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Issue 67.3 of the Review for Religious, 2008. ; LiVing Spiritually Being Mentored Praying Revisiti:ng Religious Life QUARTERLY 67 3 2008 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according ~ to Charisms of Catholic religious life, As Pope Paul Vl said, our way.of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ \Veh site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinu,n 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religiou~ ¯ RO. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2008 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific libraryI clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All l copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the ~ first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising,, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collectivd works or anthologies. Such permission ~ will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 67.3 2008 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 240 living spiritually Holy Spirit Spirituality James W. Kinn draws upon the Gospel and Acts of St. Luke and the Gospel of St. John to show how these might lead to an effective spirituality of the Spirit in our lives, A Charity Spirituality for Educators Judith Metz SC explores ways in which the special virtues of the Charity family (humility, simplicity, charity) offer educators guidelines to greater personal spiritual depth and an enriching way of being present in an educational environment. 226 255 266 being mentored St. Th6r~se's Contribution to the Catechism Joseph E Schmidt FSC reflects on the citations of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux found in the Catechism 6f the Catholic Church, particularly emphasizing her contribution to the understanding of prayer. DeSales' ~sion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life Alexander T. Pocetto OSFS presents Francis de Sales' understanding of consecrated life, especially modeled in the Visitation, to give us a deeper appreciation of its relevance to the life and work of the church today. Re'view for Religious 281 286 praying Christian Prayer's Trinitarian Shape John Carroll Futrell SJ weaves together many scripture passages to demonstrate how, consciously or not, Christian prayer has a Trinitarian shape to it. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Midnight Prayer in the Ignatian Exercises Philip Shano SJ proposes that we take a fresh look at what benefits a "midnight meditation" can have for a person in retreat. 290 3O4 revisiting religious life ~ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience Bernard J. Lee SM presents the importance of relational power, the power of the weak, and a meticulous discernment in forming the social matrix of religious obedience. Of Tabernacles and Televisions Patricia McCarthy CND challenges religious to reflect on the importance of the presence of the Blessed Sacrament in their home lives today. Group Reflection / Discussion departments 317 Scripture Scope: St. Paul's Corinthian Correspondence 322 Canonical Counsel: The Lacuna Canon: Equity and Practice 327 Book Reviews 227 67.3 2008 prisms 228 T feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary is celebrated on the last day of the month of May. It may seem to be just a timely liturgical setting between the feast of the Annunciation and the feast of the Birth of John the Baptist. But on closer examination, the content of the feast seems to set a direction for our Christian living throughout these middle months of the church's liturgical year. What we celebrate is the simple event nar-rated in Luke's Gospel about Mary's hastening to help her cousin Elizabeth in the latter months of her pregnancy--a fact which Mary had learned about through the message of the angel Gabriel. It is more than a pleasant visit of relatives. We signify something more by our use of the word visitation. Visitation has a purpose. There is a certain expectation that a visitation is meant to accomplish something. The meeting between par-ties at the time of a visitation has a significance. A meaning of some import is attributed to this encounter. For Elizabeth the very greeting of Mary upon her arrival causes a special stirring in her womb. Elizabeth is inspired by the Spirit to recognize the early pregnancy of Mary, hardly visible to the human, eye. Moreover her faith professes the specialness of Mary, her cousin, by proclaiming that she is "blessed among women." Somehow the leap of the baby within her womb led Elizabeth Review for Religious to proclaim that this baby in its first formation in Mary's womb is truly the blessed One. For Elizabeth, the simple appearance of Mary saying "Here I am" produces such an explosion of faith--an extraordinary moment of spiritual consolation. For Mary, Elizabeth's profusion of faith is like a warm-ing confirmation of all that the angel had told her. She truly is highly favored by God. Her fiat allowed God to find a human home within her. Mary's own faith was so strength-ened by Elizabeth's words that she could only break forth in her own prayer of praise of God. Mary was the first to realize what it really means to bring God to another. Why do we recall this event with our special celebra-tion? What appears to be just a simple helpful visit between two cousins--mothers-to-be--sets a tone and direction for each one of us in our Christian vocation. For us it is meant to be more than just a celebration of an event, however special this event is for Mary and for Elizabeth. We are led to reflect on all the "visits" in our life--how we are being called to make each one of them a visitation. Like Elizabeth, do we find ourselves "blessed" by all the people who appear, unexpectedly or not, in the doorways of our lives? Do we allow ourselves to find God actively working in their lives and ours? Does the ordinary everyday interaction call forth in us a leap of faith that consoles us deeply? Like Mary, do we find that we truly are the "bearers of God" in the simple everyday give-and-take of human conversation? Are we continually in amazement that God desires to work through us in so many effective ways? Looking back on each day's incidents, do we experience a quiet gratitude, a desire to praise the God who chooses to shine out through the limitations of our all-too-human words and actions? David L. Fleming SJ 229 67.3 2008 JAMES W. KINN Holy Spirit Spirituality living spiritually 230 "Perhaps the most neglected area of theology in the West is that of the Holy Spirit," says George Montague.1 He sees an urgent need for such a theology. In 1983 Raymond Brown, the great scripture scholar, noted "an almost total absence of comprehensive books on the Spirit in the New Testament.''2 Pope John Paul urged: "The ecclesiology of the [Second Vatican] Council must be succeeded by a new study of and devotion to the Holy Spirit, precisely as the indispensable complement of the teaching of the council.''3 Recently some efforts have been made to fill this vacuum.4 The present article offers a description of the two dominant pneumatologies found in the New Testament and hopes to show how these might lead to an effective spirituality of the Spirit in our lives. Let us begin with the way the New Testament speaks about Jesus. The synoptic James W. Kitm, an actively retired diocesan priest, wrote about John of the Cross in our 66.2 (2007) issue. His address is 6318 243rd Court; Salem, Wisconsin 53168. Review for Religious Gospels all depict Jesus as imbued with the Holy Spirit, who is the divine influence in his life and ministry. Luke, especially, presents a consistent Spirit Christology in narrative form.5 That is, when he speaks of Jesus as the unique Son of God, as the long-awaited Messiah, and as Savior of the world, he generally refers to the Holy Spirit's influence on him. He describes God's presence and power in Jesus' life in terms of the Spirit. God as Spirit is dynamically active in Jesus in a unique way. We are familiar with the way John's Gospel speaks about Jesus as the revelation of God. The prologue describes Jesus as God's Word (Jn 1:1-14). God as Word "comes down" and is embodied in the person and min-istry of Jesus. This Word is the manifestation of God in history. The rest of John's Gospel does not speak of this "Word," but it presents Jesus as the definitive wisdom and revelation of God. The Wisdom of God, prominent in the wisdom books of the Old Testament, is repre-sented and even personified in Jesus and his teaching.6 John's Gospel presents Jesus as the light of the world, as the whole truth to be believed, and as the visual image of God: "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). These two ways of describing Jesus in the Gospels are paralleled by the two ways of understanding the Holy Spirit. The New Testament teaches that God is present and active in his Holy Spirit, so that all Christians may know God, love God, and be inspired to follow Jesus. Again we will follow Luke and John. Luke's Theology of the Spirit Just as Luke's Gospel presents the Spirit as the energy present and active in Jesus, so in the Acts of the Aposdes, beginning with Pentecost, Luke shows the Spirit as pres- 231 67.3 2008 Kinn ¯ Holy Spirit Spirituality ent in and empowering the early church. At the end of his Gospel, Luke relates the promise of Jesus to his apos-des: "I am sending the promise of my Father upon you; but stay in the city until you are clothed with the power from on high" (Lk 24:49). At the beginning of Acts, Jesus says: "Wait for the promise of the Father about which you have heard me speak; for., in a few days you will be bap-tized with the Holy Spirit" (Ac 1:4-5). Thus Jesus teaches that the Spirit is the power to be given to the apostles and the dynamic principle of their role as wit-nesses of "the way" of salvation through faith in him. Then Jesus summarizes the whole mission of the apostles and the work of the Spirit in them: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth" (Ac 1:8). The Spirit will inspire them to be witnesses to Jesus, starting in Jerusalem and continuing all over the world. Luke follows this paradigm throughout Acts, mention-ing the Spirit fifty-seven times. Because of that frequent reference to the Spirit, some would like to characterize this book as the Acts of the Spirit. Consider how effectively Luke describes the Spirit's work in Acts. First, the Holy Spirit empowers the dis- Just as Luke's Gospel presents the Spirit as the energy present, and active in Jesus, so in the Acts of the Apostles Luke shows the Spirit as present in and empowering the early church. 232 Review for Religious ciples to witness to Jesus: "We are witnesses of these things, as is the Holy Spirit who is given to [us]" (Ac 5:32). The Spirit inspires the early believers to speak in tongues and to prophesy: "They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in different tongues, as the Spirit enabled them to proclaim" (Ac 2:4). Then the Spirit comes upon the new believers in Jerusalem: "They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and contin-ued to speak the word of God with boldness" (Ac 4:31). Next Peter and John are sent to Samaria to lay hands on the newly baptized: "Then they laid hands on them and they received the Holy Spirit" (Ac 8:17). The Spirit also marks out the first new assistants (deacons) as those "filled with the Holy Spirit" (Ac 6:3). The Spirit directs individual missionaries: Philip (Ac 8:29-39), Peter (Ac 10:19-20), and Paul (Ac 20:22). In Paul's case the Spirit directs him again and again (Ac 20:23). Also the Gentile converts are specifically seen as inspired by the Spirit: "The Holy Spirit fell upon all who were listening to the word. [The Jews] were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit should have been poured out on the Gentiles also" (Ac 10:44-45). Later the Spirit selects Barnabas and Paul for the mission to Cyprus: "The Holy Spirit said, 'Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them'" (Ac 13:2- 4). Then, in the Council of Jerusalem, the Spirit inspires their decisions: "It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and of us." ( Ac 15:28). Finally, the Spirit continues to aid the "overseers" in tending the flock: "Keep watch over. ¯ the whole flock of which the Holy Spirit has appointed you as overseers" (Ac 20:28). Let me draw some conclusions. The constant inspi-ration and guidance of the Holy Spirit is the distinguish-ing feature of Lukan ecclesiology. Luke's pneumatology 233 67.3 2008 Kinn ¯ Holy Spirit Spirituality flows from his Spirit Christology. This pneumatology can be most effective for our Christian life and spiritu-ality. It can easily be understood by modern Catholics, because it begins with the historical person of Jesus as seen in the synoptics; what we naturally see there is an integral human being, Jesus, who is empowered by God's Spirit to accomplish our redemption. This pneu-matology can be very appealing to us because it shows the continuity between the Spirit's empowering Jesus and the Spirit of Jesus empowering us. Finally, with this Spirit theology, we can easily see a parallel in our Christian lives. God's Spirit dwells in us by grace in such a way as to empower us to live after the model of the Spirit-driven Jesus (Mk 1:12). 234 John's Theology of the Spirit Let us begin with John's Christology. The prologue of John's Gospel presents Jesus as the Word, the Logos, the Verbum. After this, chapters 1-13 present Jesus as "the truth," the "light of the world," the wisdom of God. To know him is to know the Father (Jn 8:20); to see him is to see the Father (In 14:9). John's Christology might be summarized by saying that Jesus is the revela-tion of God, the human expression of God. Then in chapters 14 to 16 John's Jesus promises the disciples a "new Advocate" (Jn 14:16). Jesus himself is their original Advocate: "We have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ (1 Jn 2:1), and now he promises the Spirit as an Advocate who will take his place and "be with [them] always" (Jn 14:16). Jesus even makes this assertion: "I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go. For, if I do.not go, the Advocate will not come to you. But if I go I will send him to you" On 16:7). The disciples will somehow be better off after he has left Review for Religious them and sent them the Holy Spirit as their permanent Advocate. We can understand Jesus' amazing assertion here by considering the five Paraclete sayings in chap-ters 14 to 16. 1. "I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth, [who] remains with you and will be in you" (Jn 14:16-17). Here Jesus sets out the entire work of the Paraclete in his followers. He says that the Paraclete will dwell with them permanently as a new presence of Jesus in all of them. The meaning of this immanence is that there is a permanent spiritual status for all who believe in Jesus, and he assigns this divine immanence to the Spirit/Paraclete. 2. "The Advocate, the holy Spirit, that the Father will send in my name--he will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you" (Jn 14:25-26). To "teach" in John is practically a verb of revelation, but the Spirit will not bring a new revelation: "He will not speak on his own, but he will speak what he hears . He will take from what is mine and declare it to you" (Jn 16:13-14). In John the teaching 0f Jesus contains all that the disciples need to know, all the revelation of God. The proper function of the Spirit of Jesus, then, is to make them understand Jesus' teaching clearly. Jesus promises that the Advocate "will remind you of all that I told you." Often, in John's Gospel, Jesus promises that later--after the resurrection--the disciples will remem- In John the teaching of Jesus contains all that the disciples need to know, all the revelation of God. 67.3 2008 Kinn ¯ Holy Spirit Spirituality ber what he told them and come to understand it (see Jn 2:22; 12:16; 13:7, 19; 14:19-20, 29; 15:20-21, 26; 16:4, 12- 13). He means that they will understand the deep mystery of redemption (through suffering and death) only after they have known his passion. These functions of the Spirit of Jesus, teaching and reminding, are also meant for us. Pope John Paul affirmed this: "The promise is not limited to the aposdes and their immediate companions . It extends to the future generations of disciples . of Christ.''7 3. "When the Advocate comes., the Spirit of truth that proceeds from the Father, he will testify about me. And you also will testify" (Jn 15:26-27). This will not be two sources of testimony, but only one; the Spirit will encourage the disciples internally to witness to Christ. When they experience opposition from the world, the Spirit of truth will work within their hearts to strengthen them in their own faith and provide them with unshakable confidence. 4. "[When the Advocate] comes, he will convict the world in regard to sin and righteousness and condemna-tion; sin, because they do not believe in me; righteous-ness, because I am going to the Father and you will no longer see me; condemnation, because the ruler of this world has been condemned" (Jn 16:8-11). In John's Gospel, there is no mention of formal public trials and judges (as are mentioned in Mt 10:17-18 and Mk 13:9). Rather Jesus' concern here seems to be for the same theological conflict that characterized his public life, namely, the great opposition between him and the world, the struggle for and against Jesus. Specifically here the Paraclete will prove to the disciples that the world is guilty of sin, the basic sin that consists in refus-ing to believe in Jesus. This sin is described often in John's Gospel (Jn 3:19; 9:41; 12:37; 15:22-24). Review for Religious The disciples will continue this contest against the unbelieving world, and the Paraclete will be their "coun-sel for the defense" to prove the world guilty of disbe-lief in God and his Word. The Spirit will also witness against the world to prove the world wrong about righ-teousness or justice, by showing that Jesus, whom it judged guilty, was really innocent and just. The final element in the Paraclete's witness against the world is condemnation, that is, proof that in condemning Jesus the world itself was judged. For, in the person of the Paraclete, Jesus is still present after his death; so, if Jesus' passion repre-sented the confrontation of Jesus and the prince of this world (Jn 12:31; 14:30), then Jesus' victory over death is also his victory over the prince of this world (see 1 Jn 4:3-4; 5:4-5). 5. "The Spirit of truth., will guide you to all truth; ¯. he will speak what he hears, and will declare to you the things that are coming" (Jn 16:12-13). The func-tions of the Paraclete here are similar to those in John 14:26, that is, to teach and to call to mind, but they are further developed here, especially by the addition of two phrases. The phrase "guide you to all truth" (or "guide you along the way of all truth," as in the Anchor Bible) seems to include more than a deeper intellectual under-standing by teaching a way of life that follows Jesus. The Johannine understanding of "way of truth" is not an abstract system of faith but a sphere of action, similar to the Hebrew Scriptures' way of life in conformity with the Mosaic law, and also similar to "the way" in the Acts of the Apostles.8 The phrase "declare to you the things that are com-ing" does not involve any new revelation, for Jesus also says the Spirit "will speak what he hears." Raymond Brown says that this "consists in interpreting in relation 237 67.3 2008 Kinn ¯ Holy Spirit Spirituality 238 to each coming generation the contemporary signifi-cance of what Jesus has said and done.''9 The Paraclete will help each generation to uncover the deep meaning of the person and mission of Jesus for their particular time and place. Parallels and Some Points John's pneumatology is quite parallel to his Christology. The Spirit of Jesus will perform many of the same functions as Jesus did for his disciples: teach them, be their advocate in trials, intercede for them with God, encourage them, lead them to all truth, and guide them into the future. The Spirit of Jesus will be both a permanent presence and an active teacher and guide. The Spirit will dwell in all Jesus' disciples. Once Jesus has departed, the Spirit of Jesus becomes the "new Advocate." Just as John presents Jesus in his public life as the God's Word, the complete revelation of God, so he presents the Spirit of truth as Jesus' mirror image present to all Christians to the end of time. Such a theology of the Spirit can assist us in our spiritual lives. We live in the age of the Spirit; we are to be guided by the Spirit of Jesus. Jesus himself intends that the Paraclete be his new persona dwelling within us. What Jesus was for his disciples, the Paraclete is meant to be for us. Jesus said, "I will not leave you orphans; I will come back to you" (Jn 14:18). More than that, the Father and the Son will dwell with us: "My Father will love [you], and we will come to [you] and make our dwelling with [you]" (Jn 14:23). This means that the Spirit of Jesus is the personal presence of God dwelling within us. The Father, Son, and Spirit are within us, but Jesus assigns this presence particularly to the Holy Spirit. This Spirit of Jesus is intimior intimo meo ("deeper Review for Religious in me than I am"), in Augustine's words.1° As Raymond Brown has observed, "the Old Testament theme of 'God with us' (the Immanuel of Is 7:14) is now to be realized in the Paraclete/Spirit who remains with the disciples forever." I 1 Notes ~ George Montague SM in the foreword to The Spirit, Giver of Life and Love by John Paul II (Boston: Pauline Books and Media 1996), p. 12. 2 Raymond Brown, "Diverse Views of the Spirit in the New Testament," Worship 57 (May 1983): 227. 3 John Paul II, Dominum et vivificantem, in L'Osservatore Romano, 9 June 1986. 4 See, for example, the bibliography in James W. Kinn, The Spirit of Jesus in Scripture and Prayer (Lanham, Maryland: Rowman and Littlefield [a Sheed & Ward Book], 2004), pp. 213-217. s See Luke 1:35, 41, 67; 2:10-11, 25-32; 3:22; 4:1, 14. 6 See John 1:33-34; 3:16-19; 4:26; 5:24; 6:29, 40, 47-48; 11:25-26; 14:6-1 I. 7John Paul II, Spirit, Giver of Life, p. 22. s Raymond Brown, The Gospel according to John, 13-21, Anchor Bible, vol. 29A (New York: Doubleday, 1966), pp. 628-629. 9 Brown, Gospel, p. 716. ~0 Garry Wills's translation, shortened. Ed. *' Brown, Gospel, p. 644. 239 67.3 2008 JUDITH METZ A Charity Spirituality for Educators 240 ~. harity spirituality" is modeled on the lives of ~ the 17th-century Saints Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac and our 19th-century American Saint Elizabeth Seton. Vincent and Louise were founders and collaborators in organized works of charity in France: the Confraternities of Charity, the Congregation of the Mission, and the Daughters of Charity; and Elizabeth Seton modeled her .founding of the American Sisters of Charity on their inspiration. The Charity charism of these three saints stresses seeing Jesus present in every-one we meet, especially the poor, and believing that Jesus lives and acts through us. Two scriptural passages that were guiding principles for them are St. Paul's "I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me" (Ga 2:20) and Jesus' "Whatever you do to the least of my brothers and sisters, you do to me" (Mt 25:40). Judith Metz SC is the archivist and historian for the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati. Her address is 5900 Delhi Road; Mount St. Joseph, Ohio 45051. Email: judith.metz@srcharitycinti.org Review for Religious Charity spirituality includes response to many types of societal needs, preference for the poor, self-sacrific-ing service, hospitality, practicality, and down-to-earth common sense. The lives of our Charity saints, though filled with activity, were motivated interiorly by their relationship with God. The community motto of the Sisters of Charity is "The Charity of Christ Urges Us" (2 Co 5:14). St. Paul's hymn of charity gives us one description of what the charity of Christ looks like: "Love is always patient and kind, it is never jealous; love is never boastful or conceited; it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offense, and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people's sins but delights in the truth; it is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes" (1 Co 13:1&4-7). The Charity approach to education asks us to love and accept with openness and sincerity all persons as they are, embracing them and empowering them, nur-turing their abilities, while at the same time challenging them to grow in every aspect of their lives. Elizabeth Seton articulated this to one of her friends when she wrote: "You know I am as a Mother encompassed by many children of different dispositions--not all equally amiable or congenial, but bound to love, instruct, and provide for the happiness of all, to give the example of cheerfulness, peace, l~esignation, and consider indi-viduals more as proceeding from the same Origin and tending to the same end than in the different shades of merit or demerit.''1 In a Charity approach to education, emphasis is placed on character development, teaching sound moral principles, integrity, faith formation, and Catholic val-ues principally through the modeling of the teacher. We work to create an environment (in our personhood 241 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ A Charity Spirituality for Educators 242 and in the place itself) that nurtures those we serve in this ministry. In addition to the charity and zeal of our motto, Charity spirituality stresses certain other virtues: remembering the presence of God in our lives, humil-ity, simplicity. My reflection is on these virtues and how they may come into play in our lives as educators. The Presence of God and the Grace of the Moment The practice of the presence of God means open-ness to the "now" because God is present in it. It means believing that there is a blessing, a grace, in focusing on the person or task at hand because that is what God is asking of us now. Elizabeth Seton wrote to a friend: "I am going to meet everybody in the grace of the moment, which we never can know till we find the humour and temper of the one we are to meet with--the many mis-takes all swallowed and comforted by intention inten-tion intention.''2 We never know what the moment is going to bring, but we trust that God will be present in it--and that God is present through us to others. An important principle of the spiritual life is "Be where you are, do what you are doing." You might say, "Isn't that a kind of truism? Aren't we always doing whatever it is that we are doing?" But, if we reflect for a moment, we admit that the answer is often no. Many times we perform our work in a distracted manner as we think about our busy schedules or look out the corner of our eye at a pile on our desk. Teachers constandy experience the time crunch of preparing lesson plans, correcting papers, attending meetings, and coordinat-ing extracurricular activities, all in addition to the time spent in the classroom. The challenge is: How do we remain centered on God and on one thing at a time as we juggle these many demands? How do we bring Review for Religious ourselves to the point where we can give ourselves to what we are doing--with full attention, watchfulness, and consciousness? Why do we find it so difficult to live in the present moment? We each probably have some personality traits that make focusing a challenge, but our culture works against us as well. Technological advances can prove overwhelming to both teachers and students. Who of us does not feel besieged at times with e-mail, voice-mail messages, text-messaging, and who knows what else? We are pulled in many directions, with people clamor-ing for instant responses. Our fast-paced soci-ety also makes our students want instant oral answers. They say, "Just tell us now. We don't have time to waste looking it up or thinking about it." How do we respond to their desire for quick answers when they need to go through the sometimes tedious process of learning? How do we help them become aware of the value and joy in doing the learning, and even in waiting patiendy as it slowly matures and ripens within us? Another deterrent to awareness or mindfulness is our production-oriented culture that urges us to always be doing something "useful." Thomas Merton once observed, "We are so obsessed with doing that we have no time and no imagination left for being.''3 Only through slowing down and being more reflective can we hope to live in the now attentively. Perhaps a step The practice of the presence of God means openness to the "now" because God is present in it. 243 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ A Charity Spirituality for Educators 2441 or two outside for a deep breath of flesh air, stopping to take a series of deep breaths, or finding a quiet cor-ner during a break would help us calm our spirits and refocus our efforts. Elizabeth Seton told her sisters: "Keep well to what you believe to be the grace of the moment. You will often be at a stand for what is best in a situation so new, but only do your best as you have always done, and leave the rest for our dear God.''4 I invite you to reflect for a moment on how a quietly graced focus on the present moment might make a difference in your relationships with your students, with your colleagues, with administrators, parents, and all whom you meet. Humility Humility entails the recognition that all we have comes from our loving God, and so one of the basic stances of a humble person is gratitude. St. Vincent taught: "Be wary about crediting anything to your-self. In claiming this, you in effect steal from God and do God injury. God alone is the author of every good thing.''s Humble persons acknowledge the gifts they have received. Reflect for a moment on your own gifts: intelligence, creativity, insight, generosity--things people have pointed out to you or you recognize within yourself. As we reflect, we realize that all of these quali-fies are things we in one way or another have received and have a responsibility to cultivate. We also realize that others have different gifts. St. Paul tells us: "There is a variety of gifts, but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of services to be done, but always the same Lord; working in all sorts of different ways in differ-ent people, it is the same God who is working in all of them. The particular way in which the Spirit is given to Review for Religious each person is for a good purpose" (1 Co 12:4-7). How do I value my gifts, the gifts of others? Recognizing that all is gift, humble people are open to the multiplicity of gifts around them--open to all the richness and diversity in the world. We can be infinitely enriched if we maintain an openness of spirit. Teaching demands humility. It is about being receptive even when it is difficult. Elizabeth Seton told her early sisters, "The [person] who is truly humble, accepts willingly, without resentment, all that [he or she] receives, though these be corrections, reprimands, slights, or anything else that may disturb her peace or hurt her feelings . This [humble] person is not demanding, domineering, dictatorial, but goes about with that quiet power which finds its source in selflessness.''6 From another perspective, at a commencement address an educator-friend of mine recently noted: Teaching is mostly about listening [which is another way of receiving]. Listen to the rhythms of life puls-ing through your bodies and in the environment all around you, both natural and cultural. Listen to the music of the spheres, as the ancients described in the rhythms of the cosmos. Most important, listen to each other, your friends and neighbors, of course, but your adversaries too. Because if you do I know that you will find they share the same aspirations as you, even though the path they choose to attain them is different from yo~ars.7 What are some manifestations of this virtue as applied to the ministry of education? One characteristic of Charity education has always been a holistic/integra-tire approach to learning, an emphasis on seeing and appreciating interrelationships, seeing the larger picture. Educators have always faced the challenge of preparing students to function successfully in their society--not 245 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ .4 Charity Spirituality for Educators just in a narrow sense but as fully developed, mature persons. Back in the early 1800s, Elizabeth Seton told her students, "I do not come to teach you how to be good nuns or Sisters of Charity; but rather I would wish to fit you for the world in which you are destined to live."8 How do we go about guiding students to become fully developed, mature persons--fitting them for the world in which they are destined to live? First, we assist them in their moral and social development. Some say today that years ago schools were "nothing but finish-ing schools." But perhaps today we have gone to the other extreme by attending only to academics and ignoring other aspects of our students' development. Today we hear stories about the problems employers have with issues like integrity and responsibility among their workers, and social development as well--leading businesses to offer sessions on matters like deportment, proper manners, and appropriate codes of conduct. Charity education stresses not only academic sub-jects but social skills and values such as respect and equality, such as shunning the prejudices of the day not because it is "politically correct" but because it is moral. Charity education stresses forming compassionate rela-tionships and assuming responsibility toward the larger community, rather than placing self at the center of the universe. It includes education in social-justice issues, with a special concern for the most needy, achieved not only through instruction but through experience. The early sisters always made it a priority to visit the sick and poor in their area, frequendy taking students with them, thereby modeling the Charity spirit of service. Charity education approaches the spiritual, cultural, and academic as a unified whole. It teaches self-disci- R~vie~v.for Religious pline, how to make good choices, and the need of look-ing beyond ourselves. It offers principles for making moral choices, for instance, in the use of new technolo-gies or in responding to the issues of the day. A second way that humility can be expressed in an educational environment is in adaptability or flexibil-ity. Adaptation to the needs of the times has been a hallmark of the American Sisters of Charity ever since they adopted their first Rule, which stated that "modi-fications [would be made to the French Daughters of Charity Rule] as. the difference of country, habit, and culture required." When Elizabeth Seton began, she had every inten-tion of focusing her efforts on the education of poor children. Soon she was involved in a boarding academy and caring for orphans as well. From these beginnings Charity schools pioneered in the education of women. They included all types of schools--elementary, board-ing academies, Latin schools, special education, nursing schools. They offered broad curriculums, meeting and often exceeding contemporary standards. Music and the fine arts always flourished alongside standard academic subjects. Meeting these demands of continual change and constant readjustment can be difficult and challenging. It requires a degree of humility to go back and reassess, to change your approach and redo your lesson plans. When I was taking education classes in college, one of our education professors often commented: "Some teachers have twenty years of experience, and some have the same experience twenty times." At the time I did not fully understand her meaning, but it did not take me long after I began teaching to realize exacdy what she meant. 247 67.3 2008 h/letz ¯ A Charity Spi~tualfty for Educators Educational flexibility includes the willingness to take risks without being defensive if your idea or project does not work. It requires making choices in the best interest of the students even when they resist and are critical-- even though it is so much easier to be popular. Vincent de Paul was so convinced of the importance of simplicity that he called it "my gospel," 248 Simplicity Vincent de Paul was so convinced of the impor-tance of simplicity that he called it "my gospel" and "the virtue I love most." "Do you know where our Lord dwells?" he asked; "it is among the simple.''9 There are many contemporary ways of describing simplicity: authentic-ity, integrity, genu-ineness, passion for the truth, sincerity, purity of intention, wholeheartedness. These words con-tain the essence of what Vincent was talking about. They include an openness to the rich-ness and diversity of worldviews, cultures, people, and ideas--a searching for the larger picture, a willingness to communicate, to always be in a stance of readiness to embrace more. Looking at several aspects of this virtue, we see how it can be part of our everyday approach to our educa-tional ministry. First is seeking the truth with sincer-ity and speaking the truth with courage. Jesus told us, "Let your 'yes' mean 'yes' and your 'no' mean 'no'" (Mt 5:37). St. Vincent often spoke of the importance of our actions matching our words, of the necessity of always Review for Religious being authentic: "Our heart must not think one thing while our mouth says another.''~° People spontaneously admire and trust those who live out what they believe and say. Trust is essential to our relationships, to true communication, which is what education is all about. Our challenge is to not get caught up in the conven-tions of our society, that is, for instance, to be "clever," to gain a laugh at another's expense; to act one way around some people and another way around others; to have hidden motives for saying and doing things, such as to ingratiate ourselves or be noticed, to gain some advantage for ourselves or be regarded as acceptable. Instead, we are called to authenticity, accepting the con-sequences whatever they may be. Elizabeth Seton advised her daughter: "Oh do try to be quite independent in virtue. Take its true dignity, and never let impious custom, or the shame of being laughed at, or even the contempt of unreasonable minds, tempt you to treat anyone with the least slight.''11 For our part, how often do we act in inauthentic ways with those in authority, with our peers, with our students? How can we hope to influence students to be models of honesty and integrity if we are not? I invite you to reflect on how seeking the truth with sincerity and speaking the truth with courage are opera-tive in your educational ministry. Are there times when you hide or gloss over the truth, when you are threat-ened by another's approach, closed to his or her point of view? Do you cloak the truth with ambiguity or have hidden agendas? Do you change your story according to whom you are speaking with--administrators, col-leagues, students, parents? How do you model and teach straightforwardness, integrity? One of the beatitudes is "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God" 249 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ A Charity Spirituality for Educators (Mt 5:8). This is sometimes rendered, "Blessed are the utterly sincere." For St. Vincent, purity of heart or purity of inten-tion meant seeking God in all things, and willing what God wills. It means making God the center of our lives, being wholehearted, orienting our lives so that our sen-timents, our thoughts, our words, and our actions are working together. It means being without guile, with-out cynicism, living with a vision that leads and inspires others. How might this look in an educational setting? One way might be an undaunted quest for excellence despite obstacles--the indifference of students, frustra-tion at lack of resources, disparagement of our enthu-siasm for projects or even for learning itself. Elizabeth Seton spoke of her pleasure in study, her interest in the "works of imagination" and the "wonderful production of science." She was avid about learning, and instilled in her pupils a love of it. She never tired of teaching and always found new joy in engaging with her students. Are there times when I am tempted to act or speak with less than true simplicity? Have I ever curtailed my enthusiasm for fear of others' response? "Remember," Elizabeth Seton told her teachers, "the whole of our spirit is to be Humble and Simple.''12 When on~ of our sisters died recently, one of her former students wrote: "Sister taught me in 1931 and 1932. She had an enthusiastic interest in the subjects she taught, in my case trigonometry and chemistry, and I believe that interest eventually led me to obtain an engi-neering degree in 1939 from Ohio State University." How do we ever know the impact on our students of our enthusiasm and quest for excellence in the class- ¯ room? Review for Religious As early as 1810, Elizabeth Seton felt the need for teachers at her school to be better prepared. She established standards of excellence, insisted the sisters have time to study, and arranged that the more expe-rienced teachers mentor the newer ones. To improve instruction she established a normal school and hired additional help so that the sisters had time to study.13 Throughout the history of the Sisters of Charity, these practices have prevailed. In the late 19th century, for instance, the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati appointed a congregational board of education and a superinten-dent of schools. They developed curriculums, organized summer school for the sisters, and required them to pass exams before they were allowed in the classroom. Mentors checked lesson plans of beginning teachers and offered suggestions about teaching methods and class-room management. The Charity approach to education, as to any minis-try, means being wholehearted in what we do, doing our best and striving for improvement. Whatever our success or failure, as long as we can say we did our best, we will have acted with authenticity and integrity, that is, with simplicity. In an expression of her simple trust, Elizabeth Seton told a friend, "If I succeed I bless God, if I do not succeed I bless God, for then it will be right that I do not succeed.''14 Charity Vincent de Paul and Elizabeth Seton were people of action. They were unable to speak of loving God wholeheartedly without immediately including relation-ships with and service to others. In one of her jour-nals, Elizabeth Seton noted: "The charity of our blessed Lord in the course of his ministry had three distinct 67.3 2008 IYletz ¯ .4 Charity Spirituality for Educators qualities which should be the model for our conduct. It was gentle, benevolent, and universal.''15 The impor-tance of these qualities in educational ministry is clear. Among the hallmarks of Christ;s gendeness, Elizabeth lists patience, vulnerability, accepting everyone equally, bearing with others' weaknesses, and quietly giving ser-vice. How many times a day do we feel called upon to practice patience or to bear with others' weaknesses? As educators standing in front of a classroom, we are cer-tainly vulnerable. Louise de Marillac said: "True charity loves and forbears in all things, even contradictions and repugnance.''16 Can we find in ourselves the resources to imitate Christ's gentleness when we are contradicted or shown disrespect? The second quality of Christ's ministry that Elizabeth Seton identifies is benevolence, the gratu-itous gift of self over the long haul, freely given with-out expecting any return. St. Vincent said: "Love finds a way: it is inventive even to infinity.''~7 Love is dedi-cated and steadfast under any circumstances; it is open to everyone in warmhearted hospitality. It requires hard and sometimes unpleasant work; it requires rising above our own likes and dislikes in order to give our attention and concern to others, valuing each person we encounter as a precious gift deserving our gift in return. It requires moving outside of ourselves for the sake of others. Elizabeth highlights universality as the third char-acteristic of Christ's ministry. Charity spirituality has a special concern for the poor. How can we reach out and care for those whom society has left behind or left out-side? Vincent de Paul says: "Love God, make no excep-tion of persons, be indifferent to all places.''~8 We are called upon to do this every day in our ministry--with Re'view for Religious the student who cannot get it, the student who does not care, the student who does not respect us. Elizabeth Seton welcomed pupils from diverse back-grounds against the wishes of her advisors. She accepted Protestant students and provided catechetical instruc-tion for the black children of the area. She said: "All apply to the Sisters of Charity who are night and day devoted to the sick and ignorant.''~9 How universal is our attitude toward all with whom we come in contact? How open are we to caring about and caring for all of creation? In commenting on the ministry of the Sisters of Charity, someone recently remarked on the qualities she noted: "They were never afraid to address the need and often the impossible; worked untiringly and with such zeal--quiet and unrecognized--to make life better for others. They embraced all the challenges lovingly and with such commitment--and selflessly served others." Her words remind me of St. Paul's admonition: "You should be clothed in sincere compassion, in kindness and humility, gentleness and patience. Over all these clothes, to keep them together and complete, put on love" (Col 3:12&14). "Humility, simplicity, charity, and remember God is ever present." Each one of us probably takes notice of a different aspect of this statement, and may be struck differently another time. I return to St. Paul's words: "Love is always patient and kind, it is never jealous; love is never boastful or conceited; it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offense, and it is not resentful." These words challenge us in every area that we have reflected upon. Along with love's priority, we strive for simplicity, expressed in kindness and patience, and for humility to overcome jealousy and conceit. Reflecting on these vir- 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ .4 Charity Spirituality for Educators rues and living them is a lifelong pursuit. May we make progress in doing so a little bit more each day. Notes 1 Regina Bechde SC and Judith Metz SC, eds., Elizabeth Barley Seton: Collected Writings, 3 vols. (New York: New City Press, 2000, 2002, 2006), 2:154. z Seton: Collected Writings, 2:402. 3 William Shannon, Silence on Fire: Prayer of Awareness (New York: Crossroad, 1991), p. 73. 4 Seton: Collected Writings, 2:702. s Pierre Coste, ed., Correspondance, entretiens, documents (Paris: Gabalda, 1920-1925), vii, 289. 6 1809 Instructions, leaflet. 7 Jeremy Curtoys, Commencement Address, Tarleton State University, 16 December 2006. s Charles I. White, Life of Mrs. Eliza A. Seton (New York: Dunigan, 1853), p. 362. 9 Coste, IX, 606, and I, 284. 10 Coste, IX, 81. 1, Seton: Collected Writings, 3a:490. 12 Seton: Collected Writings, 3a:252. 13 First Council Book, 20 July 1818,.Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph (Emmitsburg, Maryland: St. Joseph Provincial House Archives). 14 Seton: Collected Writings, 1:362. is Seton: Collected Writings, 3 a: 193. 16 Louise Sullivan DC, ed., Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac (New York: New City Press, 1991). ,7 Coste, IX, 146. 18 Coste, Ix, 146. 19 Seton: C~llected Writings, 2:127. Review for Religious JOSEPH F. SCHMIDT St. Th r se's Contribution to the Catechism The Catechism of the Catholic Church was first published in the United States in 1994. It is the authoritative text for the catecheti-cal renewal called for by the Second Vatican Council. Surprisingly perhaps, St. Th4r~se of Lisieux (1873 - 1897), popularly known, as the Little Flower, is quoted six times in the text, more often than any other woman and more often than many theological and spiritual giants, including St. Teresa of Avila (quoted five times), St. John of the Cross and Cardinal Newman (quoted four times each); Saints Jerome, Benedict, Francis of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, and Ignatius Loyola (three times); Saints Bernard and Bonaventure (twice); being mentored Joseph E Schmidt FSC has written for this journal as far back as 1988. The author of three books, he is a staff mem-ber of the Sangre de Cristo Center (for international sab-baticals); 410 State Road 592; Santa Fe, New Mexico 87506. joeschmid t@newmexico.com 67.2 2008 Schmidt * St. Thdr~se's Contribution to the Catechism Saints John Cassian, Dominic, Alphonsus, and Francis de Sales (once). She is probably also the youngest per-son cited. Th~r~se's published works, from which the quo-tations in the Catechism are cited, are not extensive, although they exceed those of John of the Cross. Her writings, mostly letters, poems, and autobiographi-cal material, are not organized into any scholarly or thematic theological presentation, yet her teachings, including the cited quotations, are profound in their insights and accessible in their simplicity, and they offer a new and challenging look at the truth of the gospel. As Pope John Paul II said when he made her a doctor of the church in 1997, "One can say with conviction about Thdr~se of Lisieux that the Spirit of God allowed her heart to reveal directly to the people of our time the fundamental mystery, the reality of the gospel." "Her 'little way,' the pope continued, "is nothing other than the gospel way of holiness for all." In the Catechism, as is her "little way," Th~r~se has made a contribution to the church's understanding of the renewal envisioned by the council. Her citations in the Catechism pertain to the church's teaching on the contribution of human effort to our merit and sanctification (none), on the role of love in our sanctification (e~erything), on the power of the saints as intercessors in our sanctification (a lot), on the confidence that the faithful can have of dying into eternal life (complete), on the place that the four Gospels hold in the church (unique), and on her explanation of prayer in the Christian life (remarkable). Each citation is significant; we will consider in detail only Th~r~se's contribution on prayer. Review for Religdous Merit and Love In the article "Grace and Justification," which deals with the doctrine of merit in the Christian life, the Catechism quotes from Thgr~se's prayer, her "Act of Oblation to Merciful Love." Flowing from her spiritual maturity at the age of twenty-two, just two years before she died, this prayer expresses her understanding of the role of her weak human response to grace as well as God's gracious mercy in her sanctification and salvation. It has been called an expression, in prayer form, of her "little way." Understanding grace not as a God-given commod-ity, but as God's loving presence at the core of her I~eing, Thgr~se, in the time before her death, had come to the point of abandoning herself completely into the hands of God, her loving parent, aware of her weakness and placing no emphasis whatsoever on her own merits. She would, as she said, appear before God "with empty hands." This is the part of Thgr~se's "Act of Oblation to Merciful Love" quoted in the Catechism: After earth's exile, I hope to go and enjoy you in the fatherland, but I do not want to lay up merits for heaven. I want to work for your love alone . In the evening of this life, I shall appear before you with empty hands, for I do not ask you, Lord, to count my works. All our iustice is blemished in your eyes. I wish, then, to be clothed in your own justice and to receive from your love the eternal possession of yourself! (Catechism of the Catholic Church [CCC], §2011; see Story of a Soul [SS], trans. John Clarke, p. 277) The Catechism uses these words of Thgr&se to express the church's understanding that all our merit flows from the charity of Christ, who lives and acts in us by grace. Thgr~se's prayer is the culmination of the Catechism's presentation on the doctrine of merit, 67.3 2008 Scbmidt * St. Tb~r~se's Contribution to the Catechism emphasizing that merit is sheer divine gift. All the faith-ful are invited to appropriate this truth of Th~r~se's prayer. The Catechism also quotes Thrr~se in the section "The Church Is Holy." Love is the foundation of the holiness of the Christian and the heart of Christ's mysti-cal body, the Church. Thrr~se, at the end of her life, in meditating on this truth, expressed the significance of Iove in her life and in the life of every Christian. This is cited in the Catechism: If the church was a body composed of different members, it couldn't lack the noblest of all; it must have a Heart, and a Heart BURNING WITH LOVE. And I realized that this love alone was the true motive force which enabled the other members of the church to act; if it ceased to function, the Apostles would forget to preach the gospel, the Martyrs would refuse to shed their blood. LOVE, IN FACT, IS THE VOCATION WHICH INCLUDES ALL OTHERS; IT'S A UNIVERSE OF ITS OWN, COMPRISING ALL TIME AND SPACE-- IT'S ETERNAL! (CCC §826; see SS 194) In this reflection, Th6r~se understood her own voca-tion. She could not be a martyr or an apostle--both important members of the mystical body--but she could be the heart. She would be love in the mystical body, and thereby participate in and nourish the vocations of all those members who act on behalf of the church. "My vocation is love.t she exclaimed. Thus I shall be everything" (SS 194). Th6r~se's audacity in placing herself at the heart of love in the church was not because of her perfection of virtue, but rather because, in her very weakness and imperfection, she was boldly willing to be available to satisfy Love's own desire "to lower itself., to nothing-ness and transform this nothingness into fire" (SS 195). Review for Religious Thtr~se understood that her love of God was expressed by her complete availability to receive and radiate God's love of her. This made her weakness and powerless-ness an advantage because, in being available to God in ¯ "nothingness" and "littleness," it allowed God by stoop-ing down to manifest his infinite grandeur even more. The Catechism invites all the members of the church, in their present state as sinners, to receive and radiate God's love and, even with their limitations and weak-nesses, to share in Th6r~se's vocation to be love at the heart of the church. Death and Dying In the section "The Communion of Saints: The Communion of the Church of Heaven and Earth," the Catechism again cites some of Th~r~se's final words, encouraging all Christians to be assured that the saints intercede for the whole church. The Catechism men-tions Th~r~se's promise as she lay dying: "I want to spend my heaven in doing good on earth" (CCC $956; see Her Last Conversations, trans. John Clarke, p. 102). Over the years since her death in 1897, innumerable testimonies regarding Th~r~se's intercessory power con-firm that she continues to fulfill that promise. And the church assures us that this intercessory power is avail-able through all of the saints. The Catechism quotes some of Th~r~se's dying words in the section on the meaning of Christian death, suggesting that these words can truly be on the lips of every dying Christian. "I am not dying; I am entering life," she said (CCC §1011; see General Correspondence, trans. John Clarke, vol. 2, p. 128). She expressed a profound gospel truth with simplicity, but not without much personal struggle. 67.3 2008 Schmidt ¯ St. Thgrbse's Contribution to the Catechism 260 During her final days, Thgr&se endured excruci-ating physical pain and emotional anguish. Suffering the ravages of tuberculosis that had grown worse over eighteen months, she was also plagued by dark feelings that heaven did not exist, that only nothingness awaited her, that her immense desires to do good on earth after her death would never be realized, and that her life had been wasted. She also felt frightening temptations to suicide. Compounding all these dreadful feelings was her experience of being isolated from the nuns who attended her on her deathbed. She was fearful that, if she shared her distressing thoughts and feelings with them, she might blaspheme and cause scandal. Th~r~se's struggle in faith and her final understanding of her immanent death as "entering life" can become a source of encouragement and hope for anyone nearing death, especially for those who face their last days in pain, confusion, and darkness. Gospel and Prayer Thtr~se is also quoted in the Catechism in the section "The Canon of Scripture." She never had access to a com-plete Bible, but she made the sacred Scriptures that she did have, particularly the Gospels, a fundamental source for her prayer. Her words treasuring the Gospels are cited in the Catechism: "But above all, it's the Gospels that occupy my mind when I'm at prayer; my poor soul has so many needs, and yet this is the one thing needful. I'm always finding fresh lights there, hidden and enthralling mean-ings" (CCC §127; see SS 179). The Catechism invites all Christians, in imitation of Th~r~se, to find a source of prayer in the Scriptures, especially the Gospels. Th~r~se's contribution to Part Four of the Catechism, "Christian Prayer," is probably her most important. Review for Religious Until the publication of the Catechism, the definition of prayer that influenced most of the catechetical teaching in the church through the centuries is that of St. John Damascene. His definition, formulated at the beginning of the 8th century, was ordinarily presented in earlier catechisms in this simplified form: "Prayer is the lifting up or raising up of the mind and heart to God." St. John Damascene's full definition is retained in the Catechism, but is now placed after Th6rbse's expres-sion of prayer. The Catechism asks, What Is Prayer? Th6r~se's description of prayer is given as the answer: "For me, prayer is a surge of the heart; it is a simple look turned toward heaven, it is a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy" (CCC §2558; see SS 242). Th6r~se's description of prayer is remarkable in at least six specific ways. In the first place, it shows her personal and invitational way of expressing her teaching. She does not define prayer didactically, but says what prayer is "for me." Her understanding of prayer comes from her own experience, and she shares her insight as a personal statement that might also be of assistance to others. She says she knows "there are really more dif-ferences among souls than there are among faces" (SS 239). By retaining Th6r~se's phrase "for me" as part of its definition of prayer, the Catechism suggests that the church respects the deeply personal and unique quality of the Holy Spirit's prayer in each person. St. John Damascene's full definition is retained in the Catechism, but is now placed after Thdr~se's expression of prayer. 261 67.3 2008 Scbmidt ¯ St. Tbdrkse's Contribution to the Catechism Second, in this definition of prayer, Th~r~se incon-spicuously and successfully combines in simple language the three traditional forms of prayer: affective prayer or prayer using short aspirations or devotional formulas, contemplative prayer or prayer of centering and simple attention, and reflective prayer or meditation. Th6r~se refers to affective prayer as "a surge of the heart." She describes contemplative prayer as "a simple glance turned toward heaven," and identifies reflective prayer as "a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy." Third, by saying that prayer is "a surge of the heart," Th6rEse shifts the metaphor of prayer. From John Damascene's more humanly effortful, even stereo-typically masculine, image of "lifting up the mind and heart to God," Th~r~se has moved to the cooperative, even stereotypically feminine, attitude of allowing her heart, moved by the Holy Spirit of love, to surge with that Love in return. Fourth, while not excluding the possibility that reflective prayer would include the sacred Scriptures, a practice dear to her heart, Th~r~se does not refer to Scripture in her definition. Rather she alerts us to the fact that in her reflective, meditative prayer she has embraced her lived experience of both pain and happi-ness, "trial and joy." She uses her ordinary experience to deepen her relationship with God. Her very life is for her the place to find God, to be available to God, and the place from which to utter her cry to God. She includes in her description of prayer a faith-filled atti-tude of acceptance and a grace-filled attitude of surren-der in the trials and joys of everyday life. One's own experiences as the place from which prayer surges are, of course, the way of prayer pictured Review for Religious for us in the lives of the holy men and women of the Scriptures, of the prophets, and indeed of Mary and Jesus. It is here that one gains a deeper understanding of the mystery of divine love. This is the way ordinary Christians throughout the centuries have intuitively prayed, reflecting on their lived experiences, searching for divine providence in the unfolding of their lives. Th~r~se's description of prayer explicitly validates this intuitive way of praying as % cry of recognition and of love embracing both trial and joy" in people's ordinary daily life. Fifth, by including the idea that loving and hon-est reflection on her ordinary life experiences has been for her a form of prayer, Th~r~se shifts people's under-standing of prayer away from "saying prayers" from a prayer book to the idea that prayer is a matter of "prayerful-ness." Thdr~se herself, of course, used a prayer book for her prayer. She recited the Divine Office with her sisters in Carmel as the usual form of her community prayer. But, when she prayed privately and alone, she often dispensed with prayers from a book and simply reflected on her own experiences, searching for God's meaning and love in those experiences. She wrote: It is not necessary to read from a book some beauti-ful formula composed for the occasion. If this were the case, alas, I would have to be pitied! Outside the Thdr~se shifts people's understanding of prayer away from "saying prayers " from a prayer book to the idea that prayer is a matter of "prayerfulness." 263 67.3 2008 Scbmidt ¯ St. Tb~rkse's Contribution to the Catechism Divine Office, which I am very unworthy to recite, I do not have the courage to force myself to search out beautiful prayers in books. There are so many of them it really gives me a headache! And each prayer is more beautiful than the others. I cannot recite them all and, not knowing which to choose, I do like children who do not know how to read. I say very simply to God what I wish to say, without compos-ing beautiful sentences, and he always understands me. (SS 242) Her conversation with God extended throughout the day, about the things of the day, in mindfulness and prayerfulness. Sixth, Th6r~se has expanded the idea of prayer to embrace, as she hopedl a whole legion of little souls in her spirituality. She does this by offering a description of prayer that, while explicitly mentioning "heaven," does not explicidy mention God, Spirit, or Jesus. For her, of course, "heaven" was the eternal embrace of her loving God, Jesus was her beloved with whom she would share eternal life, and the Spirit was the surge of prayer itself. By not mentioning God, Spirit, or Jesus, how-ever, Th~r~se allows her way of prayer to be embraced by those who, without faith in God or knowledge of Jesus or the Spirit, sincerely search for meaning, love, and truth in their life. She has expanded the domain of prayer, thereby permitting an ecumenical and interreli-gious openness that allows the Catholic understanding of prayer to be included in every dialogue on prayer or religion, even with unbelievers. It extends the common ground on which spirituality can be discussed, an exten-sion much needed in our day. These six nuances in the new description of prayer contained in the Catechism of the Catholic Church contribute significantly to the understanding of prayer Review for Religious today. St. John Damascene died around 750. His defini-tion of prayer has had an influence on the teaching of the church for twelve hundred and fifty years, and still remains an important way of understanding prayer. If TMr?~se's definition has the same centuries-long influ-ence before Catholics and others need a new definition, they will be living in the fourth millennium, about the year 3250. Th~r?~se's definition of prayer is only one element of her contribution to the Catechism and only a small part of her spiritual legacy, but even that small part may be more enduring than people have yet imagined. Farmer God I am afield o on which you scatter seed. If some hungry sparrows come to feed upon some grains before they germinate, let it be - sparrows too depend upon your prodigality. But 0 my God, allow enough of me to grow and ripen in your summer love. Before the harvest mow, let warm winds blow across this sea of wheat that I may show your beauty at your feet. Irene Zimmerman OSF 265 67.3 2008 ALEXANDER T. POCETTO De Sales' Vision of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life d chief contribution of St. Francis de Sales (1567- 1622) to the church was to remind people that the call to holiness is addressed not only to religious and clerics, but to everyone. (To deny this, he said, is a heresy.)1 Vatican Council II'S document "The Church in the Modern World" has given added impetus to this basic truth. It is so widely accepted today that it seems to detract from the worth of the religious life? Is it any wonder, then, that people, especially the young, are asking themselves, "If all are called to sanctity and the council urges laypeople to seek it in and through ordinary life, why bother to become a religious?" In recent decades we have seen a marvelous devel-opment in the theology of marriage, and many have acquired a deeper understanding of the Christian mean-ing of conjugal love and fidelity, especially as a sign Alexander T. Pocetto OSFS is currently the Salesian Scholar in the Salesian Center for Faith and Culture of De Sales University; 2755 Station Avenue; Center Valley, Pennsylvania 18034. alexander. pocetto@desales.edu. Review far Religious of Christ's sacrificial love for the church. If the sacra-ment of matrimony has such dignity and nobility, why renounce it in favor of the religious life? Charitable works of many kinds are no longer per-formed almost exclusively by religious. The state and private individuals have practically taken over these activi-ties. Highly qualified, competent, and dedicated laypeople are spending their lives for the poor, the destitute, the mentally ill, the castoffs of society. As a result, many peo-ple ask themselves, "Why enter the religious life if I can perform these apostolic works as a dedicated layperson?" Moreover, some argue that laypeople, since they are actu-ally engaged in worldly affairs, are in a much better posi-tion to suffuse these activities with the love of Christ. In addition to all of this, a number of religious con-gregations, not adapting to the times, seem to have lost their raison d'etre. Nowadays few young people seem challenged and inspired by them, especially in the more industrialized countries of Europe and North America. Given these developments, can we conceive of the church without the religious or consecrated life? Is the religious life as a form of holiness the victim of an evo-lution in the church? Is it going to disappear, giving way to newer forms of holy living? In other words, has the religious life served its purpose, and is it now to be discarded like an old shoe? The church does not think so. Vatican II, however, asks us to deepen our understanding of the religious state in the life of the church. We cannot do this by examining hierarchical and juridical structures, for they do not reveal the necessity of the religious life. We must go back to the New Testament, particularly the Gospels, to understand what place Christ had in mind for reli-gious life when he founded the church. 267 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' ~on of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life The Church and Religious/Consecrated Life The first two chapters of John's Gospel are revealing in this regard. The call of the first disciples is placed immediately after the hymn in praise of the incarnation and the witness of John the Baptist. Christ first calls his disciples and then accompanies them to a wedding feast at Cana. It seems that everything takes place to tell us that, when Christ began to establish his church, he set up two states--that of Christian marriage, inaugurated at Cana, and the consecrated life, inaugurated by the call of the disciples. John mentions the time, about four in the afternoon, when two of John's disciples decided to stay with Jesus that day--perhaps implying that the Sabbath was at hand; in any case, the detail gives a spe-cial significance to their staying with him. Their answer to "Come and see" marks the first time that disciples gathered around Jesus. But, as Mark points out, disciples did not gather exclusively for the mission of preaching, but to stay close to Jesus as companions and to go out preaching at his command: "He appointed twelve, to be with him, and to be sent out to preach" (Mk 3:14). The characteristics elements of this following of Christ are these: (1) complete submission to him, (2) renouncement of material goods, (3) life in common with him, and (4) a close and intimate association with his work of redemption--his apostolic mission. In these we can see the pattern of religious life: "union with Christ through obedience, chastity, poverty, common life, and dedication to the apostolate.''3 The religious life encompasses more than the three traditional evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience, They derive their value, importance, and significance from complete, immediate, and exclusive attachment to Jesus. One might object that the three Review for Religious vows include this attachment: they take it for granted. This is true, but it is poor pedagogy to let what is pri-mary be only implicit in what is explicitly expressed. If we reduce the religious life to the three vows, we will have difficulty making it relevant to the church's life and work today. Other elements deserve equal emphasis: total dedication to Christ, community life, and dedication to the apostolate. From the very begin-nings of the church, Jesus' followers have been characterized by their preferential love of him, by their community life, and by their apostolic zeal. "The Savior wanted the conse-crated life of his disciples and of his women followers to form the cornerstone of his church, the very first stone. "4 By a careful and prayerful examination of Scripture, we will be able to see that the religious life is a natural way of living the gospel to the full. One sign of the church in its fullness, St. Francis de Sales pointed out, is the presence of religious orders and congregations. "The true church ought to shine in the perfection of the Christian life; not so that everybody in the church is bound to follow it; it is enough that it be found in some notable members and parts, in order that nothing may be written or counseled in vain and that the church may make use of all the parts of Holy Scripture.''s In the saint's view, a full and complete vision of the church can be had only when there are people in it living con- The religious life encompasses more than the three traditional evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. 269 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' I~ion of Ecdesial and Consecrated Life 27_0] secrated lives. This visibility is necessary for the believ-ability of the church, even in today's world. The tendency in the past was to stress the verti-cal aspect of Christianity, personal union with Christ-- "Jesus and I" or "me and God." This obscured somewhat the ecclesial and communal aspects of Catholic life and religious life and the community's (horizontal) role in life and in evangelization. To understand better the place of consecrated life in the church today, we have to see it in the light of covenant theology. Religious Life and Covenant Theology God's plan of salvation is expressed as a covenant between God and human beings. In describing the nature of the church, Francis de Sales comments, "It is for a good reason that the Christian people are called a church or a convocation, because the first privilege that God bestows on man to put him in the state of grace is to call him to the church."6 Our very first privilege is to be joined to the covenant community of the church. It is no wonder, then, that Francis tells us that by baptism, which inserts us into the community of the church, we become "the ark of the covenant.''7 The new covenant was not made between individu-als but between Christ and the whole group of his dis-ciples, a community destined to regroup all of humanity in unity. The details of Pentecost mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, the violent wind and the tongues of fire, recall similarities and parallels in the Sinai covenant (see Ac 2:2-3). In the Old Testament, the new covenant was foretold and described in terms of a marriage covenant. Francis de Sales emphasizes this in his explanation of the church's perpetuity. This idea is so central to this study that the pertinent passage needs to be cited at length: Review for Religious The glorious secretary of God says in this place (Rv 21:2) that the church is a new city, decked out by God as a bride for her bridegroom. Now just try to imagine . . . what kind of a bride she would be if she were fashioned according to the wish and desire of her groom. If the bridegroom were to fashion her as he wished, I believe that he would make her the most beautiful, the most virtuous, the healthiest, and the most long-lived that one could imagine. For there is no love like that of husband towards his wife . I ask you, would it be fitting for our Lord to have shed his blood to reconcile his church to God, his Father, and then to forsake this church in the end so that she is devastated? Certainly such a mediator merits an endless peace, a very close covenant, about which Isaiah says, speak-ing of Christianity: "I will make a perpetual cov-enant with them.''8 This text not only illuminates Francis's teaching on the church, but on the religious life and marriage as well. He uses the exact same expression--"a very close covenant" (une alliance estroitte)--in the chap-ter on marriage in the Introduction to the Devout Life.9 The Old Testament prophets like Hosea, Jeremiah, and Isaiah were fond of describing the new covenant in terms of conjugal union and fidelity. For them mar-riage was the inspiration for a full understanding of it. The covenant in the New Testament, however, gets its inspiration not from marriage but from the marriage of Christ to humanity, that is, from the incarnation and its consummation in Christ's death and resurrection--his Passover. St. Paul makes this clear when he writes to the Ephesians, "Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the church" (5:25). Here he envisions the church as the bride of Christ and redemption as the act of love par excellence, the model of conjugal love. 271 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' ~tsion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life 272 The church's loving response and fidelity to Christ are admirably realized in the life of consecrated virgins. Virginal consecration is the integral expression of fun-damental marks of the church--covenant community, mutual union, zeal for the apostolate. This is Francis de Sales' perspective when preaching to the Calvinists. The religious life is a sign of the presence of Christ's fullness, a sign of the church in its perfection. This suggests how necessary consecrated life is to the church. Without it the church would not be the covenant community; it would not be a full mirroring of Christ. Eeclesial Dimensions of the Religious Life In founding the Visitation congregation, Francis de Sales evidently had this truth in mind. In his preface to the Visitation constitutions, he explains that bish-ops in the early church continued what the apostles had started with regard to virgins and widows. They looked after those especially who "by a special inspira-tion were called to the state of consecrated chastity.''1° Francis notes that these were of two kinds--those who lived in community and those who lived at home. He carefully lists the testimony of Fathers of the church who witnessed to various assemblies of virgins and widows consecrated to God. If we remember that the word "assembly" is his favorite word for the church, the ecclesial relevance of his conception of the reli-gious life become more evident. In fact, he wanted the Visitation to have its official beginning on the Feast of Pentecost. He takes pains to show the apostolic ori-gins of the religious life. He says: "St. Ignatius, disciple of the apostles, wrote to the Philippians, 'I greet the assembly of virgins and the congregation of widows,' and moreover herequests that the people of Tarsus Review for Religious honor virgins 'as consecrated to God' and widows as the altar or 'sanctuary of God.'" ~1 Of course, we have to avoid a strict parallel between the state of virgins and consecrated widows with that of the religious life inasmuch as "virginity founds the order of virgins and not the religious life as such.''12 Eventually the state of virgins and widows coalesced with historical developments in religious life, yet they have separate identities: "Religious life requires and consecrates not so much virginity as chastity.''~3 As Francis sees it, the believability of celibacy is closely linked to the believability of the church. This helps us to understand the unique place of the vow of chastity in the Salesian conception of the religious life. Before the Visitation became a religious order, the only vow that was taken before the oblation was that of chas-tity: "Since the fundamental vow of this congregation is made expressly and formally of perpetual chastity and continence, it is not necessary to declare how much all the sisters are obliged to it; for in a word they must belong completely to God their Spouse.''~4 This article should be compared with an earlier one on the vows: "All those who are to receive the veil will make the simple vow [of chastity] immediately before they pres-ent themselves for the holy oblation. But, with regard to the vows of poverty .and obedience, they shall only be made upon the advice of the spiritual father and with the permission of the superior.''~5 We get a deeper insight into Francis de Sales' understanding of chastity in the church in a letter to a young lady who later became a Visitandine: "Consider how agreeable the virtue of chastity is to God and the angels because he wanted it to be eternally observed in heaven, where there will no longer be any kind of carnal 273 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' l~sion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life pleasures nor marriages. Will you not be happy to begin in this world the life you will continue eternally in the next? Praise God, then, for having given you this holy inspiration.''~6 Today, with all the talk about the sanctity, nobil-ity, and dignity of conjugal love and the sacrament of matrimony and with the consequent attacks on priestly celibacy, and indeed on all kinds of dedicated celibacy, as affecting and deforming human personality, many people are uncom-fortable with this eschatological value of chastity. The world looks upon us as freaks of bygone ages. "After all," some say, "marriage is a sacrament and celi-bacy is not." What Francis has to say about the com-plete consecration achieved by this vow will shed further light on the matter. In the letter mentioned above, he continues, "[This virtue] makes our body sacred and gives us the comfort of belonging completely to his divine Majesty--heart, body, mind, and sentiment.''~7 So Francis does not view it merely as a consecration of our bodies, but as a complete attachment to Christ involving the whole person. Marriage is the sign and image, the sacrament, of the relationship between Christ and his church. "It is to be admitted without scandal or resentment that marriage, even though a sacrament, is no more than a sacrament; it is a sign of the love of Christ and is nourished by his grace; but marriage does that under carnal conditions Marriage is the sign and image, the sacrament, of the relationship between Christ and his church. Review for Religious which Christ will abolish in his final reality and which he sanctifies only to teach us how to surpass them. ¯ This is what medieval thinkers meant when they said that marriage 'signified' the union of Christ and the church but did not 'contain' it.''~8 But this otherworldliness or eschatological character of the religious life does not militate against a genuine interest in the secular city. In fact, its genuineness can be judged only by the life of service to others that one undertakes here on this earth. Francis de Sales' teach-ing on this is clear. He sees necessary contact with the world as important for religious. In his mind, there is no essential conflict between the life of contemplation and that of the apostolate or the active life, as is clear when he states the purpose of the Visitation: "Inasmuch as this congregation has two principal exercises--the one contemplation and prayer, which is practiced mainly in the house, the other the service of the poor and the sick ¯. --it has fittingly chosen as patron Our Lady of the Visitation, because in this mystery the most glorious Virgin performed that solemn act of charity toward the neighbor of going to visit and serve St. Elizabeth in her pregnancy and composed nonetheless the canticle of the Magnificat, the sweetest, the most elevated, the most spiritual and contemplative prayer that has ever been written." 19 The authenticity of our contemplative prayer is seen in how we relate to others: "It is necessary to meditate and to contemplate only insofar as it is required to per-form our duties well, each according to our vocation. . . Do you want to know whether you have prayed well and whether you have kissed our Lord with the kiss of the mouth? See if you have a heart full of kind and charitable affections toward your neighbor, if your heart 275 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' l~wion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life 276 is disposed to help him in all his needs and to put up with him lovingly on all kinds of occasions.''2° At this point it is important to point out once and for all that Francis de Sales gave in to Cardinal Marquemont's demand to change the Visitation from a congregation with simple vows to a religious order with solemn vows because he felt that, without his sup-port and approval, the Visitation could not be estab-lished in France. Bear in mind that Marquemont was influential and a close friend of Louis XIII. Francis revealed his true reasons for this change not in his let-ter to Marquemont,2~ but in a letter to Mother Favre, the superior of the Visitation monastery in Lyons. After mentioning that Marquemont wanted to see the Visitation become a religious order, Francis says: "Now my feeling was that it would be better [to leave] it a simple congregation, where only love and fear of the Spouse would serve as a cloister, with the withdrawal that is suitable to and required by such assemblies, as we have put it in the Rules. But, since what this con-gregation can hope to receive in all of France depends upon the good reception that the Reverend Archbishop [Marquemont] will give it in his city, I consent that it be changed into a religious order.''22 The entire let-ter makes it abundantly clear that he went along with Marquemont for very practical reasons. Let us, then, bury once and for all the assertion that he did this through obedience to his metropolitan, Archbishop Marquemont. His metropolitan was the archbishop of Vienne and not Marquemont. Even though de Sales decided to give in to Marquemont, there are two things that he would not accept. First, he would not change the name from the Visitation to the Presentation, as Marquemont Review for Religious requested.23 To Marquemont he gives juridical reasons to satisfy the cardinal's legalistic mind. His real reason is that the name and the mystery of the Visitation is tied to its very nature and purpose, that is, to the nature of the religious life as he conceived it. Second, he used every trick in the book to obtain a modified cloister or enclosure so that, if the sisters could not go out into the world, the world, at least in the personae of women who were disturbed, could come and spend some time in the monastery to regain their peace of soul and mind. In this way the sisters could still serve the poor: "Inasmuch as the con-gregation must hold in high esteem char-ity and solicitude for the poor and inasmuch as there is no greater poverty than that of the soul, it will be permitted to receive in the house not only for a day, but for several days, as many as required, women who either need consolation or need to prepare themselves for a general confession or to amend their lives.''24 Along this line, it is helpful to remember that some of the sisters taught catechism in the cloister to the young ladies of Annecy. For Francis, another consequence of the eschato-logical meaning of the religious life is that it stresses the importance of the covenant community's com-munal life. In his correspondence with the Barnabite Dom Just Gu4rin, he tells him to use every resource The name and the mystery of the Visitation is tied to its very nature and purpose, that is, to the nature of the religious life as he conceived it. 277 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' l/~ion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life 278] to obtain permission for the sisters to say the Little Office of the Blessed Mother.25 He felt strongly that, if the Visitandine nuns were obliged to recite the Divine Office as all cloistered nuns were obliged to do in those days, they would not be able to accept the sick and infirm and so would lose the charismatic character of making present on earth the church in heaven: "It seems that, according to the parable [of the Wedding Banquet, Lk 14:16-21], [St. Augustine, in his Rule] makes room in the religious life not only for the hale and hearty, but also for the sick, the lame, and the blind, so that like the nuptial feast of the heavenly Spouse his home may be filled with guests."26 Francis's original purpose in establishing the Visitation is what struck the people of his day. It was an ecclesial sign representing to them the kingdom of God on earth. Vghile on his second journey to Paris, Francis discussed the Visitation with laypeople who were in the party. The observation that the nobleman Albert de Gen~ve made is extremely enlightening: "In this regard, he used to say to u~ that religious life is like the banquet of the prince in the Gospel, where no one should be refused admittance, where even the ordi-nary citizen, the blind, the cripple, is to be admitted. All these things stuck out in my mind because I had seen by experience all that he foretold [about the religious life] in the great perfection which reigned in this monastery [of the Visitation of Annecy]."27 Inasmuch as it is eschatological, religious life points to and makes present, to a certain degree, the life to be lived in heaven. It is like the wedding banquet of the Gospels. In Francis's mind, life in heaven is a com-munal one. Of the communion of saints in heaven, he says, "They give to one another [indescribable] content- Review for Religious ment and live in the consolation of a happy and indis-soluble union.''2s The eschatological, communal, and ecclesial aspects of the religious or consecrated life are, for Francis, inextricably intertwined, and that is how the saintly doctor of love expounds them. His vision can revitalize religious life today by supplanting the exaggerated individualism that threatens to diminish or destroy it. Notes ~ Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, trans, and ed. John K. Ryan (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1950), Part I, chap. 3. 2 See Jean Galot sJ, "Why Religious Life?" Review for Religious 24 (May 1965): 505-517. 3 Galot, "Why," p. 508. 4 Galot, "why," p. 509. 5 Francis de Sales, The Catholic Controversy, trans. Henry Benedict Mackey OSB (Rockford, Illinois: TAN Books and Publishers, 1989), p. 199. This posthumously published work is more aptly rifled "Meditations on the Church." See Elisabeth Stopp, "Meditations on the Church (1595-96)," in A Man to Heal Differences: Essays and Talks on St. Francis de Sales (Philadelphia: St. Joseph's Univ. Press, 1997), pp. 51-74. 6 Francois de Sales, Oeuvres de Saint Fran¢ois de Sales, ~dition Complkte (Annecy: Monast~re de la Visitation, 1892-1964), 27 vols, vol. 1, pp. 42-43. Hereafter OEA. 7 Francis de Sales, Treatise on the Love of God, trans. John K. Ryan (Stella Niagara, N.Y.: De Sales Resource Center, 2007), I, p. 209. s Sermon on the Perpetuity of the Church, OEA, 7, pp. 215-222, here pp. 215 and 217. 9 De Sales, Introduction, Part 3, chap. 38. Unfortunately, Ryan trans-lates the French word "alliance" as "alliance" instead of "covenant," which it obviously means if we understand the term as used in the ser-mon cited above. ~0 OEA, 25, p. 294. u OEA, 25, pp. 3-4. ~2 Gustave Martelet SJ, "The Church's Holiness and Religious Life" (Part 2), Review for Religious 25 (January 1966): 33. ~3 Martelet, "Church's Holiness" (Part 2), p. 33. 279 67.3 2008 Pocetto * DeSales' V'~on of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life ~40EA, 25, p. 369-370. ~5 OEA, 25, p. 245. ~60EA, 14, p. 18-19. ~7 OEA, 14, p. 19. ~s Gustave Martelet SJ, "The Church's Holiness and Religious Life" (Part 1), Review for Religious 24 (November 1965): 901. Part 3 was published in the March 1966 issue, pp. 246-268. These three articles are the late R.aymond L. Sullivant SJ's translation from Martelet's book Saintetd de l'Eglise et Vie Religieuse (Toulouse: ~ditions Pri~re et Vie, 1964). ~90EA, 25, p. 214. 20 OEA, 9, pp. 466-467. 2~ See OEA, 25, pp. 333-342. 2z OEA, 17, p. 139. 23 See OEA, 25, p. 340. 24 OF~, 25, p. 220. 25 See OEA, 18, pp. 140, 186, 195. 26 OEA, 25, p. 53. 27 Deposition of Albert de Gen~ve, Archives of the Annecy Visitation Monastery, fol. 763. 28 De Sales, Introduction, Part 1, chap. 16. 280] Rose Window A greatflower glows in the stone welcoming light with every petal, turning in circles of blue, yellow, rose, transplanted here from some celestial meadow to bloom in the house of God. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL Christian Prayer's Trinitarian Shape Prayer as a human activity is making ourselves present to the presence of God within us, so that we can recognize God's presence in everyone and everything around us. To pray we must make the human effort to respond to God's constant coming to us. We are taught in the New Testament that we should always pray in the name of Jesus, remembering always that the Holy Spirit comes to help us to go to the Father. We are called to go through Jesus to the Father, as the Holy Spirit moves us to pray. The Holy Spirit dwells in our own spirit, and our own spirits are illuminated by the Holy Spirit--through the Holy Spirit's activity in our spirit. If we feel moved to it, a good way to pray is consciously to focus our prayer: it always is meant to take us to our creator, the Father, who praying 281 John Carroll Futrell SJ has written for this journal for fifty years. His address is 3601 Lindell Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63108. 67.3 2008 Futrell ¯ Christian Prayer's Trinitarian Shape 282 seeks to draw us through Jesus' loving heart. At Jesus' baptism, "while he was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit came down upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my own dear Son. I am pleased with you'" (Lk 3:21-22). After facing Satan's temptations, Jesus "returned to Galilee, and the power of the Holy Spirit was with him" (Lk 4:14). Just before choosing the Twelve Aposdes, Jesus "went up a hill to pray and spent the whole night there praying to God" (Lk 5:12). Through a parable, once again Jesus teaches us to "ask, and you will receive, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you." Jesus insists that "the Father in heaven [will] give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him" (Lk 5:9 and 13). In a few passages of the Gospels, Jesus actually teaches us about the trinitarian shape of all Christian prayer. He promises that "when the Spirit comes, who reveals the truth about God, he will lead you into all truth. He will not speak on his own authority, but he will speak of what he hears and will tell you of things to come. He will give me glory, because he will take what I say and tell it to you. All that my Father has is mine; that is why I said that the Spirit will take what I give him and tell it to you" (Jn 16:13-15). Again Jesus said to the Aposdes, "The Father will give you whatever you ask of him in my name. Until now you have not asked for anything in my name; ask and you will receive, so that your happiness may be complete." In a passage of John's Gospel, Jesus powerfully reveals his relationship to the Father in the Holy Trinity when he says: "Father, the hour has come. Give glory to your Son, so that the Son may give glory to you. For you gave him author-ity over all humanity, so that he might give eternal life Review for Religious to all those you gave him. And eternal life means to know you, the only true God, and to know Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. I have shown your glory on earth. I have finished the work you gave me to do. Father, give me glory in your presence now, the same glory I had with you before the world was made" On 17:1-5). "I pray for them. I do not pray for the world, but for those you gave me out of the world. They belonged to you and you gave them to me" (Jn 17:9). Building upon the gospel revelation, St. Paul con-tinues to teach us the trinitarian shape of all Christian prayer. In Romans 8:9-11 he says: "You do not live as your human nature tells you to; instead, you live as the Spirit tells you to--if, in fact, God's Spirit lives in you. Whoever does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But, if Christ lives in you, the Spirit is life for you, because you have been put right with God, even though your bodies are going to die because of sin." In another passage from Romans, Paul tells us: "Those who are led by God's Spirit are God's sons. For the Spirit that God has given you does not make you slaves and cause you to be afraid; instead the Spirit makes you God's children, and by the Spirit's power we cry out to God, 'Father, my Father!' God's Spirit joins himself to our spirits to declare that we are God's children" (Rm 8:14- 16). Paul rejoices that "neither the world above nor the world below--there is nothing in all creation that will ever be able to separate us from the love of God which is ours through Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rm 8:39). To the Ephesians, Paul insists that we should present everything to God in prayer, "asking for God's help. Pray on every occasion as the Spirit leads" (Ep 6:16-18). Paul exhorts the Philippians "not to worry about anything, but in all your prayers ask God for what 283 67.3 2008 Futrell ¯ Christian Pr.ayer's Trinitarian Shape In the four Gospels,, Jesus teaches us to pray chiefly by modeling prayer rather than by giving lessons. you need, always asking him with a thankful heart" (Ph 14:6). In the four Gospels, Jesus teaches us to pray chiefly by modeling prayer rather than by giving lessons. When asked specifically to teach people to pray, Jesus gives them the Our Father (Mt 6:9-13, Mk 11:25-26, Lk 11:22-24). Luke says, "Jesus told his disciples a parable [the widow and the judge] to teach them that they should always pray and never become discouraged" (Lk 18:1). Through his own example, Jesus shows us impor-tant times to pray. When performing the great miracle of the multiplica-tion of loaves and fishes, Jesus "looked up to heaven and gave thanks to God" (Mt 14:18-19, Mk 6:41, Lk 9:15-17). During his great suffering in the Agony in the Garden, Jesus prayed that God would take away this chalice of pain, but "not my will but yours be done" (Mt 6:36-46, Mk 14:32-40, Lk 22:39-46). Jesus promises that "God will judge in their favor his own people who will cry out to him day and night for help" (Lk 18:9). And Jesus practiced what he preached. He "went to lonely places to pray" (Lk 5:16). He "prayed all night" (Lk 5:12). At the Last Supper when instituting the Eucharist, Jesus "gave thanks to God" (Mr 26:28-30, Mk 14:22-26, Lk 22:14-23). At the Transfiguration, when Jesus shows Peter, James, and John his glory, we are shown the place of Jesus in the Trinity when the Father's voice is heard 284} Review for Religious from heaven saying: "This is my Son whom I have cho-sen. Listen to him" (Lk 9:29-36). Throughout Christian revelation, the three Persons of the Holy Trinity are shown to be one God; this deter-mines the shape of all Christian prayer to God. Through the Gospels we are shown that Christian prayer must be offered through Jesus Christ to the Father and that the very possibility of prayer depends upon openness to the Holy Spirit, who illuminates our spirits and moves us to pray. This is why all Christian prayer has a trinitarian shape, whether the ones praying are conscious of this or not. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion 1. To Whom do I pray when I address prayer to God? 2. How does Scripture affect my way of praying? 3. "The Eucharist models our Christian way of praying." Has this statement been true in my own way of praying? 4. What would I say is distinct about our Christian way of praying from other religious traditions? 285 67.3 2008 PHILIP SHANO Midnight Prayer in the Ignatian Exercises p ercy Bysshe Shelley wrote of "profoundest mid-ight." He sums upwhat many other writers have described--a midnight hour that speaks to us more deeply, more intimately, than the daytime hours. Such an hour can nourish those hungering for God. Thus, "midnight prayer" is a significant part of the dis-cipline St. Ignatius Loyola calls for in the Twentieth Annotation experience of his Spiritual Exercises, when people withdraw for a month from their normal activi-ties and personal relationships. Ignatius says in a note immediately before the additional directions, "The First Exercise will be made at midnight" (SpEx §72). He refers again to the midnight prayer a few other times in the Exercises. He does not spell out why this exercise is so significant. Philip Shano SJ, a Canadian Jesuit who spent twelve years in retreat work at Loyola House in Guelph, Ontario, is novice director and superior at the Jesuit Novitiate; 1035 Summit Avenue; Saint Paul, Minnesota 55105. Review for Religious Many a contemporary director either refuses to recommend this practice to retreatants or is so blas~ in mentioning it that retreatants do not see its value. These directors see it as a pass~ practice, out of place in the contemporary world. Or, worse, they see it as one of Ignatius's recommended penitential practices. It is nei-ther pass~ nor penitential. These directors are depriving retreatants of one of the many helpful practices recom-mended by Ignatius. Along with elements in the Annotations and Additions, Ignatius's point in suggesting midnight prayer is about making the retreatants' environment conducive to the serious and life-changing graces he wants them to receive during the thirty days. The early directories of the Exercises consider midnight prayer important in the daily pattern of the retreat. In a parenthetical com-ment, the official directory of 1599 states the reason for midnight prayer--"a time most helpful for meditation because of its quiet and deep silence." It says, "Those who wish to make the Exercises in full form and who have the strength for it will generally spend five hours each day in meditation: the 1st about midnight (a time most helpful for meditation because of its quiet and deep silence), the 2nd at daybreak, the 3rd a little before dinner, the 4th in the afternoon, and the 5th in the late afternoon.''1 Mealtimes vary from culture to culture, but the point about the quiet and silence of midnight cuts across cultures. Even those who stay up late and would never describe themselves as prayerful know the power of midnight's "quiet and deep silence." It is probably one of the most common times for creative writing. There is something about prayer and reflection in the late night or early morning that fosters the power of the imagination. As Ignatius said, directors should take 287 67.3 2008 Shano ¯ Midnight Prayer in the Ignatian Exercises account of the retreatants' differences of personality and energy. Most of those who make the full Exercises are being called to the life of discipline recommended by Ignatius. Directors, however, can work with them to determine if their sleep needs suggest that they should forgo the interruption that midnight prayer entails. Regrettably, many directors assume that their retreatants will find midnight prayer difficult and so they do not recommend it. One of the most common and misguided assump-tions about midnight prayer during the thirty-day retreat is that the practice is peni-tential. Directors should notice that, if ~ Ignatius connected midnight prayer with penance, he probably would have said something about it in his section on penance (SpEx §§82- 87). He does speak of the importance of sleep (§84), but he says nothing about the times of prayer as a form of penance. The practice of midnight prayer has been dropped by many contemporary directors of the Spiritual Exercises. The assumption that midnight prayer is penitential is not just incorrect; it fosters the contemporary watering-down of the Exercises. It misses one of Ignatius's main aims in his intense experience of the disciplined spiritual life, namely, the constant need to dispose retreatants to receive the graces sought. The Additions and other points in the Exercises stress the There, is something about prayer and reflection' in the late night or,, early morning that fosters ~he power of the imagination. 2,88 Review for Religious importance of the surrounding environment--the place where one has a room, the view from the window, and so on. The hours of prayer, too, can add to the helpful disposition of the retreatants. Many directors who recommend the midnight meditation speak to their retreatants about asking their guardian angel to wake them up about three hours after they fall asleep. Ideally, one does not use an alarm clock or other artificial means of rousing oneself. The idea is that, if it is to be a time when one is disposed for prayer, one will wake up. In the twenty years I have been directing the Spiritual Exercises, my experience has been that very few retreatants find it an unhelpful time to pray. Many may balk at the idea at first, but after trying it most do not dispute its value. Many are motivated by Ignatius's invita-tion to discipline. After the retreat is finished, they may even have a strong urge to continue late-night prayer. In our day a certain political correctness may induce directors to take "the clients' side" to avoid any accusa-tion of too much discipline and mortification. These, however, have a valid place in the spiritual life; it is how people grow. Still, there often is an aversion to dis-ciplines that might be uncomfortable. Directors avoid asking people to spend much time praying about sin, about hell, or about Jesus' passion and death. Midnight prayer has an obvious discomfort, disrupting ordinary sleep patterns. That does not mean that it is a bad thing. Like other things, it requires discernment. Note ' Number [34] (chap. 3, no. 7) of"The Official Directory of 1599" in On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of 1~99, trans, and ed. Martin E. Palmer SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), pp. 297-298. 289 67.3 2008 BERNARD J. LEE The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience revisiting religious life 2901 There are three parts to these reflections on the social matrix of obedience in religious life. The first addresses the functions of power in any social group, emphasizes mutuality in deci-sion making, and finds a helpful resource in Bernard M. Loomer's "Two Kinds of Power." The second part addresses the condition of those who feel "outside" of power, looks at how they come "inside," and finds helpful resources in Elizabeth Janeway's book Powers of the Weak. The third part addresses the dynamic in a Judeo-Christian group seeking to promote the reign of God in specit~c communal experi-ences; it finds resources in Gaudium et spes and in Paul Hanson's The People Called: The Growth of Community in the Bible. These reflections are Bernard J. Lee SM is professor of theology and vice pres-ident for mission and identity in St. Mary's University; One Camino Santa Maria; San Antonio, Texas 78228. Review for Religious an elaboration of a short discussion of obedience in my book The Beating of Great Wings: A Worldly Spirituality for Active Apostolic Communities. 1 Before addressing those three areas, I want to name two theological presuppositions that underlie what follows. The first is that all experiences of God are mediated historically and that obedience is one such mediation. We are addressed by God in and through experience. Martin Buber remarked that people won-der why God does not talk much nowadays. He says that too many people expect to hear God above or alongside daily life, and miss the point that, when situ-ation after situation calls us to make decisions that have effects, these situations are in fact the personal speech of God.2 The second presupposition is from Vatican Council II's Lumen gentium §9, that it has pleased God to save us not merely as individuals one by one, but as a people mutually related. Obedience has everything to do with the social matrix of redemption and, in our special case, the life of a religious community. We in religious life are a clear instance of persons mutually related. The Issue of Power Church thought and behavior including these reflec-tions of mine--have always been influenced by the cul-ture at large. In the culture of feudalism, the church's and religious life's sense of themselves reflected that culture. In civil life, there were a few princes and dukes, lords and ladies, and all the rest were subjects and had to obey them. Church authority tended to reflect that structure. Recall the phrase for bishops and cardinals ("princes of the church"), and the terms of address ("Your Excellency" and "Your Eminence"). At ordination the newly ordained 291 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience 292 places his hands between the hands of the bishop and promises obedience to him, not to the reign of God. In religious life the designated community leaders were called superiors, which logically makes community members "inferiors." Higher leaders were and still are sometimes generals. Obedience operated in that frame-work. Titles are an index to a community's social struc-ture. There were incredible leaders in this system in the church and in religious life, but it was still this system. By and large, feudal tendencies were muted in religious life, but they were part of our history. Community members understood themselves somewhat feudally in their relationship with designated community leaders. We are in a different position in Western culture today because of a late-18th-century paradigm shift to a social matrix different from feudalism. But we must remember that more participative approaches to group decision making are really quite new if we consider reli-gious life's long history. In his bicentennial book on the French Revolution, Simon Schama discusses that paradigm shift as an aban-donment of feudal structures, in which most people were subjects, and a desire among people for wider participation in their communal life. He says: "While it was commonplace to recognize that the Revolution gave birth to a new kind of political world, it is less often understood that that world was the product of two irreconcilable interests--the creation of potent states and the creation of a community of free citizens.''3 Mutatis mutandis, these political pulls were felt in the church and in religious life. They are reflected cur-rently, for example, in the matter of episcopal collegi-ality. In parishlife in the United States, about eighty percent of Roman Catholics want a voice in the spending of parish income and in matters pertaining to justice and welfare. Over seventy percent would like to have a voice in the appointment of priests to a parish.4 This is a desire to be ecclesial citizens. Women's orders, by and large, have made significant moves toward the post- Revolution leadership paradigm. Vatican II's attention to episcopal collegiality was also a move in this direc-tion, but there is still a need for wholehearted careful development. With this as background, I am interested in ponder-ing religious obedience as part of the "post-feudal" social dynamics of a religious order's apostolic commitment to the reign of God in human history. The politics of mutual responsibil-ity for the common good would be a briefer statement of the same thing. Because politics has gotten such a questionable repu-tation in our culture, Bernard Crick felt compelled to write a small book (and a fine one), In Defense of Politics.5 We easily forget that Aristotle called politics a virtue in his treatment of the social nature of human beings, in the Nicomachean Ethics, book six.6 And St. Thomas sees politics as a virtue in his tract on prudence, De Prudentia, again as a consequence of our social nature.7 This sense of politics is a good framework for consider-ing religious obedience. The word politics is derived from the Greek word for a city (polis). Politics is how city dwellers--citizens-- We are in a different position in Western culture today because of a late-18th-century paradigm shift to a social matrix different from feudalism. 293 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience 294 construe their life together to best serve their common good. Given the inevitable variety of experiences and perceptions within any group, political astuteness guides the compromises people must make in their collective espousal of the most good for all--this must not be allowed to mean a bland minimum of good. That would be bad politics. Among religious, common good is intimately related to our community's mission and to the social circumstances where we are missioned. Religious obe-dience implies a common quest for the reign of God. Maximizing that quest requires some "political" jockey-ing and compromising. In view of this, I want to reflect of the issue of power. The word power sounds threaten-ing, but it is a neutral term. Power is an issue whenever two or more people are engaged in any social interac-tion. Power is present in dialogue and collaboration. In the reflections that follow, I am especially indebted to Bernard Loomer's lecture on social ethics, "Two Kinds of Power," at the University of Chicago's Divinity School, and to Elizabeth Janeway's book The Powers of the Weak. I am interested in how communities and community leadership at every level obey together the reign of God. This may sound quixotic, but I will give it a try. This approach is limited in scope. It is concerned with obedience's social matrix, and does not touch upon the asceticism that healthy obedience requires, nor upon the prayer life that supports it, nor upon the relation-ship with God that it mediates. In my reflection I have in mind active apostolic religious orders, with mission as a key category. Loomer's "Two Kinds of Power" Bernard Loomer says, first of all, that "the presence Review for Religious of power is manifest whenever two or more people are gathered together and have any kind of relationship," and also that "its deeper and sometimes darker qualities emerge as soon as the omnipresent factor of inequality makes itself felt . The problem of power is the prob-lem of the quality of our lives.''8 I recognize that as true, wherever and whenever, in a group as small as two or as large as a nation. Loomer's major contribution to social thought is his analysis of unilateral power and relational power. The most common under-standing of power in the United States, and not infrequendy in the church, is the unilateral version of it, "the capacity to influ-ence, guide, adjust, manip-ulate, shape, control., to advance one's own pur-poses," and to be affected as little as possible in the process.9 In this pervasive model of power, one person's gain in power is nearly always connected with another's loss of power. The postconciliar Christian heart and mind seek a countercultural alternative to unilateral It takes a strong and secure person to practice relational power, one willing to be influenced by others. power. The exercise of this relational power presumes "the ability both to produce and [to] undergo an effect . . ¯ [for] the capacity to absorb an influence is as truly a mark of power as is the strength involved in exert-ing an influence.''~° One should not try to exert influ-ence without having been influenced by that situation or those persons, in order first to have an appreciative understanding of what one hopes to influence. 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience 296 It takes a strong and secure person to practice rela-tional power, one willing to be influenced by others. We should not try to have effects on any person or event that we do not first understand. If we do understand, it is only because our knowledge arises from our thor-oughly experiencing someone or something "other." There is a profound and respectful mutuality in the exercise of relational power that does not characterize unilateral power. I am suggesting that healthy obedience belongs more fully and redemptively to relational power than to unilateral power. Relational power functions effectively amidst rela-tively secure people, a hard saying for something so important. When reflecting on the implications of a rich life for one who lives relational power, Loomer calls it "S-I-Z-E" and spells it out. He calls it S-I-Z-E because it takes a "big person," a secure human being, to practice it. If I were looking for a good contemporary description of holiness, I would include these thoughts, which are as applicable to a community as to an individual: By S-I-Z-E I mean the stature of your soul, the range and depths of your love, your capacity for relation-ships. I mean the volume of life you can take into your being and still maintain your integrity and indi-viduality. I mean the intensity and variety of outlook you can entertain in the unity of your being without feeling defenseless or insecure. I mean the strength of your spirit to encourage others to become freer in the development of their diversity and uniqueness. I mean the power to sustain more complex and enrich-ing tensions. I mean the magnanimity of concern to provide the conditions that enable others to increase in stature. To me, S-I-Z-E is the fundamental cat-egory. It is the essential principle. Everything else in life is an abstraction from this or a commentary upon it.~ Review for Religious That is the context for relational power. A theological note about the exercise of power is in order. What any religion does is propose the absolute perfection of God. The ways that the Greeks and the Hebrews do it contrast sharply. One who interprets God wearing a Greek hat would say that God is absolutely immutable, cannot change, because perfect being can-not change. If you can be better tomorrow than you are today, you are not perfect. If you can be worse tomor-row than today, you are surely not perfect. If you can simply be different tomorrow than today, you are not now all that you can be. So, in Greek logic, if God is perfect being, God cannot change. God then exercises unilateral power, having effects, but never being truly affected. In his book The Divine Relativity, Charles Hartshorne says: "The politically, and I am confident theologically, sounder principle is this, that he who is most adequately influenced by all may most appropriately exert influence upon all.''~2 Hebrew logic about God reflects something closer to Hartshorne's remark. It claims God's perfection as perfect love rather than perfect being, which implies being profoundly affected by the being of the ones loved. Our love must change because the ones we love change. Perfect love is not immutable, but rather the ultimate instance of relationality, and therefore the most mutable of all beings. I want to say that there is more biblical testimony for a relational understanding of God's power than a unilateral interpretation. God speaks: Sometimes I announce that I shall uproot, break down, and destroy a certain nation or kingdom; should the nation I have threatened.abandon its wick-edness, I then change my mind about the disaster I intended to afflict. Sometimes I announce that I shall build up or plant a certain nation or kingdom, but 297 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience should that nation do what displeases me and refuse to listen to my voice, I then change my mind about the good I had intended. (Jr 18:7-10) One remembers also that Abraham and Moses both bargained with God to change God's mind--not philo-sophical arguments but midrashic intuitions. I am suggesting that obedience is about the exercise of power in a community and that relational power is the appropriate exercise of power. In fact, the English word obedience comes from two Latin words, audire, "to listen," and oh, to be "right in front of" what one is lis-tening to. This is not a minor insight. It is a picture of relational power. In relational power, the "power" is understood as being first of all in the community at large, in the life of the community. Elizabeth Janeway's reflections pertain more to the community's power to shape decisions than to designated leaders' power to shape them. Janeway's "Powers of the Weak" In her book Elizabeth Janeway says: "There is noth-ing inherently 'better' about the weak or 'worse' about the powerful, as human beings. What is 'better' is that a relative balance should exist between the members of a power relationship.''13 She describes three ways that those who in unilateral power situations are outside that power can exert power. The first of these is to announce their disbelief publicly, to call into question another's power to define or name something. It is to say out loud that something else could be the case, and maybe that a better case could be made. "The ordered use of the power to disbelieve, the first power of the weak, begins here, with the refusal to accept the definition of oneself that is put forward by the powerful.''14 Review for Religious The second power of the weak is in coming together, because "when mistrust [disbelief] is solitary, it can react against the doubter . Mistrust needs validation, and that comes from the assurances that one's doubts are realistic and shared by others.''~s The third power of the weak somewhat resembles a union strike or even civil disobedience--whatever its form, it is a public collective voice. Important here are the two words "collective" and "public." Though Elizabeth Janeway's reflections on the pow-ers of the weak may sound extreme, underneath them is the presumption that care for the common good is the duty of the entire community. Leadership and community are both there to serve the common good. The community's percep-tion of the common good needs to be spelled out and deserves to be a shaper of leadership and even an exercise of leadership. Similarly a designated leader's perceptions must be taken seri-ously by the entire community. There is a strong element of mutuality in the social function of obedience, but many social constructions of reality do not recognize this. The wily American composer Charles Ives once remarked that everybody knows more than anybody. I would not push this remark to an extreme, but it surely expresses some trust in collective discernment and wis-dom. On the other hand, one person sometimes has more wisdom than the collective. Leadership and community are both there to serve the common good. 299 The Dialogue between the Word and the World Meticulous discernment of what is needed to imple- 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social 2Vlatrix of Religious Obedience oo] ment the reign of God, and appropriate celebration of what has already been successfully implemented, are both situated in a social matrix. Active apostolic reli-gious orders exist for collaborating with God's inten-tions for human history. This collaboration requires a community's attentive listening to what faith seeks and attentive listening to what specific social situations need or even cry out for. It also requires a careful communal search for the best strategic response, given the actual resources, great-or small, at their disposal. Whatever contributes in any way participates in leadership and invites obedience. In order to follow Mary's advice at Cana to "do whatever he tells you," it helps to remember Martin Buber's reminder that you or I encounter God speak-ing to us personally when our assessment'of events and circumstances demands that we make our decision and take our stand. I would add that often it is we, not just you or I, who must hear and obey what God is telling the bunch of us to conclude and do as a community. The Second Vatican Council stated this clearly: The people of God. labors to decipher the authen-tic signs of God's presen(e and purpose in the hap-penings, needs, and desires in which this people has a part along with other men and women of our age. For faith throws a new light on everything . . . and thus directs the mind to solutions which are fully human. (GS §11) In a similar vein, Paul Hanson describes what he considers to be the dynamics of any community that is called into existence by its Christian faith: Within biblical communities of faith, God's activity in the world was discerned in the interaction between confessional [congregational] heritage and new Review for Religious events. And word and world continue to interrelate in the life of religious communities today. Utmost care must be given to both sides of this two-dimensional exegesis. As much harm can be done by applying an inadequately understood word to a well-understood world as in applying a well-understood word to an inadequately understood world.16 This, I believe, is the context for discernment. If I were preparing a formation program, I would put a high priority on developing skills in social analysis and in hermeneutics (understanding the dynamics of interpret-ing our faith traditions) and al

