Christ thinks with the Father and wills with the father. In putting on the mind and heart of the Father Christ's only concern and his full joy are to do the Father's work. Being fully obedient in and with Christ is a challenge, then, to respond to our Father's love by offering him the service not only of our hands, but also of our hearts, minds and wills. Obedience to the Father is redemptive only because it expresses, reveals and encourages among others an acceptance of the truth that the father so loves us that he wants only what is for our good. Because of his love for us and because of his desire to render this love effective in our lives, the Father asks that we attend to him, even as Christ did, so that with Christ we may be lifted up. Conclusion The authenticity and vitality of our vowed lives express both the reality and presence of God to us and our trusting and grateful effort to direct our lives ever more clearly and singly toward rendering him a return of love. There is a way, moreover, for us to dispose ourselves for such a response. Jesus himself offers the advice: "If you make my word your home you will indeed be my disciples, you will learn the truth and the truth shall make you free" (Jn 8:31-2). To his word, as to our home, we must come for rest, for relaxation, and for re-creation. In his word, as in a home, we will find support, we will be nourished, accepted and encouraged to grow; we will, in short, be loved into fuller life. In his word we are valued for who we are and not for what we accomplish; in his word we come to understand our beginnings. There we dream, and thence we derive our hopes for the future. Making God's word our home, living, moving and having our being there, frees us to the surrender of faith in which we live out our vows as our pledge that we will allow our Father the freedom to keep us as free as possible for him, for his gospel and for his people. Wilderness and Marketplace Prayer and Action in Mark's Gospel Marian Madore, F.C.J. Sister Marian conducts adult-education classes in Scripture and prayer while she continues her studies. She resides at Mr. St. Joseph Convent; Ferry Rd.; Bristol, RI 02809. The Gospel of Mark moves at a breathless pace, its sentences frequently beginning with the Greek equivalent of words such as "immediately" and "straightway." Its action-packed narrative conveys the urgency of the mission of Jesus. Ft. Gerard S. Sloyan comments: lfthe Master relaxes, one does not learn it from Mark. To read this gospel at a single sitting is to feel hemmed in by crowds, wearied by their demands, besieged by the attacks of demons? We could, perhaps, take exception to the statement: "If the Master relaxes, one does not learn it from Mark." There are unobtrusive state-ments here and there in the gospel that seem to indicate a kind of cycle.in the days of Jesus' public ministry: a constant seeking after solitude only to be interrupted once more by the demands of the crowds; sometimes a sacrificing of quiet time to attend to their needs, only to be followed by another period of solitary prayer. As he moves back and forth from the wilderness to the market-place, Jesus shows us how to harmonize prayer and action in our living of the Christian life. It is significant that Mark's gospel begins in the wilderness. John the Baptist is presented in terms of Isaiah 40:3 which in the prophet's time ~Gerard S. Sloyan, The Gospel of Saint Mark, "New Testament Reading Guide" #2 (Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 1960) p. 7. Used with permisssion from the publisher. 197 Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 announced a new Exodus, the return of the Israelites from Babylon. Now, John is proclaiming the ultimate deliverance through the Messiah: "A voice cries in the wilderness: Prepare a way for the Lord, make his paths straight" (Mk 1:3).z Mark adds: "And so it was that John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins" (1:4). It is helpful to keep in mind the Old Testament significance of "the wilderness." The desert experience of the Exodus was a time of testing, the great test being: Can we continue to trust that the Lord will guide us to the promised land? Later prophets such as Hosea and Jeremiah tended to look back on the sojourn in the desert with rose-colored glasses and to see it as a time of first fervor: "Yahweh says this: I remember the affection of your youth, the love of your bridal days; you followed me through the wilderness, through a land unsown" (Jr 2:2). A return to the desert orto first fervor was longed for by many of the prophets: "I am going to lure her and lead her out into the wilderness and speak to her heart" (Ho 2:14). Hence, the desert came to be symbolic of both temptation and change of heart, the gateway to new beginnings. In Mark's gospel, we find the wilderness presented as a battle-ground, and also as a place of refreshment and renewal. Mark, with his usual tendency to "get down to business," tells the story of Jesus' baptism very briefly, stressing the most important aspect of this event, the combined witness of the Father and the Spirit to Jestis, the Belo.ve~l Son. Then, he continues: "Immediately afterwards the Spirit drove him out into the wilderness and he remained there for forty days, and was tempted by Satan. He was with the wild beasts and the angels looked after him (Mk 1:12-13). Mark's language is particularly expressive; he says that "the Spirit drove him out into the wilderness." Matthew and Luke say that Jesus was "led by the Spirit" into the wilderness (Mt 4:1 ; Lk 4:1). Are we to understand here some human repugnance on the part of Jesus in facing this ordeal? William Barclay suggests that Matthew and Luke delib-erately softened the expression here.3 If we supplement Mark's brief sketch with the longer versions of Matthew and Luke, we shall find that for Jesus the desert experience was a time of testing, when in prayer and fasting, he resisted the temptation to conduct his ministry in a manner which would substitute worldly expediency and acclaim for his Father's will. "Forty days" is a Hebraism for "a long time" and suggests the similar ordeals undergone by Moses (Ex 34:28) and Elijah (I K 19:8). But the desert is not only a battleground. Paradoxically, it can also be a place of refreshment, light, and peace. Mark indicates that Jesus frequent-ly sought out lonely places for prayer and rest from the crowds. Very early in his gospel, Mark presents us with what Jim Bishop would call "A Day ~AII quotations from the Bible are taken from The Jerusalem Bible (Garden City: Doubleday, 1966). Used with permission from the publisher. 3See William Barclay, The Gospel of Mark, "The Daily Study Bible Series" (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1956), p. xix. Wilderness and Marketplace: Prayer and Action hl Mark / 199 in the Life of Jesus of Nazareth" (see Mk 1:21-34).4 It is a day of teaching and healing, packed with activity. Immediately after the account of this specimen day, we read: In the morning, long before dawn, he got up and left the house, and went offto a lonely place and prayed there. Simon and his companions set out in search of him, and when they found him they said: 'Everybody is looking for you." He answered, 'Let us go elsewhere, to the neighboring country towns, so that I can preach there too, because that is why I came' (Mk 1:35-39). We know that chronological order is not always important in the gos-pels, but this passage seems to be a notable exception. D. E. Nineham sees it as placed very deliberately after the specimen day and providing a significant commentary on it.5 The enthusiasm of the crowds on the preced-ing day was born of admiration for a wonder-worker--not the kind of reception that Jesus was really looking for. It could be that this was a time Of stress for Jesus when he needed to be alone with his Father and to reassess his ministry. Instead of leaving him in peace, Peter and the others "tracked him down" (Mark uses a Greek word which suggests a hostile pursuit) and here, the evangelist very pointedly omits calling them "disci-ples" since they are not really acting like disciples but are caught up in the excitement of Jesus' worldly success?~ They think they are the bearers of good news--"Everybody is looking for you." Jesus, seeing through the motives of "everybody," announces his intention to "go elsewhere," add-ing "so that I can preach there too, because that is why I came" (1:38). In other words, he did not come to bask in the adulation of the crowds at Capernaum. By the end of the first chapter of Mark's gospel, the wilderness theme is very much in evidence. After the leper fails to keep the "messianic secret" and talks freely about his cure, the result is that "Jesus could no longer go openly into any town, but had to stay outside in places where nobody lived. Even so, people from all around would come to him" (1:45). It is interesting to note that within the brief compass of Mark's first chapter, Jesus is shown making three excursions into the wilderness! The same Greek word--the equivalent of "desert"--is used in each case. There are instances in Mark's gospel where nothing short of an escape from the crowds is suggested. For instance, we read: "With the coming of evening that same day, he said to them, 'Let us cross over to the other side' And, leaving the crowd behind, they took him,just as he was, in the boat" (Mk 4:35-36). Here, we do not find the usual "dismissal" of the crowd (see Mk 6:45-46). The degree of Jesus's exhaustion is graphically highlighted by vivid descriptive details: "Then it began to blow a gale and the waves were breaking into the boat so that it was almost swamped. But he was in the 4See D. E. Nineham, Saint Mark, "'The Pelican New Testament Commentaries" (Baltimore: Penguin Books, lnc., 1963), pp. 73ff. 5See op. cir., p. 83. 6Cf. Nineham, op. cit., p. 84. 200 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 stern, his head on the cushion, asleep" (4:37-38). When the apostles return from a missionary journey, Jesus encourages them to follow his example: "You must come away to some lonely place all by yourselves and rest for a while . So they went off in a boat to a lonely place where they could be by themselves" (Mk 6:31-32). Again the Greek word means "a desert place." On this occasion again, Jesus and the apostles sacrifice their solitude. The crowds follow them and Jesus takes pity on them, teaching, and later feeding them. But he has not forgotten his original plan! Mark tells us: "Directly after this he made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to Bethsaida, while he himself sent the crowd away. After saying good-bye to them he went off to the hills to pray" (Mk 6:45-46). Fr. Bruce Vawter suggests that both the apostles and the crowds were suffering from what he calls "messianic fever" and that it was necessary for both groups to be separated from Jesus and from each other for a time.r For both "the agony and the ecstasy" of his earthly life, Jesus chooses a place of solitude. Introducing the account of the transfiguration, Mark writes: "Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John and led them up a high mountain where they could be alone by themselves. There, in their presence, he was transfigured" (Mk 9-2). The last recorded instance where Jesus seeks a lonely place for prayer is before his Passion when he goes to the garden of Gethsemane to pray. Mark's Greek is simply "a piece of land." The name suggests the Hebrew word for "olive-press." John calls it "a garden" (see Jn 18:1), while Luke refers to it as "the Mount of Olives" (see Lk 22:39). Putting all this together, we could think of an olive-grove on a hilltop. Here, in his last "desert," Jesus faces his last temptation and surrenders to the will of his Father unto death. Owing to his gift for vivid descriptive narrative, Mark presents the most graphic pictures of Jesus hemmed in, suffocated, at times almost crushed by the crowds thronging to him for cures and instruction. The following sample passages speak for themselves: i :33: The whole town came crowding round the door . 2:2: So many people collected that there was no room left, even in front of the door. 3:9-10: And he asked his disciples to have a boat ready for him because of the crowd, to keep him from being crushed. For he had cured so many that all who were afflicted in any way were crowding forward to touch him. 3:20: He went home again, and once more such a crowd collected that they could not even have a meal. 5:31: His disciples said to him, "You see how thecrowd is pressing round you and yet you say, 'Who touched me?" "" 6:31:. for there were so many coming and going that the apostles had no time even to eat. 7See Bruce Vawter, C.M., The Four Gospels: An Introduction (Garden City: Doubleday and Co., Inc., 1967), p. 175. Wilderness and Marketplace: Prayer and Action in Mark / 201 Perhaps nowhere does the humanity of Jesus shine through so convinc-ingly as in this picture that Mark has left us of Jesus wearied and crushed by the crowds, exhausted in serving their needs, and going off to a desert place where he could be alone and pray. Mark's gospel shows us that the "time-pressure problem" in the apostolate as in other aspects of life, did not originate with the technological twentieth century. Jesus had to deal with it too. Most of us have made the discovery that too much emphasis on the quantity of our works and apostolic involvements can result in a deterioration in the quality of our presence to other people. In his book, The Human Adventure: Contemplation for Everyman, Fr. William McNamara reminds us: We need to become less crowded, less rushed, less dispersed, less victimized by the tyranny of diversion. We need to simplify our lives. We need to "collect" ourselves in periods of silence and places of solitude--not in order to withdraw or isolate ourselves from others, but in order to relate more thoughtfully and lovingly to at least some of the others, if not all.8 The same author makes a suggestion that might exasperate and even infuriate some of his readers, so impossible does it seem to be: I suggest that we stop doing half the work that presently consumes us. Then let us attend to the remaining half whole-heartedly, with contemplative vision and creative love. I stake the authenticity of our lives and the effectiveness of our work on this radical shift.9 When I first read this passage, I asked myself: "If I were to stop doing half of my present work, which half would it be?" Needless to say, the question was exceedingly difficult to answer. Even if we cannot take these words literally, there will be times when we will be wise to say that difficult little word, "No"--realizing that we are not expected to take on the salva-tion of the world single-handedly! True, prayer and discernment are needed to distinguish between lack of generosity and a genuine need to slow down. Jesus knew what it was like to work with human limitations of energy and opportunity. If he could unashamedly withdraw from the crowds, surely we need to do the same. Perhaps the outburst of activism we have witnessed in the Church during the pa~t few 3~ears is beginning to die down, thanks to the growing recognition that the person in a "mad rush" will never commu-nicate the healing touch and inner peace of Jesus. A large part of Mark's "Good News about Jesus Christ, the Son of God" (1: 1) is that he shared so completely in the weakness of our humanity. His methods must be ours. Mark's gospel tells us that we shall never be effective in the marketplaces of this world unless, like Jesus, we withdraw at times to the wilderness to be alone and pray. " 9William McNamara, O.C.D., The Human Adventure: Contemplation for Everyman (Garden City: Doubleday and Co., Inc., 1974), p. 165. Used with permission from the publisher. aMcNamara, op. cit., p. 171. Used with permission from the publisher. Trinity and Community Lewis S. Fiorelli, O.S.F.S. Father Fiorelli is superior of the community at De Sales Hall; 5001 Eastern Ave.; Hyattsville, MD 20782. The opening lines of the Book of Genesis have frequently served as a clue to an understanding of God and of man, and of the relationship between the two. Verses 26-27 of Chapter 1 express this relationship well: Then God said: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.". God created man in his image; in the divine image he created him; male and female he created them. In Genesis, the origin of the universe in all its parts is attributed to God's creative activitythrough the agency of his Word. It suggests that the Word's highest work of creation was the imparting of the divine image (eikon) to man. It is well to understand the import of "image" so as to appreciate its significance for man, who is the ikon of God. Greek liturgical art can be helpful here, for in this art the ikon is not simply a picture which one observes objectively. Rather, for the Greek mind, the ikon makes the reality of the depicted mystery present to the observer. The ikon, then, serves as a medium of encounter between the observer and the mystery. If, for instance, the ikon depicts Jesus, the reality of Jesus is somehow made present to the observer through the ikon. In this way, Jesus and man encounter one another through the medium of the ikon. Such an encounter precludes neutrality; rather, it calls for a mutual response which is both personal and powerful. This understanding of ikon can powerfully deepen our appreciation of the biblical affirmation that man is the ikon of God. Man is created in such 202 Trinity and Community / 203 a way as to be able to make God present to his fellowman. In man, then, other men can encounter the reality represented by man: God himself. Only one man in history, of course, has made God fully present to his fellowman, because he was in fact the enfleshment or tangibility of God. That man is Jesus. However, something of his unique faculty as the true ikon Of the living God is also within the potential of all men and women, who also bear the divine image. But just what does man, the living ikon of God, make present to his fellowman? In the fulness of revelation, personally expressed in Jesus, we have learned that our God is community. Father, Son and Holy Spirit partake of the one same essence and yet are three persons. The oneness of the Godhead expresses itself in the plurality of persons, the community we call Trinity. As ikon of God, man makes community present to his fellow-man and enables him to participate in it. More emphatically, as ikon of the divine community, man finds himself, his meaning and his ultimate purpose in, from, and with others. In being God's ikon, man is oriented toward others: God and his fellowman. The man Jesus has been called "the man for others" because of his intermediary role, making God present in a saving way to man. Contempo-rary biblical ~cholarship is unanimous in assigning to Jesus a sensitive and sustained awareness of being sent on behalf of the God whom he knows as Father. Jesus finds his own meaning in the message which proclaims the arrival of the Father's kingdom among men. Again and again he assures those to whom he ministers: "My doctrine is not my own; it comes from him who sent me" (Jn 7:16). Jesus is sensitive to the reality that all he does and is derives from the Father, for "he who gives me glory is the Father" (Jn 8:54). He sums up this radical orientation when he responds to Philip: "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father . I am in the Father and the Father is in me . It is the Father who lives in me accomplishing his works" (Jn 14:9-10). It is precisely because Jesus, the divine ikon, was unswervingly oriented toward others that as man he was the visible mani-festation of God, and, as such, the saving presence of God to man. Schille-beeckx terms him "the primordial sacrament of man's encounter with God." Jesus, fully the ikon of God, makes the Community which is the Trinity present to man and to creation. In Jesus, man and all creation encounter the Community of God, and this encounter is the saving deed of God on behalf of both! Made to the image of divine community and redeemed by Jesus on behalf of the same community, each man is called to manifest this commu-nity by locating his meaning in others: in God and in his fellowman. St. Francis de Sales is deeply sensitive to the trinitarian nature of God, to man's creation in the image of this divine community, and to man's consequent challenge to find his meaning in and on behalf of community. He affirms in the Treatise oll the Love of God that though "God is sole he 904 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 is not thereby solitary" (AE IV: 204).1 And he insists that "we are created to the image and likeness of God. What does this mean if not that we have the utmost congruity with his divine majesty?" (AE IV: 74). Further, since each man possesses the image and is therefore the ikon of God, Francis preaches that "we are the image of one another, all of us representing only the one portrait who is God" (AE X: 270-271). It is the Salesian conviction that the community of man is the collective portrait of the Community which is God. In preaching on the Lord's high priestly prayer for unity (Jn 17), St. Francis de Sales asks: "Who else would have dared., to make such a comp~.rison and ask that we be united as the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit are joined together?" (AE X:267). Together men form the portrait of God and together they are intended to realize the community of which they are the image. For this reason, Francis de Sales preaches that "man has been created to the resemblance of God; therefore, love of the neighbor leads us to love in him the resemblance and image of God, that is to say [that we are to help] to render this resemblance more and more perfect" (AE VIII: 148). In all of this there is a profound simplicity. Community creates man; man is the image or ikon of community. The other-directedness of man is rooted in the other-directedness of his Trinitarian God. Therefore, man is radically community

Issue 11.3 of the Review for Religious, 1952. ; A.M.D.G. Reviewfor Religious MAY 15, 1952 Newman: Defender of Mar~y . John A. Hardo~ Custody of-,the Senses " Evereff J. Mibach" The S°acred Heart . ~. ~4;chaoIJ. Lap;e,re ¯ Quinquennial Directive, III . Joseph F. Gallen Questions and Answers Summer SesSions~ Book Reviews VOLUM~ XI NUMBER 3 RI::VI W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME XI MAY, 1952 NUMBER 3 CONTENTS CARDINAL NEWMAN, APOLOGIST OF OUR LADY-~ J~h~ A. Hardon, S.J . 113 SUMMER SESSIONS . 1 IGNATIANSPIRITUALITY Augustine G. Ellard, S.J . 125 CUSTODY OF THE SENSES--Everett J. Mibach, S.J . 1'~3 THE SACRED HEART: A THOUGHT FOR RELIGIOUS-- Michaei J. Lapierre, S.J . OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 150 THE QUINQUENNIAL REPORT: OBLIGATIONS AND DIREC-TIVES, III Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. 151 TEN YEAR INDEX--NOW AVAILABLE . 158 UNIQUE SCHOLARSHIP . 158 PIUS XII ON THE RELIGIOUS LIFE . 158 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 13. Restoration of Solemn Vows . ". . . 159 14. Dispensation from Eucharistic Fast . 160 15. Revenue from Ceded Property . 160 16. Is Ranching Permitted? . 161 17. Prescriptions for Privacy . 161 18. Obligation to Confess Doubtful Sins . 162 VOCATION PAMPHLETS . 162 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Mystical Evolution in the Development and Vitality of the Church; The Breviary Explained . 163 BOOK NOTICES . 165 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 167 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1952. Vol. XI, No. 3. 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: Jerome Breunig, S.J.; Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Adam C. Ellis, S.J. ; Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright, 1952, 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 writlncj to us, pleas~ consult notice on Inside back cover. ' Cardinal Newman, :Apologist Our,La y, . Joh'n A. Hardon, S.J. IN THEIR formal prote~t in 1950 against the definition of Our Lady's As, sumpt!on, the~Anglic~n bishops Of England declared,. "We profoundly-regret that the Roman ~Catholic Chm:ih has chssen .b~; this act to increase dogmatic differences in Christendom a'nd has thereby gravely injured the .growth of understand!ng be-tween Christians based on a common possession, of the fundamental . truths of the Gospel." ¯ (London Times,. August 18, 19 51J.). We may assume that the'Bis.hops of Y, otk and Can[erbur'y were sincere in m~aking-this decli~ration, but how should we estimate and deal with their attit&de of mind, which is so common among ,Chris-tians out'side the true Church? Why should, faith in Mgr}', as one~ Prote.stant theologian phts'.it, be the "swordof separation", between .Catholic and non-Catholic Christianity? Fortu_nately we havean excellent guide ifi this matter in "Cardinal Newman, ~ho himself ~p~ssed through all the stages of-p)¢judi~e'ag'ainst Catholic devotion to.the Blessed Virgin !VI, ary, and finally became an outstan.ding de-fender. of her dignity against the attacks 6f.her enemies. " Newm, an'~ Anglican Deuotion to Ma~rtt ' Newman became a Catholic in 1845, afte~ forty-fou~ years in the established Church of England. L.oqg before his conversion,' however, 1~ was already devbted to the Blessed,Virgin Mary. Among the ~arly, influences in his life at Oxford .was Hurrel[ Froude who "taught me to look with admiration towards the Church of Rome. He fixed deep' in me the idea of devotion to the Blessed.Virgin." Froude had "a high. seyerefidea of the intrinsic excellence of Virgin-ity: ¯ and be considered the Blessed. Virgin 'its great Pattern.~' (A., 22, 23.) ~ - Througl~olat his Anglican. days, Newman often preached on the digni~y of.Christ's Mother, stressing esl~ecially her transcendent. purity and nearness t6 God. "He never.tired of repeating that Christ was born of a'Virgin "pure and.spotless.'" To his mi,nd, it Was in-lThe key [t~ the references is: A. Apologia (1~47) : P. Pdrochial and Pia~n Serf mons, II (1~18); L.'P. "Letter to,Pusey" in Di~culties o~-Anglicans (1907). 3OHN'A. HARDON Review [or Religious conkeivable that the only.-beg~tten Son of God should have come. into the World' as other men. "The thought may not be suffered that He,should have been the son of shame and guilt: He came by a new ~nd living way: He selected and purified a tabernacle for Himself. becomlng the immaculate seed of the woman, forming His body miraculously from the substance of the.Virgin Mary" (P., 31). On the Feast of the Annunciation in 1832. he preached a sermon on Mary's sanctity in which he was accused of teaching ~he Immacu-late Conception."That whicti % born of the flesh," he said, "is flesh." So that no one can bring what is clean from what is un-clean. In view of her prospective digr~ity-as the Mother of Christ, Mary was endowed Withgifts of holiness that are be~.ond descrip-tion. "What must have been the transcendent purity of h'erwhom the Creator Spirit. condescended to overshadow with His miraculous presence . This contemplation runs to a higher subje~t, did we dare follow it: for what, think you, was the sanctified humanstate of that human nature of which God.formed His sinless Son?" (P., 132.) Newman would not draw the illation, but his audience did. Later in life he referred tot this sermon as a witness to his abiding affection f~r the Blessed Virgin"Mary. "I hid a true devotion to the gl~ssed ViFgin.". he says, speaking of his Oxford. days, "in whose college I lived, whose Altar I served, and whose Immaculate Purity I had in one of my earliest printed sermons made much of"-(A. 149). Early Prejudices against "'Mariotatr{ ': Against this inspiring background, we are surprised to find cer~ tain blindspotsand inconsistencies in Newman's Anglican devotion to the Virgin Mother. Until a few years before his conversion, he hesitated to call Mary the Mother of God. Convinced, it seems, of the fact of her divine maternity, he could not bring.himself to give her this exalted title. The Son of God. he preached, "came into this World, not in the clouds but born of a woman; He the Son of Mary, and she (if it may be said)"the Mother of God" (P., 32). gome of Newman's critics have remarked on the length of time he spent in coming to a d~cision about entering the Roman Church. Ten, fifteen years before his conversi6n he' spoke of "the high gifts and strong claims of the ChUrch of.Romd on. our admiration, rever-ence, love and gratitude." He wbuld ask himself how a non-Catholic "can withstand her attractiveness, how he can "refrain from being melted into tendernessand rushing into commun'ion" with her, on Ma~ , 1.957. " OUR LADY, S DEFENDER beholding the Church's bea~;.,of doctrine and vindication of he~ Newman answers for himself. On the one hand he. found the Roman Church most attractive in her doctrine an'd ritual; on the o~ber hand be resisted her advances. "My feeling," he .confessed, "was something like that of a man who is obliged in a court of jus-tice'to bear Witness against a f~iend" (A., 50). There was a con-flict between "reason and affection," between what be thought hi~ reason told him against the errors of Rome, and what his si3ontane-ous Christian affections loved inRoman Catholicism. Now the strange fact i~i~hal~ Newman. reduced all his Anglican objections ~o the Chtlrch of Rbme'tb o,rie b~t~ic element in her system, namely, her devotion to" the saints and partictilarly to the Mother of God. "Writing as.a Catholic, he.says, "I thought¯ the essence of her (the Roman Church's) offence to consist in the h0nours which she paid to the Blessed Virgin and the saints, ,and the more I grew in devotion, both to the saints and to our L~dy, the more impatient I was at the Roman.pr~tctices, as if those glorified creations Of God ~nust be severely shocked, if pain could be theirs, at the undue ven-eration of which they were the objects". (A., 48). One¯day, as an Anglican. he summarized the pros and cons for becoming a Catholic. Point six ~n a series of nine is clear: "I could not go to Rome. while she suffered honours to be paid to.