Issue 67.1 of the Review for Religious, 2008. ; Mission Praye~r Consecrated Life Spiritual Supports QUARTERLY 67.'I 2008 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul V! said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ \Veb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McD6nough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2008 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distrihution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such perntission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 67.1 2008 contents prisms 4 Prisms 13 23 mission Conversation: A Brave New Way of Mission James P. McCloskey CSSP envisions creating an experience of "common ground" among people of goodwill within religious congregations about the many issues that cause division. Personal/Group Reflection Questions An "Asian" Meditation on the Gift of Mission James H. Kroeger MM reflects on the "mission motive" mentioned first by the Federation of Asian Bishops Conference: a deep sense of gratitude to God. prayer A Dream, Ash Wednesday, .and the Word Godelieve Theys OCSO shares a dream that has profound implications for finding God's Word alive and powerful, having always new things to say. Pedagogy of Prayer Jghn Carroll Futrell SJ reviews many aspects of our Christian prayer and suggests practical ways of making our lives more prayer-filled. Personal/Group Reflection Questions Pray Passionately Brendan Kneale FSC addresses the need to bring to our prayers a passion of the sort found in the wording of many Psalms. Revie~v for Religious 54 6O 67 consecrated life 0 The Institute of Impracticalities: The Financial Support of Monasteries Clifford Stevens cautions that, as soon as the mere support of the monastery becomes the primary concern, "practicality" takes over and Divine Providence goes right out the window. Enclosure and Other Ways to Widen One's Horizons M. Regina van den Berg FSGM argues that the experiences that travel and the media make possible are often escapes from reality, while the limited environment of the enclosure can widen our horizons. Religious Brotherhood Today Anthony Malaviaratchi CSSR sets. forth the challenges facing religious brothers' congregations, especially within the South Asian context. 74 85 spiritual supports Room for Sacramental Reconciliation? Vincent Genovesi SJ presents a solid theological and pastoral response to the questions raised about the usefulness or necessity of the rite of reconciliation. Personal/Group Reflection Questions Mentors Mentored: Spiritual Companionship with a Saint Lou Ella Hickman IWBS shares her experience of choosing St. Edith Stein to be her mentor as she mentors others on their spiritual journey. departments 89 Scripture Scope: Reading the Sermon on the Mount 94 Canonical Counsel: Personal Records of Community Members 100 Book Reviews 67.1 2008 prisms As we move eight years into the 21st century, we could well take stock of how we are measuring up to the vision and mission set before us by John Paul II's apostolic letter "At the begin-ning of the new millennium." As the pope noted, we are not in the peren-nial process of inventing a new program each year or even each century. The program consists in the plan found in the Gospel and in the liv-ing tradition of the church. "It has its center in Christ himself, who is to be known, loved, and imitated so that in him we may live the life of the Trinity and with him transform history until its fulfillment in the heavenly Jerusalem." But this Gospel program has to be translated into pastoral initiatives that are adapted to the circumstances of each local church and each local religious com-munity. That is the action call as we begin anew with the favor of another year. Where do we begin? There can be no other beginning than the challenge issued by Vatican II's Lumen gentium, chapter 5: the universal call to holiness. All our pastoral planning, all our religious renewal efforts, all our peace and jus-tice endeavors are measured by the clarity of our focus on holiness. In the way we live and in what we do, the question is most realistic and practical: Do we want to become holy? Is that our desire for others? There can be no growth in holiness without our entering more fully into a learning how to pray. While a widespread interest in spirituali- Review for Religious ties and spiritual practices is a contemporary phenomenon, the foundation remains a personal prayer life. Prayer, even in its most contemplative and cloistered forms, opens our hearts simultaneously to the love of God and to the love of our brothers and sisters. It is our Christian prayer that enables us to be shapers of movements and events in our local situation and sometimes even more widely in the world. It is prayer that roots us in the truth that "without Me, you can do nothing" (Jn 15:5). When we pray, we acknowledge the primacy of Christ and, in union with him, the primacy of the interior life and of holiness. Prayer itself needs to be nourished consistendy with a listening to the Word of God. As we continue to steep ourselves in Scripture, we find ourselves warming to the passion of sharing the Good News. This passion leads to a new sense of mission--mission not reserved to specialists or to lands different from our own. Yet witnessing to our faith vision must happen within a context of sensitivity to the differ-ent religious and value paths of our fellow citizens and to the diversity of cultures present within our own country in which the Christian message is expressed. In challenging all of us ordinary Christians, the pope writes: "A new apos-tolic outreach is needed which will be lived as the everyday commitment of Christian communities ahd groups." As Vatican II's Gaudium et spes §34 says, "The Christian message does not inhibit men and women from building up the world or make them disinterested in the welfare ofotheir fellow human beings: On the contrary, it obliges them more fully to do these very things." Review for Religious is privileged to play its part, through its many authors, in sharing insights and encouraging practices for this Christian mission. David L. Fleming SJ 67.1 2008 mission JAMES P. Mc CLOSKEY Conversation: A Brave New Way of Mission Ensnarled in traffic on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, I began to listen to a radio talk pro-gram more intendy than usual. I'was searching for words of consolation on a long and tedious drive. What I found was a fascinating--and stirring--discussion about reconciliation. The topic was abortion, but the focus of the discus-sion was the search for "common ground." The hour-long program was a recapitula-tion of meetings that occurred during the past year. The meetings were organized by women who had opposing positions on the issue of aborti6n. Representatives of both groups described themselves as feminists. The partici-pants in the year-long discussion were women accustomed to the public forum. That is, they were intelligent and articulate spokespersons James P. McCloskey CSSp writes from Congregazione dello Spirito Santo; Clivo di Cinna, 195; Roma 00136; Italy. Review for Religious for "pro-life" and "pro-choice" positions. During the year there had been unsuccessful attempts by some to cancel the series of meetings, angry leaks to the press about the discussions, and genuine fearfulness on both sides. But the meetings took place. And the result was extraordinary. Women who did not accept the position of other women who, in their opinion, allowed the law to regu-late their bodies listened nevertheless with compassion as their colleagues recounted their religious-faith con-victions, their differing understandings of the human person, and ~their simple--and different--biological beliefs. Other women, who could not theretofore abide the notion that females could terminate what they believed to be a human life within them, responded with empathy towards women whose scientific and human-istic principles were simply different from their own. In the end, members of neither group changed their positions. But also, in the end, members of both groups grew in respect and compassion for their "opponents." They achieved a form of "common ground" that will serve as the basis for future relationship and conversa-tion between them. Not for discussion of abortion do I raise this exam-ple, but as a way of envisioning and creating a similar experience of "common ground" among p~ople of good-will within religious congregations that were founded for mission and for service to the poor. The existence of multiple cultures within congregations, mirroring the multiple cultures within the Catholic Church, is evident. These cultures are related to the different languages, tribes, national identities, and ages within the congre-gations, but they are not confined to them. The social scientist Edgar Schein defines culture as "the deeper 67.1 2008 McCloskey * Conversation: A Brave New Way of Mission level of basic assumptions and beliefs that are shared by members of an organization, that operate unconsciously, and that define in a basic 'taken-for-granted' fashion an organization's view of itself and its environment."1 In Schein's view the most useful way to think about culture is to imagine it as "the accumulated shared learning of a given group, covering behavioral, emotional, and cogni-tive elements of the group members' total psychological functioning.''2 Since the publication of Schein's work, the under-standing and perception that most members of an orga-nization share the same cultural viewpoint has moved toward an awareness that many organizations contain multiple cultures or subcultures. Noting that some orga-nizations may have only fragmented, disjointed cultures, Joanne Martin has asked whether culture needs to be something internally consistent, or whether it can be inconsistent and expressive of difference. Can it incor-porate confusion, ignorance, paradox, and fragmenta-tion? What are the boundaries around culture, and how do cultures change?3 By multiple cultures within a religious congrega-tion, I mean the presence of differing and sometimes opposing worldviews under the umbrella of having been founded for a single purpose and with a single Rule of Life. Similarly, among Catholics in general, some define themselves as God's "pilgrim people," a term that implies moving towards the kingdom of God but not yet achieving it. Others think of the church as the kingdom of God here on earth. These different understandings translate into different understandings of morality, sac-ramental life, liturgy, and hierarchy. They are some-times called differences of "style," but they are more profound than that. Review for Religqous In religious missionary congregations, founded for "the spread of the gospel to those who have not yet heard it," it is no wonder that multiple cultures are the order of the day. On a large scale, those differences are racial, linguistic, ideological, generational, and ecclesi-astical. We make national and tribal attempts at "enculturation" of the life of our congregation and its values within a particular set-ting, translating ideals into prac-tice- often with success but not always. Within our congrega-tion's American subculture, mul-tiple differences of culture, are often experienced just as acutely and intensely as in international subcultures. Even in the "real 'life" of persons in one community, such as the same parish or school, different worldviews emerge that challenge common living. Recently, in a community-room conversation, a priest said, "It is impossible to be both Republican and Spiritan." He said it with the force of true conviction, and the Republican Spiritans in the room grew silent and began to seethe. In one prov-ince there are celebrations of the Tridentine liturgy, and there are those who question whether the celebration of daily Eucharist is ideal--or even spiritually healthy. The understanding and perception that most members of an organization share the same cultural viewpoint has moved toward an awareness ,that, many organizations contain multip!~e cultures or Subcultures. 67.1 2008 McCloskey * Conversation: A Brave New Way of Mis~ion There are liberals, conservatives, social activists, phi-losophers, and papists. A morley--and gracedmcrew! Undercurrents of cultural difference emerge in quiet discussions concerning the role of lay associates in the congregation; concerning the rising influence of the "southern" provinces, where candidates are many and new energy and vitality overshadow the elders of the "north"; and concerning members who choose to live and work in "untraditional" settings, interpreting "mis-sion" in a different way. Undercurrents rise to the sur-face during provincial elections or national assemblies, when stakes are high and the level of well-being is at risk. Sometimes an "elephant in the room" is studiously ignored during discussion of clergy sexual abuse, sexual orientation, financial accountability, or institutional assessments. In congregations with a missionary orientation and an international membership, the formal "cultural" training of members tends to be thorough and highly professional. Degrees in cross-cultural communica-tion, missiology, and anthropology abound. Experts in interreligious dialogue, ecumenism, and international development are fairly commonplace. Candidates in for-marion spend a period of ministry in another cultural context before definitive commitment, and most new members are assigned to countries not .their own. It is usual for members to achieve fluency in a second or even a third language. .Why, then, do we often find it difficult to talk among ourselves? Is it simply the human condition that the "traditionalists" will oppose the "progressives," that tribal alliances will win out over competence in choosing leadership, and that "turf wars" will decide who controls property and finance? We opted for more. Review for Religious And we know that the divisions are sinful reminders of our weakness. And so what is the solution to the dissolution? The solution is a simple one--a commitment to sustained and deliberate conversation for the purpose of achiev-ing "common ground." Following the model employed by the pro-life and pro-choice advo-cates, it is imperative to establish "rules" for dis-cussion. It is urgent to listen with care and real empathy. It is important to proceed with respect and humility. No one We know that the divisions are sinful reminders of . our weakness. person fully embodies the congregation's ideal mem-ber. Together, the members bear worldwide witness to the values espoused by its founders. No one perspective is to be eliminated or misjudged. The effort to engage in this conversation is fearful and intimidating. But it is the only way that differences can be respected--and, ultimately, that the persons expressing those different opinions will be respected and loved. The meaning of "mission" has changed since the foundation of the Spiritan congregafon in the 18th cen-tury. Far from an imposition of a foreign culture upon a people, mission is no less than sustained, purposeful, and respectful dialogue. It is a commitment to remain at the table, conversing honestly until the Spirit speaks. W-hat greater witness to the "mind of Christ" is possible than the example of a community determined to "linger at the table" and fully invest itself in genuine, honest conversation--for mission? 67.1 2008 McCloskey ¯ Conversation: A Brave New Way of Mission Notes t Edgar Schein, Organizational Culture and Leadership (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1985), p. 6. 2 Schein, Organizational Culture and Leadership, 2nd edition (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1992), p. 10. 3 Joanne Martin, Cultures in Organizations: Three Perspectives (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), p. 4. 2o o Personal/Group Reflection Questions Where does my sense 6f mission come from--directly from God, from superiors, from the community in which I live? What give me a continuing sense of confirmation and support for my mission? When do we talk about our mission-~our individual ministries or our corporate ministry together? What makes this conversation helpful? What makes it painful and contentious? Review for Religious JAMES H. KROEGER An "Asian" Meditation on the Gift of Mission ~/~y mission? This perennial, persistent question mits of a variety of valid responses. Asking why is fundamentally a question of "mission motivation." Why evangelize? Why be Jesus' disciple? Why concern yourself?. What ends does mission really serve? The bishops of Asia continually grapple with these questions as they explore the evangelizing mission of the church on this vast continent of four billion people, where less than three percent of the burgeoning masses are Christian. Although these leaders of the church in Asia have elucidated several reasons for engaging in mission, what is striking is the "mission motive" they James H. Kroeger MM has since 1970 served mission in the Philippines and Bangladesh. Currently he is professor of Mission Studies and Islamics at the Loyola School of Theology; Ateneo de Manila University; Katipunan Avenue, Loyola Heights; Quezon City 1108; Philippines. jkroeger@admu.edu.ph 67.1 2008 Kroeger * The Gift of Mission mentioned first during the fifth plenary assembly of the Federation of Asian Bishops' Conferences (FABC). Collectively they forcefully asserted: "We evange-lize, first of all, from a deep sense of gratitude to God, the Father 'who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing' (Ep 1:3) and sent the Spirit into our hearts so that we may share in God's own life. Mission is above all else an overflow of this life from grateful hearts transformed by the grace of God" (FABC V). The Asian bishops vigorously affirm: "That is why it is so important for us Christians to have a deep faith-experience of the love of God in Christ Jesus (Rm 8:39), that love which has been poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has ,been given to us (Rm 5:5). Without a personal experience of this love received as gift and mercy, no sense of mission can flourish" (FABC V). Note some of the words and phrases that the FABC uses to describe this motive for mission: "gratitude to God," "grateful hearts," "spiritual blessing," "given to us," "love received as gift and mercy." Indeed, mission is viewed as a gi~, graciously given, gratefully received, and generously shared. Gratitude is a powerful motive for energetic evangelization. The Image of Gift All cultures and peoples give gifts, particularly on special occasions and at significant life events: birthdays, weddings, holidays, anniversaries. Gifts bond people together, they express gratitude and appreciation. Gifts are chosen personally and carefully, to please each recip-ient. Often gifts-are exchanged at the same moment, further cementing families together, and friends too. Asians have elevated gift-giving into an art. What would Chinese celebrations and the Lunar New Year Review for Religiot~ be without generous gifts offered in red envelopes (ang-pao)? In Korea the ritual celebration of one's sixtieth birthday (hwangap) is an occasion for lavish gifting. No Filipino feels comfortable without bringing some pasa-lubong-- large or small--when returning home. Probably it is the experience of giving and receiving gifts--so deeply human--that prompted Asia's bishops to see gratitude for abundant grace received as a fit-ting image and motive for mission. This gift image expresses Christian thankfulness for God's unique, gra-tuitous, gift--Jesus the Son. Each day in the Eucharist, a Greek word that means thanksgiving (eucha-ristein), we say "we do well always and everywhere to give you thanks." Frequently in the Mass the Prayer over the Gifts refers to the "holy exchange of gifts." To help in grasping the deep meaning in the image of mission as gift, this "Asian" reflection now presents three interrelated moments of what might be termed "gift missiology." Three "R" words capture mission-as-gift: Recognize, Receive, and Reciprocate. Recognize by being profoundly aware of the uniqueness of God's gift. Receive by personally appropriating God's gift. Reciprocate by sharing God's gift with others. :The first moment in hppreciatin g "gift missiology" is ~to become deeply conscious of th~ depths of God's love. Recognizing the Gift The first moment in appreciating "gift missiology" is to become deeply conscious of the depths of God's 67.1 2008 Kroeger ¯ The Gift of Mission love, the love of the Trinity. The mission decree of the Second Vatican Council (Ad gentes) noted: "The pilgrim church is missionary by her very nature. For it is from the mission of the Son and the mission of the Holy Spirit that she takes her origin, in accordance with the decree of God the Father. This decree [divine plan] flows from that 'fountain of love' or charity within God" (AG §2). Mission originates in the centrifugal love of the Trinity; our missionary God shares of his essence which is love. God the Father gifts us with his incar-nate Son and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. One can receive no greater gift. Prayer and contemplation facilitate a depth-awareness of this great gift. The New Testament is replete with expressions of God's magnanimous generosity. Paul reminds the Romans: "Adam prefigured the One to come, but the gift considerably outweighed the fall . Divine grace, coming through the one man Jesus Christ, came to so many as an abundant free gift. The results of the gift also outweigh the results of one man's sin . Jesus Christ will cause everyone to reign in life who receives the free gift that he does not deserve" (Rm 5:15-17). As one con-templates God's profound generosity, gratitude wells up in_the heart, leading one to proclaim "Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift" (2 Co 9:15). Recognizing God's gifts also means being pro-foundly aware that we do not earn or merit the gifts; they come from God's generosity, as Paul explains to the Ephesians: "This was to show for all ages to come, through his goodness towards us in Christ Jesus, how infinitely rich he is in grace. Because it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith; not by anything of your own, but by a gift from God; not by anything that you have done, so that nobody can claim the credit. We Review for Religious are God's work of art" (Ep 2:7-10). Paul encourages the Romans to humbly receive God's gifts: "I want to urge each one among you not to exaggerate his real impor-tance . Our gifts differ according to the grace given us" (Rm 12:3-8). As Jesus prepares to leave his disciples, he promises them: "I shall ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you forever, that Spirit of Truth. ¯ ." (Jn 14:16). Jesus' prom-ise is fulfilled at'. Pentecost: God's generous gifts are for all peoples, whatever their religious, ,ethnic, or cultural background. "They were all I ~ filled with the - Holy Spirit .The Spirit gave them the gift of speech [to] proclaim the marvels of God" (Ac 2:1-12). The early Christian community--and our church today--have been assured of God's continuous generos-ity: "You will not be without any of the gifts of the Spirit while you are waiting for our Lord Jesus Christ to be revealed" (1 Co 1:7). Paul notes that all gifts have one source: "There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit . All these are the work of the one and the same Spirit, who distributes different gifts to different people just as he chooses" (1 Co 12:1-12). God's generous gifts are for all peoples, whatever their religious, ethnic, or cultural background; thus, "the Holy Spirit came down on all the listeners . All were astonished that the gift of the Holy Spirit should be poured out on the pagans too" (Ac 10:44-45). Peter proclaims God's graciousness in Jaffa, saying: "I realized 67.1 2008 Kroeger * The Gift of Mission then that God was giving them the identical gift be gave to us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, and who was I to stand in God's way?" (Ac 11:17). Mission originates in this profound consciousness of what the Father has graciously wrought in Christ Jesus and their Spirit, continually manifested in the church. St. Th~r~se of Lisieux expressed her awareness of God's gift when she concluded: "My vocation is Love! In the heart of the church, my Mother, I shall be Love. Thus, I shall be everything." Receiving the Gift A transformed consciousness that fully appreciates God's graciousness will receive the gift of faith with a joyful heart. One need only recall how this precious gift has been given and received. One could ask: Why of the four billion people in Asia have I been privileged to receive the gift of Christian faith? Who were God's instruments in transmitting the gift to me? What price did my parents or the missionaries have to pay so that I would have this great treasure? Who are the holy people in my life who have helped me appreciate God's gifts? Reflecting on these questions will facilitate a more per-sonal reception of God's gifts of grace. When Jesus engages the Samaritan woman at the well, he challenges her to have a deeper appreciation of the gift being offered: "If you only knew the giJ~ God is offering and who it is that is saying to you: Give me a drink, you would have been the one to ask, and he would have given you living water" (Jn 4:10). Writing to the Corinthians, Paul invites them to a more profound awareness of the gift of being a Christian; he says: "People must~ think of us as Christ's servants, stewards entrusted with the mysteries of God. Review for Religious What is expected of stewards is that each one should be found worthy of his trust . What do you have that was not given to you? And if it was given, how can you boast as though it were not?" (1 Co 4:1-2,7). Both the Samaritan woman and the Corinthian community are to appreciate that, since they have been recipients of God's gifts, they themselves are now able to be gifts to others. Precisely because one is loved, has experienced God's love, and has thus become lovable, one can reach out to others with the gift of love. This is the transformed ° - consciousness that God's gifting creates in receptive individuals. One is reminded of what the Asian bishops have said: "Without a personal experience of this love received as gift and mercy, no sense of mission can flour-ish" (FABC V). A deep reception of God's Trinitarian gifting will result in a further gift: a personal vocation to minis-try. This was the "conversion" experience of St. Paul; the Lord affirmed: "This man is my chosen instrument to bring my name before pagans and pagan kings and ¯ before the people of Israel" (Ac 9:15). Paul personally owns this gift: "I have been made the servant of that gospel by a gi~ of grace from God who gave it to me by his own power" (Ep 3:7). Paul celebrates God's choice, noting that: "God never takes back his gi)~ or revokes his choice" (Rm 11:29). Reception of God's gift is a continuous, ongoing '~ A deep reception of, -God's Trinitarian gifting will result in a further gift: a personal vocation to ministry. 67.1 2008 Kroeger ¯ The Gift of Mission process. Paul reminds his beloved Timothy (and us) to keep growing in receptiveness (appreciation, personal-ization, appropriation) of God's gift: "You have in you a spiritual gift which was given to you when the prophets spoke and the body of elders laid their hands on you; do not let it lie unused. Think hard about all this, and put it into practice" (1 Tm 4:14-15). Reciprocating God's Gift The New Testament passage that best captures this third moment of gift missiology is: "What you have received as a gift, give as a gift" (Mt 10:8). The logic is simple: if one truly appreciates a gift, one wishes to share it with others. The desire to gift others is the best and clearest manifestation of authentic gratitude. The New Testament letters of James and Peter add further insight: "Make no mistake about this, my dear brothers: every good gift, everything that is perfect, is given us from abtve; it comes down from the Father of all light" (Jm 1:16-17). "Each of you has received a special gift, so like good stewards responsible for all these different graces of God, put yourselves at the service of others . . . so that in everything God may receive the glory." (1 P 4:10-11). Pope John Paul II'S 1999 apostolic exhortation Ecclesia in Asia (EA) provides several insightful per-spectives on how the church in Asia is to "reciprocate" (return, repay) the gifts it has received. "The church's faith in Jesus is a gift received and a gift to be shared; it is the greatest gift which the church can offer to Asia" (EA § 10b). "Blessed with ~the gift of faith; the church [is to become] a community aflame with missionary zeal to make Jesus known, loved, and followed . The great Review for Religious question now facing the church in Asia is how to share with our Asian brothers and sisters what we treasure as the gift containing all gifts, namely, the Good News of Jesus Christ" (EA §19a & c). "Only if the people of God recognize the gift that is theirs in Christ will they be able to communicate that gift to others through proclamation and dialogue" (EA §3 If). The perspective of "mission as gift" contains sev-eral insights on the approach or manner of mission in Asia, which is necessarily dialogue. Christians treasure the gift of their trinitarian faith, offering it freely, even enthusiastically, to others. The gift is offered with a sincere heart, yet all evangelizers know that people are free to accept or reject the gift. The dialogue partners, such as Muslims and Buddhists, also have gifts to offer: the riches of their faith and their personal "God experi-ence." Thus, a wonderful exchange of gifts can result. All people who ha~e the gift of faith need to collaborate so that through sharing their gifts they can" enrich the poor and needy in their midst. The Asian bishops were indeed most perceptive in their reflection on a renewed motivation for mission, listing gratitude first among several possible motives. Recall what they said: "We evangelize, first of all, from a deep sense of gratitude to God. Mission is above all else an overflow of this life from grateful hearts trans-formed by the grace of God . Without a personal experience of this life received as gift and mercy, no sense of mission can flourish" (FABC V). Paul's well-worded exhortation to his co-evangelizer Timothy provides a fitting conclusion for these reflec-tions on the gift of mission (gift missiology). In Paul's words, Christifins can find a reprise Of their recognition, reception, and reciprocation of the gift Of faith. Paul writes: 67.1 2008 Kroeger ¯ The Gift of Mission "Fan into a flame the gift that God gave you when I laid my hands on you .Never be ashamed of witness-ing to the Lord . Bear hardships for the sake of the Good News . Accept the strength that comes from the grace of Christ Jesus . Proclaim the message and, welcome or unwelcome, insist on it . Do all with patience . Make the preaching of the Good News your life's work, in thoroughgoing service" (2 Tm 1:6, 8-9a; 2:1; 4:1,5). Mary Keeping Shabbat There would be nearly nine months ahead Of seventh-day worship in synagogue, Sitting with her sisters and her mother In the women's rows, opposite the minyun Of their men, her secret blossoming within her, Thrusting against the homespun of her gown. She hugged its warm folds, the warm hand Of her mother covering her own. For Jews Seeking signs to believe in, or to disbelieve, The signs were there every Shabbat - seventh- Month, eighth-month - that a daughter of righteous Parents was boldly with child, Her Joseph betrayed! Her betrayer someone here among us! Watch where She turns her eyes. But she only turns her eyes To heaven, while saying her Shabbat prayers, Singing the Shabbat psalms, a bright-haired Mary, keeping Sunday in her womb. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious GODELIEVE THEYS A Dream, Ash Wednesday; and the Word In my fifty years of living in a Catholic mon-astery, an important element of my religious development has been to pay close attention to dreams. My daily life involves prayer, ritual, music, liturgy, silence, study, and work, while my nights, more than sleep, are often filled with religious imagery, prayer, and music as part of dreaming. In the Christian tradition there is a long, often neglected history of dreams pro-viding spiritual insight. John Sanford captures this in his book title: Dreams: God's Forgotten Language. Clearly much of the modern world has forgotten the significance of dreams~ as car-riers of spiritual teachings, and unfortunately, even in religious tradition, we often leave these divine messages of the night unattended. Godelieve Theys OCSO.came from Belgium in 1962 to help found her new Cistercian home at Redwoods Abbey; 18104 Briceland Road; Whitethorn, California 95589. prayer 67.1 2008 Theys ¯ A Dream, Ash Wednesday, and the Word It was in a dream that St. Joseph was warned by an angel to take the holy Child out of Israel for protection from a king who would kill the newborn King. Joseph knew the power of dreams and followed the instruction provided in the night. Where are we in our willingness to listen and follow the dream messengers? Growing older as I am, I recently recalled a dream in which I was told, "You should at least write a book to serve human-ity." This made little sense to me at the time. I did not see myself as an author, and I had no desire or inten-tion to write for others until recently. In the past year I was so deeply moved by a specific dream that I now find myself creating material that seems to want to be shared widely. Though I am not writing a book, I still hope that my experiences may help others realizer that dreams can give'insight into the mysterious reality we call the religious or the spiritual. Religion, while in gen-eral being about dogma and tradition, is also personal, being about the soul's movement towards God. Key to monastic living is to find the divine in all of life's experi-ences. Like St. Joseph, we are called to listen to angelic voices in the night, to listen to dreams as insights into religious living. Last year during Lent I had an indelible dream. For much of this year I have been trying to hear fully the message that it offers. The dream has changed me and continues to do so. The dream was this: It was Ash Wednesday. I was aware that the morning liturgy mate-rial was already typed, but that the evening material was not. I left the church and went for a morning walk outdoors, as I often do. There I saw something alive on the ground. I bent down and touched it. It was the Word for the evening liturgy, alive under my hand. I was moved to tears. It was a numinous experience. I Review for Religious wondered what to do? Should I keep this living Word with me until after lunch, protecting the Word so that it would not be destroyed or die before it was typed for the evening service, or should I return immediately to the community and get it typed right away? I was per-plexed. I awoke singing the refrain of the song "Deep Within." My words were: "Deep within I will plant my law, not on stone, but in your heart. Follow me, I will bring you back; be my own, and I will be your God." I could not recall making any decision. Besides the music, the thing that jumped out for me in the dream was the breathtaking feeling that in touching the Word I was experiencing the living pres-ence of God. In the dream ~- - - this experience of God . ¯ in the Word comes after I leave the church and take a walk amid some of nature's beauty. For me this confirms the church's i'~ life and traditional struc- ', tures and also my rela- , tion to our monastery's natural environment. Going outdoors, as in my dream image, reminds me of the evolution of consciousness itself. Awareness develops through our contact with the: outside world, through relationship with the world around us. Living in the heart of a forest, I am blessed in knowing the world as divine creation. For years I have walked daily in the beauty of our landscape to be restored. Walking and attending to nature is a way of quieting the mind and refreshing the soul. The wonder of the natural world offers my constant .mental activ-ity the opportunity to be touched by the realm of the In touching the Word I was experiencing the living presence of God. 67.1 2008 Theys ¯ A Dream, Ash Wednesday, and the Word senses. In this dream of finding the Word alive, on the ground before me, my senses seem to come fully alive and open me to the deeper experience of this religious moment. Might the Word be more available than we imagine if only we were more attuned to this possibility? Seeing with our eyes, hearing with our ears, touching with our hands---how much of life are we missing and how much spiritual potential lies undiscovered simply'because we are not aware? This dream calls me to greater attention because in it I saw the Word, alive, under my hand. I felt its pulse. It was like a little bird that could' not fly and was waiting perhaps for me to pick it up, hold it gently, quench its thirst, that it could recover its strength and fly again. It was truly an experience of the sacred to feel this life under my hand, to feel the living substance of it. In that moment there was an immediate relationship between God's Word and me. Eros, relatedness, was involved. I was deeply moved; my heart was touched to the point of tears. The Word needs to be seen, to be heard, to be spoken, to be listened to, and to be fol-lowed so that its message can get through and heal the depths of the heart. It is important to me that this Word was found, not only outdoors, but also on the ground, on the earth in front of me--not above, not in the air, not transcendent. Here a divine Word was putting itse!f right in front of me, like something that was lost. There it was, all by itself, needing my help, needing me to keep my eyes open or miss a divine manifestation. Iv am reminded of the story of the rabbi who was asked, "How is it that God doesn't speak to people as he did in the past?" The rabbi answered: "Because no one bows low enough any-more." Bowing low is a gesture of humility that we may Review for Religious lack. As modern people we seek the spiritual above and beyond, outside the world of matter, and perhaps are not humble enough to see what is right before us. But, returning to the dream, what is before me is the Word. Living in a contemplative community, I am regularly in touch with the Word of God in Scripture-- and in the Rule of St. Benedict as well. These are important for my daily life. In this tradition there is nothing more powerful than the teaching in the opening verse of St. John's Gospel: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." Before the evangelist, the prophet Isaiah told us: "The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of God will stand firm" (Is 40:58). And Jesus himself said: "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away" (Mt 5:18). In reflecting upon the Word as it comes in the dream, I am reminded that there are many words--vol-umes upon volumes filled with them--and there is the Word. This dream clearly reflects the power of the Word. As Heidegger said, "language is more than little puffs of breath." Words are wellsprings of energy, giving us the power to communicate with one another, to share our thoughts, feelings, and experiences. Words bring us into relationship with the world around us and with our inner world as well. They put us in touch with our past, lead us into the future, and help us realize actual Words bring us into relationship with theWorld around Us and with, our inner world as well. 67.1 2008 Theys ¯ A Dream, Ash Wednesday, and the Word situations and attitudes in the present. They tell us what is in our mind and heart. Words both wound and heal. They are not only expressions of our conscious life, our ego identity, but also of our unconscious, as it comes through in dreams. They often have deeper meanings than what they stand for in ordinary life. They are chan-nels to our deeper and truer identity. Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, now Pope Benedict XVl, in his book Salt of the Earth reminds us that "the word revealed in history is definitive, but it is inexhaustible, and it unceasingly discloses new depths. In this sense, the Holy Spirit, as the interpreter of Christ, speaks with his word to every age and shows it that this word always has something new to say.''1 The Holy Spirit, as the interpreter of Christ, who is God's definitive Word, "always has something new to say," but are we prepared to listen? Listening to my dream, I return to Ash Wednesday and sense the meaning of Lent, a meaning that tells me that, through deeper listening and closer attention to both dreams and daily life, we might come to greater awareness of the Word as it reveals itself to us. Nonetheless, I can-not help wondering why the Word, as it comes in this dream, does not address itself direcdy to me. Why does it not communicate what it expects me to do? I do not know what choice I made about taking care of the Word I was holding. It was only when I woke hearing the song "Deep Within" that I came to sense the message of the Word in this dream, the message of "Follow me." Turning.to the Gospels, I think of Jesus saying "Follow me" in several instances. The words of the song in my dream return: "Follow me, I will bring you back; be my own, and I will be your God." The Word will bring us back, will reveal our true selves, if only we are Review for Religious willing to follow the path of Jesus, the path of becom-ing a new being, with the only true name we have: I am. To follow Jesus as the enlightened one coming out of his baptism as the Son of God, the Beloved, involves living in relationship to the Word. We must entrust ourselves to the flow of life and consciously live the seasonal changes from death to new birth. Like the day that flows into night, we are always in transformation. Nothing remains static. Laziness, not striving to be con-stantly awake, locks us into one place and we stagnate and decay. Commitment to following the Word leads into the paschal mystery, the cycle of life, death, and resurrection. We are to let go of our attachments, not only to material possessions, but also to family, profession, social group, community, even to institutional religion. Like the rich young man who asked Jesus what he must do to have life, we must let go of what we have or who we think we are. We are to sell all and follow the path that leads to greater life, and, as Thomas Merton said when he was at Red, woods in 1968, "we have to stand on our own two feet." Along the same line, Elizabeth B. Howes wrote: "To sell all., means to renounce that right to choose the specificity of one's own desire and to let oneself be molded by the Patterning of the moment. Through such conscious choice, we give back to its true owner what we have been given. It is as if our life were on loan. We either take it and run away to shape it as we will, or we turn it back to its Source in a volitional act of choice, which makes us co-creators with the process of God.''2 To follow God's law planted in our heart is to find our true identity and to know the sacredness of the liv- 67.1 2008 ing Word, as in the image of my dream. This journey of which I write is the task of our lifetimes. Notes ~ Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Salt of the Earth (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1987), p. 62. 2 E.B. Howes, Jesus' Answer to God (San Francisco: Guild for Psychological Studies Publishing House, 1984), p. 89. Longing for Easter Give us Easter, the brilliant wine of the Kingdem, the days when He might appear at any moment and we in his presence become speechless with joy, shy with wonder. Give us Easter, when we can forget (not from shame) the dark pain that went before, or see it as one sees, from the bright rooms of home, the troubled road by which one traveled back Give us Easter and spring and the words of songs we always hoped to learn Give us always Easter. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL Pedagogy of Prayer HTan persons grow only through their relation-ips to the realities that enter into their self-awareness. This is a matter of integration, of becoming more and more whole rather than more and more dis-persed. Integrated selfhood is achieved only by free commitment to a life-meaning. People actualize their personal identity by faithfully choosing all their lives to express their identity in an authentic way. ~: The total human development of persons gifted with Christian faith calls them to integrate into their growth their relationships with other persons, with themselves, with things, and especially with God. Graced confessing that Jesus is Lord is recognition that the central rela-tionship of their life is their personal relationship with God. To bring this relationship into self-awareness is to pray. I shall suggest in this article a pedagogy of prayer. I shall offer reflections on what prayer is. Then I shall make some practical remarks on how to pray. Finally John Carroll Futrell SJ has written for this journal about ten times, beginning in 1958. His address is 3601 Lindell Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63108. 67.1 2008 Futrell ¯ Pedagogy of Prayer I shall respond affirmatively to the question "Can we pray?" What Is Prayer? When we pray we meet God. Perhaps the best description of prayer is that it is a loving, personal encounter with God. C.S. Lewis remarked: "Prayer is either a sheer illusion or a personal contact between embryonic, incomplete persons (ourselves) and the utterly concrete Person." Our problem is to verify this encounter. Encounter may take many forms. Close friends can encounter each other by talking or being silent, or even when they are physically far from each other, because they are always in personal commu-nion. It takes two to make an encounter. I can reach out to you, but, unless you receive me and give yourself to me on the personal level, we can have no true encounter. When you reach out to God, God is there to receive you. This loving personal encounter is prayer. God is present, whether we "feel" that presence or not. We know this is true because God has revealed it to us. We know it because we have the gift of faith. The Holy Spirit present in us enables us to confess that Jesus is Lord. We must insist with faith on the fact of God's constant, transcendent, loving presence, even when we feel nothing but dryness. Our own coming to encounter God is the human dimension of prayer. Prayer as a human activity is mak-ing ourselves present to the presence of God within us, so that we can recognize God's presence in everyone and everything around us. Prayer requires of us the labor to get ourselves together, body, feelings, imagination, intelligence, will, desires, place, time, environment--so Review for Religious that we can truly be present to the presence of God in loving, personal encounter. Our essential praying, then, is accomplished by the will to pray even in the midst of distractions or of total dryness. If we have the sincere desire to pray, then, at the bottom of our heart, deep within us, there is a loving encounter with God, even though it is not consciously felt at the top of our head. St. Paul put it perfecdy in his Letter to the Romans: The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For, when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God, who knows everything in our hearts, knows perfectly well what the Spirit means. (Rm 8:26-28) A problem for many people attempting to verify the encounter with God which is prayer is that they begin with their own idea of good prayer, as determined by lack of distractions, no dry-ness, a continuous feeling of consolation. A false notion of prayer makes true prayer unverifiable. The problem here may be that we are seeking God for ourselves rather than for love of God. Instead of welcoming God's personal presence personally, we turn God into an 0/~ect, a thing we can acquire to fill a need. Prayer must be openness, listening, welcome. Prayer leads us from self-centered need to other-centered love. This passage from need to love is illuminated by reflection with Freud on human growth toward matu-rity as a movement from need to desire2 As infants we all begin as quivering bundles of needs. We relate to Prayer must be openness, listening, welcome. 67.1 2008 Futrell * PedagoG of Prayer all the realities that come into our awareness--espe-cially our mothers--as objects there to satisfy our needs. Need seeks self-satisfaction, the absorption of the other into myself. Freudian body imagery is revealing. Need means self-affirmation of my own bodily presence only; this annihilates all that is not myself by consuming it bodily. As long as I am operating chiefly from my need, I affirm myself only as an object, a needy body-thing, just as I affirm others only as objects to satisfy my needs. Freud shows that it is in passing from need to desire that we come to human maturity. In his terminology, when I desire another person, I affirm the reality of the other as a subject, as a free mysterious person, with inalien-able rights and always beyond adequate representation in concept or image. In desire we recognize what is not ourselves and affirm its free otherness. It is only in affirming others as persons that we realize ourselves as persons, as free subjects open to personal relationships. VChen we pass from need to desire, we can say, "It is now for the first time that I truly experience myself as a person, for it is only in your presence that I am." The poet e.e. cummings put it perfectly: "i am through you so i." When we apply this Freudian model to prayer, it is dear that in its initial stages prayer would reflect as in a mirror the emptiness of our need for God. From expe-riencing this need we shall pass gradually to the desire for God in God's infinite otherness. Even on the human level, desiring the other as unique and thus infinitely different from me is the greatest love. "I love you" becomes "You exist!" To love others is to will their pres-ence as irreducible to me. In recognizing their unique-ness, I recognize an absence in their very presence, the inalienable freedom of their otherness. Review for Religious Thus, desire--love--is not a static, finished thing. It is an ongoing living thing. Because of this fascinating and wonderful presence-in-absence, even a moment of intense personal union opens upon a new frontier, a beckoning from beyond towards deeper union. Another person remains an unfathomable secret. I cannot know this secret through thought or images or even bodily union. I can know another person only through love. In The Art of Loving (chap. 2), Erich Fromm points out: "In love, I know you, I know myself, I know every-body-- and I 'know' nothing. I know in the only way knowledge of that which is alive is possible for man--by experience of union--not by any knowledge our thought can give." The only way to full knowledge lies in the experience of love. This experience transcends thought; it transcends words. Thus, if I can have no full knowledge of God in thought, if theology is at best negative, then posi-tive knowledge of God can be achieved only in the act of union with God. In prayer we know God by lov-ing God, by welcoming God's gift to us in the loving experience of God's presence-in-absence. Prayer always remains desire, opening ever more widely toward ever fuller union, as St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cr6ss powerfully attest. Ren~ Voillaume insists that we will be less satisfied with ourselves in prayer the more closely we approach God. This lack of satisfaction is a part of prayer, a proof of unfulfilled desire, which can only grow with growth of love. Far from satisfying thirst for God, prayer increases it. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin wrote: God does not offer himself to our finite beings as a thing all complete and ready to be embraced. For us he is eternal discovery and eternal growth. 67.1 2008 Futrell * Pedagogy of Prayer The more we think we understand him, the more he reveals himself as otherwise. The more we think we hold him, the further he withdraws, drawing us into the depths of himself. The nearer we approach him through all the efforts of nature and grace, the more he increases, in one and the same movement, his attraction over our powers, and the receptivity of our powers to that divine attraction. (The Divine Milieu, pp. 119-120) As St. Thomas Aquinas put it, "by prayer we render ourselves capable of receiving." St. Gregory of Nyssa pointed out that the more we make progress, the more we discover that God infinitely transcends all that we can ever know of God. "To find God is to seek God without end." Thomas Merton noted that "progress in prayer is a continual burning of bridges behind us." Prayer, then, is faith, openness, listening, welcome, surrender. It is not through speculation or through study of theories of prayer and of love that we learn to pray and to love God, but only through the exercise of prayer and of love. We must sweep away all preconcep-tions and simply listen to God. Jesus told us in a parable what our attitude should be when we pray. We should be the good soil that nurtures the seed planted in it by the Divine Sower, accepting the word with faith. Just as we find Christ in the Eucharist under the appear-ances, so we must seek the reality of encounter with God under the words and gestures of our prayer. The soil where the word is sown is the heart, the center of our person. If we do not receive God here, our prayer is marked by boredom and routine and falsehood. We must be present to our own heart, where God is seek-ing us in spirit and in truth. All of our authentic prayer begins in our heart, in the activity of the Holy Spirit in our hearts.2 Review for Religious We have nearly two thousand years of reflection on the experience of Christian praying. The great masters of prayer always have seen as true prayer the "interior understanding and relish" that is born of the Holy Spirit's illumination of our spirit. This prayer may be very dry. Our prayer may often be quite simple: just a period of repeating the same thing to God over and over until it becomes part of us. Prayer can be a tor-ment until we are transformed into what we are say-ing. Christians who really pray have always known that "by their fruits you shall know them." The criterion of good prayer is not sensible consolation, but whether we continually live a more loving life by the power we receive even in very arid prayer. When we seem lost in our own confusion, distracted, and hardly present to God except in a prayerful word or two, there still may be in us, through the Holy Spirit's presence, a desire that we eventually experience as power, strength to serve God and our neighbor with our whole being, no matter what the cost. Thomas Merton's teaching on prayer emphasizes that the Holy Spirit is .seeking us in our hearts, where we come to ourselves. It is difficult to enter into the silence of our hearts, the place where no one else can enter, where we must put off our masks and no longer hide.3 This is where God calls us: "Give me your heart, your very self." Here we allow God to judge us, God who invites us to a full life. Here we learn to be at home We have nearly two thousand years of reflection on the experience of Christian praying. 67.1 2008 Futrell ¯ Pedagogy of Prayer with God, beyond our emotions and our intellectual life. We learn to overcome our fear of what is there and our temptation to go back to what is familiar. God is at home where we are truly ourselves. Merton put it, "Prayer does not consist in an effort to get across to God, but in opening our eyes to see that we are already there." The good that we seek through prayer is not the self-satisfaction of a "successful" prayer according to our own idea, but the formation of an attitude of total surrender to God in every detail of our daily life. This good God gives, through the more or less active coop-eration of our effort to pray. This is the pearl of great God is always calling us, speaking to us in all the events of our daily lives. price always to be sought in prayer. It is this which transforms us in Christ and prepares us always to say yes to the Word of God calling us at every moment of our lives. Brother David wrote, "Only life lived to the full measures up to the task of contemplation" (Gratefulness, p. 64). A life of ongoing prayer will draw us deeper and deeper into the presence of God, until we shall experience it in situations that do not immediately suggest God's presence. Then we are praying always, even though our conscious attention is elsewhere. This is what the masters of prayer mean by finding God in all things. God is always calling us, speaking to us in all the events of our daily lives. God comes to us in every situation we face: in our work, in our play, in the people we meet, in all our duties. All of these serve as invitations to welcome God here and Review for Religious now, to let God challenge us to live our Christian life perfectly. If we understand prayer this way, there are never places where prayer is impossible. Perhaps we need to change our way of understanding prayer. Louis Evely has said, "We're not asked to choose between God and world, but to discover God in the world and reveal God to it." It has been well said that there are no part-time human beings or part-time Christians Or part-time con-templatives. When we confess that Jesus is Lord, no sin-gle moment of our lives is outside this relationship.4 We can live prayer at all times, whether formally praying or not. What are we really seeking at all times during our life? What is our basic operational orienta-tion? What is our heart's treasure? This may be other people, egoism, money, pleasure, popular success, or it may be God. Whatever it is, it pervades all our actions, rules our individual choices and our spontaneous actions and reactions, constructs our world, without our being conscious of it all the time. If my basic existential ori-entation is to God, I am praying always, always having a loving personal encounter with God. Thomas Merton summed it up perfectly: "If I find God I will find myself, and if I find my true self I will find God. And the only one who can teach me to find God is God's self. So pray for your own discovery." How to Pray Since prayer is a loving personal encounter with our forever faithful God, our human effort during any period of our life must always be to make ourselves present to God: to enter into our own faith experience of the Spirit of the risen Jesus at the bottom of our heart, where God touches our life. This is the meaning 67.1 2008 Fuvrell ¯ Pedagog~ of Prayer of all human prayer, whatever the method or style. The criterion for judging which method or style to use is simple: "Does it work?" Does this method at this time bring us into God's presence? Is it enabling us to live a life of love for God, other people, and myself?. A particular method of prayer may meet this crite-rion for years. But normally there will be times when a method is no longer right for us. Then we must experi-ment with various methods. We must be open to all pos-sibilities: God can use anything as a way to encounter us. Our part is to discover a way of finding God now. It may be a hope-filled darkness in which we wait willingly for subde energies of faith and love to return. The best prayer for me now may be meditation on the revealed truths of faith. People sometimes reject this method as "talking to myself." Well, why not talk to ourselves if God, who can make use of anything, is there and listening attentively? At times the best prayer may be lectio divina: slow thoughtful reading of Scripture or of other spiritual writings, stopping sometimes where we experience some heartfelt understanding. God works with us incarnationally, and so the method of prayer that works usually fits our temperament and cultural climate. Some older persons may be drawn to slow recitation of the rosary or to reading set prayers reflectively. The method for other persons_ may be singing or playing a guitar or adopting various body positions. The criterion always is "What works?" The great contemporary master of prayer Brother David Steindl-Rast OSB proposes two excellent ques-tions for evaluating our current method of prayer: (1) Is my prayer truly an expression of my prayerfulness, gratefulness, sorrow, compassion, and so forth? and (2) Does my prayer make me more prayerful? Review for Religious Two millennia of Christian experience show that it is fairly normal for people to be led gradually from more active methods of prayer to quieter, more passive methods. The way of praying may become simply enter-ing into a deeply felt attitude and resting in it: being thanks, being open, being praise, being begging when we feel our radical poverty deeply. In this prayer, when we become aware of our mind or imagination running off in various directions, we simply let those distractions fall as we keep coming back to our deep attitude of being. The Psalms fit this form of prayer because they express deeply felt attitudes, often in just a line or half line. Just a few verses of a psalm may help for days or even weeks. For persons who are feeling far from God and overwhelmed with cares and anxieties, the first few lines of Psalm 40 can be of great help: I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the desolate pit, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Stop at words or phrases. Let them sink in, and let your own thoughts rise. Stay there until you feel that the Holy Spirit is leading you to the next word or phrase. Another important form of. prayer to learn, consider-ing our tendency to rush on, is repetition: coming back to interior movements we experienced during previous periods of prayer and letting the Spirit deepen these movements and draw us closer to God and away from what holds us back. There are times when we should simply "plough the rock until it bear." 41 67.1 2008 Futrell * Pedagogy of Prayer In Christian prayer there is no method more central than contemplation of t, he life of Jesus in the Gospels. In Christian prayer there is no method more central than contemplation of the life of Jesus in the Gospels. This contemplation can take many forms and range from fairly discursive reflection to simple presence to Jesus in a scene. The proof that our method of contem-plation of Jesus is right for us right now is the experi-ence of being more and more transformed into him in our daily living with and love of other people. We must be ready to recognize when the prayer to which God calls us now is simply to enter into the void and wait in darkness for God. We realize that for us at present God is nowhere else than in this purifying empti-ness. A Jesuit friend of mine once told me that the only way he had been able to pray for weeks was to stand holding his arms up in supplica-tion. There were no thoughts, no images, not even a deeply felt attitude-- nothing. Yet he knew that this body prayer of emptiness was what God wanted of him then, beyond any thought or feelings. Even in desolation we are called to pray by "remembering consolation." W-hen darkness overcomes us, our prayer must be a faith that remembers what we saw, felt, hoped, and loved when we were filled with light. It can be helpful to think about prayer as a place. Sometimes it is a garden, beautiful, full of flowers, sweet scents, and birds singing and fountains play-ing. Sometimes it is a mountaintop, where we would Review for Religious like to pitch a tent and stay. Sometimes it is a desert. Sometimes it is a "blah" place, where all we can say is "God, here I am in my blahness." Sometimes it is a rock that we cling to with bloodied hands. And sometimes it is an empty tomb. For me, sometimes, it is a boat, when I feel as exhausted as Jesus was when his disciples woke him to calm the storm. Then all I can say, before falling asleep, is "Jesus, I'm with you!" A friend of mine, a sister, returning very blue and worn from a day of apostolic work, composed a beauti-ful prayer out of this feeling of prayer as a place: Dear God, tonight I'm tired and discouraged. I want to just give up and walk away. I'm in the basement and I want to go to the attic. In the basement, I'm lonely. In the attic, I'm alone, all one. In the basement, I crouch in the dark damp coal bin and dig up bones from the past. In the attic, I quiedy open the trunk lid and think about the treasures of the past - some painful, some joyful - but treasures nonetheless. Rain in the basement beats me to the cold hard concrete and I feel suffocated. Rain in the attic has a restful pitter-patter, pitter-patter, as it softly sings, "I love you, I love you, I love you." In the basement, I'm closed off. The windows are darkened and covered with weeds. I cannot see the sun when it does shine forth. In the attic, there is no way to keep out the warm sun of your love as it shines through the leaves on the trees. It makes delightful patterns for my enjoyment. And so, dear God, I ask you to take me from the basement to the attic. I ask for aloneness, I ask for treasures, I ask for soft soothing rain 67.1 2008 Futrell ¯ Pedagogy of Prayer and warm loving sunshine. I ask to feel your love. I do believe., help my lack of belief. Prayer Flows out of Life Situations Whatever method of prayer we use, as body-per-sons in space and time, we must seek to compose our-selves interiorly and, if possible, to choose a place that will help us to be present to the presence of God. We know that our body conditions the state of our con-sciousness. And so it is vital to take the time, perhaps a long time, to compose ourselves before praying: to enter into a deep silence of the body and imagination and feelings. Methods like the Additional Observations in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola (§§73-86) or the preparations in the old meditation books or yoga or transcendental meditation or Zen or Sadhana can be helpful. The great 19th-century master of prayer Theophane the Recluse described prayer truly as "stand-ing before God with the mind in.the heart." If we are to pray, we must commit ourselves to make time for it: time to calm ourselves down, time to allow God to rise up in our awareness, to become God for us. We must discern the rhythm of prayer that we need at this time in our lives, and we must be faithful to it even when we do not feel like praying. We know that our most essential duties are not always those that we feel like doing. Nevertheless, we do fulfill them because of the importance they have for us, their priority in our lives. The operational proof of what our priorities are is the quality time that we give to them, not what we may verbally affirm about their importance. Time is the most precious possession of human beings, and what we do Review for Religious with our time is the behavioral proof of what we value in our lives. If we really put a high priority on prayer, we regularly give quality time to it. As in human love, there can and should be steadfastness even when we feel dull and lack spontaneity. And, of course, both love and prayer seek imaginative ways to transform routine and revivify themselves. Can We Pray? If we exercise our faith and our creativity and our common sense, we can pray. We can bring ourselves and take time and wait to encounter God. We can look to see whether our hearts have left space for God to come and meet us. For two thousand years the purpose of Christian asceticism has been to make space in our hearts for God to encounter us there. The difficulty of prayer is that it is the entrance into the bottom of our hearts. It places us before the wall of grace and the invisible. This involves going out of our selfish self, which makes prayer so diffi-cult. It is a true purgatory--a purification. This difficulty is overcome only by the Holy Spirit. To consent to pray is to consent to place ourselves before this wall and to wait with faith and hope for God to lower the wall. The lowering of the wall is the progressive coming of God to our deep self. Here only God can overcome. To believe that we have solved the problem ourselves is to show that we have lost the batde. Here, truly, we gain our life only by losing it. Our prayer should lead us to the still point of our being, the root of our existence, the center of our awareness of our unique individuality, where we are touched by the divine creative act and where, in silence and in darkness, we understand that God is God. At this point of our dependence upon God, we find God 67.1 2008 Futrell ¯ Pedagogy of Prayer in a presence that is absence, in an emptiness that is filled with God, in the knowing that is not knowledge but love. This, I think, is the command of God to the psalmist: "Empty yourself out and see that I am God." Descend to the depths of your own being, to the very point where you spring up out of my creative love, and there you will find me. Here God's presence is felt as breaking in on us, breaking down the wall of selfish self-love that limits our encounter with God. We see that this same wall keeps us from truly loving others as Jesus commands us to do, and that it keeps us from hearing and respond-ing to God's word in all the events of our lives. In this prayer we become filled with the light of the Spirit of the risen Jesus, who will illuminate all our experiences and will bring us at last to find God in all things. Often in this prayer we encounter God in his breaking in on us, and we feel no need or inclination to speak, because everything is understood in love. We simply surrender to God in his transforming action on us. But this is not a prayer of inaction. At no time do we feel more fully alive. For some people this is the habitual form of prayer. For others it happens only rarely. In all our prayer we should be listening to God, ready to welcome him, as God sometimes welcomes us, in a moment of great clarity or great joy.5 Notes i For this insight I am indebted to Jesuit psychoanalyst Dr. Denis Vasse, of Lyons, France. 2 "To cqntemplate means raising our eyes to a higher order that challenges us to measure up . Only the heart is high and deep enough to hold this vision." Brother David Steindl-Rast OSB, Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. 64. 3 "The heart in biblical culture, and also in a large part of other cul- Review for Religious tures, is that essential center of personality in which the person stands before God, as the totality of body and soul, as T who is thinking, will-ing, and loving, as the center in which the memory of the past opens up to planning of the future . The significance [of] the heart., reaches the sanctuary of personal self-awareness in which is summarized and condensed the concrete essence of the person, the center in which the individual decides upon himself, in face of others, the world, and God himself." John Paul II, Audience at the Gemelli Clinic, 28 June 1984. 4 "Work should not make us stop praying. But when my work becomes my only prayer, it won't be prayer much longer. Its weight will pull me off center. We can hear it quickly when a clothes dryer spins unevenly. Why can't we hear it when our lives do the same? It may be time to stop and reload. It may be time for nothing but prayer, time to disengage ourselves, to find our center, and to re-engage ourselves from the heart. Then our work will truly be prayer, It will be contemplation in action." Steindl-Rast, Gratefulness, p. 195. 5 Listen to C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces, near the end (p. 307): "He is coming . The air was growing brighter and brighter., as if something had set it on fire. Each breath I drew let into me new terror, joy, overpowering sweetness. I was pierced through and through with the arrows of it. I was being unmade. I was no one . The earth and stars and sun, all that was or will be, existed for his sake. And he was coming. The most dreadful, the most beautiful, the only dread and beauty there is, was coming . I cast down my eyes." Personal/Group Reflection Questions 1. Have I had the experience of trying to teach someone to pray? What did I find to be helpful in teaching someone to pray? What obstacles did I experience? 2. What is my favorite way of defining or describing Christian prayer? 3. How do I respond to Brother David Steindl-Rast's question, "Does my prayer make me more prayerful?" 67.1 2008 BRENDAN KNEALE Pray Passionately of we look at Roman liturgical practice as a form f prayer, it does not seem to encourage pray-ing passionately. Of course, there is a good reason for this--the litur~.¢ is a public, not a private, form of prayer. It expects us to bring to its formalities and rituals a preparation of intense personal prayer. Some devout Catholics, perhaps, find rich emotional con-tent in Gregorian chant if they bring to it a suitable background. Also, the Roman Liturgy does include an extensive use of the Psalms, which are full of passion-ate prayers that any of us can find to be deeply mov-ing. Consider such passages as these used in the official Liturgy of the Hours: Cry out with joy to the Lord, all the earth . . . For you my soul is thirsting--my body pines for you . . . My soul shall be filled as with a banquet., my soul clings to you . . . Brendan Kneale FSC, a retired professor from Saint Mary's College of California, is now on the staff of De La Salle Institute; 4403 Redwood Road; Napa, California 94558. His email address is bkneale@dlsi.org Review for Religious Let the faithful rejoice in their glory, shout for joy., let them praise his name with dancing. Tremble, 0 earth, before the Lord . I bow down before your temple, filled with awe. The Lord's voice flashes flames of fire. He sends fire and brimstone on the wicked. No one can escape his hand. Praise him with full voice . Ring out your joy to the Lord. There are dozens of passages like these. The Liturgy cites, also, some of the strong language of St. Paul, who certainly expressed himself with passion. We have intimations of how emotional and intense Christ's own prayer was, notably in the garden and on the cross, culminating in: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Likewise, when he declared that he came to "cast fire on the earth." He no doubt was reflecting the strong feelings of his previous prayer. At Pentecost the Holy Spirit communicated himself with the symbolic "sound of wind and tongues of fire." This ought to stir our emotion, as when we sometimes refer to "fire in the belly." It did so, surely, for canonized saints, many of them known for the intensity of their prayer life. Here, however, it seems fair to ask, "Where is the passion in the wording of the Our Father, the arche-typal prayer Christ left us?" Answer: It is certainly there for people who have no "daily bread," and for those of us acutely aware of our need for a. ~'supersubstantial bread." Similarly, if we are full of-faith and devout sen-sibilities, we will experience a yearning, in the words of the Our Father, for "forgiveness of sins" and a fear of being "led into temptation," and for a strong desire to be "delivered from evil." The same goes for other seem-ingly bland prayers of our tradition. If we but bring our 67.1 2008 Kneale ¯ Pray Passionately true situation to such prayers, they will become quite passionate. In older terminology, it is with "fervor" that we should pray. Later Traditions Many modern religious orders have a community spirituality which translates into language that seems at best to be sentimental rather than passionate. An example can be found in English translations of 17th-century texts on prayer. When one of its masters, St. John Baptist de la Salle, wrote "The Method of Mental Prayer," his language in translation was made to sound pallid. Thus, in English versions, we find him frequently urging us to pray with "sentiments of faith." It does not seem adequate to translate the French sentiment into a mild, neutral, and comfortable English word like "senti-ment." In fact, bilingual dictionaries would have allowed translators to use much stronger alternatives. The question arises: How does one bring passion to prayer? Soldiers in any kind of combat do not have to ask that question. Neither do we--if we let ourselves realize how abruptly death may come for us, if we really think about the greatness and goodness of God, if we realize our guilt, if we are at all sensitive to our inner longings, if our mortality weighs down on us as it should, if we are sensitive to our capacity for the infinite, if we admit a yearning for communion with the saints, if we feel deeply the needs of those for whom we pray, if we are persons of genuine loyalty, if we are aware of our past ingratitude and our utter vulnerability. In other words, as the masters of prayer have always taught, we must prepare for our prayer by realizing how desperate our condition and situation is, how great and good God is, how important prayer is, how linked we Review for Religious are to our fellow human beings. Many such deep con-victions are acts of faith and stem from insights aris-ing- out- of experience, meditation, and study--and, of course, from grace. "The Holy Spirit prays in us." We become a version of "deep calling on deep." After the effect of "cool" literature on prayer, one suspects that the rise of devotion to the Sacred Heart and other devo-tions helped compensate for prayer's lack of warmth, and even coldness, in this world of ours. It is evident that passion invigorates prayer, but also the converse holds. Prayer can stir spiritual pas-sion, which then often takes the form of zeal for various charitable works and also for personal discipline. Unfortunately, sen-timent and shallow many of us, since genuine emotion depends on deep convictions and full realizations about serious things. Where do deep feeling, passion, and genuine love come from? The source is true faith, real conviction, theological insights, realizations stemming from deep meditation--that is, things deep in the mind. There is always, however, a danger of self-deception and of artifi-cially stirred-up shallow feelings, ephemeral sentiments. St. La Salle, mentioned earlier, was a man of feeling. He lived in times when emotions were intense over serious internal church struggles. And he had his own battles with civil authorities and with incomprehension by his contemporaries, clerical and lay, so that his own prayer was challenged at a deeper level than most of us and thus felt more keenly. Where do deep feeling, passion, and genuine love come from? feelings may have to suffice for 67.1 2008 Kneale ¯ Pra~ Pa~ionatel~ Where, for us, do the occasion and quality for pas-sionate prayer come from? They arise from experi-ences eliciting fear, gratitude, desperation . . . feelings which call forth our faith and convictions. At the start of our interior prayer, we often include an introduc-tory exercise: making our situation "real," recalling viv-idly, stirring our faith and hope, gratitude and humility, awakening ourselves from somnolence. Frequently Repeated Prayers Prayers that are frequently repeated should not be perfunctory, but should be recited "once more with feel-ing." There is a danger that prayers like the rosary could plunge us into mindless rote. That is where the ancient admonitions about study and reading can be applied. Prayers like the ~'osary will be infused with emotion if we bring to them a rich background of gospel meditation and theological study. Thus in the rosary such insights may prepare as many as ten ideas or rousing images to accompany our recitation of the ten beads in each decade. Every one of us can become a "vas insigne devotionis," rich in insights that stir our emotions and direct our will. The rosary, then, can be prayed passionately. Of course, to recite vocal prayers poorly is often an act of faith and so has value. St. Thomas Aquinas is supposed to have written somewhere that one differ-ence between rote vocal prayers of petition and atten-tive and involving prayers of petition is not that one is answered and the other is not--rather, if both are prayed with faith and goodwill, one is more consoling than the other. That is one difference. There are oth-ers. A prayer that is passionate is likely to be extended, sincere, satisfying, richer in intention, fortifying of our faith and hope., instead of a routine burden. Review for Religious Dryness There is no such thing in this life as a perpetual emotional high. One experience that the saints have often undergone is spiritual dryness. Sometimes, it seems, such periods are imposed by God as trials, but could it be that sometimes they are self-imposed by our own neglect? If we fail to use the sources of inspiration and energy--such as attention, study, sensitivity, insight, consistency, solitude, detachment--then we can expect aridity. The Language of Prayer Perhaps, looking back at the word "sentiment" and recalling the passionate words of the Psalms, we can say that the language used in prayer is important. Paying attention to the stirring words of the Psalms can bring life back into our prayer. Depending on the occasion, .however, vocalized prayer should vary appropriately: ritualistic or hiero-phantic, informal or personal, intense or calm and reflective, importunate or resigned--adoring, grateful, repetitive, vivid, meditative. We do not want to over-dramatize our lives, but one suspects that prayers of petition, at least, do need heartfelt words--the more passionate the better. In any case we have the promise of St. Paul in Romans 8: "When we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words ¯ . . the pleas of the saints expressed by the Spirit are according to the mind of God." 67.1 2008 CLIFFORD STEVENS The Institute of Impracticalities: The Financial Support of Monasteries consecrated life G.K. Chesterton, before he created the Father Brown detective stories, tried his hand at the genre by writing a clever story called "The Club of Queer Trades," a tale of a fraternity of tradesmen who had managed to come up with unusual ways to make a living. In it a man makes his living giving excitement to people who lacked excitement in their lives and adven-ture to those who lacked adventure. He would send them sinister and intriguing messages, or leave strange objects on their doorstep, or send them secret packages, all designed to add some spice to an otherwise humdrum existence. I thought at one time if I had not become a priest I would set up a place called Chesterton Square with a number of odd shops and busi-nesses doing business there: a Bottle Shop, a Kite Unlimited Emporium, and imposingly on Clifford Stevens has written for us at intervals since 1975. His addres~ is Tintern Monastery; EO. Box 910; Kemmerer, Wyoming 83101. Review for Religious one corner of the square an Institute of Impracticalities, which would answer any need that was totally and clearly not practical, such as ordering an elephant for a wedding, or sending a truckload of balloons to a sick child. A monastery is and must be, if it is to be true to its character, a true Institute of Impracticalities. We exist for no "practical" purpose; we are useless, as far as most people are concerned, and there is nothing "practical" that we can mention as our particular achievement. We have to cultivate "unpracticality" almost with genius, or else that particular disease, fatal in some cases, called "practicality" takes over and everything is sacrificed on the altar of "practicality." This has been the bane of monasteries from time immemorial and has been responsible for the eclipse of the monastic life sev-eral times in history. I am thinking particularly of the monastery of Fountains in England, where "practicality" drove peasants off the land, made the monastery some-thing of an economic empire, built sumptuous build-ings, and got the monastery involved in the dynastic and ecclesiastical power struggles of the time. The greatest illusion in the contemplative life is the conviction that the financial support of the monastery is the key problem and the critical concern of community life. This has never been. true. The critical factor in con-templative life is the cultivation of intimacy with God and the fashioning of a pattern of life to enable every single member to do exactly that. As soon as the mere support of the monastery becomes the primary con-cern, "practicality" takes over and Divine Providence goes right out the windows. God blesses the monastery only to the extent that it is an oasis for leisure with God. Then blessings for the support of the life come 67.1 2008 Stevens ¯ The Institute of lmpracticalities in abundance, mysteriously, magnanimously, for God takes care of his genuine lovers, and they are never in want--for anything. The basic principle for the financial support of a monastery is this: Will the God for whom we have forsaken the world of business and commerce and the piling up of even legitimate wealth be any less gener-ous with us than the stock market and margin of profit would have been if we had devoted our lives to that? There is one answer: God will not only second our efforts by the action of his prov-idence; he will anticipate our needs. Those who doubt this usually are willing to sacrifice something of solitude, something of silence, something of contemplative tranquillity, and something of intimacy with God for so-called "practical" reasons. God usually gives them what they want, but that is all. The deeper gift for which they have forsaken all is denied them, for the simple reason that they have lost the hunger for it. A strange kind of practicality. The ancient monks made it clear that the treasurer of the monastery was the Providence of God. This does not mean that they did not work or made no provision for the morrow. It just means that they were not depen-dent upon their own efforts: even their own efforts had to be blessed by God. They simply did .not depend on bank accounts or huge commercial enterprises to sup-port their monastic life. God's providence, and their own efforts under that providence, were their only security. This is certainly "impractical" as far as the normal business of human life is concerned, but the monk is not in the normal business of living. He has made God his companion and his passion, and, while he works hard Review for Relig4ous to support his monastic life, he is not dependent upon the "economy." Monks work hard, but simply are not concerned about where their money will come from. It comes, when it is needed, from their own labor or from the action of Providence. As a matter of fact, the monk has become a monk to be free from those kinds of concerns, and, if he wants to get involved in them, God usually lets him have his way, but the intimacy with God that is - the heart of his existence and his chief preoccupation slips from his fingers. His hope and expectation are not really in God, but in the margin of profit, in the interest on stocks and bonds, or in the sale of the next crop. The treasury of Divine Providence never runs out, and God richly supplies his lovers with everything. Those who doubt that have all kinds of arguments to the con-trary, but what they do not have is that closeness to him for which they became monks in the first place. In this day of huge commercial enterprises, financial scandals in religion, and the juggling of stock portfolios and investment opportunities, we have to steer clear of anything that resembles the placing of our security in money. Every monastery needs money, and the financial support of the monastery has to be provided for. But the financial support of a monastery comes from God and his providence and not from the juggling of investments and the margin of profit. When a monastery truly needs money, it comes in bundles, from the most unexpected Monks work hard, but simply are not concerned about where their moneywill come from. 67.1 2008 Stevens ¯ The Institute of lmpracticalities places, and there is no need to buy mailing lists and carry on massive mail solicitations to accomplish this. If there is any choice between depending on a fat bank account and depending on Divine Providence, there is no doubt where the choice would have to be. Certainly not in the bank account, which can fail for all kinds of reasons, but Divine Providence never fails. We have only to look around us to see the disas-ters that occur from an opposite conviction. The clas-sical image is that of the wheeling-and-dealing Father Urban in J.E Powers's Morte d'Urban, who is convinced that hobnobbing with the rich and mighty is the sur-est way to. ensure the prosperity of his congregation. Or the tragic monsignor in John Gregory Dunne's True Confessions who found himself embroiled in scandals and political intrigues unworthy of his office because of his concern about money for the "good of the church." As Paul Evdokimov hasindicated, certain biblical truths get lost in centuries of overgrowth, and from time to time we have to be recalled to the startling dyna-mism of the gospel. It is no visionary enthusiasm that brings religious to their utter dependence upon Divine Providence and reminds them of God's loving care. But they forget that, as redeemed human beings, they are enfolded in his love, and that his benevolence is the very basis of their creation. What they need to recall is a profound metaphysical and theological truth: everything in human life is part of the philanthropy of God, and it is by the exercise of that philanthropy that the inacces-sible God makes himself accessible to our experience. From the generosity of the Godhead comes every gift with which we are endowed and every benefit of our human condition. That includes the margin of profit and whatever benefit we gain from economic prosperity. Review for Religious Even those who do not depend upon Divine Providence are dependent upon it. It is simply human shortsighted-ness that does not see the beneficent God behind the human drama. The wisdom of the saints ends up being the most practical of impracticalities. Some Texts "In building, we need not act as people in the world do. They first get the money and then begin to build, but we must do iust the opposite. We will begin to build and then expect to receive what is necessary. The Lord God will not be outdone in generosity." -- St. Alphonsus Liguori "The more you abandon to God the care of tem-poral things, the more he will take care to provide for all your needs; but if, on the contrary, you try to supply all your own needs, Providence will allow you to con-tinue to do just that, and then it may well hhppen that even the necessities will be lacking, God thus reproving you for want of faith and reliance on him." -- St. John Baptist de La Salle "Now is God not able to send, perhaps tomorrow, sacks of money to my door?" -- St. Camillus de Lellis And see Paul Evdokimov, The Sacrament of Love (Crestwood, N.Y.: St. Vladimir Seminary Press, 1985). 67.1 2008 M. REGINA VAN DEN BERG Enclosure and Other Ways to Widen One's Horizons Tfte practice and rule of enclosure in the convent is en misunderstood, by those who oppose it and those who defend it. It is misunderstood as a way of keeping the world and its evils out, of limiting contact with the world. Enclosure actually succeeds in doing quite the opposite: it enlarges the world. Rather than keeping the world out, it confronts us with it. Rather than keeping evil out, it forces us to face it. Rather than limiting our world, it expands our horizons. It is not only enclosure that expands our horizons: other prac-tices of the religious life do so too. The other practices include common meals, prayers, and recreation, limited use of television, internet, telephone, and email, and also limited travels and visitors as well. The reader may think I am playing with words, for it seems paradoxical at best that all the above-men- M. Regina van den Berg FSGM taught philosophy at Seminary Rolduc in Roermond, the Netherlands. She recently moved to Mater Ecclesiae Convent; 4510 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious tioned practices serve to widen our horizons. It is" not my intention, however, to play with words, but rather to point out a common mistaken notion that "experiencing the world" and "widening one's horizons" are incom-patible with enclosure and other such practices. In his essay "On Certain Modern Writers and the Institution of the Family," in Heretics, G.K. Chesterton makes the essential distinctions upon which I base this article.1 Chesterton uses the distinction to defend the institu-tion of the family; I apply it to the religious life. When people say that they want to "experience the world" or "widen their horizons," they commonly mean that they want to increase their knowledge of the world and the things in it. They want to do this by learning or by experiencing, virtually or firsthand. It is nearly super-fluous to point out that modern technology enables us to learn and experience all manner of things with the greatest ease and speed. We can experience the world in so many ways: by traveling, by looking at internet sites, by watching television, by communicating via the internet with people we have never met face-to-face, by joining clubs. It is obvious that enclosure and the other religious-life practices I mentioned allow at best a limited experience of the world in this sense. These various experiences of the world, however, have some common elements. For one, the knowledge we gain and the experiences we have often do not affect us as persons. They do not make demands on us as per-sons. We, after all, select the experience we want to have: the persons we want to be with, the places we want to go. We choose people who are agreeable to us, and when we travel we want to relax, not be challenged. Perhaps we look on the internet or watch television to learn, but often just to be entertained. However inter- 67.1 2008 van den Berg, * Enclosure and Other Ways to Widen One's Horizons However interesting the people we meet on journeys or through the internet, they may ieave our inner world untouchedl esting the people we meet on journeys or through the internet, they may leave our inner world untouched. They do not make us grow in Christian self-knowl-edge. When people truly want a life-changing event, Chesterton says, they could effect "a much more roman-tic and even melo-dramatic change if [they] jumped over the wall into the neighbor's garden. The con-sequences would be bracing.''2 We go on vacations or browse the inter-net because we Want a "change," because we want to escape from the everyday, but escapes may blind us to the here and now. The internet provides a fine example. How easily we become so immersed in it that we lose all sense of time, of the people around us, of duties awaiting us. Analogies limp, but this experience is like taking a photograph. To get as much as possible in the picture, we not only use a wide-angle lens, but we also back up. We become observers. Everything becomes small, and details disappear. There is a lot in thepicture, but we see very little. We do the same when we try to know and experience endlessly new things. Enclosure and the other religious-life practices zoom in, so to speak, on a select portion of the world. This new focus enables us to look more closely at the objects in the picture. We do not step back as observers to take the picture, but we get a vivid three-dimensional picture of a select part of the world by being a part of it ourselves. In a Review for Religious limited environment we begin to see in a different way. Confronted by the reality of the here and now, we begin to see details. We notice more of what is there to be seen. With enclosure and the other religious practices, we find ourselves in a special environment with companions we did not choose. They become real sisters of mine, and I cannot merely observe or ignore them; I must live with them. They are not all like me, even if we share a common vision. Some are of a different temperament than I am; I am irritated by some of their peculiarities. Enclosure makes me live with them, and in learning to love them I am enlarging my world. Once we are at home in our limited environment, the reality that is present to us, it encourages us to notice many details: the sunshine on my face as I sit here, the spider crawling up the wall, the sister next door coughing. Then we can respond to the details: to be grateful for the sunshine, to marvel at the spider, to see if my coughing sister may need something. The present reveals itself as fascinating once we see it from up close. Enclosure does not keep the evil things of the world out. Quite the contrary: in the wideness of the enclo-sure, evil has plenty of room to raise its head. I suspect I am not the only one who thought that my congrega-tion should be grateful that I was deigning to enter the community. Being so used to the company of people of like character and inclination, I had no idea that I could be anything but kind--until I was confronted with sisters who were quite unlike me. Then I began to become humbly grateful that the congregation accepted even someone like me. Those who think that enclo-sure somehow forms and preserves a comfortable space 67.1 2008 van den Berg ¯ Enclosure and Other Ways to W'uten One's Horizons where like-minded people can indulge their whim for a lifetime of silence have never lived in a religious com-munity. Enclosure is demanding. Enclosure has no intention of satisfying selfish desires for privacy, for a place where we can escape from the world. It is rather the case that we impose enclosure upon ourselves because we know our human weakness. Knowing that we sometimes would like to escape from the demands of the enclosed world, we bind ourselves to it as self-protection for our weak moments. There is a sense, of course, in which enclosure creates a certain "place apart," but not in the sense of privacy. Privacy in the sense of "my space" would not be compatible with the vows and total surrender of religious life. But the silent place apart is intended to widen horizons, to attune us to the reality of God's presence. As an aid to communion with him, enclosure widens our horizons beyond our imagining--into the wideness of his eternal being! If readers have agreed with everything so far, they may still maintain that enclosure, even if it opens the door to the world, still seems a terribly boring enter-prise. Imagine a life without travel, without television, without internet, without a change of companions. Is this not a recipe for boredom? At least, the reader may surmise, the apostolic religious still have the excitement of the apostolate, the possibility of being transferred, but the contemplative nuns must even forgo that. Add to enclosure the regular routine of the religious life, and the recipe for a dull life seems foolproof. But here, too, Chesterton makes an excellent point. People travel far and wide in search of adventure, but when they do so they by definition fail. They fail because "adventure" refers to something that happens to us (peradventure, Review for Religious by chance), not to something that we attain or that we can find. When we plan a vacation, we know what to expect and plan it often to the smallest detail. But in everyday life in enclosure, one never knows what to expect--here is adventure! And, to quote Chesterton once more, "the thing which keeps life romantic and full of fiery possibilities is the existence of these great plain limitations which force all of us to meet the things we do not like or do not expect.''3 Not only are there two divergent ways of experienc-ing the world, but, I maintain, one is better and truer than the other. The first way of widening our horizon often fails to touch and change us as persons. It tends to make us observers of life, not participants; we avoid the challenges that help us grow. It can more accurately be described as an escape from the world. The truer way to experience the world, the way of enclosure, widens our horizons and opens us up to the drama of good and evil, to the graces of the present moment. This reality is demanding and life-changing. Enclosure, the common life, a~d the limited use of media and communication all serve to reveal and enlarge our world--but not by logical necessity. People can enlarge their world through travels and narrow their world in the enclosure, but those are the exceptions rather than the rule. Those who run into the enclosure to escape from the world discover all too soon that they have run in the wrong direction. Their escape from the world is to be found elsewhere: in the often world-nar-rowing experiences of the media and in other self-selected experiences that do not demand much from us. It is not surprising that the practice of enclosure is paradoxical, that by limiting physical space and limiting our experiences we in fact enlarge our experience. The 67.1 2008 van den Berg * Enclosure and Otber Ways to V~ulen One's Horizons Christian faith is founded on paradox. Through Jesus' death we receive life. Through the seemingly world-nar-rowing experience of the enclosure and other religious practices, the horizons of our hearts and minds can be expanded to God and to his concerns and to his world. And that, precisely, is the point of enclosure. The Weaver Weave the threads. Brown for the earth, Red for the fire, Blue for the air, Silver for the water. Weave the threads. Brown for humus, Red for passion, Blue for reason, Silver for the spirit. Weave the threads. Brown the Father, Red for His Son, Blue His Mother, Silver the Comforter. Weave the threads. Fibre of God. Fibre of men. Fibre of life. Weave into harmony, One in the Cosmic dance. Sister Margaret Anne OHP Review for Reli~ous ANTHONY MALAVIARATCHI Religious Brotherhood Today I n attempting to say what it means to be a religious rother today, we must be clear about what broth-erhood is. To discover afresh the most effective way of being a religious brother today, we must look at the tradition of brotherhood in the church. The brotherhood of Jesus and his ordinary follow-ers (Mt 23:8) and the brotherhood of Jesus and his spe-cially chosen disciples, the apostles (Mk 3:13-15), are already two strands of brotherhood at the very outset. Both were meant for the proclamation of the kingdom of God. The brotherhood of the first Christian com-munity in Jerusalem was~ meant to give witness to Jesus' resurrection. The brotherhood of religious life started with cenobitical life. The lone hermits became com-munities of brothers receiving spiritual guidance from abbas (fathers, animators). This kind of brotherhood Anthony Malaviaratchi CSSR, a former theology professor and for-mator now doing retreat work, presented this paper at a brothers' convention in Sri Lanka. His address is Santa Maria; George E. Silva Ma~atha; Kandy, Sri Lanka. anthonymalavi@yahoo.com 67.1 2008 Malaviaratcbi ¯ Religlou~ Brotherhood Today was making a united and concerted effort to live the gospel radically. Brotherhood in History In the period that followed, brotherhood began a new phase. Penitents entered "monasteries" and gradu-ally became members or at least began to live the life of the community. There seems to be no historical connection between th~se "penitent brothers" and-the stream of brothers popularly known as "teaching broth-ers." In the 17th century St. John Baptist de la Salle brought together a group of teachers to educate the badly neglected children of poor working-class families. So did St. Marcellin Champagnat in. the 19th century. Disillusioned by the growing secularism in French soci-ety and its impact on youth, the founder of the Marist brothers established schools for the underprivileged. The Brothers of Charity came together to care for poor workmen, the sick, and the mentally handicapped. Brotherhood: A Prophetic Lifestyle Teaching the poor and marginalized is not an exci~- ing apostolate today. It does not hit the headlines of even Catholic newspapers. That is because so many religious congregations have been doing it for three hundred years. At their origin the education of the underprivileged was simply not being taken care of by anybody. When Edmund Rice, founder of the Christian Brothers, began his teaching, the education of Catholics was illegal in Ireland. Religious life as a prophetic move-ment was reincarnated through works of mercy. The brothers, influenced by St. Vincent de Paul's Daughters of Charity, did what the society of the time failed or refused to do. They brought a strange but nevertheless Review for Religious refreshing message that drew the attention of the world as Mother Teresa did in our times. That was the secret of their success. Congregations of brothers, therefore, need to ask: How can we be prophetic today? What must we do to convey God's message afresh? What is it that society refuses to do today and would convey a prophetic mes-sage if we did it? Today many works of mercy, including teaching, are no longer prophetic. Many others do them now. Governments have undertaken the tasks of teaching, nursing, running orphanages and technical schools, and so forth. ~ Congregations of brothers, But we need to remember that it was the example of religious con-gregations dedi- - cated to serving the earthly well-being of those in need that paved the way for governments and other secular organizations to take up welfare services. therefore, need to ask: How can we be prophetic today ? Institutions and Status Brothers' institutions do excellent work, much appreciated especially by the laity. But the institutions give the impression of material well-being, security, and status, especially in the third world. Brotherhood, of course, has less status than the priesthood, which is one of the reasons why brothers have fewer vocations. Nevertheless, brothers' institutions do have status. To all appearances the vast majority of those who want to join our communities come not because they have 67.1 2008 Malaviaratcbi * Religious Brotherhood Today heard Christ's call to radical discipleship but because they are attracted by the status and security of the insti-tutions. In factl congregations that do not have institu-tions have few vocations. Widespread unemployment and lack of talent for modern cutthroat competition seem to be the underlying reasons for the many "voca-tions" in the third world. Unfortunately, in too many instances the enjoyment of status and security continues to be the lifelong hidden motivation. As their numbers dwindle, the brothers are being for+ed to give up their apostolic commitments one by one. For various reasons such as pressure from bishops and priests, parents, and old boys [alumni] and because of understandable emotional attachments, the most prestigious institutions will be the last to be given up. This will worsen the image of the brothers and con-sequently the quality of the vocations they get. Since many hold on to their status and security, it is most unlikely that radical measures will be taken. And so the faster religious life in its present form dies, the better it is. For then God will be able to raise radical disciples for Christ from the stones of the earth (Mt 3:9). Congregations, Too, Die Part of the crisis of religious life is the probability, if not the certainty, of dying out and entering the annals of history. The reality of death looms over all reality except over the only Real One. Heaven and earth must pass away, the church must pass away (Rv 21:1-2, Heb 12:22). Even the kingdom of Christ must pass away into the kingdom of the Father (1 Co 15:24-28). If all this is true, then our congregations can hardly be eternal. We must pass away when we have adequately served God's eternal designs. If so, our dying as a group, Review for Religious with all its glory and achievements, will also be a ser-vice. Even the thought of it can be a painful, if not traumatic, experience. It is surely a historical moment when God calls us to bring our self-offering to a climax by embracing his plans in the darkness of faith. Like our Divine Master, we too may be called to give life to oth-ers by an unquali-fied submission to God's designs. In the glorious days of the brotherhood in the church, our faith may not have been so much in God as in our numbers, institutions, and achievements. Our group's willing submission to God's unknown ways will bring life to the world in an abundance which our congregational achievements could never even dream of matching. The history of salvation unequiVocally offers all believers a planofaction in time of crisis. The Remnant The history of salvation unequivocally offers all believers a plan ~of action in time of crisis. It may be new to us who have got used to large numbers, but it is a beaten path in salvation history. The faithful were often led by God to negotiate crises by means of the Remnant. The word remnant indicates how great the destruc-tion of God's people will be. "Only a remnant will remain" (Is 10:22). Surely Christ had in mind a remnant when he called his disciples "little flock" (Lk 12:32) and when he said "Many are called but few are chosen." In the Scriptures the remnant is a tiny minority of those 67.1 2008 Malaviaratchi ¯ Religious Brotherhood Today leading religious lives in the eyes of God. These few continue to believe and remain faithful in the midst of widespread infidelity. The concept shows punishment for sin and God's faithfulness, which remains untouched by human infidelity. The faith in the remnant is an essential aspect of hope in the Bible. The Remnant Today If, as religious, brothers are to have hope, they must first realize that it is to run institutions that large num-bers are needed, whereas to give witness to the gospel of Jesus Christ a few are more than enough. These few must turn back to their founders and rediscover that it is exclusively for Christ's gospel that they were brought together in the first place. Second, they need to adopt a prophetic lifestyle and thus become clearly visible signs: Their lifestyle will be visible: ¯ (1) if they have a community lifestyle that is tangibly religious, that is, God-centered with a strong contemplative dimension. ¯ (2) if they live this life not in legal rigidity but in evangelical fidelity. This needs special attention since post-Vatican II freedom has often resulted in Western permissiveness. As a part of this evangelical fidelity, those who fail to live this life should be asked to leave whenever the superior, with the com-munity, comes to that conclusion. ¯ (3) if they embrace a clearly visible life of poverty, that is,can external life of utter simplicity. In every reform movement within reli-gious life, there has been a return to radical simplicity. Our world in the clutches of consumerism is crying for a modern-day Francis of Assisi. ¯ (4) if they engage in a service that others do not do and reach out to people whom society does not care for. In this way, small groups of brothers will create a Review for Religious counterculture which the Union of Superiors General has described as one with "passion for Christ and pas-sion for humanity." They will give prophetic witness to the spiritual dimension of human life in a world of increasing secularism, to brotherly lives and work in a world of increasing individualism, to evangelical sim-plicity in a world of increasing consumerism, to God's preferential love for those that society does not care about in a world of increasing self-centeredness. In a word, religious brotherhood will be prophetic through and through, a transparently radical form of discipleship of Christ. Zen°Poem for Thomas Merton For Brother Anthony Weber OCSO Abbey of the Genesee A white cloud Near a picket fence Close to a white rose, Walked a white-habited Trappist Praying an ivory beaded rosary Ignoring a cawing crow Noticing a disappearing cloud; Flower petals falling, The fence rotting; His scapular, dusty With prayers ascending, Approaching darkness Amid a forested hermitage. William J. Bly 73 67.1 2008 VINCENT GENOVESI Room for Sacramental Reconciliation? spiritual supports We would quickly recognize the mockery made of love were lovers to ask each other only "What must I do to avoid hurting you?" We expect lovers to share a deeper ambition: "What more can I do to show my love for you?''l The same is true of our relationship with God. When our commitment to our spir-itual and moral growth is seen as a response to God's invitation to love, it would be rather insulting to play at love and revel in testing love's limits. As honest and true lovers, we do not spend time anxiously determining how far we can go before our love relationship with God is strained to the breaking point. Instead, our earnest desii'e is to discover how we can foster that relationship. It is in this context that we come to under-stand more fully the meaning of human sinful- V'mcent Genovesi sJ is professor of theology and campus minister at Saint Joseph's University; 261 City Avenue; Merion Station, Pennsylvania 19066. vgenoves@sju.edu Review for Religious ness. Sin is best understood not so much as an isolated act, but rather as a relational reality. It is deliberately breaking our love relationship with God (mortal sin) or knowingly straining that relationship (venial sin). Of course, our love relationship with God is played out largely in our human relationships. St. John reminds us that, if we profess to love God while failing to love our neighbor, we are liars; we cannot love God, whom we have never seen, if we do not love the neighbors whom we see every day (1 Jn 4:20). It is important, too, that we remember the testimony of human experience--that any love relationship can suffer from thoughtless neglect and eventually die without our notice. To grow as faithful Christians, we must ultimately make decisions for ourselves, but it is folly to believe we can or should make all decisions simply on our own, without any help. Yes, we entrust our moral life to the guidance of our conscience, provided, of course, that we have first honestly, carefully, and prayerfully sought to inform our conscience properly. Even when we do this, however, we do not always live as we know we should. We get off track, and it becomes helpful or even neces-sary to seek guidance, encouragement, and exhortation. At times like these the sacrament of reconciliation can offer assistance, especially when we are not in regular dialogue with a spiritual director. Behind Catholicism's centuries-old practice of sacramental confession, there is a wisdom whose depth can be more appreciated in light of Vatican Council II's theological insights and psychology's contribution to a fuller understanding of the human person. Still, many sincere Catholics, even priests and religious, question the usefulness or neces-sity of the rite of reconciliation. Such questioning must be addressed. 67.1 2008 Genovesi * Room for Sacramental Reconciliation? Doing Wrong versus Sinning As background for our discussion, it helps to recall that Catholics are expected to confess serious or mor-tal sins at least once a year.2 Significantly, the accus-ing is done by ourselves. ("Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.") Sins are committed only by sinners--people who freely decide to live in various ways that they know to be hurtful to their own well-being and/or the well-being of others, and so must judge themselves to be unloving and in the wrong. In acknowledging that entering into sin requires both knowledge and freedom on our part, Catholic tradition teaches that no one sins by accident--just as no one truly loves by accident. Both to love and to sin are choices or decisions. Interestingly, St. Thomas Aquinas did not think it likely that persons who are honestly trying to live as good Christians would easily or frequently rupture their love relationship with God by choosing to sin seriously: "Although grace is lost by a single act of mortal sin, it is not, however, easily lost. For the person in grace does not find it easy to perform such an act because of a contrary inclination." Aquinas means that it is pre-cisely our love for God and others that will make it difficult for us to sin, or deliberately do anything that would put our love relationship in jeopardy.3 In light of Aquinas's teaching, and in keeping with the true nature of love, we may conclude that, although it is possible to sin mortally in one particular act, it is not always a simple matter to isolate that act. It is not likely, in other words, that we would sin mortally in an act that is totally out of our character, or in an act that we have not predisposed ourselves toward. Rather, our relation-ship of love for God and others will probably change and deteriorate before there is any outright rupturing of Review for Religious the union, which is why we must be all the more atten-tive to the daily responsibilities of love. In essence, all sins of commission are expressions of "the one great sin of omission, failure to love.''4 While this failure offends God, we too suffer as a result of our sinfulness insofar as we come to find ourselves within the narrow confines of self-centeredness. It is a confinement that brings with it a death penalty, for in failing to love we become members of the living dead (1 Jn 3:14-15). Thomas Aquinas acknowledges the human destructiveness of sin when he says that sin is indeed an offense against God, but that "God is offended only by those things that we do against our own true welfare.''5 Although:.some of our actions may be undeniably hurtful and wrong, our tradition reminds us that we are not always or n, ecessarily morally guilty of sinning in doing these things. Indeed, the Catechism of the Catholic Church notes that "imputability and responsi-bility for an action can be diminished or even nullified by ignorance, inadvertence, duress, fear, habit, inordinate attachments, and other psychological or social factors" (§1735). A similar idea appears later in the Catechism: "Unintentional ignorance can diminisl~ or even remove the imputability of a grave offense . The promptings of feelings and passions can also diminish the voluntary and free character of the offense, as can external pres-sures or pathological disorders" (§ 1860). We do well to All sins of commission are expressions of ",the one great sin of omission, failure to love." 67.1 2008 Genovesi * Room for Sacramental Reconciliation? remember, however, that if because of our insensitivity, lack of awareness, or curtailed freedom we are not guilty of sin when doing something that is in fact hurtful and wrong, we have no cause for self-satisfaction and com-placency. The less sensitive, aware, and free we are, the less we are fully human. Therefore, whatever stands in our lives as an obstacle to our free commitment in love is to be seen as something to overcome in our growth toward maturity as human beings and as Christians. In no way should this obstacle be relished as excusing us from sin, because the sad truth is that even without sin we may regrettably have done something hurtful to our-selves and others and are all too able to do so again. Three Reasons for this Sacrament In light of what it means to be a sinner--knowingly and freely failing or refusing to love God and others--it is clear that it is not the role of the priest-confessor, nor is it within his power, to determine definitively whether the penitent has or has not sinned, or how .serious that sin may be. In fact, no human being can rightly call another human being a sinner because reading another person's mind and heart is the prerogative of God alone. Thus the Catechism of the Catholic Church states that, "although we can judge that an act is in itself a grave offense, we must entrust judgment of persons to the justice and mercy of God" (§1861). And so it does us all good to remember that "God does not see as man sees; man looks at appearances but God looks at the heart" (1 S 16:7). Why, then, encourage the sacrament of rec-onciliation? I offer three reasons: the social nature of life and sin, the incarnational dimension of our Catholic tradition, and the moral growth that comes from hum-bly taking possession of our sinfulfiess. Review for Religious The Social Nature of Life and Sin: We need a deeper sense today of the social implications of our sinfulness. No sin is totally private, because in sinning we produce a change within ourselves that invariably influences our dealings with others. Thus no sin really remains "secret"; its effects will somehow leave a trail. Furthermore, whenever we hurt someone, we also hurt all those, including God, who love and care about that person. This means that an appropriate expres-sion of our sor-row should include seeking forgiveness and admitting publicly that our sinfulness has alienated or distanced us from both God and our neighbors. T.he sacrament of reconciliation serves this purpose, for through our encounter with the priest, who is both God's servant-representative to penitents and the people's minister before God, we testify to our desire to be reintegrated into the community of God's love and the company of his people. It is possible that appredation of the social nature of sin would be enhanced were parishes to pro-vide communal penance services more frequently. Catholicism's Incarnational Dimension: Moreover, pre-cisely as human beings who live as body-spirits, it is tremendously helpful for us to incarnate, "flesh out" or "enact," our sorrow and our need for forgiveness through recourse to sacramental confession. In addi-tion, God wants to "enact" his forgiveness of us through Whenever we hurt someone, we aiso hurt all those, including God, wh~; love and care " about that person. 67.1 2008 Genovesi ¯ Room for Sacramental Recondliation? the priest's guidance and comfort. And so, just as Christ puts flesh on our Father's love for us, so the words of absolution put flesh on Christ's forgiveness and mercy. Fortunately, too, I think, many priests today are deeply sensitive to the essentially social and incarnational dimensions of Christian living. As a result, in assign-ing a sacramental penance, they ask penitents to move beyond simple recitation of formal prayers and to seek reconciliation with God and neighbor through spe

Issue 66.4 of the Review for Religious, 2007. ; 66.4 2007 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, ~dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul V! said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the .]csuits of the A~issoori Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulcvard ¯ St. Louis, A'lissouri 63108-3393 "li~lephone: 314-633-4610 ° Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Marl: rcvicw@slu.cdn ¯ \.\;eh site: www.revicwforrcligious.org Manuscripts, books fi~r review, and correspondence with the editor: Revicw for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Bonlcvard ¯ St. Louis, A'IO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth A'lcl)onoogh OP ° Pontifical Collcge Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Colnmhus, Ohio43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ 1:O. Bo× 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, ~\~issouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2007 Review fi~r Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contaiued in this issue of Review for Religions for pcrsoual or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sectious 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must hear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permissiou is NOT extended to copying for commercial distrihution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. view for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Adviso~7 Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonoiagh OP Eugene Hensell OSB M~ry Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jud~" Sharp Martin Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ LoOis and Angela Menard Bishop .Ter~ Ste!b.SVD Miriam D. Ukeriti~. CSJ QUARTERLY 66.4 2007 contents prisms 340 Prisms 342 living faith Credible Witnesses Regina Siegfried ASC revisits the martyrdom of five sisters of her congregation fifteen years after the event to invite us all to reflect on what it means to be credible witnesses. 350 358 Priesthood 101: Lessons from a Barrio Antonio (T.J.) Martinez SJ draws upon conversations and experiences with parishioners to propose six pragmatic guidelines on how a new priest ministers to a Latino Catholic congregation. Personal and Group Reflection Questions Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety Mark E Plaushin OSFS proposes Salesian spirituality as offering a paradigm for Catholic pastoral praxis on the battlefield which can mitigat.e anxiety and restore spiritual resilience. Reflective Questions for Personal and Group Use Review for Religious 377 prayer in our life Contemplative Gifts Carolyn Humphreys OCDS reflects upon the richness of the gift of a contemplative orientation to life and our need to guard and nourish what we receive by a manner of living that is rooted in humility. Prayer Suggestion 386 Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life Elissa Rinere CP traces some of the struggles of the last forty years regarding Eucharist as celebration, Eucharist as sacrament received, and Eucharist as object of adoration. 401 Jesus and Mary ~, The Christ Child, the Father of the Man A. Paul Dominic SJ raises the question: How can adult Christians celebrate and enjoy Christmas for what it is in our faith lives? Prayer 412 The Mother of the Lord in Byzantine Spirituality John M. Samaha SM introduces us to the rich, but different, ways that the veneration of Mary permeates the entire life of Byzantine Christianity. departments ~ 424 Scripture Scope: A Preface to Reading Matthew 429 Canonical Counsel: Conscience and Confidentiality from the Members' Perspective 434 Book Reviews 443 2007 Indexes 66.4 2007 prisms 340 St. Paul identified us Christians as "ambassadors of reconciliation." As Paul says, God has reconciled us to himself through Christ and has given us the ministry of reconciliation (2 Co 5:18). In the large-scale picture of history, we often have not lived up to that role, either as individuals or as a church community. The fact that we can identify wars as reli-gious wars does not fit well with people who are meant to be known as reconcilers. Probably even worse are the examples from history of the fight-ing between Christian nations and even between Christians in the same nation. One does not have to be an avowed pacifist to acknowledge that something is terribly amiss when the faith that holds us to be brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ has. so little effect in our behavior. There is an evident gap between the faith statements that we might intellectualize about and the faith reality thatis meant to reside in our hearts. We might even take our example of divi-sion into the lived experience of our parish and church life today and our religious community life as well. It makes little difference the iden-tifying labels we use, whether pre-Vatican I~ vs. post-Vatican II, liberal vs. conservative, tradi-tional vs. contemporary. The reality is that there is often present a "warring" mentality that con-siders one side the enemy or the "bad guys." Review for Religious Too often Catholics of whatever stripe are more intent on "defeating" or "dismissing" the opposition or those of a different opinion or practice. Quoting man-made laws, as Jesus tried to point out to the scribes and Pharisees, is not the way to be a negotiator or a reconciler. What does an ambassador of reconciliation need first of all? An ambassador needs to be at the heart of the Christian message, following the one commandment--to love God with all one's heart, with all one's soul, with all one's strength, and with all one's mind, and to love one's neighbor as oneself. And an ambassador needs to pray. To pray means dialoguing with God, and dialogue means both to talk and to listen. Learning to talk and to listen to God carries over into being able to listen and to talk to others, my neighbors. We may not need to learn how to talk, but we certainly need to learn how to listen, and maybe to pray, and even to really love our neighbor. Loving, praying, and dialoguing are necessary activities for an ambassador, necessary activities to learn how to do for one who identifies as a Christian. As we see in the Gospels, Jesus is the first "ambas-sador of reconciliation," the One sent by the Father who loved the world so much. But to be a person who dia-logues, to be one who negotiates, to be a reconciler seems so hard for us to do. It is only in our devotion to Jesus that we find ourselves empowered to live in such a way. The church and our world have never had a greater need of such ambassadors. Like the Christmas gift of Christ, we pray that we may be ambassadors of reconcilation, "a gift that keeps on giving." David L. Fleming SJ 341 ES. The editorial staff wishes all our subscribers and readers a blessed Advent time of hope and expectation and a Christmastime celebration of peace andreconciliation. 66.4 2007 REGINA SIEGFRIED Credible Witnesses living faith 20 October 1992--Rebel soldiers shoot Mary Joel Kolmer ASC and Barbara Ann Muttra ASC, their guard Peter, and two ECOMOG (Economic Community of West African States Cease Fire Monitoring Group) soldiers, on a stretch of road to Barnersville, Liberia, West Africa. 23 October 1992--Five armed NPFL (National Patriotic Front of Liberia) men arrive at the sisters' home in Gardnersville and kill Kathleen McGuire ASC, Agnes Mueller ASC, and Shirley Kolmer ASC. 31 October 1992--Early-morning phone calls and radio announcements break the hearts of fam-ily, friends, and sisters as they learn that the five Adorers of the Blood of Christ died days ago. Regina Siegfried ASC has written often for this journal. She may be addressed at 4042A Botanical; St. Louis, Missouri 63110. Her e-mail: ReginaSiegfried@sbcglobal.net Review for Religious October 2007--Fifteen years hold enough days to dull the pain most of the time, to create narratives that may or may not match the deep stories of community myth, and to reflect on the meaning of lives poured out. Martyrs and prophets--the words, are appropriate for these honored dead, but we would rather have our five sisters still living and laughing in our midst. Words can be too easy, unless they call us today to be courageous in a world still violent, broken, war-ravaged, and suffering. How do we respond, not only to their valiant lives, but also to our own deepest longings to be credible witnesses? In the early days of Christianity, the word martyrs meant witnesses, disciples of Jesus, those who proclaimed his life, death, and resurrection and who preached the good news of the household of God in their society and culture. Luke 24:48 says clearly: "You are witnesses of these things." Acts 1:8 indicates the same: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." In Acts 10:40-4.1 we read: "This man God .raised on the third day and granted that he be visible, not to all the people, but to us, the witnesses chosen by God in advance, who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead." By the 2nd century, execution for faith became associated with martyrdom. But martyrs are first and foremost witnesses to the gospel and messengers of a new way to live. The Constitution of the Adorers of the Blood of Christ uses the phrase credible witness in section 18 on gospel pov-erty: "To give credible witness to the liberating poverty of Christ in the world today and to grow toward poverty of spirit, we live in evangelical simplicity, personally and as community." To be credible witnesses can often mean losing much of what society holds precious. Status, material goods, 66.4 2007 Siegfried ¯ Credible Witnesses Credible witnesses are prophets who speak truth to authority, who advocate for the powerless, and who become voices for the silent, comfortable lifestyle, and easily expendable income can voluntarily or involuntarily fall away. Credible witnesses see beyond and beneath the obvious, the material, and the sufficient to live in solidarity with those who hold enough invisible wealth and power and grace to convert even witnesses to a new way of living. Credible witnesses are prophets who speak truth to authority, who advo-cate for the powerless, and who become voices for the silent. They bear witness to the pain, suf-fering, and anguish in the lives of others simply by being there with them, sharing in the blatant unfair-ness and violence of lives that deserve much better. The Adorers killed in Liberia were credible witnesses long before bullets claimed their lives, long before their blood soaked the soil of a war-torn country whose peo-ple were precious and dear to them. The details of their lives and deaths are now familiar and recorded elsewhere. Those who knew them recall quite vividly lives dedicated to the poor, to women, to children, to the.sick, and to students years before they went to Liberia to witness to the gospel there and to discover a different face of God, a countenance that would draw them to insist on return-ing to share again in the passion of a people suffering in a relentless and seemingly endless civil war. Even as the conflict slowly escalated, Barbara Ann was more concerned about getting a grant to purchase five Hondas "so some of our physician assistants can go to these villages for supervision. Some villages are over ten Review for Religious miles interior over rough dusty roads" (21 March 1987 letter from Klay, Liberia, to her friend Meg Wittenbrink). After a year in Liberia, Agnes wrote on 24 May 1989 to Angelita Myerscough ASC: "I'm sure I am not the same person who came a little over a year ago now. I feel my life is much richer for having spent time with these people. They have given me every bit as much as I have shared With them." On 21 April 1990, writing to Marisa Nardoni ASC in Tanzania, Mary Joel reflected on the readings after Easter: All the readings are from the Acts of the Apostles and it is so reassuring to read how strong they were now that his Spirit has taken over in them. And how we should be because the Spirit is with us and is here, guiding us, leading us on. It must have been something like the saints experienced when they were put on the line for Jesus, how they knew that he, the Lord, was their Savior and that life had meaning for them and that they could stand up for him, even though it meant being killed. It is such a powerful message. And he can do so much in us and through us, if we're only open to him. Barbara Ann, Agnes, and Mary Joel were in Liberia for the people, not to get killed. Years of service in the United States were background for more service to people in Liberia. Not naive, they knew the risks of being with people who were suffering more than they themselves were. Kathleen and Shirley had reputations in the United States as bold and fearless advocates in the face of injustice. When Shirley was provincial of the then Ruma province, she sent Mailgrams to Tom Enders, Assistant Secretary of State for Inter-American Affairs, to the Guatemalan Embassy, to Senator Charles Percy, Senator Alan Dixon, and Representative Paul Simon to express "deep con-cern regarding four workers missing in Guatemala and 66.4 2007 Siegfried ¯ Credible Witnesses the disappearance of two Dominican nuns of Grand Rapids, Michigan, I urge you to support HR 101, stop-ping U.S. aid to Guatemala." In 1987 Shirley wrote a lengthy essay, "Human Suffering and Its Consequences for World Peace," maintaining that "it is the very lives of many of our brothers and sisters who live a life of suf-fering, an existence that borders on the intolerable every day." Even before Kathleen became the peace-and-justice coordinator for the then Ruma province, she drafted a "Possible Diocesan Pastoral Letter Regarding Peace and the War in the Persian Gulf" when she ministered in the Jefferson City, Missouri, diocese. She called for "the whole Catholic community to pray for a peace which is life-sustaining for all our sisters and brothers. We have to acknowledge that we are citizens of a nation which readily uses military force to secure its national interests and to attain its political objectives all around the world." These are simply small examples from the lives of women who lived as credible witnesses years before they were killed in Liberia. If we consider them martyrs, we can just as readily regard them as prophets. Prophets speak truth to author-ity; prophets proclaim the coming of the household and reign of God in season and out of season. Like roses in December, prophets are .unexpected messengers, wit-nesses, and signs of God's presence among us. Prophets are the most credible of witnesses, for their lives are their words and their words are their lives. Standing and stay-ing in solidarity with the suffering, the neglected, and the forgotten, prophets choose life in the face of death and pour out compassion for people bent down by injustice and oppression. Prophets might flinch in the face of vio-lence and injustice, but they do not run away. Fifteen years removed from the days of raw grief, dis-belief, and pain offer us a cautionary tale. Life and the Review for Religious mission and our ministries have indeed moved on, devel-oped, and deepened, something the five absent from our midst would want. The caution comes with the tendency to settle for the mediocre, to choose complacency and comfort, to opt for the safe, for the familiar and easy, because we might - fear the new, the unexpected, and a different vision for our congregation. Our charism is wild, fierce, fiery, ten-der, and urgent. It impels us to live our ordinary lives with extraordinary passion, grace, and commitment. Violence seems to circle our globe like pollen caught in the air currents. Although Liberia and Croatia, where ASC sisters also work, seem to have reached some modicum of nor-mal existence, violence erupts in Afghanistan, Palestine, and Iraq. Children and women are trafficked; slavery is not as over as we once thought. Today, in postwar Croatia, our sisters are witnesses and prophets, living the gospel message even with "many sisters left with serious repercussions and traumas which they feel to this day," Sister Ancilla Vukoja ASC reports. When their Serb Orthodox neighbors expected to be turned away from the drug rehab center the sisters had opened in Aleksandrovac (in the vicinity of Banja Luca) because of the violence they had committed against the sisters and other Croatians, the sisters told them, "We read the Scriptures and in these words we find the forgive-ness and strength to be persons of love toward all." Their martyrdom is in giving witness to forgiveness and recon-ciliation. Some of them remember the trauma of being Prophets are the most credible of witnesses, for their lives are their words' and their words are their lives. 66.4 20O7 Siegfm'ed ¯ Credible Witnesses forced to cross a mine-laced bridge over the Sava River following in the exact steps of the sister leading them through as they sang the Magnificat. When a journalist asked Sister Maristella how she felt and what she thought about, knowing that she was facing death, she replied: "All I could think about was the many other people who were dealt the same fate. I felt that my life was no more important than theirs. I thought that it was even harder for them because, unlike us, they had children who would be orphans." The Adorers who walked that path traveled in spirit with the sisters who fled the Sino-Japanese war in China in 1937, with the ASCs who were held hostage several times and narrowly escaped death in the Congo between 1959 and 1964, with the sisters who stayed and suffered with the people in Guinea Bissau during the civil war there, and with the ASCs who trudged on a road out of Liberia in 1990. As credible witnesses, the congrega-tion has a history of walking difficult routes because the charism impels us to stay beyond the expected time and to remain with people who are precious to us. Sister Ancilla writes: Times like those, however, sometimes uncover unknown heroic potential, readiness to suffer and offer one's life for others, for goodness and love toward others. I can-not but think of our sisters who voluntarily remained in Bosnia during the fiercest conflicts and danger, sharing the fate of the Catholics in that country. They could have retreated to safety but did not out of solidarity with those who could not leave because they did not have the necessary documentation. They realized then more than ever that they were needed by their people. They were a sign to which a suffering people were able to turn and where they could find a trace of hope and protection. Our charism, our slain sisters, and our own hearts call us to live in deep compassion with all the pain and suffer- Review for Religious ing of the least among us. That stance and life make us the best we are meant to be because our charism pulses with the life of all the people of the world. Our charism is wild, fierce, fiery, tender, and urgent. We need to be where the need is greatest. Are we? Background Resources Boehmer, Clare, ASC. Echoes in Our Hearts. Ruma, Illinois: Adorers of the Blood of Christ, 1994. Konieczny, Stanley. Acting in the Most Noble Tradition: The Life and Ministry of the Adorers' Five Martyrs of Charity. ASC Profiles 14. Rome: International Center of Spirituality, Adorers of the Blood of Christ, 1999. Kolmer, Elizabeth, ASC. "The Death of Five Adorers of the Blood of Christ and the Changing Meaning of Martyrdom." U.S. Catholic Historian 24:3 (Summer 2006): 149-164. Okure, Teresa, Jon Sobrino, and Felix Wilfred, eds. Rethinking Martyrdom. SCM-Canterbury Press, 2003. Schubeck, Thomas L., SJ. "Salvadoran Martyrs: A Love That Does Justice." Horizons 28:1 (Spring 2001): 7-29. Siegfried, Regina, ASC. "Choose Life: Reflections Ten Years after Five Deaths," Review for Religious 61:5 (September-October 2002): 472- 480. Vukoja, Ancilla, ASC. "How the Sisters in the Zagreb Region Lived Their Charism during the War and the Postwar Period (particularly in the vicinity of Banja Luka)." May 2007. 16 profili di testimoni della Cbiesa in ltalia. Comitato preparatorio del IV Convengo ecclesiale nazionale (a cura di) Speranza del mondo. 349 66.4 2007 ANTONIO MARTINEZ Priesthood 101: Lessons from a Barrio d s I rushed into the sacristy for my first Mass in Spanish only a week after being ordained, my heart was beating fast. I had not spoken Spa.nish for eight years. I had just been assigned to our Jesuit parish, Sagrado Corazdn, in the segundo barrio in E1 Paso, Texas, on the Mexican border. The parish serves a poor, immigrant, Latino Catholic congregation. My fears about celebrat-ing this Mass increased when a young Mexican woman holding a blanketed newbbrn asked me to bless her baby at Mass. Recognizing that I was new to the parish, she offered instructions on how I should proceed. She would approach me at the presider's chair before the concluding blessing, cradle her baby in my arms, and then kneel as I went and raised it over th~ altar, in front of the congrega-tion, as an offering to God. "What in the world?" I thought to myself. I wondered if I had heard her correctly. But, having just graduated from one of the finest schools of theology in the country, Antonio Martinez SJ, newly ordained but back in more studies, lives at John LaFarge House; 6 Sumner Road; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. Review ~or Religious I saw in this request an instance of everything I was not to do--do not make too many distinctions between the ministerial priesthood and the priesthood of the people, do not over-ritualize any of the liturgical celebrations, and do not present yourself as so distinct a mediator of God's grace that the people minimize their own close relation-ship with Christ. Behind each of these admonitions was a "theol-ogy from below," teaching that God, through the Holy Spirit, speaks directly to his people and that the church's ministers can learn from them as well as teach them. Mentally brandishing my line of graduate degrees and sensing an opportunity to instruct the faithful, I politely yet briefly explained to her the idea of a "theology from below" which advocated a more lim-ited function of the office of the priest. Dismissing her until later, I told her I would bless her baby after Mass, on the outside steps of the church, before she and her family headed back home. Two days later I recognized the same lady I had met in the sacristy on Sunday as she humbly made her way to the priedieu before the altar dedicated to La Virgen de Guadalupe. As she finished her rosary, I purposely went near so that she migh~ thank me for both enlightening and empowering her. She came towards me with a shy smile. Graciously thanking me for the quick blessing over In ,their spirituality Latino Catholics 'understand that there, is a sacred distance between God and ~his people that is mediated by the sacred functions of a priest. 66.4 2007 Martinez * Priesthood 101: Lessons from a Barrio her baby, she also said she had been thinking and praying more about this "theology from below." Then, without showing any resentment or anger, but also without any hesitation, she simply said in her hushed Spanish, "You know, Father, I'm also that theology from below." She left as unobtrusively and reverently as she came. Her simple and direct comment left me frozen in my tracks, and then I felt a wave of shame and embarrass-ment. Everything I thought I knew about being a priest paled in comparison with what this one Latina woman had now taught me. Unassuming and unpretentious, she had just shattered my theological and presbyteral pre-sumptions, employing the very method that made them so convincing and dominant in the first place. With one sentence she had sent me to figure out what this barrio congregation wanted and expected from their priest--and could teach me. And there was little time to do this before I had to leave for my next assignment. From the numerous experiences and conversations I had with the parishioners, six axioms arose on how to be an effective Catholic priest to them. I think many Latino populations would agree with them, whether parishes or schools. I offer them, not as theologies or spiritualities, but as practical helps toward seeing and appreciating the Catholic priesthood from a Latino point of view. 1. Eres un sacerdote, dirige tu pueblo. / Maintain the distinction between the ministerial priesthood and the priest-hood of the people. Many Latinos draw a clear distinction between the priesthood of the people and their priest. While there exists a connection, the "special character" about which the ordination rite speaks in its introduction not only results from centuries of theological exploration, but more immediately is sensed in the faith of the people I was sent to serve. The ministerial priesthood, through the bestowal of sacred orders in a line from the first apostles, Review for Religious puts the ordained man in a position of special responsibil-ity, with the expectation that he fulfill the important task of following in the image of Christ by liturgically gath-ering, proclaiming, and consecrating. Latino Catholics continue to insist that this belongs to the ordained priest-hood, for in their spirituality they understand that there is a sacred distance between God and his people that is mediated by the sacred functions of a priest. This distance gives meaning to their worship and praise of God, who is among them yet distinct from them. And, while the parishioners with whom I spoke note that this does not make the ministerial priesthood better than the priest-hood of the people, it does maintain a difference, both in character and in function, which positively and directly affects their relationship with God. 2. Dales tu bendicidn. / A blessing from a priest means something. While canon law clearly outlines the importance of a blessing from a priest, it is the parishioners at Sagrado Corazdn who have emphasized this fact. Before and after every Sunday Mass, I was approached by large numbers of Latino Catholics, young and old, asking for blessings over themselves, their families, and their various religious items and' sacramentals. For them, the priest speaks not only on behalf of the people, but, with great humility and unworthiness, also speaks on behalf of Christ and his church. In so doing, priests function in persona Christi when they give a blessing, making Christ a more immedi-ate reality wherein they, their children, and all the things blessed represent both an offering up to God and God's return of that offering to them in their lives. Ritualized gestures in accordance with the church's instructions only accentuate this reality for a culture where actions speak louder than words. 3. Saluda al pueblo. / Kiss their babies, hug their grand-mothers, and shake everyonek hands. At some parishes, on 66.4 2007 Martinez * Priesthood I O1: Lessons from a Barrio a few occasions (both weekdays and Sundays), I have noticed priests entering and leaving the sacristy or church without saying hello to people nearby. The laypersons gathered for Mass have, of course, enough to do greeting one another, and I do not wish to focus overly on the pre-sider. But I have found that, for Latino congregants, the absence of greeting from their priests strikes them as not only odd but rude. They come to church to praise God, be with each other, and be with their priest. Far from giv-ing the priest a measure of prestige, his failure to interact with his parishioners at the end of Mass alienates them from himself and the church. The congregants from this culture feel most included when they get some "face time" with Father, which in turn reminds them of their impor-tance as the Body of Christ. Moreover, in an age where any "touch" from a priest raises suspicion in some people, Latino Catholics, at least in this barrio, expect and appre-ciate a warm, tangible greeting from their priest, whether it is a kind embrace, a firm handshake, or a kiss on their baby's forehead (this last one especially, according to a Jesuit priest serving in another barrio). 4. Presentate como un padre. / Wear your clerics. Clerical clothing has sometimes raised problems, espe-cially during and shortly after the height of the horrific sexual-abuse scandal in the church. Latino Catholics in the barrios, however, want their priests to look like priests when working as priests. Our parish sits along the Mexican border, and the sight of our church and of priests in clerics gives people hope and a sense of home after a long, dangerous, and even abusive journey. Furthermore, far from looking for their priests to blend in and be their buddies .and far from looking down on clerical garb as old-fashioned, the Latino culture likes clothing to reflect well-defined roles, for it helps people avoid any ambigu-ous conduct in their relationship with priests. Then, too, Review for Religious clerical garb, when not abused, stands as a symbol of ser-vice and of respect for God, the church, and the congre-gation; it is a witness to the Catholic faith they are proud of. This symbol of their faith is something Latinos cling to most especially as they migrate to foreign places and cultures where they may suffer abuse simply because of who they are. 5. Portate como un angel /ddbere to and model a higher standard of behavior. Latino Catholics have always looked for a higher standard of behavior in their priests, even if they have not always found it. For them, once you stand as an official of the church, the sacred oils and your public vows remind every-one of their quest as God's people not only to be good but to become holy. How priests act, then, either fosters the destiny of every human being to be with God, or under-mines it. Not only should a priest behave well, but he should avoid even the appearance of impropriety. He should not only practice the evangelical counsels of pov-erty, chastity, and obedience, but also be careful to witness to them. The Latino culture in the barrio, as a culture that invests greatly in role models, looks to its priests as models of a higher standard of ethical action, noble aspi-ration, and devotion to God, giving themselves and others the hope that their quest for holiness is not illusory. 6. Respeta al papa. / Speak respecqCully of your brother priests and the magisterial church. The high value the Latino culture puts on family life spills over into the way they see the church, their "other family"--many barrio parishio- Latino Catholics have always looked for a higher standard of behavior in their priests, even if they have not always found it. 66.4 2007 Martinez * Priesthood 101: Lessons from a Barrio ners attest to this and live it every day. And, just as with family loyalties, priests owe. fidelity to their brother priests and to the authority of the episcopacy, especially the Holy Father. Personally and socially identifying with the struc-tures of the church, they expect their priests to uphold those structures in a world where their other cultural structures are confusing, embattled, problematic, mocked, absent, or in disarray. While certainly open to dialogue, the Latino people are never open to disrespect. These axioms may need to be further nuanced, and others may be desirable. But, from my experiences and conversations with the people I served in a barrio, these are the lessons I have learned so far. My experience in other parishes across the United States has shown that these expectations are not limited to barrio Latinos or even Latinos in general. They cross cultural and genera-tional lines. I have read that Latino immigrant experience seems quite similar to that of Irish immigrants in earlier years. If Latin Americans will make up the majority of the Catholic Church in the United States by 2020, then I, for one, had better pay more attention to what they expect of their priests. I should pay more attention to.just what these "practical theologians from below" really are saying, so as to serve them and the church more faithfully. On a certain Sunday a while ago, I invited all those who had unbaptized newborns up to the altar for a special blessing. I would offer.the babies up to God by holding them over the altar. The first one was the child of the mother who had approached me and given me my first lesson in Priesthood 101, a course many other teachers added to later. As I held the baby up, the congregation erupted in a thunderous applause. To my mind, they were recognizing that, while I was young and foolish, with their help I just might make a decent priest after all. Review for Religious Personal and Group Reflection Questions 1. What "axioms" might I list as helps that I have learned from the people to whom I minister? 2. What experience have I had in dealing with people from other ethnic or cultural traditions? 3. How do I choose to grow in my ability ~o minister in Christ's name? the muted trumpet these dead will not rise to life but to an eternal dying and though they hear the trumpet blow its promise, its ringing joy, its piercing clarity, all muted distant, distorted like words heard undemoater deafness, dullness from the grave stumbling, not leaping, not smiling, shining but bitter, weeping how far away it sounds the ~nuted trmnpet Sean Kinsella 66.4 2007 MARK F. PLAUSHIN Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety Caatholic pastoral praxis during combat operations kes into account that soldiers confront situations that demand resourcefulness and optimum integration of their physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual selves. The soldiers' tour of duty ranges from boredom to adrenaline-pumping combat. The brutal geography saps energy and offers minimal aesthetic inspiration. In growing numbers Arabs regard Americans as occupiers, not liberators. Regardless of national goals or personal attitudes, occupiers bear the burden of proving that they are there "in the interests of the occupied. Amid all this, soldiers face the task of spiritually adapting to the experi-ence of war. Our soldiers are spiritual; many are Catholic; they will face a cycle of deployments in the years ahead. It is appropriate, then, that Catholic chaplains foster a spiri-tuality that mitigates the anxieties which stem from war Mark E Plaushin OSFS has served in the Army for twenty-two years as an infantry officer and a cultural affairs officer and as a chaplain with two tours in the Middle East. He is now Senior Catholic Chaplain at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington. His address is 721 Lawrence Street, N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017. Review for Religious so that an authentic and devout life can flourish. Salesian spirituality can help maintain and/or restore spiritual resilience, a sense of self that serves survival and can serve transitions out of combat situations. I am convinced that soldiers can put the experience of war into their own faith story without yielding to two dangerous extremes: despair as articulated in Anthony Swoford's Jarhead and hubris as trumpeted in Stephen Mansfield's The Faith of the American Soldier. Catholic praxis demands balance and perspective. War is evil and unequivocally antithetical to authentic living. On the other hand, despair is not a worthy response to it, for God's grace overcomes evil and restores human flourishing. Anthony Swoford paints a despairing picture of war's impact on the human person. A veteran of the First Gulf War, he grieves over his shared responsibility in the death of several Iraqi soldiers. The story of their anonymous deaths is told in the context of his dark experience as a Marine and is saturated with unrelenting cynicism and unyielding hopelessness. It is indicative of a malnour-ished spiritual life, but is nonetheless an important spiri-tual manifesto. He offers savvy warning about those who come home from war and tell "what they call good news, the good news about war and warriors." The truth is that war is not good news. Swoford writes: I am entitled to despair over the likelihood of further atrocities . In crowded rooms and walking the streets of our cities, I am alone and full of despair, and while sitting and writing, I am alone and full of despair--the same despair that impelled me to write this book, a quiet scream from a buried coffin. Dead, dead, my scream. What did I hope to gain? More bombs are coming. Dig your holes with the hands God gave you. (Anthony Swoford, Jarhead [New York: Scribner, 2003], p. 254) Inspired, Swoford's message is strapped for evidence of a God who loves and heals. Many have been exposed to 66.4 2007 Plausbin ¯ Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety Many military Catholics, no different than their civilian friends, lack a substantive spirituality combat and have experienced spiritual restoration. They celebrate successfully God's love for them and put war in the larger and rich picture of how God is at work in the world even as we grieve over war's sorrows. Though I mourn Swoford's despair, Stephen Mansfield's thesis is more of a problem. Recounting an experience of young Marines praying before a mission in Iraq, he writes: "They know there is a spiritual-ity to war, that warriors should trust in something beyond themselves to be of any use. So in the bar-rens of Iraq they build an altar of faith and ask their God to make them the war-riors he has called them to be.''~ Mansfield argues for a "faith-based warrior code.''2 Warriors must trust in some-thing greater than themselves, but Mansfield claims that soldiers "have been given no code, no moral or spiritual framing for the profession they now find themselves in or the war they now face death to win.''3 It is unfortunate that many soldiers do not own their faith and make it their own, even though the "code" already exists in the gospel and its message is right there in our traditions. Many military Catholics, no different than their civilian friends, lack a substantive spirituality. Though Mansfield offers insight into the shortcomings of religious support on the battlefield, he seems to celebrate war as a spiritual act. While he captures the elegant dilemma of millen-nial Christians serving in the armed forces, he deifies the American Christian soldier as righteous by virtue of his or her identity as such. Like all gospels of prosperity, this theory suffers from Gnostic influence, Review for Religious Swoford experiencing spiritual anemia and Mansfield a spiritual hubris are inadequate responses to soldiers whose anxieties undermine their spiritual health. Warriors are spiritual, not because they embrace a cult, but when they focus on their essential vocation of self-gift. The Catholic chaplain can offer a spirituality that neither embraces despair nor trumpets war. We are authentic neither in despairing nor in dancing, but in an acceptance of God's love and in our sequent resolution to embrace him and those he sends into our lives. The Gospel amid War's Anxiety The tactical dynamic--compounded by numbing rep-etition, interaction with an ambivalent and unpredictable indigenous population, and an uncertain sense of contrib-uting to a limited national victory--tends toward exhaus-tion of soldier resilience. Numbers of troops leave the desert emotionally, physically, and/or spiritually depleted. Many pursue the task of recovery, conscious and appre-ciative of personal and professional resources available to them. Others struggle on their own to regain their poise or their passion for life, only to feel personal defeat and exhibit an unhealthy sense of self. Even those who recover often suffer personal and professional setbacks. Given these circumstances, those who command troops and those who give troops pastoral care face a multiform threat to their well-being. Military decision making is incomplete if it does not mitigate risk in its varied forms. Yet commanders and troops know that risk attends even routine operations. We also know that, when soldiers are led by capable and honest leaders, receive challenging and realistic training, and have strong morale in units with a tested esprit de corps, they will face any threat and level of risk. Further, these warriors are more likely to survive war and help 361 66.4 2007 Plausbin * Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety 362] others do so. This includes setting positive conditions for recovery from the rigors of war after redeploying to the United States. All commanders want to bring their soldiers home alive and intact, and chaplains share responsibility for safe homecoming. Pastoral praxis, however, envisions more than biological survival and physical integrity. Pastoral care in the war zone, as in any apostolic setting, seeks to sustain and enhance the life of the soul. We refer to spiri-tual resilience when we reflect .on this sense of self that marks authentic lif~ in Christ. This resilience is essential to healthy personal relationships, whether one continues in a military career or returns to civilian life. Helping sol-diers keep or recover resilience means nothing less than helping them integrate their experience of war into their life's story so well that they can still or again celebrate God's love for them. This is the central task of the gospel in the war zone. The primary threat to a fighting man or woman's spiri-tual center of gravity is anxiety. Francis de Sales (1567- 1622) says, "With the single exception of sin, anxiety is the greatest evil that can happen to the soul.''4 Because anxiety saps people's strength, they have a diminished capacity for resisting temptation arid practicing acquired virtues.5 The practice of virtue is the life of charity, the organization of people's lives toward God. Devotion is superabundant charity. Charity is the archetype virtue and accommodates all other virtues to a person's state in life.6 Francis cor-relates the disabling of virtue with greater susceptibility to temptation. This "disabling" is the organization of self toward someone or something other than God. This has an effect on .the soldier, his unit, and military operations. Contrasting abuse of prisoners with a pro-fessional way of handling them can demonstrate this. A sergeant who captured a few insurgents after they had Review for Religious ambushed and killed three of his fellow soldiers told me, "Sir, I just wanted to kill them all, but I knew it was the w.rong thing to do." Such conduct is an example of the resilience soldiers need to navigate difficult moral deci-sion points correctly, with integrity. Each armed service promotes virtue through core values.7 The cultivation of these values, from basic entry training through retirement, is essential to the spiritual fitness that characterizes - good soldiering and a ful-filling career. The battle-field minister, proffering Salesian spirituality as a practical illumination of the gospel, understands that the life of charity demanded by the gospel is prerequisite to, and fruit of, a healthy spiritual life. Anxiety, on - the other hand, is a spiritual pathology: it degrades spiri-tual health. It is a disordered desire to be free of an evil or to acquire some good.8 This contributes to disorgani-zation of the individual's personal resources--not least of which is a positive sense of self. Let us see how anxiety enters the soul. When .our soul perceives it has suffered an evil, it is dislSleased. This displeasure, which we call sadness, is naturally something we want to be relieved of as soon as possible. But why do we seek relief?. De Sales suggests two answers that determine our spiritual deportment. One, the soul seeks relief out of love for God and for a better .relationship with God. Remembering all the good things God has given, the soul is patient if relief from sadness does not ,come quicldy.9 It depends on God's providence rather than its own effort,l° The primary threat to a fighting man or woman's spiritual center of gravity is anxiety. 66.4 2007 Plausbin ¯ Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety Alternatively, the soul seeks relief out of self-love.~t In this spiritual estrangement, the soul relies on its own effort. It has an inadequate awareness or no awareness of God seeking a loving relationship. In this case, all other goods, whether people or things, are either grasped or discarded without reference to God or his purpose. This is a poor use of personal freedom. It is not uncommon for such a distressed person to make inappropriate choices regarding sexual behavior, substance abuse, and even vio-lence. The soul feels overwhelmed, inadequate, or inau-thentic, and a God who has a personal interest in them seems unimaginable. 36-4 Spiritual Resilience Spiritual resilience is diminished when there is no sense of God's providence--ttiat is, how God is "orga-nized" toward our completion.12 De Sales notes that anxi-ety breeds impatience and agitation. The soul "will excite and wear itself out in a search for escape," producing a cycle of sadness--anxiety--sadness--anxiety, which is "extremely dangerous.".~3 The soul's desire to be free of evil or to acquire some good is not misplaced. God is good and has imbued in us the instinct for good. But anxiety dis--orders our rela-tionship with God and others. It distorts the individual's understanding of the good and the way to achieve it. An anxious soldier may stop eating, become sleepless, and act angrily. Although none of these behaviors are good, the soldier adopts them as if they are good. His disordered view of the good leads to harmful action or neglect. A soldier thus weakened may fail when lives are at risk. If injury or death results, this leads to a crash of self-esteem, a spiritual and emotional crisis. Every mission in the combat zone, without excep-tion, calls for a wearying intensity that creates a taut- Rev&w for Religious bow effect. Archers with arrows always notched hold their bow under constant tension. Such tension is not eased until one is within the perimeter of a friendly camp. Even then mortar and rocket attacks, or bombs borne by per-sons or vehicles, may cause a constant wariness.14 Keep a bow too taut for too long and you may be too numb to act quickly; not keep it taut and you may be too late. The tension is compounded by months in hostile terri-tory where attacks are inevitable somewhere. The soldier's risk of casualty is an anxiety that is not shared in our civilian community. Let me suggest four themes based on my experience. Interestingly, it is not death that soldiers always fear most. (1) When we left an operati[ag base to make sense of the stirred-up population, superheated weather, and the mystery that is Iraq, I made an act of contrition. Because I do nbt carry a weapon and my bodyguard and teammates did, I often did the driving so their hands were free to fire their weapons. I prayed that if attacked I would react as rehearsed--facilitating our escape or the enemy's destruc-tion. I reviewed our plan, our first-aid procedures, and the radio procedures for calling in a medical-evacuation heli-copter (MEDEVAC). I thought through situations that might require these skills while simultaneously comforting the dying, administering the sacrament of the sick, or honoring the dead. In short, I asked God to strengthen me so that I would not let my buddies down. This concern motivated us to know our jobs, rehearse our mission, and stay in shape. Despite the self-confidence that comes from good planning, tough training, and solid leadership, an error in judgment or even a brief moment of cowardice could jeopardize others. (2) My fear of letting others down was an anxiety miti-gated by experience, training, practiced communication, and common-sense leadership. On the other hand, the fear of being maimed offered few practical remedies. The 66.4 2007 Plaushin ¯ Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety Another ground for anxiety is the fear leaders share in ordering others into combat. odd thought crossed my mind that losing one eye would not be too bad, but losing both would be worse than death. If it were a choice between losing an arm, a leg, my genitals, or some horrendous combination of these, I prayed for a quick death and one that would precede incineration in the burning fuel and exploding ordinance of my vehicle. Some risks seemed remote and conjured little anxiety. For instance, death itself or capture by a sword-wielding fanatic seemed unlikely to me; for others, such thoughts provoked concern. (3) Another ground for anxiety is the fear leaders share in ordering others into combat. Leaders up and down the chain of command balance concern for their troops with mission accomplishment. Senior officers must trust their juniors to lead, knowing mistakes and losses are inevitable; this is necessary to their maturing. (4) Anxiety also stems from separations within families. No matter how solid a relationship may be, it will be chal-lenged by fear of loss. Although digitalization has enhanced rapid and continuing communication, distance and absence increase fears by not enabling family members to embrace. Numerous counseling sessions confirm that e-mail and the telephone are two-edged swords. They allow an exchange, of information but do not permit the quality communication essential to intimacy. In fact, too much information can be transmitted, causing dis-traction and stirring up anxiety until reunion is achieved. But reunion itself also causes tension. Only by managing expectations and integrating the experience of the military deployment into the family's story will the family flourish. Review for Religious The issues above cause soldiers both appropriate concern and grist for anxiety. By "appropriate concern" I mean a savvy appreciation of the risks along with con-fidence in God's providence. Where concern has been displaced by anxiety, however, there is need for healing. A Salesian method can be summarized in three stages. (1) Challenge the soldiers to identify and describe the sorrow that burdens them. (2) Aid them in consciously turning their sorrow over to God's providential care. (3) Encourage them to experience the devout life as compat-ible with soldiering. War as the Source of Sorrow Recall that anxiety is a disordered attempt to free the soul of sorrow. Many soldiers identify the root sorrow in their soul incorrectly. They report as source what is actu-ally a presenting issue. The marriage may be in trouble, the children may be acting out, a friend may have been wounded, she may have been attacked, together they may have killed a combatant or noncombatant, or some other combination of things common to soldiering may have been experienced. Yet, as tragic as all of these may be, they veil the source. Our original misuse of free will has left us flawed and in search of authenticity. When we experience anxiety fed by fear of letting buddies down, physical trauma, leading others into harm's way, suffering a ruined relationship, or anything else, we experience sorrow that stems from our incompleteness. We grieve oversuffering a loss or anticipating one. War stirs up a profound awareness of this inadequacy--our inability to control the events, cir-cumstances, and conditions that can destroy us or those we love and the things we value. While war can be legiti-mized and even benefit the community, it is inherently destructive of the human person. Even winning does not 66.4 2007 Plaushin * Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety make us more complete, more fulfilled, or more human since war's brutality exhausts our intellect, emotions, physical being, and spiritual life. God responds to this suffering by providing the grace which completes us. This redemptive work helps us weave the experience of war into the cloth of our personal story and celebrate God's reconciliation. The role of Salesian spirituality is to promote indefatigable optimism in this process and in the human person. Many soldiers who receive God's grace do respond to his presence. They are resilient, and they integrate their experience into their life's story. This being said, an authentic response to war begins with experiencing it as miserably depleting. This either turns us inward or toward God and those wonderful others he sends to us. This brings us back to De Sales's observation that sorrow arises from either a love of God or a disordered love of self. If we see only our own selves as necessary and sufficient to make us complete, we set the stage for anxiety and the consequent disordering of our lives. If, however, we acknowledge our incompleteness and see God as the one who can make us complete, we live well.~5 We cooperate with the Father who makes good our deficiencies through the grace of Jesus Christ. Yet all disciples stand in a gap between possessing Christ and possessing fullness in Christ. This is our root sorrow. Because we do not yet possess this fullness, we hold on to the good things God gives us: Though they cannot complete us, we understandably hold on to them as evidence of his love and we fear losing them. And our fear of losing them is aggravated in the brutality and uncertainty of the war zone. Diminishment of spiritual integrity and peace sterriS from this, from an event that is disordered, dehumanizing, and destructive in its nature. The resilience to address this lack of fullness is fos-tered by grace, which in turn is characterized by a life Review for R~eligious organized for union with God. It begins with encourage-ment to consciously recognize and describe the sorrow war places on the soldier's heart--this lack of fullness, adequacy, or completeness. This is validated in confession, counseling, and group process.16 Thus a person learns to engage the dilemma of discipleship in the "valley of the shadow of death.''17 Turning War's Sorrow Over to the Father's Care Once the soldier is conscious of the sorrow stemming from the experience of war, has enumerated her palpable concerns, and has been validated, it is appropriate to chal-lenge her to turn her sorrow over to God's providential care. If she is aware that only union with God brings com-pleteness, how will she organize her personal resources to turn toward God? Salesian spirituality, like all spiritualities, explicates the gospel so disciples can adapt it to their circumstances. It provides a way of responding in a particular way to the gift of Jesus' life for us. Let us highlight ways Salesian spirituality contributes to a healthy sense of self and a proper ordering of self toward God. In his Introduction Francis de Sales treats this search for authenticity, reflecting on the disciple's "devout life," defined as a careful, frequent, and prompt response to God's love.18 This love or grace is God's relentless pres-ence wherein he offers redemption in eucharistic life. Here Jesus feeds, teaches, heals, and forgives. Soldiers who receive this grace and explore the force of war on the soul are ready to turn their sorrow over to the Father at this time and place. De Sales's guidance helps here with humility and gen-tleness. His own humble and meek lifestyle resulted in these virtues becoming synonymous with his spiritual leg-acy. Optimism, too, is present in the "gentleman saint's" 66.4 2007 Plaushin ¯ Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety spiritual patrimony. Under the master virtue of devotion, humility, gentleness, and optimism are the virtues essen-tial to a balanced, authentic response to war. The humble, gentle, and optimistic soldier is oriented toward the God who is ready to heal her in a life-sustaining embrace. This is God's gift of reconciliation, which is Jesus Christ. Jesus' continuous gift of self promotes spiritual resilience and our vocation of self-gift. Practicing these and other virtues is incarnafional and eucharistic. Jesus, real God and real man, who really died on the cross and really rose from the dead, really walks among his people now in our eucharistic life, evidenced in a consistent, evolving, sagacious communion with God in personal prayer. This communion is essential to our disposition because it is the place for turning the sor-rows of war over to the Father. The warrior is encouraged to pursue a way of discipleship that includes a lifetime encounter with word and sacrament in communion fel-lowship. Healing comes by placing oneself in the presence of God's grace in these ways. The devout life is a viable response to war and the means for placing its burden into God's providential care. The Soldier's Devout Life De Sales published the Introduction in 1609, in a Europe that was conflicted. The Protestant and Catholic Reformations spawned persecution, acrimony, and armed conflict. Intertwined with the evolving Reformation, competing visions for political, religious, and economic society contributed to wars between sovereignties then turning into modern nation-states. Interregional conflict shaped a complex and volatile international system, com-pounded by Islam's advance in the East through conquest, coercion, and cultural assimilation.~9 Francis was well respected, and many sought his coun- Review for Religious sel. Though not an army chaplain, he was known to polit-ical and military figures, and he faced rigorous service during the Catholic Reformation. During his 1594 mis-sion into Calvinist Chablais near Lake Geneva, he "lived in a fortress garrisoned by the Duke of Savoy's soldiers [and] worked to some extent under their protection in conditions of intolerable hardship and poverty, ridiculed, persecuted, attacked even physically, saying Mass day by day in icy, half-ruined churches, preaching to empty pews.''2° His pastoral paradigm serves us well. De Sales's approach was to consistendy and construc-tively engage those whose anxiety affected their self-worth or preempted their awareness of God. The Introduction guides readers from their initial desire to live the devout life through a full resolution to continue it no matter what. He offers insights into how this resolve is nour-ished by prayer and sacraments, by the practice of virtue, by turning from temptation, and by renewing their com-mitment. His concept of devotion is robust--even athletic. He uses phrases such as "spiritual agility and vivacity" and discusses devotion as a spiritual fire that "bursts into flames.''2~ Its appeal rests in the celebration of the voca-tion of charity which we all share, soldiers included. It is a vocation that places suffering in the context of our story. This is clear in his "purgative,' meditations. One that is meaningful to the soldier is "The Fifth Meditation--On Death." He writes: Consider the uncertainty of the day of your death. O my soul, thou must one day quit this body. When will it be? In a town or in the country? In the day or in the night? Will it be without warning or with warning? Will it be the result of disease or of some accident? Wilt thou have time to confess or not? Wilt thou be assisted by thy confessor and spiritual Father? Alas! We know nothing at all about these things. We only know 66.4 2007 Plausbin ¯ Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety The soldier's vocation is one of preparation, readiness, and especially action, even in the midst of uncertainty. 372 that we shall die, and always sooner than we expect.22 The warrior is near death, and it is unrealistic to imagine the situation on the battlefield otherwise, but anxiety is displaced by reflection on our vulnerability in the context of final fulfillment in the Father. The soldier's vocation is one of preparation, readiness, and especially action, even in the midst of uncertainty. Action is emphasized because superabundant char-ity is the action of God's incarnate love. Thr.ough the Holy Spirit, in the Body of Christ, we are Jesus' heal-ing presence. The vocation of charity is our response to God's incarnate gift of reconciliation and encompasses our state in life. It is a way of being in the world modeling Jesus' own vocation of self-gift. This pro-vides a healthy con-text for suffering. For the soldier, suffering while courageously doing one's duty is an indicator of spiritual resilience. Francis writes: "Among these devout people those who suffer afflictions are not overconcerned about their sufferings and never lose courage. To con-clude, look upon the eyes of the Savior who comforts them, and see how all of them together aspire to him.''2~ De Sales sees prayer and sacramental encounter as the center of the devout life. God pours upon us the grace to live the vocation of charity whereby we order ourselves toward him and others. This ordering occurs in prayer and sacrament, which are places for our spiritual transi-tion. In these places we move from our incompleteness to being filled by God's goodness. Francis emphasizes this Review for Religious when he writes, "We must pause here, Philothea [which means "soul that loves God], and I assure you that we can-not go to God the Father except through this gate.''24 When using phrases like God's grace, I mean God's presence. He is the gift that "orders" us through his teach-ing, feeding, forgiving, and healing. Thus De Sales intro-duces one of the most powerful exercises in the Salesian repertoire--calling to mind God's presence. While we may intellectually acknowledge that presence, we may not take it to heart and thus be more anxious than attentive to what is required of us in any particular time or place.2s The importance of this is found in a special vision soldiers cultivate and which we call "situational aware-ness." It signifies contextual vision because fear narrows vision and we lose our sense of the peripheral. Salesian disciples seek God as manifest in the world--even on the battlefield. Soldiers recount how, despite loss and suffer-ing, "some little thing" restored their vision of God as present and rekindled their efforts to feed, teach, heal, and forgive. This grace does not originate in a God who sits outside of our reality and to whom we nod in defer-ence from afar, but a real someone who chooses to walk with us in the dust and blast, and to break the bread with us. The devout life improves this eucharistic vision. Our response to this presence is a virtuous life, and De Sales teaches: "All men should possess all the virtues, yet all are not bound to exercise them in equal measure. Each person must practice in a special manner the virtues needed by the kind of life he is called to.''26 For example, patience and chastity are virtues pertinent to a warrior. This promotes union with God and turning away from things that distract us from him. One of the most practical sections of the Introduction is Francis's treatment of temptation. In a world where risk and consequence attend choice, the optimum opera- 66.4 2007 Plausbin * Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety tion of free will is anxiety free. Our choices are grounded in a self-concept that models Jesus' own integration of his physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual compo-nents. This appeals to soldiers because Francis's anthro-pology respects our potential for giving God glory in the day-to-day effort to "be all that we can be." The devout life is appropriate for the soldier and sets conditions for lessening or getting rid of anxieties that may afflict those who serve in combat. In this freedom, soldiers can recover spiritual resilience and refresh the imprint of the gospel in their hearts. Humility, Hope, and Providence Stephen Mansfield and Anthony Swoford's books are deficient in humility and hope, respectively. Catholic war-riors need a spirituality which helps them adapt the gospel to their lives' circumstances, not a Christocentric warrior's code. More, they must become free of anxiety, which is spiritually toxic and replaces eucharistic relationships with narcissism. If unchecked, it diminishes the capacity to deal in a healthy way with war and postconflict transitions, because these events are not put in the context of one's faith journey. The ability to celebrate Godat work in the world is disabled, as evident in Swoford's biography. Salesian spirituality builds and sustains a spiritual resilience which mitigates anxiety. It supports conscious articulation of the sorrow that war imposes on the heart and consistent turning of this sorrow over to God's providence. It reinforces commitment to the vocation of devotion that is practical and useful for Catholics on the battlefield and throughout the war zone. This spirituality celebrates the optimism, humility, gentleness, and super-abundant charity that characterize God's incarnate healing presence--Jesus Christ, Prince of Peace. Review for Religious Notes * Stephen Mansfield, The Faith of the American Solider (London: Penguin Books), p. 175. 2 Mansfield, The Faith, p. 157. 3 Mansfield, The Faith, p. 142. 4 De Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, trans, and ed. John K. Ryan (New York: Image Books, 1972), p. 251. See Col 3:14, wherein love's relationship to other virtues is stressed. 5 De Sales, Introduction, pp. 251-252. 6 De Sales, Introduction, pp. 121-122. 7 The Catechism of the Catholic Church defines virtue as the "habitual and firm disposition to do good" (§1803). The use of the word "value" in the armed services corresponds to this--Army: loy-alty, duty, respect, selfless service, honor, integrity, and personal cour-age; Navy and Marine Corps: honor, courage, and commitment; Coast Guard: honor, respect, and devotion to duty; Air Force: integrity first, service before self, and excellence in all we do. 8 De Sales, Introduction, p. 252. 9 De Sales, Introduction, p. 251. ,0 De Sales, Introduction, p. 251. ~* De Sales, Introduction, p. 251. ,2 1 have in mind the "the economy of salvation." Providence is this effort on our behalf culminating in the incarnation. "The promise made to Abraham inaugurates the economy of salvation, at the culmination of which the Son himself will assume that 'image' and restore it in the Father's 'likeness' by giving it again its Glory, the Spirit who is 'the giver of life.'" Catechism of the Catholic Church, §705. ,3 De Sales, Introduction, p. 251. '4 Insurgents fired rocket-propelled grenades (RPGs), albeit poorly aimed, into an area of our forward-operating base (FOB) through which we had mapped a favorite running route. Our intelligence officer rec-ommended we increase our pace in that sector. Everyone chuckled-- "sort off" ~s A theme in Augustine's Confessions: "You stir man to take pleasure in praising you, because you have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you." Confessions, trans. Henry Chadwick (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), p. 3. See also Psalm 62:2. 16 After Iraq's "capitulation" in 2003, I heard confessions of troops transitioning home. Penitents and I were in tears, moved by the events these good men endured. 375 66.4 2007 Plaushin * Salesian Spirituality and Stemming Combat Anxiety 17 Psalm 23:4 (King James Bible). ,8 De Sales, Introduction, p. 40. ,9 The Battle of Lepanto stemmed the Ottoman advance in 1571. Francis was four. ~0 Elisabeth Stopp, A Man to Heal Differences: Essays and Talks on St. Francis de Sales (Philadelphia: St. Joseph's University Press, 1998), p. 4. This is similar to the experience of Catholic chaplains operating today out of FOBs. 2'De Sales, Introduction, pp. 40-41. 22 De Sales, Introduction, p. 60. 23 De Sales, Introduction, p. 70. 24 De Sales, Introduction, p. 81. 2s De Sales, Introduction, p. 84. 26 De Sales, Introduction, p. 122. Reflective Questions for Personal and Group Use How would I share my spirituality as a help to someone in military service? Does my lived spirituality have an effect on how I deal with anxiety? How would I see Plaushin's approach to a spirituality responding to military combat affec~:ing the way I live my spiritual life in my given circumstances? 376 Review for Religious CAROLYN HUMPHREYS Contemplative Gifts We need not live in the desert or dwell in a monastery in order to live contemplatively. Not so surprisingly, there are people in deserts and in monasteries who are not contemplatives, and people in the inner city and in prisons who are very contemplative. Living contemplatively is a way of being alive that resembles a continuous quiet flame in a world darkened by sin. The light does not shine by our doing something or making something happen. We cannot do contemplation or make it happen. Rather, we let it happen in us by graces from God. A contemplative orientation to life is an exquisite gift to us from God. This gift comes in many forms and ways. We guard and nour-ish what we receive by a manner of living that is rooted in humility. When we open contem-plative gifts with care and treasure their con- Carolyn Humphreys OCDS, a registered occupational therapist, last wrote for us in early 2004. She produces a four-page quarterly, Mary's Garden, from 7101 E. Rosecrans Avenue, #159; Paramount, California 90723; U.S.A. prayer in our life 1377 66.4 2007 Humpbreys ¯ Contemplative Gifts 378 tents, we find we are no better or holier than anyone else. Rather, we are one with all wounded and sinful humanity. When we perceive all humanity as equal, there is no incli-nation to feel greater or lesser than those of another race, nationality, religion, or ability. This manner of living is a great gift indeed. This self-knowledge is a dear teacher. It is present in all contemplative awareness. This inner knowledge tells us that we are the ones responsible for our feelings, behavior, and actions. To avoid blaming or projecting our negativity on others is a sound step forward on the contemplative path. Cooperation with .God's still small voice within gives us wisdom greater than our own, and thereby keeps inap-propriate comments about others in check. Self-knowl-edge does not occur without common sense. Common sense tells us many things. People who are levelheaded are more apt to keep confidences than those who engage in frivolous or malicious gossip. Individuals who know their true selves are humble and are serious about stay-ing away from negative influences. We ask God that we may be receptive when he reveals us to ourselves. This is a courageous prayer, because such self-knowledge is hard to take. We grow spiritually, however, by learning more about ourselves through being receptive to grace in whatever form it takes. When self-knowledge increases, we are able to live in God's presence more fully. We live in the presence of God when we have the ability to discern his presence within us and around us. Our lives are quite ordinary, but we notice the extraordi-nary in our days. God is at the kitchen stove, office desk, and bathroom sink. We recognize his presence, and so we are fully attentive to What is in the present moment. We recognize the level of our ability to love when we seem empty of love, when we seem full of love, and at all levels in between. ,Together with our level of ability to love, we Reviezv for Religious acknowledge our ever present need for God's grace, and acknowledge that our thirst for God is never quenched. Living in God's presence helps us let go of concerns during our daily prayer so we can simply be present to his life and love. No matter how much we have to do, it is not what we do, - but who we are, that defines us as unique persons. If all we do is "do," we can eas-ily destroy the reality of who we are in the sight of God. Doing things well is not a substitute for well --- being. Finding our identity in the many things we do can detract from who we really are as humble persons in the light of God's love. If we keep our eyes open and focus on gospel teach-ing when we pray, we gradually learn to see the world with the eyes of Christ. No longer do we walk around in a befuddled state, or tend to our duties in a preoccupied way. Our heads are neither in the clouds nor in the sand. We concentrate on, and respond to, that which goes on within and around us at the moment, in the light of God's love. This orientatioh enables us to go beyond the obvi-ous and look for what cannot be seen, such as inner hurts, hopes, unspoken needs and dreams. A contemplative way of being is evident in an out-look on life that influences our behavior with the positive, affirming, loving transcendence of God. This transcen-dence bonds the infinite goodness of God with the finite people and things of earth. In our day it is a continual challenge to maintain such an outlook. We are limited beings, and the temptation to deny, regress, or avoid con- If alt we do :is "do," we can easily destroy the reality of who we are in the sight of God. 379 66.4 2007 Humphreys ¯ Contemplative Gifts 380 flictive or derogatory thoughts always seems to be with us. In a contemplative way of being, however, we face the reality of these thoughts with honesty and courage. This helps us become more loving. It takes work, though, and a resistance to self-indulgence. If we look as objectively as we can at the opposing aspects of our daily choices, we step away from whatever causes negativism or self-absorp-tion. We move forward to what gives us a clearer perspec-tive on the possible results of our choices. To find beauty in the broken places and troubled areas of our lives is a constant component of our contemplative gifts. In doing this, we look at what is in our hands and hearts and find peace instead of turbulence. The more we are sustained by our trust in God, the easier we find him in all that passes in and out of our hands and our lives. We see Jesus more clearly as our minds become free of rejections and afflictions. We sit down, sit still, and really listen to the still small voice of God. Only with the passing of time, and the help from grace, do we become more alert to the world within us. We must be watchful because this world is easily obscured by the world outside us. Through the energy of grace, the effects of contem-plative gifts flow from the inside out. The degree of our awareness of these gifts develops in concurrence with many factors. We are fascinated by how God works in ourselves and in others. Seeing God thusly liberates us from interrupting people with trivial incidents concern-ing ourselves. We listen to others with an open heart and mind by focusing on them. We are aware of what they are saying, how they are saying it, and what their behav-ior reveals. Learning when to talk and when to be quiet refines our humility. The more we seek God, the more our self-absorption diminishes. A marker of our seeking is the sparing use of sentences containing the words 1, me, or my. There is no burning need to prove our point, Review for Religious manifest our intelligence, proclaim our opinion, or prate about our experiences. When we are seeking God, we respectfully listen to what people tell us and refrain from forming our responses or nourishing our prejudices while they are talking. We listen as a friend or confidant rather than as an adversary or advisor. Silence Is Golden Love for silence is a contemplative gift. Silence becomes a gem that is sought, treasured, and reverenced. To be comfortable with the silence of God, of others, and of ourselves is rare and beautiful. Silence nurtures us far more than we will ever understand. It becomes the primary way in which we grow in love. In the early stages we discover the many ways in which love can be posses-sive or self-centered. When we observe quietly, we may see people using others as objects of pleasure or using them to complete their character by filling their needs and inadequacies. We realize that no one should be used as an object or extension of someone else. Our silence enables us to be signs for others of God's presence and peace, even when life's storms come our way. During disturbing times we use silence to think things through before taking action. We are not overwhelmed by all that we have to do. We break down large, intimidating, time-consuming tasks into manageable segments. We han-dle them one hour at a time. These periods then resemble stepping stones across a river. We give our attention to one stone at a time. In doing so, we are on the other side of the river before we know it. If we do not keep our con-centration on the stone at hand, we may slip and fall in. Or, if we do not even attempt the first stone, we will end up finding a longer, harder way to get across. Taking life one step at a time gives us time to visit our inner sanctuary, our place of. rest. After we finish 381 66.4 2007 Humpbreys ¯ Contemplative Gifts Taking life one step at a time gives us time to visit our inner sanctuary, our place of rest. 382 one thing and before we start another, we can rest in our sanctuary and think deep, serious, playful, or lightsome thoughts. A better option is just to gaze quietly upon the heart of Christ. Like crossing the river, we move toward God small step by small step. We move onward inch by inch rather than waste time on hurry, or worry about the pile of work ahead of us. When God becomes our primary reality, many positive things happen to us. All that seemed important before God entered our lives takes on an insig-nificance that truly surprises us. To be faithful to the contemplative way when the going gets rough takes patience and fortitude. The con-templative way is manifest in the tranquillity of order. The more our lives are centered on Jesus, the more these traits will develop: we pray consistently, eat moderately, dress modestly, exercise appropriately, use money wisely, speak quietly, and treat others with dignity. We spend our leisure time in carefree activities, and read and use the media in ways that instruct or uplift. Our homes are simple and cozy. We conduct ourselves well and deal with our family and others with respect and grace. Rather than grumble, we do something about what causes a com-plaint. We work with concentration and good humor. Our motives are clear and direct. The quality of each day is more important than the quantity of things we do or the places we go. In dark times we may not understand what is happening, but somehow we know God is there. We trust in God and hope for the best. Indeed, there are Review for Religious many times when we lose a treasure only to find a greater treasure or lose our way only to find God's way. The contemplative way is mostly a way of silence and darkness. We want to speak about God, but we realize that images,' analogies, and words fall short. Nothing we can say seems adequate. Words are a hindrance because, although we ardently seek God, we can never really find him. If we think we have found God in our words and definitions, it is not really God, but only our own fal-tering concept about God, who is all mystery. We never fully grasp who God is. We move toward God with open hearts in the silent night. We move ahead wordless in the unknown but holy darkness. Even though God is beyond all mere human thoughts or definitions, we persevere in communing with him through prayer. It is our lifeline. To a contemplative, prayer is as important and as natural as a heart beating. Prayer is the energy that makes our spiritual lives go, and the rock that never lets us give up hope. In the inner atmosphere of prayer, we are one with God and all cre-ation. Awareness of this unity with all is at a deeper level of consciousness than that of normal life. A contempla-tive outlook is one of continual spiritual wonder. There is an awe at the sacredness of all life, which reflects the love that flows from the S6urce of life. A contemplative outlook sees without seeing, in a profound depth of faith, and knows without knowing, in knowledge too deep to understand. We know God to the extent that we are invis-ibly touched by him who has no hands. To know this is to awaken to him who is the most real. We realize God's tre-mendous love and respond to it from our deepest depths. To become all that God meant us to be is to find our true selves in Christ. To be so in touch with what is truly real lets the authenticity of our lives reach out and touch that which is most authentic in others. 