~he Bl~ssed Virgin and the Saints which I thought in my ¯conscience to be incom-i~ atible with the Supreme, Incommunicable Glory of the One In-finite and Ete'rnal" which belong solely to God-(A:, 134). Four years before his conve?sion, in 1841, he received an appeal from a zealous Catholic layman urging him not to hesitate any longer about submittingto Rome, when so little doctrinal difference separated the Anglicans from the true Church. Newman replied in a long letter, in which he said. "I fear I am .going to pain you by telling you, that you consider the approaches in 'doctrine on our part towards you closer than they really are: I cannot help repeating what I have many tim~s said in print that your ~ervices and ,devo-tions to St. Mary in matter of fact do rfiost deeply pain me. I am or~ly stat~rig it as a fact." (A. 173.) A year later. Newman wrote to Dr. Russ~ll to thank him for an English translation of St.,.Alphonsus L. iguori's sermons. Dr. Rus-sell. who was president of Mayno.oth in Dublin. had. says Newman, "perhaps more todo with my conversion than anyone else." In ,the 115 ,. JOHN A. I~ARDON Ret~idW f6"r l~tter, NeWman asked his friend whether anything had been left out in the transla'tion of Liguori'~ sermons, and was, tg.ld that there had been omissions in One sermon about'the Blessed Virgin. This small detail appears to have been,the turning,point in Newmail's apl~roach, to the .Church. D'escribing ivin the Apologia he says, "It must be "observed. ihat the writings of St. Alfonio,~is I knew-them by the extracts commonly mad~ fror~ them. prejudiced me as much agaifi~t~ 'the Roman Church a~ anything, el;e, on accou, nt of what was called tl~eig .'Mariol.atry.'.'' But, and this i~ significant, ~'there is nothing of the kind in this book" which Russell had sent hirn2 "This omis-sion in.the.case of a book intended for Catholics. at le~t showed that such passages as are fdund in the works of Italian authois were not acceptable to every part of ,the Catholic world. S~ch de~r~tid~al. ~ manifestations in honour of our L~dyhad be~n .my great crux as re- "~ ~ards ~atholicism." (A.,.176.) Once he became cdnvinced that the, Roman Church was willing to d~mngu)sh between faith arid external piety in devotion to Mary,. and to recog,nize that piety,-unlike fa'ith, canbe different for dlfferent people, his entrance, into the Church was only a matter of time. e 'letter-to Dr. Russell was sent iri November. 1842, and in February of the following year. Newman made a formal public retraction "of all the hard things which I had said.against the Church of Rome" (A., .1,81). - - _. In Defehse of Mar~'s Honor . ¯ A~ter his cdnversion. Newman drew fre~luent!y on his own ex: ¯ perience tohelp remove ~he obstacles which 6thers had to face in their" journe~y to" Rom~---notably the (ommon prejudice against so-called Catholic excesses in devotion to the Blessed Virgin. However, for the most part this was 0nly private and persbnal, assistance to pros-pec~ ive converts or in answer ,to specific"charges made by ir~dividual Protestant~,. Not until 1865~ did he have.an opportunity to defe'nd :l~Iary's honor and .to vindicate~the Roman piety.in her.regard in a way.that was to win for.him the gratitude 6f generations 6f Ehglish-speaking Catholics. In 1865 his old f'riend Edward Pus£y published.~he Eireni~on, im which he promised a peaceful settlement of the differences between Canterbury ~ind Rome, if only Rome Would meet certain conditions' .which'he recommended. One of the major obstacles which had 'td ¯ be removed in .~he. interest of re-ufiion was the Roman Church's cultus~f th~ Mother of God. "I believeY he said, "the system jn 116 May, 195'2" . Ouk LADY'S DEFENDER regard to the Blessed Virgin iLthe.chief hindiance~to ~e-union." Of all the objecti, ons which the.average ]~gli~hmanhas against Rome. "the vast system as to the:Blessed:Virgin ¯ . to all of us has been the, special, ciuxof the Roma~a system." (Eirenicon, 101.) Pus'ey' opposed the ~urrent.Catholic devotion to the Blessed Vir-gin on two scores: he claimed it was simply excessive, and it lacked a solid'foundation.in Cfiristian tradition. He singled out fo.5~special censure the dogma°.of the Immaculate Conception Which had just" been definedeleven'years,before. This was the quintessence of papal presumption~ in.defining as revealed doctrine what only a handfu'l of zealots had originally believed to be true. Puse)~'s main diffictilty, however was similar to what Newman's hhd been, that Catholic piety towards Mary was derogating.from -the h0northat was rightly du~ to her Son. St~itements like "God does not will to give anything except through the Blessed Viigin," and "He has pl~aced her between Christ and the Church" were unin-telligible, he thought, if Christ is. the sol~ Mediator between God.and man. -Granted that."the'devotion of the peo'ple to the Blessed Vir-gin outruns the judgment of the priestL" but what "if the whole weight of Papal authority is added to the popular doctrines, and the people a.re bidden . . . to bestill more devoted to the Ble'~sed Virgin ¯ . . one sees not ~here there shall,be any pause or bound short 6f thal~ bold conceptioln that 'every prayer, both of individuals and of th~ Church. should b~ addressed to St. Mary.~ ""(Eir~ni~o.n, i86~, 187.) Newman's answer to Pusey, while called a Letter, extends tO 170 pages~in Longmans' edition. Thebody of the letter.fails into .three parts, each dealing with a separate charge made by Pusey. has been justly called a "inaste.rpiece of Marian literature," which-deserves to be better known not on~ly as a revelation of Newman's 6wn love for Our~Lady, but.as a source book. of apologetics to.de-fend our Catholic devotion to the Mother of God. " Marian Doctri;~e not Marian Devotion "I begin," .say~s Newman, "l~y making a distinction--the dis-tinction between faith and. devotiom" By faith.in the Blessed Vir-g~ n he means all that Catholics~believe has be~n revealed to us about the Mother of God. By. devotion he .mean~ such'religious honors and expiessions of affection as follow f~m the faith.' "Faith and ' dev6tion are as distinct in fact as they are in idea. We cannot. in-deed. be de~out without faith, but we may believe with6ut feeling 117 JOHN A. HARDON Reaiew for Religious devotion." .-Against the Protestant Objection that Catholic doctrine about Mary has grown by adcretion over the centuries, Newman an.2 ¯ swers that what has grow.n is subjective de;cotion, that is, r~aliza, tion and expression of faith, but not ttJe faith itself. And again, in detrain countries Catholics are accused of makin'g almost a goddess of the Madonna, while elsewhere their piety is mo~e restrained. The same distinction applies: without defer~ding genuine¯ excesses, it is still true t.hat some Catholics are more affectionate and expressive in their devotions than others, but the doctrine about Mary'is always the same. ~ "This distinction," for Newman, "is forcibly brought home to a convert as a peculiarity Of the Catholic religion, on his first intro-duction to its worship. The fiii.th is e~erywhere the same, bul~ a large liberty is "accorded to private judgment and inclination, as regards matters of devotion . No one interferes with his neighbor: agree-ing, as it. were, to differ, they pursue independently a common end, ,~lnd by paths, distinct but converging, present themselves before God." (L. P., 28'). Starting from this distinction, Newman pr6ceeds to explai'n. some of the fundamental doctrines which" Catholics ~hold regarding the Blessed Virgin. Her Immaculate Conception, for ,example, is a stumbling block to non-Catholics because they do not knob¢ what we mean by original ~in. "Odr doctrine of original sin is not the same as the Protestant. We with the Fathers think of it as some-thing negative, Protestants a~ something posit!ve."' . They.hold that '~'it is a disease, a radical.change of nature, an.active poison internally ¯ corrupting the soul, infecting its primary elements, and disorganizing it; and they fanc'y we ascribe a different nature, from ours to the Blessed Virgin, different from that of her parents, and from that of fallen Adam~" .We hold nothing of the kind. "We consider that. in Adam she died as others; that she was included, together with the whoIe race, in Adam's sentence, . .but we. deny that she had original sin; for by original si'n we mean something negative, the deprivation of tfiat supernatural unmerited grace .which Adam and Eve had on their first formation." Catholic belief .ir~ the'Immacula'te C~nception is only a natural ~orollary to the more fundamental truth' of the Divine Maternity. Newman is a specialist here, tracing the clear lines of tradition from the earliest Fathers of the Church. "To the Greeks she was Theoto-kos, to the Lati~as Deipara, to us the Mother of God. Intoone para-graph he crowds the testimony of the. ages on the elemental dignity 118 JOHN. A. HARDON - - Reuieu~ fo~" Religiou* of the Virgin Mary.°. "our:Go~' Was carried in the womb of Mary," says Ignatius who was martyred A.D:-106. "The Maker of all," says Amphylochius, "is born of a.Virgin.'.' "God dwelt in a womb," says Proclus. Cassian says, "Mary bore her Author." "~The E;~'er-lasting," says Ambrose, "came into the. Virgin.' . He" is' made in thee," }ays St. Augustine. "Wh6 made thee~" (L. P., 47,~ 65.) On the practical side, !Newman deals With the question of Mary's intercessory power which, he explains, follows "from two basic truths: first that it is good a~ad useful to invoke the saints, and sec-ondly that the Blessed Virgin is singu, larly dear to her Son. The first may be assumed among believing Christians, but the second notso obviods. ¯ Granting tfiat prayer of intercession is "a first prin- .ciple of the Church's life. it is certain again that the vital fofce' of .that intercession~, as an availing l~ower, is sanctity.The words of the man born blind speak the common-sense of nature: 'If any man be a-worshiPper.of God, him He heareth.' " What thin must be the position Of the Blessed Virgin before the throne of God? . If the Lord was willing t$ spare Sodom and Gomorrha in answer to Abra-ham's piayer, if the prayer of Job for his friends saved them from the anger of God, if Elias b~.his prayer Shut and opened the hea-v~n~, if Jeremias, Moses, and Samuel were great mediators between God and His people, ."what offence is it to affirm the like of her.who was not merely," as Abraham,. Moses, and Elias, "the friend, but was the very Mother of God." (L. P., 71,'72.) Doctrine about Mary °Alfect~ed by Devotion Having laid the doctrinal foundhtion for Mariah piety, Newman examines the charges made by Pusey that Catbollc devotion tO the Blessed.Vi~gin i~ exc~siy~ and out of proportion.to its dogmatic basis. This accusation would be. justified only if man were all intel-lect and his religi6n were only intellectual. But "religion acts on the affections." And "who is to hinder these, when once roused, from. gathering in their strength and running wild? Of all passions; love is themost unmanageable; nay more,, I would not give:much for that ¯ -love which is never extravagant, which always .observes theproprie-ties, and can move about in perfect good taste, under all circum-stances. What motbeg, what husband or wife, what youth or maiden in love, but says a thousand foolish tbifigs, in the way of endear-ment, which the. s~eaker wouldI be sorry for strangers to hear, ye~ they ~re not on that account unWelcome'to .the parties to whom they are addressed " (L. P., 79, 80.)! \ i 119 JOHN A. HARDON Ret~ieto for Religious "Let me _apply' what ~ have been saying to the teaching of., the Church on the" subject of the Blessed Virgin . When once we haste mastered the idea that Marry bore. suckled, and handled the Eternal in th, e fo~m of a child, wh~t limit is conceivable to the rush and flood ,of thoughts wfiich0such a doctrine involves?¯ What.awe and ~urprise :must attend upqn th~.knoWledge tha't a creature has. been brought :so'dose to the Divine Essence? "It was the creation of a new idea and of. a new sympathy, ofa new faith and worship, when the holy Apostles announced that God had become inc~irnate; then a supreme love and devotion ~ to Him became possible, which see~ed hopeless before¯ that revelation. ,.This was the first consequence of their teaching. But besides this,'a second range of though}s ~vas opened on mankind, unknown before, and unlike any other, as soori as it was understood }hat that Incarnate God had a mother." (L. P., 83.) Mariolatry is a familiar "reproach on the lips of Protestantsand of Newman himself before his conversion¯ But it is based on a libel.¯ The two ideals of Christ as Mediator and of Mary as mediatrix are perfectly distinct in the minds of Catholics, and there i~" no inter-ference,. between them,. -"He is God m~de low, she is woman inade high.-.When~he became man, He brought home td us His incom-mun'icable attributes with a distinctness which pr~cl~des th~ possi-bilit~ r of lowering Him me'rely by~ Our exalting a creature. He alone has an entrance-into our sou/, reads our secret th.oughts, ~pe~aks to our" heart, applies~ to us ~piritual pardon and strength . Mary is only our, Mother by" divine appointment, given us from the Cro~s: her presence is abgve,,not on earth; her office is external, not within us. Her power is indirect. It is her prayers that av, ail, and her pray-e'rs a~:~ effectual by the tiat of Him Who i~ our all in all." .It is ~rue that Mary occupi~s.a center in Catholic devotion and" worship, but that center is infi.nitely removed from divinity. "~f we placed our Lad~; inthat centre,~ we should only be, dragging Him from His throne, and making Him an Arian kind of God, that is. no God at all." q-?ben followsa ~errible¯ indictment .~gainst his°own contemporaries and those modern Protestants--who accuse Catholics of adoring the Virgin Mother. "He who charges uL" says Newman ~ "'with making Mary a divinity, is thereby denying the divinity of desus. S~ch a man does not know what divinity is." ,(L. P. 83- 85.) Catholic Excesses In thee final part of his lettek. Newman han"dles the accusation 120 ,May, 1952 . OUR LADY'S DEFENDER that devotion to,Mary obscures the dev6tion to Christ. Pro, testants . say that "our 'devotions to-our Lady must" necessarily throw our Lord,into the shade: and there, by relieve themselves of a great deal of trouble. Tl~en they catch at. anystray fact which countenances or. .seems to countenanee,their prejt~°dices. Now I say. plainly, I Tillnever defend or screen any one from' you jus~ r~buke who, through false devotion to Mary, forgets~l~us. ~But I should like the fact to be ,. proved first, I cannot .h~sti.l.y. ~dmit it. ° There is this b~oad fact the o, ther way: --that if we lo0k.~hrough Europe, we shall find, on ~l~e. ¯ whole, that just those nations and countries have lost their faith in the divinity of ChriSt. 9¢hb 15~ve given up devotioia to His Mother, .and that those on t~e other .hand. who had been foremost .in her honour, hav~ re'tained their brtl~odoxy. Contrast, for instance, the Calvinist~ With ~l~e Greeks, orFrance w~th the North~ of,Germany, or the Protestant ~nd Cath~li6'commumons in-Ireland. .In' the- Catholic Church M~ry has shown herself, not the rival, but the min-ister 6f her Son: she has prbtect~d Him. as in His infancyl,soino the whole h~story of theRehg~on. (L. P., 92, 93.) , " ¯ Non-Catholics make much of the fact that Catholic .churches are filled with statues and p~ctures of the Blessed Virgin, that there are so many prayer~ in her honor, that she is given so import_ant a place in-the liturgy. .Newman answers with t.w_o distinctions: first Jris not .true that Mary enjoys rile center of" devotion in.th~ liturgy, and secqndly~ Protestants judge Catholics by themselves when they as-sume that v~hat, should 15e idolatrous ~ or dishonorable, to Christ among the~nselves is also th~ ~ame among Catholics. Thus "when stranger's ar~ so unfa~cora.bly impr(ssed with us, because they see'Im-ages of our Lady in our,,. Churches and crowds floc.king aboht her, . they forget that there "is a Pres~nce within the sacred walls infini'te-ly more awft~l, which claims_ ahd obtains~from us a worsh!p tran-scendently different from any devotion.~'we pay toher. That devotion. might, indeed, tend to'idoiatry, if it were encouraged in Protestant churches, where ~here is nothing higher than it to attract the wor-shipper; but. all the images that a Catholic church ever contained, all' the Crucifixes at its Altars brought together, do not so affect its fie.- quenters,, as the lamp which betokens the p.resence or absence there ol ~the Blessed Sacramer~t." "'The Mass againconveys .tous the same lesson of the sovereignty of the Incarnate Son: it is a return to Calvary, and Mary is scarcely named in it.'" In the same way, Hoiy Commianion, "which is, give~ in the 121 JOHN A, HARDON Review for Religious mor_ning, is a solemn unequivocal act of faith in the Incarnate God, if any be such; arid the most grakious admonitions, did we need one. of Hissovereign and sole right to-possess us. I knew a lady, who on her. deathbed was Visited by an excellent Prote}tant. frieni:l. The latter, with grea~ tenderness for her soul's welfare, asked her Whether herprayers to the Blessed Virgin did not at that awful hour, lead tb forgetfulness of her Sa¢iour. 'Forget Him?' she replied, 'Why. He was just now here.' She had been keceiv!ng Him in communion." (L. P., 95, 96.) Newman had one last and the most difficult rebuttal to make. Pusey had drawn up a list of quotations from various Catholic writers who speak of the Blessed Virgin in terms of extravagant ~a~ection. But this is an unfaircriticism. "Some of your authors." Newman admits. "are Saints: all. I supp6se, are spiiitual writers and holy men: but the majority are of no great celebrity,: even if they bare any kind of ~¢eight. Suarez has no-business among them at all, for, when he says that no one is saved without the Blessed Virgin, he is speaking not of devotion to her. but of. her intercession. 'The greatest nam~ is St. Alfonso Liguori: but it never surprises me to read anything extraordinary in the devotions of a saint." Howeyer. when faced directly with Pusey's quotations.Newman confesses, "I will frankly say that when I read them in your volume, they affected me with grief and almost with angei: for they seemed to ascrib~ to the Blessed Virgin-a power of searching the re'ins and hearts, which is the attribute of God alone: and I said to myself. how can we any longer prove our Lord's divinity from Scripture, if those cardinal passages which invest Him wiih divine prerogatives; after all invest Him with.nothing beyond what His Mother shares with Him? -And how again, is there anything of incommunicable greatness in His death and passion, if He who was alone in the gar-den, alone upon the cross, alone in .the resurrection, after all is not alone, but shared His ~olitary work with His Blessed Mother. And then again, if I hate those perverse sayings so much, how much more must she. in proportion to, her love of Him? and how do we show our love for bet, by wounding her in the very apple of her e.ye? This I felt and feel: but then on the other band I have to observe that these strange words after all are but few in number: that most of them exemplify the difficulty of determining the exact point where tri~th passes into. error, and that they are allowable in orie sense or connec-tion, though false in another. .Thus to say that .pgayeg (~nd. the 122 Mag, ,1952 OUK LADY'S'D~FENDER ¯ Blessed ~ Virgin's prayer) is omnipotent, .is a harsh expression, in every-day prose; but, if it i~ explained':to mean that there is nothing whi_ch~prayer may not 0bta~in from God, it is nothing else than th'e very promise made us in Scrlpture. '. (L-. P., 103, 104.) Pusey's worst accusatlqn was that according to c~rtain Catholic writers devotion to the Blessed Virgin' is necessary for salvation. Newman challenges this statement, "by Whom is it saidthat to pray to our Lady and the SaintsI is necessary to salvation? The proposi-tion of St. Alfonso ig, th~at 'God gives no grace except through Mary, that is through her intercession. But-intercession is one (hing, devotion another." If devotion to the Blessed Virgin were nece~sa[y, then "'no Protestant could l~e saved: if it wereso, there would be -grave; reason for doubting of the salvation of St. Chrykostom or St. Athanasius, or of the ~rimitive Martyrs; nay, I should like to know whether St. Augustine, in all his voluminous writings, in-vokes her once. Our Lord ~tied for those he~ith~n Who did not know Him; and His Mother intercedes for those Christians who do not know bet: andshe intercedeshccording to His will, and, when He wills to sav~ a particular sloul, she at once prays for it. I say, He wills indeed ~ccording to heI, r. prayer, but then she prays according to Hisw ~i"ll .". (L. "P., 105, 106.) " .Newman s Apologetic Method It no exaggeration to say that Newman's Letter to Pusey is'the outstanding work of' Marla, n apologetics written m Enghsh. ~n the ¯ past century. Its stholarship and transparent honesty made it wel-come to those outside the Church. even to Pusey, as he admitted in a letter to Newman. But morI-e important, it gave to Catholics a pro-found analysis of the prinCiples on which their devotion to the Mother of God should be l~as~d. It alsg"gave them an object lesson in the method they should follow in dealing with non-Catholic Christians, with a ~iew to conver. nng them to'the true faith. The method must be a consummate respect for the non-Catholic's sin-cerity, and should recognize that ¯after all ,is s~id and done, faith is a free gift of God to be obtained in answer to humble prayer. Thus in the beginning I ¯ ¯ of his letter, Newman makes ~t clear that he considers the opposition, to. be m good faith. I know, he says, "the joy ~it would give ~hosle conscientious men [Pusey .and/his lol-iow~ rs] to be one with ourlselves. I know how.their hearts spring up with a spontaneous tran what yearning .is I~heirs aft~ ;port at the very thought of union;~ and r that great privilege, which they have 123 SUMMER SESSIONS - not, .communio.n with th~ see of Peter, and.its present, pa.st ~nd fu-ture,."' (L. P., 3.) But~ after all the clafms of ~onscience are settled by reason and argumentati6n, the most important thing is still n~eded. And so in tfi~' last paragraph of his letter Newman c6dclud~s'with a prayer. He asks Go~l to."firing us'all togethkr in unity . to destroy all bitterness on your side and ours.to quench all jealous, sour. proud, fierce an-tago, nism on'our side: and-to dissipate all captious, carping, fastidious ¯ refinements of reasoning on ~'ours.". And finally, "May that bright and gentle L~idy, the Blessed Virgin Mary, overcome you with her ¯ sw, eetness, and revenge herself on.her foes by interceding effectually fo~ their conversion." (L. P.,. 118.) ,.,S ummer Sessions The Department of Religious Education, ,Fordham University, New york, offers gradu.ate courses in the following, branches of"the-ol6gy during the 1952 Summer SeSsion: Sanctifying Grace-by Rev. Elmer O'Brien, S.~3. (Toronto) : the sacraments 6f Penance and Extreme" Unction by Rev. Paul Palmer S.d. (Toronto); Com-m~ andmefits I-IV by R~v. doseph Duhamel. S."3. (Woodstock Col-lege) : Church History by Dr. Donnelly (Fordham) : and Methods of Teaching Religion in High School l~y, Rev. ,l~hn F. Dwyer, S.,I. (Fordham). Each course carries two points of c~edit. Concurrently with the Sfimmer Session. the Graduate School and the School of Education will jointly conduct a FRENCH INSTITUTE FOR SISTERS exclu~iyely. 06 duly 21 and 22, the Division of. Educational Psy-chology, Meagur~ments and Guidance will sponsor its second annual two-davy INSTITUTE ON RELIGIOUS AND SACERDOTAL VOCATIONS. This Institute. will be .held-for the diocesan: a.nd regular clergy, for ¯ ~eligious brbthers and sisters. Its purpose will be to discuss the prol~lems involved in recognizing, encouraging ~ind fostering voca-. tions to the diocesan priesthood and to the religious. "The Summer Session extend~ from duly 7th to August 14th. , For further infor-mation, address the executive .secretary of the Sfimmei Session, F6rdham University, New York, 58, New York. [Additibnal announcemen~s dr'summer sessions are given in~ the March number. pages 95-96. A note for deans of summer schools is given in the ,January -num-ber, page 56. ] '124 Ignat:ian Spirit:u, li y Augustine G. Ellard. | ~NATIAN spirituality is c~iae of.the modern" schools. It acknowl- ~ ]edges itk junior status,¯ u ir~heritance that the oldeafn, ds~.~dlhadolo'lys aonfd' ,C gartahtoefliucl lsyp aircict.euia~lt s',t rtahdei rtiiodnh have put at its disposal Father Eludon, in his St. Iqi~atius. of Loyola, devote~ the whole of ch~ipte, r twelve to showing thal~ just .w.hen he was wo_rk[ng out his own ideas and ideal~ St; Ign.atius °was u'nd.er't.he i~nfluenc~ of a rattier large number of different currents'of spirituality. The two principal instruments of his conversion were the Life of Cbri'st by Ludolph-~of Saxony and the Liues of the Saints by Jac0p? de V'oragine. The' former wa~a Carthusian, and the latter a'Do-mini~ an. Ignatius of(eia thought: "St. Dominic did this., St. FranciSo. that: shc~uld not I also do as they?" fiis a matter of fact, for a time, he thought of becominga Carthusian. His favorite book through-out life was Thomas ~l Kempis: thus he put himself in debt to the Devotlo M~derna" that the B'roth~ers of' the Common Life arid the monks of Wi'ndesheim were. propagating. Th~se three w~rks were majbr forces in.his formation. In addition to these he came under the personal'influence of the Ber~e,dictines at Montserrat, of the Do-minicans with whom he.lived at Manresa, of'th~ Franci~cans, of the Hieronymites, of the C, ister~cians, and probably of others ~llso. "It is the,opinion of at least one man who has made a very Speciai study"bf Igna'tian spirituality, "namely Boeminghaus. that Ignatius 'fused two streams of spirituality'which before him had come down in more or less p~irallel lines .(B,oeminghaus, Die Aszese der "lgnatia~- ischen EScercitien. 10-34). These traditions were those typified by Thomas ~ Kempis and St. Fraficis of Assisi. ]During tl~e later years of ~tbe Middle Ages the~scbool of spirituality ~hat was most fresh and vigqrous was that of the Cbristi~in Renaissance, just referred to under ¯ the Latin name:.tbat it u~ually goes by, n~mel]z, "Dev,0tio Moderna " It m~i~ked a reaction ¯against "excessive speculation--in piety and stressed the supreme importance of beihg 2or.dctical in one's religious life. " In particular, it tended to put more method into the spiritual" life arid especia.lly into the mental pray~r that should animate and vivify it." In a word, one may ~ay that its asceticism was that which we are' all familiar with from the Imitation of Christ. The second stream was the Franciscan. 'It t.aught ~i0uh. souls to . 125 t AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Review for .Reliyious take the~Gospel literally, to seek evangelical simplicity and poverty, to look to qesus in His ,human nature as He really existed in time and place, to respond to Him as a person" with love and dev6tion, to keep unitedowith Him as intimately as possible, and finally¯ to live and Work with Him. Hence vitality, enthusiasm, and personal response characterize it, 'as practical method¯ add earnestness marked the other. Boeminghaus sums u'p his idea in suggesting that, to a gr~it extent, St. Ignatius took his method from the Christian Renaissance group and the content of his system from the Eranciscan tradition, and then united them in his own original way. I.n these pages Ignatian spirituality is taken to include not only the teachin~ of St. Ignatius himself, but also that ofhis order. For the saint's o(vn doctrine the priinary written sources are, besides.his Spiritual Exercises and the Constitutions o~ the.Societal of Jesus, his Spiritu'al JoUrnal and some of his letters. Certain letters are very important and do not always get the attention they deserve by. those who profess to :present his doctrine, especially on mental prayer. Some of the letters, too, are equivalent to liitle didactic tre;itis~s; examples ~ire the.celebrated Epistle on Obedience and the letter on perfection, to the students of the Society at Coimbra (May 7, 1547). The spiritual teaching of the Jesuits is to be found partly in certain official documents, for instance,, letters of the Fathers General, and principally in the numerous published works of Jesuit ascetical and mystical authors. Moreover, Ignatian spirituality is Understood to comprise both that according to which Jeguits themselves try to live, including a certain conception of the ~eligious life, of the ~'ows, and .especially of obedience, and also that which tb?y propose for others who accept their instruction. Of course, it ~s not implied in presenting Jesuit ideals that all Jesuits fully realize them. I, BASIC IDEAS The fundfimental element in any school of spirituality is the theory or set of ideas underlying it and giving it life" and direction. There must be some definite conception, for example, of God, of Christ, of human nature, and of the world. Different initial views on these fundamental realities or their relations necessarily give rise to different attitudes of will and divergent practical principles¯ St. Ignatius's mentality was not at all theoretical. .Hence the genera.1 intellectual outlook in his system is simple and concrete¯ It is 126 May, 1952 IGNATIAN SPIRITUALITY ¯ decidedly, akin to that of the Synoptic Gospels rather than to St. John or St. Paul. It is no~ learned o~-theological, like, for instance, that of the Dominican Fathers or of the French Oratory. God is conceived, mostly as'a great and good king, as a grand monarch on the divine scale. It is emphasized esp.ecia]]y that He is the creator and hence the so~'ereign lord of all. St. Ignatius liked to refer to God as "His Divine Majesty," or "~he Suprem~ Goodness." Among the divine attributes libe.rality is often, singled out for men-tion. God is not thought of as "All in ~all". or as "Prime Mover" or as "the Divine Spouse." Christ, the God-man, is so rich in various aspects that no ,one ~p~erson or group of Hi~ disciples could exhausl them all. Hence different schools of spirituality "emphasize different phases Of the great reality that He i~. One. c6uld consider Him as an adorable divine king sitting at.tl~e righ~t hand of the Fathe.r, surrounded by a heavenly court of angels arid saints, and receiving the homage of prayer and work from devout,men 'on earth. Another could con-centrate attention and affectibn above all on the scenes of the crib and the cross. A third, utilizing the concepts of theology, could make mt~ch of the Word.Incarnate. St. Ignatius sees Christ mostly as the. son of the divine King,*and a king Himself, but with a king-- dom still to be conquered. He is a crusading king, at the head of his army, announcing, his intentions, and inviting men to qolur~teer for service. T.he pecu, liar temper of a school may depend much on how it conceives human nature. To cite"an historical' example.: ancient Alexandrine spirituality took intelligence rather than any other fac-ulty to be the great thing about man and acco{dingly it stressed the place of contemplation in the perfect life. The modernFrench School (Cardinal de B~rulle) is noted for its pessimistic" (onception of human nature and the effects upon it of original sin. St. Ignatius is characterized in this mat.te~ by a certain optimism and voluntarism. Human natuie is indeed sor~ethirig that needs chastening and. training, but basically it is good and to be dev~loped and put to work ¯ in the cause of Christ. If all creatures have their value, a Fortiori humannature has; in fact man is the end and purpose of all other things. Bodily 'strength is not to be diminished by indiscreet aus-terities, but ~o be brought under control and made effective for the service of God. The voluntarism of St. Ignatius .is abundantly illustrated throughout the Exercises; he never ceases to refer'to "what I wish." 127 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Rebiew [or R~ligious ¯ The Ignatian view of the world, too, is°rather distinctive. Un-like many ascetics of old he did not look upon it °as something' evil to be fled from and shhnned.as much as possible. Nor like St. Ber-nard" did he consider it better to avoid creatures than~ to use them. He did not share St. Francis's tender sentiment toward lowly¯ crea-tures as brothe~s¯ and sisters. St. Bonaventure'~ and many holy t - men of the Mi~tdle Ages stressed the fact that all things are likenessesof~ God'and should be looked upon as enlightening us about Him and attracting us to Him. St. Ignatius is more utilitarian and practical. For him everything in creation is a means tO help men to work out .their d~stiny; everything is to' be rega.,rded and treated solely with'. ~" reference to that purpose. , . . .- ~,~ Co[responding to the ideas that one conceives of God and of.m~ will be ond's ideal of pedec[ion, tha't is, what one takes tobe the . completely right relation between God and man. ,Of course, the 'ggod disciple.of St. Ignatius ~uld be entirely submissiv~ to his Cre-ator and Supreme Lord. He would make God's ends-'his own and seek to,achieve them by the means that God prefers. .To the divine libe?ality he also .rdsponds with magnanimous liberality. Enrolled in the apostolic campaigh ~ith Christ, he endeavors to agsociate him-self as closely as possible with hik great leader, to work with Him as effedtiv~ly as~ossible, and to imitate Him in all respects, but espe- "cially in b~aring pdverty and~humifiation nobly. Thus in_ every-thing he strik, es to love and serve the Divine Majesty. He conforms his will altogether to that of God. "What I wish", becomes pre-cisely whatGod wishes. ~ II. LEADING PRINCIPLES " Logically and fiaturally the basic ideas of a system of spirituality, . "in themselves more or less theoretical, give rise to practical principles indicating the appropriate action that should follow. I. The Divine Purpose,~ arid Plan The first and supremeprinciple of Ignatian asceticism, is oto seek the e~d. for which God created one. "Man is created to praise, rever-ence, and serve God our Lord, and by thi~ means'to'sa+e his soul": ~the "First Principle' and Foundation" in the Spiritual. Exercises (23) .1 ' ~Quotations from" the .Exercises ~re from Loui~ ~J. Puhl's'translation; the figure~ re-fer to' the paragraph enumeration introduced by the editors of the critical edition, Madrid, 1 ~ 19. ~ 28 IGNATIAN SPIRITUALITY As God begins,' ~nd we may also add, ends, wi~h a certain definite purpose, so does St. Ignatius, and so too will hi~ disciple. In fact, man is invited to intend just what:"God intends. Between God and man there are to be no cross-purposes. .Moreover and especi,ally, one. should seek, not a .part of what God intends, but all df it, and to work it out always by using, precisely the means and method pre-ferred t~y God: what is'this but to have just the same iglan as God? Praising and referencing God is substantially, the same as.glori-fying Him. -Striving for the greater glory of God, ."Ad majorem Dei. gloriarff," is very .probably. ~vhht th~ name of Ignatius. is most a'pt ~o .suggest to most people who .have some knowledge of him. It is,well known that whenever SI~. Ignatius wrote or dictated he was cofistantly referring to the glory of God[. In the little book of the Exercises the glory or praise of God is p_roposed as.the end no less than thirty-three times.In the C~nstituffons of ttie Society the ref-efence 6ccurs about-135 times in ~2i47 .pages (the" edition of 1937: so Lawlor, "Doctrine of Grace in the Spiritual Exercises'" THEO-LOGICAL STUDIES, 1942, 524). Nor Was the expression always on his lip.s only. Seeking to make God be'tter known and loved" was ever in his thoughts .and aspirations and supremely strong and do}ni-nant among them.- Hence explicit and uninterruptedaiming at. thh' greater glory of God is a conspicuous mark°6t: Jesuit spirituality. A similar and more, or less equivalent idea that .was a great ~avorite with St. Ignatius and Occurs still more frequently is "serv~ ice)' "Locutions such as 'to the greater s~rvice of God," 'to the greate~r service of God and the help of soul~.' andtheir-like, are re-peated 157 times in the Constitutions" (lb'id.). Servin~ God is bf course the same'as Working out His purpos.es or .extending His glory, and it may be said to be central in Ignatius's whole conception of what-man's relations and activities tbward God should be. Some religious leaders wduld'no doubt put prayer or e~en mortification in the, central pl~ace; for Ignatius, everything, "prayer. recollection, self-a. bnega~ion, and so on, mu~t be subordinated to the glory and seroice of God~ Int(hding what God intends, seeking His glory, serv.mg Him~-all this implies the need and use of means. St. Ignatius is broad enough f0 regard all created things as these~mean~. "He is insistent too that they are to be used neither more nor less than in the measure of their ~utility with respe& to,the final end. " In no way or degree are they to .be sought for their.own sake as goals.if, they be pleasant.and attrac- °" " ~ : 129 AUGUSTINE G'. F~LLARD Ret~ieu) for Religious rive, and no repugnance to a useful but disagreeaigle mean~ "is to be allowed to interfere v~ith Using it. To the noblest end the best means is alwa,ys, to be chosen. Hence, another celebrated term and idea 6f Jesuit spirituality: namely, indifference. 2. AssOciation with Christ. A second leading principle in St. Ignatius's system is "'Associate gourself with Christ as closely as possible." or '.'Know, love, and imitate Christ as far as possible." Tb~ divine purpose and plan become more specificaIly the progra.m 6f Christ. All Christiahs of course strive to associate themselves with Christ, or to" know and' love and imitate Him, but not all in precisely the Ignatian.way, that is. in the spirit of "The Kingdom" and tl~e~ "Tw, o Standards." As we have seen. St. Ignatius likes to consider Christ as ;'Our Lord, the .E~ernal K~ing,'" a prince who is"organizing a military ex- ¯ pedition or crusade, to conquer the whole worId and bring it back to loyal" submigsion to itsdivine sovereign. He summons all good men to become recruits in his army, to share his warfare, and then. to rejoice with him in the fruits of victory. Both the royal commander and his soldiers are to live and fight-under the same conditions of toil.-combat. and suffering, that subsequentl~r they. may enjoy the ~same glories of victory together. The motives for enlisting are con-sidered so attractive that nobody with good sense could decline: one v~ould.at least join the expedition as a.common soldier. But with. this degree St, Ignatius is not at all satisfied. In view of the.singularly magnetic qualities.of the Leader and the excellence of His cause, anybody with a spafk of spirit about him will volunter for distinguished service. He will be glad to show. his love and affection by offering himself for deeds of greater value b~yond the call and strict requirement of duty. He will not wait to be attacked, but Will himself take the offensive and carry tb~ war into the enemy's te(ritory .("acting against"), in particular be will first make a perfect conquest of his own interior foes, and a~gres'- sively overcome his own "sensuality and carnal and w0rJdly love." He Will prof.ess himself ready to imitate his great king in bearing humiliations and poverty. It is thergfore, a cardinal principle of Ignatian spirituality that to the summons of Christ the.King,one should respond with all the magnanimity ~n'd generosity that one can muster. ' The eager new recruit soon gets lessons ir~ the basic principles df strategy of his own leader and also ~f the enemy 'chief. These are 130 May, 1952 IGNA'I~IAN SPIRITUALITY presented in the colorful exercise called "A Meditation oh "Two Standards." They are further deve!oped affd enforced in rules for, the discernment of spirits. Lucifer's'tacticsare to be {~nderstood well, and since they are insidious one is ever to be on guard against his deceits. His general ruse is first to seduce men into an inordinate quest for riches and honor, these being indifferent, and then into pride and finally into all vices. The intention of Christ is just the" contrary,~that is, by example and precept He induces men to cultivate" the spirit of poverty, or even actual poverty itself, to conceive "a desire for insults andcontempt," to acquire the. virtue of humility, and thus then to attain all the different virtues. It will be noticed that St." Ignatius 'makes gre, at eff0rys to have his discipline look espe-cially to. t~o aspects of Christ's moral cha~acte), namely, His poverty and His humility. In the Constitutions of his order and in certain of his letters he adds a third great virtue, tha't is, obedience. At least for the mem-bers of'the Societ~ this gets so much emphatic commendation and i,nsistence that it,is in a sense the point in which Jesuits are supposed to specialize. 3. The Third Mode of Humilitv ~The "'third mode of humititg" is so highly characteristic of St. , Ignatius's whole¯ doctrine and so important in itself that it should, it seems,.be proposed ~a third leading principle. It is pre-sented in ~he Exercises as 'the last disposition to be sought in the ideal prepakation of soul to discern and choose the will of God in o.rdering one's.life. It" is also the highest point that one.could re~cb in conquering self, in achieving the victory over one's .disorderly and rebellious impulses, and in-bringing them into that order.which the divine plan and the program of Christ¯req'u!re. In the first mode of humilisy man submits to God in everything that is' of serious, obligation. The second degree disposes one so to submit as to avoid not only venial sin but also every defect of in-difference and hence all positive imperfections (failure to "carry out counsels). In the third. kind" '.'whenever the prfiise and glory of God would be equally served, I desire, and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches, ir~ order toimitate and be in reality more like Christ our Lord,; Icho~se insults with Christ loaded with them, rather than honors; I desire to be accounted as worthless and ¯ a fool for Christ, rather than to be este,emed as w)se and prudent in 131 AUGUSTINE G. ELL~ARD ' Reuieu~ [or Religious thi~:.world. So Chr.ist wastrea~ed before me" (Exqrcise~, 167). In a_ word,, the p~fect associate of Jesus makes himself like,Him~as far - as possible, iriall virttles, but especially, other consideration} being equal, in pove, rty and humility.° l~vidently reverence and love'and dexiotion to Him rango no farther. Practically one'piefers just what, Christ prefers. " " 4. To Love God . - A fourth leading principle in Ignatian spiritual training'is "'in all things to live and serde the Divine Majesty" (Exercises, 233). Eveiy schodl of spirituality, merel~r to be Christian, must keep in the ¯ forefront the primacy of.love: , Some people have b'een, dishppointed that in expr.essing the end for which God created man St. Ignatius did not mention love. True, it is not named ~here: but as surely and as fully as it enters into the divi~e plan and intention, it is ther'e implication. " The constaht desire,.'too, to choose only thatwbich is most conducive tO the end would invol-ie much love" for God. Even. inmeditating upon. hell it is St. "Ignatius's.mind that love should have a certain priority~' one prays :'that if. through my fault~ I fc~rget the love of the eternal Lord, at ieast the fear of.thes~ punishments ~vill keep me.' fr6m falling into sin''~ (Exercises, 65,). Throughotit. the second, third, and fourth weeks of the Exercises the preva.iling general objective is to 'achieve. with an intimate l~nowl~dge and exact imitation, an ardent love for ~he God,man. The. climax is reached in the celebrated "Contemplation to, a[tain the Love°of 'God" (Exercises,- 2 3 O- 2 3 7). , Love shows that it is genuine by '~de~ds rather than. wqrds." It consists especially "in a mutual sharing of goods." 0n-His part God presents us with the whole gamut of creation, the to~ality of Hi~ ~xternhl goods, :and then in addition ':the same Lord desires to give H'imself to~' His beloved "according to His divine decrees."" In graieful and. generous respqnse one breaks Out into the,"Suscipe,'" relinquishing to the great Infinite Lover the complete possession an'd disposal ofoneself. Every word.in this rnagn!ficen~ exercise prepares one to love the ingffable Divine Goodness literally." with all the ener-gies. of one's soul and bod~r and to demonstrate the truth ofonUs affection by.' reall~dciing everything that,¯pleases God and nothing that could.displease Him. Before worl~ing out the ConstituiiOns for his Society~St. Ignatius laid:it dowri as the first principle that it was not any ~xterior regu-lations that were to g~uide the order, but rather the interior law of 132 Mag,1952 IGNATIAN SPIRITUALITY love and charity.tl~tt the~ Holy Spirit inscribes in the human.heart. One of the Society's first rules is tl~at its members shouldstrive in all their acts to serve and plea~e.the,infiniteiy ~oi~d God for His~ own sake and with. a view to repaying His 10ve and His immense li~eralit~ to them. Hope 'for rewar, ds or fear.of.pu6ishment are to,have only as~cbndary~ role. God is to be .loved in all His creatures, and con-versely too they all in Him. ÷ A distinction has been drawn between two philos0phies.of love: 6he. called pb~tsical, emphasizes the tendency of love to base itself'on unity and~to proceed, to ever greater unior~: it is seen for exa~nple, in ¯ the desire to be with one's parents or relatives. The other; termed ecstatic, emphasizes duality or. diviSion and the iffclination in certain cases for a love} to go outside of himself, as it were,.or t6 give him-self up for the sake,of the beloved: it is exemplified in the self-sacrifice. of mothers for their children or of soldiers for their country-men.-. ,Likewise attention has been.called to .two theological concep-, tions of charity: one, that of personal desire, we might, say, considers the act whereby one wills the Infinite Good to oneself to be charity; so, for'instance, St. Bonaventure. The-other, that of pure benevo-lence, regards this act ds belonging to hope and excludes sucb s~If-reference from charity: so"Sdarez; it would love God. Simply and ab~olutely_.for His infihite goodness 6~ ~or Himself. - C6rresponding to these two philosophical and t'.he01ogical views one may digcern two general, ty, pe~ of spirituality;: the .first centers around the direction of seeking greater:union with'God, It would firid Gospel .warrant in the text: "That they ~ill may,be one: that, as Thou, Father. art in M~, and. I am in Thee. they als0 may be one in us" (John 17:21,, Spencer version)¯ It, wbhld lik~ to save its life.' °A mystery of predil.ection for it is the .Ihcarnation. the supreme~ union of God and ma.n. It is illustrated in the li~ds and doctrines of Saints Augustine. Thomas, Teresa John bf the Cross, John Eudes, and many otber~. It makes for contemplation, and would 'likb to "'taste" or "'enjoy': God. The second type of spirituhlity takes rather the direction of self-giving. It gets inspiration from tbe text: "Greater love has no. .one'than this that one should lay down one's life for one's friends" (J~hn 15:13). ILisglad to lose its life ' (Mark 8!35). Naturally the passionand death of Christ are favorite mysteries. M]~,rtyrdom would be its ' great consummation. Repres_entatives of this type are . St.° Fr~in~is of Assisi, Thorhas ~l Kempis, Francis de Sales apparently, AUGUSTI~qE G.F.LLARD " Reoiem (or Religious arid "~ertainly Margaret Mary Alacoque. St. ,Th~r~se/s idea of love Was "to give all, na~, to give oneself!" .Clearly with these latter, exemplifying the ecstatic tendency of love, and the pure-benevolence conception of c~harity, and the self-sacrificihg type of spmtuahty, St. Ignatius and his school are to be ranged'., The whol~ tenor of his spirit, with its climax in the third mode of l~umility, or in serving the Divine Majesty in everything, is not toward union, but service; not toward enjoyment, but sacrifice; not to~vard rest in God, but work for Him (See De Guibert, ~tudes de Th~ologi~ Mystique, 239-281). 5. Union and Familia(it~ u;ith God Finally, a fifth major principle in St. Ignatius's generaI method .concerns umon and [amiliarit~ toith God. He'was wont to formu-late it in some such terms as these: "to seek God in all things"; "to fifid God in all things": to be a-pliable "instrument" in "the divine hand." Ih the Constitutions, IX, 2, St. Ignatius givds a rather long and particularized account of what the ideal general of the Society should be. Naturally this picture is at~tbe same time a characterization.of the Saint himself. Among the qualifications required in a future gen-eral the first is as ~ollows: "that he should be most fully united with God our Lord and familihr with Him. as well in prayer as in all his actions." Similar prescriptions are made for other~ who are to, be appointed to lesser offices (Epitome Instituti,No. 740). Thus the Founder showed his supreme concern that above all else members of the Society Should cultivate the closest and most intimate union withGod. The iarge.place which work holds.in the Jesuit ideal and the re-lations between prayer and work in it are highly characteristic. In no other school, as far as I know. is there so great a tendency, to favor work at th~ expense of prayer. A deep' foundation ofmortifi-cation and solid virtue being presuppos'e.d, from, say, the novitiate, or some similar training and including a thirty-day retreat, praye~r is to be cultivated until one has the proper disposition, that is, the will to love God with all one's heart and to carryout the whole of the divine design for one. Butthen, in view of the grave nedessitles.of souls and the needs of the Church, one should leave prayer and give all one's energies to doing God's work, saving-and.sanctifying men, long ago pronounced to be, of all divin~ things, the divinest. When a man goes about his work precisely as God's, doing just what He 134 Marl, 19 ~ 2 IGNATIAN Si~IRITUALITY indicates, because He Wills it, a'nd in tb~ manner that He wisbes, it is relativel~r easy and natural to pass back and forth between pra~rer and work, Striving to'do God'~ work according to the mind and in the spirit ,of God may be said to be itself not the least f~rm of prayer. Faithful disciples of St. Ignatius are "contemplatives ~in action." To illustrate the union that shoulci exist between one who works for God and God Himself, a favorite comparison of St. Ignatius was that of instrumental adaptation. "l=he .human worker should bea completely pliant instrument in the divine hand. A perfect personal instrument would be fully sensitive and responsive to all the motions of that hand. To give one such instrumental flexibility is, according to St. Thomas, the tendency of the gifts of theHoly Spirit (I, IL 68, 3). The most exquisite docility to the Holy Spirit is a capital aim" in the doctrine of one of the Society's most distinguished spir-itual masters, Ft. Louis Lall~mant. III. DISTINCTIVE PRACTICES Certain practices are characteristic of Jesuit asceticism. Nowadays some of these are more or less universal in the Church. But in origin, or at Ieast in their wide difft~sion, they are due largely tothe influence of Ignatius. I. Spiritual Exerciseg, Retreats perhaps the practice that is most obviously distinctive of those who follow the Jesuit ~chool is that they make retreat~ and attacl~. great lmpor.tange to them. And more pafticulhrly, they do'it accord- . ing to the scheme and sequence of exercises sketched out long ago by the knight-conver~ .at Manresa. The Exercises were'originally cab culated to last for a solid month, and in this in~egral, form they are made by all Jesuit novices and again by young Jesuit priests, toward the end of their training. Other Jesuits regularly repeat them in a condensed form for eight days every year. $6 als.o, for varying peri-ods, .do many who do not belong to the Society and still make use Of ,its.spiritual a.,ids.The numerous students in Jesuit high schools .and, colleges throughout the world.make annual three-day retrea,ts. More-over m.a~y dev0u~ lay men and women make Jes.uit retreats annuall,y. .,.:~.S~.~.Ign.atiu.s himse.l.f did not advocate regular retreats. The cus-tom gradu,~,.lJ;¥.-gre.w in tb, e. Sgciety and w~s made. a-matter of rule only in 1609. ' It is very.!argely due tO Ignatius's influence, directly o~r ~nd~rectly,. that now the practice of making annual or regular re- 135 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD °, Reoie~o [.or 'Retigiotis 'treats is f, oi religious and clerics a point of. canon lavi, and a received~ ascetical usage in the C~hu~ch. . ¯ o , : . .'~ :2. The Particular Examen Another" practice that was originally most characteristic of l~fie Ign~tian approach, is ,the particular examination 9[ conscience. Essen-tially it is :nothing el~e than using in the. war with one's'.faults ~bat ancient priii~iple ot: strategy: "Divide and con'quer!" In'more mod-ern and universal terms one might say that it exemplifies the rule,: "Specialize! 'Concentrate on a .l!m!ted field!" The,particular examen was always a great.favorite with St.-Ignatius. It is now one of tlqe common techniques of Catholic asceticism. Sometimes,. it iS censured by men who concentrate all if/dr strutiny of it upon some minor, de-tail or other .in the method and overlook What is substantiaia~out 'it. On tlqe other harrd, even some ~f the minor features of it have of late been getti,ng ~ommendation from scientific psyc.hologists. . 3. Directi6n A~ third practice.that is distinctive in its way of I~natian spir-ituality is its idea of direction. S't. Ignatius considered it especially useful,, if-nbt, necessary, to prevent one from ~alling victim to the illusions that may come either from one's own imagination and ~mo-tions 0~ from the deceits and snares of the evil spirit. As compared with (h~ older school~, Stl Igna'tiu~ advocates., if I mistake not, a more thorough-going and a more.methodicM'u~e of it. On the .other hand. he did not employ it like St. Francis de Sales or others in seventeenth-century France. The Exercises were originally designed ¯ to be made individually with a private and.experienced director and the exercitant was'urged to be very frank and open with him. In the Societyit is expe'ct~d that subjects should make themselves, even their innermost co~nsc.iences, all their good and bad points; culpable or in-culpable, fully known to their superi6rs orconfessors and in return . receive individual~pat~nal guidance. Any eager adherent of 3esuit asceticism will, if possible, seek constant expery direction from an-other in the problems of his in(erio~ life. Complete candor of soul and docility toward a director or supe,rtor fit in very' well with cer-tain qualities of character that wer.eparticularly dearto St. Ignat!us: namely.his preferences for mortifitation that is interior, of judgment and will; for prudence, humility, discipline, and obedience. 4. Mental Pra~er " " An~ outs.tanding, mark of any system of asceticism is its doctrine 136 May, 19~ 2 [GNATIAN SPIRITUALI~'~ on prayer. If one compares the' modern theory and practi~e of.p~aye.r with the.ancient or the medieval,' One will n~tice great differences in the relative positions of vocal ~nd m~ntal prayer. T.he cha~g~s had been coming of. necessity inthe historical evolution of the spir~itual and the religious life. In determining the. actual extension.anti fO~m" that they have taken since" the sixteenth centu.ry th~ ,influence of St. Ignatiu~s, direct or indirect, was a major factor. In making the Exercises and then later irl striving "to arrive ~at perfecti6n in whatever state or way of life God our Lord .may gra.nt. us to 'choose';- (135), it is ~onkidered most {¢ital that one's koUl' should be illled with "the iiatimate understaqdjng and rql~sh'of the" ¯ great Christ~ian truths (2). Often. eno~ugh pegple refe~ to the first ineth~d of mental, prayer ifi th~ Exercises:, ~h~ on~ ~here named from '~tiSe thr~e powers .of the soul," fi's "'the.Ign'atian method." As a matter of fact, in that little-booklet the Saint proposes at least six methbds, and thi~ c~ne,0used for the consideration of abstract truths, is almost immeasurably out-numbered by the ~'qontefiaplations," according ~o persons, words, ~nd actions, that deal especial,l~ with the life and pa~ssion of Christi o Except.~when misconceived by ill-informed critics or misu'sed by ignorant persons, Ignatian methods of prayer do not hinder liberw of spiri~ or stand in the~ w~y bf ~he Hgly Ghost:s irispiration~s. It is the most rudimentary¯ principle of ,Jesuit spirituality to keep the ~na clearly, in: mind, to preserve lib.erty with respect to the mearts, and, to select and use the most apt .of the means. Even in the Exercises/writ-ten qspecially for beg)nners.to aid them in the. specific and passing task of rightly d~t~rmining their vo.cat.ion, the admonition is given: .It "should be noted:. I will remain quietlymeditating upon the point in.which I have found what I desire, without e?gerness~ to go on till I. have finished"-(76). And again later on: "If in contempl~- ~tion, say., on the Our Father,he finds in,one or two words abundant -matter forethought and much relish and consolation, he should not b~.anxious to go on,~though the whole hour be taken t~p with what he has found" (254)., Incidyntally; one.may notice that thus from the start St.~Ignatius promotes the tendency to pause in contempla-tion rather ~h:in to busy onesel, f with discursive or analytic reflections: Outside of retreat time ,Jesuits and their followers may and should cultivate those'$orms of mental pra~er, including'the?highest "degrees of cqnteml~la~tion, that will: most effectively advanc~ them in loving God'and in.execating His d.~signs. Naturally,. off course, .th~ . / AUGI.JSTINE G. ELLARD Reoiew for Reliqious prayer of aposto!ic workers will differ from that of cloistered Carme-lite nuns. Similarly 'the'inspirationsof the Holy spirit will be in harmony with one's divine ~;oc~tion, nbt coiatrary to it. St. Ignatius was a great mystic himself, as his Spiritual dournal amply attests. In others asa rule he looked to solid virtue 'and mor-tification rather" than exalted'st'ates of prayer. If we may generalize" , from a letter to Francis Borgia while the latter was still the Duke of Gan~ia, that form of prfiyer is to be considered-best in which divine ¯ favbrs are received most liberally: "The .best thing for each particu-lar person is that in which God our Lbrd communicates Himself most freely, bestowing His most holy gifts and "s'piritual graces, be- ;cause 'He sees and knows what is most suitable fo~ him, and, asguring of His gifts. F6r."strengtb is madeperfect in weaknesk." "He scattered the proud in the co'nceit of their hearts.", and "the rich He sent a~ay empty." ." If'we reflect:but a .little we.soon learn that convent eficl0sures are not necessarily a barrier to Gdd;s d~signs. While'furnace walls con-taih ~he raging fire~ within them. they_do not prevent the heat from going out to the objects roond about. While'they contain, they also protect; and by pr0tecting,~they enable the heat to b~ intensifie~l., Cloist~r has a purpose m ways the sam~. Within its shelter religiofis can protect and intensify their ,knbwlei:Ige and their love of God. ~Should this love become lively enPugh, its influence will flow out beyond the convent walls ifito the minds of other men. Jhst as'in the natural organism"the hidden organ's make thei~ inflhence' felt in different ways throughout the whole boffy so i'n .the organism which is the.Mystical Body of Christ._ the hidden organs to which, among others,, we. may liken the lives and work'of religious, advance and consolidate .the "b~ilding .upof the Body :of Christ, until we all at-tain to the unity of the Faith and of the deep Kr~6wledge of the Son of ~od, to.perfect manhood, to the mature measure of the. fullness of Christ". (Eph. 4: 12). And, in truth, if each religious in every mon-', aste?y throughout the world, burned according to the measur~ 0f.his grace," with an intense love of the Sacred Heart and with a desire" to repair the outrages heaped against that love, he could surely hope to ¯ find ~n" the world about h~m. instead of doubt greater, faith m God's 149 MI~HA'EL 3. LAPlERRE \ truth, instead of degpai,r greater hope in God's promises, instead of hatred greater love for the Person of the Word Incarnate. If the Sacred.Heart, by the choice of a contemplative, as the mis-sioner of this d~votion, intended to point out to religious," that ' He expected to find~ in them devotees of His Truth and dyrlamos bf His Love, He certainly, wl~ile giv.ing us cause for joy in such a. compli-ment, made it clear to all, that He felt greatly disappointed in His expectations. For in His fourth appearance to St. Margare~ Mary, He made this complaint to her, "Behgld this Heart which has so loved men that it has spared nol~hing but has been poured out .totally and has been consumed as a pro.of of its love; and for gratitude, I receive from the greater part of men only ingratitude by their acts of irreverence and by the coldness, and the conte.mpt they ha~'e for Me in this sacrament of Love. But what touches roe closest is that the very hearts which are consecrated to roe act thus." It is a smarting, rebuke; it stings to the quick .the'person conse-crated to Jesus Christ. And each of us, if I' may dare to spdak for each; may strike his breast humbly confessing With th'e publican, "'Lord be merciful to me'a sinner." Yet this is not a reason for dis- .couragement. While we are aware that the Sacred Heart,expects to find in His chosen soflls a cradle for the growth and a beacon for the shining of'His love, we, mindful of our emptiness, may take to heart th~ese other words to St. Margaret Mary, "And for the accomplish-ment of this ~reat design, I have chosen you as an abyss of u~awortbi-nes~ and ignorance, in order that all should be wrought by Me." If. we can do nothing else,, we can,with divine grace, try to see ourselves as we are and gladly permit the Sacred Heart to inflame our souls. with His divine Love and to radiate through them into the minds and hearts of men too easily forgetful, amid their works and worries, of His Divine Presence. If we open our hearts to Him, the Sacred Heart will do the Jest; if we do this little, we shall do much. "Amen I say to you this poor widow has put in more than all those who bav~ been putting money into the treasury.For they all have put in out of their abundance; but she ,out of her want' has put in all that she badd' (.Mark 12:43.) OUR CONTRIBUTORS MICHAEL J. LAPIERRE. a new contributor, writes from the ,Jesuit Seminary, Toronto, Ontario. AUGUSTINE (3. ELLARD, professor of ascetical and mystical the, ology, and EVERETT 3. MIBACH, a, former missionary from China, are at St., Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. dOHN A. HARDON teaches ,fundamentai theology at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. dOSEPH F. GAL-LEN, who teaches Canon Law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland, con-. dudes his series on the Quinquennial Report in this issue. 