66.4 2007 Humpbreys ¯ Contemplative Gifts Contemplation is a journey of love through realistic care for others. We, who are connected with all people by the strong bonds of prayer, give to them by prayer, and through the appropriate use of our talents. Yes, a con-templative way of life grows from roots in quiet prayer. Quiet prayer results in quiet listening, fine-tuned obser-vation, a giving of ourselves and a daily openness to God's mysteries and wonder. Seasoned contemplatives are well mellowed by years of quiet prayer content with mystery and wonder. They use their talents well, and are at home with themselves. The self is forgotten. Their focus on others makes their presence a transparent gift: there are no strings. The gift shows itself in people's ability to see that the givers discover, appreciate, and make wise use of the treasures hidden in everyone and everything that comes along. Being a contemplative is a never-ending liberation. We are alone but not lonely, because we are in communion with Jesus, who resides in our hearts. He is our anchor and our compass. We are one with others because we wrap them with our prayer. Other people rarely intimi-date us, because we forgive them easily and know our own unique gifts. We become more receptive, more grateful, more filled with grace. Faith is far from abstract theory; rather, it is an everyday reality sometimes shrouded in mystery. Wonder is always with us, for we look beyond appearances, set aside prejudices, and change what keeps us closed in on ourselves. As long as we move ahead, we see God in everything and thereby sense a greater unity with God who is all. As we travel on the path of love, we give away the fruits of our contemplative gifts. We also sing songs of God's love and praise, which, as Newman suggests, seem to always echo in our hearts: Review for Religious Praise to the Holiest in the height And in the depth be praise; In all his words most wonderful, Most sure in all his ways! Some Contemplative Scripture Points 1. "If you, with all your sins, know how to give your children good things, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him." Luke 11:13 2. "No one knows the Son except the Father and no one knows the Father except the Son -- and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him." Luke 10:22 3. "There are different gifts but the same Spirit; there are different ministries but the same Lord; there are different works but the same God who accomplishes all of them in everyone. To each person the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good." 1 Co 12:4-7 66.4 2007 ELISSA RINERE Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life T time spent in preparing this article was, quite nesdy, a personal spiritual journey. One difficulty has been that every aspect of Christian life is a reflection of the Eucharist. The Eucharist "speaks" everything. It is all-encompassing. A dilemma arises, whether to begin with some reflections on the Eucharist and then find reli-gious life within them, or begin with some reflections on religious life and then come to a focus on the Eucharist. One author I read stated the situation very well. Eucharist implies coherence: it brings all the disparate elements of the church into unity, tending to one end, one goal, one truth.~ Religious life finds its coherence here. In canon law the Eucharist has different aspects: the celebration of the Mass, the sacrament to be received, and the sacrament reserved in a tabernacle for adoration. We can consider what these three aspects might mean in relation to our way of life in the church. Elissa Rinere CP, a canon lawyer, is Coordinator of Pastoral Planning and Director of the Office of Worship of the diocese of Norwich, Connecticut. Her address is 7E Westchester Hills; Colchester, Connecticut 06415. Review for Religious We begin by making two observations. First, the Eucharist is larger than religious life. The goal of being a eucharistic community is the goal of everyone who shares in the sacrament-of baptism. It is the mandate given to us in the Gospels. Second, the vision of what would be if we could give a pure response to this awesome mystery is different from the practice that we human beings come up with at various times in history. The vision is celestial and the practice is terrestrial. Our challenge is to bring these two things into harmony. The Eucharist as Celebration Yesterday. When I was in grade school (a public school), my friends and I went to Sunday Mass "religiously." We would, however, sit behind the stairs in the back of the church and have contests about who could find the old-est saint in the pages of our St. Andrew's Missals. We paid attention to Mass only at the consecration, when the bell rang. From behind the stairs we could not see the altar, but we did stop talking. No matter how poor our behavior, we were sure that we were fulfilling our Sunday obligation just by being there. The prayer belonged to the priest, and the people watched. Today. We say today that theology emphasized the "confection" of the Eucharist and now emphasizes "cel-ebration.'' 2 The most august sacrament is the Most Holy Eucharist in which Christ the Lord himself is contained, off-ered, and received and by which the church continu-ally lives and grows. The eucharistic sacrifice . . . is the summit and source of all worship; it signifies and effects the unity of the people of God and brings about the building up of the body of Christ. Indeed, the other sacraments and all the ecclesiastical works of the apostolate are closely connected with the Most Holy Eucharist and ordered to it. (Canon 897)3 66.4 2007 Rinere ¯ Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life 388 In speaking of the Eucharist today, we would probably use the terminology of this canon, since it comes directly from the documents of Vatican Council II. The Eucharist is Christ himself. In the celebration we have the source and summit of all the church's life. That is, everything we do comes from and is brought back to the Eucharist. Every celebration is an action of the whole church. Every celebration is a sign of, and brings about, the unity of the people of God. The liturgy is the exercise, not only of the ordained priesthood, but also of the baptismal priest-hood. There was quite a journey from the focus on the confection of the Eucharist to the current focus on cel-ebration. Journey. Celebration of the Eucharist was, according to reputable authors, one of the most hotly debated top-ics of Vatican II. The manner of celebrating Eucharist is important in itself, but also because it brings a specific image of the church into existence. That is, the Eucharist is not merely a ritual; it is a creative force within the community. It is the way we express and create what we believe to be the true nature of the church. Singing our hearts out and saying the rosary fervently give different images of the church. The work of the Vatican Council to revise the cel-ebration of the Eucharist Was looked on by many as the work of the devil, an error bordering on heresy, which would destroy the church and turn us all into heretics. When the new rite of the Mass was implemented on 30 November 1969, some protesters poured red dye into fountains around Rome as a sign of mourning. "The waters of Rome run red, just as the waters of Egypt were transformed into blood" at the death of the firstborn.4 The celebration of the Eucharist became a rallying point for those opposed to the reform of the church because liturgical changes were the most obvious evi- Review for Religious dence of the reform. The council's Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum concilium, SC) is a marvel of compromise, especially in the areas of language, music, and lay participation . Concerning language, the use of vernacular was encouraged, but Latin was to remain in use (SC §36). Forms of music other than Gregorian chant were encouraged, but Gregorian chant was to be retained (SC §116). Even the musical instruments native to a given country were to be employed, but the pipe organ was to retain "pride of place" among them (SC §120). Regarding lay participation, there was to be some dis-tribution of ministries within the liturgy. In the theology of confection, the priest functioned virtually alone. In the theology of celebration, there were to be authentic litur-gical ministries for the laity in virtue of their baptismal priesthood. This was objected to by those who feared an inappropriate equalizing of the two priesthoods, with lay ministries obscuring the "subordinate" nature of the bap-tismal priesthood. The revised liturgy was seen by many as an abuse of authority that removed from the church's faithful any obligation of obedience. The changes were described as "the tearing of the seamless robe of Christ, which is the church's unity.''s The best-known opponent of the liturgical renewal was Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre, who established the Society of St. Pius x in the 1970s. He wrote in 1974: "We close our ears to the destructive novelties now found in the church.''6 Through the pontificate of Paul VI, the liturgical renewal continued to move forward despite objections. The Eucharist is not merely a ritual; it is a creative force within the community. 66.4 2007 Rinere ¯ Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life Later on, there were several instances of a slowing of the renewal. Some would say there has been a "pulling back" from some of the foundational principles of the reform movement. In early April 2007, an item on the Catholic News Service website announced that a policy was in the works to restore some use of the Tridentine Mass in the whole church. (It was being used only by permission of diocesan bishops.) The article said that the restoration was aimed at "ending a liturgical dispute which has simmered in the church for more than twenty years" and thus bringing greater unity. [Benedict xvI issued the document on July 7, 2007. (ed.)] Why have I brought up all this history? I did it to point out that the celebration of Eucharist--the source and summit of the church's life--has been a hotbed of controversy, not just for decades but for centuries, and that we manage to go forward only through dialogue, discus-sion, and compromise. Little by little, despite difficulties, the celebration is becoming more diverse, more incultur-ated, allowing for more and more differences of opinion. From all reports, liturgical changes will continue to be announced. Pope Benedict, in the apostolic exhortation recently published, mentions the possibility of the Sign of Peace being moved to some other spot. And, of course, there remain difficulties concerning the new translation of the Roman Missal, which is a topic for another day. Connection to Religious Life The theological vision of the Eucharist as celebration is the unity of the church. The church, of course, is all the people of God, all the baptized. For religious life, then, within this great vision is the goal of unity toward which we progress through our human practices. In contrast to the vision, ways of celebrating the Eucharist keep disturb-ing some. Forty years ago it was a tug-of-war between Review for Religious traditionals and progressives. Today a new element has been added: those who find the Eucharist unacceptably clerical, exclusionary, hierarchical, or rigid. For these peo-ple, Eucharist is often a painful experience of oppression rather than a time of prayer and unity. Hopefully they find better experiences elsewhere. All these points of view on the celebration of the Eucharist are found in some religious communities. Can Eucharist be a point of unity in them? It depends, I think, on whether people are willing to compromise for the sake of one another. This becomes, then, a question of ecclesiology. Religious life is called to be prophetic in the church. What visions of the church are present in our communi-ties? We constantly seek practices of celebration that will bring us closer to the theological vision of unity. °- Inasmuch as the practice of the Eucharist as cel-ebration has continually moved forward, has never stagnated, and has always sought better balance between conflicting prin-ciples by becoming appro-priately inclusive and diverse, it is, in my opinion, mirrored in religious life. We can see ourselves reflected in the evolu-tion, the tensions, the struggles to do the right thing. If the Eucharist is not at the heart of our unity, but rather a point of strife and division, we should discuss not the Eucharist, but rather what it means to be church, prophet, and peacemaker. Where we do not dialogue and do not discuss, compromise, forgive, and accept what we might not prefer for the sake of the common good, the Eucharist itself may not help much. Eucharist is often a painful experience of oppression :rather than a time of prayer and unity. ,391 66.4 2007 Rinere * Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life Eucharist as Sacrament to Be Received Why discuss receiving the received Eucharist sepa-rately from celebration? Besides having some distinct characteristics, reception has undergone some signifi-cant developments. In today's theological vision, it can be described as multilevel communion: inner communion with Jesus and intercommunion with all others who share the Body and Blood of Christ. Yesterday. Those who recall the early years of the 20th century before Vatican II may have observed some people receiving Communion rather rarely. Only priests distributed Communion, and only the consecrated hosts were distributed, not the chalice with the precious Blood. Returning silently to their places in the pews, communi-cants knelt reverendy and, bowing their heads, communed adoringly with the Lord they had just received. Receiving Communion was an act of public and private devotion. Today the changes are clear. Receiving Communion is frequent. Few people stay in their places and refrain from receiving. "Extraordinary" Eucharistic ministers are com-mon. Communicants may receive in the hand or not, and Communion under both species is common. Receiving Communion is a natural consequence, of being present at the celebration. The 2002 General Instruction of the Roman Missal describes the distribution of the Eucharist as a procession in which part.icipants come forward as a community, sing, and receive Communion. Sharing in Communion is to actualize the Eucharistic community and also to foster a personal relationship with Christ. Not long afterwards the Eucharistic community is dismissed with the commission to be Eucharist to those they encoun-ter. St. Augustine is often quoted as writing "Receive who you are, and be the One you have received." The "energy" surrounding the reception of the Eucharist has changed from being personal and inward Review for Religious to being outward, communal, ministerial, and unifying. Receiving the Eucharist commissions us to inner prayer, but also to the service of others--to be bread broken. Our service of others comes from our unity in Christ. Journey. The history of the liturgical renewal focuses on practices and attitudes. In the history of the Eucharist as sacrament, the two most universally accepted innova-tions were the reception of Communion in the hand and the distribution of Communion by the laity. These were never really wanted by the church authorities who were regulating the reform. In 1968 the bishops of Belgium and Germany asked permission to experiment with Communion in the hand because it was a faster method of distribution. When the experiment ended three years later, the people refused to give up the option. Finally, in 1974, all efforts to eliminate the practice were stopped. With some similarities, extraordinary ministers have been reluctantly permitted to function since 1969. As late as 2006, official documents have reminded the whole church of how "inappropriate" this ministry is for the noncleric. Catholics still feel more comfortable with receiving the Eucharist as an act of personal devotion. Witness the difficulties of implementing the liturgical principles connected with the Communion procession: People do not sing, many still rush the line, many leave the church early. I suggest also that people are not enthusiastic about "Eucharist received" as a commission to ministry. Nor are people quick to realize the unity fostered by their sharing in the Body and Blood of Christ. Religious Life. From my experience of religious com-munities, I have the impression that many religious pre-fer the personal and devotional aspects of receiving the Eucharist to the ministerial aspects--the outward ser-vice- and only afterward the unifying aspects of being 66.4 2007 Rinere ¯ Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life "Eucharist received:'; is certainly re qected in the service every Christian renders to others. part of the Eucharistic community. There is a tendency, after personal devotion, to be more invested in service to others than in service to one another in our religious communities--even though service to community mem-bers comes, of course, from our being united by our shar-ing in the Eucharist. "Eucharist received" is certainly reflected in the service every Christian renders to others. However, Eucharist received also should be reflected in those rela-tionships which are closest. For instance, within families the Eucharistic bond is intended to be effective-- real--between spouses and parents and children. This Eucharistic bond forms the "domestic church" that is at the heart of mar-riage. For religious, the Eucharistic bond must be at the heart of commu-nity relationships--a true force holding the community together. Most women religious no longer live in large institutional settings where they would form the daily Eucharistic community at Mass. Nowadays the unify-ing force of the Eucharist, wherever members share in it, should find its .first and most clear reflection at home, where we live with each other. Discussion, or any way of reflecting in community life the Eucharist as sacrament received, would best not focus on the Eucharist as such, but on the quality of our com-munity life, the Eucharistic character of our relationships with one another. What are the Eucharistic characteristics of relation-ships? What are the Eucharistic characteristics of com-munity relationships? How do we call one another to Review for Religious be Christ for each other in community? W-here is the Eucharist we receive effective in our communities? Groups that grapple with questions like these do not seek clear and definitive answers. Rather, they seek bonding, shar-ing one another's weaknesses, failures, successes, foibles. Perhaps being Eucharistic means forgiving and accepting rather than getting things right. If we can struggle with these kinds of questions, with this level of honesty, we will experience our religious life as mirroring our "Eucharist received." Our reception of the Eucharist will inspire an expanding vision; our act of private devotion will seek fulfillment in service to others and unity with those closest to us. Eucharist as Object of Adoration Let us now consider the Eucharist as an object of adoration. This aspect of the Eucharist has a significant history in the church, although such devotional practices as benediction and exposition did not develop until the 12th century or later. Historically, Eucharistic devotions originated as ways to safeguard and emphasize the doc-trine of the Real Presence. Benediction, exposition, and processions were theologically inspired rites intended to confirm the faith of the faithful on this point. The Real Presence, of course, suggests adoration. And theological vision sees adoration as finding a ritual completeness in celebration and other worthy activity. Nourishment from the Eucharist gives strength for carrying out apostolic action. Yesterday. Again, older people will recall the not uncommon practices of concluding Mass with benedic-tion or having exposition during Mass. Every parish had its time for Forty Hours Devotion. The architecture of churches called attention to the tabernacle and the Real Presence. Today we are seeing some resurgence of tradi- 66.4 2007 Rinere ¯ Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life 396 tional devotions, even a return to traditional architecture. But is it merely a return of what was, or has there been some degree of transformation? Today. In his recent apostolic exhortation Sacramenturn caritatis, Pope Benedict speaks of the intrinsic relationship between Eucharistic adoration and Eucharistic celebra-tion. He says the relationship is much more clearly seen since the liturgical renewal brought about by Vatican II. He refers, of course, to the years it has taken to find a bal-ance between the Eucharist seen in celebration and recep-tion, and the interior and personal aspects of Eucharistic devotions and adoration. Journey. Vatican II set out the basic principle that devotional practices are to "harmonize with the liturgi-cal seasons, accord with sacred liturgy, [be] in some way derived from it, and lead the people to it, since in fact the liturgy by its very nature is far superior to any of them" (SC §13). Echoing this principle, Pope Benedict calls ado-ration of the Blessed Sacrament a "natural consequence" of the celebration, which "intensifies all that takes place during the celebration itself" (§66). Devotions that do not relate to the celebration of the Eucharist, that do not call to mission and community and lead back to the celebra-tion of the Mass, are incomplete. That is, adoration is completed by outward relationships. Consider for a minute that a part of the renewal sur-rounding eucharistic devotions concerned the placement of tabernacles in churches. An instruction published in 1967 stated the principle of why tabernacles should not be on the altar: In the celebration of the Mass the principal modes of Christ's presence to his church emerge clearly, one after the other: first he is seen to be present in the assembly of the faithful gathered in his name; then in his word, with the reading and explanation of Scripture; also in Review for Religious the person of the minister; finally, in a singular way, under the eucharistic elements. Consequently, on the grounds of the sign value, it is more in keeping with the nature of the celebration that, through reserva-tion of the sacrament in the tabernacle, Christ not be present eucharistically from the beginning on the altar where Mass is celebrated. (Instruction E~¢charisticum mysterium, 25 May 1967, §55) From that one principle came the years of wrangling over the placement of tabernacles in churches. The argu-ments went from on or off the altar to in or out of the sanctuary, from the body of the church to a side chapel. No clear consensus ever emerged, so now all disputes are settled by the diocesan bishop. The questions on tabernacles are relate~l to how peo-ple understand the Eucharistic presence of Christ in the Mass and the various other modes of his presence in the celebration of the Mass. Before Vatican II, Eucharistic devotions acknowledged the Real Presence in the taber-nacle and tended to ignore the other modes of Christ's presence. It seems these devotions had to disappear while the community became more familiar with the presence of Christ in the assembly, the word, and the priest; and the tabernacle had to move so we would find Christ in one another. Now we see a resurgence of Eucharistic devotions in many parishes and religious houses. This resurgence could be a regression to what was, inner adoration for its own sake, or it could be a reworking or a reweav-ing of the inward and outward aspects of the presence of Christ. Pope Benedict said in the apostolic exhortation: "If suitably updated, traditional Eucharistic devotions are worthy of being practiced today" (§68). In other words, insofar as the traditional Eucharistic devotions are united to and balanced with the celebration of the Mass, both are enriching. If either branch of Eucharistic expression loses 397 66.4 2007 398 Rinere * Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life touch with the other, the mutual enrichment is frustrated. If the inner life of adoration does not enrich the outward impulse to service, the fullness of the Eucharistic reality is lost. If the outward impulse to service is not personal-ized by an inner adoration, the fullness of the Eucharistic reality is lost. This balance between inner devotion to the Real Presence in the Eucharist and outward service to the Real Presence in others is the goal for all Christians. We undertake action for justice when Christ is really present for us in one another. Religious Life. At the time of the council, the Eucharistic life of the church had not changed in a long time. The council presented the challenge of renewing and updating our Eucharistic worship and devotions so they reflected a balance between inner tradition and outward action. Now hear that again, with some words changed: At the time of the council, religious life had not changed in a long time. The council presented the challenge of renewing and updating our way of life so that it reflected a balance between inner tradition and outward action. Those who entered our communities in the 1960s happily and gloriously threw off old trappings of reli-gious life as we moved into the 20th century from the 17th, 18th, or 19th. In my own community we jettisoned what kept us inward, cloistered, separated from the world around us. Just as Eucharistic life of the church seeks the balance between tradition and progress, religious communities need the same cautious pursuit. Thus, discussions about Eucharistic adoration .might really be about whether our way of life is or is not balanced between tradition and progress. In the past forty years, have we progressed well in all things? What did we remove from our lives and why? Did we eliminate anything that we need now to hold us Review for Religious together? Did we erase anything that spoke clearly of who we are and what we are about? How can we more. effectively weave past, present, and future together? I do not know the answers to these questions, but wouldn't they make for some interesting conversation at community gatherings? There is much talk these days about women religious being "invisible" in the church. There is much mutter-ing about traditional communities having many vocations while progressive communities do not. Can the struggle to find a balance between inward Eucharistic adoration and outward service be instruc-tive here? Religious life, too, seeks a path of fidelity. We have looked at three aspects of the all-encompassing topic of the Eucharist. Regarding Eucharist as celebration, Eucharist as sacrament received, and Eucharist as object of adoration, we traced some struggles of the last forty years. Can we see ourselves reflected in the mystery which is the "source and summit" of all Christian life? Are we celebratory despite our differences? Can we compromise for the common good? Are we Eucharistic in our deal-ings with one another within community? Are our lives a good balance between tradition and progress, between adoration and action, between yesterday and tomorrow? Looking into such questions would bring Eucharist to the center of the room. It would become more clear to us that the source and summit of the church's life is the source and summit of our lives as well, for "the other sac-raments and all the ecclesiastical works of the apostolate are closely connected with the Most Holy Eucharist and ordered to it" (canon 897). Notes ' Paul Quenon ocso, "The Eucharist: Symbol of Coherence," in The Sacraments: Readings in Contemporary Sacramental Theology, ed. Michael Taylor SJ (New York: Alba House, 1981), p. 145. 399 66.4 2007 Rinere ¯ Eucharist Mirrored in Religious Life 2 Joseph Powers SJ, "Eucharist, Mystery of Faith and Love," in Taylor, Sacraments, p. 119. 3 Code of Canon Law: Latin-English Edition (Washington, D.C.: CLSA, 1999). 4 Annibale Bugnini, The Reform of the Liturgy: 1948-1975 (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1990), p. 289. 5 Bugnini, p. 280. 6 Bugnini, p. 294. 7 See Bugnini, pp. 640-661. 400 Fool's Gold Golden moon of year's end, fiat in the sky, sliding, shrouded, out again, high. No denomination marks its face-- not harvest or prairie, blue moon or silver: no song or moan just moon, alone. But I, contented, lie under this wintry sky chewing on pieces of winter moon tasting of June. Eilee~ Haugh OSF Review for Reli~ous A. PAUL DOMINIC The Christ Child, the Father of the Man For all the humbleness of Christ's birth as Luke portrays it, there is no denying the glamour of Christmas, however people perceive it and adapt theinselves into it. It was so at the first Christmas. The shepherds, the Magi, and Herod all behaved differently. The yearly Christmas in our days smacks of different traditions in differ-ent places. Also, the glamour in church is differ-ent from that of the market; people are attracted or repulsed. But surely there is room for some new traditions, if only they are sensitively cre-aged and sensibly introduced. To start with, however, it is worth discerning what is definitely good and downright bad in the usual responses to Christmas. One may contrast here the experience of Christian children with that of the secular publicJ Christian children celebrating Christmas have an innocence and A. Paul Dominic SJ wrote for us earlier this year, in our 66.2 issue. His new address is Human Development Centre; Port Mourant; Corentyne; Guyana, South America. Jesus and Mary 401 66.4 2007 Dominic ¯ The Christ Child, the Father of the Man 402 insight worthy of the true splendor of Christmas, reveal-ing it particularly in their mirth, as G.K. Chesterton has noted. The same thing cannot be said of the merely sec-ular Christmas, an expensive seasonal festival in winter attracting all and sundry. If the commercial Christmas catering to compulsive spending mars the innocent glam-our of Christmas, recent campaigns for the abolition of even the word Christmas would achieve a mere mimicry of Christmas devoid of mirth and glamour. Common among Catholics (at least in India) is another scenario, one they are fond of. Although they are not ignorant of the basic truth of Christmas, they are not well enough informed to appreciate, much less appropriate, the genuine glamour of what they celebrate. They have remained more or less with the same glimpse of Christmas as they had in their childhood. Their enjoy-ment of Christmas has remained stuck in the categories of the child-mind, that has however lost its intuitive spiritual ~ision. So they almost make an idol of the Christ Child, or at least diminish him in their own eyes. Such a rou-tine and even stunted devotion readily becomes a cult of the Infant Jesus carried on throughout the year, even during Lent and the Easter season. Such a popular cult with its unholy accretions--not the least of which is the mushrooming of miracles reminiscent of those reported in the apocryphal gospels--has prospered in India and caused Infant Jesus shrines to be built that attract not only Christians but also Hindus and Muslims. In such vagaries or caricatures of piety, one cannot but suspect something unwholesome and un-Christian. An illustra-tion of this would be a simple Hindu asking a Catholic if the Infant Jesus is a God different from the Christ on the cross. One may compare this to what a biblical scholar says about the Christmas crib. He does .not deny Francis of Assisi's contribution to Christmas when he made the Review for Religious first creche to illustrate the infancy gospels, but he says: "One can appreciate that enormous contribution and still be obliged to wonder whether, through fostering maud-lin sentimentality, the crib/creche might in certain circum-stances become false to the main theological purposes of those narratives." 1 Surely, then, the devotion to the Infant Jesus can-not follow the ancient apocryphal fervor or the modern materialistic route, but must derive, as always, from divine inspiration. The litur-gical inspiration based on Scripture has a pri-mary place. As the old saying goes, lex orandi, lex credendi (the law of prayer is the law of belief). The populaF Infant Jesus devotion has got it wrong,, pro-moting the supposed -- saying of the Infant Jesus in an apparition: "The more you honor me the more I will bless you." This reflects the gosPel tradition regarding Jesus' infancy only minimally. On the other hand, the liturgy, with its true springs of devotion, spreads out the mystery of Christ during the year, including the annunciation to Mary and the birth of her Son, his passion, death, resurrection, and ascension, and the coming of the Holy Spirit. Such thinking is in line with what the pristine church came to discover before the close of the first century. After pondering the Lordship of Christ revealed in his death and resurrection, it came to realize his Lordship at his very birth. The early Christians intuited, as shown in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, that Christ was the Lord at his birth, indeed, at his very coriception. John The devotion to the Infant Jesus canno't follow the ancient apocryphal fervor or the modern materialistic route. 66.4 2007 Dominic ¯ The Christ Child, the Father of the Man 404 made bold to say that the only-begotten Son of God became flesh, to be identified as Christ. Inheriting the full intuition of the evangelists faithfully enough, every gen-eration of Christians must learn to embrace the whole of the mystery of Christ. The only way open to us is that we reverse the way the first generation traversed, beginning where they ended and ending where they began. What they could understand only backwards, from the end, we start from the beginning. So we may frame a question as follows. Knowing that Christmas is not a self-contained mystery suitable for children and guarded by conservators, how can adult Christians celebrate and enjoy it for what it is, namely, an incipient open-ended mystery? A simple answer, already hinted at, is that we ought to be forward looking, developing an eschatological sensitivity. An initial clue may be found in Luke's telling of Christ's birth as following upon John's. At his birth John was very special to his parents and even their neighbor-hood. For all that, however, their focus was on the future; they wondered, "What will this child be?" That was the way they were interested in him as a unique individual of exceptional worth and grace. "For the hand of the Lord was with him" (Lk 1:66). However glorious he was at his birth, reminiscent of Isaac, Samson, and Samuel, it was no more than a measure of his future. Rightly, then, his father Zechariah gave voice to the unanimous expecta-tion of his neighbors, uttering a prophecy about his long-awaited son: And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sins. By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Lk 1:76-79) Review for Religious In the story of Jesus, too, the same pattern of inter-est is noticeable. When Jesus was born and the news was made known to others, the focus was on what was to follow. If the shepherds told the details of the newborn child, it was not to glorify him in his swaddling clothes and perpetuate him in the manger; rather, the minutiae surrounding him were signs of what he was destined to be. Born a savior, he would prove himself a born savior, though one of an unexpected sort: he would save his peo-ple from their sins. The infant Savior was then and there no perfect Savior, if one may dare put it that way, for he was to become perfect in time's due course. Explicitly averring so in an early passage (5:8-9), the Letter to the Hebrews expatiates upon it later: When Christ came into the world, he said, "Sacrifices and offerings you have not desired, but a body you have prepared for me; in burnt offerings and sin offerings you have taken no pleasure. Then I said, 'See, I have come to do your will, O God.'" . . . When he said above "You have neither desired nor taken pleasure in sacrifices and offerings and burnt offerings and sin offerings," then he added, "See, I have come to do your will." He abolishes the first in order to establish the second. And it is by God's will that we have been sanc-tified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. (Heb 10:5-10) Besides Savior, another title of the infant Jesus was King, both in Luke and Matthew. The glory of any infant king lies in his future. So when the Angel Gabriel announced to Mary God's plan for her, he did not con-fine himself to remarks about the pleasant or miracu-lous details of Jesus' birth or status; rather, he went on to describe intently his purposeful destiny. Born in the line of King David, he would himself be a king in his own right, but, unlike David, would exercise his king-ship without end. Something of that future both King 405 66.4 2007 Dominic ¯ The Christ Child, the Father of the Man Perhaps no mature mother could be absorbed totally in the present affairs of her child without being future oriented. 406 Herod's fear and the faith of the Magi foresaw, and they acted accordingly only to prove in different ways the last-ing kingship of him who, however, could exercise it only when he came of age. For all her motherly adoration of the Christ Child, Mary was not wholly occupied with his existence as a bun-dle of wonder. Right from her conception of this child, she was forward looking even as she became involved with him and treasured her immediate experience of him. Even in the first flush of her motherhood, she was left wondering what her child was going to be, especially after hearing what the visiting shepherds had to tell her about him. As she gazed at him in her arms, she also kept peering into whatever was emerging about him indicative of his future. A highly significant occasion was her meeting with Simeon. Hearing .his utterance, glorious and yet strange, about the destiny of her child for the rising and falling of many in Israel, she could not rest content clinging to Jesus only as to the son of her womb. Going beyond her motherhood, she had to set her eyes on the prophetic figure that he was to grow into, fulfilling the expectations of her own people. Perhaps no mature mother .could be absorbed totally in the present affairs of.her child without being future oriented, especially as the child grows out of childhood. Mary was led to visualize her Son's future right from the start by the divine intervention she recognized in her-self and the shepherds and the Magi and Simeon and, Review for Religious of course, her own Son, especially on his first visit to the temple. One may well say that almost every event in her life had a way of transporting her from her present involvement with her Son to the oncoming scenario of his life. Her life with her Son consisted, then, in detecting and discerning God's designs for him. It was an experi-ence of not merely seeing her Son with her wondering eyes and cherishing him as her own flesh and blood in homely surroundings. More than that, it was a matter of her perceiving him beyond space and time and so seek-ing an understanding of him as the grown man he was becoming. If ever the child is the father of the man, it was uniquely so in the case of her Son, Jesus. Such an ¯ understanding could not be given or received by flesh and blood. In her own way but also in the light of her Son's ever revealing Abba, who was and is and will be, Mary pondered the mystery of her child, whether suckling or growing and maturing. If there was a time when people knew Jesus only in the flesh, it could not continue that way; it had to cease sooner or later (see 2 Co 5:16).2 And Mary, his mother, would have learned this early, though it seems she never learned it enough. That is why, at certain junctures, she did not understand her Son's words and deeds. Her Son was deepening her understanding and her consolation. It is a credit to her that she continued to ponder what was occurring.3 The babyhood, childhood, and youth of Jesus were passing stages in more ways than one. He grew--continued to grow--in age, wisdom, and grace. If Mary was not unaware of her Son's growth, she could be stunned at times by what seemed a sudden growth and awareness. This.concerned his unique relationship with his Abba, even to the point of letting his earthly parents become deeply worried about him when we was twelve, at the dawn of his Jewish adulthood. All the rest of his life 407 66.4 2007 Dominic ¯ The Christ Child, the Father of the Man 4O8 stoW told in the Gospels, including his passion, death, and resurrection, was an unfolding of that initial appreciation of his Abba's delight. It is in this light that at Christmas we can hear the whisper of the Father to his Son: "You are my Son; today I have begotten you" (Ps 2:7). Later, of course, we hear "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased" (Lk 3:22). Anyone who does not cherish such a perspective of Jesus even while being engaged in contemplating his childhood misses in no small measure the mystery that he is. The great mystery of our religion is indeed pre-cisely he, the kind of person he was and is. It is multipolar mystery touching many stages of his life, one leading to the other not only step by step but by leaps and bounds. An ancient hymn sang it thus: He was revealed in flesh, vindicated in spirit, seen by angels, preached among Gentiles, believed in throughout the world, taken up in glory. (1 Tm 3:16) Revelation of him in the flesh is indeed Christmas and Christmas gloW. To appreciate it fully, all three elements in the description--the person revealed, the fact of rev-elation, and the mode of revelation--must be weighed and valued. Perhaps John does this best and so he can say, "The Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glow, the gloW as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth" On 1:14). This glow, of course, is the gloW of his entire life. St. Ignatius, till sometime after his conversion, was not an enlightened believer. He came to be blessed with enlightenment, however, as he matured in the faith. He shared his experience in his practical notes that became the classic Spiritual Exercises. There he proposes a con- Review for Religious templation on Jesus' birth in which he helps retreatants not to miss the fullness of the Christmas mystery. He points out that, if the Lord is born in great poverty, it is so that, after many hardships such as hunger, thirst, heat, cold, injuries, insults, and so forth, he may die on the cross.4 The church discovered such a spirit and introduced it in its way of praying. It nurtured it in a simple way through the Angelus. Reciting it three times a day, any-one-- child or adult, peasant or professional, artist or scientist--can learn to be at home with the full mystery of Christ. The three antiphons and three Hail Marys recall the mystery of joy at Christmas and associate us with Mary, who knew that joy as no one else. The conclud-ing prayer begins again with the annunciation/incarna-tion only to lead to the mystery of the passion, cross, and resurrection. There is no better way of doing homage to Jesus at any time, even Christmas. The Story of the Other Wise Man by Henry Van Dyke teaches all this in another way. With the proverbial three wise men, a fourth one, named Artaban, plans to visit the newborn Jewish king. He sets out with three gifts for him: a sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl. But, on the way to the agreed place of meeting, he finds a sick traveler lying alone on his desert path. He stays with him to nurse him to health. That prevents him from reaching his friends in time. Left alone, he sells his sapphire to provide him-self with the necessary caravan for the journey. When he reaches his destination, he finds sadly that the family of the baby king has fled from Bethlehem to escape Herod's murderous plans. To the house where he is staying, sol-diers come to slaughter a child, and he gives his ruby to them and saves the terrified mother and child. Setting out again, he travels far and wid

Issue 65.2 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Franciscan Legacy Vocation Religious Implications The Spirit QUARTERLY 65.2 2006 evtew Religtous sters.dia e,.wztl~,, Go dialogue~ with ourselves; anddialogue accordingto cba~s:~of CatboUc reli~o~'l~(~ As Pope Paul I satd~ our way of bet!g church Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University, by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ \~el) site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2006 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must hear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for comlnercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only he considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 0 religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff. Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Phili'o C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mar~ Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Ciare Boehmer ASC Stephen Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.2 2006 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 138 franciscan legacy Custodians of Franciscan Households Michael Blastic OFM enters us into the meaning of Franciscan fraternity through developing three elements: 1) a life lived in brotherhood, 2) experienced in a household, and 3) qualified with patience~ Questions for Reflection / Group Discussion Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist Regis J. Armstrong OFMCap centers his reflections on the .spirituality of Francis of Assisi by focusing on five passages of Francis's writings that d, eal with Eucharist. vocation 153 159 Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation Julius D. Leloczky OCist invites those following the special call to religious life into a prayerful meditation on the role of Mary as model and mentor. Prayer Just Because I Said So Mary Joseph Schultz SCC considers the importance of commitment and what it means "to give one's word." Personal Reflection / Group Conversation l~eview for Retigious 166 177 r O ji us imp ic io s Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? Vimal Tirimanna CSSR reflects on his experience as major superior and as president of the Conference of Major Religious Superiors of Sri Lanka to share his concern for the proper use of afithority. Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious Brendan Kneale FSC clarifies identity for men and women as embracing two dimensions, personal and social, which are mutually supportive. 186 spiri Led by the Spirit: Julian of Norwich Andrew Ryder SCJ notes the central role of the Spirit in the writings of Julian of Norwich. The Holy Spirit is the dynamic, active agent who brings us into communion with the life of Christ and the Persons of the Holy Trinity. epar rn n s 202 Scripture Scope: The Miracles of Jesus 206 Cdnonical Counsel: The Importance of Procedural Law 211 Book Reviews 65.2 2006 prisms do we think of when we hear the word service? We quickly rush to the n0tion of activity--what we do, how we act, how we spend our days and perhaps even our nights. But in our Catholic tradition service and to serve God have a far richer meaning than just activity. We find the first and foundational stage of service in a traditional saying, "They also serve who only stand and wait." By way of contemporary example, we notice that the esteemed waiter at table is the one who watches and is attentive to what is needed by the people dining. Such a waiter spends a lot :of his or' her time just "watching and waiting." In a similar way, the Christian who wants to serve God should spend a lot of time "watching and waiting." A good part of the watching and waiting is identifiable as praying. It is the prayer of one who listens to God--a God who is speaking in his revealing word, a God who speaks through his human messengers, a God who speaks through nature and through events. A person who listens is one who is obedient, for the roots of the word obedience lie in listening. The young Samuel in scripture describes his listening in the phrase, "Here I am, Lord." In the sacramental oi'dination of ministers, such listening is caught by the expression "ready and willing." It is the attitude of Jesus before the God he calls Abba. The second stage of service is made evident in the stance of surrender. It is the giving over of ourselves to. another in love. As Catholics we are being invited to enter Christ's eternal stance of surrender that is celebrated in every Eucharist. Jesus sacramentalized his total gift of self to God and to us in the giving of his body and his blood at the Last Supper. Historically, that gift was made especially in his passion and death. But the risen Jesus continues to invite us to enter into his eternal stance of surrender in every Eucharist we celebrate. For us, our surrender is measured by all the discrete moments of our life. We might say that, nourished by Jesus' body and blood, we are living "into" our surrender. Finally we come to thai stage of service whose mean-ing we think we have exhausted when we describe activ-ities. It is true that there are many ways of serving as a Christian, and these services are an essential element of living our faith. A faith that is not lived out in action is no faith at all. It is noteworthy that Protestants have often described their Sunday worship as services. Although we Catholics have ordinarily not used this designation, the Mass truly can be identified as a se~'vice, and it contains all the stages of service that we have described. The Liturgy of the Word certainly demands all of tls to be obedient, to be listeners, to be people ready and willing to be formed and directed by God's word. In the Liturgy of the Sacrament we are invited to enter into Jesus' eternal stance of surrender, and we come forward at communion time to ratify that gift and so experience our increasing identity with Christ by letting him be our daily bread. And every Eucharist sends us forth with the mission to share our faith and ~o serve God and his people. At the Last Supper Jesus asked all of us to claim our identity with him by following his example--he signified this by a particular activity as he washed the apostles' feet. Whatever our activities, following the risen Christ, we are identified as "ones who serve." . David L. Fleming SJ ,117 65.2 2006 franciscan MICHAEL BLASTIC Custodians of Franciscan Households legacy In a Newsweek web article posted on MSNBC, Melinda Henneberger wrote that "Katrina has reminded us that Christian morality should be about responding to the wretched and loving the unlovable--not about other people's sex lives" (14 September 2005). While the United States describes itself as a Christian nation, in the aftermath of Katrina we have seen that this label is deceptive. Citing Bill McKibben, "The Christian Paradox" (Harper's, August 2005), who pointed this out, she wrote that American practice really rewards dependency, and so it is better to hold on to your cash. McKibben himself reported on a poll concerning religious practice in the United States. He noted that only four in ten Americans can list more than four of the Ten Commandments, and only five in ten can name the four Gospels. He said that these Michael Blastic OFM presented this paper on Franciscan brotherhood at a province meeting in November 2005. His address is The Franciscan Institute; St. Bonaventure University; St. Bonaventure, New York 14778. Revie~ for Religious statistics really do not matter, but what does matter is that three out of four think the Bible teaches that "God helps those who help themselves" (actually a proverb of Ben Franklin's). Approximately 85 percent of Americans identify themselves as Christian, with about 75 percent claiming they pray to God daily and 33 percent going to church weekly. McKibben points out a number of paradoxes. We are second to last among developed countries in government foreign aid; nearly 18 percent of American children live in poverty--here we come in last among the rich nations-- and 26 percent of households lack sufficient food. We are the most violent rich nation on earth, with a murder rate of four or five times that of Europe. We have prison populations five or six times Europe's rate. We are the only Western democracy that executes its citizens; our marriage breakup rate is more than half, and higher than Europe's. tf one measures Christian identity by Jesus' teaching of helping the less fortunate, we come off poorly indeed. ~ Given these statistics, McKibben argues that Americans have replaced the Christianity of the Bible with another creed which ignores Jesus' radical and demanding focus on the other--"Love your neighbor as yourself." Jesus made it clear who the neighbor is--the poor person, the sick person, the naked person, the hungry person. "On and on and on--a call for nothing less than a radical, voluntary, and effective reordering of power relationships, based on the principle of love," to quote McKibben. I know I am not reporting something you do not already know. But I believe that this social context of North America as described by McKibben, visible in the unjust social reality revealed in Katrina's aftermath, is important for reflecting on our Franciscan life. In fact, 1119, 6~. 2 200~ Blastic ¯ Custodians of Frandscan Households such a social context was the occasion for Francis of Assisi's conversion. Here I want to be very clear. Francis of Assisi's conversion was not explicitly, and primarily religious. It was a movement from a social order base& on the creed "God helps them who help themselves" to a social order based on sharing and sacrifice and "Love your neighbor as yourself"--in other words the creed of Jesus. In his conversion Francis first and foremost experienced what it means to be human, and what it implies for social life. The Franciscan movement results from Francis and the brothers learning what is required for human beings to flourish as God intends. From the opposite perspective, it is the medium of fraternity that is the message. A Franciscan fraternity evangelizes to the extent that it embodies human flourishing on the personal, social, and ecclesial levels. First I will describe briefly the early Franciscan experience and vision of fraternal life, and then I will suggest how this may help all of us live our lives as brothers. :120 A Place for Human Flourishing I would describe Franciscan fraternity in this way. I~ is (1) a life lived in brotherhood, (2) experienced in a household, and (3) qualified with patience. I deduce these elements from the Rule of 1223, the Rule that we profess as our form of life. (1) It was the Italian scholar Raoul Manselli who identified Francis's encounter with lepers as the turning point in his conversion. As Francis records in his Testament, that encounter radically rearranged his values and led him to leave the commune of Assisi in order to live with those lepers. He was drawn out of himself so that he could see, perhaps for the first time in his life; the reality of human beings who according to the definitions Review for Religious of life in the commune of Assisi simply did not exist. There was no place in Assisi for the unclean, the unworthy, the unholy, the unbearable, the unlucky, the untouchable, and the unloved. Encountering these suffering human beings, the lepers, Francis showed them a merciful heart. He looked at ., , them and touched them, he stayed with them and shared life with them, he comforted them and served their needs. And Francis tells us he did not do this for himself. He did not go to the~lepers to make himself better. He did not use . them as objects in an ascetical exercise to overcome himself (though this is how hagiographers will understand it). Francis gives the credit for this experiential truth to God: "The Lord led me among them, and I showed them a merciful heart" (Test 2).1 With God's nudge, Francis recognized the lepers as brothers and sisters, as creatures of the same God, as having equal dignity in the eyes of God the Creator. While Assisi's values and practice denied this truth, Francis was led into it by God's grace (what was bitter became sweet), and 'he left Assisi to live among these newly discovered brothers and sisters. Leaving the world of Assisi, Francis ~hus stepped into God's world--creation--where everything was estab-lished by the Creator in relationship. This is the truth that he would later celebrate in the Canticle of the Creatures. Creation sings, creation flourishes, simply by being what it was created to be, by being in relationship with all that exists. In his Testament Francis says, "The Lord gave me some brothers" (Test 14). Experienced as the reality of relationship as established by the Creator, brotherhood is Francis did not go to the lepers to make himself better. 121 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households embodied in the rule in terms of obedience. According to chapter 2 of the Earlier Rule, after those who come have given everything to the poor as they were able, and after the year of probation has ended for them, "they may be received into obedience" (LR II:l 1). Once received into obedience they may not wander "outside obedience" (ER II: 10). The rule speaks of obedience as a place, the space into which the brothers are received. While monks are received into a monastery after their novitiate probation, Francis's brothers are received into obedience. Obedience becomes a synonym for the space in which the brothers live. What characterizes obedience then is that it is the space of relationship, One could substitute the term relationship for the term obedience throughout the early Franciscan writings and not change the meaning of the texts. The relationships of brotherhood define the space in which the brothers live. This is especially significant given that the rule understands the brothers to be itinerant, even though by 1223 this was beginning to change somewhat. Brothers began living in convents in cities. Brotherhood, then, or better our relationships as brothers, is what defines the space in which to live our life according to the Rule. And, as Francis makes clear, brotherhood is only possible if one. turns toward the other, only if one gets out of oneself and willingly places oneself in relationship to the other. This turning toward others is the basis for contemplation in the tradition; it does not imply separation or solitude, but rather engagement and an ecstatic way of being in the world. A second defining element of Franciscan fraternity is Franciscan mission. After lepers, probably the most recognized symbol of Franciscan life is San Damiano and the speaking crucifix. While this story~appears rather late in the hagiographical tradition (1246), it expresses a fundamental purpose of Franciscan life. Francis received a Review for Religious mission to repair God's house, which was being destroyed: "Francis, don't you see that my house is being destroyed? Go, then, and rebuild it for me" (L3C 13). While in the past we translated those words from the Legend of the Three Companions too simplistically as "Rebuild my church," the hagiographical tradition consistently uses the term house in accounts of this event. And, while Francis initially understood that invitation from the cross to mean the broken-down building of San Damiano, he would come to understand that the mission was rather one of repairing a space in which Frariciscan ' holiness was experienced domestically, the. lives of men and women who have been~.broken and destroyed as human beings can be rebuilt and flourish. House and family are central to the brothers' experience of the Christian life. Their relationship to God is expressed in terms of the household. For instance, in the Second Version of the Letter to the Faithful, we read: And the Spirit of the Lord will rest upon all those men and women who have done and persevered in these things, and it will make a home and dwelling place in them. And they will be the children of the heavenly Father, whose works they do. And they are spouses, brothers, and mothers of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are spouses when the faithful soul is united by the Holy Spirit to our Lord Jesus Christ. We are brothers, moreover, when we do the will of his Father who is in heaven; mothers when we carry him in our heart and body through love and a pure and sincere conscience; and give him birth through a holy activity, which must shine before others by example. (2LtF 48-53) Here we can see that for the early Franciscans holiness was experienced domestically. This suggests two things: 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households 124 (1) we are family with the Trinitarian God we believe in, and (2) our relationship with this God is accessible and lived in the ordinary, everyday experience of domestic life. This is an important characteristic of Franciscan .practice, and suggests family life and not church life as the means for working out our way to God. How does Francis envision rebuilding God's house? Bonaventure's insight in his Major Legend of St. Francis is right on the mark here. He comments that, after receiving this mission in San Damiano, he eventually moved to St. MaiT~ of the Angels; he "lived there in order to repair it" (LMj II:8). The repair of God's house is not so much the action of preaching or teaching. The repair is accomplished by life in brotherhood itself, by living among and with brothers and sisters. The term conversatio is used to describe this "living among" in two places in the Early Rule. Francis encourages the brothers to rejoice when they "live among (quando conversantur inter viles . . .) people considered of little value and looked down upon" (ER IX:2); and "they can live spiritually (possunt duobus modis spiritualiter inter eos conversant) among the Saracens" (ER XVI:5). Using the Latin word conversatio, the root of the term conversation, the Rule envisages life as a conversation, and depends on the monastic sense of conversatio as manner of life. The brothers' manner of life is thus to be conversational--sharing life with brothers and ~isters in this conversational manner rebuilds the house of God. In another text of the Later Rule, this conversation is described more concretely: I counsel, admonish, and exhort my brothers in the Lord Jesus Christ not to quarrel or argue or judge others when they go about in the world; but let them be meek, peaceful, modest, gentle, and humble, speaking courteously to everyone, as is becoming . Review for Religious Into whatever house they enter, let them first say: "Peace to this house!" According to the holy gospel let them eat whatever food is set before them. (LR III:10- 12, 14) Here we see how for the brothers the mann(r of being with others is the primary means for accomplishing the mission, and is itself the message. The gospel is about life, a way of life, a way of being with and relating to others with the peace that is God's gift freely given in Jesus. The brothers simply speak the gospel honestly with everyone, beginning with one another. But, before the brothers can speak the word of the gospel, they must live the word of the gospel. Here recall the emphasis Celano gives to this fact in his Life of St. Francis, "[Francis] was no deaf hearer of the gospel" (1C 22). Coherence of life and message is the norm. The brothers' honest conversation and engagement with the world and people invites recognition of the presence of the kingdom already in their midst. Conversation, though, is a skill that must be learned, and many of the prescriptions of the rule that describe behavior in a negative way can be read as impediments to the quality of conversa'tion that the brothers engage in as part of their mission. This understanding of household and conversation can be seen in chapter 6 of the Later Rule. There poverty is described as "not making anything one's own" and living as "pilgrims and strangers in this world" and "never seeking anything else under heaven." After describing the brothers' poverty this way as modeled on Jesus Christ, "who made himself poor for us in this world" (LR VI:3), the Rule spells out the implication of this poverty for the life of brotherhood: Wherever the brothers may be and meet one another, let them show that they are members of.the same family. Let each one confidently m~ke known his need 125 65.2 2006 Blasac ¯ Custodians of Frandscan Households to the other, for if a mother loves and cares for her son according to the flesh, how much more diligently must someone love and care for his brother according to the Spirit! (LR VI:7-8) Literally the Rule suggests here that the brothers should demonstrate that they come from the same "household," the same family (ostendunt se domesticos invicem inter se). Thus, having nothing, living itinerantly, and desiring only this, the brothers can be at home in their relationships. The brothers should feel at home in the love and. care they have and express for one another. Poverty is the condition for brotherhood. This is an important consideration because poverty can dehumanize. Rebuilding God's house implies offering an alternative to the dehumanizing effects, of poverty. Today we can include everything from forms of work, to abuse, to social structures. The life of brotherhood should provide for humanizing relationships, expressed in turning toward others in their real needs, and their responding with real and mature care. This house is built by God's Spirit as a place where human beings can flourish. Our fraternal life is meant to help human beings prosper, grow, and thrive as "human persons fully alive" and thus to fulfill our mission to repair God's house. A third dimension of fraternal life has to do with what it means to be human. For me, this knowledge comes with the.stigmata of Francis. The stigmata involves unanswered questions. Thomas of Celano in his Life of St. Francis supplied the time, place, and context for the event of the stigmata, but while doing that he was much more interested in unraveling its meaning. Celano recounts that, while at La Verna two years before his death, Francis "saw in the vision of God a man having six wings like a seraph, standing above him, arms extended and feet joined, fixed to a cross" (2C 94). Celano's words suggest that Francis's vision was of a human person taken up into God, burning with desire (like a seraph), and crucified. They suggest the divinization of the human person. Celano is not describing history here. He is interpreting an event whose full meaning was beyond history. He understands the stigmata as demonstrating the fullest potential of being human embraced by God in the incarnation. In Jesus, God embraced the human condition with all of its limitation, fragility, weakness, and vulnerability and, in this embrace of the human condition, revealed God's own divine nature. I.n other words, the crucified flesh of Christ revealed the nature of God. The event of the stigmata reveals both the meaning of God and the meaning of Jesus Christ's human nature. The humanity embraced by Jesus is the same as Francis lived, to the point of knowing it in his own wounds. Marked with the wounds of Jesus, Francis becomes the leper, an icon of the crucified Jesus. Celano says: "While he was unable to perceive anything clearly understandable from the vision, its newness very much pressed upon his heart. Signs of the nails began to appear on his hands and feet, just as he had seen them a little while earlier on the crucified man hovering above him" (2C 94). Francis becomes what he sees, that is, what he has been seeing from the moment God turned him to the lepers to contemplate humanity there as a living icon of Jesus Christ, crucified and fixed to a cross. What does it mean to be human, then, for the early Franciscans? It means to embrace th~ full reality of the human condition as frail, weak, fragile, and vulnerable, and even scarred and wounded. The human person is an image of the Lamb who was slain, who carries even now in glory the scars of the passion. Being scarred and wounded like Jesus is not about imitating Jesus' suffering and pain on the cross. Rather, it is the consequence of t)27 6~.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households self-sacrificing love, of being totally for others, without holding anything back: To be truly human means to bear patiently the human condition of weakness, fragility, and vulnerability. In the stigmata Francis demonstrates that it is possible for a human being to be Godlike, to love as God loved, to be totally and completely for the other, and in addition he demonstrates that human persons are capable of compassion, human persons are capable of bearing the pain of.the other. This, it seems to me, is what the Rule describes as the action of the Spirit of the Lord in one's life: I admonish and exhort the brothers in themLord Jesus Christ to beware of all pride, vainglory, envy and greed, of care and solicitude for the things of this world, of detraction and murmuring. Let those who are illiterate not be anxious to learn, but let them pay attention to what they must desire above all else: to have the Spirit of the Lord and its holy activity, to pray always to him with a pure heart, to have humility and patience in persecution and infirmity, and to love those who persecute, rebuke, and find fault with us. (LRX:7- 0) The eight vices that are listed at the beginning of this text are social vices; they have to do with how one relates to others and to the things of this-world. These vices describe one who is living "from the outside in," that is, one whose meaning and behavior are determined by things, by social position, by prestige, power, and clout, all of which lie outside a person. The Rule admonishes the brothers to a life of poverty, having nothing of one's own and desiring nothing more than the action of God's Spirit. They are not to live from the outside in, but from the inside out, by expressing the Spirit of the Lord in outward behavior. The Spirit transforms us flesh and blood into an image of Jesus, the suffering servant of God. Review for Religious Another way of expressing the action of the Spirit here is in our bearing with everyone and everything in patience and humility. The Saying on True and Pe,fect ffoy, recorded as a conversation between Francis and Leo, says that, as they arrive back at the Portiuncola one night, they are refused entrance because of the time of day and because they are stupid and not needed. They are told to go to the Crosiers for lodging. Francis says that, "if I had patience and did not become upset, true joy as well as true virtue and the salvation of my soul would consist in. this" (TPJ 15). The experience of the 'presence of God so transforms human existence that even persecution and sickness become ways to follow Christ. The experience of the Spirit of the Lord thus expresses itself in patience. The Latin term patiens indicates a willingness to endure or undergo something, to be capable of bearing hardship; it implies that one is vulnerable, able to be wounded. For Francis, patience is an attribute of God. In the--Praises of God, written shortly /. after he experienced-ffie sugrnata on Mount La Verna, he says to God: "You are love, charity; you are wisdom, you are humility, you are patience, you are beauty, you are meekness, you are security, you are rest" (PrG 4). Francis sees Jesus as the face of God, who made himself vulnerable in this world, who exercised patience through life and death. But it is the incarnation even more than the passion and death that Francis looks to, because in the incarnation Jesus put himself into the position of weakness, frailty, vulnerability, and limitation Francis sees Jesus as.the fa~e of God, who made himself vulnerable in this world, who exercised patience through life and death. 6~.2 2006 Blastic * Custodians of Franciscan HouseboMs and. in this revealed the full potential of being human, showing that the acceptance.of human vulnerability is salvific. Here the Rule gets to the heart of Franciscan fraternity because it challenges the brothers to be simply human, to live from the inside out, to be patient in suffering and sickness, to be vulnerable and open to the other, in short, to follow the footsteps of Jesus Christ. Authentic human life can flourish in Franciscan households that are built by brothers who turn toward each other, who engage in honest conversation as a way of life, and who patiently embrace their humanness in weakness, fragility, and vulnerability. Guarding the Franciscan Household The term "guardian" does not appear in the text of the Rule of 1223. It will appear inAater writings such as the Letter to the Entire Order and the Testament. No job description can be found in the early Franciscan writings, but it is understood that as guardian a brother exercises a ministry among brothers on the local level. What the Rule says about the ministry of "those brothers who are the ministers and servants of the others." (LR X:I) certainly applies to guardians. They are to "receive [the brothers] charitably and kindly and have sufficient familiarity with them that these same brothers may speak and deal with them as masters with the servants, for so it must be that the ministers are servants of all the brothers" (LR X:5-6). The ministers must deal with the brothers as family. While this quality of service must characterize the ministers, those who are subjects must also live the sacrificial nature of obedience in their relationships with the ministers and others. This sacrificial quality of obedience. Francis learned from Jesus, especially in his agony in the garden as described in the Second Version of the Letter to the Faithf!~k Rt.view for Religious Then he prayed to his father saying, Father, if it can be done, let this cup pass from me. And his sweat became as drops of blood falling on the ground. Nevertheless, he placed his will in the will of his father saying: Father, let your will be done; not as I will, but as you will. His father's will was such that his blessed and glorious son, whom he gave to us and who was born for us, should offer himself through his own blood as a sacrifice and oblation on the altar of the cross: not for himself, through whom all things were made, but for our sins, leaving us an example that we might follow his footprints. (2LtF 8-13) Jesus' obedience to his father was a struggle to say yes to his father's will, and this is really the only thing Francis says about the passion. Francis never speaks of the pain or suffering of the crucified Jesus, as if the entire passion took place in Jesus' struggle to accept his Father's will. And the Father's will, as Francis describes here, is that Jesus be completely for, others, that Jesus be for us. The passion is about struggling to be for others, and thi~ brings us back to the very nature of what it means to be brother. The brother is one who turns toward others, who is totally for others without holding anything back for himself. This js true obedience, because it is the fulfillment of what it means to be in relationship with others. Given this general sense of service, caring for the Franciscan household might be practiced in the following ways, I. I began with the common American Christian belief and practice that "God helps those who help themselves," a creed that can affect us in various ways. This creed is not authentically Christian, and it is eminently un- Franciscan. It supports behavior and practice that become destructive of God's house. All the brothers are responsible for calling each other to lives of genuine other-centeredness, to lives of authentic obedience 131 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households experienced as fraternal relationship, and to the poverty of having nothing as one's own. Interdepehdence rather than radical independence, mutuality rather than self-centeredness, arid healthy need rather than the fullness of isolation are true qualities of fraternal life. This kind of fraternity is not a given, nor achieved easily or quickly, but remains the goal toward which we live. The guardian's task of caring for fraternal life implies attention to the absence or presence of creeds that conflict with real fraternal life. II. One hard-to-retrieve aspect of fraternal life today, given our institutional structures, is itinerancy. Francis and his brothers lived as pilgrims and strangers in this An important itinerancy !sAhab., while moving abbut; W~ are .s.t.ill at home with each o her: ° world. They were itinerant brothers, literally. They were "houses" on the road--perhaps medieval versions of mobile homes! Itinerancy was a clear aspect of Franciscan identity in contrast to monks--monastic institutions were terrified of wandering monks, called gyrovagues in Benedict's Rule. The. monastic ideal was stability, and part of the difficulty of fitting mendicants into the structure of the church had to do with their itinerancy. The friars were often perceived mistakenly (?) as monks gone bad. How do we recover that dimension of our life? Perhaps by recovering the meaning of itinerancy as metaphor--by not remaining fixed in one place, by taking different perspectives on the same reality, by always being on the way without ever believing that we have arrived, by not claiming the center for ourselves, and so forth. It is easy to get bogged down in our ministry or work, and to Review for Religious disconnect ourselves from the fraternity for reasons of ministry or work, though there can be valid reasons for this. An important aspect of itinerancy is that while moving about we are still at home with each other; our friaries are parts of a much larger provincial fraternity. For fraternity to be healthy and life-giving, it has to be on the move, never settled into stubborn custom or settled convenience or old fears of anything new o'r different. The fraternity must be on the move in a metaphorical sense in order to stay healthy and focused on its purpose. The fraternity has to be kept on its toes, and the guardians' care for households is an appropriate way of keeping the brothers on the move. III. As we have seen, Francis's mission to repair God's house had to do with the quality of human life. It had to do with a style of life or conversation that was inclusive, respectful, honest, and engaging. Conversation does have guidelines. In his book Plurality and Ambiguity, David TracT says: "In conversation we find ourselves by losing ourselves in the questions provoked by the text. We find ourselves by allowing claims upon our attention, by exploring possibilities suggested by others" (p. 19). He suggests some guidelines for honest conversation: ' Conversation is a game with some hard rules: say only what you mean; say it as accurately as you can; listen to and respect what the other says, however different or other; be willing to correct or defend your opinions if challenged by the conversation partner; be willing to argue if necessary, tQ confront if demanded, to endure necessary conflict, to change your mind if the evidence suggests it." (pp. 18-19) To paraphrase Tracy in Franciscan language, we might say that, to have an honest conversation, one must act according to the real d~mands of being brothers in relationship, one must be for the other in honesty, in 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Frandscan Households integrity of life, in respectful listening. But Tracy's words, too, have already described the dynamic of a healthy fraternity. Real fraternal life is possible only if the brothers can have honest conversations. This is a real challenge because I can be so convinced of my truth that I cannot hear anyone else's truth. Conversation brings into play the truth about being human that Francis witnessed to in the stigmata--being vulnerable, being able to be touched by another, It takes much effort and practice to engage in honest conversation of this kind. Well worth the effort, the honest and earnest conversation in my fraternity will affect the quality of my presence and ministry outside the fraternity. Honest conversation iwfraternal life will also improve another central aspect of our life together, our prayer. To move beyond communal vocal prayer to faith sharing or shared prayer, honest conversation is important. If I cannot engage my brothers in honest conversation, how will I share my faith deeply with others. Perhaps there is a correlation between the friary chapters that demand honest conversation about life and ministry and the friaries that have much, or at least some, quality faith sharing. While the guardians cannot force this to happen, they can'challenge the brothers to develop friary chapters as an exercise in honest conversation. Moving from honest conversation into shared prayer is a logical and easy step. IV. Perhaps the best description of the guardians, given this description of Franciscan life, is that they are mentors. They support, challenge, inspire, and foster discernment of what is true, worthy, and life-giving among the brothers. You can find. a fine description of the mentor in Big Questions, Worthy Dreams by Sharon Daloz Parks (Jossey-Bass, 2000). She describes a mentoring Review for Religious environment as one that "can and necessarily must assist in creating norms of discourse and inclusion that invite genuine dialogue, strengthen critical thought, encourage connective-holistic awareness, and develop the contemplative mind" (p. 142). Sounds like a tall order, but we have all experienced a mentoring environment. Franciscan fraternity is similar to what she describes: "Mentoring environments are communities of imagination and practice. Humanizing practices, as we use the term here, are ways of life, things that people do with and for each other to make and keep life human" (p. 154). Parks describes three practices of a mentoring community: (1) the practice of the hearth, that is, places that invite reflection and conversation and times for doing this (hopefully the chapter provides this); (2) the practice of the table, not something that Franciscans have problems with generally, but is table time really a priority, or do we do what most Americans and families do today, simply eat on the run and alone in order to get on to something else? (3) the practice of the commons, a place where people meet and share their interdependent lives, a practice of learning how to stand with each other over time. That is a description of the recreation room, "a place within which to confirm a common, connected life. ¯ . that conveys meanings and orients purpose and commitment" (p. 157). Practices .like these facilitate fraternal life and build up the Franciscan household. For me, the religious genius of Francis and the early brothers lies in their ability to appreciate and value the human as the religious. The brothers understood the Gospels as showing us what it means to be really and simply human as brothers and sisters in contrast to social structures that are often antihuman. To be a healthy human brother or sister is to be a holy human person. Our way of being human is the message Francis was 6~.2 2006 Blastic * Custodians of Franciscan Households called to share. God's house is repaired and renewed in brotherhood and sisterhood, where human .life in its weakness, fragility, and vulnerability is embraced and celebrated and endured and supported in patience and healthy relationships, and where honest conversation is practiced and promoted. This is the vision of fraternal life that the early Franciscan writings set out. By our common profession we are all responsible for seeking this goal. The challenge is, I believe, to live that common profession, not in an ideal place, but in the "space" of th~ brotherhood that God has given us. With his brothers, the guardian has to be an expert in being human in order to be an effective servant. The guardian is charged only with calling us to be faithful to what we say we are. The guardian thus invites and challenges us to be fully human and to flourish in fraternal life. The guardian cannot do this or be responsible for this by himself. It takes all of us just as we are in the: glory of our frail, weak, limited, and vulnerable humanity. Our life is not about rapid perfection. Our life is about truth, the truth of the gospel which we embody together as brothers following the example of Francis and his brothers, who simply tried to follow the footprints of Jesus. We are called to be brothers to our brothers, to turn toward each other, to engage each other in honest conversation, to embrace our own and our brothers' weakness, limitation, frailty, and vulnerability. Desiring nothing else but this, we are heirs of the .kingdom of heaven, the place God has created that we may flourish as human beings! (see LR VO. May God give us peace! Review for Religious Note 1 All citations of the early Franciscan writings and of the Franciscan hagiographical texts in this paper are taken from Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, Vol. 1, The Saint, and Vol. 2, The Founder, edited by Regis Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William Short (New York: New City Press, 1999 and 2000). Questions for Reflections / Group Discussion 1. Michael Blastic OFM was addressing guardianship in a particular Franciscan Province. What elements from his presentation do I find applicable to my own life? 2. What do I need to do to make practical in my way of living some of his reflectiOns on livihg together? 3. Have I ever been mentored by someone? If so, what are the effects of my being mentored? Have I ever considered my owr~ role of being a mentor? What would I need to do ? gently her fingers his head against her lap wherein he rested once before held now between her bloody l~ands her head bentover her task carefully removing the thorfis the skin pulling, resistant, bleeding a little even now gently her fingers so as if not to hurt him she winces as the thorns come out Sean Kinsella 65.2 2006 REGIS J. ARMSTRONG Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist I~ was Pope Paul VI who first used the word harisms" officially in the context of consecrated life.1 He did so in his apostolic exhortation of 29 June 1971, Evangelica~ testificatio, ~11, where, in writing about "the charisn{s of founders," he echoed the teachings of chapter 5 of Lumen gentium and those of Perfectae caritatis and, in doing so, challenged consecrated women and men to focus on their unique gifts to the church. Even the most casual observer of the history of consecrated life notices that, since the Second Vatican Council, the vocabulary of consecrated religious is far more conscious and respectful of particular charisms and, among these, the followers of Francis of Assisi are noteworthy. Part of the reason for the Franciscan preoccupation with their unique charism or charisms is a curious difficulty in arriving at objective knowledge of the ever Regis J. Armstrong OFMCap, editor, translator, and author, first presented these reflections on 31 January 2005 to the faculty, staff, and students of the Theological College of The Catholic University of America, where he is a professor: 220 Curley Hall; Washington, D.C. 20064. Review for Religious popular Francis of Assisi. Until the late 1970s much of our knowledge of Francis's spirituality was mediated through the hagiographic literature that surrounds him. Significantly, the 14th-century Little Flowers of Saint Francis was-~-and perhaps remains--the most widely read source for popular knowledge of the 13th-century saint. Strangely, firsthand acquaintance with the saint was limited to three, possiblyfour,'of his writings and, was only broadened when in 1976 a critical edition of his thirty-eight known writings was published and quickly translated.2 "Deceptively simple" is one way of describing those texts. While some might dismiss them because of their transparency, or view them as irrelevant because of their historical context, Francis's gospel insights continue to challenge those who study them, and their timelessness seems to draw an increasing number of reader~. The task before me is to reflect on what the spirituality, let. us say the "charism," of Francis and his followers might offer to priests and others. At this time of Eucharistic emphasis, it seems appropriate to focus on five passages of Francis's writings. The first of these, a short, fundamentally liturgical prayer, appears in the last of the saint's writings, the Testament. In it he recalls the earliest days of the Franciscan fraternity. The second is taken from a set of documents that Francis wrote upon his return from the Islamic world in 1220. The third comes from a collection of writings' that elude dating but reflect a more mature Francis who has come to grips with what gospel spirituality consists of. The remaining .two seem to have been written during the last year of his life. Three prominent gifts emerge in these writings: the gift of faith, the gift of the Spirit, and the gift of the priesthood, three gifts that form a prism through which to gaze upon the Eucharist. I offer you this prism convinced that Francis's writings envision a Eucharist-centered life and, for a 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist priest, one that is defined by v~hat he does each day: celebrate what is at the very heart of his life. The Gift of Faith Francis's Testament, written in stages toward the end of,~his life, opens with a set of reminiscences that many see as defining his vision¯ After speaking of his embrace of a leper, the beginning ofhis life of penance, he describes ., o his life of faith. ,!'And the Lord gave me such faith in churches that I would simply pray and speak in this way: "We adore you, O Lord Jesus Christ, here and in all your churches throughout the world, and we bless you, because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.'" The early biographers Thomas of Celano and St. Bonaventure maintain that he later taught this prayer to his very first followers. The prayer is ecclesial and soteriological in nature, expressing as it does an understanding of the role of the church in the accomplishment of redemption. Those familiar with the liturgical texts will recognize it as appearing in the Liber Responsalis of Gregory the Great, where it is an antiphon for matins on the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.3 In his Documenta Vitae Religiosae, the monk Arnulphe encouraged its recitation upon entering a church and approaching the (ross.4 What is distinctive, however, is Francis's addition: ". ¯ here and in all the churches throughout the world." His version of the antiphon brings us from the abstract church to a particular, here-and-now church and to those scattered throughout the world. True, Eucharist is not We are made aware,of Francis's understanding the church pla e of encounter or adoratiom Review for Religious present or even implied in the prayer. We are nonetheless made aware of Francis's understanding of the church as the place of encounter or adoration, that is, the sacred space in which the pray-er is reminded of the central place of the cross in our redemption. Curiously, Francis sees this practical, tangible gift of faith as something flowing immediately from the embrace of a life of penance. Should we follow his train of thought in this document, Francis suggests that his discoqery of God's presence began with his encounter with a leper and continued with his entrance into a church, where he discovered what was being asked of him. These Were indeed the first dramatic steps of his spiritual journey, from a chance meeting with the leper to ,his "stumble" into the church of San Damiano, where he discerned his ca|l, His biographers rightly suggest that the two are united, in the Franciscan approach to God, two essential elements on faith's journey,s ,~ Note the focused pragmatism of this passage. The Lord's gift of faith demands expression in the ordina~ day:to-day ebb and flow of life. Francis's faith expresses itself in reverence and respect for the sacred place, the sacred place of encounter. His companions later described him with a broom in his hand gathering the priests of an area and encouraging them to keep clean ,their churches, altars, and everything connected with ~the celebration of the divine mysteries.6 Afew years~ later, the Fourth Lateran Council (canon 20) and Pope Honorius III were to address this matterZ This theme of showing reverence for the place and the accoutrements of worship is easily seen in an exhortation he wrote to all the clergy.8 For years the only existing copy of this was one found in a 13th-century missal in the Benedictine monastery of Subiaco, which boasts of a visit Francis made there during a trip to Rome. This manuscript shows the influence of 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist the decrees of Pope Honorius encouraging implemen-tation of the Fourth Lateran decree. Recently, however, an earlier manuscript of the letter was discovered, one that may have been written before or immediately after the council and confirms Francis's insistence on reverence and respect fog churches and sacred vessels.9 In both exhortations a prominent theme emerges, the central place of the Eucharist. Although Francis never uses the word Eucharist, he does write of "the Body and Blood of the Lord," thereby suggesting the concrete way in which he regards the Eucharistic presence of Christ. "In this world," he writes, "we have and see nothing corporaliter [corporally] of the Most High except [his] Body and Blood, and the words through which we have been made and redeemed from death to life." In that light, it is difficult to ignore his repeated encouragement of respect and care for what we might consider the insignificant things of worship: reservation, cleanliness, decorum, even liturgical books.° Once again Francis's addition to that liturgical antiphon--"here and in all your churches throughout the world"--emerges, so'that we see a faith that is not cerebral or otherworldly, but practical and down-to-earth. Corporaliter! If the Most High chooses to come to us corporaliter, then we. must carefully respect the matters of our worship corporaliter, in simple specific ways. Francis repeatedly and simply calls his followers to be attentive to the details of worship. These are instruments with which God enables us to proceed, in Hugh of St. Victor's words, "from the visible to the invisible." The Gift of the Spirit This leads us to an undated set of Francis's writings: his Admonitions, a title that does not express well in English the nature of these twenty-eight teachings. Each "admonition" simply presents a few biblical passages or l~evie~ for Religious images and then some practical application to daily life. This form is a common catechetical tool used by medieval instructors in the faith.~° The first admonition begins with a series of biblical passages that initially seem unrelated unless they0are viewed as examples of "seeing and believing." Francis's starting point in this first admonition is the struggles of faith of the apostles Thomas~and Philip, given that God "dwells in unapproachable light,' and "no one has ever seen God." He proceeds to the role of the Holy Spirit, who enables them and us to see things differendy, to see with what Tl~omas F. Torrance calls the Spirit's "epistemological relevance." l~ In this .way Francis leads us into the very heart of trinitarian life--the Father looks upon the Son in the Spirit, and the Son looks upon the Father in the Spirit. Francis challenges us to understand what spirituality is, namely, a Spirit-filled life: All those who saw the Lord Jesus according to the humanity and did not see and believe according to the Spirit and the Divinity that he is the true Son of God were condemned. Now, inthe same way, all those who see in the form of bread and wine the sacrament that is consecrated [literally, sanctified] at' thd altar by the Lord's words through the agency of the priest, and who do not see and believe according to the Spirit and the Divinity that it is truly the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, are condemned. To be sure, the challenge of seeing and believing is prominent, but it is cast in the context of the Spirit and the Divinity. Many commentators on Francis's writings suggest that his vision of the spiritual life is besv defined by a simple statement found in his Rule: "Let [the brothers] pay attention to what they must desire above all else: the Spirit of the Lord and its holy activity." ~2 This being the case, the Spirit's activity in making Christ the center of our lives is primary and, in this instance, 143 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist 14'4 becomes the medium through which we gaze. upon Christ. The Spirit brings us to gaze upon Christ with "the eyes" of the Father and, by our conformity with Christ, to gaze upon the Father with "the eyes" of the Son. We are confronted with what Catherine Mowry LaCugna calls "the practical Trinity" and with Karl Rahner's words: "The economic Trinity is the immanent Trinity.''t3 Far mor~ simply, Francis understands the Spirit as calling us to look upon both the incarnation and the Eucharist in a trinitarian way, seeing the incarnate Lord Jesus and the Eucharistic Lord Jesus as the Father does, with.the eyes of the Holy Spirit. As Francis describes it in the first of his ~ldmonitiones, the Spirit's presence in our lives challenges us on three levels with each celebration of the Eucharist. It reminds us of the incarnation, with the Son's daily embrace of humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability: "Behold, he humbles himself each d~ay (Ph 2:8) as when he came from the royal throne into the Virgin's womb (Ws 18:15); each day he himself comes to us, appearing humbly; each day he comes down from the bosom of the Father (Jn 1,: 18) upon the altar in the hands of a priest." The Spirit's presence also prompts alertness to the revelation that comes from the Eucharist as well as from the incarnation itself: "As [the Son] revealed himself to the holy aposdes in true flesh, so he reveals himself to us in the same way in sacred bread." Finally, in light of this, the Spirit's presence fosters contemplation of the Eucharist with what Francis calls, in words reminiscent of Bernard of Clairvaux, ".spiritual eyes" 14: "And as they saw only his fleshwith their physical sight, yet believed that he was God as they conteInplated him with their spiritual eyes, let us, as we see bread and wine with our bodily eyes, see and firmly believe that they are his most holy Body and Blood living and true." , Revie~v for Religious These three sentences from Francis's Admonitiones provide insight into his understanding of a Spirit-filled life. We could concentrate on these thoughts about Jesus' humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability, or we could focus on his encouragement of "adoration," that primary Spirit-inspired activity which many commentators consider the heart of his theology of prayer. There is another, more noteworthy contribution, however, that Francis makes to Christian spirituality, one that gets overlooked: his concern that our lives be conformed to the Eucharist, that they somehow imitate the life of the Eucharistic Christ. Curiously, very little has been written about this, possibly because of that troublesome word imitation, a word Francis never uses and one that enters strongly into the vocabulary of Christian spirituality only in the 14th, not the 13th, century.15 The more common word for this was conformity. Bernard of Clairvaux says wonderfully that Christ is the form to which deformed man must conform in order to be reformed. One is called to bring one's form into line with the form that is Christ. In the spiritual literature of the time, this is brought about by the work of the Holy Spirit. Contemplation of Christ in the Eucharist, contemplation with "spiritual eyes," is primarily the Spirit's doing.16 In Francis's understanding of the call, the Eucharist demands the daily embrace of the virtues of humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability that the Incarnate Word lives and reveals each day. The Eucharist demands the daily embrace of the virtues of humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability that the Incarnate Word lives and reveals each day. 65.2 2006 Armstrong * Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist 1461 The Gift of Priesthood This brings us to selections from Francis's last two writings, the first of which is actually a return to Francis's very last, his Testament, with which these reflections began. After reflecting upon the gift of faith, Francis continues: Afterwards the Lord gave me--and gives me still-- such faith in priests who live according to the rite of the holy Roman church because of their orders that, were they to persecute me, I would still have recourse to them. And if I had as much wisdom as Solomon and found .impoverished priests of this world, I would not preach in their parishes against their will. And I desire to respect, love, and honor them and all others as my lords. And I do not want to consider any sin in them because I discern the Son of God in them and they are my lords. And I act thus because in this world I see nothing corporally of the Most High Son of God except his most holy Body and Blood which they receive and they alone administer to others. It is a rather curious statement coming from a man facing death, one that contains bits and pieces that tantalize biographers of Francis and historians of the Franciscan movement. There are sufficient anecdotes in the early lives of Francis to suggest that he was indeed ridiculed, abused, and demeaned. More significant are the number of papal decrees insisting that Francis and his brothers be given permission to preach, suggesting that doors were indeed being slammed in their faces. The dying Francis transcends all this and leaves as his legacy an example of "respect, love, and honor" for priests as those who are his superiors, his "lords." Once again that refrain surfaces: "I see nothing corporaliter of the Most High Son of God." Here it does so in reference to priests, who "receive. and administer to others" the most holy Body and Blood of the Lord. All Review for Religious that he may have endured--persecution, being taken advantage of, imposed on--is put into context. Francis refuses even to take notice of a priest's sin--that judgment, he maintains, belongs only to God--because of the priest's sacerdotal intimacy with the Eucharist, with the Body and Blood of the Lord. Naive? Simplistic? Challenging? In our day especially, these attitudes seem unrealistic and, in light of recent scandals, disingenuous. To understand them, we must turn to passages from the last and perhaps most beautiful of Francis's writings, one that almost certainly was written at the same time as his Testament, that is, at the end of his life. Only a man comfortable with himself could have written The Letter to the Entire Order. While clearly written by the "inspirational" figure of the brotherhood, by Francis himself, the letter does not hesitate to admit to negligence or weakness, to being "ignorant or unlettered" and "useless and unworthy." Many of its themes resonate with Francis's earlier writings, especially those on the Liturgy of the Hours and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. The maturity of Francis's Eucharistic spirituality, however, appears clearly in this passage: Kissing your feet, and with all the love of which I am capable, I implore all of you brothers to show all possible reverence and honor to the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, in whom that which is in heaven and on earth is brought to peace and reconciled to theall-powerful God. This comes from the Francis who a year or so earlier had the mystical experience of Greccio, where the Christ Child appeared in his arms. This comes from the Francis who shortly afterwards had that other mystical experience of Christ Crucified, which left him with the stigmata. This comes from the Francis who then composed one of the most mystical of all writings, The Canticle of Brother i147 65.2 2006 Armstrong * Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist 148 Sun, where his vision of the peace and reconciliation brought by Christ to all creation is expressed in remarkable poetry. In light of this, what follows is one of his most penetrating challenges: In the Lord I also beg all my brothers who are, or who will be, or who desire to be priests of the Most High that, whenever they want to celebrate Mass, pure themselves, they offer the true sacrifice of the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ with purity and reverence, with a holy and unblemished intention, not for any worldly reason or out of fear or love of someone, intending to please human beings. But, desiring by the sacrifice to please only the most high God himself, let every will be directed to God as far as grace makes possible because there he himself acts alone as he pleases. Here we see the call of the priest to live corporaliter in light of the life corporaliter of Christ now revealed in the Eucharist. The call to purity and to celebrate with purity, the call to be single-minded, and the call to have my every desire directed by God comes from an ongoing call to conversion. The example of the reverence of Mary, the Mother of God, and of the Baptist help bring that call to us. Francis's challenge is simple yet profound: "See your dignity, my brothers [who are] priests, and be holy because He is holy. As the Lord God has .honored you above all others by this ministry, for your part love, revere, and honor him above all others. It is a great misery and a miserable weakness when you have him present in this way and are concerned with anything else in the whole world!" Tree-Huggersmbut Much Much More What does Francis of Assisi, a medieval, Umbrian- Italian mystic offer to American priests in this vital endeavor? My good friend Luke Patrick O'Connell once Review for Religious teased me by characterizing Franciscans as "tree-huggers." Luke, however, was introducing a rather profound discussion on the theological concept of charism. He was attempting to draw me out on what the followers of Francis contribute today to the life and growth of the church. It is a good question, one with which I continue to struggle on many different levels. Pope John Paul once observed that what makes Francis of Assisi so appealing to people of all ages and cultures is his dominant image of God: the One who is all good. "It is what makes you optimists," he suggested, "and, therefore, prophets of hope." Francis's biographers Thomas of Celano and Saint Bonaventure wrote that "he savored in each and every creature, as in so many rivulets, the Fountain of Divine Goodness." In Francis's own writings, however, it is clear that he found God's goodness, the gifts of faith and of the Spirit, more and more overwhelming in the mystery of the Eucharist. In the light of that gift, the daily revelation of God's incredible goodness in his Son, the priesthood became for Francis a reflection of what Eucharist is all about: God's daily humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability. In a word, the Christ of the Eucharist defines the priest! One's sacerdotal character must be molded by the Eucharistic Jesus, who each day places himself in the hands of this priest. Clare of Assisi frequently comes to mind in pondering the mystery of a vocation. Clare begins her own Testament Francis found God's goodness, the gifts of faith and of the Spirit, more and more overwhelming in the mystery of the Eucharist. 