150 The, Qu!nquennial .Report: Obligatiohs and Directives !11. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. ¯ " IX. A~breuiating and Prolonging the l~ostutanc~ . t!~iVi~.AS th6 time assigned by. the common law (c. 539) or by W' the Constitutions for the postulantship abbreviated or prolbnged: if so. for bow long a time and by what authority?" Pontifical. 147: Diocesan, 134: Independent Monas-teries. 74. " The law of the Code demands the postulancy only for li.~eity and not for the validity of either the noviceship or the professions. By the common law of the Church the postulancy is demanded only. in ins{~tutes of perpetual vows. in which all religious women but in institutes of men only-the lay brothers are obliged to make a postu-lancy of six months. The particular constitutions may and fre-quently do prescribe postulancy in institutes of perpetual vows for the classes of religious not obliged to the postulancy of the Code. for example, teaching brothers. The constitutions may also prdscribe a postulancy longer than six months. This is rare.ly done. Thus one congregation, whose constitutions were approved by" the Holy See in 1937, has a postulancy of a yea.r. This postulancy can be prolonged for six months. The noviceship in t, his institute- is two years in duration. Another institute has a postulancy of nine months, but it can be pro.10nged for only three months. The duration of the postulancy prescribed by canon law is com-puted in the same way as the.canon'ical year of noviceship. Therefore, a pgstulanc.y of six months that begins on 3anuary 1 ends and the noviceship may be begun on July 2. Any considerable abbreviation of the postulancy is .forbidden. However. rgligious superiors may for a jUSt reason abbreviate the postulancy, for a few days. The usual reason will be that all the postulants of a group may receive the l~abit and be~in the noviceship on the same day. It is d.ifficult t6 see how th~s abbreviation permitted to religious superiors can be longer tl4an two weeks. For a more extended abbreviation recourse is to be made to the. APOstolic Delegate. Higbe( superiors also have the right ofprolonging the postulancy but not be~rond six months. Here ai~o an extension.of a ~ew d. ays 151 JOSEPH F. GAL~LEN Reviet~'for°Religi~u~ m'ay be-made that all the p0s~ul~nt~ 0f a gro, up may b~egin' the novice-. ship ~n the.same day. Outside of this case I believe that the reasons for a prolongation, of the postulancy-must be peculiar to an indi- ~'i~tua!, and the reason will ~ractically alwaysbe a doubt of the suit-. ability of the postulant for admission to the noviceship. ~ greater .- liberty is permitted to the higher'superiors .it the constitutions pre-scribe a duration of, "at least six months." However, When the con-stitutions enact precisely that. "the prescribed time of the postu-fancy is six months," I believe ii is illicit to exte'hd l~he posttilancy annually and.for all postulants ~o nine months or more, for ~xample, that all may. complete a scholastic year ,of studies during the postu-° lancy. A law whose observance is cominonly and.habitually not en-forced is an anomaly. A human law admits an excuse and dispensa- . tions in parti~ula, r cases, but piesumably a law tends to l~he Common good and is therefore to be at least commonly observed. The H01y See in approving constitutions, is now wont to insist that the dura-tion be stated as-six months and riot for at least six ~nonths. This is an md~cat~on that the Holy See does not, wish the-duration of the postulancy to be ,cornpietely under (he" contiol of higher.super!ors. Another indication of the mind Of the Holy See is that.the Norma~ of 19~1 permitted a prolongation only in' particula, r cases)s Fur-thermore, the prolongation of a determined postulancy, even in an individual case, for thesake of siudids seems to me to b6 beyo~nd th~ power.0f prolongation granted bythe Code to higher supe[iors. believe it is~the implicit intention of the Code that the reason for the pr01'ongation should be a doubt as to the postulant's suitability for admission to the novic~ship: It is not to be forgotten that a postu-' lant who has satisfac~torily completed the time of a determined postulancy has ~ulfilled all the donditions demanded from.him by law for admission to the noviceship. Is it like'ly, that highel superiors are acting legitimately in postponing that admission? An extension of the postulancy 'for studies in'the case ofeither an individual or a group demands a dispensation from,the competent authority. If the higher superiors of an institute inten,d to make such. an extension a .Pe[mandnt practice, they should give" thought to ~'change. in this article of the cbnstitutionsl We then have the anomaly of a law that no one obsdrves .or dntexids to observe. Not all canonists will agree with these interi~retations. Thd Apostolic Ddlegate,has the faculty of abbreviating or prolo.n'ging,thi postulancy prescribed by the Cod~. ~SNormae Secundum Quas S. Congr. Episcoporum et Regularium Procedere Solet in Approbandis novis Institutis Votorum Siraplicium, 28 iun. 1901, n. 65. 152 . May'~ 1952 "QUINQUENNIAL REPORT It is certainly; illici~ to -prolong the noviceship o for ,the" sake ,of studiets. Canoii 571, § 2 explicitly demands a doubt of the suitabil-ity of the novice "for" profession as the reason fora prolongation, of the novlceship. It is equally illicit, without an induh from the Holy See, to transfer the canonical.year to the second year.of no~riceship for th~ sake of studies. '" The, adtual cases discussed above are indications of a ~ider and more serious problem that should be faced by many cong~egatio.ns.of brothers and sisters, that is, are'they unv~isely lessening the period of,' spiritual form~ation for the sake.bf~ a more rapid,intellectual training? Cahon lair does not forbid a'fo~mal and intensive course of ~tfidies during the postulancy and the ~econd y~ar of noviceship, but it.would b~ very imprudent.to assume that every~hihg not forbi.dden by posi-tive law is by t, hat. v, ery fact praiseworthy. The Code-also does not, command nor recommend ~uch a course and it implicitly forbids a -course that destro~rs or seriously impedesthe p.rimary purpose Of the pqstula~y and, especially.of the second year. of noviceship. It can be doubted that a~full college ,course is compatible with the intensive dedication to sp, irit-uaYthings that i~ ~the primary purpose also of the second year of noviceship. It see~as strange that this.year of novice-ship: which has been introduced by some institutes to)give a deeper spiritual formation, should l~e so ~ompletely de;coted to s, tudies. Con-gregations of brothers and sisters should sincerely face a. very impor-tan. t question: has the, factual system of only one yea'r Of inten~iv~ spiritual formation' produced satisfadtory resufts? . X, Poverty '-'Is a perfect-.common life acc6rding to c. 594-. the RUI~ and the C0nstltut~ons, observed everywhere, but ~specialIy .in novitiates and house~ of studies ~(cc. 554 § 3:587 § 2)? "W.hat has beeh done' and-is being donne positively. to'safeguard andpromote .,th~ vibtue ~and sp)rit 9f poverty ? "Do Superiors and officials, out of, religious charity and in order to ward off. for. the religious o.cc'asions, of .sinning against pgverty, provide within the limits of poverty, "wha~ is necessary and appro-priate, in the'way df food, clothes and~othe~ things? " "Do they allow the religious to ask for or receive these. ihings from externs ? "Are there complaints about these things; are these complaints seriously considered, and are a~uses on the part of Superiors and sub-° jects alike'corrected with, equa! severity?''~. Pontifical, 206-210: Di- 153 JOSEPH F: GALLEN " Reoieu; f,o'r Rdigioua" ocesan, 189-193: Independent Monasteri_ed, 117-120. . Poverty in all its aspects of the vow. of law, especially of com-mon life, and ot~ Spirit has been repeatedly emphasizedand explained in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. This policy is, only. an imitation of ,that of the .Church and is sanctioned by the experience and wisdom of the ages, which have always seen the deterioration of religious in-stitutes forewarned by the symptom of 'a weakene.d poveriy. It is most interesting to note that only 6ne'of the que.s.tions listed ¯ above, and that only partially, the third question, directly touches the vow of p.overty One is on the spiri~ of poverty, tiredall the other four are on the laws of common life. The great.source, of abuses in poverty is in the neglect of the laws on common life. Since so much has been written on poverty in this REVIEW, it will suffice to underline again the matter of the fourth question, "Do they allow the re.ligious to ask for or receive these,things from externs?" ¯ The law on common life on this point prescribes ,that religious should at least habitdall~ and ordinarily procure their, material neces-sities from their own institute. This law does not forbid a religious from receiving an occasional and exceptional free gift of such a neces-sity, provided this is done with permission, .the proprietorship apper~ tains to the institute, and the quantity¯and quality do not exceed what would have been given by the institute. The reasonableness of this law is evident. No spiritually sanereligious will.hold that the "degrees'of pove.rty are proportioned to the wealth of our families and friends.¯ ¯However, it is not unthinkable that some superiors have given permission for such things as vacations, vacanons at home, -trips, and courses of studies, "'provided ~l?u get the. money.'" An ancient law of the Church commanded that a monk who was found at death in possession of a notable¯ amount of money should be buried outside ihe .monastery, in a dunghill as a sign~ of perdition, and that his money should be buried with him. We can be assured that this law has been abrogated: it belongs to the ages~of mote masctiline and prlm~tlve penance¯ We can, however, neglect the ~sperity but lmltat.e the vigor of this law by burying in oblivion that ill-sounding per- .mission: "You may do it, provided~dou get the"roone~j." XI9 Vacations at Home andoutside the Institute "Is it allowed by reason or under color, of a vacation, that time b~ spent with one's parent,s or outside a house.of the Institute?" Pontifical, 2~4; Diocesan, 244. ¯ The implication of this question is not to deny a vacation to reli- Mag, 195Z QUINQUENNIAI~ ]:~EPORT gious. It can even be doubted that the summer program, of many religigus permits, the vacation they should have and need. Canon 606 § 2 forbids religious superigrs to permit rtheir subjects to live outside a house of-'their own'institute except for a serious reason and for as brief a period of time as possible. The pro, per place, therefore[ for.the rest- that religious, need is a vacation house of the institute it-self. Prudence more than commends the principle that r~ligioils should work for seculars but.relax wi~h their own. We can detect in the question quoted abovea fr6wn and perhaps the beginning of ascowl at vacations at home and outside the insti-tute. The same lack of merriment had been noticeable in the writings of canoni~ts. Father Creusen, S.J., had written: "The constitutions which permit' the. spending of vacations With one's fdinily are not. ocleaHyabrogated by this canon (can. 606, § 2)."19 The most ben!gn interpretation .could not construe these words as laudatory. The same author had also stated: "Although a certain amount ofstrictness in. forbidding visits to one's, family may at first stir up. ~ome resistance on the part of.relatives, it is usually a source of great edification, pre- .,serves religi6us from numerot~s, imperfections and faults, and draws to the institute souls desirous of a truly interior life.''20 In this strict-ness he was s.upported by Bastien.21 ¯ Three most repiatable canonistsl Vermeersch,'22 Coronata?3 and De Mees~er24 hre even stricter. They hold that vacations at home are in themselves~'foreign to the religious state but the difficulty of abolishing the practice is a just reason for tolerating a very brief.absence of this kind. This question of the. Holy See can lead us to a more sincere and prayerful study of the text: "If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother . he cannot be my disciple." All religious know that these wdrd~ dan be interpreted too harshly; not all are equally aware, that they can be interpreted too s6ffly. Vacati6ns at home and outside the in-stitute ase forbidden by the law of common life if they ar~ given only to those who can secure the money, from their families or friends. XII. Work and t.be Spiritual Life . "DoSuperiors carefully see to it that. {he work of teaching be pr6perly harmonized with religioudsls "ciphne? Pontifical, 303 ; Diocesan, ~283. ~gCreusen-Ellis, R61igious Men and Women in the Code, n. 292, 3. 20Creusen-Ellis, ibid., n. 29f, 2. "- 2~Bastien, Directoire Canonique, n. 592, 4. 22Vermeer¢ch-Creusen, Epitome Iuris Canonici, I, n. 763,~ 1. 23Coronata, Institutiones Iuris C~nonici, I, n. 612. ?4Br~s, Juris Canonici Compendium, I, n. 661. 155 ',JoSePH F. GALLEN. ¯ " :Re~vie~w for Religtous. 'The aspect, of work that causes the most exte'nsiye, practical ob- , stacle to religious disc.ipline-is 6verwork~. The dail¢, teaching sched~- ule of brothem and sisters in "parochial ,and high., sc~hgols is sufficient labor in itself. ~,Vhen extracurrici~lar and parish activities andworks, ¯ extension and' summer cburses, vacation schools, and domestic duties in the ~eligious house are added, the burden .is more tl~an intolerable and will leave.°very little energy and even time for the spiritu~l life. Som~ Bishops in their didcesan statutes touch this. very pr~a~ical matterof work'incompatibie with the life and duties of sisters. ,The statutes of C~66kston0 enunciate the basic prificiple-very clearly: :'Neither ~ill SiSters. be permitted to do any church or parish work ~- without the permission of, the Bishop. Let i~ be borne in mind that their fieed all time possible to perfect themselves in their sa~red pro.'- fession of teaching, nursing, and caring for orphans, apart' from thei~ ~eligio~s exercises and necessary relaxation.''2s~ Th~ .wording of this law would exclude all housework, all duties of clerks and stenogra-phers in the .rect~ory, and also the. position of sacristan ifi parish ~hurches. Thediocese of Richm6fid affirms more briefly the sa~e principle as that contained in,.the. Crook;ton legis.lation.26 The' . Pitts.burgh statutes" forbid a sister, wi.thout the, perm.issibn of the. Bishop, to be a sacristan, jan.itress, or to do any servile work in s~ic~ risties, sanctuaries, orchurches.2~ The statutes of Cincinnati also forbid sisters' to be sa~'ristans in parish chfirches.28 A very conspicuous source of work that interferes with the reli-gious life and with teaching in institutes.of religious women is the addicti6n to domestic duties. The lustre of. flobr and furnitu?e ~ shou.ld not,be ranked as the primar.y purpose of a convent. It is hardly reasonabl~ to dust the dustless or to polish" the lustrgus. The r~ligious teacher in her free., moments shotild naturalist gravitate to prayer, study, and readi~ag, but it.is not an exaggeration to state that ~n s0me.institutes of religious women .domestic duties are very apt to exclude free moments and toconsume free moments. .The time as-si~ g~{ed to prep'aration for class endangers good teaching and excludes progress in knowledge. The excessive occupation in manual work can be rooted blindly ~in°the traditions and training of the particular institute. It. begiiis in the post,ulancy and novicesh, ip. Many a young ¯ girl enters religion thirsting for sanctity but she soon acquires a spir- 2SCrookstdn, p'. 26. 26Richmond, ~n. 188. 2vPit.tsburgh, n. 64. 28Cincinnati. p, 82. 156 May, 1952"J ', QUINQUENNIAL REPORT itual throat that is forever parched b~" a. riovi~eship spent i_na.laundry, Safictit9 is not encouraged¯ when (l~e greatest emphasis and praise is given, to th~ accomplishme.nt of the dustless floor,' the gleaming chair, and to skill in 6perating a dishwashir~g machine. An institute of religious women can not only ~blind but als0 cheat itself. It can be, conten~ with a mere legalistic observance of the laws on the (anonical year. The ¯postulants and isecohd~year novices are v~ithout scrfi°ple .completely occupied in studies. ,The canonical novices are kept With-. in the novitiate, but ~lSe.y are employed for half¯ the week in ~a l~iundry or in similar dombstic duties andothey receive very litt'le instruction. The net result is a savin~ df expense andl the p.roduction of pc~orly trained religious. The'Cash balance is "in the bl~ick," but the human balance is-"in the. red." , Materi.al debts ar~ a heavy bhrden to r~li- ~ious institutes but they are ultimateIy paid. " A great, practical truth that ~eligi~us institutes should never, forget, is that human liabilities are on our books until their death. Higher superiors should sincerely arid ¯conscientiously reflect on the. constant principle of ~he Holy See in appro~ving constitutions that novices may not be employed in do- " mestic duties toan extent that interferes with. the prescribed' exercises' of the novic~eship. A primary obligatibn-of every'higher superior is the proper training of' the .postulants and novices. XIII. Communication o~ the Pro~essed with ihe Novices . ¯ ~'Are the novices, according to law.and the Constitutions. kept separate from the professed, and is any undue communication be-tween them tolerated (c. 564. §§~1, 2)?'-' Pontifical. 1-66; Diocesan. 153; Ind.ependentMon~s.teries, 87. Ihdependent monasteries and, religious °houses are l~ractically;con- .fined to orders of nuns. So~me of the questions proposed to the'se in-stitutes.' such as the difficultie~ experienced in the observahce of cloi-ster and the ability of the monastery to ha~ecompetent officials for the various posts of government, religious formation, and ~vcork are of general interest. H6wever. these matters now appertain more to a study of the apostoli~ Constitution "Spobsa Christi. Canon law forbids communication between the professed and the novices in all institutes, and one of'the ques, tion.s, proposed.also to independent monasteries, asks whether this law has been observed. A, professed in the sense of the Code is one who has made at least the first_religious,profession.' The professed .of ~,tern~.porary vows, eyen' , though they may be called .novices" in some instituters, 0canonically a~e not nowces but professed rehgmus. They are therefore ~forbidden to 157 JOSEPH F. GALLEN RevieW'for Religio~s. have communication with the novices. It will be interesting to see what the Sacred Congregation will do about ~he usage that is found, e~pecially in independent mon0steries, of treating th~ professed of temporary v:ows as novices and of keeping them with the novices for the entire period of temporary profession. TEN'YEAR INDEX--NOW AVAILABLE ' The Teri-Year Index of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (1942~ 1951) is now,available. It is a green-covered booklet of sixty-four pages including a general index with a.n integrated listing of all ar-ti'cles, authqrs, editorial comments, questions, and answers, communi.- cations, decisions of the Holy See and other items of interest to reli-gious, and a separate index of all books reviewed and noticed. The engries in the content index have been grouped according to subject matter, for instance, admission to religious life, beatifications', con-fession, indulgences, mariology, novitiate, . poverty, vocations, vows, and the like. All the articles of an autho'r are listed beneath his name. We appreciate the ~nerous response we have already received and. the encouraging ~omments. Kindly do not ask us to bill you. The, cost is one dollar per copy. Pleas4 send the money with the order to REVIEW F~)R RELIGIOUS, St. Mary's College, St. Mar, ys, Kansas. UNIOUE SCHOLARSHIP The "Walter Springs Memorial S~holarsl~ip," "at-Regis College, Denver, seems to be something truly unique. Walter Springs, a Negro student .of the early 1940's[ died a victim of race prejudice while in the armed forces in thi~ country. While at Regi~ he was a good student, a splendid athlete, very popular with the st_u'dent body. He was a convert, baptized in the Regis chapel. Some of his classmates .recently decided to perpetuate his memory with a s~holarship--~ *dual scholarship which each year will take care of one Negro student and on4 white student, "s~pplying each with books, tuition, board and room, and whatever other expenses are neces- PLUS Xll ON THE RELIGIOUS LIFE An English translation'of the address of the H'oly Father.to the First Congress of Religious at Rome, December 8, 1950; which was summarized by Father De Letter, .S.3.; in his article, "Contemporary Depreciation of the Religious Lif~" .(R.EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 3anuary; 1952), is given in the April, 1952,-number of Life of the Spirit. This magazine can be obtained from Blackfriars. Publications,~ 34 Bloomsbury Str~'et, London, W. C. 1,.England. . ¯ .158 .Ques!:ions andAnswers Our chapter has voted ÷hat we should now fake solemn vows accord-' ing'÷o ÷he prescriptions of "Spo~sa Christi." Are ~he minority wh~ did not wish ÷o assume ÷his privilege bouffd to fake solemn vows with ~'he rest? ¯ Similarly, are ÷he lay Sis÷ers wffh perpetual vows, ~s well as ÷hecholr Sis-ter~ wi÷h ÷empor~ry vows who h~d no p~r÷ in the election, bound .~'o ~÷~ke solemn vows, or m~y provisions be mede for those who prefer if, to con-tinue ~ith dmple vows? Fi"rst. it may b.e~ well to call a'ttention to the text o~ the general statutes of the Apostolic Constitution. "Sponsa Christi." Article 3. § 2: "All.[monasteries in which 0nly simple.vows are taken can ob-tain a r~storation o~ solemn vows. Ifideed, unless trul~ grave reasons prevent it, tl~e~ will be solicitous about tal~ing, them again." These words do not contain a permission to take solemn vows without more ado, but theF extend an ~nwtanon to such communities to re-quest the ~avor ~rom'the ~oly See through the' Sacred Congregation o£ Religious. Naturally, tb~ first step will be to ~nd out the ff~ind o~ the communitF by a vote o~ the chapter, I~ that proves ~avorable. then a petition should be sent to the Hol~ See through.the local'or-dina~ y of the monastery, requesting permission to take solemn vows. The permission is granted under the ~ollowing conditions, taken ~rom a recent decree to that effect: 1. "In the a~oresaid monasterF, the nuns, °having first made temporar~ vows according to the norm 8~ canon 574. may take s~olemn, vows. 2. "The papal, cloister, as prescribed by the Code o~ Canon Law and by the Apostolic Constitution 'Sponsa Christi' and the In-struction of the Sacred Congreganon o~ Religious 'Inter. Praeclara' (ofNovember 23; 1950), should be observed. 3. "When all these circtlmstances have been provided for, the local ordinary, either personall~ or through a delegate, can in the name o~ the HolySee receive the solemn vows o~ the superior o~ the m0naster~; she, in turn,.can recmve the solemn pro~ession o~ the otbe~ nuns, provided they have.been professed for at least three,years.' 4. "If any of the present membdrs of the community wish not [to oblige themselves by sdlemn yowls.,, they are free to 'remain v~ith simple vows, but they must realize that they are nevertheless bound 159 QUE.STIONS AND AI~SWERS . . Reuieu.; [or Religio/us to a strict observance of all the lhws of papal cloister. 5. "Extern Sisters, having completed their period of ter~porary vows, are tc~ be admit'ted 6nly to simple perpetual vows. 6. "Finally, it is committed to N.N. (the local ordinary) to p~blish, this decree in the monastery of N.N. once he is certain that the required conditions have beew fulfilled. A document attesting -to the publication "a~nd execution of this decree is to be_preserved in . the archives of' the monastery, and a copy of that document is tO be sent to this Sacred Congregation." No comment is needed since the document Sl~eaks for itself, We maynote, however, that the opening~words of n. 4: "if any of the present, members of. the community." seem to imply~ tha~ all futu're members will be obliged to take solemn vows. " A religic~us who is suffering f~om. gastric, ulcers must ~'ake medicine during the nlght~ How can he oBtaln'a dlsp~ehsafio~ from the ,eucharistic fast so that he mayreceive H

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