1149 6Y. 2 2006 Ar~nstrong ¯ Francis~s Cbaris~n, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist reflecting on the role Francis played in that call. She writes: "Among the other gifts we have received and do receive each day, and for which we must express the deepest thanks to our glorious God, there is our vocation, which the more perfect and greater it is, the more are we indebted to him. Therefore the Apostle [writes]: 'Recognize your vocation.'" In her theology, the vocation is given anew each day and demands each day our most profound thanks. For a priest, Francis would add, each day that gift and that gratitude for the priesthood grow in intensity as the daily celebration of the Mystery of Faith ever so gently teaches the priest its meaning. Thus he writes: Let everyone be struck with fear, the whole world tremble, and the heavens exult when Christ, the Son of the living God, is present on the altar in the hands of a priest! O wonderful loftiness and stupendous condescension! O sublime humility! O humble sublimity! The Lord of the universe, God and the Son of God, so humbles himself that he hides himself under a little piece of bread! See the humility of God, brothers, and pour out your hearts before him! Humble yourselves that you may be exalted by him! Hold back nothing of yourselves for yourselves, that he who gives himself totally to you may receive you totally! Notes ~ Information on charisms may be found in Elizabeth McDonough, "Charisms and Religious Life," Review for Religious 52 (1993): 646- 659. Review for Religious 2 Die Opuscula des H1. Franziskus yon Assisi: Neue Textkritische Edition, ed. Kajetan Esser (Grottaferrata, Rome: Collegio S. Bonaventura di Quaracchi, 1976). This text was the basis for Francis" and Clare: The Complete Works, trans, and intro, by Regis J. Armstrong and Ignatius C. Brady (New York: Paulist Press, 1982). All translations from the writings of Francis and Clare are taken from this volume, though sometimes modified. 3 Gregory the Great, LiberResponsalis (PL 78,804). 4 Arnulphe de Boeriis, Documenta Vitae Religiosae (PL 184, 1177): "Deinde, veniens ad ecclesiam, pone manum super ostium, et dic: Exspectate hic, cogitationes malae, intentiones et affectus cordis, et appetitus carnis. Tu autem, anima mea, intra in gaudium Domini Dei tui, ut videas voluntatem Domini, et visites templum ejus. Sicque veniens ante crucem dic: 'Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.'" (Coming to a church, put your hand on the door and say: Wait here, evil thoughts, intentions, and inclinations of my heart and desires of my flesh. You, though, my soul, enter into the joy of the Lord your God, so that you may see the Lord's will and enter his temple. And so, coming before the cross, say: "We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you.") s See Franqois de Beer, La Conversion de Saint Francois (Paris: ]~ditions Franciscaines, 1963). 6 "Assisi Compilation" 60, in The Founder, Vol. 2 of Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, ed. Regis J. Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William J. Short (Hyde Park, New York: New City Press, 2000), pp. 162-163. 7 For the texts of both Canon 20 of the Fourth Lateran Council and Sane cure olim or Expectavimus bactenus of Innocent III, see The Saint, Vol. 1 of Francis of Assisi: Early Documents (Hyde Park: New City Press, 1999), pp. 53c. 55a. Hereafter The Saint. 8 See The Saint, pp. 54-55. 9 See The Saint, pp. 52-53. ~0 See Regis J. Armstrong, "The Prophetic Implications of the Admonitions," in Francescanesimo e Profezia (Roma: Laurentianum, 1986): pp. 386-464. ~ Thomas F. Torrance, "The Epistemological Relevance of the Holy Spirit," in God and Rationality (London: Oxford University Press, 1971), pp. 165-192. t2 For a full exposition of the theme, see Optatus van Asseldonk, "The Spirit of the Lord and Its Holy Activity," Greyfriars Review 5 (1991): 103-158. ,3 Karl Rahner, The Trinity, trans. Joseph Donceel (New York: Herder and Herder, 1970); "Remarks on the Dogmatic Treatise 'De 151 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Frands's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist Trinitate,'" Theological Investigations, Vol. 4 (New York: Seabury Press, 1974), pp. 77-102. 14 Karl Rahner, "The Doctrine of the 'Spiritual Senses' in the Middle Ages," Experience of the Spirit: Source of Theology, Vol. 16 of Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1983), pp. 104-134. ~s Edouard Cothenet et al., Imitating Christ, vol. 5 of Religious Experience series (St. Meinrad, Indiana: Abbey Press, 1974); Andr4 Rayez, "The Golden Age of Medieval Devotion: The Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries," in Jesus in Christian Devotion and Contemplation, vol. 1 of Religious Experience series (St. Meinrad: Abbey Press, 1974), pp. 44-85. ~6 This sentiment finds an echo in John Paul II's Dominicae Coenae: "Eucharistic worship., is precisely the expression of that love which is the authentic and deepest characteristic of the Christian vocation . A living fruit of this worship is the perfecting of the image of God that we bear within us, an image that corresponds to the one that Christ has revealed to us." Quoted in L'Osservatore Romano, English edition, 26 January 2005, p. 12. Palm Sunday Dear Lord, ride into my heart today on the stubborn mule of my own self-rule. These garments strewn along your way are the little things to which my will clings. 0 Christt. let your triumph be complete: let nothing remain proud, stubborn, or vain. I lie surrendered at your feet. Now, let my voice raise Hosannas of praiser. Agnes Cunningham SSCM Review for Religious ¯ JULIUS D. LELOCZKY Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation The great Carmelite martyr St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, better known as Edith Stein, wrote somewhere: "The imitation of Mary includes the imitation of Christ because Mary is the first Christian to follow Christ. Indeed, that is why the imitation of Mary is relevant not only to women but to all Christians." Let us meditate briefly on how religious life can be an "imita-tion of Mary." From all eternity Mary was chosen by God to be the mother of the Redeemer, and she was called at the annunciation. We, too, have been chosen and called: "God chose us in Jesus Christ before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him" (Ep 1:4). By this call and her response, Mary became a daughter of God in a special way; she became the new, obedient Eve. Just as Mary must have Julius D. Leloczky OCist joined the Cistercians in Hungary in 1953, later studied in Rome, and in 1964 was sent to the abbey where he continues to live: Cistercian Abbey; 3550 Cistercian Road; Irving, Texas 75039. 6Y.2 2006 Leloczky ¯ Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation wondered why was she chosen, we, too, can ask our-selves: "Why me? Out of the millions of people, why me?" The answer is that it is a mystery, the mystery of love. What happens to us is what happened to the rich young man: "Jesus looked at him, and he loved him" (Mk 10:21). The call of each of us is a call for a unique, spe-cial task, one that no one else can accomplish. Our response should mirror the love of the One who called us, but we are called not just to do a job; we are called to give a loving response. The call has, like a coin, two sides: we are called away from something and we are called to do something, called for something. From the moment the angel appeared to Mary, her whole life was changed. She was no longer her own person, she belonged to Someone else. We have been called away from the average or "normal" way of life, from starting a family, from having a civilian job, from having our own home, car, property. We have been called to a loving unconditional surrender, offering ourselves as Mary did: "I am the maidservant of the Lord. Let it be done to me according to your word." We have been called for a life-long adventure of love, and we do not know where this love will take us. As religious, we have been called to conceive the Word of God in our heart and soul. This conception is "virginal" because it takes place entirely between God and ourselves, without the intervention of anybody else. We have been called to give the Word of God, the Son of God, to others. We can do it only if first we ourselves have conceived Him, carried him in the womb of our soul, nurtured him, let him grow inside us, from our-selves-- if not from our flesh and blood, certainly from our personality. Just as Jesus must have had much like-ness to his Mother, the Word growing within us will take on our likeness. This Word, however, is not just an intel- Review for Religious lectual idea. It does not reside only in our intellect; it must penetrate our entire being, our whole existence. Disciples are not tape recorders to replay the words exactly as we heard them. Sifted through our personali-ties, God's words have to take on the special shade or tint of what we are as persons, just as the gospel of Jesus Christ is different from the pen of Mark and John. Mary's virginity was fruitful; the unmarried state of a religious also must be fruitful. Members of religious orders, when answering God's call to an unmar-ried way of life, do not choose to live in lifeless sterility. They do not give up either love, pas-sion, or motherhood or fatherhood. They just practice them in a dif-ferent way, living, by God's grace, their ability to love on a higher level. Their fruitfulness realizes itself in two ways. Like Mary, they become mothers of the Word of God, and mothers or fathers of many spiritual children. The birth of a child is preceded by birth pangs. No one expressed more dramatically the pain of giving birth to God's word than Jeremiah: "O Lord, you have deceived me, and I let myself be :deceived. You are stronger than I, and you have prevailed. I have become a laughingstock all the day. Everyone mocks me . If I say, 'I will not mention him or speak any more in his name,' there is in my heart as it were a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot bear it" (Jr 20:7,9). To give birth to God's Word is a painful but irresistible duty. It is painful to commu- Members of religious orders, when answering God's call to an unmarried way of life, do not choose to live in lifeless sterility. 65.2 2006 Leloczky ¯ Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation 1,56 nicate the Word to others; it is difficult to put Christ's message into human words, to pass on to others Jesus himself and not just our own ego. It can be painful to give Jesus to others, because some people will not accept him, will show a hostile attitude toward him and us, will resist and reject him and us. Yet we have to go on, to continue undeterred, remembering God's word to Jeremiah: "And I, behold, I make you this day a forti-fied city, an iron pillar, and bronze walls, against the whole land" (Jr 1 : 18). If we proclaim God's word, we become parents, and those who listen to us will become our children. This is so even in the case of contemplative religious. It is not by accident that St. Th~r~se of Lisieux has been chosen the patron saint of the missions. If we think back to our young years, we can recall some special persons in our lives whom we can consider our spiritual mothers or fathers. As we advance in age, the roles become reversed, and we should be spiritual parents for others. But it is a frightening realization that we proclaim the Word more by our deeds than by our words; our words and deeds should communicate the gospel message in perfect har-mony. St. Paul dared to set himself as a model for the early Christians. "Imitate me," he wrote. We may shy away from saying the same, but we know that our words will be credible only if they are lived and made a reality in our daily lives. Just as Mary was with Jesus at the wedding at Cana, so she is with us in our apostolic prayer and activity. When we are in any special need, she will tell her Son: "They have no wine." Just as in Cana, with the refined sense of a woman, a housewife, a mother, she perceives if something is missing, if there is a problem, and she will intervene. And, even if Jesus showed some reluc-tance first, Mary knows that her Son will help, and she Review for Religious will tell us to "do whatever he tells you." The interven-tion of the saints is powerful, but the efficiency of Mary's intercessory prayer is unparalleled. Just recall the words of the famous Memorare prayer of the great Cistercian saint Bernard of Clairvaux: "Never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection was left unaided." A mother's life is an unstoppable process of gradual separation from her child. Only during pregnancy can she have the feeling that the child is completely hers. After the baby has been born, as the child is growing, it will spend more and more time away from home, away from its mother. During adolescence the child will claim an ever greater independence. After he or she finishes school and starts a family, the separation will be com-plete. Mary, too, had this painful experience. The twelve-year- old Jesus remained in the temple: "I must be in my Father's house." During his public ministry Jesus called his disciples mother and brothers and sisters, thus in a way pushing away from himself his biological family. On the cross, Jesus gave a mere disciple to his mother in place of himself. Look at Michelangelo's Pietb, this Magnificat prayer carved into marble, and see Mary's generous surrender. Even after all her trials and suffer-ings, she was still the humble handmaid of the Lord. There are two ways of experiencing this separation: (a) to live without the experience of Jesus' presence or close-ness and (b) to allow our spiritual children to grow up and go off and live their lives. Mary, by her suffering and agony, added something to the redeeming sufferings of her Son. Similarly, by car-rying our daily crosses (their heaviness may change from time to time), we complement "what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the church" (Col 1:24). Our sufferings can be physical or spiritual or emotional. They may take the form of sickness, exhaus- 6Y.2 2006 Leloczky ¯ Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation tion, frustration, or burnout, They may be caused by the very people for whose sake we are spending our days and burning our energies, as when the crowd shouted at Jesus, "Crucify him!" We may be attacked or accused without reason, we may be slandered, or we may feel abandoned as Jesus did when he cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" But we should not forget that the sadness lasted only three days. Imagine Mary's joy at Jesus' resurrection, at her encounter with her risen Son. The same joy is waiting for us. We just have to persevere, to continue imitating Christ by imi-tating Mary faithfully, day after day. 158 Prayer Slowly and meditatively pray the Memorare prayer. Remember, 0 most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection, implored your help, or sought your intercesson was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto you, 0 Virgin of virgins, my Mother; to you do I come, before you I stand, sinful and sorrowful. 0 Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in your mercy hear and answer me. Amen Review for Religious MARY JOSEPH SCHULTZ Just Because I Said So Sohifting numbers, median ages, and the geography f religious life over the past several decades and today as well do not cause me to pause and reflect on whether we have a future, as many religious have recently been wondering. I believe that religious life most defi-nitely does have a future. For each individual commu-nity, where that future goes must be carefully discerned in the Spirit. But there are other questions with less clear answers. What impels us to go on? What can we offer new members to quench their thirsty hearts once they join us? I would like to reflect on one word as the answer to both these questions--commitment. It is not a popular word today in a mobile and disposable society such as ours. The word commitment is at one and the same time a sign of contradiction to some and a challenge and cause for hope to many others. In some circles a lifelong com-mitment to religious life has fallen under examination in recent years. For my part, I cannot buy into the notion Mary Joseph Schultz SCC, president of Assumption College for Sisters, wrote for us in 2003. Her address is 350 Bernardsville Road; Mendham, New Jersey 07945. 65.2 2006 Schultz ¯ ~tst Because I Said So of a limited commitment to religious life just as I can-not buy into the idea of a temporary marriage commit-ment. As religious we vow ourselves to a God unseen but not unknown. We embrace centuries-old charisms of peo-ple whose lives and lifestyles were shaped by grace amid definite historical settings and cultural needs. We set aside wealth, sexual activity, and the disposition of our own will in freely choosing poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence for life. It is imperative that we study our own com-mitments in gratitude--and that we find ways to convey its challenge, meaning, and joy to Generations X and Y-- if we truly have hope in our communities' future. Our brothers and sisters in community who celebrate fifty, sixty, and even seventy-five years of religious life overflow with peace and joy in their long, faithful, and fruitful commitments, just as their married counterparts do who celebrate their golden anniversaries. What is their secret? Why and how have they survived and thrived in a world of instant gratification, noise, infi-delity, moral weakness, and faltering leadership and through forty years of post-Vatican II experimentation, discussion, renewal, and change in their communities? They would probably answer the question very simply: "I am still here because I said I would be." Sefin Sammon, in his wise and prophetic book Religious Life in America, speaks of the impact of public commitment to the evangelical counsels: "In carrying out our ministry in a spirit of selfless service, we witness further to countercultural values. How? By avoiding the all too familiar and tragic betrayal of consecrated life that occurs when we give our heart away generously at the time of first commitment, and then take it back, bit by bit, with each passing year" (p. 92). Commitment is not widely modeled for today's youth, either in families or in society at large. Hedonism and Review for Religious materialism erode the very notion of a committed life. The rapidity and challenge of change surround every aspect of our culture today. Opting out of anything dis-agreeable or tiresome is only a mouse-click away. Young people are constantly in and out of hobbies, activities, and relationships without so much as a glance back-ward. Often parents try to be supportive by signing them up for lessons, buy-ing instruments and sports either in families or equipment and providing taxi service to and from in society at large. appointments and games. For the young, broad arrays of opportunity and experience soon become bor-ing- or become irritatingly impossible when parental money or patience runs short. Entering my community as an aspirant in my teens in the late 1960s, I truly aspired to living religious life. It was hard for me and for those my age to understand all the post-Vatican II talk about "returning to your foundress's charism." Certainly we should already be who we say we are! Why wouldn't we be, and how could we not be? Naive teenage questions. But, from the moment I left home to enter as a sophomore, my heart was com-mitted to my dream, and I was just a little puzzled by what I saw and heard going on around me. Wasn't every sister as committed as I thought she was or should be? Through the difficult weeks of homesickness, a cer-tain degree of stubbornness and a huge amount of grace sustained me. I knew my choice was right. From my early years my family realized that I was serious about being a sister. It was all I talked about and I only had to wait (impatiently) until I was old enough to be accepted. My Commitment is not widely modeled for today's youth, 65.2 2006 Scbultz ¯ s~ust Because I Said So ,° 1 21 older siblings at times "tested" me and offered their opin-ions about my leaving home at fourteen. But my parents were supportive in their quiet and undemonstrative way. They were proud of me, I knew, loved the sisters, and backed me up at each step. One day shortly before I was set to leave, my mother said, "You know, you really can change your mind. You don't have to go just because you said so." I believe she wanted to give me a last chance to back out with minimal embarrassment. My reply was simple: "I know, Morn, but I want to be a sister." From that day on no more was said. My father died a year later, and my mother was proud of my life choice. She later became a lay associate in my community. Mom's words often ring in my ears: "Just because you said so." Certainly I am not the same person I was at fourteen, but there are traces of that determined girl still inside. I am not the same person I was at final profession twenty-five years ago. But there is one thing I pray never changes, that I am a woman of my word. To me this is a very positive quality. While "just because I said so" can deteriorate into an authoritarian dictate held over the head of a student (and I confess to having resorted to it more than once in a classroom of questioning teens), these same words are to me a sign of fidelity and com-mitment. I gave my word and I intend to keep it, not grudgingly but joyfully. Whether from genetics or my serious temperament or both, when I tell someone I am going to do some-thing, I make it my business to follow through. This can lead to scrupulosity or unhealthy guilt if I am not care-ful. I can place unrealistic expectations on myself (or on others through transference) as I strive to pray for all the prayer requests, write all those notes, make those phone calls, or do those favors that I promised I would. As I have noticed, other temperaments seem to have no Review for Relig4ous problem breaking those promises, skipping those phone calls, or never getting back to me, but they also have fewer sleepless nights. I believe that giving my word to others is about the best I can give them. In this I share God's own view-- giving God's Word was the best of gifts. Giving my word to God on my profession day symbolized all of me with nothing held back. This perpetual commitment, lived out one day, one moment, at a time, is a beautiful gift that I hope to never take back or take for granted. Not knowing the trials, temptations, or dryness that lay ahead could not lessen the fullness of the gift. In fact it only served to increase the value. God took me at my word, and the journey of religious life has been remarkable. Unlike in a marriage vow, I am guaranteed the fidelity of my Partner, and if there is any cooling in the relationship it can only be on one side! "Just because I said so" is in itself hardly a solid enough motivation for perseverance. These words can easily reflect mere stubbornness or the desire to prove something to myself or others. I have seen some sisters leave the community, even after final profession, because this motivation to please self or a parent was the sole force behind their entering religious life. If love, humility, and grace do not underlie my words, then I am foolish and my life is a sham and an exercise in self-righteousness. Giving my word verbally and on the vow formula signed on the altar came after long years of trial and preparation. My commitment was not made as a naive religious wearing rose-colored glasses. I had seen many "heroes" leave the community, had watched the divi-siveness of Vatican II experimentation, and had been asked to step forward and take my place as a responsible member of the community. Publicly pronouncing the words "I vow to almighty God perpetual chastity, 6~ .2 2006 Schultz ¯ ~st Because I Said So poverty, and obedience" was the best I could do, then and now. I would do it all over again today, even know-ing what would lie ahead. I would once again give my word. At the time of my entrance, I believe I had it much easier because, while there were hundreds of communi-ties, my familiarity with them was very limited. Many girls entered a community whose members had taught them or with whom there was already a relative or a close association. This is not the case today, especially with so few religious left in the classrooms. A young person discerning religious life today has a greater challenge than I did forty years ago, partly because of the wide array, of choices open to her. Even after deciding to become a religious, someone could literally spend years of her life visiting monasteries and convents for "Come and see" weekends. With the easy availability of appeal-ing vocation literature and online access, a serious and thorough examination of multiple communities might even turn her into a delayed vocation! What is it that makes a young woman decide on a particular community? What makes a heart resonate and feel at home with one group rather than another? I feel that, when all is said and done, communities must sim-ply be who they say they are. Authenticity is the key that will unlock commitment. After forty years of communal soul-searching, it is time for communities simply to move on. It is time to claim who we are, corporately commit to the charism, and put all our energies into authentic liv-ing of our foundress's spirit here and now in the 21st century. There can be no going back. Now is the time for simply joining hands, holding tight, and boldly moving ahead according to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. This is the gift we have to offer new members, a gift that will enliven our future. Review for Religious Young people, seeking authentic community, will go where they find the real deal. And how can such a com-munity survive today except through common prayer, deep spirituality, shared vision and lifestyle, corporate witness, and joyful life in the Spirit of Jesus. This is what they seek, hoping against hope that such groups exist and will provide them with the challenge they desire so ardently. We have a responsibility to live up to our word. We are here because we said we would be. I am here because I said so. And is this not a Godlike quality--giving one's word? God's Word and our own are why we are all here in the first place. Personal Reflection / Group Conversation 1. What has been my experience of "growing into a com-mitment"? 2. What led me to joining this religious congregation of which I am a member? 65.2 2006 religious VIMAL TIRIMANNA Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? implications In January 2002, I was in a bus on my way from Colombo to Kandy, Sri Lanka. Next to me in the same seat was a Buddhist monk. He was very friendly and kept me engaged in a lively con-versation on various matters about our two reli-gions till we reached Kandy, a journey of some three hours. At one stage he wanted to know why the cardinal archbishop of Boston had to resign (an issue widely reported in our local newspapers). I said that it was due to allegations (especially by the media) of his not having made responsible decisions regarding several errant priests of his archdiocese who were involved in sexual abuse. The Buddhist monk was visibly surprised, for till then he was of the opinion that the archbishop had to resign because he him-self was involved in sexual abuse. This Buddhist monk may be excused for his inaccurate impres-sion, but one wonders how many of our own Vimal Tirimanna wrote for us in May-June 2001. His address until October 2006 is Redemptorists; Frangipani; No. 80 Ampitiya Road; Kandy, Sri Lanka. Review for Religious Catholics, including religious and priests, are unaware of why Cardinal Law had to resign. If the factors and reasons that led him to resign from the prestigious Archdiocese of Boston had been applied to various other bishops and religious superiors around the world today, one wonders how many would have had to follow Cardinal Law and resign their posts. It is no exaggeration to say that, in cases of sexual abuse and also in other crucial areas of priestly and religious life, a good number of church leaders are badly wanting in their pas-toral responsibility and accountability towards their sub-jects and institutes. This arises from not making responsible timely decisions, decisions that ought to have been made for the common good of the diocese or reli-gious congregation and for the good of the church. Note that in this article we are not dealing with an occasional failure to make a responsible decision, which is some-thing normal since bishops and superiors are human; we are dealing with habitual negligence to make decisions on the part of bishops and religious superiors. Consistent, habitual evasion of making decisions has contributed immensely to the contemporary difficulties in priestly and religious life and in church life in general. This is the main point of this article. I write this article from my fifteen years of experi-ence as a retreat preacher to the clergy (both diocesan and religious) in Sri Lanka and elsewhere, and also from the experience I gained from my close association with major superiors as president of the Conference of the Major Religious Superiors of Sri Lanka (for two terms, four years) and from being the major superior of the Redemptorists in Sri Lanka (for three terms, nine years). I limit myself here to consecrated life and then to show-ing how the irresponsibility and unaccountability of a good number of religious superiors have contributed to 6Y.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? 168, the present disturbed state of consecrated life. I will ana-lyze briefly what authority means in the Christian tradi-tion, and then I will try to show how secular democratic political trends have affected the role of superiors, how their craving for popularity among their subjects has often inhibited them from making many a vital consci-entious decision. I will show that in these situations it is impossible for prophetic and diplomatic roles to func-tion simultaneously. I will conclude by highlighting the need today for religious superiors to make conscientious, pastoral, and courageous decisions for the sake of the common good of their institutes, and thus give prophetic leadership to today's world. Authority in the Christian Tradition Jesus clearly condemns oppressive and despotic power wielded by the rulers of nations (Mk 10:42). He tells his disciples who were arguing about which of them was the greatest that he who wants to be great must make him-self the least of all and serve others (Mk 9:33-35). For him, true authority is for service in truth, as he so tellingly demonstrated throughout his earthly life, which reached a climax at the last supper when he washed the feet of his own apostles (Jn 13:115). Emulating Jesus' teaching, the Christian tradition has always held that authority is for service. Accordingly, all leaders, civil as well as ecclesiastical, are expected to be servants of the common good of the group that is entrusted to them. A New Testament image dear to the early Christian community was Jesus the good shepherd. This is shown especially in the frescoes in the early catacombs. A shep-herd carrying a sheep on his.shoulders is a common fig-ure in those early places of worship. In fact, the concept of shepherd or "p, astor" and the adjective "pastoral" are woven into our inherited tradition regarding authority. ¯ Review for Religious To be a pastor or shepherd is to take flocks to where there is food and water, looking out for their safety and well-being. In our Christian tradition, leadership, whether in consecrated life or in a diocese, requires the care, compassion, and concern of a shepherd towards his sheep. The well-being of the flock and of each individ-ual sheep ought to be the - - - shepherd or pastor's top priority. If shepherds or pastors are more concerned about themselves, they cease to be shepherds and become hirelings concerned first of all with fattening themselves (see Ezk 34, Jn - - 10:7-18). Superiors, then, are supposed to be shepherds, serving the flock entrusted to them, not seeking their own good, not even their own survival. It is, of course, true that consecrated life has changed drastically in our day and so has the style of community leadership. It is sufficient to compare and contrast the era before Vatican Council II and afterwards. No one would argue today for the type of leadership that was prevalent in consecrated life before the council. It is also true that the way "authority" and "leadership" are under-stood varies from culture to culture. Regardless of the differences in worldviews and the ways of exercising authority, one essential and undeniable element of authority is that superiors' decision making must be for the common good. In the church in general and in con-secrated life in particular, such decision making is vital. After the initial stages of involving as many members as possible in the decision-making process, religious supe-riors must not abdicate their own decision making under any pretext. If they do so, they cease to serve the good of The Christian tradition has' always held that authority is for service. 6L2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correa'? 170 the community. This was expressed well in the instru-mentum laboris of the ordinary assembly of the Synod of Bishops held in 1994, on "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World": The role of authority is that of a sure and authorita-tive guide, of inspiration and encouragement, so that an environment of fraternal communion can be cre-ated, one which can facilitate personal spiritual growth and the fulfillment of the apostolic mission, without, however, declining the responsibility to decide when-ever necessary. (§59) The postsynodal apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata (1996) of Pope John Paul II said: While authority must be above all fraternal and spir-itual, and while those entrusted with it must know how to involve their brothers and sisters in the deci-sion- making process, it should still be remembered that the final word belongs to authority and, consequendy, that authority has the right to see that decisions made are respected. (§43, emphasis in the original text) Superiors Seeking Popularity in Their Communities The latter decades of the 20th century are noted for the spread of democracy in different parts of the globe. Democracy has become a universally accepted human value. Even countries that are not yet democratic are striving, indeed yearning, for it. This is surely a wel-come change for the whole of humanity. Normally democracy not only guarantees human rights on the basis of individuals' inherent dignity, but also for the com-mon good assures the participation of every citizen in the political decision making. Since democracy assures citizens' right to change those in authority after an agreed term of office, those officials normally spend a lot of their energy and resources to be popular, for it is their popularity that ensures their success at elections. Rarely do they offend citizens in public or make unpop- Review for Religious ular decisions even when such decisions are necessary for the common good. If they do, their very survival is at stake. With the mass media often playing the role of watchdog, political leaders today are pressured to say and do the "politically correct" thing. The phrase is fast becoming common parlance. The more "politically cor-rect" you are, the more popular you become. Political leaders who dare to make unpopular decisions, even though such decisions are dictated by their consciences and demanded by the common good, are being thrown out of office. Parallel to happenings in the secular world are some of the ways that religious congregations do things. Thanks to Vatican II, gone are the rigid (and sometimes absurd) practices that marked consecrated life in the years before the council. Although religious congrega-tions cannot be considered democracies in a literal sense, wider participation in congregational and community decision making has brought a lot of relevance and good sense to consecrated life. Today sensible persons heave a sigh of relief and thank God that most of the irrational and dictatorial ways of being a religious superior are over. Today religious superiors are really meant to serve the common good of the flock entrusted to them. The secular concept of democracy surely has had a positive influence on these changes in religious life. Our own experience during the past couple of decades, however, shows that the same concept of democ-racy also seems to have had a negative effect on many religious superiors. Just as secular political leaders earnestly seek popularity, and survive and eventually move up the political ladder because of their popularity, today's religious superiors often seem to seek such pop-ularity within their own congregations for their mere survival and sometimes for their upward mobility either !171 65.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correa'? 172 in the congregation or in the hierarchy. Many of our contemporary religious superiors are doubly careful not to make "politically incorrect" decisions that would make them unpopular among the members of their congrega-tions and thus bring about their own downfall. The wider consultations (and, in many congregations, elections) that since Vatican II are rightly carried out in electing or appointing religious superiors seem to put the supe-riors in a dilemma. On the one hand, to be elected or reelected, they have to be popular or well accepted. On the other hand, to be popular or well accepted, they have to play to the gallery by not making decisions that would upset the majority of the members. Note that by "pop-ularity" I do not mean the mere acceptability of superi-ors to the other members of the community, which is a must in consecrated life. I mean the kind of "popular-ity" that is gained by not offending numbers of influen-tial people. People accrue such "popularity" by not making decisions that are badly needed for the common good--even when their conscience prompts them to do so. They avoid certain good decisions simply because they would offend the majority of the members. It is a "popularity" that is gained and sustained by pandering to a lumpenproletariat. The more superiors do not make deci-sions that would make them unpopular with the major-ity, the more acceptable they become all around. The more they evade their bounden duty to make decisions that could make them unpopular, the greater their chances of getting reelected or reappointed. This is why today, in quite a number of congregations, we hear mem-bers saying: "We made sure to have so-and-so elected because we are sure he (or she) will not rock the boat." To illustrate the point here, let us look at the now popular sabbaticals. Is it always those who really deserve a real break after a tedious involvement in the congre- Review for Religious gational apostolate who get a sabbatical today? Are all those who go for sabbaticals the "burnt-out" persons? What about the way some superiors treat members who complain that they lack self-fulfillment? Are they not fre-quently permitted to find their "self-fulfillment" by get-ting into any and every personal apostolate or pet project, even when these cut them off from their communities? Today it is not uncommon to send abroad for higher stud-ies persons who are erratic or wanting in their basic reli-gious commitment. The persons concerned may not even have the capacity for studies, but to some superiors this seems a diplomatic way of handling the problem, at least temporarily. They do not realize or do not wish to real-ize that such evasions leave the problem for their suc-cessors in office. Such ways of acting are neither just nor charitable even from the point of view of the persons thus treated. Instead of addressing the real problem of the person with genuine charity and justice, they tem-porarily circumvent the issue, not out of sympathy, but instead out of concern for their own survival. Regrettably, avoiding good hard decisions has become an accepted way of being "politically correct" in consecrated life today. So has making decisions that are only temporarily satis-factory, and may be disastrous in the long run. In both these cases, the problematic root is "political correct" words and deeds or superiors' spui'ious "popularity." Prophecy and Diplomacy Do Not Sit Well Together But is conscious evading or circumventing of deci-sions morally correct? Is it the way to be prophetic? Time and again one hears it said: "Well, this is the way things have turned out in consecrated life today, and so what can we do?" "This is the way even most of the bish-ops act, and so what is wrong if our own religious supe-riors do the same?" Unfortunately, this way of looking at 65.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? 174 1 things seems to ignore the very nature and purpose of consecrated life. From its very origins, one of the char-acteristics of consecrated life has been its prophetic nature. Pope John Paul II in his ~ta consecrata enunciated this point well: There is a prophetic dimension which belongs to the consecrated life as such, resulting from the radical nature of the following of Christ and of the subse-quent dedication to the mission characteristic of the consecrated life. The sign value, which the Second Vatican Council acknowledges in the consecrated life, is expressed in prophetic witness to the primacy which God and the truths of the gospel have in Christian life. (§84) A careful scrutiny of history would show us how, at different moments of decadence in church life, it was consecrated life that raised the church out of decadence through its witnessing, thus giving the church prophetic leadership: In effect, the consecrated life is at the very heart of the church as a decisive element for her mission, since it "manifests the inner nature of the Christian calling" and the striving of the whole church as Bride toward the union with her one Spouse. At the Synod it was stated on several occasions that the consecrated life has not only proved a help and support for the church in the past, but is also a necessary gift for the present and future of the people of God, since it is an inti-mate part of her life, her holiness, and her mission. (~ta consecrata, §3; emphasis in the original) So, to argue that the superiors are only emulating the way things are done by the hierarchical church lead-ership is not correct, for consecrated life has to give the lead to the rest of the church, even regarding pastoral leadership. As the late moral theologian Father Bernard Hiiring often told his students, prophecy and diplomacy (in today's parlance, "politically correctness") do not and Review for Religious cannot sit together comfortably. One has to give way to the other. A good number of contemporary religious superiors fail to make proper decisions because they wish to be "politically correct." Thus they not only betray their own vocation to be prophetic, but they gravely damage the common good of the communities entrusted to them. Besides, if a religious superior is supposed to be a pastor, then he has the bounden duty towards the well being of the members. This duty includes fraternal cor-rection. If members go astray and deviate from the group's charism, it is the duty of the shepherd (the reli-gious superior) to begin fraternal correction in charity, even if it hurts. The supe-rior owes such correction to the individuals and the group. Their integral well-being as consecrated peo-ple is one of the superior's top priorities. If superiors shirk this difficult role of fraternal correction in order to be "politically cor-rect," they have no right to Consecrated life has to give the lead to the rest of the church, even regarding pastoral leadership. remain in office, because they have failed in their pri-mary duty of working towards the well-being of the con-gregation and the church. Superiors who do not have as their goal the common good of the congregation and the church contribute to their decadence. Instead of swimming against the popular secular currents, they clearly betray the consecrated prophetic life so well explained by Pope John Paul II: In our world, where it often seems that the signs of God's presence have been lost from sight, a convinc-ing prophetic witness on the part of consecrated per- 65.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? sons is increasingly necessary. Consecrated per-sons are being asked to bear wimess everywhere with the boldness of a prophet who is unafraid of risking even his life. (VC §85) Prophetic Leadership Will the majority of superiors in consecrated life con-tinue to allow the secular democratic political trends to be their model in the coming years? Or will they give prophetic leadership to their own communities by acting according to the moral norms of what is right and wrong? Will they act for their own "good" or for the common good of their institutes? The writer is con-vinced that it is high time that religious superiors become more responsible and accountable in their decision mak-ing as animators, and thus allow their consciences, their specific religious charisms, and the common good to be the norms in their decision making. The norm of being "politically correct" should be the last in their list of pri-orities, for they are certainly not to be "politicians" who eagerly seek popularity, as in the secular world. In this way, they not only will arrest the decline in the quality of contemporary consecrated life, but will also be giving prophetic leadership to the church and the world. 176 Review for Religious BRENDAN KNEALE Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious Before Vatican Council II most Catholic priests, eligious, and laypeople had no "identity crisis." We knew who we were, our place seemed well defined, and we had no impending threat of change. Our per-sonal identity and our .social identity were clear and unthreatened, It may, however, be a good thing that after the council we had to take a close look at our identity. Perhaps we ought to question the quality of our earlier identity. Did it show signs of the identity claims that Pharisees made in Christ's time? They and the scribes were quite self-assured groups. Some of us were, too, maybe to the point of blind confidence in our identity. Among religious there was a saying:?'Keep the Rule and the Rule will keep you." It was, we can see now, a dan-gerous motto, even though it assured our identity. St. Paul, who had been a strict Pharisee, came to realize the danger. Brendan Kneale FSC taught for many years at Saint Mary's College of California. Now retired, he lives at De La Salle Institute; 4405 Redwood Road; Napa, California 94558. 65.2 2006 Kneale ¯ Identifying Identity among, Nonclerical Religious What should have happened after Vatican II was a strengthening and sharpening of our identity. Unfortunately, that was not the popular perception of the changes that had been made. Even though changes initiated by the council were intended as clarifications and improvements, we tended to feel, instead, that things were no longer well defined. Shortly after the council, we heard of religious teachers here or there whose dress, teaching, and behavior led students to express surprise that they were religious or even Catholics. After Vatican II, people asked, "Is this the same church?" Some religious and priests asked, "Is mine the same apostolate?" "Is my school or hospital still Catholic?" "Is there any longer a place for the conse-crated life?" After Vatican II many teachers wondered, "Does the syllabus for my catechetical instruction in the classroom truly represent what I believe?" Or "Are all the liturgical innovations good?" And religious asked, "Have laypeople taken over our role?" "Who am I now?" A Definition of Identity It would be refreshing if all who talk about "iden-tity" were really sure what they are talking about. Few people have a clear definition of the term. In various contexts we confuse identity with "self-image" or "per-sonhood" or "character," or perhaps with "individual-ity," "uniqueness," or an adopted "persona." Fortunately, there are careful thinkers available to address the prob-lem of identifying identity. We are told that Erik Erikson, the psychologist who coined the term "identity crisis" (right after Vatican II, significantly), believed that an identity crisis is "the most important conflict human beings encounter." His defi-nition of psychological identity ran as follows: "a sub-jective sense as well as an observable quality of personal Review for Religious sameness and continuity, paired with some belief in the sameness and continuity of some shared world image." Such a definition has the virtue of pointing squarely at both personal and social identity, that is, both private and public. Lexicographers agree that there are two chief emphases in the notion of identity. Etymologically "iden-tity" (from the Latin idem, the same) is, first of all, an enduring and distinctive individuality and, second, a social or relational "belonging." That is, peo-ple are identifiable by their unique and continu-ing sameness (generally indicated by a permanent - name and fixed array of recognizable psychological traits), and they are identifiable by what membership they have within a recognized group. Thus, in answer to "Who are you?" we will give our name to help the questioner to recall our uniqueness, or we will describe (if our uniform does not indicate it) what recognizable place we occupy in a clear social category. Thus we have a private identity and a public identity. Note that the two identities support each other. In fact, an African proverb has it that "I am because we are." A way to gain insight into identity is to contrast it with related ideas. We should try to keep the terminol-ogy clear about what identity is not. It is not "charac-ter," which is "a constellation of enduring motivational and other traits that are manifested in the typical ways that we react to various challenges." Character, then, may be taken as the moral side of one's identity. Nor is identity simply "self." "Self is a unified being which is the source of an idiosyncratic consciousness, the agent We have a.private identity and a public identity. 65.2 2006 Kneale ¯ Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious responsible for the thoughts and actions of an individual to which they are ascribed." Hence self is an abstract or generic term for "personal identity"; it is not the same as the important and complementary "social identity." None of the following words is a synonym for iden, tity. "Individual" is mostly a quantitative term; it is related to the words undivided and indivisible. "Person"~ is, according to Thomas Aquinas, "the individual substance of a rational soul" and does not disappear if one's identity is vague or shifting. "Personality" is something different; it includes the social as well as the more strictly personal. Dictionaries say that personality is the complex of char-acteristics that distinguishes an individual or a group or nation--but especially the totality of an individual's behavioral and emotional characteristics. Identity is at the core of this "complex of characteristics" (which makes the loss of identity a serious matter). "Persona" and "role" derive from drama, from play-acting, and are of co,urse the weakest versions of what we mean by identity. In an extended article in Consecrated Life 24, no. 2 (February 2003), Father Amadeo Cencini has developed the notion of social identity by emphasizing the id.entity which comes from "belonging." He uses that word because, in identifying ourselyes, we often specify the career, occupation, group, race, persuasion, and so forth to which we "belong." Those of us belonging to conse-crated life may identify ourselves as members of a named religious institute and belonging here or there within it. This answer makes our personal identity derivable, to some extent, from that of the larger group. Sometimes our identity is seen as tied to "our roots" within a social group. Suppose, however, that the group to which one iden-tifies oneself.as belonging (say, a religious institute) has itself no clear identity. If that group has an identity that Review for Religious is fuzzy or vague, then one of the two main sources of identity (namely, "belonging") is comproinised. A reli-gious institute could have evolved (perhaps calling the change "refounding the order") into something different from .what it was. Moreover, even the larger church, to which the institute belongs, could itself also change enough to confuse people about its own identity. For example, the church could seem to speak without a clear voice about itself, and an institute of consecrated life could becom~ canonically unsure about whether laypeo-pie are "members." Or it might interpret certain changes (like emphasis on adult education or on political involve-ment) as challenges to its identity as teachers of youth or caretakers of the sick. It could wonder if other forms of social service rather than classroom or hospital work should be what the church asks for. Official Ecclesial Positions Readers will know that since Vatican II the church has taken up the problem of identity officially and for-mally. The Vatican (following special synods of bishops) has published three clarifying documents, one each for the benefit of priests, laypeople, and religious. The doc-ument about religious is called ~ta consecrata (1996) and addresses the nature and identity of consecrated life. In particular, and depending heavily on the work of a pre-vious world synod of bishops, Vita konsecrata devoted its section 57 to the role of sisters and section 60 to broth-ers. These paragraphs include the following excerpts: By virtue of their dedication lived in fullness and in joy, consecrated women are called in a very special way to be signs of God's tender love toward the human race and to be special witnesses to the mystery of the church, virgin, bride, and mother . Certainly the validity of many assertions relating to the position of 181 65.2 2006 Kneale * Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Relig4ous .women in different sectors of society and of the church cannot be denied . Women's new self-awareness helps men to reconsider their way of looking at things, the way they understand themselves, where thE)) place themselves in history and how they interpret it, and the way they organize social, political, economic, reli-gious, and ecclesial life . The consecrated woman . . . can help eliminate certain one-sided perspectives which do not fully rec-ognize her dignity and her specific contribution to the church's life and pastoral and missionary activity. Consecrated women therefore rightly aspire to have their identity, ability, mission, and responsibility more clearly recognized, both in the awareness of the church and in everyday life. The consecrated life by its nature "is neither lay nor clerical" . The "lay consecration" of both men and women constitutes a state which in its profession of the evangelical counsels is complete in itself. for the individual and for the church . . . apart from the sacred ministry. The synod expressed great esteem for the kind. of consecrated life in which r.eligious brothers provide valuable services of various kinds, inside or outside the community, participating in this way in the mission of proclaiming the gospel and bearing witness to it with charity in everyday life. Although [lay institutes] perform many works in common with the lay faithful, [members] do so inso-far as. they are consecrated and thereby express the spirit of total self-giving to Christ and the church, in accordance with ~heir specific charism. The term "brother" suggests a rich spirituality. ¯ Brothers are an effective reminder to religious priests themselves of the fundamental dimension of brother-hood in Christ, to be lived among themselves and with every man and woman, and they proclaim to all the Lord's words: "And you are all brothers" (M(23:8). We might add that, when Father Amadeo Cencini wrote about the problem of identity, he called attention Review for Religious to the important role of an institute's charism--a point also emphasized in Vita consecrata. An obvious way to increase a sense of our belonging (and our identity) is by attachment to the institute's charism (provided that the corporate identity is itself clear). Cencini notes that some individual reli-gious are weakly con-nected to the charism of their institute, or hold divided loyalties, or, on the other hand, immerse themselves within it in a psycho-logically unhealthy way. We can recall in Some individual religious are weak!y connect, ed to the charism of their institute or hold divided loyalties. this connection the recommendations of the classic work The Future of Religious Orders in the U.S.: Transformation and Commitment by Father David Nygren and Sister Miriam Ukeritis. The proper connection to the charism and the best sense of belonging are to be found, says Cencini, by a deepening of one's attachment to the charism in three ways: by way of prayer and spiritual-connection, by ascetically conforming to the lifestyle of the institute's norms, and by real engagement in the common aposto-late. (Perhaps he could have added: study and grasp of the relevant literature.) This last point about "real engagement" raises an acute problem for some conse-crated religious: What identifies us as distinct from our secular associates and coworkers? If one uses a simply functional definition of our state, then the problem is indeed acute. Many of our secular associates, such as Gospel Catholics, practice in accordance with their voca-tions a chastity, obedience, and poverty that are often more difficult than ours. They sometimes show more 65.2 2006 Kneale ¯ Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious 184 talent, dedication, and leadership than their religious colleagues. If, however, we consider who we are and do not just look at our function, then we see a.radical dif-ference between us and them. If we are aware what we are in relation to the evangelical counsels and in rela-tion to auxiliary vows, what we are in terms of commu-nity life, what we are in relation to mobility, to the radicality, quality, and scope of our availability and ser-vice, then we should not have a problem. In addition tb ~vhat Cencini writes about an insti-tute's common and received charism, wecould emphasize the desirability of our contributing to the charism in some innovative way. If we could do that, it seems to me, we would increase our sense of belonging, and even of "ownership." Each of us should bring to the charism, by conscious effort, an enrichment that stems from our personal talents, from our studies, and from our auxiliary memberships in professional and religious associations (in relation to which we can see our own identity more clearly). Charism is not static. Individuals enrich the charisms of their communities. The differing charisms of various consecrated reli-gious groups illustrate a principle that helps clarify cor-porate identity, namely, the principle of an institutional subsidarity and "division of labor" within the church. Each institute has its own apostolic charism and thus its own responsibility. It is true that numerous apostolic needs are great and pressing, and occasionally they are overriding, but normally we keep our corporate identity by doing our own apostolic labor, not th

Issue 63.3 of the Review for Religious, 2004. ; Communal Discernment . Heritages Prayer Vocation QUARTERLY 63.3 2004 Revlew for Rel~igious helps people respond'and be faithful to Goit~s universal call to holiness "by making available to ~be~° tbe spiritua! legiicie~s tbat flow from the cbarisms of Catbolic,~consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ ~reb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ St. Joseph's Provincial House 333 South Seton Avenue ¯ Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2004 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 0 for religious LIIV~NG OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Column Scripture Column Editorial Staff Vdebmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann" Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehme~ ASC Steve Erspamer SM Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukerids CSJ QUARTERLY 63.3 2004 contents 230 communal discernment Election and Communal Discernment: Goals, Myths, and Gifts Ted Dunn clarifies some of the reasons for using communal discernment as a method for electing leadership. 244 249 heritages Frances Siedliska's Mystical Life Barbara Sudol CSFN enters us into the mystical prayer experiences that marked the life of Frances Siedliska, foundress of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth. Is Even More Good Coming from Nazareth? A. Paul Dominic SJ gives witness to the new form of religious life represented in the Little Brothers of Jesus. 263 274 prayer Not for the Faint of Heart: Journaling into Honest Prayer Ren~e Nienaber SND shares her experience of journaling in prayer that brings both focus and perspective in our relationship with God arid with others. A Hidden Treasure of the Ignatian Exercises J. Thomas Hamel sJ describes experiences in the life and writings of St. Ignatius Loyola which give an insight into prayer as "looking." Review for Religious Fidelity and Commitment: Letter to a Young Marist Brother Sefin Sammon FMS as superior general writes a letter to his brothers below age forty about nurturing the commitment to their vocation. 305. Vocations and Vocation Discernment Charles J. Jackson sJ describes vocation in terms of the initial call people experience and their ongoing responsiveness to God's action in their life, and then uses this description to explain vocation discernment in terms of preconditions and repeated process. 316 Why One Younger Religious Stays Terri Emslie PBVM reflects on her own growth in religious life in the face of personal gaps and the gaps of others within the same congregation. 228 Prisms 323 Canonical Counsel: Religious Institutes as Juridi~ Persons in Reconfiguration 329 Book Reviews 63.3 2004 prisms Everyone receives the divine call to be holy. For God is the One who calls us all to "be holy as I am holy." The Vatican II docu-ments re-emphasized this universal vocation to holiness. In our Catholic tradition, vocation tends to remain a word restricted to the calls of priests and bishops and women and men vowed in the consecrated lifeform. But everyone is being called by God to grow in holiness, that is, in his or her relationship with God. And everyone is called by God to a way of living out this holiness. To learn God's idea of this way of living, we need to pray, especially to listen to God. We need to reflect with the word of God. We need to take in the opinions and advice of others, especially friends and those who know us well. In other words, we need to be in a process of discern-ment if we are to attune ourselves to the way that God seems to be drawing us to fulfill our basic vocation to holiness. As one recent writer notes, there is no lack of vocations in the church. Rather there seems Review fbr Religious to be a lack of awareness among church members of the twofold call: to holiness and to a particular ~ay that God has in mind--for us to respond to. If all Catholics took seriously the personal calling from God, we would find ourselves in a church and a world in which the kingdom of heaven was being made the more visible. We would have a church that was alive with people in the tradi-tional ~service roles. Listening for and responding to God's call is the necessary foundation for a continuing Pentecost experience in our day. Closer to home, there have been a few different "call-ings" among the Review for Religious advisory board members. Brother Adrian Gaudin SC left the board some months ago when he found it necessary to cut back on his commitments. Sister Raymond Marie Gerard FSP has been assigned to new work in the Roman headquarters of the Daughters of St. Paul. Bishop Carlos Sevilla SJ has completed his six-year term. Brother Steve Erspamer SM, artist and liturgical design consultant, brings his expertise to our journal world. Sister Kathleen Hughes RSCJ, currently provincial of the United States province, offers her liturgical and theological wisdom. Bishop Terry Steib SVD, bishop of Memphis, Tennessee, contributes his experience of religious life, along with his ecclesial vision as bishop. As editor, I acknowledge my debt of gratitude to our three retiring board members. At the same time, I wel-come with great pride the three new members who bring such wonderful gifts in their counsel for Review for Religious. David L. Fleming sJ 63.3 2004 communal TED DUNN Election and Communal Discernment: Goals, Myths, and Gifts discernment For fifteen years my wife, Beth Lipsmeyer, and I have, as facilitators, been privileged to accom-pany many communities through communal dis-cernment leading to the election of leadership teams. We have discovered that there are not only wide-ranging views on what communal dis-cernment is, but also varied expectations regard-ing what it will achieve. In other words; beyond the election, What does communal discernment offer communities and what does the "commu-nal" part mean? On this topic there are myths, commonly held beliefs that no longer apply. In addition, while increasing numbers of commu-nities are using communal discernment, many of them focus so much one the outcome (the election) that they fail to see the gifts they are receiving along the way. I offer here some reflections on what I con-sider the worthwhile goals, common myths, and Ted Duma is a clinical psychologist. He and his wife operate Comprehensive Consulting Services; 6217 Mid Rivers Mall Drive, Suite 294; St. Charles, Missouri 63304. Review for Religious subtle gifts of communal discernment. There is, of course, no one right way to understand communal dis-cernment; every community defines its own objectives and ways of using it. With this article I invite your reflec-tions. I hope communities will dialogue among them-selves about how to get the most from the communal discernment they use in their elections. Goals of Discernment Like flipping a coin or agreeing that the majority rules, discernment is, after all is said and done, just another way to make decisions. Unlike flipping a coin, however, there is nothing random or quick about it. Discernment is intentional and requires a great deal of time if it is to be done well. Unlike a simple, democratic vote, in discernment it is the Spirit, not the majority, that rules. In communal discernment it is deepening partnership, rather than well-conducted campaigning, that ensures integrity and brings persuasion. The communal discernment we are discussing seeks the election of the best leaders. It is, however, about more than just choosing leaders. Another goal is to engage you in the drama of a deeper story, your collec-tive story, as it continues to unfold. In communal dis-cernment, bonds of partnership are formed and re-formed, woven together with your charism and your traditions and with questions of who you are called to become. Communal discernment offers all members the opportunity to influence how your leadership should function, to shape the team's values and style of working. A third goal .of communal discernment is to shape the nature of the partnership between elected leadership and membership. I would like to elaborate on this, for it appears central to the yearning of many communities. Communal discernment can create new ways for leadership and membership to be together. This includes 63.3 2004 Dunn ¯ Election and Communal Discernment sharing the same vision. To do this, to have the same vision living inside each member, they all must have some degree of ownership of it. Looking toward the future, they must, as partners, share in some detail how they envision it and what they hope to contribute to it. Communal discernment invites this kind of heartfelt talking and listening, such fostering of shared hope. Communities yearn to be able to share one another's gifts more fully, to affirm one another more fully, to feel more deeply the possibilities and power inherent in their being together in one community, no matter what their individual positions or ministries. Communities appear to be struggling for a deeper kind of partnership laced together by their personal commitments to, and their emotional investment in, their collective future. They want to become freer by having greater personal respon-sibility. This kind of partnership does not just happen. It may be a promise of faith, but it is formed by experience, tested by challenges, and re-formed through expressions of care, the anguish of confrontation, and the hard work of reconciliation. In communal discernment, opportu-nities abound to shape the partnerships you aspire to achieve. Communal discernment enables you to reflect, both personally and collectively, upon where your com-munity seems to be heading, what your vision of the future is, what your communal needs are, and what indi-vidual and collective gifts you possess to work with. Ideally, communal discernment will affirm and assist each and every one of you in your search for clarity and wisdom as you together appreciate your collective truth through a new kind of partnership. Thus, along with (1) choosing your leadership, com-munal discernment also enables your communities (2) to discover the values and style of leadership you want for yourselves and (3) to build the kind of partnership Review for Religious between elected leadership and membership that will enhance your preferred future. Myths of Discernment What follows are seven myths that I commonly hear expressed in our work across communities. While I have my opinions about these myths, I do not have definitive "answers" about them. My purpose in mentioning these, however, is to evoke conversation among you about what you believe. Eliciting your own understanding of your attitudes and belief about these seven so-called myths may help you to appreciate the terrain through which you will make your way during any future communal discernment efforts. Myth 1: Discernment is primarily between me and my God. Traditionally this has been true. Discernment has traditionally emphasized one's deeply personal and prayerful search for God's will. In recent years, however, communities have developed and emphasized the inter-play of personal and communal prayer. Beyond individ-ual prayer, communities are stretching the boundaries of personal discernment to include conversations as a way to hear what the Spirit is saying. In communal discernment, open dialogue pools the wisdom of your personal efforts so that together you can discover God's intentions. Personal and communal prayer, personal and shared reflection and dialogue, are increasingly the norm for the discernment used in elec-tions. Discernment is no longer just a private matter between you and your God. It is between you and your God, but also with and among all your fellow members bringing their God-given inspirations and longings and wisdom. Myth 2: Leaders are elected to represent what I want and believe. In a democracy, leaders are elected to "repre-sent" their constituency. People cast their votes for the 63.3 2004 Dunn ¯ Election and Communal Discernment In discernment the emphasis is on the process, not on the outcome, the election itself. candidates they believe will best represent them and speak up for their interests. These politicians are elected, in part, as conduits for the voices of their constituents. In discernment the emphasis is on the process, not on the outcome, the election itself. In fact, in the process there must be "detachment" from the outcome. This is necessary for people to hear what God may be asking, to hear the truth as it unfolds. Detachment from the outcome is meant to aid in listen-ing honestly to what is really being revealed rather than to what you already know, or expect to hear, or want or do not want to hear. In other words, if what someone tells you, or asks you to look at, seems to assail the out-come you prefer, you might stop your ears from hearing it. Setting aside your preferred outcome helps you to listen more honestly. If communal discernment has been done carefully, the subsequent voting expresses the wisdom of an enlightened group, not contentious efforts to put one's own candidate into the office. The power of individuals to enlighten, to forge partnerships, to stir vision, to cooperate in one another's future, is not limited to vot-ing. Your community's power in discernment is limited only by your difficulties in listening, your inhibitions about speaking, or your complicated efforts to get oth-ers to'speak for you. Discernment invites all of.y6u to give full voice to your most authentic truth. In a dis-cerned election, voting is only one of many oppor(-uni-ties (perhaps the least influential of all) to have your voice heard. Leaders called forth in this way are not so much elected to represent what you believe and to speak Review for Religious for you, but rather are affirmed to partner with all mem-bers in forwarding the movement of your community's mission. Myth 3: Discernment is primarily for those who are endorsed. From my perspective, and in our preferred approach to facilitating, communal discernment involves everyone in the community from beginning to end, not just those endorsed. Everyone goes through each phase of communal discernment, and everyone is invited to participate in processes along the way. Individual and communal prayer takes place throughout, Individual and shared reflections take place throughout.The interplay between personal and communal discernment is a dance that begins.with the preparations for endorsements and concludes with the election. While sometimes separate and sometimes together, all members (not just those endorsed) are engaged in discernment, and any process that is done separately needs to reconnect with the whole so that. there truly is a communal discernment. Our approach to communal discernment encourages the pooling of wisdom from past leadership and from those endorsed, from supportive,~ collaborative, .and deliberative members. Everyone is invited to submit endorsements, and these are the basis of invitations to the first discernment gathering, such as a discernment weekend. Those who attend come with the wider com-munity's blessings, input, prayers, and concerns, includ-ing expressions of desires and critical issues. Afterwards these persons bring to the community, at the "discern-ment assembly," their presumed group enlightenment. They share what they have found helpful and pertinent, and in turn they listen carefully to the wider commu-nity's wisdom--so'that all have a better basis for their continuing discernment. No matter how many phases or gatherings there are, the emphasis in communal discernment is to bring t 63.3 2004 Dunn ¯ Election and Communal Discernment together into unity the fruits of every individual or group discernment. Open dialogue, sharing discoveries along the way, and making decisions (such as to withdraw from the process) only in the context of the whole--all of these bolster trust in the overall discernment and in one another. Myth 4: Those with fewer endorsements are not serious contenders. Those with one, five, or fifty endorsements are of equal voice and value to the communal discern-ment. Each person endorsed, regardless of numbers, has been validly called. All are asked to consider themselves potential leaders and to discern with the Holy Spirit and the community. The Spirit is present to all, whether endorsed or not, and not more or less present according to the number of endorsements. It is a mistake to think of endorsements as a straw vote or, worse yet, as a reflection of the number of friends you have that believe in you. Endorsements are signs that people believe that you may have the quali-ties needed at this time in this leadership position. Numbers are not as important as what the endorsements invite you to explore. Those with the most endorsements may not be elected, and those with :one endorsement could be. We facilitated an election wherein a sister with one endorsement was ultimately elected after discern-ment had its deep effect on both her and the commuo nity. Endorsements are a departure point for conversation, an invitation to dialogue, and not a straw vote or a test of popularity. Do not expect numbers to satisfy your discernment questions, about either your faith or your future. Myth Y: Discernment means logically weighing pros and cons. Discernment, at its heart, is about searching for what God intends. While reason and logic are impor-tant, they are not of preeminent value. In discernment the irrational is not irreverent. Irrational processes of Re~iew for Religious cognition, such as our intuitions and our hearts' desires, are very much pa.rt of what leads us to God. We are made of head and heart, body and soul, mind and spirit. All of these are real. All are valid. Perhaps we can learn and appreciate better what God intends by allowing our-selves to be more fully ourselves, to embrace our human-ness in all its dimensions. That reason and our intuition, or logic and our feel-ings, may sometimes conflict is not itself a problem. Nor are we called to ignore one in favor of the other. Each of these different kinds of infor-mation needs to be understood in its own right. The invitation here is for deeper integration, not muting one in favor of another. What you think is right may conflict with how you feel. What you know may conflict with what you intuit. What you should do may conflict with what you want to do. Conflicting emo-tions and reasoning and intuitions .are signs that your dis-cernment is not as complete as it could be. The journey of faith often invites us to explore pos-sibilities beyond the boundaries of what reason and logic would dictate. Discernment is, in its essencE, a faith jour-ney, and, because there is a communal dimension to this, you are invited to make this journey with one another. Pros and cons are important to look at, and so is spiritual growth. Filtering the qualities needed for leadership is important, and so are opportunities for reconciliation. Assessing your future needs is important, and so too is the struggle to reinvest in community when your past wounds would urge you otherwise. Reason is important, and so is grace. Myth 6: Tbe election is where my voice really matters. Some may think that all this discernment talk is nice, What you think is right may conflict with how you feel. 63.3 2004 Dunn ¯ Election and Communal Discernment but in the end "I'I1 get my vote, and that's all that counts anyway." This is perhaps the biggest myth of all. In years past, when some were chosen to be delegates at chap-ters or senates, votes were the ultimate expression of the voices that mattered. If you were not chosen,, your del-egates carried your voice. If you were a delegate, your voice, expressed through voting, had the same weight as that of other delegates. Your vote expressed not only your own desire, but also spoke for those members not in attendance. The delegates were .often seen as privi-leged, and indeed they were, for only their voice was the one counted in the end. Whether through Robert's Rules or other rules, the voices heard at the time of election were confined to carefully laid-out rules of procedure. Votes equaled voice, and this voice was .the power of a privileged few. Most communities have moved to,open chapters or senates, whereall of you are invited to choose your own mode of participation .(supportive, collaborative, delib-erative). Everyone is offered the privilege of voting and, more important, the privilege of discernment. Your abil-ity to affect the shaping of your future, and to deter-mine the leaders to help you do so, is entirely~ dependent upon your personal choosing. You can be of little influ-ence if you choose minimal .participation:or have a great deal of influence if you involve yourself more deeply. Your voice matters at every step of the discernment, not just during the few hours you spend casting ballots. Your votes will be counted in the end, but, during the months that precede the voting; itis your discerning voices that count the most. In communal discernment the ones who shape the ultimate outcome are the ones who dialogue along the way, who listen and share, who invest in this faith journey and in one another. Myth 7: Discernment is mainly about cbtosing the most qualified. From our perspective, focusing upon the most Review for Religious qualified is as flawed an approach to discernment as its countercorollary, that you should elect only those per-sons who see eye-to-eye and can get along well. I believe that it is important for team members to have differ-ences and be able to work with them, that process is as important as outcome, that tasks are as important as rela-tionships, and that the ability to work as a team is as important as any team's constellation of gifts and tal-ents. You could elect the best and brightest, but, if they cannot get along, if they cannot gel into a cohesive work-ing unit, you will not see the best of what they have to offer. Likewise, if you elect those that get along with-out regard for the differing gifts and talents needed, you will not get a leadership adequate to your needs. From our experience of working with a variety of teams, the composite of its members' talent is effective only to the degree that the "team" functions as a team. In other words, the talent will have its desired proper effect only if there is also a commitment to. stay in the struggle: not give up on one another or the tasks at hand, deal with conflict rather than avoid it, work through dif-ferences honestly and directly, do the hard work of repairing trust when it is broken (mend wounds and clar-ify misunderstandings), speak out of principle and com-passion, and so on. Discernment can assist communities in electing indi-viduals who have the flair and the desire or willingness to work as team members, but teams are not elected. Rather, the individuals elected form themselves into a team. It is, however, incumbent upon those electing to look at more than the composite of talents, at more than the rtsum~s. How homogeneous or different the team members are in their styles, beliefs, and abilities is impor-tant only insofar as the composite captures what you have collectively claimed is important. No one person has all of these gifts, but as a whole the team you elect 63.3 2004 Dunn ¯ Election and Communal Discernment should resemble what the community has discerned to be necessary both in mixture of talents and in preferred style of working together. Gifts of Discernment: Wisdom, Relationship, and Light At any given time some of you can see farther and better than others. Some of you are around the curve and up the hill before others. At another time someone else may have the greater vantage point and see what is on or over the horizon. On journeys everyone has a unique perspective to offer. Some can see what has been, others can see what is, and still others can see what is probably ahead. All of you play a part in understanding and discerning the collective truth. One sign of a discerning group is that it allows for its communal "truth" to be born from the womb of the whole. The truth that r~diates from everyone, if shared by all through open dialogue in the Spirit, can become a wisdom that is beyond the sum of all the contributions. When imbued with the Spirit, communal discernment can transcend individual wisdom and thereby bring a deeper understanding of God's intentions. I would like to offer a quotation (source unknown) that expresses what I consider the heart of communal discernment: "I sought my God and God abandoned me; I sought my soul and it eluded me; I sought my brother and sister--and found all three." This is very much the essence of discernment. It is a spiritual group pilgrimage inspired by our strong human desire for relationship and our search for love and understanding. It is persohal, but it is also spiritual and relational. Communal dis, cernment involves private and shared prayer, private and shared reflection, private and shared understandings of how the Spirit is experienced within each of you and among all of you. You choose this journey in search of Review for Religious God's will in order to decide personal and shared direc-tions. You commit yourselves to this soul-searching, truth-telling pilgrimage out of your yearning to be closer to God and one another. Communal discernment is, without question, an invi-tation to walk intimately with one another. Communal discernment is not a side-by-side experience wherein you share fruit that you found by yourself in prayer. It is an ever deepening conversation about your faith and your experience of one another along the way. You are invited to share not only good things you have found, but also your labor: you are to share in giv-ing birth. It is an awesome invitation to meet God in another human being and to discover who that stranger is on the road to Emmaus. We human beings often seek God when we are dis-turbed, when we are displaced from our comfort zone of the known, the familiar, and the safe. It is because of our poverty, our powerlessness, because of becoming aware of our fractured selves, that we. seek the healing, understanding presence of God and one another. The gift of our disturbance is that our passions are unearthed, the status quo is challenged, and what we have always known is no longer enough. We yearn for, and are fright-ened by, God's invitation to enter the mystery of our humanness. Yet our faith tells us that new life is found here, in the struggle, in this privileged place where Jesus lives. This place, where we meet Jesus in one another, is a profound gift of discernment. Communal discernment also offers the gift of light. It challenges you to recognize how you can fool yourself When imbued with the Spirit, communal discernment can transcend individual wisdom. 241 . 63.3 2004 Dunn * Election and Communal Discernment in order to get what you want and camouflage it as being "of God." It challenges you to catch how you hide from yourself and eclipse a deeper truth. This is where you are invited to reckon with your hidden payoffs for keep-ing your.own goodnes~ under wraps. This is where you can ask yourselves questions like ".What does grace enable me to be?" and "What on earth is holding me back from claiming this?" This is where your loyalties to the way things have always been, to the relationships that have given you life, come face-to-face with your fidelity to the truth you keep getting more awareness of. This is where current realities insist upon new wineskins and new patterns of being and relating. This is where your growing edges encroach upon the status quo of relationships, causing you to look anew at what you have hidden from one ~nother and kept from the people you love. Discernment is an attitude of listening, listening to the intimate whispers of God through prayer and through your conversations. It is a quiet process of attun-ing yourself to God's voice, giving special attention to urgings toward new life. Listen for the yes that radiates from within. Listen to fugitive t.ruths, and do not turn away-from newborn insights, so that all of you together manage to hear and see more truth. Listen to everyone as if you are listening for the first time, without conjur-ing up the cries of your old wounds .or letting the white noise of a hundred thumbnail reputations blur your attentiveness. Listen to God's urgings toward a future just beyond your grasp, but. reachable if you let go and give yourself to it. The paradox of discernment is that once you have adapted and become adjusted, once you have privately prayed, sifted, and sorted, you must again "let go" and be influenced by the Spirit working within and among you. You must be willing to take in new information, feel new Review for Religious feelings, and again be influenced by one another. You must seek the gift of interior freedom, of spiritual indif-ference, as to the outcome. Ideally, you will find a way to hold all personal agendas and desires, all hopes and wishes, all values and passions, in an attitude of openness. Ideally, you will experience being deeply rooted yet hold-ing on to things lightly. In this kind of freedom, God's intentions and those of all of you are together. This is neither blind Obedience nor stern self-denial. Rather, it is a transcending of self with eyes wide open as together you follow, or keep trying to follow, God's lead on this journey of faith. God is ceaselessly inviting us into the mystery of relationships, the mystery, of our humanness, the mystery of our life in Christ. ' Late August Blooms are bur, ning themselves out in backyard gardens. During evening's lengthenihg gloom the whirring chhnt of Iocu's.ts ebbs "and rises. '. ." Musk of squash and pumpkin n~w replaces headier,scents ofMayand June. You tooare seasoned, pausing between ripeness and the threadbare husks of winter. But within you the blueflame of chicory along country roads burns like a votive candle before the God of harvests. Patricia Schnapp RSM 63.3 2004 BARBARA SUDOL Frances Siedliska's Mystical Life heritages Frahces Siedliska was born on 12 November 1842 in Roszkowa Wola, near.Warsaw, Poland, of aristocratic parents, Adolph Siedliski and Cecilia Morawska Siedliski, and died in Rome on 21 November 1902. Her parents were wealthy landowners in the village of Zdzary, where their manor was situated. She had one sibling, a brother, Adam. In her early life Frances displayed intelligence, a love for beauty and music, and an elegance and maturity beyond her years. She also had a quick temper and a tenacious stubbornness, often matching her father in a clash of wills; In 1875, at the age of thirty-one, she would found the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth,~ but in her childhood, religion was all but absent in the Siedliski home. Her parents, like other contemporary Polish aristocratic families, were indifferent to reli-gion. Materialism, rampant worldwide, and positivism discarded all that was supernatural, including religion. The nobility, identifying Barbara Sudol CSFN writes from 61-03 56th Avenue; Maspeth, New York 11373. Review for Reli~ous ,Catholicism with Polish patriotism, became the defending wall of the church, yet it did not know the church, did not understand it, and did not give wimess to it by their lives. (Strzalkowska, 16) Such an irreligious familial atmosphere had its effect on Frances's spiritual life. She walked in the darkness of religious ignorance until a Capuchin friar, Father Leander Lendzian, prepared her for her first Holy Communion, on 1 May 1855. He opened Frances's soul to religion and a growing spiritual life, notwithstanding much pressure from Adolphe Siedliski, who desired his daughter to live a more worldly life and enter into a mar-riage befitting her social station. But such a life was not to be for Frances. Her love of God grew throughout her life until her death in 1902 at the age of sixty. Her auto-biography, journals, letters, and other extensive writings to her sisters and to various members of the clergy give testimony to this love. Early in her religious life, Frances experienced the spiritual passivity of mysticism, a passivity that would enable her to give more and more of herself to God. She writes: In his mercy Jesus continued gifting me with ever deep-ening prayer., so that at times nothing else mattered, only., sometimes he takes away from me the ability to meditate, to have any feelings, and directs me to an immediate experience and acceptance of his holy truth. Then he suspends my faculties and . . . fills my soul according to his divine pleasure. (Strzalkowska, 58) Always she looked to God for her consolation and support, even in the midst of great difficulties, for with her emotional and mental suffering came physical suf-fering. Her health was flail, but, remaining in close union with God, she never permitted it to stop her from ardu-ous travel and time-consuming correspondence. As a foundress she went through all the rigor, heartache, legal-ism, and deprivation that are part of the early days of any 63.3 2004 Sudol * Frances Siedliska's Mystical Life foundation, all the while progressing on .the mystical way and entering more fully in(o deep prayer and union With God. In her diary she writes: "I knelt at Your fee~, and you drew my soul to yourself. It s~emed to me that I had left my body and was .moving toward you, my Love." She continues: "Later I fell into a deep stillness. My spiritual faculties were absorbed into a glorious intuition of God, of my Lord Jesus. At that time no word, no feeling, seemed appropriate or timely. I nee'ded to be drawn by and submerged in the love of my God" (Strzalkowska, 64). But there was even more.,Before,the end of her life, Frances was given the grace of espousal with God. In her diary she writes: ¯ I was at Mass at St. Claude's . My soul remained near Jesu~s in a spirit of elation. After Communion I experienced a strong desire which I expressed to.him , present within me. I asked Jesus to espouse my soul forever . Yet, as i pondered what it means to be a spouse of God, and as I looked at myself, I had not the courage ~o ask Jesus for this great grace. Instead, I humbled myself and abased myself while in my heart I sensed this message: "What I am doing for you now consider as an espousal, for I am espousing you to myself, uniting your soul to mine." (Strzalko.wska, 66) She wrote, kneeling, the constitutions and statutes that her congregation would ~idopt as their way of life, and she kriew the joy as well as the disappointment that comes with living in community. At her death she left two hundred and ninety-one sisters on both sides of the Atlantic, and a total of seventy-two youthful novices and postulants who would find in Nazareth their incentive to scale the heights she had envisioned; she was relinquishing without misgi ~vings twenty-nine ¯.houses .of Nazareth, centers of apostolic services in Europe and the United'States. (De Chantal, 128) In Frances Siedliska there was the delicate combina-tion of deep prayer life and vigorous-activity. Her coop- Review for Religious eration with God's grace was a daily undertaking, a con-scious decision to refuse Godnothing. For her generosity God gave her everything, including the heavy burden of the cross. "In .the mystical life, one passes from one layer to the next in an inner or downward journey to the core of the personality where dwells the great mystery called God--God who cannot be known .directly, cannot be seen, and who dwells in thick darkness" (Johnston, 127). If she experienced the dark night of the senses through her continual death to self in her relationships, journeys, and hardships in establishing the congregation, she also entered into the dark night of the soul, particularly in 1892, when she was fifty years old. Father Anthony Lechert, who had been her spiritual director and also a director for her Nazareth community, was removed from that position by his re.ligious superiors as a result of calumnious reports about him and his dealings with her and her sisters. In Frances Siedliska there was the delicate combination of deep prayer life and vigorous activity. 1892 marked the beginning of the mys.tic passion of Mother Siedliska; it would perdure another ten years and end with her death . Her physical suffering was accompanied by prolonged and oppressive moral suffering which, as the consequence of the event~ of 1892, she was compelled to bear and which she accepted in fullest conformity to the divine will. (Ricciardi, 244) Frances entered into her personfil dark night of the soul while continuing an indefatigable active life as foundress of her growing congregation. "Some circum-stances, particularly those surrounding the difficulties 63.3 2004 Sudol ¯ Frances Siedliska's Mystical Life of 1892 and the years following, including problems that affected the American foundation, placed Mother Siedliska in the crucible of calumny, a victim of treach-ery and lack of understanding" (Ricciardi, 379). Witnesses gave written testimony to the fact that Frances remained steadfast in her devotion to God and to the congregation, offering forgiveness to those who had injured her reputation and even personally doing good to them. To live a mystical life is no easy task, but the path of mysticism begins in a progression of steps. Only rarely are people given the grace of apophatic mysticism, as Frances Siedliska was. By her great love she gave her-self completely to God. Her greatest legacy to her reli-gious community was her belief in love: God's Love and her own love for each person. She understood the gospel imperative to love and knew well how difficult loving is in practice. God had already given himself to her as her Good Shepherd, her Rock, and her Lord. Note ' Actually Frances Siedliska founded the congregation when she sought and obtained on 1 October 1873 Pope Pius IX's approval and blessing to begin the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Fa~mily of Nazareth. In Rome in 1875 she opened the first permanent convent of the congregation. Works Cited De Chantal, Sister M., CSFN. Out of Nazareth. New York: Exposition Press, 1974. Johnston, William. The Inner Eye of Love: Mysticism and Religion. San Francisco: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1978. Ricciardi, Antonio. Hi~ Will Alone: The Life of Mother Mary of Jesus the Good Shepherd. Trans. Regis N. Barwig. Oshkosh, Wisconsin: Castle-Pierce Press, 1971. Strzalkowska, Sister M. Inez, CSFN. For Me to Live Is Christ. Trans. Sister Mary Paul Krasowski CSFN. Pittsburgh: Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth, 1995. Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Is Even More Good Coming from Nazareth? On what would be one of my happiest days as a Jesuit, I went to a religious house in a village, at that time the only house of its kind in India. (That was about thirty-five years ago, when I was a student of the-ology. Today there are only two such houses in India.) The house, unlike other religious houses I had lived in or seen, was in no way different from the other houses in the village street. It belonged to the Little Brothers of Jesus. Three of them, two from France and one from Belgium, were living like the villagers in almost every respect except that they worked with the leprosy patients, prayed together regularly as Christians in an Indian way, and, unlike Indian males especially of those days, cooked their own meals. Welcomed into their little tiled house of four small rooms--including a kitchen, a chapel, find a storeroom for medicines used in their paramedical work--I felt much at home and that religious life itself was at home there in close contact with the people around. I saw the brothers being all things to all people, learning the cus- A. Paul Dominic SJ writes again from Missionaries of the Poor; Fatima Nagar; Warangal 506 004; India. 63.3 2004 Dominic ¯ Is Even More Good Coming~/~om Nazareth? toms and beliefs of ~eir Hindu neighbors, joining their celebrations, speaking their Tamil language though amusingly with a French lilt, preparing and enjoying the local variety of quite spicy food, lending an ear to the varied tales of the young and old, lending a measure of rice occasionally, or just giving away a handful of chilies when a neighbor ~ent her child asking for some, and so on--ahd I felt a new thrill regarding religious life, at once Christian and Indian! The people of Alampoondi, the village in which the brothers had settled, witnessed all that, but they had no idea of their identity except as foreigners and Christians. With their little knowledge of church matters, they could not of course have any idea of the newcomers' being members of a religious congregation, the Litde .Brothers of Jesus. Did even knowledgeable Christians know of their existence? Like myself, hardly any of my theology companions had heard about their surprising way of life, although the Little Brothers, admittedly few in number, were keeping.up a quiet and unassuming but distinct presence on all the continents. A New Charism of Living and Working The Little Brothers' charism, as I learned from the brothers in India, is to live as Jesus lived at Nazareth, unknown and unheralded but unfailingly helpful in lit-tle ways. Who would want such a charism? ~About the Little Brothers who have taken to it eagerly and seri-ously, an outsider like me can say that they have shown themselves faithful to it. The first Little Brothers who came and settled in India have not given up hope of their continuing presence although they have attracted less than a half dozen Indian followers despite the consid-erable numbers of religious vocations here. In October 1933 Ren~ Voillaume and a few of his friends, all of them newly ordained, left their native Review for Religious France and went to E1-Abiodh-Sidi-Cheik in the Algerian Sahai'a and started living the Nazarene charism as a group. VoiHaume served as their elected prior from the beginning till 1965. On 13 May 2003 he died .at the age of ninety-seven. His death, if I am not mistaken, did not get much attention in the Christian. press or even among members of religious orders and congregations, let alone in the secular world. Maybe it could not have been different, but I incline to think that it was what it should hav.e been, given his and his brothers' choice to live in today's world like Jesus at Nazareth, in hidden mystery amid plain or harsh earthly reality. He died just as he had lived, with no splash of publicity for having accomplished some widely recognized good, though of course God knows all he did in the Nazareth-like places where he and his brothers lived. I came to know of his death by chance, but at the very' place where I first felt the spell of his humble charism. Here I would like to present an account of it as a loving tribute to Voillaume, and I hope a true one. The Original Recipient of This Charism ¯ The inspiration for Voillaume and his companions was an aristocrat named Charles de Foucauld (1858- 1). Though born in a devout Catholic family .and educated in Jesuit schools,Foucauld turned his back on Christianity at sixteen and entered military service only to quit it because of his undisciplined and even disso-lute ways. Later, around 1880, he went on an expedition to unexplored parts of Morocco and returned to pub-lish his findings in a book that won him fame. Still he was restless, least suspecting that the human heart is restless until it rests in God. In late October 1886 he found himself converted, in the confessional though he had gone there without wanting to confess. Once he was converted he knew the raison d'etre of his existence: to 63.3 2004 Dominic ¯ Is Even More Good Coming from Nazareth? live for God and only for God. He came to discover the person of Jesus as God's incarnate Son. He entered and left the Trappists and then became a priest, only to feel a compelling urge to be like Jesus not only inwardly but even outwardly. Out of love he wanted to reproduce in himself the life of Jesus at Nazareth, hidden, humble, hardworking, and helpful to others. In a letter he describes himself thus: The ,gospel proved to me that the "the first com-mandment" was for me to love God with all my heart, and that I must put everything within that love; and, as everybody knows, one of the effects of love is imitation. ¯ . . I did not feel at all made for imitating him in his public life and his preaching; I consequently knew I must imitate the hidden life of the poor and humble workman of Nazareth.~ As he delved into the hidden treasure of Nazareth, he found that he could not keep it private: his newfound pearl of vision was not for himself alone. He hoped that it would become a pattern of life for others too. But, however much he wanted to have companions to live with him, he was not to have even one up to the day he died tragically. Even his tragedy was not perceived as greatness. He died as the two French soldiers visiting him did, victims caught in a tribal conflict, shot in the head by a frightened Tuareg youth. What could the worth of his life be? But his story, told only briefly here, got circulated in his native France. Surprising stories began to be told of men and women, young and old, married and unmarried, from different walks of life, who sought to live in the spirit of Jesus the Nazarene somewhat as Foucauld did. Such was his influ-ence within a decade after his death that at least one col-lege removed a biography of Foucauld from its library for fear that too many young people might be drawn to his unusual example. Review for Religious The Nazareth Brand of Religious Life Among those who could not deny his impact on their life, Voillaume and his four friends may be ranked first. They were the first to attempt as a group to live their lives according to Foucauld's vision, and their attempt has stood the test of the times. Their fraternity (as they liked to call their group) centered their life on Jesus' way of living at Nazareth. Voillaume has reflected on this and spoken of Nazareth as a complete form of reli-gious life. Following Foucauld, he discerned in Nazareth a type of religious life undreamt-of before and, I am afraid, largely unknown even now. Religious life modeled on Nazareth is distinct, he pointed out, from the hidden life of many a traditional novitiate. It is unlike the lives of Carthusians or enclosed Carmelites, and it is also dif-ferent from the lives that ded-icated lay people lead in the footsteps of Jesus, the work-man at Nazareth. These three versions of Nazareth do not go beyond certain aspects. Voillaume's version diverges from them in discovering something new, even though it is at one with all the earlier forms of religious life inas-much as it does not swerve from the spiritual reality of freely promising to God, with the public approval of the church, to live in chastity, poverty, and obedience. Instead of following the Jesus of the public life, the Little Brothers follow the Jesus of the hidden life. They renounce a distinct habit, large or isolated buildings of their own, and large enterprises or projects. They choose to live like the ordinary worker that Jesus was: poor and humble and unavoidably involved with and even depen-dent on others. They live in an aura of prayer, much Their fraternity centered their life on Jesus' way of livin, g at Nazareth. 