Issue 12.6 of the Review for Religious, 1953. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious NOVEMBER 15, 1953 Pracfice Of ÷he H01y See, I I . Joseph F. Gallen Psychological Testing . William C. Bier The Eucharistic Fast . : . Hi~ary'R. Wer~s MOfU Proprio Jubilee . c.J. McNaspy Communications Questions and Answers News a'nd Views Book Reviews Index for 1953. VOLUME XII NUMBER 6 RI::VII::W FOR Ri::LIGIOUS VOLUME XII NOVEMBER, 1953 NUMBER CONTENTS NEWS AND VIEWS . 281 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE, II--Joseph F. ~Gallen, S.'J .2.8.5 BOOK NOTICES . 290, 316, 329 LETTER ON OBEDIENCI~ . . . 290 PSYCHOLOGICAL TESTING OF CANDIDATES AND THE THE-OLOGY OF VOCATION---Willlam C. Bier, S.J2.91 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 304 THE EUCHARISTIC FAST---Hilary R, Werts, S.J . 305 MOTU PROPRIO JUBILEE--C. d. McNaspy, S.J . 317 COMMUNICATIONS . 321 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 29. Correction of Subject by Immediate or Mediate Superior 322 30. Guidance of Subjects by Superiors . 322 31. Local Superior at Council Meeting . 323 32. Local Superior at General Chapter . 324 33. General Council and Suggestions to General Chapter . 324 34. Postulancy and Readmission . ." . 325 BOOK REVIEWS-- Religious Men and Women in the Code; Fundamental Psychiatry; Most Reverend Anthony 'j. Schuler, S.J., D.D.; I Want to See God 326 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 330 INDEX FOR VOLUME XII, 1953", . 333 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 1953. Vol. XlI, No. 6. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May,,July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas,, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter 3anuary 15, 1942 at the Post Oflke, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Jerome Breunig, S.J., Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Copyright, 1953, 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 wrlfing to us, please consult notice on Inside back cover. News and Views Psychological Testing When we last published an article on the psychological testing of candidates, a religious superior wrote an indignant letter cancelling his subscription and asserting that such testing interferes with the work of the Holy Ghost. Thatthis is a misconception should be evi-dent to all who read Father Bier's article in the present number and a s~cond article to be phblished in January. Whatever may be said 'for or against the value of psychological tests--and we do not claim to have all the answers--it seems clear enough that their use is no more an attempt to "naturMize" religious vocation than is the use of previous medical examinations. Educating Sisters We have just received a very yaluable brochure entitled Directorg of Catholic Women's Colleges with Facilities for the Education oF Sisters. This brochure gives tabulated i'nformation on colleges and motherhouses accredited to offer degree programs, detailing the par-ticular courses provided, the number of Sisters who could be cared for, and the conditions, financial and otherwise, under which they would be received. The information was gathered by the Commit-tee on the Survey Section on Teacher Education of the N.C.E.A. The reason for gathering the information was the fact that many of the smaller religious congregations of women do not have facilities for educating their own members and find the standard costs of "sending Sisters away" prohibitive. These congregations can obtain help from the larger congregations; and this Directorg will show at a glance where and how the help can be obtained. For further information, or for copies of the Directo~g, piease address: Sister Mary Gerard, O.S.F., Chairman, Directory Project, Alverno College, 3401 South 39th Street, Milwaukee 15, Wisconsin. Poor Clares The Poor Clares of New Orleans have prepared a file of at least one hundred 2-inch slides in .black 'and white for use in a still pro-jector. The photos were taken within the cloister, and every" part of the monastery is included. Also prepared is a brief description of every picture. The nuns will send'this file to any desiring to show 281 NEWS AND VIEWS Reoiew for Religious the slides tO interested groups, particularly, young ladies among whom there might be the possibility of a contemplative vocation. They will also send ~lratis literature for distribution, a set of seven large posters, and 6-inch dolls'd~es~ed as" Poor Clar~s. The remailing of, the small slide file is the only expense they would expect the user to assume. Those interested in this vocational project shQ~Id write to: Monastery of Saint Clare, 720 Henry Clay Avenue, N~w Orleans 18, Louisiana. New Indulgence For the purpose of 'increasing devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary ever more and more, Ou~ Holy Father, Pope Plus XII, in. an audience given to the Cardinal Major Penitentiary on March 30, 1953, granted in perpetuum an indulgence of fifty days, to be gained once a day, to those who, keeping on their person a duly blessed rosary of Our Lady, have kissed it devoutly.and at the same time have recited with a pious mind the words of the Angelic Salutation: "H~iil Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women, arid blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus." (Acta Apostolicae. Sedis, XXXXV [ 19 5 3 ], 31 1.) , Valuable Booklets The Grail Press, St. Meinrad, Indiana, has sent us two booklets of immense value for clerics. Both of them are re-editions. One is Rome and the Study of Scri_pture, which contains a collection of papal enactments on the study of Holy Scripture, together with deci-sions of the Biblica.1 Commission. The price is one dollar. The other booklet is The Popes and the Priesthood, which contains English translations of importgnt statements of the Holy See on the.priest-hoo. d. The price of this booklet is only fifty cents. Rural Parish I, Vorke;'s In our last number (see. p. 242) we promised a more complete account of the Rural Parish Workers of Christ the King. This apostolate was begun by Miss Alice Widmer, a graduate of.Webster College, Webster Groves, Missouri, and Miss LaDonna I-fermann, a graduate of Maryville College of the Sacred Heart, St. Louis. In the summer of 1941 they decided to devote ~heir lives to lay action for the salvation of souls and the extension of Christ's Kingdom by the igractice bf the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. That fall they heard Monsignor (later Bishop) Leo J. Steck speak of the'lick 282 Not~ember, 1953 NEWS AND VIEWS. of priests'in rural.areas, and th'ey: asked him whether they might help in one of these areas. With his assis'tance and that of Father William d. Pe~.old, they began work in the latter's parish of Cottleville, St. Charles Count'/, Mi'ssouri. During that same summer they learned to use the short breviary. The remainder of their story i~ told by tlSemselveL as follows: "Activities ir~ St. Ct~arles County, where we lived in two twelve: by-twelve-foot rooms in a portable schoolbuilding on thechurch grounds, included home visiting, care of the sick, helping the poor, Vacation schools, Sianday school for non-Catholic and pre-s~hool .Catholic children, craft classes for,, dhildren and adults, discussion Clubs in' the homes, w~rk with teen-agers, in'structions of converts'. distribution of Catholic literature and sacramentals, religious and social Welfare work. "Originally we had no thought of a continuing organizatio.n. As'we saw the needs and what could be done we went to see Car-dinal John d. Glennon of beloved memory', who had been a benefac-tor from the first. He encouraged us in our plans to £tevelop a per-manent organization and gave permission to solicit funds for~ p, er-manent home not to be located on parish grounds. Shortly there-after he died. "Sev, enteen months, later we discussed our future with Arch-bishop. Joseph E. Ritter. Three months afterwards he asked us;.to work'among.the miners and farmers of the tiff.aiea in Wash, ington County, the mbst e~ploited region in the St. Louis archdiocese. Through ,his generous assistance and that of Auxiliary Bishop: Charles tt.'Helmsing and Rev. Edward A. Bruemmer of Old Mines, we moved in September, 1949, to Fertile iri the Old Mines parish,of St. Joachim. We entered into parish, activity by beginning the in-struction of ninety-one public-school children and visitation in their homes and began extensive remodeling of an old brick residence eight miles from church. "The Rural Parish Worker program is adjusted to the,.needs of the area and is always pointed to the development of Christian homes and the strength.ening of parish life. In Washington County the following activities take precedence: ~eligiotis and social welfare work: distribution of food and ,clothing; transportation, to church, h.ospitals,_a.nd clinics; Sunday instruction classes; preparation of con-verts: home visiting, and instruction; interpretation of rights and 283. NEWS AND VIEWS duties as citizens; assistance in obtaining State and Federal benefits, doctors' care, hospitalization. "Some assistance is given to a few in adjoining parishes. HOw-ever, since.our home parish of St. ,loachim is one hundred and fifty square miles in size with poor and sometimes no roads,, it occupies most of our time. Attendance at civic meetings and participation in civic affairs are also on the agenda, as are outside works, such as land-scaping, building of small buildings, care of goats, and gardening when we can get to it. "Yearly summer sessions ~nd a year-of-service program are offered to young women thinking of the lay apostolate as a way of life or who wish to give at least part of their lives in. concentrated work for the restoration of Christ in society. "Last fall Rev. Bede Scholz, O.S.B., of Plus X Monastery in Labadie, Mo., was appointed by the Most Rev. Archbishop as our spiritual director. Father Bede, then at Conception Abbey, Concep-tion, Mo., had helped form us in the early days. (We would go for a week of spiritual refreshment to Conception.) Father Bede, Rt. Rev. Monsignor Martin B. Hellriegel, and Rev. Charles P. Schmitt were our spiritual advisers for several years when we lived in St. Charles County. "At the beginning we had literally nothing except a few dollars we had saved when working, a typewriter, phonograph and records ¯ bought for the work, our clothes and personal little belongings. Yet we have neve'r been in want and God has sent everything as it was needed for our neighbors and for us. Today many are assisting by prayer, donations of money and materials. The bills are always with us but we know that Almighty God is also, and we have no fears for the future. We know He will do with us as He wishes and that is all we want. It is with humble hearts that we look back over twelve years of labor in His vineyard and it is with confidence that we invite others--young women from all over the United States--to come to Fertile, to the Center of the Rural Parish Workers of Christ the King, and lend their talents and their labors in this rural aposto-late of service based on the spiritual arid corporal works of mercy for the glory of God and the development of Christian homes; to come to Fertile and help in the world-wide work "of the Church today-- the restoration of Christ to society." The address of the Rural Parish 'Workers of Christ the King is: Route 1, Box 194, Cadet, Missouri. 284 ¯ Pract:iceot: :he l-loly See, II Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. [The first part of this article was published in the September REVIEW, pp. 252- 72.] XII INDULTS OF SECULARIZATION New practice of the Holy See. Secularizati-on is the voluntary de-parture from religion, authorized by an indult of competent ecclesi-astical authority, in virtue of which the subject is separated com-pletely and perpetually from membership in the institute and is freed absolute.ly from all obligations contracted by. religious profession. Since secularization dispenses from all religious vows, even if solemn, it is co~nmonly also called a dispensation from the vows of religion. The Holy See alone may grant secularization in pontifical institutes; in diocesan congregations the Ordinary of the place where the, reli-gious is staying is also competent.34 .Indults of secularization granted by the Holy. See for those who are not priests now contain the following sentence: "This decree ceases to have any validity if not accepted by the petitioner within ten days after being informed of the executorial decree.'qs" It has long been a clea~ principle of canon law .that an indult of seculariza-tion, even ~hou.gh freely petitioned,, may be refused and has no effect until accepted by the religious in question,z6 If within the ten days: (a) the indult is expressly accepted, it becomes effective immediately;37 (b) the induli is neither accepted nor refused, it ceases to have any validity at the end of this period; (~') the indult is definitively refused, all validity of the indult cer-tainly ceases at the end of ten days and. at least more probably immediately upon the definitive refusal.3s In practice a new indult is to be petitioned if the religious repents of his refusal and wishes again 34Can. 638; Bouscaren. II, 173. 3s"Post decem dies a recepta comrnunicatione Decreti exsecutorialis, ex porte Oratoris (ricis), prasens Decretum, si non fuerit acceptatum, nullii~s roboris esto.'" Cf. Gu-ti& rez, CpR, XXIV (1953), 186-197. 36Bouscaren, I; 326. 37Cf. Creusen. ft. 332: Jombart, RCR, II (1926), 151; Piontek, 262 ft.: Ver-meersch, Periodica, XI (1923), 151. a8Cf. Guti~rrez. CpR, XXIV (1953),194-195: Goyeneche, CpR, XVIII (1937). 239-240:.Muzzarelli, p. 172; and Jombart, RCR, II 1926), 150-151, who ap-pears to hold the contrary. 285 ¯ JOSEPH 1:::. GALLEN for Religious to leave during the ten-davy period. ," The practice of the Holy See is not to grant the indult directly to the religious but to give to an intermediary person, for example, the local Ordinary, the f~iculty of granting the indult of secularization to the religious. The actual granting of the indult by this intermedia'ry person is called the executorial decree. The ten days begin to run -from the time the religious is officially notified of the granting of this executorial decree, not from the date of notification of the deciee of the Holy See. The day of notification is not computed. If the no-tification is given on August 1, the ten days expire at midnight of August 1 1-12. This time does not run for any period in which the religious was ignorant of or unable to exercise his right of acceptance and refusal. XII. GENERAL CHAPTER 1. Constitutions rec.ently appro~)ed by the Holy See. One congrega-tion of sisters had difficulty in persuading the S. C. of Religious to approve in a general revision of its constitutions the designation of the Secretary and Bursar General by appointment rather than by election. Appointment was approved about the same time in another general revision without any difficulty and had been permitted in some constitutions approved by the Holy See in the past. The num-ber in the grouping of the smaller houses for the election of delegates. is now rather constantly stated to be at least twelve and not more than twenty-three professed. The S. C. of Religious is consistently including in constitutions an article stating that the duties of the pre-siding local Ordinary or his delegate terminate at the proclamation of the election of the mother general.39 Some recent constitutions con-tain the prescription of the Normae of 1901: "If the Ordinary. is ac-companied by one or more priests, these may in no way take part in the election.''40 The present practice of the Holy See permits not only the secretary general but also the bursar general to be elected a general councillor but neither may be elected as the first councillor. The same practice now rather consistently gives the general chapter the right of declaring matters to be of greater importance and subject to the deliberative vote of the general council. Some recent constitu-tions. also give to the general chapter and council the'right to deter- 39Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XI (1952), 16-18. 4ONormae of 1901, n. 224. Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ibid., 17-18. 286 Nooember, 1953 PRACTICE OF THE HOLY SEE. min~ matters as subject to the deliberative vote of-the local council. The S. Congregation corrected one set of constitutions to read~ " . . .the newly elected M6.thfir General shall appoint one or seoeral. committees.to examine and arrange the'proposals to the Gerieral Cfiapter and to furnish a report concerning them." Even if not so' stated in the constitutions, several committees may be appointed be~ cause of the amount of work or for greater efficiency and lack of time, since several committees are not forbidden by the constitutions. 2. Indult's. One congregation of si'sters secured an indult from the Holy Se~ permitting th~ anticipation of its next general chapter by' six months. The principal reason given in the petition was the ex-~ p~nse and extensive travel that would be required foi the' capitulars' to return to the motherhouse two months after all had been present there for the annual retreat. ~ Another congregation of sisters requested a change, in its constitu- ' tions by which the novice mistress would be a member of thegeneral chapter in virtue of her offce. The S. C. of Religious replied: "It is not expedient.'" Canonical authors had stated that such a provision was not in accord with the practice of the S. Congregation,4x but a.~ similar article had been approved in a very small number of constitu-. tions in the past. A congregation of sisters was to hold in the United States an ex-traordinary general chapter,, which the delegates of the provinces be-yond the "iron curtain" would not be able to attend. The S. C. of Religious gave to a local Ordinary the faculty of permitting their votes to be sent by letter or for these provinces to choose delegates here who would cast their votes. 3. Roman meeting. The subjects touched upon at this meeting of superioresses general appear to have been the following: (a) The Holy See is opposed to the immediate re-election, or rather postula-tion., of a mother general beyond the limits prescribed in the consti-tutions. Similarly the Holy See only for serious reasons grants a dispensation permitting a local superior to be given a third successive three-year term in the same house. (b) Two excesses are verified in ~lections, an indifference that results in ignorance of the eligible and' suitable and electibneering. (c) Young religious should not be ex-. cluded from higher offices' if they have the necessary natural and spit-. itual qualifications. ., 41Basticn, n. 246, 2; Battandier, n. 352. 287. JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review/:or Religious These subjects present nothing new,4z but the. light thrown on the abuse of electioneering is very Opportune. Electioneering is the deliberate seeking of votes, directly or indirectly, to elect a particular person, or one person rather than another, or to exclude anyone from being elected. The simple seeking of information concerning the abilities or defects of those eligible and the communication of such information to. others, without any attempt at persjaasion, is not for-bidden, and is very frequently necessary and laudable. It is.:remarkable.how often the matter of elections can blind the moral sense of even very good religious. This reason alone has per-suaded the present writer to hold rigidly to the conviction, that in any general revision of the constitutions elections should, be restricted to those absolutely necessary. Only the offices of the superior gen-eral and of his or her councillors demand election. Every religious should have the permanent resolution of nevei uttering a word about future elections in his institute until after he has meditated daily for at least a week on the will of God. XIII. MONASTERIES OF NUNS I. Federations and Con/¥derations. The only federation or con-fdderation affecting American monasteries of nuns that has been made public is that of the Visitandines. The pohtifical constitution Spon~a Christi and the accompanying Instruction should be carefully studied by all nuns. Unwise and exaggerated changes are to be avoided in any state of life, "but no religious institute can reasonably exclude progress and prudent adaptation to .the times; Federations and con-federations are highly recommended by Plus XII in Sponsa, Christi. 2. Restoration o[ solemn ~ows. In 195 1-52 eighteen monasteries of nuns-in the United States secured permission from the Holy See for the taking of solemn vows.43 The restoration of solemn vows is at least strongly urged on all monasteries of nuns in Sponsa Christi. If serious reasons exist against this restoration in any monastery, such reasons are to be submitted to the S. C. of Religi6us for examina-tion. 44. The form of the decree granting solemn vows is uniform. The provisions are: (a) Papal cloister must be observed as' described in 42Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, X (1951), 187-200. 43Guti~rrez. CpR, XXXIV (1953), 102-115. Cf. the list of monasteries of solemn vows in the United States, as of January, 1950. in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, IX (19~50), 58, note 2. 44Larraona, quoted by Guti~rrez, ibid., 1"07. " '288 November, 1953 PRACTICE O~: THE HOLY SEE canon law, Sponsa Christi and the accompanying Instruction (Inter praeclara), and also the Instruction of the S. C. of Religious of Feb-ruary 6, 1924.4s (b) Nuns at present in simple perpe.tual vows and thbse who have compieted the prescribed time of temporary vows make solemn profession. The local Ordinary or his delegate receives the profession of the superioress, who then receives all the other pro-fessions. (c) Any nun in simp!e perpetual vows who does not wish to make the solemn profession may remain in simple vows but she is obliged by all the prescriptions of papal cloister.46 (d) Future per-petual professions Will be solemn except, of course, those of the ex-tern sisters, who may be admitted only to simple perpetual profession at the expiration of the prescribed peridd of temporary vows. 3. Dowr~ . Modifications in the general constitutions were granted to several monasteries of one order of nuns in the United Sta~es by the S. C. of Religious in 1950. A canonically interesting article of these modifications is: "No dowry is required for the admission of postulants." 4. Induhs concerning papa! clbister. A monastery of nuns in. the United States obtained the follov~ing permissions from the S. C. of Religious: (a) for five years--to admit into the enclosure at the funerals of nuns the clergy, acolytes, and pall bearers required to carry the body to the crypt; (b) fbr three years--to allow those taking out naturalization papers to go out to government offices as often as necessary; (c) for three years--t6 allow a nun to leave the enclosure as companion for a nun obliged to go out for bospltal treatment. Iri the case of another monastery, the local Ordinary whs given the faculty for twenty cases of permitting a nun to leave the enclosure with a companion for the reason of ill health. The rescript contained the clause, that any unbecoming circumstance was to b~ avoided. 5. Concession of Masses. A proper ordo or calendar, and thus dis-tinct from the diocesan ordo, is had by all orders of regulars, and this is to be observed also by the nuns and sisters of these orders. A proper ordo is also had in.religious congregations and societies living in common without public vows, whether of men or women, that have been approved by the Holy See,.[re constituted under one gen-eral superior, and are obliged to the divine office, even if only by 45Bouscaren, I, 314-320; .46Escudero, CpR, XXXIII (1952), 35, nota 39. 289 JOSEPH F. GALLEN reason of major orders.47 Nuns that constitute a second order, such as the Carmelites, will follow the proper ordo of the first order of men. Obviously, there-fore, they may not celebrate in the divine office and Mass feasts granted to dioceses or t6 other institutes. For this reason at least one monastery of nuns in the United States secured from the Holy See an indult permitting the celebration of the feasts of the North American Martyrs on September 26 and that of St. Frances Xavier Cabrini on December 22.48 47,SCR, 4312, ad'l-2; 4403, ad 1. 48The autlqors, documents, and abbreviations not clear from their mere citation are." Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) ; Bastien, Directoire Canonique; Battandier, Guide Canonique; Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest; Cervia, De ProFessione Religiosa; Com-mentarium Pro Rell.qiosis (CpR) ; Creusen, Religious Men and Women in the Code; Decreta Authentica Congregationis Sacrorum Rituum (SCR) ; Muzzarelli, De Con-gregationibus luris Diocesani; Piontek, De Indulto Exclaustrationis necnon Saecular-izationis; Revue des Communautis Religieuses (RCR) ; Schaefer, De Religiosis. BOOK NOTICE AUX SOURCES DE LA TRADITION DU CARMEL, by Jean le Soli-taire, is a work that will be of special.interest and value, not only to Carmelites, but also to all who are concerned with understanding well the essentials and the accidentals of the contemplative life and~ with the problem of adapting it fittingly to the changes that mark modern culture and the present situation of the Church. The book is not primarily historical; rather it is conceived from the ,spiritual point of view, and would like to contribute to the best possible re-vitalization and perfection of the contemplative life in the concrete existe.ntial conditions of today and tomorrow." (Paris: Beauchesne et ses Fils, 1953. Pp. 274.) LETTER ON OBEDIENCE Father William J. Young. S.J., has made a new and very readable translation of St. Ignatius' Letter on Obedience. This translation is published in pamphlet form by the America Press. Single copies are twenty cents; special discounts are allowed on quantity orders. Write to: The America Press, 70 East 45th St., New York 17, N.Y. 290 Psychological Test:ing ot: Candida!:es and t:he Theology oF Vocal:ion William C. Bier, S.,I. [EDITORS' NOTE: This article is an adaptation of 'a paper presented at the Fordham "Institute on Religious and Sacerdotal Vocations, July, 1953. Father Bier's interest in the use of psychological tests as helps in evaluating the suitability of candidates for the priesthood and religious life goes back to graduate work in psychology at The Catholic University under Father Thomas Verner Moore, who encouraged him to plan a doctoral research on some.preliminary phases of this problem. After the completion of his doctoral work in 1948 Father Bier went to Fordham and has been teaching in the psychology department of the graduate school since that time. He developed a program of psychological tests for candidates in the New York Province of the Society of 3esus, which has been in operation for five years. This work is now spreading to other Provinces of the Society and to other religious groups. He thinks that the greatest need at the present time is the development of specific, norms on these tests, not only for religious as distinct from lay persons, but probably also for different religious groups. The development of such norms is of necessity a cooperative undertaking, and Father Bier has been serving as a clearing house for gathering the needed information from the various groups working in conjunction with him. At the present time this work is still in its initial stages, and it will have to be in operation some time longer before publishable results are ¯ available, ] THE present article is the first in a series of two dealing with the use of psychological tests in the selection of candidates for the priesthood and for the religious life. This matter receives clari-fication bydistinguishing and giving separate treatment to the two questions involved. The first concerns the role of psychological tests in the selection of candidates and raises the question of the relation-shiio between testing of this kind and the theology- of vocation. It is evident that this first question is largely theoretical, but testing must first be justified on these grounds before it is feasible to discuss the second question, namely, the practical requirements of such a testing program. The current article, therefore, will consider the theoretical basis for the psychological testing of candidates, and a second article will take up the problems involved in the development of such a pro-gram in practice. Religious Vocation Although in full accord, on theological and psychological grounds, with the modern tendency to extend the term vocation to embrace all states of Christian life, the current consideration is never-theless restricted to vocations to the religious life.and to the priest- 291 WILLIAM C. BIER Reoiew for Religi'ous hood. More specifically still, the explicit treatment is confined mostly to the religious life, leaving the priesthood as matter for reasonably evident inference. A vocation, as the nominal definition of the wor~l implies, ex-presses the action of summoning someone to move toward a definite goal; in a word, it is a call. ~n the case of a divine vocation, it is God who calls the person, and in the matte~ of religious vocation, it is a call to the voluntary practice of the evangelical counsels in an institute.approved by the Church. The question that arises in the case of every vocation is: how can we know in a given case that'God calls? How can it be determined that the vocation is real and not illusory, genuine and not deceptive? This is the question ~vhich must be answered by the candidate himself, by his director, and by the superior who accepts him. In his recent book, The Theolog~I of Religious Vocation, Father Edward Farrell, O.P.,1 indicates that St. Thomas Aquinas distin-guished between internal vocation, or desire on the part of the candi-date for the religious life, and external vocation, or acceptance by a legitimate superior. It will be helpful for our present purpose to consider vocation under both of these aspects, and in so doing we shall 9ttempt to place the psychological testing of candidates in its proper perspective and to indicate what is its legitimate function with respect to the discernment of vocation. Internal Vocation By internal vocation St. Thomas means the intention on the part of the candidate to embrace the religious life. This intention is formed by. a man under the influence of the Holy Spirit. -Such an intention is the result of grace, or rather a series of grace~ consisting of interior'andexterior helps, in virtue of which the individual is led to take the resolution to enter.religious.life. This resolution to enter religion may result from an extraordinary illumination of the mind and incitement of the will toward the reli-gious state. Some of the saints have been favored with such an un-mistakable divine call, but Pope Plus X in his decision on the book of Canon Lahitton on Sacerdotal Vocation made it clear that no such special attraction is necessary for a priestly or religious vocation. Gen-erally, the intention to enter religion is formed under the influence of what theologians would refer to as ordinary grace, i.e., a grace which " 1St. Louis: Herder, 1951. 292 o November, 1953 PSYCHOLOGICAL TESTING works through the reasoning processes. Theologians generally would take this to mean that the decision is the result of deliberation where-by the individual perceives, in the light of the Gospel ~ind from other considerations that, everything being taken into account, the way of the counsels is preferable for him. Consequently be experiences a corresponding rational inclination of the will toward such a life. It is Worth n'oting, however, that the proposal to enter r.eligion must be sufficiently firm considering the difficulties involved in this state of life. It is only a firm resolution which, in the opinion of theologians, is the subjective manifestation of vocation. On philo-sophical grounds it may be shown that a state of mind can be logically firm only when reasonable doubt is.excluded. We may .say, therefore, that what God's grace does in the case of vocation is to make it possible for the individual to see with a clarity which ex-cludes the reasonable fear of error that the way of ~he counsels is the preferable way of life for him. It would seem, therefore, that the applicant, whose state of mind prior to entrance is uncertain, who is not ~ure whether he has a vocation or not, but who applies "in order to give the life a try," does not hav~ a vocation, since he lacks this firm proposal which is the subjective sign of vocation. It is possible that such an applicant would become certain bf his vocation during postulancy or noviceship, but it seems more prudent, when such a doubt is known, .to postpone his acceptance until it is solved, and meantime to encour.age him to'pray and consider the matter more maturely. It is evident that such a firm decision to enter the religious state is the result of grace. "You have not chosen me, but I have chosen you" (Jo. 15:16). This is the essence of religious vocation, and it is clearly its supernatural aspect. Directly, therefore, psychology, which can touch only the natural, has nothing to do with this aspect. of vocation. Yet,. indirectly, even here, it may have something to contribute. Canon 538 indicates that the candidate for the religious life must be inspired by a "right intention." This requirement expresses in another way what has already been discussed. If the intention to enter religion has been formed under th~ influence of grace, it will be a right intention. Therefore, no purely natural motive will suffice, such.as disappointment or disillusionment with the world, or per-sonal happiness, or security; or the desire to escape an unhappy home situation. On the other hand, theologians allow that ar~y super- 293 WILLIAM C. BIER Ret~iew for Religious natural motive will suffice, for instance, the desire, to save one's soul, or to work for the salvation of others, or to serve God more per-fectly, or to render salvation more secure. It is at thi~ point, it would seem, that psychology can enter to make a contribution. Human motivasion, we know now, is a much more complex affair than was previously suspected. Our motives are seldom simple, and seldom single. Conscious motives can sometimes serve as a cloak for hidden and undetected tendencies. In the case of the motives inducing a person to apply for admission to the religious life, it will seldom happen that they are pur~ly supernatural. Natural motives invariably enter as well. What seems to be important, how-ever, is that the dominant motives should be supernatural. Granted that in the.concrete the total motive force will bepartly natural and partly supernatural, the more dominant the role of supernatural motives, the more assurance there would be that the call was truly from God. Let us illustrate the point mad~ here by an example. " Suppose a spiritual director, on inquiring why a girl wants to consecrate her virginity to God, were to discover that it is because she finds things of the flesh repugnant. Marriage would be abhorrent to her, and if ¯ the attraction to the religious lifewere in fact nomore than an adjust-ment to such a psychic inhibition, it would scarcely be genuine. Prob-ably, such a girl would have combined this fundamental motive force with some supernatural intention, but the question is how dominant, and hence how genuine, would a supernatural motive be in such a case? Would it be any more'than a case of self-deception? I can conceive of a director telling sucha young girl to thank God that she feels that way, because she is thus freed from many temptations against chastity. Yet such advice, I think, would be highly questionable. It is true, of course, that such a person would have little or no difficulty with the material observance of chastity, but absence of sin or conflict.is not a proof of virtue. In such a case the brake applied to prevent sin is not the regulating influence of rea-son, which would be the basis for virtue, but is an inhibition of the psychic order. It is God's plan that sex should be attractive, not repugnant, and it is clear from the words of Christ (Math. 19:12) and of St. Paul (I Cor. 7:6-9) that the invitation to the counsels implies.a sacrifice. The girl who finds sex repugnant has no sacrifice to make in dedicating her virginity to God. The suitable candidate for the religious life is not one who is incapable of marriage, but one 294 November, 1953 PSYCHOLOGICAL TESTING who freely surrenders this good for a greater. There is a further consideration in a case of this kind which should not be overlooked. The repugnance felt toward sex expression is, as we have presented it, a psychicinhibition. It is due to some psycho-logical twist or other. Suppose, "perhaps after some years of religious life, that this twist is suddenly straightened out--a not inconceivable happening. Once the psychological brake is removed, the person may, for w.ant of virtue, be defenseless against a passion whose existence she never suspected. Could it not be that something similar to this is the explanation of some of those particularl~- puzzling defections after years in religion? The masters of the spiritual life have always recognized the pos-sibility of self-deception in the service of God, and modern psychol-ogy tends to re-enforce their warnings by supplying instances of the subtle ways in which uncon'scious and undetected influences may in-sinuate themselves into human motivation. When such happens in the case of vocation, the good will of the applicant is not in ques-tion, but the genuineness of his vocation.is. He is, in this supposi-tion, deceived himself, and be may quite easily deceive others. The manifestation of virtue is sometimes ambiguous, and what externally passes for virtue may actually be no more than a cover-up for a psychological problem. Natural submissiveness and deep-seated inferiority can ~asily pass for humility, overly-conscientious strivihgs for perfection can, as a matter of fact, be no more than psy-chological defenses against fear of criticism and inability to tolerate failure, while genuine apostolic zeal is not always ea~sy to distinguish from a paranoid discontent. The discernment of spirits is sometimes difficult, and we have the scriptural warning: "Dearly beloved, be-lieve not every spirit, but try the spirits if they be of God" (I John 4:1). This admonition seems to be particularly pertinent in the matter of the discernment of vocation and especially with respect to. the motives prompting the applicant to apply for admission to reli-gion. It would surely be excessive always to question o~ur conscious motives and to see in them nothing but disguises for hidden tenden-cies, but it must be acknowledged that conscious motives are some-times deceptive, and that the dominant motives for our actions are not always the ones which consciously move us. Unconscious fear of contact with the world, for example, may be concealed by perfectly orthodox motives such as contempt for the world and desire of per-fection. For a long time the individual's actions may seem to be in- 295 WILLIAM C, BIER for Refigious spired by these traditional motives, but it may eventually appear that ~hey were in fact but the effects of neurotic tendencies. Where uhcon-scious factors are at work common sense is hardly sufficient for the discernment of vocation, and the eye of the expert, is needed to detect a latent neurosis artfully Concealed behind normal behavior. External Vocation ~ ~ Let us pass now from internal vocation where psychology has but a limit.ed and indirect contribution to make, to external vocation where its contribution is more direct and more extensive. By external ¯ vocation, as previously mentioned, St. Thomas meant the acceptance of ,'i candidate by a legitimate superior. Thus external vocation com-pletes and perfects the internal call essentially determining it to this particular institute. It is evident that before an applicant can be accepted a judgement must be made on his suitabil!ty for the religious life. Some one must 'pass on such firness, and ultimately this decision is the responsibility of the religious superior. The internal call is always subject to the possibility of self-deception, and finds a certain confirmation, there-fore, in the judgement of suitability passed by a competent superior. The junction of the two gives vocation to the religious life in the concrete. Suitability for the religious life might be treated from various-points of vie~v, but for the purposes of the present discussion it will be considered under qualities of body and mind, which in the words of Canon 538 render the individual "fit to bear the burdens of the religious state." A certain level of physical well'being is required for the exercise of religious life, and it is co~nmon practice, to require of applicafits a doctor's certificate of good health. Pertinent to the present discussion, however, is the fact that mental health is no less necessary for religious life. The idea of "mens sana in corpore san&' (a sound mind in a sound body)' seems to be a p~oper estimate of fitness f?r life in religion. The Contribution of Psychological Tests There would be no real disagreement, I think, on the fact that certain psychological qualities are required in a candidate for the reli-gious life. What these qualities are might be diff,erently expre.ssed as maturity, balance, stability, control, adjustment, but there is at least agreement that some over-all psychological integrity is needed. It might even be clearer and there would, perhaps, be even greater agree- 296 Nouernber, 1953 PSYCHOLOGICAL TESTING ment if the propositi6n were put negatively: certain psychologic.al conditions render an applicant unsuitable for the religious life. Con- .sequently no .superior can accept a candidate for religion without making some judgement of psychological fitness. The trouble is that such a judgement, necessary as it is, is frequently superficial and hap-hazard, because the basis for a more adequate judgement is not avail-able. Here the psychological examination of candidates can enter to make its contribution. Such an examination can offer a more ade-quate foundation for the estimate of psychological suitability which must be made. It may be valuable to point out thus early in the pre~ent discussion that the psychological testing of candidates is new only in its methods; not in its p.urpose. Its function is traditional and inescapable: namely, ~a judgement on the psychological fitness of the applicant. The psychological' examination has a function to perfwor~mth " " respect to all candidates. With the greater n~amber of them its func-tion will be negative hnd w. ill consist simply in affirming the fact that th'ey are psychologically suitable, i.e., that no psychological fac-tors are in evidence which would antecedently make it impossible for them to bear the burden of religious life. Even though the contribu' tion here is negative, it is not to be despised for it is precisely what is needed, namely, a clean bill of mental health. It should be noted that such immunity at the time of application is no necessary guar-antee that psychological difficulty ~might not subsequently ,,develop, any more than the assurance of physical health at the time of entrance is a gua.rantee against subsequent ill health, bht at the time it repre-sents what is needed and is sufficient. With ~espect to the remaining candidates the psychological exam-ination, we assume, will show positive results. Sometimes these re-sults will be extreme, for serious mental disorder cannot be a priori excluded in candidates for the religious life. .In this connection, the work of Father Thomas Verner .Moore on the. rate of insanity in priests and religious2 is pertinent. This ~tudy appeared in The Ec-clesiastical Review for 1936, and still remains the only published work on th,e subject. In connection with the investigation, Father Moore contacted all the Catholic and non-Catholic state and .private sanatoria and asyla for the insane in. the United States. On a basis '-'Thomas Verner Moore. "Insanity in Priests and Religious. Part I[ The Rate of Insanity in Priests and Religioi~s." The Ecclesia t;'ca! Reoic~', 95 (1936). 485- 498. : 297 WILLIAM C. BIER Review for Religious of his returns, Father Moo~e reports the following figures for the year 1935. The ratio per 100,000 population was as follows: for priests 446; for sisters 485; for brothers 418: for the ge,neral popu7 lation 595. He found a notable difference between active sisters with a ratio of 428 and cloistered sisters with a ratio of 1034. On a basis of these findings, therefore, the rate of insanity among priests and religious is less than it is among the general population, but the rate for cloistered sisters is more than twice what it is among the popula-tion at large. One additional point is worth noting. Although it is true that the rate of insanity among priests and religious is less than for the general population, this result is due to the fact that syphilitic types of insanity are almost completely absent among priests and re-ligious. If the latter were eliminated from the figures for the general population, the rate of insanity for priests and religious xvould rise above that for the population at large. One might be tempted at first sight to interpret these figures as meaning that religious life makes reore demands on psychological stability than life in the world, with psychological breakdown conse-quently more frequent. Although there is truth in this interpreta-tion, Father Moore is of the opinion that a more important factor in producing these results is the attraction exerted by the religious life upon certain pre'-psychotic personalities. Schizophrenia, for example, is by far the most frequent psychiatric disorder among institutional-ized priests and religious; and there can be no doubt that a consider-able number of pre-schizophrenic personalities are attracted by the retirement and seclusion of religious life, and of the contemplative life more than the active. Their schizophrenic tendencies blossom out into a full psychosis in religion, but they would undoubtedly have done so just as xvell had these persons remained in the world. Outright psychosis among applicants for the religious life is hardly to be expected, but pre-psychosis and incipient psychosis is ~ problem, as Father Moore's findings and fundamental interpretation indicate. Now, the essential point in term} of the present discussion is that pre-psychosis is not likely to be discovered in an applicant for the religious life, apart from some special testing procedur~ designed to reveal it. Sufficient proof of this statement is found in the number of such persons who secure admission to religious life. As indicated above, cases of severe mental disorder among appli-ca, nts for the religious life are relatively rare, nor do they offer too great a difficulty in evaluation. In such cases the picture is unequivo- 298 Not~erober, 1953 PSYCHOLOGICAL TESTING 6al, and upon examination the applicant is found to exhibit such a wealth of psychopathology as to be clearly unsuitable. There is, however, a larger number of cases in which the degree of psychologi-cal difficulty is considerably less. The evaluation of such cases is more difficult for two fundamental reasons: (1) because the degree of disorder being less it is more difficult to detect; and (2) because it is more difficult to predict the extent to which the disorder is likely to render the applicant incapable bf bearing the burdens of the religious life. It is evident that the reference here is to neurosis in 'general and to the milder forms of mental difficulty which wduld not even qualify as neurosis. Neurosis, referring in general to the non-psychotic forms of mental difficulty, is a broad term, and I am inclined to think that most responsible and informed persons would be reluctant to say that the presence of neurosis, ipso Facto, would render an applicant un-suitable for the religious life. The presence of neurosis would un-questionably create a presumption of unsuitability, but the latter might yield to the contrary fact in a given case. What then is to be taken as the norm? I would, suggest that we might distinguish 'on the basis of the kind of neurosis. It is beyond question that there are certain types of neurotic difficulty which would almost surely be accentuated by the demands of religious life, and it would be my suggestion that the presence of a neurosis of this type would render the applicant unsuitable. At the present time I would prefer to leave open the question as to whether there actually are any neuroses of the second type, i.e., which would not be aggravated by the requirements of life in religion. As an example of a neurosis the presence of which would likely preclude acceptance into' religion, I would mention hypochondriasis, an abnormal pre-occupation with bodily health. This tendency, as is well known, can grow into an exclusive pre-occupation leaving the individual with little thought or energy for religious observance. In its milder forms it s.imply interferes with ~ommunity life and regular. observance; in more advanced stages, it renders the individual com-pletely incapable of foIlowing religious routine. Experience quite well attests that the introspection of the religious life develops a cer-tain number of hypochondriacs as it is, so that the expectation seems justified that this life would aggravate such tendencies if they were already present at the time of admission. An even clearer example, to my mind, of the kind of neurosis the presence of which would 299 WILLIAM C. BIEP~ Re'view [or Religious render an indi~cidual unsuitable 'for the religious life, would be an obsessive-compulsive neur6sis, which manifests itself .in the moral sphere as scrupulosity. I have referenc~ not to an isolated instance of scrupulosity in the life of an applicant, but to scrupulosity of suffi-cient duration to have become habitual. Such a state is aggravated 'by the additional duties of religious life, by the continual self-exam-ination which is an iodispensable condition for progress t~ward reli-gious perfection, andparticularly by the obligation of the vows. In its milder forms, scrupulosity impairs efficiency, in prayer no less than in apostolic work. In its severer manifestations, it makes prayer and religious observance a torture, and any substantial measure of pro-ductive work an impossibility. Attitude to be Assumed in Doubtful Cases In connection with the matter just .discussed, a question arises which must be faced directly, and it is this: do we not go too far in excluding applicants with neurotic tendencies? Would it not be more in accord with the spirit of Christ. and the Church to accept them and to leave something to the healing effect of God's grace? In answer to this sort of a question, I would like first of all to. point out that psychological testing is finished, its work complete; its contribution made, when it has ascertained the facts, in as far as it is possible to ascertain them in the case of the applicant, and has put these at the disposal of the superior. It then becomes the superior's responsibility to act upon the facts as seems best, and, in view of them and all other available sources of information, to accept or to reject the candidate. A prudent superior will not come to a decision', of course, without taking the matter to prayer. Indeed everyone con-nected with the discernment of a vocation must pray; the applicant himself must pray, his director must pray, and the superior who acts on his application must pray. The Gospels tell us that Our Lord spent the .night in prayer before choosing the Apostles. The example. of saints teaches us that we should pray in such an important deci-sion, but also work. It was it. Ignatius' advice, for instance., that we should .work as if the entire l)utcome depended on us, buy pray as though the entire outcome depended on prayer alone. Such advice seems particularly apposite in the selection of candidates. In this case, the importance of the matter requires that the most adequate possible investigation be made, but ultimately such s~lection depends upon a judgement of the superior. This judgement should be founded in fact--as far as it is humanly possib, le to discover the truth--and 300 Noaeraber, 1953 PSYCHOLOGICAL TESTING should be illumined b'y grace, in as far as it is possible to invoke the divine assist~ince through prayer. Even when we have proceeded in: the manner indicated abo,~e,.the decision still remains difficult, for we are attempting in such cases just ¯ about the most difficult task in the .world, namely, to predict the interplay of divin'e grace and human freedom. "If the human mind,'r says a distinguished French contemporary, "cannot probe this mys-terious interplay +yen after the event (for when someone leaves a re-ligious institute it is often impossible to tell.whether it was through infidelity to a. real vocation or simply due to the late discovery that there was no vocation at all) still less can it see it~beforehand.'''~ We are compelled .humbly to admit that there are and will continue to be a certain number of cases which cannot be avoided, but there are others which, with a gr.eater expenditure of human effort and l~ru-dence, could be avoided. Such" is our task. When there, is, doubt about the psychological s~itability of can-didates for the religiou~ life, I would offer it as a general principle that we should be severe rather than lenient in admitting. My fun-damental reason for this recommendation is that the religious life demands more than ordinary psychological stability for. its practice. In the vows, which constitute the essence of religious life, man makes of himself a holocaust to God. owe speak also of the martyrdom of the vows. It is true that "holocaust" and "martyrdom" are meta-phorical expressions in this context, but they serve to emphasize the demands made of human nature in the practice of the religious life, " demands which are to a considerable extent psychological. Certainly the number of psychological satisfactions available to religious are considerably reduced over those possible to people in the world, while the occasion~ for frustration are greater, due to the surrender of deep human wants through the vows of religion, and by reason of the demands of day-by-day community lif~. Hence there is required more than the usual amount of psychological stability and maturity in a religious, and it would seem, therefore, to be imprudent to accet3t in religion applicants with distinctly less than the normal amount of psychological integrity. A further point seems worth) of note in this connection. The attitude is sometimes assumed that doubtful candidates should be ac-cepted in religion because religious life wotild benefit them more than 8A. Pit, O.P., "Unconscious Attraction to the Religious Life." Religious Life: H Vocation. Westminster, Maryland, Newman, 1952, p. 110. 301 WILLIAM (~. BIER Reoiew fo'r Religious it would some better individuals who are less in need of helps reli-gion would prgvide. A ~lightly different way of putting this same objection would be to say that if there is a doubt, we should give the ,applicant the benefit of the doubt. We assume that the doubt is a positive one, i.e., one in which there are positive .reasons for ques-tioning the suitability of the candidate. ¯ In such cases, I do not think that the general principle that the applicant should be given the bene-fit of the doubt is the correct one. It must not be forgotten that the religiouscommunity has rights as well, and it .seems a more funda-mental principle that the good of the community should prevail over the good of an individual, particularly when the latter is not yet a member of the community, as would be the case of an applicant. The doubtfully suitable applicant--if indeed the doubt is well founded--is likely to prove to be a problem from the very day of his arrival in the novitiate. If such is the case, he will require a dispro-portionately large amount of the novice master's time, to the detri-ment of the other novices who would profit more from his counsel and direction. Furthermore, psychologically unstable and neurotic individuals are difficult to live with, and it seems really inequitable that such persons should be permitted to enter and to. disrupt the peace and harmony of community life. One such person can be a thorn in the side of an entire community,, as experience very well at-tests. In God's Providence we shall always have enough 'difficult members of the community to make religious~life a source of virtue and sanctification, but it seems quite another thing knowingly to ¯ contribute to the difficulties of religious life by admitting psycho-logically unsuitable persons. Finally, there is always the distinct possibility, if not probability, that the defiaands of religious life will increase the difficulties of psychologically unstable persons to the point where they will ultimately be compelled to leave religion (and the institute may consider itself fortunate if the p}oblm can be solved in this way), or else they will have to be removed from the commun-ity and institutionalized. The latter can be.a tremendous financia'l burden to a c~mmunity, an, d it would seem an unjust one when the likelihood of such an eventuality could have been foreseen at the time of admission. It might be felt by" some that when there is doubt about the psy-chological suitability of a candidate, he should be admitted with the expectation that his inability to adjust to religious life would soon become evident to him through the actual attempt in a way which he 302 Noaernber, 1953 PSYCHOLOGICAL TESTING would never have been able to accept beforehand, and that he xvill in consequence voluntarily leave. The expectation of k, oluntary with-drawal in a case of this kited is not well founded. Even for the psy-chologically well-integrated and mature personality, readjustment to life in the world is difficult and the courage required to face the un-asked questions of family and friends is considerable. Ability to measure up to such demands is not realistically to be expected of one whose difficulty is weakness precisely in this area. Furthermore, it is assumed that the individual is suffering from personality or emo-tional disorders, and one of the main characteristics of such difficulties is a lack of insight on the part of the individual into his condition.' Hence, if the disorder" increases to a point where the individual should leave, insight is likely to decline as well, so that it is not to be ex-pected that the individual will leave voluntarily. I return, therefore, to my earlier proposition that it is a mistaken charity to accept doubt2 fully mature and questionably stable individuals into religion. In concluding the'present article I should like to refer to two quotations which seem to me to re-enforce the viewpoint presented. The first arises out of*the symposium on religious vocation held in France during the summer of 1949, and consists of the following expression of experience on the part of a religious superior: "Experi-ence has taught us one thing, and that is that when there is a doubt about any.one in the novitiate it is n~arly always confirmed later: the situation does not improve. There may be exceptions but they are few and far between.TM I would simply suggest that, under adequate investigation, we can move the process back one step further, and speak about the doubtful applicant, but that the principle remains the same. The second quotation is from our late Holy Father, Pope Pius XI, xvho expressed himself on the severity to be exercised in admitting candidates to the religious life. The occasion was an audience granted to the Capuchin general chapter after the election of Very Reverend Donatus de Welle as Minister General in June I938, at which time the Pope spoke in part as follows: "This recommendation, for which we take full responsibility, ought to be regarded as a father's instruction to his children, based simply on a desire foi the well being of all religious families. And the instruction is this: Be severe. These may be hard words but they~ 4"An Enquiry about Vocation" in Religious Life: II Vocation, Westminster]Mary-land, Newman, 1952, p. 83. 303 WILLIAM C. BIER are p~ompte~t by love, for true love, love worthy of our L.o~d's' friends, can be satisfied with nothing short of the truth . We are not alluding merely to severity of discipline, in general, but first and foremost to the seyerity v,;hich ought to be shown in accepting postu-lants. If ariyone tells you that there is too much sev.erity even now, we authorize you to reply that the Pope wants it to be that .way, be-cause he clearly sees the, need of it, in virtue of his position and.re-sponsibilities, the more so as Providence has granted him a pontifi-cate of some length and thus allowed him to acquire wide .experience in this field. Indeed, if the religious life is to be kept in all its splen-dour there must be severity, particularly with regard, to vocations, because although divine grace helps nature it does not destroy iF; the necessity fordoing battle remains, and in the religious life the stakes. are higher . "It is no exaggeration to say that whenever people unite to form a group, even in small numbers, deterioration occurs. We learn.this from experience. This does not mean that a religious family ought therefore to reduce the number of its members; quite the contrary-- the tendency should always be to increase. But it should see that its members are carefully chosen, like picked soldiers. This is a difficult task, but essential.