63.3 2004 Dominic * Is Even More Good Coming from Nazareth? prayer, so as to grow in favor with God and their fellow human beings as Jesus, did in ,Nazareth.2 Some of this may seem to ignore things indispensable to religious life. But are they? Or are they just means for0a particular way of living the three vows? And can one: not conceive of a~true religious life that makes less use of traditional means and ye~ proves to be a sure road to the ex;angelical perfection of the joyous embrace of the three vows? In this spirit Voillaume says: Such a road has been opened up for us by Father de Foucauld. It lies in sharing the lot of the workers and the other poor, with all the consequences involved, and being a living presence of Christ among them) Voillaume explains this new spirit and style of religious life: Less attention is paid to sheltering oneself off from risks by means of separations, or to being helped by observances superimposed upon one's daily occupa-tions, than to ordering one's entire life into a single moy.ement of charity for Christ and or_tier people, and learning to use the very difficulties attendant Upon such a life as so many mean~ to self-dispossession and the very concrete realization of one's profession of the . three vows? A Name of Prideand Humility . The Nazareth-based form of religious life described above may be further appreciated by reflecting-on the name that Voillaume and his companiong; following Foucauld; gave to their group: Little Brothers of Jesus. No one can. mistake where .their love was. Their love was not .for ~an unusual, heroic, rele~cant ideal surpass-ing the old, but for Jesus; and so they gave their hearts, their.very selves, to the person of Jesus. By their name they.made a claim on Jesus;~ ofbelonging to himand his belonging to them. (In this they have measured up'to the holy ambition of the,original b'and of Jesuits,. and Review for Religious may have stolen a march on some of my brother Jesuits.) The brothers' loyal love is not a romantic thing. They have found him whom they love in persevering faith, in their common Eucharist, in the Gospels, and in their neighborhood,s In their very love for Jesus, they turn to people and attend to their urgent, unfilled needs such as their need for justice. They are. wise enough not to be misled: they know the lurking temptation of sincere Christian apostles to think, in Voillaume's words, "that one does not have the time to look towards Jesus and love him as he should be loved: for himself." He coun-sels his Little Brothers that they have their set task right there: It is to act as the "regard" of men today upon Jesus, to be in Jesus' presence the "standing delegates" of the forgetful crowd, carrying to him in their place their adoration, their needs, their complaints, and their faults.6 Are they here inspired by Jesus' approval of Mary of Bethany "wasting" costly ointment on him? By their name Little Brothers of Jesus, they mean to express how their love of Jesus marks their way of loving others, including one another. Voillaume can say to his brothers: If we are to be of any "use" at all in the world,' it will be for having been faithful enough to allow a bit of Christ's immense love for men to appear through our.hearts and our comportment . If we are really united with our Lord, if we keep our eyes trained upon.Jesus living and working at Nazareth, then, like Father de Foucauld, we shall be able to remain open to people's solicita-tions. 7 So, as brothers of Jesus, they become brothers of all according to the revelation that all people are to be con-sidered brothers and sisters and not titled personages (Mr 23:8-10). Abhorring all superiority, they behave as 63.3 2004 Dominic * Is Even More Good Coming from Nazaretb? brothers who imitate Jesus in his redeeming love. Inspired thus, they contact specially the poorest just as they are and because of what they are, persons bereft of all power. In doing this they are aware of God calling each one by.name in the intimacy of lovefl and so they too aim at reaching out to individuals as if each one were the only soul to be loved in the world. They do not cal-culate their mission success in terms of administering and applying approved techniques and technologies. If in their love they feel the urge to give Jesus to people and help people find their lofiged-for kingdom of God, it is in the unglamorous way of being the salt of the earth or the world's ordinary daylight.9 Voillaume challenges his brothers: So long as our love has not reached the point where it has made us truly capable of showing them that the kingdom of Jesus is for them, and that it has even begun to be present in their midst through us, we shall not have met the demands of Jesus' love upon us. The kingdom must be able to appear to them through us in all its realness: th~ patience, the peace, the force of Christ, and also Christ's demands for justice--all this enveloped, as it were, in love and void of all hatred (even when it is right to fight),l° Another challenge, even a greater one, facing the Little Brothers is love among themselves. Though this challenge may appear common to all religious, the Little Brothers are not quite the same. Modeling their very lives on the homely life of Nazareth can foster mutual friendship in a supernatural way. Voillaume says: It is our Lord's friendship that has gathered us together, and the human features of friendship, visible in ourselves, are something we must labor to produce. It is our duty gradually to become true friends, even though it may seem that by nature we are not self-evidently made for each other.~l Review for Religious This is something that I am afraid may often slip the attention of religious of every kind. The brothers choose to be litde. They choose to live within littleness, the mystery of littleness. It is a part of their learned ignorance (docta ignorantia). I have been amazed by their fund of knowledge and grasp of what is going on among religious and in church circles and in the world at large. Is it because they are little and thus open to learn? Being little, they also surely strive to keep grow-ing in their love of Jesus and of their fellow human beings. The proof is that they embrace the hard way of the poverty of little people. Knowing, however, that such a life and such a mission are impossible for humanity's lit-tleness, they look to God, for whom everything is pos-sible (Mt 19:23-26). Their way of mission is so different from the usual apostolates that it may not even seem to be mission work. In traditional Christian circles, eyebrows are surely raised at the Little Brothers. Failing to understand what they intend by their style of life, their poverty and their appar-ent unproductiveness, many Christians, including ecclesi-astics, may consider them useless for the church. But, following their own vocation, the Litde Brothers opt to be unprofitable servants in the eyes of people who do not-- but to my mind should--know better. They know that, if they are to instill the beatitudes in people's hearts, no activ-ity that takes them out from among the poor, the mourn-ful, the hungry, and so forth would be in keeping with the little way marked out by Jesus for them.~2 Their name, Little Brothers, expresses Jesus' humble and soaring spirit. A Mission Common and Yet Uncommon For a further understanding of the Little Brothers' charism, reflect that their mission is to be, in little ways, hands of Jesus in touching the lives of his least brothers and sisters. Though the Little Brothers share with other 63.3 2004 Dominic ¯ Is Even More Good Coming from Nazareth? religious congregations one and the same mission from Christ, the way they discharge it is unique,13 as indeed it should be in the case of every charism. A simplistic and falsifying view must be avoided here. Voillaume is very insistent on this. He points out that well-meaning peo-ple could give a wrong picture of the Little Brothers' mission with a "wooden and detestable definition" such as this: "The Petits Fr~res are not engaged in this activ-ity or that; they must not be involved in anything, but simply give an example."14 As Voillaume envisages it, the Little Brothers' life is to be far different: They will be poor in all things except God, and be of little apparent use, sharing the weariness of those who labor, their sole purpose being the proclamation of the Savior's gospel. They will submit their thoughts and deeds to the divine friendship in order that they may make known to those around them the infinite mystery of that friendship towards men, hidden from all eternity, but revealed to us in the heart of Christ.~s Their lives are, then, obviously bound up with two vibrant movements closely combined: being or becom-ing oneself enriched with God and also enriching others, particularly the masses of poor laboring people. Their twinned vocation may be expressed as contemplation of God and comforting their neighbors by their presence. These two elements, invisible and visible, which consti-tute the life of the Little Brothers, are commonly viewed as mutually exclusive. People contrast the contempla-tive and active vocations, or else see them as combined, but with prominence given to action for the good of the neighbor. The Little Brothers give equal importance to contemplation and their neighbors' good, but their con-templation is not like that of the cloistered,16 and the help they give their neighbors is far from the various well-defined goals of apostolic communities. Some brothers have lived as regular members in a Revie*v for Religious kibbutz in Israel. They shared and enjoyed the life and work there as much as the others did. Living poorly, they appeared happily settled, though unmarried. They impressed others as lov-ing, and they surprised them by praying regu-larly and unashamedly. The young Israelis were intrigued enough to ask what made them live like that. They were told that, if they were really eager to know, they had better contact some of the many religious in Tel Aviv. But they would not; they said, "No, we don't want to hear from others; we are not interested in their codes or customs. What we want is to understand your life from your own telling.'"7 One of the Little Brothers was a prisoner among prisoners, though known to the authorities to be inno-cent of any crime. He had sought and found admittance to a prison, and lived there sharing the life of the con-victs and offering them his unsought presence and friendship. Surely the prisoners needed to be instructed and converted, but the lone brother was not there to serve as a chaplain, nor did he mean to function as a social worker helping them to find money for their needs or to establish contact with their family or to do some-thing of the kind. What he wanted was to love them as a friend, standing by them and sharing with them all the physical and mental hardships of imprisonment though he himself did not deserve them2s In such circumstances the brothers are not concerned with expla!ning them-selves to people, but with so doing things with them or Their twinned vocation may be expressed as contemplation of God and comforting their neighbors by their presence. 63.3 2004 Dominic * Is Even More Good Coming from Nazaretb? for them that they cannot avoid being aware of God's nearness in some slight way at least. The Little Brothers' particular grace and genius in this matter may be expressed in one word, presence, total pres-ence to God and total presence to the poor people around, a presence that cannot but be humble. It may be called unpretentious prophetic presence, that is, the presence of a prophet drawn by God to himself and sent to people and sent by their plight back to God. It is reminiscent of Jesus' long years at Nazareth: ever turned toward God and toward the needy people near at hand. Whatever Jesus' double stance might have looked like, one thing is certain: he would have been burning with zeal for God's mission among these burdened people. His zeal showed itself in the temple at the dawn of his adulthood and would have continued during his adult years at Nazareth. There, how-ever, it could ordinarily find expression only in his daily commonplace contacts with people, and could only be fully exercised fully in the realm of the Spirit. In the Spirit he was attuned to Abba, his Father, and to his Father's mys-terious mission of compassion for the human race. At the same time he was intimate with the people in and around Nazareth, in a way that was both human and divine. That is to say, he looked upon and loved and desired the good of everyone he met, in accord with his Father's love and desire.19 This was, then, contemplative attention to God and to people needing redemption. It was a contempla-tion of God's compassion and of people's condition in the light of God's personal care for them. Such contempla-tion can occur only with the constant activity of God him-self in life's present moments. Such a life is one of intercession for people, and the people may perceive it as such. The Little Brothers learn to do as Jesus did. Voillaume explains: In our time this awareness has become more vivid than ever, and it has reached the point when many have Review for Religious come to feel that they must give concrete expression to this permanent commission to pray in the name of mankind by really sharing the circumstances of men's lives. This new way of imitating the life of Jesus of Nazareth, this summons to be united with that Man- God who was also one of the workmen of his native village, is in fact a development in the nature of prayer itself. Our own vocation has followed this course.2° One of his Little Brothers put it more simply and sharply, to the delight of Voillaume: "We are the voice of the poor, their liturgy.''2~ Each Group in Its Place For those who are still wondering about the import of this vocation, Voillaume has said: The Brotherhood's position in the church is very hum-ble, and their way of life must not be interpreted as a criticism or a failure to appreciate the other forms of the apostolate which the church approves. At the same time, the apostolate of the Petits Fr~res seems to meet a new need for the evangelization of the world which it is well we should realize)~ In saying this he shows the healthy tension of a man who appreciates the continuing value of traditional approaches in the present, and yet cannot deny the new demands that our changed times make. I think this is what Brother Michael, his successor as prior general in the 1990s, meant by what he wrote to me in a letter: "Ren6 Voillaume has been given an unusual charism: he trans-mitted the message of Nazareth life against his own feel-ings!" So it seems the inheritors of that charism have to live experiencing in themselves the attraction and tension of bipolar ideals. More could be said, but let Ren6 Voillaume have the last word: The ideal of life of the Petits Fr~res through its twofold requirement of contemplation and of pres- 63.3 2004 Dominic ¯ Is Even More Good Coming from Na~aretb? ence among men, and also through the nature of the means envisaged for carrying it out, constitutes indeed a new and original form of religious life.23 Notes I Ren6 Voillaume, Seeds of the Desert (London: Burns and Oates, n.d.), p. 24 n.2. ~ Seeds, p. 12. 3 Seeds, p. 53. 4 Seeds, pp. 53-54. s See Seeds, p. 70. 6 Seeds, p. 7 I. 7 Seeds, pp. 72-73. s See Brothers of Men (Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1966), p. 142. 9 See Seeds, pp. 74-77. to Seeds, p. 76. ii Brothers, p. 52. lz See Seeds, p. 80, and Brothers, p. 23. 13 See Ren6 Voillaume, Follow Me (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1978), p. 64. 14 Brothers, p. 195. is Brothers, p. 134. 16 See Seeds, pp. 60, 63, 65. 17 Ren~ Voillaume, Faith and Contemplation (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1974), p. 111. is See Brothers, pp. 145-146. 19 See Follow, p. 141. 2o Brothers, pp. 90-91. 21 Brothers, p. 91. 22 Brothers, p. 138. ~ Brothers, p. 122. Review for Religious RENI~E NIENABER Not for the Faint of Heart: Journaling into Honest Prayer Within a short time, three of my closest rela-tives died. A fourth death was imminent. With too much heaviness to hold any longer, I had to find a way to deal with my grief and anger. Journaling became my path into honest prayer. At one breakthrough I wrote to God in letters big enough to read through my tears: !'Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Slowly my response came, not with the earth opening to devour me, but with a deep, endur-ing peace. God had answered my fierce words with comforting silence. Anyone who prays with raw candor is in good company. Such honesty with God charac-terizes some of our famous ancestors in the faith, who impolitely told God when they had had enough. Jacob, Jeremiah, Jonah, and Job wres-tled with God. There is modeling for honest Ren6e Nienaber SND writes again from St. Mary of the Assumption Parish; 121 West Main Street; Alexandria, Kentucky 41001. 63.3 2004 Nienaber ¯ Not for the Faint of Heart prayer in the Lament psalms: the psalmist gives God a piece of his mind! The prophets likewise were never afraid to speak to God from their gut. Even Jesus in Gethsemane begged that the cup of suffering be taken away, and he cried out on the cross, feeling forsaken. In more recent centuries the complaint of Teresa of Avila, doctor of the church, was "If this is how you treat your friends, no wonder you have so few." Tevye, the strug-gling father in the play and movie Fiddler on the Roof, asks God in frustration, "Would it spoil some vast, eter-nal plan if I were a wealthy man?" We too can speak to God with such holy boldness. Spirituality deals with all aspects of life, not just the pious parts. Our jealous Lover wants all of us with no doors locked. Honest Journaling--and Us and God Many people are afraid to pray with honesty, think-ing that God will love us only if we are polite. Early training taught some of us to leave our problems at the door of the church. Rather, prayer needs to be a come-as- we-are experience. Spirituality is not just for the pious, but also for us who get wounded in the battles of every-day life and need somewhere to go with our pain. True prayer is about gathering up all of the stuff of our lives and offering it to God. The spiritual life challenges us to be not just holy but real: true to ourselves in all sorts of inner weather. Honesty, the essence of the eighth com-mandment, is essential for every relationship, including the divine/human one. To improve human relationships, sometimes people have to sit down and thrash things out. Similarly, at times we need to bring to God even the parts we would prefer to suppress. God does not want marionettes but real people with real emotions. The One who knocks on our door wants entrance into the whole truth of our lives. Some people, however, fear that they will be struck dead if they bring Review for Religious their frustration or anger to God. Rather, we might pic-ture God with strong, anthropomorphic shoulders--big enough to embrace us even when we feel far below par. We do not have to be on our good behavior with God in order to be loved. We speak about God as all-wise, about Jesus as "the way, the truth, and the life," and about the Spirit as our indwelling guide. This God wants to communicate that wisdom and truth to us from within our very beings. Jesus even seeks us out in our messiness, as he did the disciples on the way to Emmaus. He asks us, "What are you discussing as you go your way?" (Lk 24:17). Why Write This Type of Prayer? Why write in order to be honest with God? History has many examples of peo-ple who journaled in order to get in touch with their inner depths. Some in the last century were Pope John xxIII, Dag Hammarskj61d, and Anne Frank. Writing helped them clarify their sometimes confused and scattered thoughts, and it can help us. Journaling can provide both focus and per-spective. Putting pen to paper without editing can bring clarity that we would never achieve in our conscious mind alone. Some people will say they "can't write." But unedited journaling is not for anyone else to see. Spelling, punc-tuation, grammar, handwriting--none of these count. To many, writing honest prayer might still seem impos-sible, and people seldom try something if they expect to fail. But I hope readers will learn from the examples If we are afraid to be angry with God, at least writing is a silent outlet. 63.3 2004 Nienaber ¯ Not for the Faint of Heart below that the prayer of honest journaling can open wide a door to both themselves and God. If we are afraid to be angry with God, at least writ-ing is a silent outlet. Some polite people, when they dare to confront, prefer to write a note rather than to yell. Writing also helps people listen to the divine. This prayer communicates both ways. Especially when we are trou-bled, we need to be still and wait upon the Lord, as the psalmist says, asking for divine insight that we might not otherwise receive, If the wisdom from God is in writing, or between the lines, we have a better chance that it will touch our lives more than a fleeting inspiration does. Examples of Honest Journaling Following are ten samples excerpted from twenty years of honest journaling. Names have been omitted and some situations adapted to preserve anonymity. The summary titles, numbered 1 to 10, were of course added afterwards. My candid words addressed prayerfully to God are in roman type, and what seem to be God's can-did responses are in italic type. 1. God wants to reveal not only our sin but also the divine hesed (steadfast love or loving kindness). What do you want me to learn through this contin-ual frustration with A? Sbe presses a lot of buttons in you that are still deep, dark recesses of sinfulness: anger, resentment, negativity, revenge, self-pity, barred. Wow! That's pretty ugly! Much uglier than what she. did to me. I guess I thank you for letting me see this dark side. What good is it to see these faults? The more you're aware, the less power they'll bare over you. ~ls you become.more bumble and less reactive, the more connected you will be witb people and freer from this gravity. It's pretty ugly, yet you love me. You pick me up and kiss my wounds. You love me in my sinfulness. You allow Review for Religious me to journey to a deeper level of self-knowledge and awareness of being clothed in your grace, your love, your mercy, your truth (albeit painfully). 2. God wants to help us get through a problem, not bail us out. Is there something you want to say to me? Are you back to that feeling of being le~ out? Toujours--well, just more often than I wish, and B was the perfect catalyst for it. Ab, B, the lady you love to bate. She is so perfect, so superior, and so sure of how to do things better. She really tapped into a lot of your stuff I know. Help me sort through my stuff. Help you through? I will, but not by taking it away. This will keep you bumble-that quality you admire in otber people. This will always be your Achilles' bed. Will you love me just the same if1 help you through it rather than remove it? What a silly question. Will I still love you? Is there any other way to life? 3. God promises to help us forgive. God, I need your help to forgive her again. I hope I can last through this year. I will be with you. Remember my love, shown through the surprise ice cream and your notes from C. I appreciate any kindness you send my way because I'm feeling pretty crummy. Much is going well for you. I know. Thanks. But every day I have to forgive her. You are growing. And I am suffering. I know. I am with you. Remember that I'm not just remote, way out there, but very close in the workings of every day. I'm not sure. I'll try to cooperate with you. For now, help me forgive her once more. You are all I have. 7- 63.3 2004 Nienaber ¯ Not for the Faint of Heart That's not such a bad place to be. 4. God wants to calm our anger. #olo\&~÷~÷. I don~t want to find another note from D. Help me to look at this objectively and not come down too hard on her. But I am angry at having to deal with this again. Enough is enough. O.K. Your turn to speak. I'm calling you, my dear, to ever greater depths of love. I'm asking you to have your heart stretched to embrace the weak and vulnerable. I'm inviting you to have my heart towards her. Will you accept? ~Vill you be the bigger person? Will you keep the lines of communication open? Will you be a channel of my love towards her-please? She so needs human love. Will you please help me? How can I tell you no? Yet my anger is so close to the surface with her. I will belpyou. I will be withyou. Unlessyou meet her at her stage of growth, however stunted, you'll never be my pres-ence to her. You'll be the foe, and shb will regress again. This is PROGRESS??? God, save me! I will, I am, I have been. Think of her as a work in progress. You can help or hinder that progress. 5. God wants to answer our questions. Why won't the song "Carry Your Candle" leave my mind even though it's the middle of the night? You're feeling overwhelmed after your meeting with E. You realize once more that you're not part of the "in group." YOu know~that you've bitten off more than you can chew. That's all true, but what about the song? You might be wishing that you could hide some of your light under a bushel basket. You want me to bring my light not just to E but also to F? You never let up, do you? Sometimes. But you know about the hothouse effect, right? I'm trying to get a beautiful, well-formed, and well-pruned plant. Are you up .to the challenge? Only with your grace, my dear, only with your grace. Review for Religious 6. God calls us to the truth about ourselves. You're letting me see my sinfulness. A lot of anger arises in me, now more quickly and verbally. Maybe it has always been there and is just now getting a chance to be seen because of my buttons being pushed. It's not pretty, and I repent. Partly I'm sorry because my mask of niceness is coming off. Partly I'm sorry because I'm going to have to go and talk with G. The fact is, my dear, that the fault is not all in her. She's pressing your buttons. This is not all black and white. Thank you for letting me see my own sinfulness and for letting me see my need for a Savior. I too have a somewhat hardened and peevish heart. Thank you for this important lesson. Doing so many holy things, I think my nose is pretty clean. Lord, I need your amazing grace. 7. God always gives the ultimate promise. I'll put it bluntly: I'm worried about my meeting with H. We know how strong-headed she can be. You saw how she treated me in our last encounter. I don't want to be gobbled up. It's not Thanksgiving; it's Christmas. I'm surprised at how weak-kneed I still can get just think-ing about it. I don't want to challenge anyone too seri-ously. HELP! I'll never get stronger unless I face this kind of thing. May I talk now? I will give you the words you need and the courage you desire. You don't need to or want to come off like J with no feeling. If you appear weak, that's O.K. You're doing what I call you to. You need only to be faithful. Don't forget the insight and power you've recqived from me in prayer, especially in this written form. I am your God, beside you and within you. As you know well, 1 WILL BE WITH YOU ALWAYS.t 8. God sends us the light we need. I am getting sick from the black hole that is sucking out my life. So much negativity! It's beginning to affect my stomach. I didn't know if the time was ripe to say 63.3 2004 Nienaber ¯ Not for the Faint of Heart anything or not. So, once again, I swallowed my words. Dear God, speak to me. I will if you'll give me a chance and listen. Be still and know that I am God. Your God and her God. You're not going to change bet much. Maybe you can think of bet as a sick person who needs compassion. Maybe she is the lost lamb that needs to be picked up in your embrace. Maybe even she is the prodigal who needs to be welcomed with open arms. She is your responsibility to pray for. What are you doing about it? You're right. I do pray that she might find a few ounces of happiness. Help her to see your goodness in herself. And help me to treat her with a little more of the Spirit of Jesus - not just write about it. Help me to find any rays of light in the darkness. Let me .look more with your compassionate eyes, not my increasingly hard-ened eyes and face and mouth. The light is coming into the darkness. VVatcb for tbe first streaks! 9. God helps us to see more reality.than we're aware of. Why am I still so upset that it shows in my eyes? It reminds you of Mother's Day fifty years ago and the arguing, never reconciled, just stuffed. No one should ruin an important day like this for others. I hate that stupid trick called "I was only kid-ding." Doesn't she know that's a lie? She wasn't really lying. She was kidding herself, not quite aware of her motivation. I have really internalized this. Is it also about me? Yes, you hate not being the good guy. You dislike being one of the sources of controversy. You hate having "lost it" in a way you would never have done had you been fully in control. You dislike that you have to go and apologize again. You're right, as Usual. 10. God comforts.us in our disappointments. Dear God, you seem to be the only constant in my life. My family, friends, and fellow parishioners disap- Review for Religious point me. I don't want to get too Jesus-and-me-ish, but you're the only one I can really rely on. This is a self-pitying but true statement: I give out so much and receive propor-tionately so little in return. My dear child, lay your bead against me, and let go of another birthday that could never reach your expectations. I am not just bigb in the heavens but very real and very near. I am inside you, guiding you, encouraging you, shoring you up, opening new paths, loving you unconditionally, giving you loyal friends, reminding you of your v~ortb, sending people to delight you. I will always be faithful My family, friends, and fellow parishioners disappoint me. Observations, Benefits, and Suggestions One common thread throughout the above ten exam-ples is God's promise "I will be with you always"-even (or especially) in difficult situations. Jesus Christ is our Savior not just through his death and resurrection, but also in everyday situations where we need healing and hope. As with our forebears in ancient and modem times, God chooses to be present with saving grace through a whole spectrum of love: from comfort to confrontation. Some people wonder if this kind of dialogue with God comes just from an overactive imagination. If we are truly open to God, the answers we get are Truth try-ing to intersect with our confusion or our suffering. We have a God of communication. How else would the patri-archs and prophets have heard God's voice? How else would apostles and martyrs, foundresses and laypersons, have known God's will? Of course, we can be mistaken in our listening. Discernment is always needed. Many of us were trained to start the day with the Morning Offering. In it we offer to God not only our 63.3 2004 Nienaber ¯ Not for the Faint of Heart prayers, works, and joys, but also our sufferings. Do we offer them to God? Life sometimes deals us a bad hand of cards, and some people easily say that God does it for a reason. If this is true, maybe the reason is so that we will not live on the surface, but take the risk of going deeply into prayer and into the mind of God. Only the truth sets us free. Thus, praying through our sufferings can give more peace, insight, and freedom than we have ever known. Honest prayer can lead us more deeply into the paschal mystery. Once we face and embrace our dark-ness, we can be more open to the light, the resurrections within us. St. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 6:4-10 that he does not regret his struggles. He embraces both sides of the mystery of Jesus in his own body: "punished, but not put to death; sorrowful, though we are always rejoic-ing; poor, yet we enrich many." Praying honestly can help us, like Paul, to hold in reverence both the light and darkness of our life. Once people have had a few experiences of getting insight from God in difficult situations, they are encour-aged to continue as the need arises. In case pray-ers would like to journal in this way but do not know how to get started, the following suggestions are offered: God, what can I learn from this anger? What can this loneliness teach me? What do you want to say to me in my insomnia? How might I have handled my frustration differ-ently? How can I deal with this feeling of jealousy? Why do I have to put up with all of this #o~o&-'.':~÷? Why am I so afraid? I really resent J because. I am sensing a deep loneliness because. I am feeling out of relationship with. I am in touch with one of my deepest wounds. Review for Religious Liturgical-minded people often use the readings of the day for their inspiration in prayer. Sometimes, how-ever, the events of our lives need to supersede those read-ings. In such cases, the text of our lives becomes the stuff of our prayer. It is unfair not to deal with our anger and frustration. The ten examples given above involve real issues which, if not dealt with in a healthy way, will spurt outwards or inwards in unhealthy ways. Our caring God wants to help us with such issues as our frustration, for-giveness, anger, disappointments, loneliness. God wants to give light, truth, and insights that are both consoling and challenging, if only we accede. With Peter we can ask, "Lord, to whom shall we go?" (Jn 6:68). In the Monastery Gardens Like the order, they have shrunk From golden reaches of summer sweetcorn Swelling the ear for hungering novices, Have shrunk from pumpkin-puddled swatches Of green and gold serpentining to half An acre of tomatoes all to be stored Against monastic winters. Borders of pines And windbreaks now do not enclose a pleasant Land of hefty cabbages and prickled okra; What is left is gardened for subsistence By stooping backs, gnarled hands, a cane Or two supporting a search for what then Had been Father Leo's prized asparagus. A fox Like Satan circumambulates the margins Where once the chickens found their forage. Not an Eden, never an Eden, but at evening Still walks a Presence serenely pleased to be At home in limitless gardens of the stars, Or gardens shrunken to an order's humbled knees. Nancy G. Westerfield 63.3 2004 J. THOMAS HAMEL A Hidden Treasure of the Ignatian Exercises p~ayer is about getting involved with God by hook by crook and is well worth the effort. Whether by rolling up their sleeves or getting on their knees, by waiting quietly or singing loudly, people manage to find a way of getting involved with God. But what if prayer is not primarily any of these activities? What if prayer is primarily a matter of looking? St. Bernard has a striking response to this question. In his sixty-ninth sermon on the Song of Songs he says: I must bring this sermon to an end, but I will say one thing to the spiritual among you, a strange thing, but true. The soul that looks on God sees him as though she alone were lboked on by him. It is in this confi-dence that she says he is concerned for her, and she for him, and she sees noflaing but herself and him. How good you are, Lord, to the soul who seeks you. You come to meet her, you embrace her, you acknowledge yourself to be her bridegroom, you who are the Lord, God blessed forever above all things.1 ~ J. Thomas Hamel SJ continues to reside at College of the Holy Cross; ¯ , ~ , 1 College Street; Worcester. Massachusetts 01610. Review for Religio~ts Echoes of this passage from St. Bernard are found in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola, devoted as he is to the activity of seeing2 For Ignatius the actual begin-ning of prayer has everything to do with looking rather than listening. Along with his own "modesty" or "cus-tody" of the eyes in dealing with others, he seems to exult unrestrainedly in being looked at by God. In his Exercises Ignatius says, "For the space of an Our Father, with mind and heart raised up, consider how God ourLord looks at me" (§75).2 The "vulgate" Latin text adds a nuance: "Picture my Lord Jesus as present and looking at what I am on the point of doing."3 Getting involved with God turns around to mean God getting involved with the one who comes to pray. Ignatian spirituality has much to do with seeking and finding, with looking and listening, with self-offering and receiving. But the precise first step is not so much looking as being looked at, not so much seeing as being seen, being locked in the gaze of God, For Ignatius, prayer begins with the gift of God's attentiveness to me, keeping me in sight, and so a kind of hidden dynamic is at work in the rest of my prayer, including the colloquy: "Imagining Christ our Lord before me on the cross, make a colloquy" (§53). Seeing our Lord on the cross gradually becomes a larger picture. Under Christ's gaze one's whole past comes into focus, and so does what one is doing for Christ here and now, and also his awareness of what one will do. The Redeemer and Savior can con-template one's past, present, and future. In the following Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises, one is invited to be contemplative of the present and future of our eternal Lord's earthly journey. Does contemplation begin in the eyes? During his recuperation in the Loyola family castle after the battle of Pamplona, Ignatius would spend hours imagining what he would do in the service of a certain lady. Had she 63.3 2004 Hamel * A Hidden Treasure of the Ignatian F_.vercises one day looked at him--whoever she was? On another occasion Ignatius "saw clearly a likeness of our Lady with the Holy Child Jesus, at the sight of which he received a very extraordinary consolation."4 Did this extraordinary consolation include the gaze of Mother and Child on him? In Manresa he was mesmerized by the dazzling sight of a serpent: "Somehow it seemed to him that it had the shape of a serpent, and it had many things which shone like eyes, though they weren't eyes. He used to take much delight and be consoled by seeing this thing."s In addition Ignatius would speak of his "interior eyes." He saw with his interior eyes "some things like white:rays which were coming from above. ¯ . He saw clearly with his understanding how Jesus Christ our Lord was present in that most holy sacra-ment. Often, and for a long time, as he was in prayer, he used to see with his interior eyes the humanity of Christ. ¯. Were he to say twenty or forty times, he wouldn't be so bold as to judge that this was a lie . Our Lady too he has seen in a similar form, without distinguishing the parts."6 From such sublime visions, it is typical of Ignatius to bring himself back to earth. "At this time God was dealing with him in the same way as a schoolteacher deals with a child, teaching him . His clear judgment [is] that God was dealing with him in this way.''7 What kind of teachei- other than God allows one to see with one's interior eyes? From schoolboy to errant knight "full of shame and confusion" was not a giant step for Ignatius. In the First Week of the Exercises, Ignatius can readily suppose a person of his culture would feel the disgrace of "being looked upon by his king and all in the court" with disdain, if not repugnance (§74). An even, deeper experience of the hatefulness of sin comes about as a gift of the Father and Son and of our Lady (§~63-64). To receive this gift Review for Religious is to be looked upon by each of them, one after the other. The cosmic gaze of the risen Jesus introduces the Second Week. Everyone and everything is present to the eternal Lord of all. "From the place where he dwells, he gazes on all the inhabitants of the world" (Ps 33:13-14). Before each disciple the eternal Lord pauses, looks, then calls. Whoever responds will be seated at his table, be dressed in clothes similar to his, and be seen with him in the night watches. Such imagery of being a knight beloved of his king personalizes the dream of serving an ideal leader and kingmto be fulfilled only in the company of the shepherd king, the risen Lord of all. Those who respond with full-hearted affection see themselves belong-ing to the world in altogether new ways: interreligious dia-logues, speaking new languages, adapting to new cul-tures, discovering sisters and brothers worldwide. They may also translate Iguatius's much-loved-knight imagery into their own experience, like sharing the food of their Lord--which is doing the will of the Father who sent him, being clothed with his virtues (§93). Prayer from then on occurs in one's own journey and in Christ's. A friendship grows, reverence deepens. Service no longer knows of "shoulds," but is the deed of love welling up from silence and verbal exchange, from spiritual insight, and from special moments of feeling that one is under God's loving gaze. To visit Nazareth, find one's way to Bethlehem, come to the River Jordan, ascend Mount Tabor, enter Jerusalem--wherever, with all that looking in wonder and being looked at, who is to find words or have need of words? Does one need words when con- Service no longer knows of "shoulds," but is the deed of love welling up from silence and verbal exchange. 63.3 2004 Hamel ¯ A Hidden Treasure of the Ignatian F~cercise$ templating the Infant lying in the manger and looking back at you? It would not be difficult to imagine that, when Jesus is leaving Nazareth and you with him, our Lady would be looking at you as well. When present with Jesus in the waters of the Jordan, would not you too be looked at by the Father? (§273). When speaking to his beloved dis-ciples about the beatitudes, how striking that Jesus exhorts them to use their talents, letting their "light shine before people so that they may see your good deeds and gl6rify your Father" (§278). Would you too be caught in that smile of his? On Mount Tabor Christ our Lord became transfigured, and his face shone like the sun and his clothing like snow (§284). Did Peter, James, and John know who was looking at them? When the woman who showed "great love" heard Jesus saying "Your faith has saved you, go in peace," was she not being looked at with love? (§282). St. Peter denied him, but later, after Jesus looked at him, went outside and wept bitterly (§292). Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged; they struck him blows in the face (§295). Were his eyes closed against the blows? And when on the cross he commended St. John to his mother and his mother to St. John, what kind of look was he giving them at that moment? (§297). In his first appearance on the day of the resurrection, the very silence of the .Gospels already suggests that Jesus' and Mary's wordless looking at each other was enough. "The way friends are accustomed to console one another" is often a matter of exchanging heartfelt looks (§224). Ignatius stresses that the risen Jesus appeared many times to the disciples and spoke with them (§311). How often were those "words" simply looks? Even at table eating, Ignatius contemplates. "While eating one should imagine that one is seeing Christ our Lord eating with his apostles, considering the way he Review for Religious drinks, the way he looks around, and the way he talks" (§214). Is there any end to the breadth and lerigth and height of when Christ our Lord looks at you contem-plating all his mysteries? All the seeking and finding, the asking and receiving, all the knowing and loving blend into being looked upon, gazed upon, endlessly, so it seems, in a d!scipleship of friend to friend. Is it merely a coincidence that in Igna~ius's Exercises the final mystery to be contemplated presents Jesus' dis-ciples still looking? "Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus who has been taken from you will come in the same way as you saw him go to heaven" (§312, Acts 1:11). Were the angels subtly inviting the disciples to find their risen Lord look-ing at them in and through his sisters and brothers? Ignatius's long-standing desire to be placed with the Son surely reflects repeated visions of being looked at by the Lord. To be placed with the Son is to be under his gaze forever. This school of contemplation, if it may be so called, takes place on the run. One is being taught while on a journey. In the full thirty-day Exercises, the introduc-tory exercise of prayer is repeated four or five times daily. Before a word is exchanged, the Teacher is simply look-ing, and thereby teaching contemplation, teaching peo-ple to see what the Lord sees, to see ourselves as the Lord sees us, to see others as the Lord sees them. Then, when somewhere along the journey our Lord looks upon us, that look is a reflection of ourselves, like an imitation in reverse. What we see is Christ our Lord being where we find ourselves, aware of what is going on in us and making it known to us. The journey is not quite the same any more; we are in new territory with the Lord. Ignatius alludes to this kind of experience when he recalls the surreptitious visit he made to the Mount of Olives: 63.3 2004 Hamel ¯ A Hidden Treasure of the Igr~ti~ Exercises When they found out in the monastery that he had gone off like this without a guide, the friars took vig-orous s~teps to look for him. So, as he was coming down from the Mount of Olives, he came upon a Christian of the cincture, who was a servant in the monastery. He had a big staff, and with a show of great anger was gesturing as if really to give it to him, and coming up to him he grabbed him roughly by the arm. He let himself be taken readily, but the good man never let him go. And, as he went along this path in this fashion, grabbed by the Christian of the cincture, he had great consolation from our Lord, in that it seemed to him he was seeing Christ always over him. And, until he arrived at the monastery, this lasted all the time in great abundance,s Although this was not by any means the first time Ignatius saw Christ our Lord, it is worth noting how his language catches a different, if not new, experience. Ignatius does not say Christ appeared to him, but he sees Christ "always over him," as if hovering over him, as though walking with him down the path from Bethphage into Jerusalem. It is also worth noting how Ignatius names the consolation. His consolation occurs in what he sees: "seeing Christ always over him." Was Ignatius see-ing Christ in his passion along the Via Dolorosa, but reflecting his own experience of being bound and led into Jerusalem? This had been the city of his dreams, but, after the Franciscan superior told him he had to leave it, it became the place of his own passion. In Ignatius's Spiritual Diary we are let in on similar experiences. As if a new mutuality is being revealed, Jesus accompanies Ignatius before the Father. On Monday, 2 5 February, the feast of St. Matthias, Ignatius is celebrat-ing Mass alone: I entered into the Mass with great devotion, warmth, and tears, at times losing the power of speech. During the prayers to the Father, it seemed that Jesus was presenting them, or accompanied those that I was say- Review for Religious ing, before the Father; and I felt or saw in a way that cannot be explained in those terms? Two days later, on the first day of Lent, Ignatius was in the chapel praying. He writes: I entered the chapel and while praying felt, or to put it more exactly, I saw, not by natural power, the Blessed Trinity and also Jesus who was representing me, or placing me before the Trinity or acting as medi-ator close to the Blessed Trinity, that I might com-municate in that intellectual vision. On feeling and seeing in this way I was covered in tears and love but with Jesus as the object; and toward the Blessed Trinity, a respect of submission more like a reverential love than anything else. Later I felt in a similar way that Jesus was performing the same task when I thought of praying to the Father, for it seemed and I could feel within me that he was doing everything before the Father and the Blessed Trinity.1° Jesus, the Mediator par excellence, so identifies with Ignatius that, in presenting Ignatius to the Father, it seems that Jesus is presenting himself to the Father. On the other hand, when Ignatius humbles himself before the Blessed Trinity, not out of fear but with a reverential love, it seems that he has entered into the very senti-ments of Jesus himself. What happened to Moses springs to mind: he talked to God face to face (Ex 33:11). In the beginning, however, "Moses hid his face from God, for he was afraid to look at God" (Ex 3:6). The sight of the burning bush was only a beginning, but a journey begun leads to other beginnings. Seeing and being seen are wondrous beginnings in themselves, but others follow: not only sight but also sound, not only sound but also silence. Memories long buried may come into view; new and hardly namable feelings may arise. Contemplation is a new and mostly unspoken language that may come more and more into play on the journey. To see in this way the language spoken by our Savior's eyes--to learn 63.3 2004 Hamel * A Hidden Treasure of the lgnatian Exercises it and respond in it--is to be seen by the Father, to see him as he is, and to become like him. Perhaps this would be the ultimate grace, the hidden treasure, of the Spiritual Exercises. Notes i Bernard of Clairvaux, "On the Song of Songs," Vol. 4, trans. Irene Edmonds (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1980), p. 35. 2 St. Ignatius of Loyola: Personal Writings, trans. Joseph A. Munitiz and Philip Endean (London: Penguin Books, 1996), p. 300. 3 A new translation from the "vulgate" Latin text, The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius, trans. Pierre Wolff (Liguori, Missouri: Triumph, 1997), p. 25, §75. 4 Personal Writings, Reminiscences, p. 16 (=Autobiography, § 10). s Reminiscences, p. 21 (=Autobiography, §19). 6 Reminiscences, p. 26 (=Autobiography, §29). 7 Reminiscences, p. 25 (=Autobiography, §27). s Reminiscences, p. 35 (=Autobiography, §48). 9 Personal Writings, p. 86 (=Spiritual Diary, §24). 1o Personal Writings, p. 87 (=Spiritual Diary, §26). Review for Religious SEAN SAMMON Fidelity and Commitment: Letter to a Young Marist Brother Dear Zebulun, After our general chapter I decided to write to our young brothers. You number more than eight hundred, and I was eager to get in touch with you to offer a word of encouragement. Zebulun, you and our other young brothers give me and many more older brothers great hope that a new day is dawning for our Marist life and mission throughout the world. So many of you tell me how eager you are to embrace and live fully the five calls found in our general chapter message. "Center your lives in Jesus," the delegates wrote, "for upon this foundation our life is built. Be sowers of hope: by means of new and renewed initiatives in evangelization, education, and solidarity, draw closer to the poorest and most marginalized of young people. Join efforts Se~in Sammon FMS, now superior general of the Marist Brothers, wrote for us in 1992 and 1993. His address is Fratelli Maristi delle Scuole; C.P. 10250; 00144 Roma, Italy. 63.3 2004 Sammon ¯ Fidelity and Commitment with our lay parmers to clarify more fully their identity and ours and to collaborate more closely in mission, spirituality, formation. Build communities where forgiveness is a habit and reconciliation no stranger. Do all things in Mary's way." A challenging agenda, but one that many of you appear eager to implement! You have come to religious life during a turbulent period in its history. The world in which you grew up is also very different from the one in which many of us began our Marist life. We look to benefit from your experience with young people and your understanding of their joys and preoccupations. We are eager to hear from you what young people need from us who are cormnitted to sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ with them. Never cease to challenge us with your hopes and dreams, and do not hesitate to share with us your fears and concerns as well. I write as your brother, recalling my own years as a young brother and remembering the energy and the distracting preoccupations that often marked those years~ I remember a sense of adventure, but also sometimes feeling that a word of encouragement or some clarifying light would have been very welcome indeed. Today I seek to cast some light on fidelity and commitment. If this seems an unusual topic with which to begin, it is nevertheless one that has come from conversations with young brothers. It is a topic on the minds of a good many of them. With this letter I attempt to respond to their questions and concerns--but without forgetting my chief purpose: getting in contact with you and bringing some encouragement. Why This Concern with Fidelity. and Commitment? During my visit with a group of young brothers in Bolivia, I was asked: "Why do you think so many young Review for Religious brothers are leaving our congregation?" The question was direct and needed an answer, for it represented the mind of many in the room. I offered a few words in response, but I knew my reply was not adequate. So the question stayed with me. It remains with me still. Some may insist that responsibility for leaving the institute lies with the various individuals, but that explanation is too facile for me. Over the years some dear friends of mine have left. Good and honest men, on fire with a love of Jesus Christ and a desire to make a difference in the lives of poor kids, they have decided to steer their life in a different direction from our Marist brotherhood. Each time I found myself asking: "For what reasons is he leaving?" and "What makes me stay?" Others may think and say that those who request dispensation from their vows do so because they have grown lukewarm and found themselves unable to cope with the disappointments that are the part of any life commitment lived well. Here again the explanation seems too facile. After all, haven't most of us from time to time thought about leaving? Aren't we all sometimes lukewarm? If we are human, we all experience occasional problems with one or several of these important dimensions of our lives: relationships, sexuality, faith, cormnunity life, our ministry, and even the priorities that the members of our province may establish. Zebulun, I believe that you and I will find an answer to the question put to me in Bolivia if we can deepen our Fidelity helps us remain true to what we have pledged despite the contradictory values that we might encounter on life's journey. -2-85- 63.3 2004 Sammon ¯ Fidelity and Commitment understanding of the nature of fidelity. After all, isn't it the virtue that helps people like us overcome feelings of staleness that sometimes threaten our life commitments? Fidelity helps us remain true to what we have pledged despite the contradictory values that we might encounter on life's journey. God is faithful to us. Keeping that fact in mind, let us take a look at that time in life when the dream that God has in mind for each of us began to take shape. Can you remember the earliest time when people asked you what you were going to do with your life? Whatever our responses were, they were influenced by our experiences, our culture, our personality and natural gifts, the expectations that others had for us, and of course God. The word vocation sometimes describes our response to this very same question: we feel called. Before Vatican Council 17, however, vocation was commonly used only for people who entered a seminary or a religious congregation. Thankfully, the present-day understanding of vocation is much broader. Everyone is called by God to something and therefore has a vocation. A religious vocation is one type Of vocation, but all who respond to God,s dream for them are living out a vocation. God's Dream for Me and the Mystery of Election At the center of your vocation and mine lies the mystery of "election." The second chapter of our Marist Constitutions and Statutes says it well: God called you and me by name. God led us into the desert and spoke to our hearts. God sent us out on mission. Simply put, God has a dream for each of us and is eager to share it and lead us into it. But he uses very human means to get the message across. Our awareness of God's dream for ourselves can often be traced back to our answer to the question with which we began this section: What am I going to do with my life? Review for Religious Our answer usually began as a fluid vision of the kind of person I am, of who I was becoming in the world. Often enough I modeled myself after adults I admired. When I think back to my own teenage years, I remember that the brothers who taught me in secondary school made quite an impression on me. I wanted to be like them. They were effective in their ministry and obviously enjoyed working with young people. Most of all, they were happy--happy, not in the sense of hilarity, but happy because of their deep sense of purpose, their dedication. So strong was the impression that these brothers made on me that I went to the juniorate at age fifteen. God got his message across to me through a group of---as I later realized---all-too-human men nevertheless doing something that would be worth the gift of my life. Over timeI learned that my early-adolescent dream, too, contained illusions of its own. Maybe you had the same experience. Sometimes I thought of myself as larger than life. During the years since, I have often wondered whether-I considered this inflated view of myself necessary for doing all the things I believed others expected me to do. Eventually I learned another important lesson: The reasons that brought me to religious life are not the reasons that kept me from leaving. That's right. As your vocation or mine matures, we understand the deeper reasons behind our choice to be a brother. We understand ourselves and our way of life as Marist brothers better than when we were first attracted to it. God leads us to a deeper experience of his love for each of us. A vocation, consequently, is not a once-and-for-all call that comes sometime during adolescence. Rather, it is a daily and lifelong conversation with God. For you and me to be faithful to our vocation as Marist brothers, then, we will have to do a great, deal more than refresh our 63.3 2004 Sammon * Fidelity and Commitment memories of an invitation that came early in life. Instead, we will need to practice what Marcellin Champagnat called the presence of God. God's Dream and. the Rich Young Man Before moving on, let us look at another question. What happens if I fail to follow God's dream for me? After all, this dream of God's is something freely offered; I do not have to accept it. Permit me to respond with a story. Several years ago, during the course of a workshop at the English College in Rome, I met a young man there whom I will call Stephen. This Roman seminary prepares priests for all the dioceses of Great Britain, and Stephen was a third-year student. Before entering the college and formation for priesthood, he had been a successful businessman. During breakfast one morning I asked him what had brought him to the seminary. His response was disarming: "I don't think I have a vocation to ;priesthood, but apparendy God does!" He said that with the passage of time he was just beginning to feel at home with that notion. In its early days a religious vocation is not always welcomed with joy! So God's dream for you and for me is freely offered and can be accepted or put aside. In putting it aside, however, we run a risk. Though we may live a life that is happy and fulfilling, and envied by others, at some deep level .we may sense that an important part of our life is missing. All three synoptic Gospels tell of a rich young man who came to Jesus and asked what he had to do to possess eternal life. Jesus said, "Keep the commandments." The man said he had always kept them. Jesus, looking beyond this young man's lifelong conscientiousness, saw what his practice of religion could be: something much better than keeping his heart to himself and taking pride in observing the Law and avoiding mistakes. And so, looking on him with love, Review for Religious Jesus said: "There is still one thing you lack. Sell everything that you own and distribute the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." The rich young man was faced now with having to choose one of two life directions. One would include God's dream for him, and the other would not. We know the end of the story well. This rich young man failed to accept the Lord's invitation, and he went away sad. Zebulun, I wonder if you sometimes feel like this rich young man, as I do. As life unfolds, we discover that every commitment lived well demands sacrifice, allowing others to have a claim over our time, talents, and energies. The Lord invites us to take up certain tasks, not because we want to, but because our presence and efforts are necessary. Some of us are perennially slow learners, and so it is only on arriving at the end of our thirties that we discover and admit that we have long been straying from what God has had in mind for us. At that point we face a choice much like the rich young man's. Midlife provides the opportunity, once again, to move our life more in the direction of God's dream for us. Our twentieth general chapter, with its theme of vitality, offered us a similar opportunity. Those who participated in that gathering and our lay consultants did not produce an elaborate pastoral plan, nor send us a message that included many details. No, their final communiqu6 was very simple. What it asked of us today as.Marist brothers is a revolution of the heart. Simply put, we must fall in love with God, once again. Vocations and Risk and Times of Change In making any permanent commitment, you and I must surrender ourselves to someone who is beyond our control. Every vocation, therefore, has an element of risk; 63.3 2004 Sammon ¯ Fidelity and Commitment it is a leap into the unknown. We are called upon to take a chance with our lives, to take a risk, to go beyond the information we have on hand. Some people prefer to wait until they have all the information necessary to make the best possible decision, but this course of action has its own danger. If you or I wait to be absolutely sure of ourselves before taking action, then we will be dead before we do anything meaningful. So let us keep our vocations alive and lively by taking risks again, and again, and again. Most of us admit to having "second thoughts" from time to time about the important commitments we have made in life. My own questions and doubts occurred during my late twenties and then again in my early forties. I mentioned earlier that I went to the juniorate at age fifteen. Ten to fifteen years later I was asking myself whether I chose too soon. I had the notion that waiting several more years before making a definitive choice about my life would have spared me the burden I felt at age twenty-eight. The truth of the matter, however, is that none of us escapes consequences. Had I delayed making a life commitment, I would have suffered a different set of consequences. God saw fit to invite me to make a move at fifteen; he invites others at eighteen, or twenty-two, or thirty. Some people point out that the doubts we all experience about our vocation often occur during times of transition. In people's lives, periods of change and turmoil alternate with stable periods. The latter run about six or seven years and are often marked by productivity and a sense of well-being. People have their sights set on the future, on building a life for themselves. In contrast, transitions are times when people look back and have second thoughts. These periods may last four or five years and may begin with an ending. Many brothers feel it deeply and at length when a parent dies, Review for Religious or when they leave one ministry for another, or move from one community to another. Or they may fall in love, fail at a task, have a spiritual awakening, become involved in a renewal program or advanced study, or turn a certain age. No matter what precipitates them, changes do occur and bring some kind of ending to what has gone before. Most of us believe that new beginnings take place quickly. Life's transitions, however, manage to surprise us by bringing an extended period of uncertainty during which we feel "up in the air" or "lost at sea." About all we are sure of is that we cannot go back to the world we once knew. Eventually transitions comes to a close when new beginnings get well underway. We cannot, however, speed them up. They happen in their own good time. Renewal programs, counseling and spiritual direction, and talking with community members, friends, and confidants can help us reap greater benefit from any time of transition. Frank discussion about our situa-tlon with a person or persons whom we trust is one of the best ways to profit from a period of transition, but these conversations will not make the transition happen faster. Well used, though, periods of transition will reward us. Times of transition are times of grace. These are the desert experiences during which God speaks to our hearts. They are marked by some common feelings. We find ourselves disillusioned, or disengaged from our community or other people. The roles that we fill in life often do not make much sense anymore. Though these periods may frighten and disturb us, leave us resdess and uncertain, they are times of purification, of deepening our understanding, of opportunity to rework our life Times of transition are times of grace. 63.3 2004 Sammon ¯ Fidelity and Commitment commitments and come to love them more deeply. Single people, married people, priests, and men and women religious all go through times of transition. We need not be alarmed when they come, but we should handle them intelligently, and seek advice in doing so. One Person's Story Here is an example of one person's life transition. Several years ago, while I was visiting a province, a young brother whom I will call Michael came to speak with me. He was heavy of heart and told of being in love with a young woman, a religious sister whom he had met while taking some classes. He was heavy of heart because he felt divided between loving this young woman and having an equal love for our Marist brotherhood and mission. He asked me for my reaction to his situation. I said, "Michael, it sounds like Christmas morning!" Looking surprised, he asked what I meant. I said that the relationship he described sounded wonderful, but that, as he probably realized, he faced some difficult decisions. He could not live for any length of time divided between this new relationship and his love of Marist life and mission. Eventually he would have to answer a question that all of us face in life: On whom or what do I set my heart? This spiritual question lies within every life transition. None of us can live for long with a divided heart. Eventually we must decide where we stand in life and what we hold dear. These major life commitments, then, become over time the touchstone for many of the other important decisions we must make in life. And what about this young brother today, several years later? Michael took his life situation in hand, as did the young sister. Both began to meet with spiritual directors, and he met with a counselor as well--and he began talking more honestly with the members of his community. Eventually Michael and his friend realized Review for Religious that the relationship they shared was an important source of support to their respective vocations. Today he finds his commitment to our congregation and mission stronger and deeper than in the past, and the young sister has a similar experience. Over time both realized that their community-life commitments and the values they hold dear are a steady compass helping them make the right choices in life. This young brother showed a great deal of courage. He could have avoided discussing his relationship, or deceived himself by minimizing its importance in his life. Instead, he accepted the grace that God gave him and found himself growing more aware of God's dream for him and accepting all that that dream required of him. Commitments and Freedom What is a commitment? To begin with, every. commitment involves a call. By one means or another, Jesus Christ gets our attention and invites us into a loving relationship with him. The mystery of election obviously plays an important role in the process. The relationship that we have with Jesus is the foundation upon which our religious vocations are built. Every commitment calls for a choice. And you and I both know that the choices we make in life help to define us. If your provincial asks you to decide between preparing to be a formator or working on a master's degree in mathematics, you quickly realize that the choice you make will affect the structure of your life at least for the immediate future, and probably also during the years to come. Finally, every commitment involves a promise. A promise is a particular kind of choice because it describes something that we intend to do in the future. For example, when you and I made our commitment in our Marist brotherhood to be poor, chaste, and obedient, we 63.3 2004 Sammon ¯ Fidelity and Commitment Freedom refers to our capacity to be self-determining. were not merely making a prediction about our future or reporting on our present state of mind. We were stating a firm intention and binding ourselves to a future course of action. So what is the advantage of making any type of commitment? To make a promise is the surest way for any of us to determine the direction of our life rather than to have it set for us. At first glance, freedom and commitment appear incompatible. Many of us have been led to believe that our happiness in life is related directly to the number of options that we have available. And conventional wisdom insists that to increase our freedom we need only increase our capacity for having our own way. This line of argument is aimed at convincing us that any life commitment is best put off, because it will only limit us, rein us in, make us less free. Life experience, though, reveals the flaw in this thinking. Zebulun, I think you and I both realize that a failure to commit ourselves does not ensure greater freedom. Freedom, after all, refers to our capacity to be self-determining. In promising to live out a particular way of life or to be a partner in a lifelong relationship, people choose freely to grow in one direction and not in another. Yes, it is important to be an adolescent for a while, to explore and experience different options for living, but it is equally important not to be an adolescent for a lifetime. All of us continue to explore throughout the course of life, but those among us who are perpetually adolescent use exploration to avoid ever making a gift of our lives, In the end we do not live life, we dabble in it. In making a commitment, then, we do not surrender freedom--most often we enhance it. Any of us, in Review for Religious committing ourselves fully to our life as brothers, will likely find that our potential for spiritual, apostolic, and emotional growth is enhanced. We become more focused and have greater intimacy with God and with others. By trying to keep all our options open, by refusing to make choices and commitments, we would eventually lose our freedom. Over time our life would be determined by forces beyond our control. What about Permanent Commitments? Most of us do not have much of a problem with the idea of commitments. Some of us, however, have a problem with the notion of permanence. I would suggest, though, that there is an intrinsic connection between "forever" and some life commitments. Every day all over the world people express their love for each other through marriage vows, saying "until death do us part." They do not just pledge themselves to persevere as long as all goes well, but rather they aspire to remain together no matter what obstacles stand in their way. Never mistake "forever" with stagnation or a lack of growth. The notion of "temporary commitment" makes me uncomfortable. It apparently comes from the tawdry "everything is disposable" attitude in contemporary culture, and, besides, the words temporary and commitment somehow do not seem to go together. If you or I want to give five years of our lives to a project, why call that gift of rime and talent a commitment. Wouldn't some word like agreement or arrangement better convey what we mean? What justifies a permanent commitment? Something quite simple: no better soil for human gro~vtb has yet been found. A permanent commitment, though, must always be judged by the fruit it bears. If any of us becomes bored, indifferent, and resentful in his permanent commitment, people wonder what it contributes to the 63.3 2004 Sammon * Fidelity and Commitment vitality of the group. They know that making our vows does not signal the journey's end. Rather it heralds a journey well begun. Perseverance is not necessarily a good measure of fidelity. Haven't some of us lived and worked with brothers who appeared so unhappy in our way of life and ministry that we had to ask 6urselves why he stays. Surely God did not plan for him to be so miserable in our way of life and our ministry to poor children and young people! Today, however, we face a phenomenon more visible than in the past and best described as the "breaking of commitments." You and I have known brothers, good men, who early in the course of their lives committed themselves generously to God and to others and who, over time, strove to live out faithfully the commitment they made. Then, as the years passed and their relationships with God, themselves, and others unfolded, these very same men came. to question the promises they had made in good faith so many years ago. Is Perseverance Always a Sign of Fidelity? In the enthusiasm that marked their early years of Marist life, they had made vows intending them to be permanent. With the passage of time, however, they found that, no matter how hard they tried, they could not live them out fully. During times of life transition--and for a number of us these changes occur when we are about thirty years old and then again during our early forties--many seek an answer to this question: Is it fidelity when someone clings to a vowed commitment and rigidly perseveres without facing honestly the .dull performance and lack of life that appear to be its fruit? ¯ Fidelity is at times exercised in change as well as in stability. For most of us~ our commitment to Jesus as Marist brothers reflects~ the deepest currents in our lives and significant aspects of our.personality. To some of our Review for Religious brothers, however, time reveals that more than anything else their commitment merely serves their need for security or provides a place to be of service to people. For a few other brothers, there is a growing realization that important elements of their commitment have died. For these last groups, the task at midlife is not simply to understand more fully the "mixed motives" that draw them to one vocation or another. Rather, it is to see that they have been living their life on a deficient grasp of some important truths or that their once cherished dream is in pieces. Moments of profound sadness, loss, and confusion accompany their growing awareness that sometimes fidelity to God, to oneself, and to others may be exercised in acknowledging that somehow a com-mitment has died or should be treated that way. We must, however, not use this line of reasoning to put aside a life commitment too easily. Whenever any of us are confronted with serious questions and doubts about our commitment as brothers, we must do no less than commit ourselves to a careful d

Issue 61.2 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Examen .Living with God Growing Older Religious Eife Perspectives MARCH APRIL 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 2 Review for Relig4ous helps people respond and be faithful ~ to God's universal call to holiness by making available ~to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the charisms of CathOlic consecratea life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written applicatign to the Editor, Review for Religious. L VING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Afin Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp ~Adarmiaens G~.nadu dJoinan S. CFelling Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos'A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CsJ MARCH APRIL 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 2 contents 118 feature Examen: Persons in Relationships Joseph A. Tetlow sJ provides new insights by focusing examen on our many personal relationships in daily life. 129 137 living with God No Rapine in the Holocaust: Eremitical Life Today Karen Karper Fredette surveys some of the different forms eremitical life has taken in a fresh flowering in church life today. Metaphysical Self in Other Mystical Traditions James J. Magee defines metaphysical self as one's self residing in God and God residing in it and then examines this term as it appears in Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim (Sufl) mysticism. 146 growing older Aging: Spiritually Present to the Burning Bush Geraldine M. Wodarczyk CSFN reflectively enters us into her six-year experience of living among her own congregation's aging and prayerful sisters. Review for Religious 166 Coping with Repetition: A Spirituality for Ministering to the Elderly Helen Jean Novy HM proposes some spiritual considerations to guide our responses to the repetitiousness of sick/elderly people. 169 religious ~i~e perspectives Medaille's "Means" and Religious Life's Renewal Joan Wagner ssJ focuses on six "means" derived from Father Medaille's writings that nourish religious community life. 183 The Decline of Religious Life: A Success Story Michael Dominic W. Ledoux OFM asks whether the next task for religious congregations is to let go of our hold on institutions and ministries and allow them to find a charism based upon their own stories and histories rather than being too strongly attached to religious communal stories. " 191 Membership and Leadership: An Organic Whole Beatrice M. Eichten OSF sketches out the patterns of interworking between leaders and members that enhance effective leadership in community life. flepar men s 116 Prisms 202 Canonical Counsel: Exclaustration: Further Considerations 211 Book Reviews March-April 2002 115 prisms Jesus' transfiguration was a favorite passage of the Jesuit paleontologist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. With his own description of evo-lution progressing by crossing thresholds, he found the transfigured Jesus giving promise of crossing the threshold from being Jesus a marginal Jew to being the risen Christ Pantocrator. Whatever our response to evolutionary theory, the crossing of thresholds gives insight into words and images used to describe the mysteries of our Catholic faith. We seem to be unaware that in faith we have crossed a .threshold between commonsense language and language bursting with faith realities. For exam-ple, our scripture and prayer language in the Lenten and Easter seasons describes redemption as our being purchased at a price. Sometimes this has led to the preaching and imaging of God paying off the devil by Jesus' passion and death. So we--the human race-- were bought at the cost of Jesus' death in order to release us from the grip of the evil one. At other times, it seems that our language has seen God as being appeased or satisfied by the pain and suffering and blood shed by his Son. And we have wondered: What kind of God is this? The New Testament writers built upon the imagery of the Hebrew Scriptures and presumed a poetic under-standing of the religious world. Following Scripture and inspired by their own culture and times, theolo-gians, artists, and spiritual writers over the centuries have all contributed, with mixed results, to various ways of understanding and celebrating the central mystery of our salvation/redemption. In the United States, with R~view for Reli~o~s our sometimes sanitized religious worship removing us from devotional or emotional involvement, we still tend to slip back to a rather morbid focusing on physical pain and the shedding of blood in Lenten prayer and especially in the Holy Week triduum. Perhaps we find ourselves praying with an unhealthy fixation on pain and suffering as the way to God. We need to acknowledge that Holy Thursday has more than just a chronological precedence to Good Friday. The Eucharist is key to a solidly Christian approach to the Passion and Cross, one that is psychologically and spiritually sound and healthy. As St. Ignatius Loyola points out, Jesus' institution of the Eucharist is "the greatest mark of his love." We may be surprised that it is not Jesus' passion and death that help us to understand the Eucharist, but it is the other way around. The Eucharist shows us that Jesus holds nothing back from us in his love. He gives all that he is, sacramentally, to be the food and drink of our life, a life in the same bloodline as God. The word redeemer from its Hebrew derivation points to one taking on the obligations of blood or familial relationship. In itself redeemer does not imply pain or suffering. In the Hebrew Scriptures redeemer describes God in this familial relation to his chosen people. In Jesus we see God fulfilling the redemption of all peoples. By instituting the Eucharist, Jesus intends that the sacramental "nowness" of a blood relationship--the reality of our being adopted as God's sons and daughters--is to be celebrated in our daily living. We have the saying that "love costs." On Holy Thursday Jesus is showing sacramentally that he pays whatever it costs. That is how much he loves us and loves his Father. All our scrip-tural words about payment--ransoming us with his blood, pur-chasing us for a price, and so on--are images, sometimes confusingly used, looking towards the heartfelt truth that "love costs." But God is not paying off anyone. Jesus is not buying us back from the devil. It is the reality that "love costs." Jesus shows us the face of the God who does not count the cost to show his love. The Eucharist is our key to all the events of the Passion and Death. The key presents itself to us every time we look at the crucifix, every time we come forward for Communion. We are invited to cross a faith threshold, thereby experiencing anew God as Love and our identity as beloved. David L. Fleming SJ II7 March-April 2002 JOSEPH A. TETLOW feature Examen: Persons in Relationships You are likely to take account of your relationships with others whe'never you make the examen that St. Ignatius Loyola recommends. But why? Deep down in our own hearts, is there not plenty for God and me to do, without distractions from all sides? Actually, no, and for good reasons. The first reason comes from revelation. The human person is created in the likeness of a God who is One only and also Three Persons. This impenetra-ble mystery reveals to us that each of the Persons has identity only in and through the relations among the Three. It is in that likeness that your own "person" is modeled: you are a person only in your relationships. You will always be your mother's child and your father's offspring, always your siblings' brother or sis-ter. Moreover, it is in and through those relationships and others--teachers, neighbors, friends, even ene-mies- that you have become the person you are. To tell who Jesus of Nazareth is, Matthew begins with a genealogy. After telling about incarnation and birth, he goes right to Jesus' relationship with John the Baptist. Joseph A. Tedow SJ last wrote for us in September-October 1998. His address is Secretariate for Ignatian Spirituality; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma Prati; Italy. Review for Religious Here is the second reason, closer to the everyday, for doing this exercise. You are always relating to your family, where per-sonhood (self) takes early shape and within which you continue to develop throughout life. You work with others, creating another set of day-to-day relationships. You may belong to a religious community, requiring you to develop a subtle lifelong set of relationships with persons whom God has chosen for you. You may belong to an apostolic team--parish, school, center, hospital, program--which requires cooper-ation and planning. All of these relation-ships require attention and prayer, since "we are all parts of one another" and together we make up the Body of Christ (Rm 12:5). As a very practical matter, this exercise might be a regular part of the prayer of those who work in apostolic partnerships. These are not simple in the church today, and a lot of "personality conflicts" disguise rather dis-orderly emotions and affects. Moreover, a lot of apostolic planning and community planning gets scuttled because of unre-flected- upon personal relationships. Teams and communities commonly blame "the process" for failed planning, when the actual problem is the relationships among the members. This examen, besides helping you know whom to thank God for, helps reveal and even heal such dysfunctional relationships. There are reasons why everyone would benefit from this special exercise. Every life today is plagued in some measure by individualism and alienation. One consequence affects the examen. Even when examining how you are getting along with others, you tend to focus on your own part in the relationship-- "How am I doing?"mand less on the other or on the relation-ship itself. This exercise challenges that focus on the self. It draws you to appreciate, for the right reasons, the people whom God has put into your life. "Each of us should think of our neighbors and help them to become stronger Christians" (see Rm 15:2). You enact individualism by thinking about yourself in isolation rather than in relationships with others. This examen asks you to look directly at the others in your life and the relationships that hold you together in Christ. Every life today is plagued in some measure by individualism and alienation. 119 March-April 2002 Tetlow * Examen Your relationships are where, and the deepest reason why, you exercise the virtues of prudence, justice, fortitude, and tem-perance and a host of others that are needed in order to love the way Jesus loves. Relationships, especially your family and community relationships but also your apostolic and job rela-tionships, are where you give in to sins of pride, covetousness, lust, envy, anger, gluttony, and sloth. If you find this hard to believe, perhaps you really need to do this exercise for a while. Here is the last and ultimate reason to use an examen specif-ically about your relationships: to make sure you are loving the way Jesus loves. Ignatius's Contemplation on Love--the more descriptive title would be "Contemplation to learn to love the way God loves"--begins with two prenotes. The first is that love "ought to manifest itself in deeds rather than in words," and the second is that love consists in constantly sharing, the lover and the beloved giving and receiving in open generosity (SpEx §231). This is how Jesus loves, always in relationship with the Other and the others. This exercise takes you directly to the issue whether you are loving as Jesus loved or are, in actu-ality, doing something else. Practicing the Exercise What is recommended here can be used as a single exercise, in which case it will require a long period of quiet time. It has been used profitably as the material for an eight-day retreat. Once you have gone through it for a while, however, you will know which parts of it to apply on a given day or occasion. You will know that sometimes you need to run through and examine all of your relationships: family, friends, work, community mem-bers, parish council, and so forth. At other times you will want to examine something that has happened, like a disagreement that left you far more unsettled than the matter deserved, or a deci-sion not to phone someone. This exercise will help you to uncover your true purposes, responses, and responsibilities. You can think about one partner or colleague; you can look at one group or committee or team. And so on. (The exercise as it is given here is divided into five sections, following its Ignatian inspiration.) First, taking time to thank God for those whom the Spirit has put into your life. A good way to do this is by making three columns Review for Religious on a sheet of paper. In the first, write some names (parent, sibling, friend, coworker), choosing those who belong to the period you are covering. If you are moving historically through your life, you would begin with parents or grandparents; if you are covering your life situation today, you would name the people with .whom you relate regularly. In the second column, across from each name, write the relationship you have with this person. You might want to add some details beyond a mere title. For instance, to "childhood friend" you might add "first date"; to parent, "died too young"; to colleague, "real partner." This assigning of titles may not be entirely simple. Choosing the appropriate title for a sibling.who is also a lifelong inti-mate friend and a business partner would take some thought--thought precisely about the relationship that you are given and choosing. Then, in the third column, for which you will need plenty of space, describe the relationship you have with this person. How has this person helped shape your self and your life, in the past or more recently? For instance, "rooted me in Christ" about a deeply religious and well-informed parent who established you in your faith. A trust-worthy friend may have told you the truth about yourself and your opinions and decisions, bringing you to know yourself before God. This step will give you grounds for a good deal of thanksgiving. Someone taught you to read and write. Someone showed you how to play your favorite sport. Someone intro-duced you to the Scripture.s. Someone challenged you to for-giveness because he or she not only hurt your feelings but did you harm. Someone may have betrayed you as Judas betrayed your Master. In this examen you probe how you relate to these people, not only how you feel about them, but especially what you have done and are doing in this relationship. In every instance your Creator and Lord is giving you an array of gen-erous gifts, sometimes surprising ones, freely and constantly, gifts for you to be thankful for. There is no gift as great as the gift of a faithful friend or lover who means only good for you. 12I March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen People know that there is, no gift as great as the gift of a faithful friend or lover who means only "good for you. So here is occasion to name the influences that such persons have had on your values and choices. You may well have adopted a friend's special perspective on the church or on parenting. You may become a member of a solid program because a friend invited you into it. You may have made a life-shaping choice under his or her influence. This point is well worth dwelling on, because through these relationships God is moment by moment creat-ing us as persons. Whom has God put into your life to give it shape? How have they shaped it? How do you relate to them? Here is the core of this exercise. Thanking God for these friends and relations will be incom-plete- and perhaps impossible--unless we consciously approve of how God is even now creating us and those we relate with. If you have an elderly parent who is still clear and keenly interested in your life, that is a great gift. An equally great gift is an elderly parent who depends entirely on you. If you have colleagues who depend on you, that is a gift. So is it when there are colleagues on whom you can depend. And sons or daughters will be their parents' sons or daughters forever, however they may be doing just now. The members of a religious community--real persons--are the living environment of each religious's living, growing, and dying. This exercise asks that you grow conscious of a reality we take so much for granted that we do not think about it at all. How often do you note that the sun rose this morning? How much do you value the water that comes from your tap? We treat our relationships rather like that. They are just there. They do not take thinking about except in special circumstances like an argument or a celebration. But every day each relation is a gift greater than today's sun, and each person given you to love and to be loved by is as indispensable to your thriving as the pure water that you drink without giving it a thought. Prayer Lord Jesus Christ, when you walked this earth you lived a family life with neighbors and friends. When you began to spread the Good News, You gathered around you seventy-two, and twelve, and three, who were precious to you, each in a special way, because Review for Religious the Spirit of Love gave them to you. Never has there been a companion better than you, a colleague more trusting and compassionate, a partner more giving and generous. Help me to know those many, those most special ones whom the Spirit of Love has given me in my life, and, with you, to thank the Father for the gift of them. Amen. Second, asking for attention, insight, and courage. Call on the Holy Spirit to let you pay attention to the others in your life. Ask to feel real interest in others, to get outside yourself and your interior concerns to see the people around you as they are. Ask to pay this attention in the way that God does, who hates nothing he has created and lets rain fall on just and unjust alike. Ask for insight into each person and into your relationship. Some are growing more important in your life, and perhaps some are growing away from you. Ask to know how. Ask the Spirit to let you see what you are looking at, and also to let you hear what you are listening to--from and about those whom the Spirit has given you. Finally, beg for the courage to see clearly and to affirm your connections to others, to feel how they have grown into your life and yourself. How have you reached out to them and perhaps risked something to know and love them? Ask boldness to assert your attachments to others, or your detachment and distanc-ing. Ask to be able to see how another or others are calling you to grow or, alternatively, how another or others are inviting you to be less authentic. Prayer Spirit of the risen Lord, who moved the Holy One to care for friends with his still-wounded hands and pierced heart, make me attentive to my friends even with my fearing toudh and wearing spirit. Open my eyes to see what gifts they really are; open my ears to hear what good they really mean to say. Brace my spirit to feel what they need me to feel. And, as you steeled the heart of Jesus while he lived misunder-stood and then betrayed, brace me now--while I find how I have fared in risking my self--to remain true to who I am ~and to be open in giving and receiving love. Amen. March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen Third, examining how relationships are doing. To begin with, stay with relationships that are going well. Simply look down the three columns you have written and note the name, relation-ship, and influence, and let yourself be contented in Christ with this love that falls into his pattern of loving. Using the columns is an effective way of examining relationships, but there are other ways. You could begin with the persons most closely related to you by blood and move out through extended family to friends. Or begin with the people you spend most of your daytime with, colleagues, coworkers, and so on. You could begin with superiors and move to those who answer to you. All of these steps could be limited to a smaller set of people if that would be useful at this time. Then come to those relationship that are not going well. Possible failures are sometimes glaring, like anger or blatantly selfish action, and sometimes quite subtle and complex. For every relationship is triune: one person, the relationship, and another person, and all three matter. Honestly and exactingly lay five templates (to be described below) over each conflicted or faltering relationship. As you con-template your relationship with each person under each tem-plate, demand an account of yourself, for failures in relationships show up in many ways and manifest many personality limitations or flaws, or simple sins. For instance, perhaps you find yourself saying negative things about an old friend's character. What has happened in this r~lationship and what is your responsibility for it? What are you doing or failing to do that damages the rela-tionship, or the mission you share with this person (or persons)? These failures or dysfunctions can be variously accounted for. One way is by looking at them under five categories (which I borrow from Roberta Gilbert's Extraordinary Relationships). The categories will help you look clearly and honestly at any fal-tering relationship. They will demand that you take your respon-sibility for what you have done, what you are doing, what you must do, to make this relationship a strong and holy one. The Templates 1. Conflict. You cannot come to agreement with another in some serious matter. You have never got- Review for Religious ten over a rancorous argument. You answer each other with "yes, but." You are losing respect for the person. You question whether you can ever work together again. Any of these suggests a relationship of conflict, which is often a hot relationship. 2. Distancing. You hold each other at arm's length. You have become very polite to each other and a lit-tle standoffish. You rarely talk about anything serious; instead, you chat. You would deal as openly and warmly with a stranger. You would simply rather not have to pay attention to this person anymore. You are uncomfortable around him or her. This is distancing, and, though it seems to suggest that you have no relationship with this person, you have--a special one. 3. Cutting Off. You stay out of each other's way. You do not communicate even when you have to convey some information. You simply do not like this per-son. Your judgment is that this person is harming the family, community, apostolate. You would like to be rid of this person. This is a cutoff, and it is an intense relationship. 4. Excessive Mutual Dependency. You depend on each other, too much or far too much. One of you makes the decisions. One of you needs the emotional support of the other, and the other needs to give it. Others see you as a pair. You are cutting others out of this relationship, emotionally or practically. This is excessive dependency--in a way, too much of a relationship. 5. Triangling. You have an issue with another and, instead of going to the other, take it to a third person. You find yourself saying things about this person, not to him or h~r, but to others. You gossip about this person. You complain about his or her shortcomings to others, never to the person. Alternatively, you passively allow others to tell you things about this person which they ought to be saying to him or her. 6. Could there be another template? You may find a March-April 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen better term for a ~elationship in your life that is faltering, a term that clarifies for you what you are doing and might do. The Applications When you are on a team with another, you are not free to remain unrelated. The only issue is how you will choose to relate: whether well or badly, creatively or destructively, and, indeed, holily or unholily--all the more, of course, within your own family or among those who have somehow become your friends. Each of the five templates names a relationship--dysfunc-tional, but a relationship. It is crucial to accept that you are related to a person even when you cut him or her off, or are constantly arguing and debating with him or her, or when you are triangling. Humility demands--since it is truth--that you affirm your own contribution to making a relationship bad, or your cooperation in any dysfunctional relationship. Each of your relationships will have its own intensities, its own occasions, its own mixture of the apostolic, social, intel-lectual, affective, and so on. Each lays on you the light yoke of responsibility to accept the relationship as a gift from God, who is giving you freedom and the chance to love as God loves. When you find that one of the templates describes a current relationship, you will have to look into your heart more deeply to find out what is going on. At the same time, you will have to keep aware that the relationship has its own life and tempo, and that there is always "the other" or "the others." Prayer Jesus of Nazareth, my good brother, you worked with many and loved many. You loved aging laborers and the idle rich. You loved holy sisters and disrep-utable women. You worked with tax collectors and scribes. You chose partners who doubted and one who betrayed. You chose them, accounted for your choices to the Father, and stood by your friends to the end. Let me find my way in sureness and in risk, and give me courage to name those I relate to and clarity to know our shared responsibility. Help me to Review for Religious give my account to the Father and to stand by my friends to the end. Amen. Fourth, asking forgiveness for your sins and healing for those you have wounded and for yourself. "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." This is the only condi-tion in the prayer Jesus taught. You cannot overestimate the weight of forgiving others. Yours, after all, is "the ministry of reconciliation," for you are in mission with Jesus Christ. You cannot expect forgiveness and the experience of reconciliation, except to the extent that you have forgiven and become recon-ciled with others. This is no trivial matter, and as good a reason as any to make an examen something like this one. Pray for those whom you have failed, or offended, or hurt. You need to beg the Spirit of Love to make up for your short-comings. Prayer Holy Triune God, in you, giving and taking barely differ since both are done as love. I have taken and not given. I have given what I did not mean to give and not given what I wish I had, so far, so very far, am I from loving as you love. Grant'me to be close to you in this, at least: that I forgive wholeheartedly those who wound me, as Jesus forgave those who wounded him. And then I ask that you forgive me and make up for all that I have left undone. Amen. F~h, choosing to do one thing tomorrow. You are wise to choose a single act to do, a concrete act like making a phone call (some-times the hardest thing you will do that day) or writing a note. Your discernment brings you to see how you can enact your gratitude to God for the people in your life. You take responsi-bility for your part in the relationship, not trying to redeem, but only to help the other and to bring him or her closer to Christ. You may need to focus on one person: to reconcile, to praise or thank, to enjoy being with. You may need to focus on one group of people like your family or community or colleagues. You may need to focus on yourself: to accept that God is making you a unique lover, to accept others' acceptance of you as you are; or, alternatively, y6u may need to address some habit that you see aggravates others or turns them off. Or you may I27 March-~tprll 2002 Tetlow ¯ Examen need to see that you really have entered into in a new relation-ship. Or you may need to get ready for a meeting by spending precious time really preparing for it or praying that you.do well. Finally, you may need to focus on some concrete event that is coming up: an interview, a meeting, a confrontation. Or you may need to focus on some long-term development in a relarionship--unsettling conflict, growing distance, emotional-ities-- so that you can take some concrete action. In all of these focuses, you are trying to keep Jesus' own commandment, "Love one another the way I have loved you." Prayer 0 Lord, reconciler of us to ourselves, the whole world and all rime would barely hold all the acts that love demands of us. I beg you to accept the little act that for this time is what I can and would do to learn to love like you. Amen. Annunciation Holy one, favored one, the Lord is with you. Be it bright angel's word or voices in the dark or cannonball or caress, any manner of invitation is prelude to Yes Holy ones, favored ones, the Lord is with us. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious KAREN KARPER FREDETTE No Rapine in the Holocaust: Eremitical Life Today '~e what you are called to be--a passionate seeker of God through continual prayer that allows 'no rapine in the holocaust,'" declares a woman in her seventies dwelling in a rural hermitage in Massachusetts. She emphasizes the total dedication she deems necessary for her chosen vocation--that of a hermit. This apo-dictic statement is culled from 140 responses to a ques-tionnaire sent to 600 hermits and solitaries. The survey was circulated by an international newsletter for her-mits, "Raven's Bread: Food for Those in Solitude." Replies flowed in from such diverse places as New Zealand, French Canada, the Philippines, Bavaria, Ireland, Mexico, and forty of the fifty United States. This twenty-three percent response rate is con-sidered a phenomenal return on a survey and, of itself, says something significant about eremites. Interviewing a single hermit is a rare event; taking the pulse of large enough numbers to determine trends would be an impossible task if eremites themselves were the aloof, people-hating individuals portrayed in popular literature. This survey reveals, however, that Karen Karper Fredette writes from 18065 Highway 209; Hot Springs, North Carolina 28743. 129 March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust a lifestyle seasoned by hours of solitary prayer produces human beings distinguished by hospitality of spirit and a rare compassion. The essential hiddenness of eremiticat life is achieved by blending into one's surroundings. Recent History of Eremitism Even before Vatican Council II, a movement toward solitude and eremitical living had been noted. An historical but almost forgotten intervention at the council by Bishop Remy de Roo initiated a process that resulted in a new canon (c. 603) being written into the revised'Code of Canon Law that appeared in 1983. Bishop de Roo expressed his con-viction that the renewed vitality of the eremitical calling "indicates a special influence of the Holy Spirit, who inspires initiatives beneficial to the church and the modern world." Additionally, de Roo made the prophetic point that recognition of hermits would correct the impression that the practice of poverty, chastity, and obedience is limited to those living communal religious life. The myriad forms of hermit life reported in the recent survey prove the validity of this forecast. When an ancient vocation is recovered, old modalities often prove inadequate and new styles are fashioned. But can one devise a single expression for a call that transcends definitions of religious groups and flourishes among a devout and' occa-sionally unchurched fringe of society? What demographics, if any, can be assigned to an amorphous and largely hidden sub-culture that owns no common affiliation--nor desires any? In an effort to assess the state of eremitical life in the 21st century, the recent questionnaire invited hermits to draw their own demo-graphics. The results have been illuminating and inspiring. ¯ For some of us, a hermit may be living in the next apartment or down the street. Contrary to the caricature of hermits in their far caves, only three out of 140 reporting solitaries live in the "wilderness." A large number (31 percent) dwell in rural areas, but even more (43 percent) are to be' found in urban or Review for Religious suburban settings. Eight of those responding to the survey have chosen a site in the inner city. The essential hiddenness of eremitical life is achieved by blending into one's surroundings in such a way as,~to pass unnoticed even by one's neighbors. Many hermits abhor being singled out and so avoid any identifying sign of their inner dedication to solitude. Others, however, accepting the value of witnessing to a transcendent Reality in our midst, choose a simple habit and seek a recognized status within the church. Their countercultural stance is not militant, but rather a silent encouragement to others that a dif-ferent life is possible from that preached by an all-pervasive consumer society. When and to Whom Does the Call Come? A woman living in the southeastern United States writes: "I first heard the 'call' when I was four years old. I did not know What it meant--I only knew that it shook me to my founda-tion. I married, bore two children, and became a single mother. In my studies for clinical psychology, I discovered the works of Carl Jung. My inner life began shouting for attention. I listened. I shut down my practice, moved, got the children on their feet, and became a solitary. That was twenty years ago." A woman in the Philippines says, "Friends thought I was a fool to give up a secure full-time teaching position in a univer-sity, which sadly didn't leave me space and energy to pursue contemplative living--the one thing that gave meaning to all the rest." A married hermit living in California says, "I was a Hindu monk for five years, but the community did not support my attraction to hermit life." Ninety-eight women and forty-two men responded to the Raven's Bread survey. One-third of these are in their fifties. One-fourth are in their sixties. Only six persons responding are in their thirties. Further data confirms that most received the eremitic call later in life rather than earlier. Twenty-seven percent of those responding said they entered an eremitic lifestyle in their fifties, and twenty percent in their forties. Only eighteen percent followed the call to solitude while in their twenties or thirties. Maturity and life experience are necessary before a person 131 March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust can launch into the rigors of solitary living, though the desire may have been planted much earlier in life. This fact of mid-life transition is an echo of the ideal life-pattern espoused by many Eastern cultures. A person joins a monastery or becomes a monk, not at the beginning of life (except for a brief training period), but only after one has fulfilled family obligations and achieved a certain financial success that one then freely leaves behind. The initial results from the survey indicate that in the Western world the call to solitude replicates this wise rhythm. Good physical health and fitness are the norm among solitary dwellers. Forty-seven percent describe their health as "good," and thirty-eight percent claim "excellent" health. Mental and emotional stability radiate from the responses to the reflec-tion questions that accompanied the survey. For example, a Catholic priest in his fifties writes from an urban hermitage in California: "The grace and essence of solitary living is the abil-ity to live in and be continually conscious of the Presence of God, to become more aware of who one is, to become enlight-ened to see more and more with the vision of God, to struggle to live the compassion of God, to grow in serenity and peace-- in a word, to live the freedom of the children of God." Religious Affiliation and Status The largest number of respondents (92 of 140) are Roman Catholic, but the Anglican, Episcopal, Lutheran, and Baptist churches are also represented. Among the respondents we also find persons from the Society of Friends and Orthodox churches and from various Eastern mystical traditions as well. Of the Christian denominations, Catholicism has the most hermit-friendly atmosphere, but even here eremites frequently mention lack of support and outright discouragement of their aspirations. Of the ninety-two Catholic respondents, only seventeen had been recognized as hermits under canon 603; an additional six had professed a state of consecrated virginity under canon 604. The obstacle to canonical recognition most frequently cited by respondents was the indifference of bishops. Many local ordi-naries were suspicious and expressed unwillingness to allow per-sons to pursue church-sanctioned hermit life in their dioceses. Review for Religious In the United States, only three dioceses are reported in this sur-vey to have more than one hermit living according to canon 603. A woman living in an inner-city neighborhood in England says: "The one and only meeting I had with my present bishop (a Benedictine monk) lasted only a few minutes. I had pressured him into giving me an appointment and had waited eight months to see him. I asked if he would help me become publicly pro-fessed, and he said no. That was it, a monosyllable, no expla-nation, no hesitation, no interest, no concern. I had been living as a hermit for twelve years at that time." Sheila Richardson, who is working on her master's degree in canon law at the University of St. Paul in Ottawa, inquires pointedly: "Are bishops aware of canon 605? This canon requires diocesan bishops to strive to discern new gifts of consecrated life, assist promoters of such lifestyles, and protect these new forms by appropriate statutes." Eremitical life is flourishing without much active support from the establishment. This may well be a blessing, allowing persons seeking to live as hermits or solitaries freedom to devise the form of life that best expresses their aspirations without concern about standards only a select few can meet. Exploring the various categories of individuals who choose a predominantly solitary life, we find 67 single lay persons, 24 married people, 38 members of religious congregations, and 15 ordained ministers, male and female, from six different denominations. Catholic priests who are living as hermits often exercise a limited ministry among people living nearby. They have the permission of their local ordinaries to live in retirement from most of the demands of pastoral ministry and devote the larger portion of their time to the "works" of eremitical life in solitude. Others have established a rhythm of part-time ministry with a certain number of days each week spent in solitude. Another priest is searching: "I am now at the point of decision. I am looking for a hermit-loving bishop where I might support myself by celebrating weekend Masses and confessions, perhaps in some priestless parish. Beyond that, I would be free to live in my own cabin following my own hermit schedule." Being a member of a religious community, whether active or contemplative, does not guarantee understanding of or support March-April 2002 Fredette * No Rapine in the Holocaust for an eremitic calling--something which, incidentally, may arise after a person has faithfully pursued religious life for many years. Thirty-seven of the hermits responding to the survey are still members of religious congregations. But, of the laypersons now living as hermits, sixty percent were members of a religious con-gregation at an earlier stage in their journey. Half of the former religious women claim they left their community so they could follow their attraction to solitude. Many said they were deeply grieved by this "necessity" of departure. Only two of the male religious say that their reason for severing connections with their religious order was in order to pursue solitary life. In other words, twenty-five percent of the men who left religious life did so because they were unable to live solitary life within their com-munities; fifty percent of the women left for the same reason. The most surprising category to surface from an analysis of survey responses is that of married hermit. Strictly speaking, this is a contradiction in terms and one that is hard to justify. But, for those who so identify themselves, the vocation is real and valid. Of the twenty-three respondents who are married, not all claimed to be hermits, but more than half did so. In an effort to understand this phenomenon, the following question was posed: "If you are married and are attracted to solitude, how do you work this out with your spouse?" In reply a woman in Arizona said: "The working out of mar-riage and solitude contains., every contradiction that one can experience in making oneself vulnerable in love to God and the unfolding of God's call in another. Two people can be authen-tically called to solitude and to solitude with each other, but the expressions of it can be so very different. The sharing of phys'ical space has been of great pragmatic concern for us recently--how to arrange our home so it can facilitate simplic-ity of life, prayer, and solitude." A man in Connecticut said: "I decided to separate my own liturgy commitments from my marriage by rising each morning at three for my prayer schedule. Also, I go to bed a little before my spouse to be alone once more in prayer." A woman married to a permanent deacon said: "He shares my attraction to silence and solitude although his ministry is pastoral and mine is mainly prayer. Our small country parish requires very little contact with the people for me. I work qui- Review for Relig4ous etly and prayerfully in the background while he ministers to the people. Everyone seems to understand and accept this arrangement." A woman frankly confesses: "It [attraction to solitude] cre-ated great problems. The marriage ended because we could not work it out. We remained friends." Daily Lifestyles, Daily Problems One hundred and one of the 140 respondents to the sur-vey describe themselves as living alone with significant periods of solitude and prayer. Forty-four of these have a written sched-ule incorporating prayer, work, reading, and relaxation. Eighty-seven of the 140 respondents live an informal mix of these elements. Some of these noted that they had begun with a written schedule that gradually became a more flexible routine. Seventy-eight of the 140 re-spondents pray with others one or more times a week. The most frequent prayer-form cited was meditation. Almost ninety percent find daily periods of meditative prayer a necessity. Nearly as many include Eucharistic Liturgy as part of their daily or weekly prayer routine. Most respondents find special periods of retreat important. Almost half arrange for an "annual r~treat; some manage monthly or even weekly periods of retreat. Penitential practices preferred are fasting and vigils. Almsgiving is important, with forty-three percent giving either in cash or in kind. Thirty-six eremites have made public profession of the evan-gelical counsels. Thirty-eight have committed themselves pri-vately, their vows or promises witnessed by a church-related person. Almost all respondents (103) value spiritual direction, though many said that finding a spiritual guide has been diffi-cult. Forty-seven hermits function as spiritual guides for others. One hundred and one of the 140 respondents to the survey describe themselves as living alone with significant periods of solitude and prayer. 135 March-April 2002 Fredette ¯ No Rapine in the Holocaust The survey listed six areas that could prove problematic for eremites: housing, income, spiritual guidance, relationships with church representatives, physical health, and personal fears and insecurities. The most frequently cited problem is difficulties with church representatives; the next, finding adequate spiri-tual guidance. The expected difficulties of locating a suitable site and generating enough income had proved less trouble-some. In this third millennium of Christianity, eremitical life is experiencing a fresh flowering, with new blooms appearing on the ancient vine. Butthe essence remains the same: "For me, the grace of solitary living is Emptiness," a married hermit member of an oblate Benedictine community states categorically. "No rapine in the holocaust" continues to be the stark demand of solitary life. Lake's Edge At night I hear the motion of the lake. It sighs to its own heart. Foam frosts the weight of wetness flung toward the house where my light burns. I am waiting for the wind to bring the message that I long for, the meaning of breath and motion, and who it is that sends waves pulsing toward this empty shore. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious JAMES J. MAGEE Metaphysical Self in Other Mystical Traditions Ion an article in this journal (1994), I examined the devel-pment of metaphysical self in the writings of eight Christian mystics, concluding with Thomas Merton's definition (1966, p. 180) referring to "the depths of people's hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God's eyes." In short, metaphysical self is the term for one's self residing in God and God residing in it. Respondents to the article took the occa- ¯ sion to point out that metaphysical se/fappears also in the writ-ings of mystics from other religious traditions and recommended that I enlarge the presentation by incorporating some of them. Since these correspondents were women religious more famil-iar than I with these various mystical traditions, I asked them to participate in a monthly online chat room to examine meta-physical self as it appears in Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim (Sufi) mysticism. Our group of nine has met for the past five years, and this article presents some of the riches these mystical traditions brought to our understanding of meta-physical self. Each month we decided upon two primary sources we would examine in common, one Christian and one from another James J. Magee has written nine articles for our journal, the last in 1994. He is professor of counseling and gerontology at College of New Rochelle; New Rochelle, New York 10805. March-April 2002 tradition. In addition, each of us read the historical and con-textuai introductions preceding the texts or a monograph explaining their specific themes and imagery. At the conclusion of this article is a bibliography of the sources that we found particularly fruitful. Each tradition has its own style, some directly didactic and others more metaphorical. Each elabo-rates upon metaphysical self with novel, arresting paradoxes and engaging imagery that invigorated our familiarity with our own Christian mystics. Each, too, emphasizes the following components of metfiphysical self: the relational, nondualistic rootedness of self in God; transcendent individuality; engaged detachment as an expression of metaphysical self. Throughout this endeavor we dealt with paradoxes and found the most exhil-arating paradox in the power of other traditions to confirm our Christocentric perspective. Residing in God's Unconditional Acceptance This brief sampling of Christian mystics illustrates the con-tinuing emphasis they placed on the-self-residing-in-God: From Meister Eckhart: The soul is so completely one with God that the one cannot be understood without the other. One can think heat easily enough without fire and the shining with-out the sun, but God cannot be understood without the soul nor the soul without God, so utterly are they one. (p. 309) It is God's pleasure and rapture to discover iden-tity, because he can always put his whole nature into it--for he is this identity itself. (p. 167) From Julian of Norwich: Our soul sits in God in true rest, and our soul stands in God in sure strength, and our soul is naturally rooted in God in endless love. (p. 188) Between God and our soul there is neither wrath nor forgiveness. For our soul is so wholly united to God that nothing can interpose . Though we find in ourselves anger, contention, and strife, still we are all mercifully enclosed in God's mildness and meekness. (p. 189) Review for Religious From Catherine of Genoa: My being is God;. my me is God. (W'ilber, p. 72) From Thomas Merton: We know God insofar as we become aware of ourselves as known through and through by him. We "possess" him in proportion as we realize ourselves to be pos-sessed by him in the utmost depths of our being . Our knowledge of God is paradoxically a knowledge not of him as the object of our scrutiny, but of our-selves as utterly dependent on his saving and merciful knowledge of us. (1969, pp. 103-104) Note how this same emphasis appears in the following excerpts from Jewish and Muslim mystics: From the Maggid of Mezhirech: Man's essence is only the soul that is within him, which is a portion of God above. Thus, there is nothing in the entire world except the Holy One. (Uffenheimer) From the Kabbalah: There is nothing that is not pervaded by the power of divinity. God is everything that exists, though every-thing that exists is not God .Nothing is devoid of its divinity. (Matt, 1995) From Rumi: Remember God so much that you are forg9tten, until you are lost in the Call, without distinction of caller and called. (Breton and Largent, p. 23). You are my face. No wonder I can't see you. (Breton and Largent, p. 168) From 'Abd Allah Ansari (Kwaja 'Abdullah Ansari): One went to the door of the Beloved and knocked. A voice asked, "Who is there?" He answered, "It is I." The voice said, "There is no room for Me and Thee." The door was shut. Mter a year of sOlitude and depri-vation, he returned and knocked. A voice from within asked, "Who is there?" The man said, "It is Thee." The door was opened for him. (p. 94) O God, I possess that mirror in which you are reflected. Rather, I am that mirror. You are not sepa-rate from me. (p. 196) From Fakhruddin 'Iraqi: 139 MarchoApril 2002 The EternalOcean spews forth new waves. "Waves" we call them, but there is only. the Sea. (p. 77) From Ibn Al'Arabi: As in the case of a mirror and the beholder, he sees the form in it, but does not see the mirror itself. In your seeing your true self, He is your mirror and you are His mirror in which He sees nothing other than Himself. (p. 65) Through the intimate imagery and ecstatic directness that pervade these writings, the mystics of three monotheistic traditions seem to strain the point that, while human beings par-ticipate in the divine nature, they never become the essence of God. Their mystical reach, on the other hand, does touch upon that mystery which "no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love Him" (1 Co 2:9). The mystics intuit that persons are not dualistically separated from God, but "closely united with God in a love that is always moving toward oneness" (Johnston, p. 124). Transcending Individuality The Christian Scriptures address a second characteristic, the quality of relationships that proceed from metaphysical self. This characteristic also reappears in the mystical literature of other traditions, and our group members were able to find these paraphrases about metaphysical self-transcending indi-viduality: "Love is not self-seeking; it is not prone to anger; neither does it brood over injuries" (1 Co 13:5) becomes, in Rumi, the Sufi mystic, "Love has no calculating in itT' (Breton and Largent, p. 9) "Thanks be to God, who unfailingly leads us on in Christ's triumphal train, and employs us to diffuse the fragrance of his knowledge everywhere" (2 Co 2:14) occurs in Rtimi as "Vv~hether they know You or not, all creatures bend but toward You. M1 love for some-one else is but a whiff of Your perfume." (Breton and Largent, p. 141) "For I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink" (Mt 25, 35) appears; Review for Religious in the Bhagavad Gita, as "Any offering--a leaf, a flower, or a fruit, a cup of water--I will accept it if given with a loving heart." (Mitchell, 2000, p. 118) "Let us profess the truth in love" (Eph 4:15) is, in the Bhagavad Gita, "Speak the truth with kindness, honesty that causes no pain." (Mitchell, 2000, p. 178) These mystical sources echo the scriptural message that in human beings metaphysical self is inherently relational. Each of us is a seat of consciousness and an experiencing agent with-out being independent of others. Aitken and Steindl-Rast go so far as to say: "Underlying 'Love thy neighbor as thyself' has to be the experience that the other is no other than myself" (p. 113). Engaged Detachment During our years of meetings, members recognized a third characteristic, engaged detachment, as the way metaphysical self conducts itself in the world. This oxymoron refers to the readiness to invest ourselves in causes, tasks, and relationships while remaining ready to foi'go achieving our goals. It focuses upon process, both the deservingness of the activity at hand and the affirmation that we shall die unfinished, our potential only partly realized, and that completion is ultimately God's work and not our own. The different traditions of mystical writings repeatedly express this theme: From Julian of Norwich: God does not want his servants to despair because they fall often and grievously; for our falling does not hin-der him in loving us. (p. 188) From Paul Tillich: You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you . Do not seek for anything; do not intend anything. (Church, p. 180) From Anthony de Mello: There is no clinging to a classical symphony and no hastening it. One does not wait till the end to enjoy . it, but takes in every note, every chord as it comes and lets it go to welcome the next uninterrupted flow. Any attempt to stop the performance, any "attachment" to 14! March-April 2002 Nlagee ¯ Metaphysical Self a single note, will ruin the symphony. (p. 164) From the Tao Te Ching: A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent upon arriving. (Mitchell, 1988, p. 27) The Tao gives birth to all beings, creating without possessing, acting without expecting, guiding without interfering. (Welch, p. 41) From the Bhagavad Gita: With no desire for success, no anxiety about failure, indifferent to results, surrendering all thoughts of out-come, unperturbed, he does nothing at all, even when fully engaged in actions. There is nothing that he expects. (Mitchell, 2000, p. 75) From Fakhruddin 'Iraqi: Give up desire. Think that whatever you get is what you want, and in this acceptance find ease and joy. Renounce desire a hundred times. (p. 114) Engaged detachment, like the other characteristics of meta-physical self, is paradoxical. It invites a response of passive atten-tiveness wisely expressed in this admonition from the poet Rainer Maria Rilke: Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart. . Try to love the contradictions themselves. Do not now seek resolutions, which cannot be given because you would not be able to live them, and the point is to live everything. Live the contradictions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the resolutions. (p. 97) Imagery, Paradox, Complementarity, Love The imagery, metaphors, and paradoxes which other mys-tical traditions use to illuminate the nature of mystical se/famplify and complement the attention Christian mystics center upon on this theme. The artfulness of these other sources can help sustain us both in the apophatic ~loud through which Christian mystics typically view mystical self and in the relaxed tena-ciousness of our commitment to love others as ourselves. Review for Religious References 'Abd Allah Ansari, 1978. Intimate conversations. New York: Paulist Press. Aitken, R., and D. Steindl-Rast. 1996. The ground we share. Boston: Shambala. Breton, D., and C. Largent. 1998. Love, soul, and freedom: Dancing with Rumi on the mystical path. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden. Church, E 1987. The essential Tillich. New York: Macmillan. de Mello, A. 1992. One minute nonsense. Chicago: Loyola University Press. Fakhruddin 'Iraqi. 1982. Divine flashes. New York: Paulist Press. Ibn Al'Arabi. 1980. The bezels of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Johnston, W. 2000. "Arise, my love . . .": Mysticism for a new era. Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books. Julian of Norwich. 1978. Showings. New York: Paulist Press. Magee, J. 1994. "Shame, mystical writers, and a spirituality of self." Review for Religious 53, no. 5 (September-October): 746-752. Matt, D. 1995. The essential Kabbalah. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, p. 25. Meister Eckhart. 1986. Meister Eckhart: Teacher and preacher, ed. B. McGinn. New York: Paulist Press. Merton, T. 1966. Conjectures of a guilty bystander. New York: Doubleday. Merton, T. 1969. Contemplative prayer. New York: Herder and Herder. Mitchell, S. 1988. Tao te ching. New York: Harper and Row. Mitchell, S. 2000. Bhagavadgita. New York: Harmony Books. Rilke, R. 1978. When silence reigns: Selected prose. New York: New Directions. Uffenheimer, R. 1993. Hasidism as mysticism. Princeton: Princeton University Press, p. 74. Welch, H. 1966. Taoism: The parting of the way. Boston: Beacon. Wilber, K. 1983. Up from Eden. Boulder, Colo.: Shambala. Bibliography of Easily Accessible Sources Sources in Christian mysticism appear in the series Classics of Western Spirituality (Paulist Press). Sources for Buddhist and Taoist mysticism Da Liu. 1986. Tai chi ch'uan and meditation. New York: Schocken Books. Deng Ming-Dao. 1990. Scholar warrior: An introduction to the tao in everyday life. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. 143 March-April 2002 Magee ¯ Metaphysical Self Kohn, L. 1993. The taoist experience: An anthology. Albany: State University of New York Press. Merton, T. 1968. Zen and the birds of appetite. New York: New Directions. Mitchell, S. 1988. Tao te ching. New York: Harper and Row. Reps, P. 1957. Zen flesh, Zen bones: A collection of Zen and pre-Zen writ-ings. Rutland, Vermont: C.E. Turtle. Thich Nhat Hanh. 1987. The miracle of mindfulness: A manual on med-itation. Boston: Beacon. Watson, B. 1968. The complete works of Chuang Tzu. New York: Columbia University Press. Wei, H. 1987. The authentic I Ching. North Hollywood, Calif.: Newcastle. Sources for Hindu mysticism Dehejia, V. 1994. The legend of Rama: Artistic visions. Bombay: Marg Publications. Heehs, P. 1998. The essential writings of Sri Aurobindo. New York: Oxford University Press. Jack, H. 1989. The Gandhi Reader. New York: Grove Press. Krishnamurti, J. 1994. On conflict. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Mitchell, S. 2000. Bhagavadgita. New York. Harmony Books. Ramakrishna Vedanta Centre. 1972. Women saints of East and West. London: Ramakrishna Vedanta Centre. Shukla, S. 1999. The Upanishads. Fremont, Calif.: Asian Humanities Press. Sivaraman, K. 1989. Hindu spirituality. New York: Crossroad. Vetter, H. 1997. The heart of God: Prayers of Rabindranath Tagore. Boston: C.E. Tuttle. Sources for Islamic mysticism 'Abd Allah Ansari. 1978. Intimate conversations. New York: Paulist Press. Breton, D., and C. Largent, C. 1998. Love, soul, and freedom: Dancing with Rumi on the mystic path. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden. Chittick, W.C. 1983. The Sufi path of love: The spiritual teachings of Rumi. Albany: State University of New York Press. Ernst, C. 1984. Words of ecstasy in Sufism. Albany: State University of New York Press. Fakhruddin 'Iraqi. 1982. Divine flashes. New York: Paulist Press. Ibn Al'Arabi. 1980. The bezels of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Review for Religious Ibn A1-Sabbagh. 1996. Mystical teachings of Al-Shadhili. Chicago: Kazi Publications. Ibn 'Ata' Illah. 1978, The book of wisdom. New York: Paulist Press. Massignon, L. 1982. The passion of A1-Hallaj, mystic and martyr of Islam. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Schimmel, A. 1987. As through a veik Mystical poetry in Islam. New York: Columbia University Press. Sharafuddin Maneni. 1980. The hundred letters. New York: Paulist Press. Sources for Jewish mysticism Ben Joseph, A. 1987. Book of formation (Sepheryetzirah). San Francisco: Holmes. Ben Zion, R. 1984. Anthology of Jewish mysticism. Brooklyn, N.Y.: Judaica Press. Cohn-Sherbok, D. 1995. Jewish mysticism: An anthology. Rockport, Mass.: Oneworld. Jacobs, L. 1997. Schocken book of Jewish mystical testimonies. New York: Schocken Books. Kamenetz, R. 1998. Stalking Elijah: Adventures with today's Jewish mys-tical masters. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Kook, A. 1978. The lights of penitence, New York: Paulist Press. Matt, D. 1983. Zohar: The book of enlightenment. New York: Paulist Press. Matt, D. 1995. The essential Kabbalah: The heart of Jewish mysticism. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco. Nahman of Bratslav. 1980. The tales. New York: Paulist Press. Scholem, G. 1995. Major trends in Jewish mysticism. New York: Schocken Books. NEW ON OUR WEBSITE Searchable indexes of Review for Religious articles from January 1970 to the current issue Abstracts of the lead articles of the January 1997 isshe to the current issue and summaries of the others Complete text of A Spirituality for Contemporary Life: The Jesuit Heritage Today edited by David Fleming SJ and containing articles by J.J. Mueller SJ, Walter Burghardt SJ, David Fleming SJ, Monika K. Hellwig, Jon Sobrino SJ, Elizabeth Johnson csJ, and John W. Padberg SJ www.reviewforreligious.org -4 45 larch-, Jpril 2002 GERALDINE M. WODARCZYK Aging: Spiritually Present to the Burning Bush growing older For months now I have written multiple reflections on aging. They are connected with a book by Jane Marie Thibault2 She says that in later life people are invited to contemplation and that there should be contem-plative communities for the elderly. My congregation is 127 year old, and I have lived among aging and prayerful sisters for decades. I sought to formulate a theology of aging based on the spirituality of our foundress, Frances Siedliska. But, in spite of a wealth of material, no formulation presented itself. And so, with encouragement from Sister Judith Nero OSB, my local mentor for the gerontological program, I decided on a different focus, simply writing about my ministry experiences at Holy Family Manor. What are those experiences, and what are they calling me to in my own life? Perhaps, like Moses, I have discovered a "burning bush" and here, on holy ground, I learn of God. Geraldine M, Wodarczyk CSFN wrote this paper originally in a gerontological pastoral care program at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. Her address is Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth; 285 Bellevue Road; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15229. Review for Religious Years ago Sister Mary Paul Krasowski gave me a copy of a poem by an unknown author: The Moses in my heart trembles not quite willing to accept the prophet hidden in my being wondering how much it will cost to allow the prophet to emerge. O child of unnecessary shoes cast them off and stand in readiness on this awfully holy ground! For the Egypt in people's hearts demands that you see the burning bushes all around you aflame and burning wildly calling you forth away from the comfort of well-protected feet. The ground you stand on is holy! Take off your shoes believe in your Moses and go. Sister Mary Paul gave.me a copy a second time, when I was the superior at the Manor, my "holy ground" for the past six years. I realized that during this time I had been called to accept the prophet in me, and in others, as we search for God in our every-day realities. I have seen the Egypt in the hearts of sisters and heard their cry for freedom sung in many ways. Within the evening solitude that these days provided me, I discovered the Egypt within my own heart and heard a call to let go of false securities of my own and to find new freedoms within me. I have been present to "burning bushes" of experience with seasoned older sisters. In ways I never expected, God touched my life and called me from the comfort zone where I was six years before. 147 March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging With Fear and Trepidation In 1990, when first asked to consider being superior of the Manor, I flatly refused. I was already superior of a small convent of four sisters. I was engaged in full-time ministry as the province councilor for formation, and together with my brother, who was just beginning a family in Wisconsin, I was sharing long-distance care of our widowed father in Erie, Pennsylvania, who was steadily moving to a new stage of frailty in his life. These were the reasons I gave my provincial, but another rea-son was that I had never been present at anyone's death. Terrified, I could not imagine living where I would need to be present to sisters as they died. Time passed. In 1993 our father's condition became worse. When notified, I knew the seriousness of Dad's condition, but did not realize that, with the physician, my brother and I would be making decisions that Dad was not able to make about his failing life. As Divine Providence would have it, I was in Erie when decisions about the breathing and cardiac machines needed to be made, and I was present during Dad's last hours and death. I learned that a broken heart is a real experience. I was changed, and so in 1994, when a new provincial asked me about being superior of Holy Family Manor, I said I would be willing. The provincial was taking seriously the choice of the superior. First, after asking the sisters living in the Manor for suggestions and reviewing the list, she and her council had three sisters come to a mandatory day of reflection in a small cottage on our motherhouse grounds. Our retirement home had sixty-nine beds and sixty-six sisters at various stages of aging. The retreat director, Sister Ann Winschel CDP, invited us to consider our gifts and what might be our stumbling blocks in accepting the ministry. I went to my room in the cottage and prayed with open hands, letting God put there what I needed and giving God the freedom to take away any drawbacks to my willingness to accept this ministry. For most people, praying with open hands is a simple gesture, but for me--with hands affected by rheumatoid arthritis--the gesture spoke of my own human brokenness. Could God really want me, already a broken vessel, to shep-herd these senior religious in their last days? At the end of the retreat, after sharing our personal reflec- tions, we were asked to express our final decision in a letter to the provincial. I wrote of openness to the ministry, my aware-ness of my gifts in working with the elderly, and my recognition that I could use them only in the context of my own brokenness. I qualified my openness by saying that, if I had an incapacitating flare-up of the arthritis, I would take it as an indication that this service was not appropriate for me. Three months later my provincial telephoned me, saying that the council had unani-mously chosen me the next Manor superior. She wanted me to take some preparation time with the current superior, attend the upcoming American Society of Aging conference, and offi-cially begin on the first of May. On Sunday, 30 April 1995, in the early afternoon, I arrived at the Manor. I was scheduled to be in the chapel for a wel-coming prayer and commitment service at four o'clock. The previous superior had already left. Three sisters were waiting for me at the door, welcoming me with one breath and asking with another, "You will take us to the festival at Mr.Assisi, won't you?" Barely gathering my belongings from the auto-mobile and putting them in my room, I welcomed the excur-sion (a five-minute trip) to the Franciscan sisters' festival. Though a busy place, it was a respite where I could amble with-out any focus on the fears and anticipation that were part of me at this transition moment. We returned home and soon four o'clock came. In the presence of the retired sisters, the provincial asked me several questions: Will you accept this responsibility [to be local leader] which the sisters have confided in you? Do you promise to serve the sisters in kindness, compassion, and charity, in the spirit of our blessed foundress, Frances Siedliska? Will you strive to be faithful to the Covenant of Love [our constitutions] and the directives of your general and provincial superiors? Responding affirmatively, I was given a bouquet of roses by the provincial and was told: "Your ministry as servant leader will be a mixed blessing. Both joy and sorrow, possibility and I could not imagine living where I would need to be present to sisters as they died. !49 ~¥larch-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging impossibility, success and failure will accompany you. These roses, themselves offering both beauty and pain, are given to you with our gratitude for accepting this mission." After the sisters voiced their support, I recited the following: As I approach this ministry of servant leadership, I pray: Hollow out in me, O God, a space in which I will find myself, find peace and a whole heart, a for-giving spirit and holiness, springs of laughter, and the will to reach boldly for abundant life for myself, this local community, and the whole human family. Grant me your peace, instill in me such awe of you as will make me wise, and such quiet courage as will enable me to make hope visible, forgiving delight-ful, loving contagious, faith liberating, and peace-mak-ing joyful. Shape my weakness into compassion and help me to make myself open and present to my sisters, to oth-ers, and to your kingdom. Amen.2 And so I began my sojourn as the convent superior of our retire-ment community. Except for my Franciscan festival invitation, my first encounter with one of the sisters came that evening, when Sister Maura3 told me, "On behalf of the entire community here at Holy Family Manor, .I want to tell you it is too cold in this build-ing." "Temperatures!" I thought; "after that profoundly religious service, I am supposed to adjust thermostats!" And so it was-- God was inviting me to listen to the concerns of everyday life, the little things that are so important in these sisters' lives. The Power of the Word The next morning I had an announcement to make in the first-floor dining room, where forty sisters sat. Besides some trembling, my voice did not carry well, especially for the good number with impaired hearing. Finally I got the message across. Shortly thereafter, a sister from the second-floor dining area came complaining that I did not give the sisters there any message. What was I to do? The next day I typed out some items of common interest and posted them in the elevator, Review for Religious thereby causing traffic jams. Sisters would ride up and down until they finished reading the note. I realized that we needed copies of the newsletter posted in various places, including the elevator. This simple arrangement, providing this large num-ber of sisters direction for the coming day, also informed them about what was happening in our home. Was this communication episode a "burning bush" in which I found God? At least I learned how impoytant the communi-cated word is to people, and that it could promote love and caring in this household. It calmed the fears of the sisters who wondered about who was in the house: other sisters, guests, contractors, maintenance work-ers. The daily newsletter included a prayer request list and kept the sisters informed about the health progress of the sisters in the hos-pital. The newsletter invited the sisters to share a joke as well as to request prayer for themselves I learned how important the communicated word is to people, and that it could promote love and caring. or others. It became their newsletter. It provided a source of unity and dismantled some rumors that institutions readily give rise to. It hung for twenty-four hours at eight places in the building. Each of us had plenty of time to return to it to get the news of the day. There is a power in the written word. It is a way love can be communicated. Isn't the Word the way God communicates the greatness of Divine Love? And did the Word not become incarnate in the most simple and humble way? Perhaps in some small way the newsletter really was a "burning bush." The Joy of the Resurrection After living a short while in the Manor, I noticed a heavi-ness- sadness in the sisters' demeanor, depressive postures; even the daily Masses were in remembrance of the deceased. Although all the bedrooms are quite alike, some were considered "dying rooms," and sisters shuddered at the thought of being placed there. March-April 2002 V~odarczyk * Aging When I arrived at the Manor in the midst of spring, I was still flesh with the message of the Easter season's life-giving liturgical readings. One reading kept coming back to me, the one about the women returning to the tomb who were asked, "Why do 3iou search for the Living One among the dead?" (Lk 24:5). One day these words, stirring in my h.eart, became reversed. I heard, "Why do you search for the dead among the living?" Something changed within me, and I realized how alive, even with some physical limitations, these sisters were. I knew that I needed to foster that life of theirs. I knew that I should help them help each other to build a happy life within this retirement community. By Pentecost I looked for the evi-dence of the Spirit as we tried new things and reviewed old practices. What brought the gifts of "love, joy, peace, patient endurance, kindness, generosity, faith, mildness" (Ga 5:22-23) that Paul spoke about? The things that brought such results to the majority of the community would be fostering and increas-ing in the sisters the new life of Easter. How else does God speak to us and affirm our actions except by the gifts of the Holy Spirit? In late May 91-year-old Sister Ellen was rushed to the hos-. pital in excruciating abdominal pain. "A perforated bowel," the doctor told me and asked, "What do you want me to do? I don't think that Sister could survive the surgery." Asking Sister, who was fully conscious, was to me the obvious thing to do. The doctor explained the options: surgery or palliative care. Sister Ellen looked at me with the most trusting eyes. "You are my superior," she said. "Whatever you decide will be God's will for me." I could not believe my ears, nor was I prepared for this responsibility she placed on me. She remained adamant. "I trust that your decision is God's will for me." I had not been reared in religious life with that degree of surrender put into a supe-rior's hands. Mine was a formation toward dialogue, toward coming to a mutual decision. She, however, simply continued to insist. From her primary-care physician, I learned that Sister Ellen had specifically said a few weeks earlier that she never wanted another surgery. When I managed to contact our provin-cial superior, who was traveling in Europe, she concurred with the decision for palliative care. Review for Religious I remain humbled by the trust Sister Ellen placed in me. I learned that being an instrument of God in these sisters' lives is something very serious indeed. I learned of my own need for prayer and intimacy with a God who, though transcendent, is immanently present to us and our decisions. Second Floor: 0 God, Are You There? A visitor to our Manor told me happily that her little boy would be three years old in a couple of weeks. On hearing that, he began to cry, "I don't want to be three, Mommy." Holding her tearful child, she said to me: "When he turns three he has to go to the next room in the day care. He doesn't want to take that step." It can be like that with the elderly, too. In conversations with oth-ers who deal with the elderly, I have found that there is always some place where res-idents do not want to go. It may be called the A wing or Mary's Corridor or something sim-ilar. In our convent it is simply called "the second floor." It is where those needing the most care live. Agreeing to live on the second floor is, for some of us, accepting death--even though, in reality, it may be years away. When I came to the Manor, the frailest sisters on the sec-ond floor would sit or recline in geri-chairs in a semicircle in what was called the solarium. These sisters were clean and well kept, but some would randomly yell out a prayer, a request, a humorous remark, or something incoherent. When people passed by Sister Lynnette--her parochial school teaching over and end-stage Alzheimer's drawing near--she would insist, "Line up for the fire drill, without talking!" If you did not do so, your misbehavior called for discipline. Although humorous, these moments were also sad, for Sister Lynnette had been such an excellent teacher. Many sisters shied away from the second floor, and espe-cially the solarium, where these frail sisters spent long days, I have found that there is always some place where residents do not want to go. March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Agigg still as icons. This comparison struck me as I read some words of Henri Nouwen: Icons are not easy to "see." They do not immediately speak [appeal] to our senses . They do not reveal themselves to us at first sight. It is only gradually, after a patient, prayerful presence, that they start speaking to us. And, as they speak, they speak more to our inner than to our outer sense. They speak to the heart that searches for God.4 The frailest sisters on the second floor "do not reveal them-selves," or the Holy, immediately. It is only after I become prayerfully present to them that their presence, in their dimin-ished physical or mental condition, speaks to my heart. They tell me about life's brevity, about our dependence on God, and show that we are only pilgrims here. One day I took a visiting priest acquaintance to see our treasured sisters on the second floor. He began preaching to them about their duty to contemplate. With blank faces they just looked at him. A confused embarrassment seized him, and he became speechless. There was nothing more to say. Later I wondered if these sisters are in the contemplative state of being in God's wordless embrace. One cannot know such secrets. These sisters, and we ourselves, spend lives desiring such close-ness. But, because they and we have also spent years seeking responsible and prudent control of our lives, such vulnerability, such complete dependence on God and on others, is likely to be fraught with fear as well. On a recent visit to Pittsburgh, Trappist monk Thomas Keating, founder of Contemplative Outreach, spoke to an ecu-menical group gathered at another Franciscan motherhouse. He spoke of the prayerful consent that is part of Centering Prayer, for fostering contemplative experience. He spoke of the call to follow Christ and to let go of possessions--not external possessions so much as interior ones, the baggage of attitudes that we carry with us (in his phrase, the false self). At one point he looked up at the' choir loft, where the frailest of the com-munity's sisters were. He spoke directly to them, taking note of their willing acceptance of their present frailty, their loss of health, their losses of young self-reliance and of status in the community. He saw their disabilities as precious gifts from God, Review for Religious things to be grateful for. His words reminded me of my own sisters on the second floor. But to accept diminishment with gratitude is not easy. Solidarity with Suffering A few footsteps away from my office, my belief in the cru-cified and resurrected Christ was tested. Suffering is a mystery. We do not want to see others suffer, nor do we want suffering in our own lives. When faced with the suffering of people we love, what is our response? Henri Nouwen says: A friend who was very ill had a great devotion to Mary, the mother of Jesus, and derided to make a pilgrimage to Lourdes to ask for healing. When she left, I was afraid that she would be disillusioned if no miracle happened. But on her return she said, "Never did I see so many sick people. When I came face-to-face with that human suffering, I no longer wanted a miracle. I no longer wanted to be the exception. I experienced a deep desire to be one of them, to belong to these wounded people. Instead of praying for a cure, I prayed that I would have the grace to bear my illness in solidarity with them. And I trust that the mother of Jesus will bring my prayer to her Son."s As for myself, I have never come to the point of wanting "to be one of them." I desire to be well. But so did this dear woman on her way to Lourdes for healing. Is true healing the ability to love so deeply that we long to share others' intense pain and sorrow? That is what Jesus did. When we are young, we find many ways to escape that question and that reality. As we age and see diminishment in ourselves, our families, and our friends, the question returns. That call to solidarity in suffering is a difficult call to hear, especially when the time actually comes for us to visit--or move to--the "second floor." Sacrament of the Present Moment - Even in Dementia "Where am I going?" she asks, her body slumped. The eyes, once sparkling with joie de vivre, now are dim, like smoldering wicks. "I can understand," she says, "why, without faith, one155 March-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging could commit suicide. Not that I want to," she says, "but I understand. I know why others would do this." Coming out of my own uncomfortable search for something to say, I ask, "Do you have faith? . Why, yes, I do." But soon she is asking, "What should I do? What is happening to me?" These words rose in her during the initial stages of Alzheimer's. It is easy to agree with the maxim that "a mind is a terrible thing to waste." In a group where many have been educators, the relentless decline of mental acumen is truly frightening. In this place, you can imagine the ardor one brings to reading the "Nuns' Study" !6 In the light (or darkness) of this feared disease, a faith per-spective does not come easy, even in a congregation whose motto is "Thy will be done." I needed to be reverently present to any-one who was concerned about Alzheimer's, just as I did to those showing symptoms of it. I needed to be cautious about explain-ing away dementia-with pious sayings or even a quick quota-tion from Scripture. For many months Sister Mary would stalk me, particularly at sundown. Even when I did not initially see her, I could sense her presence and her foreboding look. I had learned earlier that I should keep touch with my own inner experience when relat-ing to others. With Mary, the more I avoided her physically and psychologically, the more she pursued and pressured me. Her cognitive impairment was becoming worse. I would think, "Oh, here she is, pestering me again!" or "She's got dementia. She doesn't know what she's talking about." One time she was particularly adamant: "How awful to be on the second floo!! How cruel you were to put me there!" And on and on, in a sort of frenzy. I wondered, "What ever happened to that loving and supportive friend I had for so many years?" I thought of relat-ing to her as a simple matter of"how to handle a difficult situ-ation." I thought of Christ being in her, but was far from experiencing it. Worn down by her raving, I was wondering if she had received her medication. I called the nurse to ask. Sister Mary heard me and said, "You think medication is going to take care of this? You are not around and you think medicine is going to cure this? That's not the way! That's not the way!" My "quick and appropriate solution"--so that I could be about more Review for Religious "important" things--stirred up more mistrust in Sister and greater frustration in me. Then my faith invited me to adopt a new perspective. I paused, put aside other matters, sat face-to-face with her, and listened. Soon both of us were at peace. After a while she returned to her room for the evening. This scenario occurred more than once. Afterwards, pondering the healing that took place when I was more present to her, I realized that there is a sacramentality in such moments. Jean-Pierre de Caussade says: There is never a moment when God does not come forward in the guise of some suffering or some duty, and all that takes place within us, around us, and through us both includes and hides his activity. Yet, because it is invisible, we are taken by surprise and do not recognize his operation until it has passed by us. If we could lift the veil and if we watched with vigilant attention, God would endlessly reveal himself to us, and we should see and rejoice in his active presence in all that befalls us. At every event we should exclaim: "It is the Lord!''7 Can I be alert to this potential revelation of God the next time I am stalked by one of my own sisters? When people complain to me about the odd behavior or mental confusion of a dear friend of theirs, can I help them see Christ's presence in the situation? How do I do that? Caussade reminds us of the power of faith: It is faith which interprets God for us. Without its light we should not even know that God is speaking, but would hear only the confused, meaningless bab-ble of creatures. As Moses saw the flame of fire in the bush and heard the voice of God coming from it, so faith will enable us to understand his hidden signs, so that amidst all the apparent clutter and disorder we shall see all the loveliness and perfection of divine wisdom.8 Seeking Life's Deeper Meaning A few years ago Sister Mary Stella came to my office quite excited about the prospect of winning a car or money for the 157 Vlarch-April 2002 Wodarczyk ¯ Aging community. A piece of mail had informed her that she had been "selected to win." I tried to explain to her about the money-maEing ploy of these contests. She insisted: "Fill it out for me. I can't see!" Hoping that somewhere in this experience there would be a teachable moment, I filled out the form and mailed it. A few weeks later she received a "free" watch. "See," she told me, "I am already winning! I will really help the congre-gation when the check arrives." Not long after the watch came, Sister was billed $75 for a magazine subscription. She called me to her room. Obviously upset, she said she did not have the money for this subscription and believed that, if she canceled it, she would be responsible for the salesperson's losing her job. "I should have listened to you," she lamented. My teachable moment had arrived! Though I was angry about companies that exploit senior citizens, I gently explained to her that this is an advertising gimmick, that all she needed to do was write "cancel" on the bill and mail it back; the matter would be over. She listened. I left the room thinking all was well. But within a few days Sister stopped eating. She did not come to morning Mass. She stayed in her room, depressed and despondent. Noticing this, I spent some extended time with her, but she was silent. She wanted to see a priest. I called the Franciscan priest who often served us, and he paid her a pastoral visit. Her depression lingered. I visited her again. She still lamented, "I can't pay the bill, and the poor man will lose his job." Her suffering was evident. Her sheltered and "precomputer" life did not prepare her to understand today's big-business advertising. So I listened, and then I suggested that we write the man a letter with an apology, explain her cur-rent financial situation, and return the watch. Her eyes lit up at the prospect. Together we composed a letter, which she signed and I mailed. In a few days she was back to normal. A few months later her health declined, simply by reason of her advancing age. When I visited, she looked up at me from her bed and with a most peacef~l look said, "I will never forget your gentleness to me when I thought I would win that money. You were so kind." The entire episode showed us God's grace working in both our lives. I continued to see how greatly these older sisters desire to contribute to the congregation. Review for Religqous Supporting the congregation financially gave meaning to the sisters all their lives, even as they themselves led a frugal existence. They had experienced the Depression firsthand and had stories to tell about begging alongside factories, begging h0use-to-house for summer stipends, or asking for funds by writing letters to family and friends. Today, for some, lotteries and various contests appear to be another source of financial support for the congregation. One sister, clear-minded at ninety-nine, had a lucky streak. Although she lived frugally, I heard rumors of her "having money." Family and friends would buy her lottery tickets and then cash them in for her when she mailed back the winning ticket. Although I was "out of the loop" of direct information about these transactions, I somehow always found out about them. Though some might find gambling question-able in light of the vow of poverty, I waited to see what would happen eventually, since Sister's participation connected her to others and caused no harm. Sometimes months would pass between rumors of her winnings and her eventual cash donation of $200 or $300. The happiness she radiated sent the message that even at ninety-nine she could contribute to the community. She rarely wanted anything for herself. Suspicions about a breach of her vow disappeared. I have often noticed with what pride the sisters contribute their Christmas, birthday, Easter, and anniversary donations to the communal kitty, expecting my gratitude as they do so. I appreciate what they do, but I have encouraged them to find meaning in other parts of their lives too. Their very presence in love, patience, and faith is a meaningful gift to the community, to their families, and to all who witness their kindness. I have invited them to look for ways of spreading the Good News in and beyond the community. I have tried to be attentive to the I have often noticed with what pride the sisters contribute their Christmas, birthday, Easter, and anniversary donations to the communal kitty. March-April 2002 Wodarczyk * Aging ordinary things they accomplish or experience, and I have lis-tened affirmingly as they speak about what they did and are doing with their lives. I have learned, too, about meaning that is not initially obvious. Sister Gina was a "collector." Her room was filled with any-thing and everything. Some might call it clutter. One day she said to me, "You know, when I die, people will complain about all the stuff I left behind. Some have already asked me to clean things up. But I want you to know something. Now that I can go nowhere, I have brought into my room all kinds of things that bring to mind the wonderful friends I have had in my life. These things always make me happy, and I pray for these peo-ple as well." When Sister Gina died, I took care of her things quietly, without others knowing, needing to respect the gen-uineness of her words to me. Most of this "junk" humbly con-veyed love and friendship and gave meaning to Sister Gina's last days. An Incarnational Spirituality When our sisters come to the Manor, transportation diffi-culties and their declining health limit their activity. Two things seem to arise in the absence of formal ministry. There is some-times an unhealthy focus on self and on the "world" of the Manor. Small matters become major concerns. Negativity can result. Teresa of Avila saw such problems in her cloistered monastery.9 There is perhaps no one remedy, but I have seen changes for the better when sisters choose other avenues of ser-vice or ministry or other activities compatible with their new status and their personal limitations. The healthiest and happiest in the Manor were those who were able to rechannel their formation-for-ministry in creative ways. Writing letters to friends, family members, and politi-cians and intercessory prayer for the needs of others are integral to the sisters' lives and are a genuine service they render. Decorating the chapel for feasts, participating as readers or Eucharistic ministers during the litu#gies, companioning another to the physician, sending get-well cards to the hospitalized, and visiting the "second floor" are but a few of the ways the sisters incarnate their love for God in service to their neighbor. Their Review for Religious humble acceptance of their limitations and their patient strug-gles day by day become invaluable tools in building up the body of Christ, as those who are touched by their witness can testi@. For the sisters, their personal sufferings take on deeper mean-ing as they offer them for the intentions of people who have requested their prayer and support. Perhaps some ecumenical healing takes place as well, as staff members of different faiths take care of these sisters, who have lived their lives with hearts so attuned to Roman Catholicism. The sisters remain educators, teaching young care-givers about faith, patience, forgiveness, hope, acceptance and nonacceptance of suffering and dying. The sisters, too, are stretched to go beyond the images of a vowed religious life that is past and gone. After fifty years or more of religious life, that is not a small stretch. Sports on television and radio, and movies, books, excur-sions, concerts, and so forth offer relaxation and outreach--for nothing can "separate us from the love of Christ" (Rm 8:35). Some sisters have become mentors or teachers in various spe-cialties. One Sister translated from Polish to English a valu-able book on the foundress of our community, Frances Siedliska. With phones now in every room, telephone ministry to family and friends became possible. Advocacy for human rights and other special interests is also a possible ministry for the sisters. If we live by the truth and in love, we can "grow in all ways into Christ" (Ep 4:15). All these ways of service build the king-dom of love among the family of God; they express the mis-sion of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth. "Tell Him to Wait!" Several months ago Sister Helen, our 95-year-old, was quite ill. She ceased to breathe during an MRI, and the hospital staff, acting on impulse rather than consulting her advance directive, resuscitated her. The doctor called me and told me Sister had been placed on a breathing machine. Twenty-four hours later the doctor removed the breathing machine, and, staunchly, Sister Helen survived the ordeal. I visited her in the hospital and reminded her gently, "Sister Helen, you are very ill. Perhaps 1K1 March-April 2002 Jesus will call you soon." "Let him wait," she bellowed; "I'm not dead yet!" I was taken aback, slow to see the humor. Later I reflected: "She has been a baptized Catholic for ninety-five years and a member of our religious community for eighty years. She has prayed each day of those years. She has a profound rela-tionship with God. After eighty years of relating, a certain free-dom of relationship must exist between lovers. How free Love can make us!" Sister Caritas died several years ago, and I especially remem-ber her dying. Racked with fever, in great distress, she held my finger tightly--so firmly that it reminded me of what my friend Maureen told me about a birth. Her sister's husband was on a business trip, and Maureen was in the delivery room with her sister. Her sister grasped her hand so tightly during the birth that Maureen needed several weeks of hand therapy afterward. While grasping my finger, Sister Caritas, too, was being born, born into eternal life. I have been with others who have died, not all struggling as did Sister Caritas. Some have gone to the Lord gently. Others have chosen to stop treatment and accepted the palliative care that became part of that choice. Some died after years, months, or a few days of being bedridden; others, while taking a nap. Each "birthing" has been different, each one very final, each one inviting me to deepen my belief in the life hereafter. Here at the Manor--or anywhere, of course--other kinds of dying occur earlier, before that actual moment. Every stage of Elisabeth Kubler-Ross's death-and-dying theory is lived out here: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.1° Are some stages more appropriate, more holy, than others? ls the sis-ter in denial less effective in dealing with dying than the one who is angry and displacing it at every available opportunity? And the one who bargains--"If I keep on living on the third floor, I'll never get like those on the second floor"--is she less holy than the one whose depression shows all over her face and in her every bodily move? And is she still less holy than the one who grieves her loss, accepts additional personal help, gently accepts the everyday deaths and dyings that are part of human experience? I think there can be no comparisons here. When one strug-gles in the face of d~ath, regardless of what type, the struggle is Review for Religious real. "It remains true," as Pope John Paul has observed, "that the years pass quickly, and the gift of life, for all the effort and pain it involves, is too beautiful and precious for us ever to grow tired of it." 1, And so we struggle and deny, are angered, bargain, and are depressed. In the end we do accept the reality that has been presented to us by Life. The challenge for me in the Manor community was to have faith in this precious journey and trust that the increasing pains are redemptive. I chose to permit people to be themselves: I challenge, but do not force. Rather, I wait in patience for God's grace to touch hearts and hurts and lead all of us into his sacred presence. My Beloved As we religious grow toward accepting death, the inevitable reality shared by all creation, I believe that a life of prayer sustains us. Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continuously return . It is a Light within which illuminates the face of God. for the spiritual person is forever bringing all affairs down into the light, holding them there in the Presence, reseeing [sic] them and the whole of the world., in a new and overturning way.12 A life of prayer is different for each of us: some tending to more prescribed prayers, others to a more wordless prayer. What is common about prayer life is the deep relationship with God that is so special and so sacred to each one. Inscribed on each sis-ter's profession ring are the words "My Beloved is mine and I am His," from the Song of Songs (2:16). She not only wears that ring, she lives that reality. Recently I was asked to be the community witness when Sister Ann's casket was closed. Before burial we normally remove from the deceased our congregational cross and ring. On this occasion the undertaker could not remove the ring. I advised him to leave it and close the coffin. Reflecting on this moment afterwards, I considered it to be as symbolic as the ring itself. Sister Ann, orphaned as a child, surrendered herself to God March-April 2002 Wodarczyk * Aging through her vows and eventually, as Alzheimer's disease kept taking its toll, was stripped of family, friends, and even cogni-tion. The one thing that remained was the reality: she was her Beloved's and her Beloved was hers. The sisters at the Manor foster that relationship with their Beloved in many ways, including personal and communal prayer. Communally we have had to vary our prayer style here. Because of impaired hearing and sight and various other physical limi-tations, we no longer say Office in common. But the sisters pray faithfully --in their rooms, in the chapel, at Mass, on the porch, while walking outdoors or in the corridors, and during our spe-cial Friday mornings in the chapel. When they are very ill, they may say they cannot pray, and some are troubled by this. Others say that they are simply united with Jesus in their suffering, which is "nothing compared with His." Still others are quiet, their faith wrapping them palpably like a shawl. At times faith grows in darkness. It is no small discomfort when one who has dedicated her ehtire life to God questions the existence of God. When suffering is too much, "God, O God, why did you abandon me?" becomes the prayer of the day, or week, or even longer. In community, even as we pray in various ways, we journey in prayer together. Just as the psalms pray through the gamut of human emotion, so our lives together become a living psalter. Anlen I cannot think of any richer ministry experience within my thirty-nine years as a member of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Nazareth than the time I spent in service to my sisters at Holy Family Manor. But my two three-year terms as convent superior here have come to an end. "Relieved?" my current provincial superior asked me before announcing my replacement. "Mixed feelings," I mumbled. But I know that this is right and good. My body and my spirit home in on a few words in my Moses poem: "Take offyour shoes, believe in your Moses, and go." Now they have a fuller meaning: ". go, relax awhile, and then, changed by this burning-bush experience of yours, go on and minister to whatever people I, your God, choose for you!" I respond: Amen. Review for Religious Notes l Jane Marie Thibault, A Deepening Love Affair: The Gift of God in Later in Life (Nashville: Upper Room Books, 1993). 2 The welcoming service was composed by Sister Therese Frankowski. 3 The names of most of the sisters in this article have been changed. 4 Henri J.M. Nouwen, Behold the Beauty of the Lord: Praying with Icons (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987). s Henri J.M. Nouwen, Our Greatest Gift: A Meditation on Dying and Caring (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1994). 6 David Snowden PhD, Aging with Grace: What the Nuns' Study Teaches Us about Leading Longer, Healthier, and More Meaningful Lives (New York: Bantam Press, 2001). 7 Jean-Pierre de Caussade, Abandonment to Divine Providence, trans. John Beevers (New York: Image Books, 1975), p. 34. ~ Caussade, p. 37. 9 The Way of Perfection, chap. 4. ,0 Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, On Death and Dying (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1969). '~ John Paul II, Letter to the Elderly (1 October 1999), §1. ,z C.S. Lewis, as cited in A Step Beyond: Advanced Training in Pastoral Bereavement Counseling (Archdiocese of New York: The Ministry to the Bereaved, November 1994), p. 32. School Day, 1947 I am seven, on my way to school, crisp snow sparkles in the sun. As I walk along, I reflect that some day a man will offer me a diamond ring, but today God himself has hurled thousands at my feet. Mary Hanson ~larch-April 2002 HELEN JEAN NOVY Coping with Repetition: A Spirituality for Ministering to the Elderly ~ehncoeuthneter rds uwriinthg tfhaem eilldye rvlyis iotfst eonr ifnovromlvael mdeianliisntgry w, iothur their habits of repetition. I have overheard "Dad, you say the exact same thing every time I come," and I have heard myself saying "Mom, you ask me that again and again." The proverb "Variety is the spice of life" inclines us to assume variety as a condition of anyone's continuing interest or at least as a lively attention getter. Repetition, however, is a necessary complement to variety. A systematic interplay of repetition and variation is a sine qua non for the arts. Consider the structure of sonatas or the form of songs. Aaron Copland's "Simple Gifts" in Appalachian Spring is an example of theme and variations, as is Max Reger's Variations on "America." In prayer, too, there is repetiton and variation. Christians regularly praying the Liturgy of the Hours, for example, are so accustomed to Morning Prayer's psalms for Week One that most know them by heart. Their predictability provides a rhythm that matches the regularity of breathing. But along with this comes the season's or feast's antiphon, giving a turn to the verses of the psalm and in a sense reinventing them. Helen Jean Novy HM is director of mission effectiveness at Magnificat High School; 20770 Hilliard Road; Rocky River, Ohio 44116. Review for Religious For Sunday of the First Week in Ordinary Time, this antiphon begins and ends Psalm 63: "As morning breaks I look to you, O God, to be my strength this day." The antiphon suffuses the psalmist's words that follow: "O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." For the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, a different anti-phon frames the same psalm w"I know the one whom I have trusted"--and gives it a different tinge: "O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." The synoptic Gospels, echoing each other in recounting the same events and sayings, do it with small yet significant differences. Compare the healing of Peter's mother-in-law in Mark 1 .'31 ("he came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her"), in Luke 4:39 ("he stood over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her"), and in Matthew 8:15 ("he touched her hand, and the fever left her, and she got up"). Might these considerations guide our responses to the repetitiousness of elderly people who have debilities of memory or concentration? Each encounter with another person, even though seemingly routine, is a new arid original encounter. Both parties are changed by the passing of time--by the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual experiences of the intervening time--even if only minutely. Health has improved or declined; the weather has turned warmer or cooler; clothes are brighter or more uniform; the staff has been updated or has had a turnover; the family has been reunited or suffered a loss; a sacrament has been received or a prayer prayed. "No need to recall the past. I am doing a new thing" (Is 43:18-19). Could Yahweh God be doing this new thing daily? God indeed adds yeast to the dough of the soul, lets it work, and gives it the kneading it requires: prayer and contemplation, opportunities for good works and self-sacrifice, active or passive Perhaps the most mutually soothing response to unceasing repetitions is a silent laying on of hands, a gentle and loving touch. I67 March-April 2002 Novy ¯ Coping witb Repetition suffering, or simply love's perpetually re-creating thoughts and deeds and words. Does it take yeoman patience to hear the same questions, the same comments, the same concerns day in and day out, hour by hour, and even minute by minute? Of course, those who minister have to work on themselves, cultivating a reliable equanimity and ideally a blend of knowing tolerance and psychological and spiritual understanding: Thank heaven she can still respond., what a grace that we can still interact., how humbling that he takes his own debility in stride., bow merciful that she is unaware., what a gift.t that I can encounter the very Christ in the simplicity and vulnerability of this person. Perhaps the most mutually soothing response to unceasing repetitions is a silent laying on of hands, a gentle and loving touch. Only by taking the tensions and strains of working with the sick-elderly to prayer again and again will ministers discover each person as an "imago Christi, a living analogue of the crucified Christ. As they do this, the ministers themselves will be molded into other Christs. They may find themselves praying the antiphons and psalms of the Liturgy of the Hours in the persona of Christ in the sick-elderly: "For you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water." In the purview of faith, while the soul of the minister is being tuned to a new pitch, the souls of those they minister to become new songs. The Spirit sings through the adaptive constancy of the one and the dulling repetitions of the others, harmonizing both in the mystery of Divine Providence's unfathomable workings. G.K. Chesterton suggested that we should not take for granted the rising of the sun. Such a glorious phenomenon may well depend on the childlike delight of God calling for an encore: "Do it again, Sun!" Ultimately, deepening spirituality will not only expect the unexpected; it will expect the familiar, the recurring, the repetitious. It will perceive even the annoyance of repetition as a melodic refrain within the grand orchestration ¯ of God. Review for Religious JOAN WAGNER Medaille's "Means" and Religious Life's Renewal At our last meeting, in June 1998, I attempted to show that the primitive documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph indicate that apostolic endeavors have deep mystical foundations. In the present paper I examine other aspects of these primitive documents, aspects that pertain especially to the communal life of small communities that undertake apostolic ministry. Because this article focuses on the spiritual and apostolic insights of Father Jean-Pierre Medaille SJ, it is intended especially for those who walk in his tradition, but also for all professed religious who seek the deepening of their community life and their apostolic action. I will focus on six "means" derived from Father Medaille's writings, but first I draw your attention to two Scripture passages that were of major importance for Medaille: Have this mind among yourselves, which was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself taking the form of a p rspecliv s Joan Wagner ssJ presented this paper in Milwaukee in June 2001 at the fifth triennial meeting of the Conference on the History of Women Religious. Her address is Little Design Community; 171 Schiller Street; Buffalo, New York 14206. March-April 2002 Wagner * Medaille's "Means" servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Ph 2:5-11) That they may all be one; even as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that thou hast sent me. The glory which thou hast given me I have given to them that they may be one even as we are. one, I in them and thou in me, that they may become per-fectly one, so that the world may know that thou hast sent me and hast loved them even as thou hast loved me. (Jn 17:21-23) I think that adopting Father Medaille's "means" could help contemporary religious to practice the emptying spoken of in Philippians and thereby achieve the unions spoken of in John's Gospel. After discussing these "means," I will offer some concrete proposals for living them. The new community to which I belong, the community of the Little Design, is attempting to establish its communal life on "the means of Medaille." Clarifying the Scope of Medaille's "Means" The six "means" that I will be discussing cannot be found at any one location within the Primitive Documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph. In fact, nowhere in Medaille's writings did he use the term "means" as I use it in this article. It is a concept that was first formed in the latter decades of the 20th century, that is, three hundred years after Medaille, by a commentator on the Primitive Documents, Sister Julie Harkins of the Boston Sisters of St. Joseph. I first encountered Sister Julie's work when I attended a charism retreat that she gave in Wichita, Kansas. In her presentation she referred to "six central means found in the lived experience of our first sisters to maintain unity among themselves and to be apostolic communities of love." Even as I Review for Religious taped her presentation at that conference, I felt that her ideas and concepts about Medaille's approach were truly a treasure. It seemed to me that Medaille had applied St. Ignatius Loyola's Rules for Discernment in a new way, using at the communal level the retreat pedagogy of reflection on experience. He adapted those rules to unlettered and diverse groups of women, to assist them in becoming apostolic communities of love. Other interpreters of the Primitive Documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph such as Sister Vacher and Sister de Vaublanc have analyzed the practices that Medaille proposed for the early sisters. Not all of these commentators would agree that the six "means" identified by Sister Julie Harkins capture the heart of Medaille's approach. Other phrasings and other lists of "means" have been proposed. It has also been suggested that Medaille's approach can be represented by one expansive "means," the sisters' sharing their hearts unreservedly. To shed additional light on whether I-Iarldns's six "means" adequately represent Medaille's approach, I suggest that we consider how difficult it would be to distill the central practices recommended by St. Paul. We know that Paul wrote extensively about the living of the Christian life. (His writings are far more extensive than Medaille's even if we consider all the Maxims and other Primitive Documents to be authentically his.) How then to express the central "means" of St. Paul? One commentator might comb through his writings and identify six "means" as central. Another might determine that there are actually four or eight or one. Obviously there is much room for disagreement. Keep in mind, then, that there are various ways of presenting the essence of Medaille's approach even as I now list Harkins's six "means." I advocate them as the basis of the community life of religious women, today--but always understanding their meaning within the Gospels' call to discipleship. Please note, too, that in Harldns's list there are two dimensions in Means 2 (and perhaps in Means 3 as well). And there is some overlapping among the various "means" since the boundaries among them are not tightly drawn. Finally, note that Means 6 is phrased in such a broad, all-encompassing way that it seems to subsume the preceding five "means." Here, then, is Sister Julie Harkins's list of Medaille's "means": 171 March-April 2002 _Wag~, er ¯ Medaille's "Means" 1. Sharing experiences and feelings in prayer and doing so with candor and simplicity (Reglements, p. 9 par. 6). 2. Sharing the state of the house (outer as well as inner) and sharing the next step to which ofie is called (Reglements, p. 8 par. 4; Primitive Constitutions, p. 16 par. 1; p. 21 par. 4, 5, 6; p. 39 par. 6; p. 51 par. 8). 3. Sharing the dangers (evils) that threaten community life; protesting (promising) to safeguard what will safeguard the common union (Primitive Constitutions, pp. 58-66; Protestations, pp. 67-68). 4. Sharing what is our city and dividing the city among ourselves to discover the evils and to work for their healing (Primitive Constiitutions, p. i1 par. 6; p. 29 par. 9; p. 30 par. 1-3; p. 31 par. 1-2). 5. Sharing with each other how through works of service they are building the kingdom of love among the dear neighbors and the members of the community (Reglements, p. 8 par. 4; Primitive Constitutions, p. 17 par. 2). 6. Fidelity to the core spirituality: being grouped in honor of the Father, Son, and Spirit; Jesus, Mary, and Joseph (Maxims of Perfection, pp. 21-22; Reglements, pp. 4-5; Primitive Constitutions, pp. 12 and 57). Putting Medaille's "Means" into Practice You can see that the first three "means" listed pertain to spiritual bonding within the community; they deal primarily with discernment of spirits as a way of life. The next two "means" pertain to discerning the apostolic and prophetic stance to which the community may be called; these "means" address discernment as a decision-making process. Finally, the sixth "means" stands above the others and informs all of them inasmuch as it focuses upon the mystical relationships that are at the heart of the calling that Medaille identified for the Sisters of St. Joseph. I am keenly excited about having our Little Design community underway. This small community employs Medaille's own term, and it represents the fulfillment of a dream for refoundation that I have had for forty years. (Be it known, however, that at least one other person has called this dream my Review for Religious obsession.) As I write, this house is only three months old and at present has only two members. We have good hopes of attracting other young women who are interested in a life that is based on these six "means" of becoming an apostolic community of love. Let us now consider Medaille's first "means": sharing experiences and feelings in prayer and doing so with candor and simplicity. I will first try to explain why I feel that this is important, and then I will offer some recommendations about how to practice such sharing. The mystery of faith revealed to us in Scripture, particularly in Paul and John, is that all of history is now sacred history. This is the impact of the incarnation on our daily life (note--in Philippians 2:6-11, one of the passages cited above--the relevance of Paul's theology). All of our ordinary daily life is filled with God drawing our human consciousness to God's Self. God desires for us an ever-growing love and participation in the life of Jesus. This goes on in each moment of our human experience, and it registers as a thought, a tendency, a mood, a feeling. (Father George Aschenbrenner SJ has emphasized this approach in his conferences.) It is one thing to believe this. It is another to be deeply aware of it. It is a third step to be keenly sensitive to it. Our response is toward a greater share in living out Jesus' mission (note here the relevance of the John 17 passage on unity). To share within a community (I envision one of three to five sisters) one's experience in prayer presupposes incarnational theology and could move the community from believing to the final stage of responding. Submission to the group mandate for the purpose of growth enables believing, awareness, and sensitivity to develop. And movements of grace obviously become more explicit when inner awareness moves to vocal articulation. Sharing one's prayer experience with candor and simplicity is a demanding endeavor. An emptying is required, but I believe it leads to a new depth of communal unity if it is done in faith, All of our ordinary daily life is f!lled with God drawing our human consciousness to God's Self. --!73 Mt~.rcb-dpril 2002 Wagner ¯ Medaille's "Means" trust, and love. This depth is the mystery of God made more manifest in and among ourselves. We become more conscious of the call to respond and to be accountable. How would this be implemented? A possible scenario would be a biweekly gathering at which community members would relate movements of consolation and desolation during their prayer of the previous few days. Journaling after prayer periods would help members to be more responsibly prepared for the group gathering. Those who have had an Ignatian directed retreat will easily identify with this process. At present our small community enters into Morning Praise with a psalm, quiet time to reflect, and then the citing of a word, phrase, or line that was "given." The Gospel for the day is then read aloud. This is followed by a brief period of quiet and a brief time of communal sharing. All of this is done within half an hour and prepares us for deeper listening at liturgy. The content of our prayer in the future may vary, but the communal sharing is integral. Medaille's second "means" has three aspects: sharing the state of the house (outer as well as inner) and sharing the next step to which one is called. "The state of the house" has two meanings: first, the practical details of the community's living quarters. For harmonious living, responsibility and accountability are expected from every member. Such matters as cleaning, shopping for food, preparing meals, paying bills, scheduling prayer, hospitality, and times for silence are basic elements in a well-ordered "house." Honesty prevailing, the community will be aware of members' overextension or ill health, of things needing repair, and so forth. With solutions to be found, the quality presence of each member is important. The ebb and flow of external harmony is guaranteed by this practical sharing. The other "house" is the inner one, the heart. Teresa of Avila in her Way of Perfection notes that in praying it is essential to recognize and own how one is as one stands before the Beloved: weak, grateful, sinful, needy. This ownership of my incarnate self relates me to the incarnate Jesus. In truth, to articulate that inner state demands honesty, probes causes, and elicits understanding. What a sacred gift to offer my sisters: an emptying for the purpose of union,t My creaturely limitation stands naked before the Christ I trust, and before the Body of Review for Religious Christ in my sisters. Transformation in Christ occurs when I share in Jesus' life--in his being child of God and sharer in created human nature. The next aspect of the second "means," sharing the next step to which one is called, flows out of the group's increasing sensitivity. Articulation of deeper desires was a requirement for Jesuit novices, and this may have influenced Medaille to recommend this sharing to the first sisters. Great desires for God need to be fostered into action or they die. One's next step may be small and subtle or grand and significant. It could be to create a dream, to change a pattern of behavior, to attend to one's health, or to begin a new relationship. Such matters require careful handling with regard to the members' personal and communal mission. They begin in the human heart. It was the sharing that Teresa of Avila had with John of the Cross that enabled them to take the next steps for the refoundation of the Carmelite order. It was the vision that Ignatius shared with Francis Xavier that led to his bringing the faith to south and east Asia. Incarnational theology points out that our deepest desires are God-given. The word God gives us is to be spoken and enfleshed. The emptying required in taking next steps in our lives is attested to in the lives of men and women who accomplished much for God. A Saturday morning once a month could be set aside to ensure Medaille's second "means." Although the focus would vary, all aspects of this "means" would be attended to within this leisurely time together. Community members could take turns facilitating a simple process that might begin with listening to a member describe a project that she feels called to initiate. The listening could be followed b~ quiet reflection, questions, and dialogue. In this way one member's hopeful desire would be gracefully fostered and nurtured or deemed unsuitable or temporarily tabled for deeper discerning. At present our Little Design community gathers in the community room on Saturday mornings for about an hour and a Incarnational theology points out that our deepest desires are God-given. March-April 2002 H~ner * Medaille'~ "Means" half, a time we consider sacred. Because we are a new community, we do this every Saturday unless some special event interferes. We realize, too, that it is easy to spend too much time on the "outer" house, and so we strive to ensure the more interior and bonding elements of this second "means." Medaille's third "means" is sharing the dangers (evils) that threaten community life, protesting (promising) to safeguard what will safeguard the common union. One might ask wh

Issue 60.1 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; Renewal Vocation Spiritual Legacy Empowerment JANUARY FEBRUARY 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 1 Review for Religious'helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness' ' ° by making available to them the spiritual legacies tbat flow-from the cbarisms of Catbolic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ° V~reb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2001 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. MI copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. view for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizfibeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adriafi Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bish6p Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Patricia Wittberg SC JANUARY FEBRUARY 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 1 contents 6 renewal Beyond Jubilee and Jubilees A. Paul Dominic SJ relates the biblical notion of jubilee to the teaching of Jesus and the practice of the early church in order to point to ways that we might live the spirit of jubilee in our Christian life today. 20 A Continuing Pentecost: Appreciating "Ecclesia in Asia'~ James H. Kroeger MM shares the optimism and gratitude that pervade the apostolic exhortation Ecclesia in Asia as he summarizes and evaluates its various chapters. 30 40 vocation Who Is a Brother? Philip Armstrong CSC traces the church reality of brothers through history to the present-day challenges. Vocational Being Donald Macdonald SMM stresses that, if we Christians need to adore the gift of God in Christ from the core of our being, then Scripture provides the practical means to make our own this perspective of faith. 2j Review for Religious 48 spiritual legacy Spirituality for Mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys and the Ignatian Tradition Mary Ann Foley CND traces the originality of the missionary spirituality of Marguerite Bourgeoys, drawing upon a varity of sources including the Ignatian tradition. 62 The 350th Anniversary of the Sisters of St. Joseph Joan L. Roccasalvo CSJ gives evidence that Ignatius Loyola's Spiritual Exercises are the inspiration and source of Jean-Pierre Mddaille's Maxims of Perfection, which contain the entire spirit of the foundational documents of the Sisters of St. Joseph. 76 empowerment Till the End of My Days Agnes Cunningham SSCM identifies five factors that have proved helpful in her actively pursuing retirement. 80 Power Made Perfect in Weakness: Ministering to the Dying and Bereaved Laurel M. O'Neal offers a correction to our common misconceptions of death, its relation to sin, and especially the relation of God to death. departments 4 Prisms 99 Canonical Counsel: Conclusion of the Novitiate 105 Book Reviews January-February 2001 prisms Review for Religious cele-brates its sixtieth year of publication. Sixty years is not the milestone of the younger fifty or the more dra-matic one hundred. Of course, it is not in the same league as a millennium. But a sixty-year anniversary does present the occasion for a pause--a time for assess-ment, for evaluation, for celebration, for gratitude. We have so many of these "pauses" built into our ordinary life that we can forget how important their place is for the healthy living of life, including the spir-itual. The changing seasons of the year, with their cycles of growth and dormancy, present one rhythmic pattern observed in religious practices of people through the centuries. As we quantify the rhythm of a day into our minutes and hours and then measure fur-ther into days of a week and weeks of a month and months of a year, we are struck at how we humanly have built in so many pauses into ordinary living. As a matter of fact, we humans are not meant to be "energ-erizer bunnies" (as in a famous TV ad about a brand of battery) that just keep going and going, always doing more of the same. No, we are people who have waking and sleeping patterns, who enjoy times of work and of recreation, who seek out periods of solitude and of social interaction, who are marked by successes and failures and those many "gray-area" projects whose value remains unclear. We are meant to pause, to be a Review for Religious reflective people, because we are formed by the Bible--that very reflectively written account of God's dealings with his people. We have just been celebrating the biblical jubilee year as a divinely inspired pause. We Christians are a people who appre-ciate the flow of a liturgical year, with its celebratory pauses that bring home in ever new ways the key moments of our faith-life with God. Though there are these many natural and ecclesial pauses in our life, we seem to be unwilling to choose such a rhythm in our personal daily living. Both in our personal life and in our parish or community projects, we often do not take time to set and identify some intermediate goals. We rush on, instead of reflecting on what we have done up to this point, on what changes might be desirable, on how much gratitude we should have and express for all the cooperation we have received, and perhaps on what mistakes we have made and whose feelings we may have bruised. We Christians need to make time to reflect, to assess and celebrate and apologize, as our way of working with God. We need to choose to build this kind of pause into our day (like the Ignatian daily awareness examen) and into the works and projects we are busy on in concert with others. In commu-nity we need to choose to build in these pauses so that commu-nity life and community projects can make wise choices and avoid sad crises. If we choose to make "anniversary-like pauses" ordinary and so build them into our daily life, we will discover a power source that makes for a physically, psychologically, and spiritually healthy life. We have had our new year's celebration, pausing to ring out the millennium year of 2000 and to welcome the year of 2001. As we enter into this new year, perhaps we all need to look for timely occasions when we .can pause--to celebrate, to assess, to correct, to revitalize for the continuing effort. By such choices, we grow into being the reflective Christians God's word calls us to be. We meet God, in his gift of time to us, by pausing to appreciate it and use it well. David L. Fleming SJ Janualsv-February 2001 renewa A. PAUL DOMINIC Beyond Jubilee and Jubilees The celebration of any jubilee is necessarily public. It cannot be thought of except in social terms. Even in per-sonal jubilees, which are different from institutional jubilees, individual jubilarians do not make their jubilee a private affair; they invite their relations and friends to a celebration. In so doing almost all follow the unwrit-ten bourgeois rule of making their celebration an exclu-sive affair of their particular class and so upholding the social scale. When such segregated festivities are arranged by the rich (and not the poor, who anyway have nothing to celebrate because they have nothing to cele-brate with), they hurt even the rich, not just some other people, because they bring the burden of keeping up with the Joneses. The same thing happens, mutatis mutandis, in institutions and nations, with subtle but real harm to humanity. This is not a modern phenomenon but an old, unfortunate human one. Jesus saw it rampant among his people and ~ought to save them from bringing harm in this way to themselves and others. And so he did not think it unbecoming to tell his host during the meal to imagine another pattern of invitations, one that would break the tradition of inviting select persons or rich ones A. Paul Dominic SJ writes again from Satyodayam; 12-5-33 S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. Review for Religious or relatives and instead invite particularly the poor and the hand-icapped (Lk 14:12-14). When he was thus breaking new ground in the matter of celebration, was he not inspired by the good news of jubilee that he had learned as a Jew from the Hebrew Scriptures in the bosom of his Hebrew family? Going Back to the Source of Jubilee The very word jubilee is biblical, with a specific religious con-notation of joy. Though it has come into secular parlance, all those who celebrate "jubilees," personal or institutional, would do well to be aware of the term's centuries-old wealth of meaning. The joy that is now associated with jubilees in the secular or religious worlds looks back on achievements of excellence, but the jubilee joy in biblical times looked forward to achievements still to come; also, it involved the whole of Hebrew society, without excluding any class. While all celebrated the jubilee, both the haves and the have-nots, they participated in it differently. The former were behind the whole celebration, promoting it, while the latter benefited from it. The promoters were concerned with building a promising future, not so much for themselves as for others, who unlike them had had a harrowing past of financial reverses. Who on earth could have had this joyful interest in others rather than themselves except God and God's faithful people? Hearing the cry of people who, perhaps even through their own fault, had lost their ancestral holdings and consequently their own rights of freedom and dignity, God would have the losers gain back their lost land and their very persons. As all land and all peo-ple belonged primarily to God, God would ordain a time of grace once every fifty years, when good, law-abiding persons would come forward and voluntarily restore to the unfortunates whatever the latter had lost to them even by way of fair deals. The very idea of people responding to God's call to selfless joy on behalf of the deprived will be effective only to the extent that it is appreciated for its inspire~t and sensible holiness. People will be most joyful in their jubilee only when they thoroughly accept that it is a holy thing for them and declare so (Lv 25:10 and 12). The biblical jubilee is all joy only when it is all holy. It is first and foremost holy and, as such, it cannot but be joyful. It is the holi-ness of the God of joy that makes for the joy of all his people, who are to be holy like him. January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond yubilee and Jublilees This causal link of holiness to joy in the celebration of jubilees cannot be emphasized too much. The joyous celebra-tion of jubilee enjoined in Leviticus 25:8-17 and 23-55 forms part of the Law of Holiness in Leviticus 17-27. The dynamics of jubilee should be understood in the light of the most important piece in the Law of Holiness: "You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy" (Lv 19:2b). How is this orthodoxy of holiness to become, the orthopraxis of joy? This is a highly practical question even though there remains the theoretical question of how it is possible that our human nature can share in the nature of God, namely, holiness. Leviticus and the rest of the Bible have no use for such questions, but hand down in God's name ways of living that are pleasing to the very God of holiness and joy. With the stunning command to human beings to be holy, there came from God clear directions about how they were to deal with one another. He wanted his people to associate with each other in ways that included practi-cal concern for the poor and the weak and the handicapped so that they would not feel left out: When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest. You shall not strip your vineyard bare, or gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the alien: I am the Lord your God. (Lv 19:9-10, emphasis added) This was a practical minimum test of the maximum law he enjoined on them of cultivating a loving disposition towards one another, abjuring grudges and hate (Lv 19:18-19). If people had lived in this original spirit of divinely ordained love, shown in personal dealings and shaped in concrete societal action, there would have been no urgency for such an institution as the jubilee. From the beginning, people did not abide by, but slid from, this ideal. To stem this slide and to set a minimum for the people to reach, God brought about the program of the sabbatical year (Lv 25:2-7). Its enactment, going back to the wake of the Exodus reads thus: For six years you shall sow your land and gather in its yield; but the seventh year you shall let it rest and lie fallow, so that the poor of your people may eat . (Ex 23:10-11, emphasis added) . Though no definite information is found in the Bible's his- Review for Religious torical books about how and how long the sabbatical law was observed,~ there is no denying that it was (see Ne 10:32 and 1 M 6:49-53), though not always (see 2 Ch 36:21). And that is why one may dare say--in this field there are as many opinions as scholars-- that the law was further developed to include remission of debts in favor of the poor and, what is more, to be generous to them. Aiming at abolishing poverty, the new law unambiguously said: If there is among you anyone in need . . do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbor. You should rather open your hand, willingly lending enough to meet the need, whatever it may be. Be careful that you do not entertain a mean thought, thinking, "The seventh year, the year of remission, is near," and therefore view your needy neighbor with hostility and give nothing . Give liberally and be ungrudging when you do so. (Dt 15:7-10, emphasis added) Who could better this law? For all its beauty (if law can be said to be beautiful), who would want this kind of beauty for them-selves? Who would observe this beautiful law? Indeed, there may be people now who would question its very place in a legal corpus. Though this was presumably not the case then, still, given human nature, it would not be surprising if it was practiced in its violation rather than observance. For this reason, and with a view to getting people to observe the high ideal of the law, it was drastically changed with regard to the time of its enforcement. The new law, unlike the old, would come into force not every seven years as before, but every fifty years, heralding what came to be known as the jubilee year, called so after the instrument used for the announcement, namely, yobe! (Hebrew for trumpet). Though the sabbatical law was thus made less burdensome (one would not have had to observe it more than once in one's lifetime, given the biblical lifespan of eighty even for the. strong), still the jubilee law retained the essential burden of the previous laws, namely, reversing the trend of the rich becoming richer and the poor poorer. Its complete formulation specified four things. (1) People must allow all land to lie fallow, must live on what it pro-duces by itself and has been stored, and must share with others. (2) In selling and buying, the rich should not cheat and oppress the poor, taking advantage of their plight. (3) Those who have grown richer by buying other~' properties should freely restore them to their former owners. (4) Those who own Israelites as slaves January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond g~ubilee and j~ublilees (because in their poverty they sold themselves) have to honorably release them and their families. Was the mitigated law observed? While some scholars say that it does not seem it was ever observed,z others opine cautiously that the possibility of its having been observed in the beginning of the settlement in the Holy Land cannot be ruled OUt.3 Relying on the two applications of the jubilee law to specific situations (Lv 27:16-25 and Nm 36:1-12), we may presume that there indeed was a time when the law was in force and not a dead letter. Also, ¯ from the fact that the Greek Alexander and the Roman Julius Caesar exempted their Jewish domain of Judaea from the annual tribute during the sabbatical year,4 may we not infer that the jubilee directives were at that time not out of vogue in the life of the peo-ple? It would be interesting, then, to know how they could have been carried out generation after generation. But unfortunately no historical observance of the jubilee was recorded in either the Old Testament or the New. Anyway, from the kind of juridical Judaism found in the New Testament, we have no compelling rea-son to believe that the jubilee still prevailed in practice, leaving us to wonder what ever happened to Judaism that God founded as a contrast communitys with its liberative laws, such as jubilee. Retrieving the Jubilee after Jesus Where does this le~d us? An answer may spring up from sens-ing how Jesus responded to the moribund custom of jubilee in his time. Though the word jubilee does not occur in the Gospels, the way he looked at some issues may point to his thinking on jubilee. He was surely positive in his attitude to the Law, and so we hear the puzzling logion: "Do not think that I have come to abol-ish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to ful-fill" (Mt 5:17). In so taking his stand, he was calling for right obedience to the Law: hearing the voice of God in the word of the Law, understanding God's genuine purpose, and acting on it. If he often invited attacks by those who were on the side of reli-gion, it was to challenge them to read the L~w aright according to the mind of the Lawgiver. He pointed out, too, that in the course of history the Law was sometimes mitigated or even distorted, as in the case of divorce, because of human hardness of heart. In order to accomplish the Law, he would advocate first and fore-most a return to its origin in the heart of God and a discernment Revie~v for Religious of its true relevance for the day, guided by the signs of the times, the ongoing surprise revelations of God's ways. Inspired by such a vision of the Law, Jesus would have insisted that jubilees were not occasions to be observed merely twice in a century, whether by omission or halfheartedly or even whole-heartedly. In this spirit he would have spoken searchingly: "If it was said of old that in the jubilee year you should return to the owner the land he had sold to you in his penury, I ask you, 'Why buy at all in the first place from a needy person?' Again, if it was said of old that you should not, during the jubilee, claim your money lent to the poor, I ask you, 'Why lend at all to the poor with a view to getting it back? Rather, give to anyone who asks you and, if anyone wants to borrow, do not turn away.' Again, if it was said of old that in the jubilee year you should free your slaves, I ask you, 'How dare you .ever buy out your brothers or sisters and enslave them even if they sold themselves to you in their dire need? For you are all slaves of God, and among yourselves you are brothers and sisters.'" Further, he would have told any challengers to search the Scriptures and realize how God had freed their forebears from slavery and settled them in a new land, a land that was not theirs but his, so that they might know the holy joy of living together in rich fellowship and surrounded by the blessings of Providence. Finally, in Ezekiel's fashion (Ezk 20:4-24), he would even have made them face their Roman subjugation and answer whether it was not due to their forsaking the jubilee of God and ceasing to be truly subject to the God of jubilee. It would have been with such silent thoughts that he went beyond the old jubilee and initiated a new era, calling it the year of the Lord's favor (Lk 4:19) and heralding the longed-for liberty, fulfilling Ezekiel's prophecy6 and climaxing John's preaching.7 God's own aspiration was ever to create a people witnessing to his blessing. Going Forth in the Spirit of Jubilee In picking up such possible thoughts of Jesus, what is our own jubilee aspiration and how are we to realize it? We do so by becom-ing the community of God's people and striving to do away with poverty. God's own aspi.ration was ever to create a people wit- January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond Jubilee and Jublilees nessing to his blessing. When Jesus came on the scene, he pro-claimed that constant purpose of God. When he announced God's kingdom emerging in the world, he heralded equivalendy the com-munity of God's people. Further, in imitation of his Father, he was re-creating it visibly out of the remnant that was left of the old community.8 The new community, though very much in the world, was not of it. It was fashioned to be an alternative society in the spirit of jubilee. It had its own charter, promising and promoting the fulfillment of individuals and groups in society and thus the whole society (Mt 5:3-10). Its foremost beneficiaries were the poor of all sorts, that is, those who had been all along without name, voice, or standing, like children and women, the ritually and socially outcast, and, of course, the economically awkward. Though made up of different classes, the new community would not have the distinction and segregation of the high and the low; rather, the so-called high would serve the so-called low. If such terms as highest and lowest were to be used at all, then the highest in the community would be those who, bending over for the sake of others, made themsel+es little and served them-- even washing their feet. Their insignia would not be the tradi-tional one of selfish power, privilege, and possession, but the downward mobility of service and healthy promotion of others, avoiding all competition. Their royal rule would be: "In every-thing do to others as you would have thdm do to you" (Mt 7:12). Perhaps the one incident in which almost all the above distinctive qualities of the new community came into play was Jesus' feeding the multitude and satisfying them all with the little supply of bread and fish made available by a little boy. Living in this spirit of permanent jubilee, apart from which there is no jubilee worth talking about, we dare dream of becom-ing a contrast .community of Christians, renovating the structures of the age-old world in many details and so creating places where individual and social well-being can exist. Jubilee Praxis at the Start of the First Millennium How on earth can this become part of the realm of reality? Though we may find ourselves overwhelmed by forces against true community, did Jesus not envisage such a community of the future right at the start of his ministry when he declared that the era of universal liberation was beginning there and then with him- Review for Religious self (Lk 4:21)? Did he not confirm it as he went about forming one flock On 10:16)? And, at the very end, was he not intent on drawing all to himself and forming one community (Jn 12:32)? Did he fail in all that? The pristine community of the church witnessed that he certainly did not. Indeed, it acquired early an identity of its own, distinguishing it from the surrounding com-munity and marking its way of living together. Their identity was not so much their theoretical acceptance of the gospel, but prac-tical allegiance to it with consequences in social behavior. Luke named it koinonia, meaning fellowship or communion, which "con-notes the bond of responsibility to one another enjoined on believ-ers by their assent to the gospel."9 His firsthand report of this unique phenomenon reads thus: All who believed were together and had all things in com-mon; they would sell their possessions and goods and dis-tribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of the people. (Ac 2:44-47) Perhaps to emphasize the veracity of his report, he drew another such picture: Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common . There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apos-tles' feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need. (Ac 4:32-35, emphasis added) The kernel of koinonia was thus communism in its best sense, namely, the community of goods which expressed, proved, and strengthened the community of spirit.1° The trial of koinonia even brought about the institution of diaconia or service (Ac 6:1-6) to oversee the practicalities of koinonia. Nothing like it had happened before in the Mosaic period, but it did not come out of the blue. It had its clear precedents as the law~ of the sabbatical and jubilee year show. The sharing of the rich with the poor envisaged by such laws did not merely look to the temporary or intermittent allevia-tion of the hardship of the.poor. Rather, it aimed at the divine ideal of annihilating poverty altogether according to the hopeful com-mand: "There shall be no poor among you" (Dt 15:4).