~ When a number of men join together in some enterprise, their good qualities, and particularly the highest ones, do not become common property; each man keeps his own. Their weak-ness and. bad qualities,I on the other hand, add up and merge to-gether . " These words, coming from so high an authority, speak for them-selves. The purpose of the present article has been to demonstrate the ~)roposition that psycl~ological testing has a function to perform in theselection of candidates for the religious life, and that such,a pro- . gram is in keeping with the spirit of religious vocation as understood in the Church. The theoretical desirability.of such a program is one thing, its practicality is another, arid the latter question will be con-sidered in a second article. OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at WoodstockCollege, Wood-stock, Md. HILARY R. WERTS is superior and a professo.r of moral theology at Alma College, Los Gatos, Calif. C. J. McNASPY, an authority on ~cclesiastical music, is on the faculty of St.'Charles College, Grand Coteau, La. Information on WILLIAM C. BIER is given in the prenote to his article. ' 304 \ The F:ucharis :ic Fast: Hilary R. Werts, S.3. THE. new and mitigated law of the Eucharistic fast contained in the Apostolic Constitution, Christus Dorninus; and the accom-panying Instructibn of the Holy Office, whose translations were published in this REVIEV~, last March, is a generous concession of our H01y Father the Pope who wishes to make more humanly possible the frequent and even daily reception of Holy Communion so.much recommbnded by Blessed Pope Pius X and his successors in the chair of Peter. In pro.mulgating the new law His Holiness urge~ bishops and priests to take advantage of its concessions to exhort the faithful to more frequent reception of'the Blessed Sacrament. Religious who have much contact with the faithful in schools and hospitals will find many' opportunities for their zeal to promote frequent Com~ munion by expla.ining this law'and leading people to use its condes-sions. For this purpose it is necessary that they have a clear under-standing of the conditions for the.application of these concessions. It is hoped that this article will help to this understanding. The former law for the Eucharistic fast is retained except for the particular conces~ion~ "granted in the new law. The first concession is that water does not break the fast, Water may now b.e taken at any time by anyone, right up to Communion time. The Eucharistic" fast is no longer concerned with water, and abstinence from it can no long, er properly be called fasting, though it may be an act of mortifi-cation ¯ Water here means plain water, that is, water without the admix-ture of'any other substance whatever. Water as it is found in natural conditions is plain water, even.though it be mineral water from a mineral spring, Qr ocean water with its content of salt. But minerals or salt may not be added artificially to the water that is permitted before Communion. How,ever, the chemical additions to our city water su'pplies are not to be considered, f6r otherwise we would have no water available to drink and the change in the law would be meaningless. Aside from the permitted water, the Pope confirms the former law and says that it must be observed by those who are able to do so. But this does not mean that those who c.ome under the conditions of the new concessions must worr, y as to whethe, r or not they should use .305 HILARY R. WERTS . Revieu~ for Religious them. Norm I of the Constitution says: "The law of the Eucharistic fast, to be observed from midnight, continues in force for all those who do not come under the special conditions, which We shall set forth in this Apostolic Constitution" (italics supplied). Hence there is no requirement that those who come under the concessions should rather fast from midnight if possible. Norm II of the Constitution makes concessions for the infirm. They may, without any time restriction, take something by way of drink or medicine. They may take non-alcoholic liquids and they may take medicine in either liquid or solid form at any time before the celebration of Mass or the reception of Communion. The ini~rm who enjoy this concession are either those who are sick, or thos.e who are infirm because of age. For the sick, no kind or length or degree of gravity of sickness is specified, but it is required that the infirmity be such that it is difficult to observe .the fast from midnight. The difficulty need not be extraordinary; a moderate diffi-culty will suffice. If an infirm person who desires to communicate would omit Communion because of th~ fast from mid.night, then surely he finds this fast too difficult. For example, influenza, stom-ach ulcers, diabetes, asthma, the ills of pregnancy, may be presumed to make fasting from midnight difficult. Any sickness in which the doctor recommends nourishment before Communion, or in which re-covery would be delayed by fasting, or any infirmity which causes the feeling of weakness unless nourishment is taken will suffice to permit liquid nourishment before Communion. Insomnia, severe headache, high or low blood pressure, distressing ~ough, rheumatism, arthritis, a bad cold, hay fever, may frequently make fasting rather difficult, ahd permit liquids. Some kinds of infirmity may last for a long time and permit .liquids daily before Communion; others may be tran.sitory and cause difficulty only for a day or a few days and these latter equally suffice for the use of the concession whenever ~hey occur. Since a moderately serious difficulty in fasting is required for the use of this concession, there are cases of infirmity in which the con-cession may not be used because the fast is no more difficult in these cases than it is for ordinary healthy persons; e.g., a person who has weak eyes or is blind, one who has lost an arm or leg, will have no fasting difficulty arising from his infirmity Unless other circumstances enter into the case. The difficulty in fasting required in order to permit the infirm to 306 November, 1953 THE EUCHARISTIC FAST take liquids before Communion is, according to some commentators, also required in order to permit them to take medicine. However it seems to me that a close reading of the Instruction (n. 1) reveals a distinction between liquid nourishment and medicine. There are two clauses, one concerning liquids, which are permitted fi~nder the con-dition that fasting is difficult; the other cgncerning medicine, which is permitted under the sole condition that it is real medicine. Thus [ conclude that a person with a headache, even though it is not severe enough to make fasting difficult, would still be permitted an aspirin before Communion because he is sick and aspirin is real medicine. ¯ It may happen that someone feels well on rising, but knows from exi~erience that if he fasts until he receives Communion, he will be-come ill. In this case be may take medicine or liquid under the con-cession for the infirm, in order to avoid the sickness. Sometimes a person's sickness is due to his own fault, as when one is ill the morning aft, er an evenir~g of overindulgence in food or d~ink. Nevertheless, he .may use the'concession for the sick, sup-posing that he has the .proper dispositions of body and soul for the reception of.the Blessed Sacrament. We may now examine more .in detail what is meant by liquids and medicines. The liquid permitted to the sick before Communion is anything that can be pour,ed and drunk, except alcoholic bever-ages. Thus milk, tea, coffee, broth, fruit juices, soft drinks, and. heavier liquids like egg hog, milk shake, creamed soup and raw or lightly boiled eggs. The liquid may have some° undissolved solids as lo.ng as it remains a potable liquid; e.g., broth with some bread or cracker crumbs, cereals such as cream of wheat or corn meal when diluted with suffici,ent milk to make them drinkable. But all alco-holic beverages, even with low alcoholic content, are excluded after the midnight preceding Communion. Medicine, either liquid or solid, is permitted so long as it is real medicine, and not merely something nourishing or agreeable. True medicine is somethi,ng curative, palliative, or preventive. Any medi-cine prescribed by a doctor is a true medicine, but there are also many substances that are known to be medicine and used without a pre-scription, such as aspirin, sleeping pills, cold remedie~, etc. Commen-tators dispute whether medicine containing alcohol is permitted. It may safely be said that alcoholic beverages may not be used medici-nally before Communion, but a real medicine, even if it contains alcohol, may be used. This accords with the wording of the law, 307 HILARY R. WERTS ° Review for Relioious and the law hardly requires that a sick person know the chemical con-tent of his medicine, or° be prevented from Communiofi because he must take medicine containing some alcohol. We may also note that some things which are ordinarily considered food and not medicine may in certain diseases be real medicine with curative or preventive value. Thus sugar is prescribed for diabetics who have an insulin reactidn. This concession of the use of liquids and medicines for the infirm is granted to priests or rion-priests, and to p~iests for the reception of Communion or th,e celebration of Mass, and applies whether the ¯ Mass or Communion is in the morning or in the evening. The liquids or medicine may be taken once .or several time~ after midnight, and in any quantity. The use of this concession is not directly open to all the infirm, but those who are not priests are required to first consult a confessor, that he may judge whether they may use the concessio~a. This con- ¯ sultation is required in every case, but need be made only once ,for a given cause of infirmity, and the advice of the cQnfessor maY be fol-lowed as long as the infirmity continues, even if it be life-long. When the infirmity diminishes, as during convalescence, the c6ncession may still be used until it is clear that the infirmity no longer makes fasting difficult. . The time'fo[ this consultation is any time before Comm~ion. The confessor's advice is not required to take liquids or medicines. The advice is required for Communion after having taken these things, and so .it may be asked after taking them ~but before receiving Communion. The gravity of the obligation to consult a confessor is discussed by commentators, and some hold that to use the concession without consultation would be to viOlate the law of the Eucharistic fast and commit a grave sin. Others say that a person who is sure that his case comes under the conditions of the concession would sin'venially by disobedience if he were to omit the consultation and rceive Com-munion; and that in an extra.ordinary case, when it is impossible to. consult a confessor, he could use the concession without consultation. This opinion may be followed unless the Holy See ~olves the question otherwise. Of course, if a person were not qualified to judge the matter, he would sin at least, venially b,y acting imPrudently. There is"also some discussion about the confessor who is t6 be consulted. The strictest o.pinion is that he must be a priest who 308 November, 1953 THE EUCHARISTIC FAST could h~re and now hear the confession of the one consulting, and this would be required if the advice were sbught in confession. But the law does not require that the advice be sought in confession. It may be asked in private consultation outside the confe~si6nal and, according to atenable opinion, from a priest who can hear confes-sions somewhere, even though he .has no faculties to hear confessions in the place of the consultation or of the person consulting. Certainly no one but a priest may give the required advice, though teachers and others may explain the requirements to their charges. Since the advice of the confessor may be asked out of confession, it follows'that it may be asked in personal interview, by phone or by letter, or by an int.ermediary,such as a parent or other relative, a Sister or nurse in a hospital, a teacher, etc. The advice is personal and in-dividual and could not be given to a large group together, such as Ill the people attending Mass; but.if there is a group in which the con- "fessor knows that all those present have the same reason for the use of the concession, he could advise the group together, as when all the nurses present are on night duty, or all the people present must make a long trip to Mass, and thus come under the concessions to be seen later. As seen above, a person who is not a priest must consult a con- . fessor before using the concession for the sick (and also the conces-sions to be seen below). Must the sick priest also consult a confessor before using this concession to receive Communion or to celebrate Mass? "A~ first sight the law seems to requlke this, and some com-mentators thus interpret the law., But many, i~ncluding some who are connected with the Holy Office in Rome, say that the sick priest need not consult a confessor. This seems reasonable, for if the priest can decide for others, he should be able t9 decide ~or himself. With-out entering into all the arguments, it might be well to consider one point, The Instruction of the'Holy Office concerning the sick (n. 3) says: "Priests who are ill., may likewise take advantage of the dispensation." The word likewise is a translation of the.word pariter, meaning "likewise," "in the same way." Many'commenta-tors r~fer this word to what has gone before, and understand the law to gay that priests may use the dispensation in the same way as the faithful, that is, .after consulting a confessor. It seems to be as well or even better to refer the word to what follows, and understand the sentence to mean that priests are given permission to .use the dispen-sation as well for celebrating Mass as for receiving Communion, 309 HILARY R. WERTS Review for Reliqious which is a new and very noteworthy concession, emphasized by the word pariter. The next concession is for priests in circumstances other than sickness which make fasting difficult. Three specific causes of diffi-culty are set down and the concession is grant.ed to piiests in these circumstances, without the need of consulting a confessor, and even incases where the pri, est couId fast without difficulty. The three causes are exclusive, and the concession is not to be extended to other circumstano~s, but actually the three given causes cover most of the difficult cases. The first cause is the late hour of celebrating Mass. The hour is defined as nine o'clock in the morning. If a priest celebrat,~s Mass after this hour he may take non-alcoholic !iquids as explained above, up to one hour before the beginning of Mass, and may take them as often as he wishes. The time in this case must be measured mathe-matically. There must be a full hour of fasting before the beginning of Mass. And the Mass must start after nine o'clock. If the priest leaves the sacristy promptly for a scheduled nine o'clock Mass, it will be after nine when he begin? the Mass at the foot of the altar with the sign of the cross, and he is a proper subject for this concession. When a priest is celebrating more than one Mass, and one of them is after nine o'clock, he fulfills the cbndition and may us~ the dispensation by taking liquids any time after .midnight, and therefore before his. earlier Mass, but he must observe the prescription of fasting from the liquids for one hour before each Mass. Thus if he celebrates at eight and nine o'clock, he could take liquids before seven o'clock; if he celebrates at six and nine o'clock, he could take liquids before five and again after the first Mass but before eight o'clock. The second cause which allows priests the use Of liquids up to one hour before the beginning of Mass is heavy work of the ministry done before Mass. No exact definition of this work is given, but in view of the definition of a late hour given above, and of a long jour-ney given in the next cause, it would seem safe to say that one hour or more of concentrated work, such as hearing confessions, taking~ Communion to the sick, preparing a sermon, participating in solemn ceremonies, and the like, would allow the concession, but not an hour of puttering at odds and ends while waiting for Mass time. The third cause permitting liquids to the priest up to one hour before the beginning of Mass is a long journey, before Mass. A long journey is defined by the Holy Office as a distanoe of a mile and a 310 November, 1953 THE EUCHARISTIC FAST quarter on foot, which is a walk of about 20 or 25 minutes. If transportation is used, the distance must be greater in proportion to the kind of conveyance, the d!fficulty of the road, and the condition of the traveler. The inconvenience of the trip by conveyance should be equivalent to the inconvenience of a walk of a mile and a quarter. For a healthy person and a good road, it would seem that about forty minutes by car, or thirty minutes by bus, or twenty minutes by bicycle, would be a long journey in the sense of this law. Where the road or the weather is bad, or the person old or unwell, this distance may be shortened proportionately. Since water no longer breaks the fast, it is noted that a priest celebrating more than one Mass may take the ablutions in each Mass, but using only water except at the last Mass. However, the Holy Office makes an exception to this in the case of Christmas and All Souls Day, if the priest celebrates three Masses on these feasts without interruption. In this case he should observe the rubrics of the missal which require the omission of the ablutions in the first two Masses. If on these two days the priest should take the ablutions with water, he would not be breaking his fast but he would be violating the rubrics. The Holy Office says that if the binating or trinating priest in-advertently takes wine at the ablutions of a Mass before his last one, he may still celebrate the subsequent Mass or Masses. Some commen-tators hold that this permission is granted only if the priest has some special need to celebrate the subsequent Mass, e.g. because it is a sched-uled Sunday Mass. But others say that the law does not necessarily mean any particular need for the Mass, and that the priest may pro-ceed with his Masses for no greater reason than his own devotion. It would seem that if the priest inadvertently took the wine ablu-tion into the chalice in his earlier Mass, and noticed it before con-suming the wine, he would not be obliged to dispose of it some other ~vay, but could consume it. However, if he deliberately took the wine ablution at Mass, not intending to binate, and later the need for another Mass arose, he could not celebrate again .unless there were sufficient need to allow him to celebrate after breaking his fast. But in view of the present mitigation of the law, one might be less severe than formerly in weighing this need. Having seen the concessions for priests who will celebrate Mass, we come to the concession for communicants. This concession, simi-lar to but somewhat different from the preceding, is the one which 311 HILARY Rz WERTS Re, view/or Reli~lious rules the reception of Holy Communion for all non-priests, even though they be religious or clerics in the major orders of subdeacon or deacon, and it also applies to priests who are to communicate rather than celebrate, as for example, priests who do not c~lebrate Mass on Holy Saturday. The concession is given for three exclusive causes of grave diffi-culty, namel~, fatiguing work ¯before Communion, late hour of. Communion, or a long journey before Commianion. The concession requires consultation of a confessor, as seen ~above for the infirm. When the" concession is allowed, the communicant may take .liquids as often as he wisheL from midnight until one hour b~fore Com-munion, and of course water at any time. No solid food,or alcoholic drink is allowed after midnight. Note that the hour is measured be-fore Communion, while for the celebrant we saw that it is measured before the beginning of Mass. The period of fasting must be a full hour and if in doubt about the exact time of Communion one must leave some margin Of time; or risk arriving at Communion before the full hbur is completed and thus be deprived of Communion, for there m'ust be no diminution of the hour. There are various opinions as to the application of the three causes of grave difficulty. One opinion requires not only the exist-ence of one of these three causes, but also the existence of at I~east a moderately grave difficulty in fasting from midnight for this particu-lar communica.nt, A second opinion holds that if one. of the three, causes exists, we may presume that it is actually difficult for any par-ticular person to observe the fast" from midnight, and so he should be allowed to use the concession unl.ess it is clear that fasting causes him no difficulty. A third opinion holds that the only difficulty required is the actual existence of one of the three given causes. For example, if one must make a long journey to church, he may be allowed to use the concession without inquiry as to the inconvenience he would suf-fer by fasting from midnight. TJae practical application of these¯ different opinions will be the same except in border-line cases in which the third opinion will cre-ate less anxiety in the confessor and the comrrluriicant than will the other two opinions. This third opinion has the fewest supporters,. ¯ but I adopt it'as the easiest to. apply and as defensible according to the meaning of the law. Although the tenor of the law is that it in-tends to relieve those who experience grave difficulty in fasting from midnight, it also states that there is grave difficulty in certain cases 312 November, 1953 ¯ THE EUCHARISTIC FAST given as examples. The C0n~titution also insinuates that some cir-stances which do not ~eem to be serious in a single case may have a serious cumulative effect over an extended period. Thus 'the Consti-tution says that the burden of a priest's Sunday ministry unques-tionably undermines his health; the conditions of work in the mod-ern economy and the conditions of modern living especially after re-cent wars have caused a general decline of health. The Constitution, norm V, grants the concession "because of grave incon.venience-- that is, because Of fatiguing work, or the lateness of the hour . or the long distance." (italics supplied), signif~ring that these three conditions are actually grave difficulties. The introduction to the ¯ Instruction says the concessions may be used by those who find them-selves in the particular conditions specified in the Constitution, which in this.concession are the three given causes. The Instruction states 'the concession to the sick conditionally,."if because of their illness~ they are unable without grave inconvenience, to observe a complete fast," signifying that illness may or may not be a cause of grave in-convenience. But in the concession to communicants who are not ill, it states directly that the three enumerated circumstances are (not rna~] be) causes of grave inconvenience. Furthermore, the spirit of these, documents is very lenient, considering a mile and a quarter as a gravely inconvenient walk and nine o'clock as a gravely inconvenient late horn:, if these are considered as.generally grave, there seems to be little room for a reasonable decision that in some.exceptional cases they are not grave. To draw a line betw,een grave and not grave in this matter seems to be practically impossible and the attempt to do so would lead to anxiety and scruples. So it seems to be in accord' with the meaning and spirit of this law to allow the concession to all communicants who are in one of thd three given circumstances, without trying to measure the gravity of the difficulty of fasting for each communicant. ¯ The first cause given, fatiguing work, is illustrated in the law by the cases of night workers in factories, ships or other transportation, ~hose who spend the night in the'service of the sick or as watchmen, and mothers who must perform domestic duty before going to Com~ reunion. The work may be an all-night occupatign, or it may be work done in the morning for a period long enough to make it fa-tiguing, or it may be work done during some part of the night with some sleep afterwards, as when a nurse is called at night for some emergency. An hour's heavy work in the morning would seem to jus- 313 HILARY R. WERTS Reuieto /:or Religious tify the use of the concession. Work done late in the evening does not seem to be ordinarily included in this cause, but .such work and even work done earlier might sometimes be so fatiguing that it would permit use of the concession. The law also mentions pregnant women,rand probably considers them subjects for the concession in-dependently of any work they must do before Communion, merely by reason of the pregnancy. The second cause is the late hour at which alone the communicant can receive. The late hour is not defined, but since nine o'clock has been defined as a late hour for the celebrant, it must also be a late hour for the communicant. Perhaps it was not defined because it maC/ happen that a time before nine o'clock will be a late hour for those who must rise very early. The Instruction gives the example of Communion in a place where a priest is not able to say Mass early because he must come from some distance, as happens when on.e priest has charge of two or more churches. Although the Constitution says: "The ,lateness of the hour at which alone they can receive," this must not be understood to mean that it is absolutely impossible to receive earlier, but rather that it is difficult to receive earlier, or there is some necessity for waiting until a late hour. The concession could be allowed to these: the parent who must care for the children while the other parent goes to an early Mass and then himself goes to a .later Mass; one who is awake until a very late hour at night and so needs to sleep late in the morn-ing; one who needs a late sleep on Sunday or a holiday to rest from his week's work; one who must choose a late Mass to keep peace in the family; the altar boy who is assigned to serve a late Mass, even if he could go to another earlier Mass; a worker who could.conveni-ently go to noon Mass down town but would find it inconvenient to rise early enough for Mass before work; some special reason for a late Mass, as when the bride and groom wish to receive at a late nup-tial Mass, or the family wishes to receive at a late Requiem Mass; and in general, whenever in view of the person's accustomed rising hour, the time of the first conveniently available Mass is relatively late. But one may not without some necessity freely choose the later of two Masses in order to be able to take liquids before Com-munion. A special case of a late hour, mentioned in the documents, is that of children who would have to go to church, communicate, and then return home for breakfast before school. In order to obviate this 314 Nooernber, 1953 THE EUCHARISTIC FAST difficulty, these children may take liquid nourishment up to an hour before Communion. It must be admitted that this concession is not without its own problems. Although a child could have a sufficiently nourishing breakfast made up entirely of liquids, still it might not be a satisfying breakfast for those accustomed to a more substantial meal, and the liquid breakfast might require that the child and hi~ family rise earlier than usual in order to finish it an hour before Com-munion time. From this case of the school child we may conclude that some-times the hour may be considered late because the available time be-tween Holy Communion and other duties does not permit the com-municant to obtain breakfast, readily after Communion. This may be the case not only for school children, but also for college students, and for people who work away from home and do not have conveni-ent time after Mass to return home for breakfast. The third cause which allows this concession is a long distance to travel to church. The distance in this concession is to be measured in the way explained above for priests, i.e., a mile and a quarter walk, or the equivalently inconvenient ride. Here again there must be some need for the travel. One could not choose a more distant church when there is a nearer one unless there was some fairly serious reason for doing so. Sufficient reason might be some special solemnity at the distant church, e.-g., the first Mass of a member of the family; a group Communion of a family or of the Holy Name Society or the Knights of Columbus; .an alumni or father-son Communion-group at a school; a baccalaureate Mass; the close of a M'ission or novena one has attended; but hardly the mere devotional desire to communi-cate in the distant church rather than in a near one. The final concession concerns evening Masses. These Masses are not directly permitted, but the local Ordinary may permit them on the days specified in the law, and he may permit them in all .the churches of the diocese, or in certain designated churches. He may also permit them in the oratories of religious. There must b~ some need for the evening Mass, for workers who cannot go to morning Mass, or for a gathering for a religious or social festivity such as a Eucharistic Congress, a Sodality Convention, a business, labor or scout convention, etc. The evening Mass may begin at four o'clock or later. Some have thought that an eoenin9 Mass differs from a night Mass, and have tried to assign the latest hour at which this Mass may begin as some hour earlier than midnight, but the law does 315 HILARY R. WERTS not ~eem to set a final hour at any time before midnight, and the hour may be defined by the local. Ordinary according to the need. When evening Masses are permitted, all are free t6 go to the Masses and to receive Communion, but no one may communicate twice on the same day, nor may the priest celebrate morning and evening of the same day unless he may legitimately binate on that day. Neither priest.nor faithful need consult a konfessor under this concession. The Eucharistic fast required for evening Communion is a fast "of three hours from solid food and one hour from liquids, and the time.is measured before Communion for the communicant but before the beginning of Mass for the celebrant. No hard liquor is allow~d ¯ after the preceding midnight.Light alcoholic beverages such as beer and wine are allowed in moderation, but only during a meal. Some commentators hold that these beverages may be taken at only one meal, even if the person ~ats two meals before a Mass late in the evening, But it may I~e admitted with other commentators that the law does not intend to exclude the use of these beverage's from any meal taken before evening Mass or Communion. This new law of the Eucharistic fast is a generous help for the increase of frequent Communion. Priests and other teachers of the faithful can use it effectively, as the Holy Father wishes, to encourage the frequent reception of the Blessed Sacrament, and the faithful should take full advantage of these concessions to increase their re-ception of the'Bread of Life in proportion to the greatlyincreased convenience of its reception. " BOOK NOTICI: Over twenty years ago Father Bernard Hausmann, S.J., first translated from the German a notable book on-the devotion to the Sacred Heart written by Father Christian Pesch, S.J., under the title of OUR BEST FRIEND. World War II and other causes kept the book out of print for some years. Now the publisher has reset the book entirely in very legible type. Its thirty chapters, each acom-plete unit in itself, offer ideal reading matter for daily spiritual reading during the month of June; or for the Fridays of the year. The central thought of this work, that Jesus is t, ruly our best Friend, contains the strongest possible motive for fervent practice of devotion to the Sacred Heart. (Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing Cc~mpany, 1953. Pp. 228. $3.00.) 316 Motu Proprio ,Jubilee C.J. McNaspy, S.J. ~IGH MASS ~nd possibly an added toothsome tidbit, at least for the choir, mark St. Cecilia's feast in many religious com-munities. This year is likely to see a fuller fe.stivity on No-vember 22, the golden jubilee of Blessed Pius X's Motu~Proprio on ¯ sacred music. 'Everything about'this famed document is rwell known to music teachers and chant directors, who often have had to flourish it in defense of their innovations or renovations. But this fiftieth anniversary may be a fit .occasion for all religious, however unmusical, .to recall what the Church has to say about her own music. If the Motu Proprio were a dead letter no one would take the trouble to commemorate it. Blessed Pius himself saw to it that this would not easily happen by enshrining his prescriptions in tt~e pre-paratory draft of canon 1264. His immediate, successor, Benedict XV, not long after stated: "We do not wish that the lapse of time should weaken the force of these wise rules.; indeed, we desire them to have their full force." On the silver anniversary, 1928, Pius XI indeed bolstered them with a new papal document, Diuini Cultus, in which he expr~essed surprise "that some have declared that these laws, though so solemnly promulgated, were not binding on their obedience." .Finally, our present Holy Father devotes several pa.ragraphs to sacred music, alway~ stressing the sameprinciples, in his masterly Mediator Dei. No one, unless wi~h a peculiar axe to grind, can say that the Motu Proprio is out of date. Another unfounded notion one sometimes hears is th~t the Motu Proprio is a bit extreme and not practical enough for us to do anything about it. The full reply to this objection would be simply to read it through. By no means does it. state or imply' that one should use only Gregorian chant in sacred worship. Quite explicitly the Holy Father states that "modern music is also admitted in church, as it also offers compositions of such goodness, seriousness, and grav-ity that they are not at all unworthy of liturgical functions." And if this were not enough, the Holy Father explains that "the Church: has always recognized and favored the progress of the arts, admitting to the service of worship everything good and beautiful that genius has been able to discover throughout the centuries." No, only one 317 C. J. McNAsPY Review for Religious type of music is condemned in the Motu Proprio, and that by indi-. rection: the music that does not possess "the qualities proper to the liturgy, namely holiness, and goodness of form, from which spon-taneously there springs its other mark, uniuersaIit~t.:" It is hard to see how anyone could find this either radical or extreme. So much has been done, especially during recent years, to carry out the requirements of the Motu Proprio that another possible qualm may occur: isn't it all so obvious that we needn't discuss it any more? Mu~n personal contact with religious, younger ones particu-larly, is so encouraging that one is tempted to let down, feeling that the battle has been won. The ever-.widening conquests of the Gre-gorian Institute, Piu; X School, and other liturgical or musical or-ganizations must surely bring added joy to the Blessed Pontiff who so recently launched the whole movement. But when one leaves religious house and seminary to venture forth into parish, or even, in some cases, cathedral, the situation is dismal indeed. True, the more offensive, bumptious Masses usual in the last century will h~rdly now be heard. But in too many instances, what replaced them is little better. In fact, there are parishes, even deaneries, Where .the Motu Proprio would seem never to have been promulgated. Sad indeed would be the Blessed Pastor were he not already in heaven. It was with real poignancy that he had written, fifty years ago, while intro-ducing his great statement, of the "many prejudices so stubbornly held even~among responsible and pious persons"; not all of the stub-bornness is gone .today. Need we recall once again that all.discussion of the role of sacred music in divine worship must be situated in the total context of the very m. eaning of liturgy.? The question cannot be simply decided on a purely musical basis. It cannot be just a matter of aesthetic value, abstractly considered, if that were possible. Much less can it be just a question of "I don't know anything about music but I know what I like." ¯ Music that would ~ank high on some ecclesiastical Hit Pa-rade or even music performed in Carnegie Hall will not necessarily be suitable as worship music. Too often, even now, dubious standards are implicitly set up. A meditative reading of the Motu Proprto could remedy that. "Sacred music as an integral part of the solemn liturgy shares in its general, purpose, which is the glory of God and the sanctification and edification of the faithful." Thus far no cavilling possible. "Its principal function is to adorn with suitable melody the liturgical text 318 November, 1953 MOTU PROPRIO JUBILEE proposed to the understanding of the faithful." Here it becomes clearer that music's place must be secondary, that of a handmaid, as Pius XI would make explicit. If tb? sacred text becomes a plaything, or in any way obscured instead of pointed and intensified, then some-thing has gone askew; this may be good concert music; it is no longer liturgical music. Then the Pontiff enumerates the three qualities of sacred music which we gave above. By "holiness" he means ~hat all profanity must be excluded, "not only in itself but also in the manner in which it is presented by the perfgrmers." Farther on he explains that nothing may be admitted ~hat contains anything "reminiscent of theatrical motifs," or "fashioned even in external pattern on the movement of profane pieces." Music of a romantic or sentimental flavor (aptly called "googaudery") in which the."pleasure directly produced by music is not always kept within bounds," is evi-dently excluded under this heading. Next, music "must be true art, for otherwise it is not possible for. it to have that effect on listeners which the Church intends to achieve in admitting the art of music into bet liturgy." This precept is commonly violated in two ways: either by singing music of low artistic worth, music that would never make its mark in "the world ~vere it not put forth under the aegis of the liturgy; or by singing worth~(music in an unworthy way. The second fault, while often less grievous because prompted by good. intentions, can sometimes do more harm than good. People have frequently grown to dislike Gregorian chant or the Church's great polyphony because they were performed with more good will than skill. For this reason Plus XI insisted that at least seminaries teach "the higher and 'aesthetic' study of plainchant and sacred music, of polyphony and organ, which the clergy should by all means thoroughly know." As the seminaries turn out pastors competent in this field, it is likely that choirs will reflect their understanding of sacred music, artistically and liturgically. The third mark of liturgical music, "universality," means that "though every nation is allowed to admit into its ecclesiastical com-positions those particular forms that constitute, so to speak, the spe-cific character of its own music, still these must be subordinated in such a way to the general character of sacred music that no one of another nation may receive a bad impression-on hearing them." This delicate catholicity, a tension between unity and diversity, is perhaps 319 C. J. MCNASPY the hardest principle to apply. However,. ,the Pontiff goes, ,on. ex-plicitly- to condemn the operatic style of his own country. We wonder~ what he would think of certain rather eccentric efforts to produce Negroid or "western" sacred music for use.in our country. But popes are ever practical, and to prevent us from being too abstract in our approach, the Holy Father immediately gives concrete examples of what the Church does want. "These qualities are found, in the highest degree in Gregorian chant,~'' which "has always been considered the supreme model 'of sacred music." Then he sets down, in italics and as unambiguously as possible, the fol-lowing'rule: "The more closely a composition for church approaches the Gregorian melody in movement, inspiration, and flavor, the more sacred and liturgical it is; and the more it departs from that supreme model, the less worthy it is of the temple." It would" take real in-genuity to misunderstand that. Blessed Pius next forestalls a possible escape. Granted, one might object, that.the chant is so sacred and worthy; but isn't other music really more solemn? No, says the Pope, "it must be held by all as certain that an ecclesiastical function loses none of its solemnity when accompanied by no other music than Gregorian chant alone.'.' How-ever, he adds, "the qualities mentioned above are also possessed in an eminent degree by classical polyphony, especially by the Roman school, which in the sixteenth century reached its highest perfection in the work 6f Pierluigi da Palestrina. . Classical polyphony is quite close to the supreme model of all sacred music, namely Gre-gbrian chant, and for that reason deserved to be received together with Gregorian chant in the most solemn functions of the Church." A fir~al scruple: is this not reactionary,, or at least over-conserva-tive? As an interesting corroboration of the Holy Father's stand I believe we could give quotations from almost every leading con-temporary music historian or theorist. To cite only the most recent,, and surely, one of the most eminent, Harvard's Professor. A. T. Davison, a no/~-Catholic. " His new book, Church Music: Illusion and Reality, could almost be called a commentary on the Motu Pro-prio. After calling our chan~ "the unchallenged example o~t:, worship become music" and speaking of Palestrina and other polyphonic corn- .posers in terms of the highest pr~iise, Dr.Davison states in reference to both: "It may appear to the reader that this music of the Roman Cath-olic Church has been rather aggressively held up as a model.If this 320 November, 1953 COMMUNICATIONS is so, it is only because of a conscientious attempt to deal objectively with the matter; for that particular music, it would seem, fulfills two all-important requisites of true church music: first, in vying with the greatest music in any field, sacred, secular, or instrumental; and second, in creating an atmosphere of worship wherein not man but God appears as the important figure in the transaction." . Surely no fine~ tribute to the sainted Pope and his liturgical work for Christ could be offered. Communications Reverend Fathers: The September issue of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS reached me t£day and I should like" to cl~arify a reference made by WilliamGrem-ley, in his article entitled "Intergroup Relatiohs," pages 231-241. The quotation given by Mr. Gremley from This Is Our Town appeared in the old edition of the book. I have since revised all the Faith and Freedom" Readers and the particular story referred to by Mr. Gremley is no longer in the new edition. Mr. Gremley gives 1952 as the date of copyright which is also in-correct. The story referred t0 in This Is Our, Town appeared in the 1942 edition. The re~;ised book was published last spring and has a 1953 copyright. There is no 1952'edition of this particular volume. --SISTER M. MARGUERITE, S.N.D: Reverend Fathers : His Excellency, Bishop Gonzaga, of the Palo (Leyte) diocese in the Philippines; has asked me, during my brief visit to the United States, to try to interest some American Sisterhoods to undert~ike educational work in his diocese. Will you allow me to publicize his request through your e~teeme'd columns? The Holy See has entrusted to this zealous and schokirly Filipino prelate the spiritual welfare of over 1,000,000 Catholics on the large island of Leyte. During my twenty years in the Philippines, I have had the privilege of. long acquaintance with him, and know well his situation. With only about sixty-five priests (some of whom are old and sickly) and only three schools conducted by Sisters, he is in desperat9 need of spiritual reinforcements and most anxious to obtain American Sisters, and also priests, for his diocese. 321 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Reoiew/or Religious Anyone acquainted with our own country realizes that we have many regions at l~ome which need additional laborers in the vineyard of the Lord. It is this situation, no doubt, which is preventing many of our high-minded ecclesiastical, and religious superiors from allow-ing their .American subjects to go to foreign fields. On the other hand, Catholic history from the time of the Apostles is replet~ with examples of how the Church has always been prodigal in sending missionaries to foreign fields, even though their home lands were not yet fully manned nor completely evangelized. And they have been richly rewarded by the Holy Spirit, \Vho has multiplied vocations to their ranks as a blessing for their sacrifices. Those interested in further details will please write .to the under-signed. REV. G. J. WILLMANN, S.J. P. O. Box.510, Manila, Philippine Islands --29~ There are members o~ a commun;ty ~;v;ng ~ogefber who bare not spo-ken to one another over a period of four or five-years. Is the local superior obliged to try to correct this situatlbn or should a higher superior who !~nows of the maffer take a hand? As a general norm local situations as far as possible would be handled by the local superior. For a good reason in a particular case it might be deemed advisable that some other than the local superior take care of the matter; t.he case could then be referred to higher supe-riots. Such a good reasbn could be discrepancy in age between the superior and the subject'.who needs correction, possible lack of ex-perience in a younger superior, a question of tactfulness, a clash of personalities, and the like. In our instance the higher superior is al-ready acquainted with the situation; hence the lotal and higher supe-riors might confer together regarding the more prudent and more efficacious way of handling the case. Is it the mind of the Church tha÷ S~sters who de~re and even ask for correction and guidance from their superiors be left wlthouf it on ÷he ex 322 November, 1953 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS pressed opinion that the Sisters are grown women and know what they are supposed fo do? Canon 530 strictly forbids all religio~s superiors in any way to indfice their subjects to make a manifestation of conscience to them. It does not, however, forbid subjects to open their minds freely, and of their own accord to their superiors; in fact, it encourages filial trust in superiors and, if the superior is a priest, it also recommends sub-jects to reveal doubts and anxieties of conscience to such a superior. Consequently subjects are free to go to superiors, even those who are not priests,~ with their problems, especially if the problem does not in~rolve a question of sin. Superiors on their part will usually lend a sympathetic ear. But the case might arise in which the superior did not feel competent tO handle a certain problem; or one could, en-visage a particular case in which the superior judged that it would be better for the individual to resolve some simpler difficulty for himself and thereby buiid up self-confidence. In these matters a great deal of tact and Christian charity is required on the part of superiors; but subjects also should practice charity in moderating ~he demands they make upon superiors. Some problems could easily be solved on the individual's initiative after prayer and reflection. A decade ago the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS invited discussion on the topic of spiritual direction. In the concluding survey (II [ 1943 ], 187-201) the twofold prong of spiritual direction was indicated, namely instruction and encouragement. On pages 19 I-192 the con-clusion is voiced that need of instruction should certainly decrease with the i~assage of years to such a point that normally the intellec-tual help required of one's spiritual director would be mainly friendly criticism. "In other words, these religious plan their own lives, submit their plans to a director for approval or disapproval,. and then occasionally make a report on the success or failure of the plan." In regard to encouragement, the need is more individual ~nd is usually not lessened with the years. "At various periods in our lives, most of us need sympathetic help or paternal correction lest we lose heart or descend to low ideals." Both superiors and subjects might profit by keeping those considerations in mind. --31-- If a councillor is absent and the local superior, who is not a councillor, is called to a council meeting, does the local superior give her vote ~n ÷l~e order the absent councillor would have or after all the councillors? 323 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious ¯ Canon 106, n. 5 says in part.that among the members of any college (collegium) the right of precedence shall be determined by the legitim.ate constitutions of the college; otherwise by .lawful custom; in default of that, by the norms of the common law. Hence, the con-stitutions of the institute should be consulted. If they make no pro-vision, then follow whatever has been the legitimate custom (which here means the customary way of acting), in this situation. If neither the constitutions nor custom provide a solution, canon 106, n. 1 states that one who represents another enjoys the precedence'that person has; but anyone who is in a council or similar meeting .as a proxy yields precedence to those of the same rank who are personally present. Accordingly, then, a local superior wl~o is not a councillor but who has been summohed to take the place organ absent councillor would vote after the councillors who are present in person. m32m Acjeneral chapter is held in a branch house. When the time comes for voting, does the local superior who is not a councillor .cjeneral vote before or after the ~ouncillors cjeneral? (It is customary for Junior Sisters 1.o vote first, followed by Senior Sistei-s.I The first answer is, consult your constitutions. If they say. nothing, the.n follow whatever has been customarily done in this matter. If no solution is forthcoming from either of those sources in the order enumerated, it would seem that the local superior in this case would yield precedence to the councillors general since the latter in this instance seem to be acting in their "general" capacity, so to speak. (Possibly some institutes follow a simpler method of having all capitulars vote according to strict seniority, upwards or down-wards, without regard to offices h~ld.) ~33~ Propositions to be presented to our cjenera! chapter are very often sent throucjh some member of our cjeneral council or fhroucjh the cjenera/ council. 'Has the cjeneral, councll the right to discard a proposition that pertains dlrec~ly or indirectly to the cjeneral council itself, since the cjen-eral chapter, wh[le in session, is the highest aufhorlfy ~n the concjrecjatlon? Perhaps your constitutions or legitimate custom indicate that proEositions intended for the genekal chapter are to be forwarded ,dlrough the counciI16rs general, and that these latter have the power to judge the feasibility of presenting any such proposition to the gen- 324 0, November, 1953 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS eral chapter. Otherwise, an answer (in part) appearing in the RE-VIEW ~:OR RELIGIOUS, XI (1952), 309-310 in response to a similar question .says: "Usually they [requests" or complaints intended for thegeneral chapter] are given to one of the delegates to'the general chapter who, in turn, at the proper time, turns them in to the special committee appointed for the purpose of screening such requests .and complaints. Those that are considered worthy of the attention of the general chapter are proposed to it in due time during the chapter of affairs. At the end of the. chapter, before a vote to adjourn is taken, .any delegate may ask tha~ a request or complaint which has been turned in but has not been submitted to the general chapter 'should now be read, and the chapter will then vote first on whether the request or complaint is to be considered or not. If"it is "rejected, that is the end of the matter. If the majority is for considering it, it will then be 'considered in the same way as .the other requests or com-plaints which Were already submitted to the general chapter." m34.- ~ One of our novices left religious llfe aboufa year ago because of ill health. Now she has fully recovered and would like ÷o re-enter our com-munity. We know she has ÷o make a new novitiate, but does she have to make a new postulancy? Unless your own constitutions require a new postulancy, the ap-plicant does not have to rbpeat the postulancy. There is no special provision in the°Code of Canon Law for this case, but the conclusion is reached by analogy with two other provisions in the Code. Accgrding to canon 640, § 2, if a religious who after making profession obtained an indult of secularization is readmitted later on to a religious institute by virtue of an apostolic indult, he must make a new novitiate and a new profession, but nothing is said about making a new postulancy also. Hence a new postulancy need not be made in that case. ~ Likewise in an institute which has two canonical classes of mem-bers, if a novice or professed passes from one ciass to the other, a new novitiate must be made, but no new postulancy is required (~ee canon 558). Hence by analogy with the above two provisions of the Code, no new postulancy is required in the case proposed in our question. (See also REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, I [1942], 357.) 325 Book Reviews RELIGIOUS MEN AND WOMEN IN THE CODE. By Joseph Creusen,'S.J. Fifth Engfish edition, revised and edited to conform wi÷h the sixth Frefich edition by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Pp. xlv -f- 322. Bruce Publish° ing Company, Milwaukee, 19S~}. $S.S0. Religious superiors and subjects will welcome this latest edition of Father Creusen's vhluable work. In editing the fifth English edi-tion, Father Ellis has painstakingly made the various changes, addi-tions, and omissions found in the latest French edition. These emen-dations, due partly to a constant effort to keep the work up-to-date with recent pronouncements of the Holy See, serve to enhance the undoubted worth of this book. It should be kept handy alike for r~ference shelf and classroom study of the Church's law for religious. Something about the annual report and the new questionnaires for the quinquennial report is included. Appendix III gives an English translation of the questionnaire for the quinquennial report of dioce-san congregations and societies. As the author remarks in his preface: "We have not deemed it necessary to add a chapter on Secular Insti-tutes, since by no title' are they a form of the religious life nor are their members religious." There is a revised bibliography. A larger type has been used for the table of contents.--F. N. KORTH, S.J. FUNDAMENTAL PSYCHIATRY. By John R. Cavanagh, B.S., M.D., ¯ C.P., K.S.G., end James B. McGoldrlck, S.J., S.T.D., Ph.D. Pp. x Jr- 582. Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 19S3. $S.50. For fifty years psychiatry has drawn man's psychic portrait across the medical horizgn without a spiritual intellect or will, with-out a spiritual soul. For decades the brilliant analytic theories and therapeutic techniques, often investigated with scientific precision, have been built upon a false psychic substructure of practical mate-rialism and ihstinctive determinism. The emerging portrait tends to be a distorted caricature of human nature and psychic life as a mere mixture of matter and determined instinct. As a net result, psychia-trists are now left without adequate goals in life to point out to their patients. To interpret, to correct, to refashion psychiatry on the same old base has long been unsatisfactory. The present authors challenge the jaded materialistic framework at every turn ,and discard it com'- pletely. They have produced a first-rate psychiatry textbook that 326 BOOK REVIEWS turns a new medical page and builds the young ~cience of psychiatry entirely upon the time-tested framework of traditional scholastic psychology. This book is important for its psychological structure and its emphases. Perhaps more than any other psychiatry book today it emphasizes, with scientific precision, the spiritual intellect, will and soul; volitional freedom at the root of mental disorder; character formation based upon intellectual, and moral habits; and .the need of an adequate philosophy of life for true mental balance taken from both reason and revelation. Pervading the book with regard to etiology is the author's insistence upon the psychogenic or nonmaterial origin of mental disorders caused by a misuse of man's spiritual faculties. The high caliber and clear structure of Fundamental Ps~chiatr~ reminds one of Dr. Strecker's excellen~ book Fundamentals ot: Psgt-chiatr~ l. It has seven major sections, thirty-one chapters critically written and well-documented, sixty-five thorough case histories, and rich bibliographical material. Publishers and authors have designed a clear and highly readable book. It opens with intr6ductory con- ¯ cepts, the extent of mental disorders, and a picture of normal per-sonality. Five major sections treat of etiology, the clinical approach to psychiatry, psychoneuroses, psychoses, and borderlands of psy-chiatry. The conclusion is devoted to psychiatry, philosophy, and religion. The growing importance of psychiatry makes thi~ an important and valuable book for Catholic hospitals, doctors, nurses, and coun-selors, and for those engaged .in educational and sociological 'work involving modern psychiatric pkinciples.--CHARLES NASH, S.J. MOST REVEREND ANTHONY 3. SC~HULER, S.J.,D.D.,FIRST BISHOP OF I:L PASO, AND SOME CIATHOLIC~ ACTIVITIES IN THE DIOC~ESE BETWEEN 1915-1942. By Sls~'er M. Lilliana Owens, S.L., Ph.D. Pp. xxiv -J- 584. Revls÷a Clatolica Press, El Paso, 1953. $3.50. This labor of love but also a heavily documented work intro-duces us into the career of another "first l~ishop" in the United States coming from the Society of Jesus. When the diocese of El Paso was erected in 1915, the second choice for this new See was the pastor of ¯ a church in Denver, Colorado. He had seen the southwest in earlier days and knew something of the complicated and almost insoluble problems that would have to be faced. But obedience imposed the task; with confidence in God's help the new bishop put his shoulder BOOK REVIEWS Review for Reliytotts to the task. For more than a quarter of a century he carried on, then handed over a well-established organization to his successor. Less than two years later death carried his soul before his Maker. The volume is prgfusely illustrated and well printed. Six ap-pendixes add materials to those cited in the course of the narrative. Thirty pages.of bibliography give a riotion of the industry that went into the preparation of this work. There is a carefullY-madE index. In the treatment the author in the main f~llows the topical meth-od, giving for each theme the background and carrying it through the whole period of the episcopate. ]3ecause of this we do not get a very clear picture of the growth of the diocese as a whole. In giving the background more is at times given than is needed for the purpose intended. Fo~ the most part the ]3ishop appears before us, not so much initiating projects of his own, but as discreetly promoting and supporting movements set afoot by others and at times making them his own and thus leading'them to a happy solution. In his administration Bishop Schuler faced unique problems with which he had to deal prudently. Such were the bilingual popula-tion in the diocese, its location in t~ro states, the onrush of exiles due to the persecution in Mexico, the dire poverty of a large portion of the faithful, the shortage of priests and of priestly vocations. Some of these themes are treated with some completeness while others are merely touched upon--the title gives warning that the work. is not meant to be exhaustive.--AUGUSTIN C. WAND, S.J. I WANT TO SEE GOD. A Pra~:fical Synthesis of C:armellfe Splritualify. By P. Marle-Eug~ne, O.C~.D. Translated by Sister M. Verda C~lare, C:.S.C:. Pp. xxli -I- $49. F~des Publishers Association, .C:hicag~ .10, 19S3. $S.7S. This is the first of a two-volume work. The. second is to be en-titled, 1"Am a Daughter of the Church. ¯ Their grew out of a series of .conferences on the Carmelite theory and practice of prayer. St. Teresa of Avila, rather than St. John of the Cross, was chosen as the proxi-mate "guide." Of St. Teresa's writings The lnterior Castle, with its seven "mansioias," was taken as basic and typical and it provides .the plan for this exposition. St. John's doctrine is introduced here and there as a confirmation or completion of St. Teresa's, not as something that. is continuous a'nd unified in itself. Very often fu'r-ther confirmation or illustration is sought from St. Th~r~se of Li-sieux. The work as a whole has five principal parts, three of them being 328 November, 1953 BOOK NOTICES in this volume. The first part is called "Perspectives" and serves as a general introduction. "The First Stages" deals with the matter treated in St. Teresa's first three mansions. Therefore it is ascetical. Next follows "Mystica~ Li~e and Contemplation." In this section-- nearly half of volume .one--there is much that one would hardly ¯ think of in simpl~¢ reading the works of St. Teresa or St. John; for example, ch~apter two on the "The Gifts of the Holy Spirit." The two principal parts reserved for the second volun~e are "To Union of Will" and "Holiness for the Church." On the value of this study as a satisfactory synthesis of Carmelite spiritual teaching we' had better let the Carmelites themselves pro-nounce. Besides it would be premature to judge it before the second and much the more important volume appears. --AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. BOOK NOTICES Highly recommended is THE NEW EUCHARIS:FIC LEGISLATION, by John C. Ford, S.J. This book contains the original Latin texts of the Christus Dominus and the Instruction of the Holy Office, an English translation of these texts, a stimulating and enlightening commentary on the documents, and some brief summaries that should be very useful for confessors, religion teachers, catechism teachers, and parish priests. (New York: P. J. Kenedy U Sons, 1953. Pp. vii -t- 130. $1.50.) Little less than fascinatir~g is .the story of Louis Brisson as told by Katherine Burton in So MUCH So SOON. Carthusiafi-minded himself, this man founded schools for boys and clubs for girls, and the Oblate Fathers and Sisters of St. Francis de Sales to conduct them. Of rare scientific genius, he planned his own buildings and invented various things to keep his foundations operating efficiently. With profound trust in Providence, he quietly saw most of his great works swept a