~ January-February 2001 Dominic ¯ Beyond j-~ubilee and 3~ublilees Inspired by Jesus, the early church learned well, translating the above command into action and initiating jubilee living. The later church, as far as the 3rd century or so, followed suit in such a striking manner that the historian Pliny thought of Christians as tertia gens, a third group of people besides Romans and barbarians. Still the ideal had to be nurtured from the beginning against natural human hesitations, weaknesses, and failures. So Paul bade the Corinthians regarding help for the famine-stricken commu-nity in Jerusalem: Strive for equality; at present give from your abundance what they are short of, and some day they will repay in abundance what you lack. Then you will be equal and what Scripture says shall come true: "To him who had much, nothing was in excess; to him who had little, nothing was lacking." (2 Co 8:13-15, Christian Community Bible) The equality of everyone in the community, whether rich or poor, will remain no more than an illusion as long as .economic inequality remains. That is a warning implicitly given by James, when he confronted Christian assemblies with their old unequal dealings with the rich and poor: For, if a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say "Have a seat here, please" while to the one who is poor you say "Stand there" or "Sit at my feet," have you not made distinctions among yourselves? (Jm 2:2-4) On the contrary, where the rich willingly forgo some of their riches in order to raise the condition of the poor, there is equal joy for both; and so James could say, "Let the believer who is lowly boast in being raised up, and the rich in being brought low" (Jm 1:9-10). Jubilee Praxis as the Third Millennium Starts With such precedents, are we going to achieve community of equals? Yes, if we enter upon unambiguous, if taxing, praxis. The first practice would seem to be self-awareness of our "chronic" failure in shaping human communities. If even now we let the societal laws considered above provoke not offense (pace Paul, Rm 3:20) but repentance, convicting us of our share of humanity's sin in this matter, we would be on the right track. Review for Religious Part of this initial practice is to realize how we, like the rest of humanity, have cultivated the pleasing or even cozy practice of good intention rather than a.ction, of fine words rather than deeds. James had reason to ask bluntly: If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food and one of you says to them "Go in peace, keep warm and eat your fill," and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? (]m 2:15-16) Is this challenge any less relevant now for the church community, and in particular the talking (even if not pontificating) theological fraternity, despite two millennia of Christianity? This is, however, no time for despair, but a time for immediate, earnest, and con-sistent praxis based on the twin nature of human beings as spiri-tual and economic. The second practice could well be conscientization for both the rich and the poor. The former may not even realize what being poor actually means. I, for one, was surprised to hear a city dweller say not very long ago that he missed Sunday Mass because he had no clean clothes to wear. Situations like this must be brought to the notice 6f the well-dressed community at Sunday Mass, among whom might be found some, like a Chicago priest I heard about, for whom a shirt worn once is too soiled to be worn again on the same day. In a school run by a group of sisters, a poor child went to class in slippers instead of shoes; for punishment her teacher, a former nun, made her wear them round her neck with her belt. Such unbe-lievable things occur and need to be made known, through chan-nels such as pastoral councils, to the rest of the community. For their part, the poor must be transformed by becoming conscious of what they deserve but are denied by society, includ-ing the church. St. Vincent de Paul Societies may serve this crit-ical cause, first learning themselves and then teaching poor people their rights enshrined in Canon Law. What a revelation to hear: There are canons that can be said to promote the ~velfare of the poor and speak fibout the defense of their rights. There are canons that promote the participation of the poor in church life, facilitate their access to the sacraments, uphold the right to receive help from the temporal goods of the church, require norms on legal aid for the poor, and so forth?~ If such conscientization is to become reality, much depends on a third practice, ecclesial leadership, which at least in India rests Dominic ¯ Beyond Jubilee and Jublilees largely with the bishops and then the clergy. Who is to tell them what their praxis should or could be? That, though, is what the Servant Leadership school in Washington, D.C., has dared, train-ing leaders in community living that is intimately associated with the life of the poor.13 It is heartening to hear of a bold Indian bishop who would not oblige his priests' clamor for his support of projects for the poor unless they committed themselves to conscientiously spend-ing for the target group all the money received. Not many, how-ever, are like him, intent on being levelers, mindful of benefiting the poor wholly and so bringing all people to a level of equality. So we hear stories of bishop~ who are not loath to receive a purse on the occasion of their jubilees celebrations, in clear violation of the spirit of the biblical jubilee. Vv'hat are we to think when a bishop, to please his family, tries to dissuade a young man from becoming a brother to serve the poor and even offers to make him a priest in his diocese? Does he have a ghost of an idea, let alone a chance, to build a true community where the poor will find their due, equal place of honor and feel blessed? Would that the unworthy bishops acted on the proposal, made by themselves or their confreres at the Synod of Bishops on Justice, to "under-take an examination of the modes of acting and of the posses-sions and lifestyle found within the church itself'U4--even though they seem not to take seriously the anticlerical strictures of Christ himself. Whatever the praxis of the leadership may be, the rest of the community may aid it indirectly by their own related praxis. And this may express itself in at least three ways. The first one is com-ing to know the likes of the locally famous Indian Jesuit Bishop Saupin (who, reportedly, would, in the style of the populace, travel in a rickshaw, clad in kurta and pajamas and smoking his beedi) or the globally famous Archbishop Romero. The second is pray-ing conscientiously and hopefully, while mentioning the ordinary's name at Mass, for the metanoia and metamorphosis of bishops so that they may know the importance of serving their community ¯ (which itself exists for serving one another in charity) by witness-ing to the incompatibility of chronic poverty with the visible king-dom of God. And the third (which is difficult but must be done) is humbly calling ecclesiastical high-ups to account, even against their resistance, in forums such as the parish and diocesan coun-cils enjoined by Vatican Council II. Review for Religious The fourth practice concerns the religious who have their own sphere of leadership for good and bad. While those in the limelight engage righdy or wrongly in discussion on the religious life of the future, there are a small number, like the Little Sisters and Brothers of Jesus, whose life itself is mostly.their practice of naturally and not optionally'5 accompanying the poor by their.presence among them in their living place, by their solidarity with them in the workplace, by their adoption of the lifestyle of their poor peers, and by their hospitality to the poor and rich which makes both groups feel equal and at ease. In the economy of communion practiced b~" Focolare members, they economize for the purpose of sharing and, of course, socializing with those expe-riencing poverty, misery, and humiliation. Their way has attracted the attention even of gov-ernments. A year ago, for example, a Brazilian parlia-mentary commission made an official visit to their cen-ter in order to learn prac-tices that could help solve poverty problems in their country. Hearing the expe-riences of the Focolare entrepreneurs, they marveled at the con-crete achievements of the economy of communion, achievements that seemed impossible in the current economic context. One of them said: "The economy of communion is an already proven and revolu-tionary alternative. It is a new concept of economy, a new con-cept of wealth."16 The two groups mentioned above do not have any "apostolate" whatever as other congrggations understand the term. While other groups may benefit from the innovative experience of the these two groups, still, to develop their own praxis of involving them-selves in the lives of the poor, there would be no better way than going back to their original sources.~7 For, as a~le, religious con-gregation have always been founded with real bonds with the poor. Another thing that may help various religious congregations is the zealous search for ways to adapt present missions "for the ben- In the economy of communion practiced by Focolare members, they economize for the purpose of sha~ing and, of course, socializing with those experiencing poverty,, misery, and humiliation. January-February 2001 Dominic * " Beyond J'ubilee and Jublilees efit of the poor and for a more just and fraternal world."~s A sure test of this will be making sure that, whatever work they begin, it benefits the poor most, as was surprisingly advocated by Gandhi to the members of his congress party striving for India's freedom. Another thing that may promote right praxis among them is to go back, in the spirit of what Paul and James advocate (1 Co 2:26 and Jm 2:5), to their own personal origins and find how poor indeed they were. For one may wager that most of us hail from families that are middle class, but commonly are lower than mid-dle class or indeed poor, even very poor, not unlike the apostles. There is no better way of concluding all this than what Jesus said to his disciples so poignandy at the Last Supper: "If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them!" (Jn 13:17). Notes t See Rui de Menezes, "The Biblical Jubilee Year," Vidyajyoti Journal 61 (1997): 653. [See also Robert G. North, Biblical Jubilee, after Fifty Years (Rome: Editrice Pontificio Biblico, 2000), a revised edition of his Sociology of the Biblical Jubilee, 1954.--ED.] 2 See The New Jerusalem Bible (NyB) (New York: Doubleday, 1985), note Lv 25a, p. 167. 3 See The New Jerome Biblical Commentary (N'JBC), ed. R.E. Brown et al. (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1991), n. 4:53, p. 78. 4 See Rui de Menezes, "Biblical Jubilee," p. 667, for the reference in Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible. s See T. Malipurathu, "Contrast Community: Its Meaning and Relevance for our Times," Vidyajyoti Journal 62 (1.998): 606-623, esp. 610-613. 6 It is striking that Ezk 46:7 uses the expression the Year of Liberty to refer to the Year of Jubilee. 7 See the relevant notes on Lk 3:3-14 in Christian Community Bible (Quezon City: Claretian Publications, 1990), p. 123. s See the note Mt 16g in NJB, p.1637, and the note on Ac 2:46 in NyBC, n. 44:28, pp. 734-735. 9 NyBC, n. 44:28, p. 734. ,0 See note Ac 2ffin NyB, p. 1803. n For the translation in the style of the Decalogue, see Rui de Menezes, "Biblical Jubilee," p. 654. 12 Jeyaseelan, "The Poor and the Priest in the Code of Canon Law, I," Vidyajyoti Journal 63 (1999): 924. ~3 See Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1989), p. xii. Review for Religious 14 AS in Jeyaseelan, "The Poor and the Priest," p. 930. t5 Fausto Gomez suggests that the preferential option for the poor is not simply optional but obligatory. See Jeyaseelan, "The Poor and the Priest," p. 927. 16 Mariapolis (Focolare newsletter), December 1999, p. 14. ~7 See, for example, Decrees of the Thirty-Fourth General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (Anand: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1995, and St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1995), §288. ,s Decrees, §289. The Sun The sun rose At 7:02 a.m.', standard time, the paper told me. The changing silhouettes of peaked boxes transformed into houses sided in pale pink and grays and browns proved it. But no explosion of color ¯ announced the moment, no silent fireworks to wake the sky. Only the quiet finger of God'~ tracing day-gold across the horizon. Suzanne Mayer IHM January-Februaly 2001 JAMES H. KROEGER A Continuing Pentecost: Appreciating "Ecclesia in Asia" "T he church in Asia sings the praises of the 'God of salvation' (Ps 68:20).-" These opening words set the tone of Ecclesia in Asia (hereafter EA), the postsynodal apostolic exhortation promulgated in November 1999: Clearly, themes of gratitude, celebration, and optimism characterize this document. The church sings God's praises for "choosing to initiate his saving plan on Asian soil," for sending "his only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ the Savior, who took flesh as an Asian!" The church sees the "marvel of God's plan in Asia" and exults "in the goodness of the continent's peoples, cultures, and religious vitality" (§1). Pope John Paul II signed the document during his Asian pastoral visit to India (5-8.November 1999). The issuance of EA was the concluding moment of the special assembly for Asia of the Synod of Bishops, popularly known as the Asian Synod. This four-year project of church reflection and renewal began with the publicafon of the Lineamenta (1996), continued with discussion on the Instrumentum Laboris (1998), reached its apex with the month-long synod sessions in Rome (19 April-14 May 1998), and culminated with the proclamation of the postsynodal Ecclesia in Asia James H. Kroeger MM, a Maryknoll Missioner who has served in Asia since 1970 (Philippines and Bangladesh), is currently professor of systematic theology, missiology, and Islamics at Loyola School of Theology in Manila. His article was first published in Landas 13, no. 3 (journal of Loyola School of Theology). His address is Marvknoll; P.O. Box 285, Greenhills Post Office; Metro Manila, Philippine~ 1502. Review for Religqous (6 November 1999). Yes, "Asia-Church" rejoices and unceasingly proclaims God's enduring love! The Asian Synod was a multifaceted event on many levels. As EA notes, "it was indeed a moment of special grace" (§3). It was also "a celebratory remembering of the Asian roots of Christianity" (§4). The synod event became "an ardent affirmation of faith in Jesus Christ the Savior" (§4), and, as the local churches of Asia gathered in Rome, "the synod fathers sought to discern the principal areas of mission for the church in Asia as she crosses the threshold of the new millennium" (§ 18). The synod's theme was much debated and carefully chosen: "Jesus Christ the Savior and his mission of love and service in A~ia: 'That they may have Life and have it abundantly' On 10:10)." AS the pope writes, this particular formulation of the theme was to "illustrate and explain more fully that Christ is the one mediator between God and man and the sole redeemer of the world, to be clearly distinguished from the founders of other great religions" (§2). The theme manifests the chu[ch's faith in Jesus and his mission; he is Savior who serves and bestows abundant life; he is to be.joyfi4.11y proclaimed in Asia. Ecclesia in Asia, a rich, lengthy document, now becomes an important signpost of evangelization for the local churches in Asia in the new millennium. An analysis of EA reveals three major sections or underlying thematics: (I) Asian realities relevant to the church and her mission of evangelization (§§5-9); (2) theological-doctrinal aspects of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit (§§10-23); (3) The church's mission of love and service in Asia (§§24-49). The main body of EA is framed by an introduction which captures the highlights of the synod process (§§1-4) and a conclusion that expyesse~, the pope's gratitude and encouragement along with a final prayer to Mary, "Mother of Asia" (§§50-51).The entire document is focused on "seeking to discern the Spirit's word to the churches in Asia" (§51). Asian Context Ecclesia in Asia devotes its chapter 1 to the concrete situation of .contemporary ~sia--her r.eligious, cultural, economic, social, political, and historical realities (§§5-9). This inductive approach, characteristic ~)f current Asian theological reflection, mirrors the method and experience of the Federation of Asian Bishops' January-February 2001 Kroeger . A Continuing Pentecost Conferences (FABC). The Asian church accepts that "a critical awareness of the diverse and complex realities of Asia is essential if the people of God on the continent are to respond to God's will for them in the new evangelization" (§5). As EA notes, "Asia is the earth's largest continent and is home to nearly two-thirds of the world's population"; its various peoples are "heirs to ancient cultures, religions, and traditions." One is amazed "at the sheer size of Asia's population and at the intricate mosaic of its many cultures, languages, beliefs, and traditions." Asia is "the cradle of the world's major religions" and "the birthplace of many other spiritual traditions" (§6). Economically, socially, and politically, "situations on the Asian continent are very diverse, defying any simple classification" (§7). EA highlights various concrete pastoral concerns: rapid change, migration, nuclear power, tourism, population growth, poverty, women, and a host of additional challenges. In this complex situation the church's one ambition is to continue Christ's mission of service and love (see §50). Her approach is that of mutual exchange and enrichment; thus, EA confirms "the importance of dialogue as a characteristic mode of the church's life in Asia" (§3). Mother Teresa of Calcutta is proposed as "an icon of the service to life which the church is offering in Asia" because of "her loving and selfless care of the poorest of the poor" (§7). This "chosen" continent of Asia, with all its immensity, diversity, and complexity, holds special meaning for the church. God's only-begotten Son "took flesh as an Asian" (§I); "Behold, the Savior of the world is born to us, born in Asia" (§2). Yes, Asia is unique as "the birthplace of Jesus and of the church" (§5). This church thanks God "for choosing Asia as the earthly dwelling place of his incarnate Son" (§50; see §§2, 9, 20). This unique gift implies a task; the church commits her energies to making Jesus, his gospel of life, and his community the church truly "at home" (inculturated) in Asia and her peoples (§§9, 20). Theological Foundations Three chapters of.EA, focusing on Jesus and the Spirit, describe a type of doctrinal orientation to the church's Asian mission. Yet the manner of presentation is decidedly pastoral; it blends theologies "from below" and "from above." It reads easily, the flow is smooth, and inclusive language is partially employed. Some insights even Review for Religious " enjoy poetic expression: "Contemplating Jesus in his human nature, the peoples of Asia find their deepest questions answered, their hopes fulfilled, their dignity uplifted, and their despair conquered" (§14). The thematic of girl is frequently found in these "theological" chapters. Jesus the Savior is a gift to Asia; this faith-gift is to be both appropriated and proclaimed. "The church's faith in Jesus is a gift received and a gift to be shared; it is the greatest gift which the church can offer to Asia" (§10). "Only if the people of God recognize the gift that is theirs ~n Christ will they be able to communicate that gift to others through proclamation and dialogue" (§31; see §20). The church in Asia must ask itself a probing question: How do we "share with our Asian brothers and sisters what we treasure as the gift containing all gifts, namely, the Good News of Jesus Christ" (§19)? Proclaiming the Christian faith-gift meets unique challenges, particularly in the "multiethnic, multireligious and multicultural situation of Asia" (§21). Asia has its indigenous religions, soteriologies, and savior figures (see §§14, 19, 20). This reality demands a humble, dialogical stance on the part of the church; "proclamation is prompted not by sectarian impulse nor the spirit of proselytism nor any sense of superiority" (§20; see §§4, 31, 46). And yet this genuine respect and reverence for the church's dialogue partners "does not eliminate the need for the explicit proclamation of the gospel in its fullness" (§20; see §31). By her very identity the church is "a community aflame with missionary zeal to make Jesus known, loved, and followed" (§ 19). Affirming the relevance of Jesus for Asia (§§1, 9, 10, 18, 50) demands a particular approach to proclamation. The church "needs to follow a pedagogy which will introduce people step by step to the full appreciation of the mystery." She should employ "narrative methods akin to Asian cultural forms" and follow "an evocative pedagogy, using stories, parables, and symbols so characteristic of Asian methodology in teaching." In a word, the church must "evangelize in a way that appeals to the sensibilities of Asian peoples" (§20). Engaging Asian peoples, their cultures, and their religions (FABC's triple dialogue) demands genuine commitment to inculturation (§§20-23) and interreligious dialogue (§§29-31). Asia is unique as "the birthplace of Jesus and of the church." January-February 2001 Kroeger * ,4 Continuing Pentecost EA asserts that Christology is necessarily integrated with pneumatology as well as Trinitarian faith. It is the "uniqueness of Christ which gives him an absolute and universal significance" (§14); one cannot "separate the activity of the Holy Spirit from that of Jesus the Savior" (§.16). The Holy Spirit, "the prime agent of evangelization" (§17), is "an absolutely vital part of the mystery of Jesus and the salvation which he brings" (§15). Jesus and his Spirit are only adequately comprehended within,the "Trinity's plan of salvation" (§15); there are no two parallel economies of salvation. There are real, complex missiological questions, and the Asian Synod and Ecclesia in Asia attempted to face them. A Missionary Community The longest section of F~ (§§24-49) focuses on the church and her mission in the vast Asian continent. Four discernible themes emerge: church as communion for mission (§§24-28), dialogue (§§29-31), human promotion (§§32-41), and agents of evangelization (§§42-49). EA presents a vision as well as concrete approaches for mission; these emerge from a particular faith stance: "The question is not whether the church has something essential to say to the men and women of our time, but how she can say it clearly and convincingly" (§29). EA recognizes "the pressing need of the local churches in Asia to present the mystery of Christ to their peoples according to their cultural patterns and ways of thinking" (§20). "Communion ecclesiology" finds strong expression in EA. The church is a "privileged place of encounter" between God and people; her first purpose is "to be the sacrament of the inner union of the human person with God." She is also "the sacrament of the unity of the human race." This means that "communion and mission are inseparably connected [and] they interpenetrate and mutually imply each other." Communion is "both the source and fruit of mission." In short, "communion give~ rise to mission and mission is accomplished in communion" (§24). The church in Asia promotes internal communion and participation on many levels: with the successor of Peter, among various sister local churches, dioceses, basic ecclesial communities ("a positive feature Of the church's evangelizing.activity"), renewal movements, the Catholic Eastern churches,, and other. Christian churches (see §§25~2:7). Internal communion emanates outward Review for Religious ¯ toward other groups throughout Asia: the variety of peoples, cultures, and religions with whom the church shares life (§25), churches and peoples in mainland China, North Korea, and the ex- Soviet territories of Asia (§28). Regional and continental associations of bishops that foster communion (for example, FABC) are recognized and praised (§26), but their profound insights are never directly quoted. ¯ .An inherent demand of "communion ecclesiology" is dialogue. This "desire for dialogue . . . is not simply a strategy for peaceful coexistence among peoples; it is an essential part of the church's mission, ¯ . . a veritable vocation for the church" (§29). A particularly helpful section is devoted to interreligious dialogue (§31), seen as % part of the church's evangelizing mission, an expression of the mission adgentes." The advent of the new millennium offers the church "a great opportunity for interreligious dialogue and for meetings with the leaders of the great world religions." Following the lead of Nostra aerate, "the Magna Carta of interreligious dialogue for our times," the church in Asia is called to a double fidelity: to affirm her "belief that the fullness of salvation comes from Christ alone" and to gladly acknowledge "whatever is true and holy in the religious traditions of Buddhism, Hinduism, and Islam as a reflection of that Truth which enlightens all people." Interreligious dialogu~ seeks "mutual advancement [and] the elimination of prejudice, intolerance, and misunderstandings" (§31). Dialogue demands will only increase with passing years. Persons must be formed to have "a mature and convinced Christian faith" that qualifies them "to engage in genuine interreligious dialogue." They need to be "deeply immersed in the mystery of Christ [and] happy in their faith community." The call to dialogue requires the church in Asia "to provide suitable models of interreligious dialogue." In the dialogue endeavor it is imperative "to revitalize prayer and contemplation" and to give witness to "the great Christian traditions of asceticism and mysticism" (§31). The advent of the new millennium offers the church "a great opportunity for interreligious dialogue and for meetings with the leaders of the great world religions." January-Febr~ary 2001 Kroeger ¯ A Continuing Pentecost Chapter 6 treats human promotion and church social teaching. S~iving to build a "civilization of love," the church views all human development not only as a "technical or economic question; it is fundamentally a human and moral question" (§32). An integral, holistic approach to evangelization is employed, encompassing the areas of human dignity (§33), preferential love for the poor (§34), healthcare (§36), education (§37), peacemaking (§38), globalization (§39), foreign debt (§40), and the environment (§41). In these diverse fields the church resists "the culture of death" in accord with her vision of"the gospel of life" (§35). Agents of Evangelization Chapter 7, titled "Witnesses to the Gospel," focuses on the church's missionary identity in Asia. The church strives to be a credible witness because "people today put more trust in witnesses than in teachers, in experience than in teaching, and in life and action than in theories"; in the Asian context "people are more persuaded by holiness of life than by intellectual argument" (§42). EA asserts that it is "a genuinely religious person [who] readily wins respect and a following in Asia" (§23). Gospel witness in Asia needs holy men and women who themselves are "on fire with the love of Christ and burning with zeal to make him known more widely, loved more deeply, and followed more closely." Why? "A fire can only be lit by something that is itself on fire"; Christian witnessing demands "a true missionary spirituality of prayer and contemplation" (§23). Asian peoples, especially the youth, manifest this "deep thirst for spiritual values" (§6). In a word, living Christian mission in Asia incorporates and, in fact, demands "contemplative action and active contemplation" (§23). EA addresses a v.ariety of gospel witnesses: pastors (§43), religious and missionaries (§44), theologians (§22), laypers6ns (§45), families (§46), young people (§47), and those whose apostolate is social communications, "the areopagus of the modern age" (§48). Striking insights are often presented: "People in Asia need to see the clergy not just as charity workers and institutional administrators, but as men whose minds and hearts are set on the deep things of the Spirit" (§43). "The synod fathers were most concerned that the church should be a participatory church in which no one feels excluded, and they judged the wider Review for Religious participation of women in the life and mission of the church in Asia to be an especially pressing need" (§45). The pope encourages and thanks missionaries (§§20, 42, 44, 50), urging "the church in Asia to send forth missionaries, even though she herself needs laborers in the vineyard" (§44). Mission is to be central to each local church; local "missionary societies of apostolic life, characterized by their special commitment to the mission ad genres, ad exteros, and ad vitam" are strongly encouraged (§44). EA calls upon "the great host of Asian martyrs, old and new,. ¯. to teach the church in Asia what it means to bear witness." (§49). Additional Emphases The Asian Synod surfaced crucial questions facing local churches in Asia; EA reflects several of these pastoral and missionary concerns. The question of Jesus' Asianness surfaces in various discussions¯ "Jesus is often perceived as foreign to Asia. It is paradoxical that most Asians tend to regard Jesus--born on Asian soil--as a Western rather than an Asian figure" (§20). "It is indeed a mystery why the Savior of the world, born in Asia, has until now remained largely unknown to the people of the continent" (§2). To address and overcome this reality, the church must open herself to "new and surprising ways in which the face of Jesus might be presented in Asia" (§20). How can Jesus be effectively proclaimed-- bearing an "Asian face"? The subject of religious freedom arises because in various places in Asia "Christians are not allowed to practice their faith freely" (§8); "explicit proclamation is forbidden, and religious freedom is denied or systematically restricted" (§23). Christians are forced "to live their faith in the midst of restrictions or even the total denial of freedom" (§28). Governments are enjoined to "guarantee religious freedom for all their citizens" (§28), assure "immunity from coercion" (§23) in religious matters, and recognize "the right to freedom of conscience and religion and the other basic human rights" (§34). Analysis and comparison between the content of EA and the decades of pastoral reflection by Asian bishops (FABC) reveals many similarities. 'Since 1974, in its document "Evangelization in Modern-Day Asia," the FABC has promoted the local church's triple dialogue with Asia's peoples, cultures, and religions; this vision is January-Februat.~ 2001 Kroeger * A Continuing Pentecost Inculturation received much attention during the synod. repeatedly found in F~ (see §§1, 15, 18,.20, 21, 24). Again, the FABC pastoral priorities enunciated over the years, particularly the focus on the family, women and the girl-child, youth, ecology, and the displaced (see FABC VI:lS) are also highlighted by ~ (§~34, 37, 41, 46, 47). FABC itself is mentioned (§§2, 3, 26, 31), though none of its fine work is directly quoted or even noted in the copious endnotes. The theme of inculturation received much attention during the synod, and certain particular areas were identified as requiring concentrated focus: "theological reflection, liturgy, the formation of priests and religious, eatechesis, and spirituality" (§21). Central to inculturating the faith is the biblical word, the message of salvation, the sacred text; Sacred Scripture is proposed as ."the basis for all missionary proclamation, catechesis, preaching, and styles of spirituality" (§22). One may inquire about criteria for authentic inculturation; ,EA notes: "The test of true inculturation is whether people become more committed to their Christian faith because they perceive it more clearly with the eyes of their own culture" (§22). The Christian virtue of compassion repeatedly surfaces in Ed (for example, §§11, 12, 14, 20, 45, 51). The apostolic exhortation is correct in expressing the church's mission.in terms of this appealing focus. Presenting Jesus as "the compassionate friend of the poor" (§20) will find a resonance and reception among Asians. In the ' church's mission of love and service, women evangelizers contribute greatly "to bringing the compassionate Jesus, the healer and reconciler, to Asian people, especially the poor and marginalized" (§45). Jesus, the God-man, was "close to the poor, the forgotten, and the lowly"; "he wept for a dead friend [and] welcomed children"; "divine compassion had never been so immediately accessible" (§11). As the church in Asia enters the new millennium, she faces some demanding challenges. EA highlights some importfint apostolates: women (§§7, 34, 45), you.th (§§6, 47.), nuclear power (§§7, 38), peace~naking and reconciliation (§38), globalization (§39), foreign debt (§40), and the environment (§41). The authenticity of the church's "mission of service and love" (§50) will indeed be Review for Religious tested; will it produce "a great harvest of faith . in this vast and vital continent" (§1) of Asia? Gratitude and Optimism Ecclesia in Asia concludes as it began on a clear note of optimism and gratitude. "Blessed be God for the peoples of Asia, so rich in their diversity yet one in their yearning for peace and fullness of life" (§50). With committed faith, "the church in Asia joyfully makes her pilgrim way into the third millennium" (§50). "Mary, model of all disciples and I~right star of evangelization, . . . look tenderly upon the church of your Son planted on Asian soil. ¯ O Mary, mother of the New Creation and mother of Asia, pray for us, your children, now and always!" (§51). In this m6od of gratitude and optimism, the local churches of Asia accept the Holy Father's gift: Ecclesia in ~sia. Its contents are a mixture of the old and the new (see Mt 13:52), a summation of Asian.reflection and insights in the Vatican II era, a presentation of the missionoagenda for Asia's faith communities, a program for evangelization iri the new millennium. All in all, EA is a much-appreciated gift. Its treasures need opening in the coming years and decades; its dream for the church--God's holy people--beckons implementation; its theme--abundant life in Jesus the Savior-- requires contemplative action. Yes, Jesus' Asian disciples affirm that the Holy 'Spirit, who moved upon Asia in times past, "moves now among Asian Christians, strengthening the witness of their faith among the peoples, cultures, and religions of the continent" (§ 18). Contemplating God's salvific deeds and wonders during the Easter Vigil liturgy, the universal chh~ch proclaims in the Exsultet: "Rejoice, O Mother Church!" In similar fashion, th~ local churches in Asia' acclaim 'God's marvels in theirmidst; they joyfully affirm the Asian Synod event as a "celebratory remembering of the Asian roots of Christianity" (§4). They pray that the proclarriation and subsequent internalization of Ecclesia in Asia will confirm the church in her servant mission to bring Christ's love and abundant life On 10:10) to Asia and her peoples. Rejoice, O Asia-Church! .~anua~y-February 2001 vocation PHILIP ARMSTRONG Who Is a Brother? I am not sure the title should ask who. Maybe it should ask: What is a brother? People have been trying to frame an unambiguous answer for ages, and in the meantime new applications of the word brother have compounded the issue. My interest is to define, as best I can, that rare creature in the Roman Catholic Church known as a religious brother. What does the ordinary word brother usually mean today? Looking at that may help us comprehend ,similarities and differences of the term as applied to men who, by the vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience, commit themselves to what is commonly called religious life. What Is a Brother? Male siblings of the same parents are called brothers. People's close friends who are male are' sometimes compared to a brother: "He's like a brother to me." Sometimes males call one another brother when they do not know the other's name but feel some affinity toward him. The Great Depression is characterized by one of its slogans, "Brother, can you spare a dime?" In some seminary programs a man is addressed as Philip Armstrong CSC, of the Brothers of Holy Cross, wrote on mission and the vows for our September 2000 issue. His address remains P.O. Box 460; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. Review for Religious Brother, or its Latin form Frater, when he has achieved a certain level of preparation for the ordained priesthood. This use of the term creates confusion over lay/clerical identity. Volunteer organizations may use the term brother in identifying a mentoring relationship between a man and a boy, as in "Big Brothers." African Americans use the term brother to identify males of their race, using the word to indicate the relationship existing by reason of their common African origin and the consequent bonds that solidify them in matters of importance: "One of the brothers sold his house and moved." Some small religious denominations, particularly the more evangelical or those built on sociocultural ties, refer to any male fellow believer as Brother. "Next Sunday Brother Anderson will pass the plate at our service." In the Bible, Jesus uses brother to signify equality among people: "If you are bringing a gift to the altar and remember that your brother has anything against you . " Peter asks, "How often must I forgive my brother?" The terms brother and sister are used generically by church-related personnel in addressing members of the congregation: "My brothers and sisters in Christ." The common thread through all these uses may help us understand, too, why some dedicated men within the Catholic Church are called brothers. There is interpersonal relationship and open trust not based on kinship. The others have the same values, have similar goals, and use the same general methods to achieve their goals. This intangible affinity among brothers (or sisters) does not rely on blood ties yet depends on that relationship to provide a name for this closeness. The substance of such a relationship is: "That man accepts me, confronts me, counsels me, helps me as if I were his own brother." The image of the Good Samaritan comes to mind. Jesus' way of relating with men and women, whether they were righteous or sinful, offers many examples of what it means to be a brother to someone. Simply put, a brother is a man who at all times acts ds a blood brother would act. The Brother in the Church How did the term brother for a vowed religious in the Roman Catholic Church originally surface? Quite likely it arose from relationships in blood families: father, mother, brother, sister. The picture.would include the fact that few were educated as we define education, with those who possessed some "book knowledge" being Janltary-Februaly 2001 Armstron~ ¯ Who Is a Brother? considered natural counselors and mediators. Those representing the people before God and using their knowledge to help them understand and practice their faith could reasonably be called Father, because providing for his family and counseling them are importan~ tasks of the father of a family. Those exercising positions of leadership in communities of vowed women could be called Mother. Those who followed the lead of these fathers or mothers, who assisted; who undertook to fulfill the tasks related to the group's ministries, were called sisters or brothers. Over the years men religious who did not feel called to priesthood, but who assisted clerics in their ministry of preaching, teaching, or sacramental service, were called brothers--like male siblings helping their father do the work of a family farm or business. Help.ers somewhat behind the scenes, they were generally less-educated men doing the more hidden or more mundane and practical tasks connected with the priests' mission of sacred mediation and of education. In time brothers became in people's minds the "hewers of wood and the drawers of water" whose silent and nearly invisible presence was invaluable, essential, though largely taken for granted by the clergy and laity alike. By rule these men remained politically sequestered within their congregations, ha~ing no voice in choosing their leaders and not eligible to become leaders themselves. They prayed much, often apart from their clerical confreres, who in cloister or corridor would pass them by like supportive, exemplary specters. After the social and cultural disruption of the French Revolution, many groups of nonordained but vowed men religious sprang up through the initiative of bishops and parish priests who were in a position to support the development: These apostolic religious were to educate the untutored youth being lost to the church. In contrast to earlier brothers, these men were at least minimally educated and were dedicated to a professional life similar to that of the ordained. For more than a century such groups were formed, and their members went wherever there was a cry for Catholic education, even beyond the borders of their native lands. These became more known to stciety" at large, if not muct~ more visible, by their focus on schools . A concurrent reality that did no favors to many groups of brothers was their unwitting and unplanned gravitation toward ~an identity more clerical than lay. Many brothers, whether as members of laycongregations or as an arm of a clerical community, dressed Review for Religious like clerics and carried out ministries supportive of clerical min-istries. These brothers, nearly indistinguishable from priests, were extended the rights and privileges that a Christian society accorded the priesthood. As a result, a mindset developed among the brothers out of which they identified themselves more with their clerical associate~ than with the laity. It was the laity, though, from a strictly ecclesial perspective, (o whom brothers in fact related more closely. True, they were indeed set apart from the laity by their vowed commitment within a particular congregation approved by Rome. But their external, visible ministries did nothing to project a specific image of brother as distinct from the clerical, patriarchal image they had lived With for so long. "The Terrible Twos" of a Century After World War II and Vatican Council II, both productive of cultural and social upheaval (in a way, the century's "terrible twos"), all vowed religious were challenged to reassess how faithfully their founding purpose and their ministries responded to the newly emerging needs of both church and society and to renew and adapt accordingly. As communities they were to open themselves to the "signs of the times" that hinted at potentially diverging directions in life and mission for vowed religious. Congregations of brothers and mixed congregations (clerics and significant numbers of brothers) found themselves affected by the momentous challenges put before them by the church. Many members departed, fewer young men joined the community, and those who remained grew older, began retiring, and soon were dying unreplaced. These realities were running parallel to the clear and urgent call issued by the Vatican Council to the laity to exert by right a more prominent and active role in the church. Education was one of the first areas affected. As the numbers of brothers declined at a pace impossible to retard, lay people began to fill their places in schools. Along with their declining numbers and increasing age, brothers were suddenly challenged on the level of their profession as teachers and administrators even while they and others were waking to the fact they are not clerics. For brothers the question of the day became: Well, then, who are we, and what is our proper role now in the church and the world? Answers have not come quickly or easily, and some would argue they have not yet come at all. [---3~3-~- January-Februa~. 2001 Armstrong * WlTo Is a Brother? Immense energy has been expended reflecting on, discussing, and determining the identity of the brother for the church today. Some of that energy may have seeped over into trying to determine the brother's role in church and society. In neither case, however, does there appear to be widespread satisfaction with the results, and many retain a confused and hazy notion of the brotherhood as a way of life in the church. It does not help that some of the least informed and articulate on the matter are found among bishops and priests. Worse yet, many brothers cannot adequately define their own identity. The foundations have crumbled on which some based their sense of self-definition. What will it take to pour new and indestructible footings? A Beginning Perhaps a judicious mix of the old and the new is the best place to begin forming a relevant and appropriate definition of a brother in today's church and world. Retaining acknowledged and presumably nonnegotiable hallmarks of the brother's state of life, but blending and refining them in the crucible of postmodern experience, intuition, and prayerful discernment, one might descriptively define a brother somethii~g like this: A brother is a lay religious ¯ committed to living a common life ¯ and consecrated, by public profession of the vows of religion, ¯ to witnessing to the presence of God in his life and in the world. ¯ He reveals his identity more by example than explanation, ¯ more by doing than defining. ¯ In short, he relates and acts like a brother, ¯ to the exclusion of no one.¯ As an equal, ¯ and as supported by like-minded associates in community, ¯ he is free to respond in a variety of practical ways, ¯ living and working fraternally with others ¯ in promoting and preserving human dignity and justice ¯ through his prophetic stance ¯ and professional expertise. The nonnegotiables of this definition consist in identification more with the laity than w~th the clergy;living in community; publicly professing the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; standing as prophetic witnesses to gospel vaiues; and reaching out in service to others. The postmodern experiential components are: more emphasis on a bold and perceptible expression of what being a brother means from the inside; a clear sense of reaching out to others in need as "brothering" them as a blood brother would; serving others out of a conviction of universal human equality under God; openness to the Review for Religious many forms of ministry to which brothers are free to respond by reason of being unrestrained by the ecclesiastical and cultural expectations imposed on ordained ministers; and, within community parameters, rightly seeking and achieving professional expertise in fields of interest and competence. Postmodern? Experiential? Is this more verbal gimmickry, or do these concepts add something substantial to the recipe for today's brother in the church and the world? I believe that both terms are appropriate and relevant. Postmodern is a term used by historians, sociologists, and anthropologists to refer generally to the period following the lengthy modern era that began in the 1500s and ended in the 1960s with the cultural revolution we in the United States tend to associate with events such as the Vietnam war and anti-establishment protests and also with Vatican II and its aftermath. There is no question that the events and the changed moods and understandings of the final four decades of the 20th century have had an immense impact on religious life, some of it distressingly disruptive, some creatively challenging. Experiential surely applies by reason of the mandate of Vatican II's document Perfectae caritatis and the Norms addressed to religious communities asking them to adapt and update their constitutions and rules as necessary, almost literally "refounding" their congregations. Experimentation through changing or discarding certain anomalous or anachronistic disciplinary elements in religious life was to be permitted for a reasonable time, normally eight to twelve years. The religious garb fell under this category, as did the daily schedule, areas and modes of accountability, the exercise of authority, forms and styles of prayer, and so forth. This experimentation was meant to contribute to a newly framed definition of each congregation's giftedness for today's church. Brothers who persevered in the religious life during these years had to respond creatively to the challenges of the day just to remain faithful to themselves as persons, let alone as religious in community. They were challenged to become more observant of evolving needs in the church and society and to search for w. ays to place their congregation's talents and resoui'ces at the disposal of Many brothers cannot adequately define their own identity. January-February 2001 Armstrong * Who Is a Brother? the church. And they, some for the first time, had to go about this discernment out of a conscious acknowledgment that they were definitely not clerics. Still, if the brothers were not clerics, then who were they? Somewhat as the Christian adolescent needs at some point to confront the faith infused through infant baptism, the postmodern religious brother has had to deal with whatever motivated his entering religious life years ago. It has been a true moment of conversion for him, a fresh confirmation of the validity of his choice of a way of life. Without this process a new sense of identity leading to broader availability would have been impossible for him. Most religious have found this exercise challenging and regenerating, reminding them that they had in fact committed themselves first and foremost not to a structure, not to a profession, not to any particular members within the organization, but to God. Whatever permutations were introduced into the externals over the years, the substantial reality has remained immutably in place, and that is enough. But simply defining one's identity is not enough. Unless conviction and a comfortable acceptance of what it means to be a brother are internalized, there is little hope of either acquiring or cultivating the openness necessary for finding new and challenging directions in mission and ministry, for living community, or for attracting others to embrace the same way of life. What Will It Take? Let me personalize this conversion experience even further, because for each individual brother identity is a matter of deep concern. Unless I can perceive myself as a valid, needed, and effective player of a unique role among many roles in the church, I cannot muster and sustain the conviction that will provide the energy I require both to pursue my way of life and to face the exigencies it inevitably entails. As essential as this perception is, it alone cannot support my efforts. Unless the church, both in its hierarchy and in its wider membership, can be convinced that the brothers' way of life is important for the church and the world, I by myself will be able to do little except go about my daily ministry and life in community in the vague hope that the witness I give to the world is somehow being diffused like a healthy mist settling on persons, places, and Review for Religious events near or far. I could not do this alone. I need help from within the church. Yet, if appropriate authority at even the highest levels is struggling to understand the identity and role of the brother in the church today, from what source will the definition come? Who is the "credible authority" that will provide it? The answer is simple: the brother himself. Why not? We brothers may for the most part not be trained theologians or men steeped in the history and development of the church, the sacraments, and ecclesiastical discipline, but we have a lifetime of experience being brothers that should count for something. We have evolved together with our vocational call, responding to challenges along the way that have forced us to question our identity, or purpose, and our reason for remaining brothers. Our prayer life, presumably "alive and active over the years, has kept us in touch with the One to whose call we have responded daily, and the resulting relationship has, we would hope, matured to the point where we can be at ease with our interpretation not only of who we are as brothers, but of how each of us is personally a witness to the reign of God. why should we not define our own identity and offer it to the institutional church as a valid and authentic interpretation, indeed as a gift? We should--and until we do we will continue to mill about, lost, confused, an.d impotent, within vague definitions of prophetic witness and ministerial service in the church. Until we are perceived by others as relevant and competent and are accepted as equal players on the field of evangelization, we will constitute a "loose cannon" threat to the ecclesiastical bureaucracy and receive little support or affirmation, nor will young men be encouraged who may be considering the lay religious life as a desirable option for their own futures. Why should we not define our own identity and offer it to the institutional church as a valid and authentic interpretation, indeed as a gift ? A Corporate Effort Beyond the effort each brother must exert to clari~ for himself what it means today to be a brother and to fashion a revived sense of January-February 2001 Armstrong * Who Is a Brother? mission based on renewed identity, there remains, I suggest, a need for a corporate endeavor among all brothers to invite, support, and help implement a new era, a "second coming," for men in the lay religious life. Even then it is not brothers alone who must feel responsible for resurrecting both awareness of and interest in the brotherhood. In the Vatican, in the hierarchy of bishops, priests, and deacons, and in the lay membership of the church, a fresh attempt must be made to bring about a renewed understanding of the vital role brothers play in the church as an institution and as the community known as the people of God. Because the truly authentic essence of brotherhood in religious life has to be articulated by brothers, it is they who must be the primary educators, as historically they have been in their numbers since the foundation of their congregations. Ready teachers, of course, must encounter willing students or the lesson will go unlearned and unappreciated, leaving the church and the world the poorer for it. And so brothers must seek and gain the confidence of church authority through their expertise in theologizing about and articulating the experiential essence of the lay religious life. This aim can be achieved through two practical steps. First, the theological reflection, even if informally undertaken, must unfold in a deliberate and orderly manner. Second, a path must be opened, a clear and smooth thoroughfare of effective communication between brothers and the rest of the church. To accomplish .this, good public relations will be required, for brothers have such a history of invisibility and silence that any change, if it attracts attention at all, will tend to create or exacerbate confusion in people, if not suspicion. Brothers must learn how to harness modern communication technologies and get assistance from the media, because the teachers will be implementing the most important lesson plan they have ever devised. Meanwhile. Meanwhile, brothers must continue preparing for their vocational parousia through personal effort at educating themselves to the point of absolute confidence and conviction. Nothing less will succeed in reeducating the church, let alone the world, as to the gift the lay religious life for men is now and can be to the whole of humankind. Out of what definition ought brothers to operate in the Review for Religion, s meantime? I suggest, once again, that the italic passage above on page 34 constitutes a solid working definition, one that incorporates both nonnegotiable expectations of male lay religious and elements that seem essential in a postmodern world. O~r own experience as brothers has confirmed the validity of the definition. Let us at the very least seize its substance and begin the task of refining and developing it. The task is immense and will require every bit of our faith and hope--and our perseverance. Were it not for the One who is author of our faith and our hope and who inspires us to persevere, we would find ourselves in the nearly untenable position of expecting to increase understanding of and enthusiasm for a kind of religious witness and ministry that relates directly to neither the clergy nor the laity. Happily, the God who created the world itself and made life increase and multiply can create new little worlds within it that can grow in understanding and age and grace. It is that possibility in which we place our greatest hope, and it is that God to whom we look for its realization. Postseason Christmas is dismantled again, syncopated lights from shaggy tree transported to basement. It's time to mine the darkness of these shrunken days for fire-feeding coal , and to scan the night skies, each quadrant strung with twinkling lights stretching Christmas hope across the long winter coming. Patricia Schaapp ~M .~anuary-February 2001 DONALD MACDONALD Vocational Being d note about the cleaning and restoration of Sandro Botticelli's Virgin Adoring the Sleeping Christ Child gives an account of the artist, his painting, and its restoration. "[Now we can see] Botticelli's purity of form and color ideally suited to its subject. It is this perfect union of means and meaning that makes the painting so powerful."' To speak of "this perfect union of means and meaning" is superlative praise. In most human endeavor there is a gap between means and. meaning. Achievement hardly ever matches the intention. Brush strokes on canvas, notes from a cello, lines on a page, the lie of a golf ball--rarely do means and meaning synchronize to a person's satisfacfon. Environment and Faith From the perspective of art appreciation, Botticelli is said to have done justice to his subject and himself to an incomparable degree. The power of his painting confirms this, If the union of means and meaning reached such perfection from the artist's view-point, what might be said of his achievement from the perspec-tive of a viewer's faith? What if I, the viewer, adore Christ now in our Lady's company, aware that to paint Christ and the kneeling Virgin does not just capture an abstract ideal, but real people, liv-ing still, to whom I can relate? With dynamic faith I the viewer can be drawn into (not just to) the scene as an integral part of a present Donald Macdonald SMM continues writing about aspects of the reli-gious vocation. His address is Montfort House; Darnley Road; Barrhead, Glasgow; G78 1TA Scodand, U.IC Revie~ for Religious reality. By faith I am at one with the meaning in a way I could never hope to be with just the painter's means. "The purity of form and color ideally suited to its subject" invites and challenges my faith to express itself in reflective ado-ration. The painting directs me to consider what is within me from the viewpoint of faith. The gap between means and meaning is then evident, but so is the inspiration to adore from the center of my being. The beauty of the picture has aesthetic appeal and more, showing what might be if I were fully alert to the wonder of an incarnational faith. I, too, can do what Mary does now, for I am one with her in Christ through baptism. A growing symmetry between means and meaning results in an integrated life. "The beauty of wonder caught in Botticelli's Adoration of the Virgin, reflects what is really there. It may have spectacular appeal to the imagination, but it is not imaginary. Glimpsing this wonder and trying to answer its challenge may suggest consecrated reli-gious life. Do I need to give myself radically, as did Mary, before its wonder compels adoration? Before I adore I must first see and be taken out of myself. This means that I should take note of the environment and any clutter which inhibits insight. Only then can I see what means I have at hand by which I can pursue meaning expressed in adoration. It is neither negative nor defeatist to see in the environment much that is harmful to a life of disciplined faith. The concern for God and neighbor through which authentic faith finds mean-ing lags behind other priorities. Where the current media do not ridicule or dismiss faith, they may actively oppose it whenever they feel threatened by a lived and living faith. There are then no Marquis of Queensberry Rules to govern the fight, and writers, editors, and producers know it. In its many forms--radio, film, TV, internet, print--the media cross continents. Cherished, prac-tical values are often trivialized, and the absence of reticence often coarsens what should be held in great respect. Skillful contempo-rary presentations and inveterate noise may deaden an individual's capacity to respond in wonder to the worldview seen in the Gospels and in Botticelli. Many media movers and shakers "dirty the flower with muddy hands" whenever spiritual or religious values appear on their horizons. A contemporary illustration of this is in a national newspaper correspondent's account of the presentation in London of the Sony Gold Awards for radio broadcasting. "IX] won the music presen- January-February 2001 Macdonald ¯ Vocational Being tation award . By the time he had finished his acceptance speech, he had made half the Great Room of the Grosvenor House long, if not for the grave, then at least for the cool embrace of silence. It wasn't just that he swore. Many people who stepped up that night to receive their awards displayed scan( knowledge of any noun or verb longer than four letters. The effing and blinding was ferocious, the badinage it embellished was desperate . I have sel-dom sat so long and celebrated so little."2 This is not from some drinking den after hours or some adolescent playground, but from a prestigious hotel in a capital city, sponsored by an international company. These are the winners, not the losers, evidendy cocooned in their pei'sonal world, free to pursue their own agendas regard-less of others' feelings. Obviously they succeed, with prizes to prove it. Such behavior coarsens whatever it gets near. The name Jesus Christ in that company is invariably an expletive or a joke. Many feed on that diet and develop a taste for it, and so lack the nour-ishment to grow in Christ. This is a major reason for lack of reli-gious practice generally and for the small number of persons willing to commit themselves to a life of religious consecration. Also, it is something I need to consider if I am to find the means to give myself in adoration through the perspective of faith. How much of this has a claim on me? The evidence of hearing, if I am blessed with it, is that contemporary care to be "politically correct" in speech goes hand in hand with a massive rise in offensive lan-guage, not least among the educated. The coarsening of sensibil-ity by elements of the media makes it harder to find and faithfully use the means to achieve mature meaning as the gospel would have us do. Where no one seems to care, it is no surprise to find that many are careless. I am not made.of stone--how much have I succumbed to this environment? Necessary Means Living in such an environment, I need something practical that can help me maintain a Christian perspective, both encour-aging me and challenging me. IfI have that "something," I have a means for pursuing meaning, the fullness of which, for religious liv-ing, is adoration that engages my whole being. Several practical suggestions could be made, but assimilating Scripture is one that can help, both in judging society and guiding Review for Religious me through it. Scripture, after all, is the accumulated experience of people trying to relate their society to God. More particularly, it was largely the original inspiration behind monastic and reli-gious life. Monastic life began as a statement about contemporary society and the primacy of God. It has been said that God is either 6f sole concern or of no concern. After hearing Scripture speak and then seeing that many contemporary values either opposed or limited the freedom of faith, many persons became aware that they had to cut the cable between themselves and society. Writing of the origin of monastic life in the 4th century, a commentator notes that "what is utterly clear., is the pulsing life the sacred texts give to the daily existence of the early monks. ¯ They serve as a basic frame of reference . In. memorization, rumination, and medita-tion of Scripture, words penetrated the deepest recesses of the soul and created ne~v possibilities and challenges.''3 The Spirit who so energized the word that it came ablaze with meaning and inspiration for those pioneers can do as much for me now if I do some "humble loving listening to him who speaks. It is in fact by the light and with the strength of the word of God that my own vocation can be discovered and understood, loved, and followed and my own mis-sion carried out. So true is this that the person's entire existence finds its unifying and radical meaning in being the terminus of God's word.''4 This is a colossal claim for Scripture, namely, that all strands of life can be brought together, and meaning can be recognized at the depth of my being, if only I am attuned to Scripture. The claim is for ontological meaning in my being's depths. This guar-antees a fusion of means and meaning. Scripture is a superb coun-terweight to much in current society which could keep me from God. As the light of the word slowly dawns, adoration may well be my being's basic response. Perhaps never before in the history of the church has Scripture been available to so many. The means of communication undoubt-edly facilitate this, but this does not mean that, with the media present everywhere, the Christian message is too. In my wide experience of monastic and religious life, home and abroad, for thirty years, I have yet to be convinced that this is so. To what Where no one seems to care, it is no surprise to find that many are careless. .~anuary-February 2001 MacdonhM ¯ Vocational Being 442 degree can we speak of "the pulsing life of the sacred texts" influ-encing consecrated.life generally? How many understand what it is to be "a terminus of the word of God"? I have never forgotten Protestant scholar Frederick C. Grant's comment in 1966 on Dei Verbum, the Vatican Council's Constitution on Divine Revelation: "Why not tell people what joyful discoveries lie before them in the Scriptures, what feasts of learning, what inspiration and encouragement, what sound teach-ing, what help in facing the problems and frustrations of life? As the prophet shouted, 'Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price'" (Is 55:1).s How many individually or collectively "shout" or reflect such enthusi-asm from personal conviction? Here is a superb means to assimi-late meaning, but how many habitually make it their own? Grant's approach may yet be rather new to us. It may take generations before Scripture is sufficiently bedded down among us to produce such results. Scholarship, excellent at the highest level, has perhaps not found a way of enlightening us. Source criticism, form criticism, redaction criticism, reader-response, structural lin-guistics, and so forth make an ever lengthening list; and so people nibble among the commentators and do not get round to assimi-lating the text. In a sad comment on his university studies, a priest spoke of "the acid rain of biblical criticism" and its effect on him vis-a-vis our Lord. If I am hooked already on Scripture and well know what Grant experienced, then current biblical commentaries and journals can help me. Regrettably, though, many of these scholarly materials seem to lack the warmth that could come from a community's fervently.shared faith; they seem not to reflect the wondrous joy that our risen Lord brought to the early church. Has any English writer, for example, during the past twenty years or so, been so fascinated withSt. Paul (man and writer) as to claim failure to do him justice if Paul does not leap from his pages and invade the reader's imagination? This is Richard Holmes's purpose in a superb biography of the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge. He wants Coleridge's voice to be heard and to domi-nate the book. (His own edition of Coleridge's poetry functioned as ~a controlling influence on the biography.) Holmes serves the poet far better than any Christian writer has served--unless I missed it--St. Paul. In the seminary, not uncommonly, Paul is approached as an Review for Religqous intellectual problem, and the student is made to jump hurdles, to no very clear purpose. Scholars give the impression of seeing Paul as a maverick, like an unconventional student the disapproving examiner never knows how to place: "He is here to be examined, and clearly is not quite one of us!" This is a pity. (Bonhoeffer believed, incidentally, that the Sermon on the Mount could never be lived in a university context.) Paul is, of course, larger than any one pen can capture, but, rooted in Christ and in people and in his own evident humanity, his experi-ence is a genuine way of fusing both means and meaning in an authentically consecrated life. No one seeking inspiration in Scripture need read a line of St. Paul. The Law, the Prophets, and the rest of the Old Testament spread a lavish table. In the Synoptics, the sharp observation to be found in a saying of Christ or in a parable can open up much to me, as can pondering the weight of wonder of a phrase of Christ in John's Gospel. One needs only to experience them to feel their power, to bring means and meaning together. Whatever the form of prayer, wonder in the presence of Who is there is the underlying dynamic. Adoration There can be no one way or best way 'of being a religious. There are presumably as many ways to God as there are human beings called to him. But, as I have suggested, if we need to adore the gift of God in Christ from the core of our being, then we have found meaning. Taken out of myself by what I glimpse in faith, I respond in adoration as well as I can with all that is in me. Much in contemporary society obscures this glimpse, but Scripture can be a countervailing practical means to realize meaning. The church and monastic and religious life have for centuries found their deep-est reality through the Gospels. To adore, I need only to see in faith; then, following the rhythm of my breathing, I give myself to God giving himself to me. This is true, whatever the situation or however I feel. I always return to, though actually I never leave, that center. My being is engaged. The insight is increasingly more simple. Whatever the form of prayer (sacramental, liturgical, community, or individual), ~anuary-Februa~. 2001 Macdonald * Vocational Being wonder in the presence of Who is there is the underlying dynamic. Whatever is said, sung, or signed expresses this. Far from making me a maverick on the edge of a group, adoration invites me to be at one with the church in the worship of Christ. If habitual adoration underlies all I do, I can give myself faith-fully to whatever the present moment asks of me, yet not be taken over by it, since my identity does not depend on what I do or where I am. There is always, in faith, another dimension to real-ity not limited to the frame of circumstance. I function at a sim-ple level, trying t6 be at one with God's will, which, of course, is the purpose of monastic or religious life. In attempting this, I approximate the purity of line and color by which the painter real-izes his meaning. Whatever I am engaged in and whoever is with me, insofar as I adore I can recognize the gift of God and who it is speaking to me. Then, as John's Gospel promises, I can tap into a rich stream. On the other hand, pastoral plans, catechetical pro-grams, and personal apostolates are channels that may be awash by turns with limpid idealism or murky disillusion. If I invest in them, my "salvation" depends on,their success or failure; but, if I give myself to them in the light of adoration, I will receive both pru-dence and courage to persevere faithfully far from the criterion of "what's in it for me." Risen Lord I can summarize these reflections, perhaps, with a comment from M.R. Vincent's preface to his Commentary on St. Paul's Letter to the Philippians. More than one hundred years ago he indicated what might be found in a letter written from prison nineteen hun-dred years earlier. His words are relevant today: "While the char-acter of the epistle is ethical . . . it gives no countenance to resolving the gospel into a mere code of morals. The moral inspi-ration which it represents has its impelling center in a person and a life, not in a code. The personal Christ is its very heart. It exhibits Christ in Paul rather than before him. Christ is not a subject of controversy; he is not simply a pattern of conduct. He is the sum of Paul's life. Th~ view of the resurrection which this letter pre-sents is a standing rebuke to the superficial conception and loose grasp which the church too often brings to that truth. The resur-rection of the.Lord is to Paul a present informing energy and not only a recovery anda hope. He would know the power of the res- Review for Religious urrection now and here as well as hereafter. He not only lives according to Christ's life; he lives it I.n. Christ he is in the sphere of infinite possibilities.''6 Here surely is the fusion of means and meaning. As Paul keeps growing, by Christ's life, into Christ, he breaks out of prison in a letter of encouragement, alive with the light of his risen Lord. Not death itself, the ultimate in defeat and separation, can come between him and his risen Lord, who is for him "a present inform-ing energy and not only a recovery and a hope." The stance of adoration is not that of the self-made individual over against the universe, with a supporting cast of witless nobodies lost on the plains below. Life has "its impelling center in a person and a life" and therefore takes meaning from our once crucified and now risen Lord. In Christ I am lost in the wonder of it all, a new creation in view of whom I see and what I am given moment by moment from before time began. Literally, it beggars description. The silence of adoration, as it deepens, is eloquent though inadequate response. Held by the prese~nce of my risen Lord in every situation not excluding death, I too believe that in Christ I am in the sphere of infinite possibilities. He it is who gives meaning to life. Insofar as I allow him to make me his, I live to some purpose and try to express this in what I do. Assimilating Scripture is a superb means toward such maturity. Speechless adoration from the core of my being may become habitual, in view of the wondrousness of the One I am graced to see. I have not the means to ~:eplicate Botticelli's Adoring Virgin and Child on canvas, but from the per-spective of faith I am awash in that same wonder. Notes ~ National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh, 2000. 2 Gillian Reynolds, The Daily Telegraph, London, 9 May 2000. 3 Douglas Burton-Christie, The Word in the Desert: Scripture and the Quest for Holiness in Early Christian Monasticism (Oxford University Press, 1993), pp. 298-299. 4 John Paul II, Pastores dabo ~obis (On the Formation of Priests in the Circumstances of the Present Day), 25 March 1992, §47. s Walter M. Abbott SJ, ed., The Documents of Vatican H (Chapman, 1966), pp. 130-131. 6 M.R. Vincent, Critical and Exegetical CommentaTy on the Ep#tles to the Pbilippians and to Philemon (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1897). January-February 2001 MARY ANNE FOLEY Spirituality for Mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys and ¯the Ignatian Tradition spiritual legacy In the 16th century the Society of Jesus represented an innovation in consecrated life for men, differing in struc-ture and aim from both monastic and mendicant forms and supported by Ignatius's approach to contemplation and action. Ignatian spirituality appealed also to women seeking a life of service outside the cloister, and Jesuit influence is apparent in the formation of women's com-munities as varied as the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the Sisters of St. Joseph in the 17th century and the Religious of the Sacred Heart in the 19th. By contrast, when Marguerite Bourgeoys (1620- 1700) was founding the Congregation de Notre-Dame de Montreal in the latter part of the 17th century, her closest collaborators were not Jesuits; they were Sulpicians, other diocesan priests, and women like Madame de Miramion who were forming similar com'- munities. As a result the congregation is usually seen as a product of the so-called French school of spirituality? Mary Anne Foley CND, who discussed women's commu-nities in our July-August 2000 issue, wrote this article.for the 300th anniversary of the death of Marguerite Bourgeoys. After translation by E Richer, it first appeared as "Spiritualitfi pour la mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys et la tradition ignatienne" in Cahiers de spiritualit~ ignatienne (April-June 2000, pp. 79-91). Her address is University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Review for Religious The congregation's spirituality, however, as seen in the writings of its foundress, reveals considerable affinity with Ignatian spiri-tuality. We shall ~xplore those parallels, but first a word about the congregation's origins is in order. From Marguerite Bourgeoys's perspective, the congregation began in her own experience of transformation at the age of twenty, occasioned by her gazing at a statue of Mary. As a result of this "conversion," as she calls it, she joined a group of laywomen asso-ciated with the cloistered Congregation de Notre-Dame in her native Troyes and chose Antoine Jendret, the local pastor, as her spiritual advisor. From Jendret she learned to see the "vie voyagkre" (missionary life) of the Blessed Virgin as a model for uncloistered religious life for women. At the same time, the congregation sis-ters trained her to teach children who could not attend their monastery school and shared with her their enthusiasm for estab-lishing a monastery in New France. Paul Chomedey de Maisonneuve, brother of the congregation's superior and governor of the new settlement ofVille-Marie (Montreal), recognized the impossibility of establishing a monastery there at that time. Instead, he requested a single lays. oman to serve as teacher, and Marguerite agreed to go in that capacity. When she arrived in 1653, Ville-Marie was a small settlement, precarious both geographically and financially. It had been estab-lished eleven years earlier by an association of pious men and women in France who hoped to incorporate French and native people into a Christian society, thus creating a spirited church in the New World. Among the associates was Jean-Jacques Olier, founder and first superior of the Sulpicians. Unable to go him-self, he sent four members of his society to Ville-Marie in 1657 to establish its first parish. As "filles de paroisse" (women of the parish) Marguerite and the women who would soon join her were thus greatly influenced by the Sulpicians of Ville-Marie. Moreover, from Paris the third superior of the Society, Louis Tronson, was actively involved in decisions concerning the congregation and proved one of their staunchest advocates) In 1659 four recruits came from France to share Marguerite's simple, mobile way of life and her educational commitment in imi-tation of Mary's vie voyag~re. Over the course of the century, more than fifty women--native, French, and native-born French--joined this new Congregation de Notre-Dame, extending its reach from Ville-Marie to Quebec and beyond. Marguerite served as supe- January-Febr~ary 2001 rior until 1693, providing spiritual as well as practical leadership. Among her relatively few extant writings are several prayers and numerous reflections on the nature of the congregation, most of which appear to be conference notes of varying lengths. Brief and fragmentary though these texts are, they provide interesting glimpses of the spirituality that informed the congregation she founded.3 Gathering Up the Drops of Christ's Blood A brief, isolated passage in Marguerite Bourgeoys's writings presents a forceful description of the source, characteristics, and aim of the sisters' missionary activity: Consider, dear, that when you go on mission you go to gather up the drops of the blood of Jesus Christ that are being lost. How happy a sister who is sent on mission will be if she considers that she goes there at God's command and in his company, if she considers that in this work she can and ought to show her gratitude to him from whom she has received all things. Oh, she will find nothing difficult or burdensome at all! She will, on the contrary, wish to be in want of every-thing, to be despised by everyone, to endure all sorts of suffering, and even to die in disgrace. (W'W!B, 78) This passage may well represent the words with which Marguerite Bourgeoys invited the sisters to go forth from the central house in Ville-Marie to missions all over New France. Her description of the congregation's aim as "gathering up the drops of the blood of Jesus Christ that are being lost" is strongly reminiscent of a phrase employed by Paul Le Jeune sJ, superior of the Jesuit mission in Canada. In a letter written to his superior in France in 1633 and later published and widely disseminated, he attempted to persuade wealthy women in France to support the creation of a school for native women in New France: If they applied part [of their income] to gather the drops of blood of the Son of God shed for so many souls that are lost every day for la~k of help, they would not blush with shame on the day they appear before God to render an account of the goods for which he has made them responsible.4 Two years later he renewed the request, exclaiming, "What glory in the sight of the angels, to have gathered the blood of the Son of God to apply it to these poor unbelievers! "s Review for Religious What is particularly striking is that for Le Jeune the "gather-ing" was to be accomplished by women who worked for the edu-cation of other women. Initially he suggested that the school be run by "some good courageous widow assisted by two brave young women."6 By 1635, however, numerous women in French monas-teries, "overcoming the fear natural to their sex," had offered to come to educate native women and girls. This led Le Jeune to alter his original plan and to ask that a French benefactor endow a monastery whose members would carry out the work of educa-tion: "Will not some brave lady be found to give these Amazons of the great God a passport, endow-ing them with a house in which to praise and serve His Divine Majesty in this other world?"7 Madame de la Peltrie responded to that request, and the Ursuline monastery was soon founded in Quebec as a result. Marguerite Bourgeoys's writ-ings never indicate that she read Paul Le Jeune's letters, but, given the sisters' interest in the Canadian missions, she very likely did so during her association with the Congregation de Notre-Dame in Troyes. Thus, his use of the image of gathering Christ's blood probably influenced her directly. Furthermore, although there were no Jesuits in Ville-Marie from 1657 until the end of the century, she may also have been influenced indirecdy by their approach to missionary activity through her continued con-tact with Jesuits in Quebec. Although Marguerite Bourgeoys may consciously or uncon-sciously have adopted Le Jeun~'s metaphor for mission, she mod-ified it in several ways. In the first place, she used the word ramasser, instead of recueillir, with respect to what was to be done with the drops of blood. There is a difference of nuance here. The former term suggests picking up scattered bits and pieces, and the latter suggests taking in a unified quantity (such as a harvest),s This difference in vocabulary may not be particularly significant in itself,9 but another passage from the Writings makes it clear that for her the mission of education did indeed involve gathering up the individual drops of Christ's blood: "When you go on mission you go to gather up the drops of the blood of Jesus Christ that are being lost." January-Febr~ary 2001 Fole~ ¯ Spirituali.ty_for Mission It is work suited to draw down the graces of God if it is done with purity of intention, without distinction between the poor and the rich, between relatives and friends and strangers, between the pretty and the plain, the easy-going and the grumblers, looking upon them all as drops of our Lord's blood. (W'MB, 201) Where Le Jeune had used the imagery of gathering the blood to describe specifically the education of the native women and chil-dren, here it seems to refer to all the individuals taught by the sis-ters. (By the time these lines were written, in the 1590s, they were probably teaching few native children.) If all these individuals are the drops of Christ's blood, they must be treated as sacred objects. Teaching, then, becomes a holy activity, since it brings the sisters in close contact with those sacred objects. Second, Marguerite underlined the urgency of the sisters' mis-sion by the way she extended the metaphor of the drops of blood. Le Jeune remarks that the souls of "these poor unbelievers" for whom Christ's blood has been shed are being lost; Marguerite Bourgeoys suggests that the drops of Christ's blood themselves are being lost. So important is this to her understanding that we may interpret her as going beyond mere metaphor in her reference to the drops of blood. Since the writing of the first Letter to the Corinthians, Christian theologians have often spoken of the bap-tized as constituting the body of Christ in a real, though mystical sense. For Marguerite Bourgeoys, those who needed to learn of Christ's teachings were his blood in that same mystical sense,l° Rather than allow even one drop of that blood to be wasted, a sis-ter would travel anyw.here she was sent and endure whatever was necessary for the mission. Indeed, the act of teaching was both sacred and urgent. A prayer for the congregation written on 4July 1693, at the end of her extended service as the community superior, reveals the con-nection she saw between the sisters' mission and the passion of Christ. Declaring that her trust was not in her own powers, she tells God: "I base my trust on the merits of the precious blood given for my ransom, and with your grace I would rather give up life itself than fail to uphold the truth of your words" (W-M!~, 163). Her willingness to lose her life in order to make Christ's teachings known recalls the desire "to endure all sorts of suffering and even to die in disgrace," which she claimed was characteristic of the sis-ter who traveled on mission in God's company. Her belief that the Review for Religious missionary congregation sisters would desire to suffer in the course of their mission echoes a passage from the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola describing "the most perfect kind of humility" pos-sible for one who has decided to follow Christ: Whenever the praise and glory of the Divine Majesty would be equally served, in order to imitate and be in real-ity more like Christ our Lord, I desire and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches; 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.~ As was true for Ignatius, Marguerite Bourgeoys believed the source of missionary activity for the congregation sister to be a call from the God "from whom she has received all things." Her missionary work is thus a grateful response to God's initiative: "She goes there at God's command." If the sister's mission comes from a divine invitation, then her going will be "in his company." The implication is that going on mission is a way for her to be present to God, a way of participating in God's activity, and hence a way of becoming holy. This is why she should be able to view any deprivation that she suffers in the course of her mission as a pos-itive advantage. "To be in want of everything, to be despised by everyone, to endure all sorts of suffering, and even to die in dis-grace" is to enter more profoundly into the way of Christ, whose mission was characterized by the shedding of his blood. Imitating Mary's Vie Voyag~re While the desire to gather up the drops of Christ's blood pro-vided motivation for the sisters' mission of education, Marguerite turned elsewhere for a way to depict their way of exercising that mission: the life Mary led on earth. The 17th century was remarkable for widespread and intense devotion to Mary, notably among the members of what has been called the French school of spirituality. In order to emphasize the greatness of God's working in her, they tended to focus on Mary's humility, dwelling on both the poverty of her origins and her hum-ble willingness to serve as the future mother of God. Furthermore, their insistence on the paradoxical juxtaposition of the "grandeurs" of Jesus in the midst of his humiliations led Cardinal de B~rulle and January-February 2001 Foley ¯ SpiritnalityforMission For Marguerite Bourgeoys the primary form of devotion to Mary was to honor her vie voyag re, her missionary life. his followers to reflect at length on the life of Jesus in Mary's womb. This is apparent in Olier's prayer "O Jesu vivens in Maria" and in their reflections on the Word's action in Mary's visitafon to Elizabeth. The visitation became central to Marguerite Bourgeoys's spirituality, as shall be seen; she shared as well the French school's emphasis on Mary's "littleness" which enabled her to become the instrument of God's power. While her version of the life of Mary reflects many of the the-ological concerns of her day, some of her contemporaries might have been puzzled by its omissions and even more by its focus. She refers very briefly to what most consider the two central moments in Mary's life, Jesus' nativity and his cru-cifixion. She merely notes that the circumstances of Christ's birth reveal Mary's love of poverty and the poor and that her presence at Calvary reveals her faithfulness, her accep-tance of God's plan of redempfon. In writings no longer available to us, she may have said more, but, given the detail she provides about other events in Mary's life, Marguerite's lack of attention to the nativity and crucifixion is at least suggestive. In contrast to B4rulle, for example, the brevity of her comments and the absence of sentimentality are quite striking. Even more striking is her focus on Mary's activity, rather than her passivity. Certainly she portrays Mary as the recipient of divine favor: God chose her, preserved her from sin, and made her Mother Of God and then Queen of heaven. But Marguerite pays far more attention to what Mary did. She shows her teaching and serving the other girls in the temple and making a vow of virginity. At the time of the annunciation, we see Mary imploring, preparing her-self, consenting, and offering herself to God. After that event she visits Elizabeth, gives birth to Jesus, receives shepherds and kings, and loses and. finds her child. Having witnessed Christ's teachings and keeping them in her heart, she teaches and encourages people during his public life, and afterwards she forms and reforms the members of the Christian community, even after her death, up to the present time. Review for Religious This focus on Mary's activity is in keeping with the advice Marguerite Bourgeoys gave her sisters: "To imitate our dear Foundress, we ought to go through her life and stop at what our Lord inspires us to do" (WMB, 52). In this emphasis she differed somewhat from the French school, for whom devotion took the form of reflecting on the eternal--and internal--"states" of Christ's and Mary's lives in order to enter those states oneself. Thus, even though he considered Mary a model of priestly and apostolic activ-ity, Jean-Jacques Olier still advocated above all a devotion to the "interior life" of Mary. The French school has in this respect been contrasted with Ignatius Loyola, whose Spiritual Exercises involve meditating on the words and particularly the actions of God, Christ, and the saints in order to imitate them.~2 While Marguerite Bourgeoys's random reflections are far different from the highly structured meditations of the Exercises, her focus on Mary's activity is more Ignatian than Berullian. Her approach to the life of Mary, however, was not that of many early-17th-century Jesuit writers, who cul-tivated a highly imaginative form of popular devotion that focused on the details of Mary's life. They were accused, not always unfairly, of promoting an exaggerated devotion to Mary that at times superseded the need for fidelity to the commandments.'3 For Marguerite Bourgeoys and for the congregation sisters, the primary form of devotion to Mary was honoring her vie voyag~re, her missionary life: M. Jendret told me one day that our Lord had left three call-ings for women to follow him and serve the church: that of St. [Mary] Magdalen was taken up by the Carmelites and other recluses and that of Saint Martha, by cloistered reli-gious who serve their neighbor; but the calling to the jour-neying life of the Virgin Mary, which needed to be honored, had not yet been taken up." (WMB, 142) Elsewhere she explains that because Mary was a teacher she incorporated the lives of both Martha and Mary Magdalen into her own: "The blessed Virgin, who was a teacher, included every-thing in her own person to an eminent degree" (WMB, 77). This depiction of Mary's "mixed" active and contemplative life was not original to Jendret,14 but he may have been the first to apply that analogy to women's communities. Nor was it common to speak of her vie voyag?re. Ordinarily the phrase refers to Christians who are still living on earth, as opposed to those who ffanuary-Februa~y 2001 Fole~ ¯ Spirituali~forMission have passed on to glory or purification--and sometimes to the public life of Jesus.~s For many 17th-century spiritual writers, this earthly, transitory, active aspect of Christ's or Mary's life was less inspiring and worthy of attention than their enduring states. By their attention to Mary's vie voyag~re, then, Antoine Jendret and Marguerite Bourgeoys presented an alternative approach to one of the central symbols of holiness in the Christian tradition. That approach had very concrete implications for the little congregation in Ville-Marie. In order to fulfill their educative mis-sion throughout New France, the sisters had to remain free to move wherever there was need. However, because holiness was most often identified with separation from "the world," and because of women's supposed fragility, ecclesiastical legislation during much of Christian history sought to protect consecrated women by insisting that they remain behind cloister walls. Indeed, the two first bishops of New France attempted to impose cloister on the congregation by urging their union with the Ursulines of Quebec. Marguerite Bourgeoys's response was to point to Mary: "The Blessed Virgin was never cloistered. She did indeed retire into an interior solitude, but she never excused herself from any journey on which there was some good to be done or some work of charity to be performed. We wish to follow her in some way" (WMB, 50). Without calling into question the value of life within a clois-ter, this .passage suggests that for Mary, and for those who wish to live her missionary way of life, love of neighbor can constitute a higher value. Clearly Marguerite shared the traditional view that this sort of uncloistered vie voyagkre could be dangerous, but she believed that those who imitated Mary's way of life would be pro-tected by an "interior solitude" and by their union with God in prayer. Dangerous or not, if Mary's work of building up the church by educating its women was to continue, then it was not only pos-sible but necessary for some women to follow her way of life. The Visitation Traditionally the sisters of the congregation renew their vows on the Feast of the Visitation. This suggests that for them Mary's visit to her cousin Elizabeth (Lk 1:39-52) is paradigmatic of their desire to become holy by going forth as missionaries. During the 17th century, however, the visitation was not nec-essarily associated with women who remained free to move out in Review for Religious order to serve their neighbor. In a reflection first published in 1679, the Capuchin Louis-Francois d'Argentan interpreted Mary's going up into the hill country as a reference to her ascent to God through contemplation and her willingness to share in God's redemptive plan. In this presentation, Mary is essentially passive in the encounter with Elizabeth, simply allowing the Word within her to speak in her.voice. D'Argentan suggests that during the visit Mary manifests humility by helping with household tasks, ardent charity (which he does not discuss further), and the way to engage in holy conversation with the neighbor. For him the ulti-mate fruit of reflection on the visitation is making "powerful resolutions to love seclusion, silence, and solitude, scorning all the rest so as to be attentive only to what is necessary, that is to say, to God alone and to the great matter of our eternity.''6 Such an interpretation of the visitation was not foreign to Marguerite Bourgeoys's thought. She too was convinced that Mary loved and was a model of soli-tude- but also was a model of conversation with others--and that the most important aspect of her encounter with Elizabeth was God's action in sanctifying the unborn John the Baptist. Nonetheless, here as always, Marguerite Bourgeoys's attention remained focused on Mary's activity and its effects. Moreover, her interpretation of that activ-ity contrasts with that of d'Argentan and even Francis de Sales, cofou

Issue 59.4 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; )ULY: AUGUST 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 4 to Gbd~s ,univerial call, to holiness by ~n~aking available :to tb~mJtbe~piritual legaHes }bat flow from tbe cbarism~ of Catbolic ~onse~ated life:, Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; ~VVashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2000 Re'biew for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (article~, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ ¯ Patricia Wittberg SC JULY AUGUST 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 4 contents 342 women religious Another Window on the Crisis in Women's Communities Mary Anne Foley CND presents the renewal of women's communities as a work in progress which faces the challenge to move beyond .present viewpoints in order to see a fuller truth. 358 A Path of Humility and Truth: Historical Reminiscence Bernadine Pieper CHM shares her experience of being in leadership at the time of Vatican II changes. 368 finding God Einding God's WiII--A Maneuver W. Henry Kenney Sj describes a process for finding God's will by popping loaded questions to God in prayer and noticing the pattern of desolations or consolations. 379 Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB guides us to the central core of ourselves where we hear the echoes of the voice of Jesus and of all the good people who have been examples of faith and good conduct for us. Review for Religious religious vocations Tell Them, Tell the New Members. Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ proposes the need to share with younger members of congregations hints about what is most central to religious life: the mystery of divine intimacy. 396 Sister Moms: Something Old, Something New Louise Cababe OP reports on the contemporary phenomenon of women, having been married and having raised a family, bringing a new and beautiful experience to religious congregations. 399 Vocational Confidence Donald Macdonald SMM sketches out an environment of vocational confidence whei'e vocations are invited, expected, challenged, and supported. 410 prayer perspectives Praying through Sleep A. Paul Dominic SJ explores various relationships between our sleeping and our praying. 420 Toward a Spirituality of Weariness Michael D. Moga SJ considers some of the paths that lead to spiritual treasures hidden in the areas of our exhaustion and weariness. departments 340 Prisms 430 Canonical Counsel: Exceptions to Duration of the Canonical Novitiate 435 Book Reviews July-August 2000 prisms Te jubilee year we are cele-brating provides us a challenge to our observance of the Sabbath. Sabbath has always been identified with the seventh day--the day of the Lord's rest after the six days' work of creation as depicted in chapter one of.the Book of Genesis. The Christian tradition reidentified the Lord's day with the resurrection victory of Jesus, bringing to fullness the work of redemption. The idea of refraining from work has often received greater attention even though the church has always identified "making holy" the Lord's day--Sunday--by the twofold obligation of celebrating the Eucharist and doing no servile work. Of course, there h~s been a lot of moral casuistry applied to the meaning of servile work, so much, perhaps, that the focus on God slipped because of the overwhelming emphasis on human activity--what was right, what was wrong, how long or how drudging could the work be, and so On. Pe.rhaps this year of jubilee can be a call to us to mov~ beyond the casuistry and to recapture the spirit of the Sabbath. Sabbath means, above all, a chosen awareness of spending time with God. If we are to spend time with God, then we have to take time for ourselves--not just time filled up with more "doing," even .with passive sporting events or active participations in games, but time which we describe so well today in terms of just "being." Sabbath is meant to be a deeply humane time because then God can become more active in us. Sabbath points to the movement of the oft-quoted expression of St. Irenaeus: "God's glory is the human being come fully alive, and seeing God is what human life is." Review for Religqous Eucharist belongs to the Christian Sunday observance because we celebrate God's glory shining out in the victorious risen Jesus, the firstborn of the new creation. But what else for us belongs to our Sabbath observance? What enhances our relationship with God? In other words, how do we devote time to making ourselves more humane--loving, compassionate, wise, generous, available, shar-ing- so that God's glory does shine out now through us? When we truly observe the Sabbath, we are more and more like the sacra-ments of God that our Christian vocation calls us to be. Another viewpoint. In the northern hemisphere, vacation time is upon us. Vacation, being personal rest time, shares in the sabbath notion. We sometimes refer to spiritual retreats as "vacations with God." Retreats, of course, take their focus from considering our relation with God. But would we be acting more Christian if we viewed ordinary vacation time through a prism similar to our Sunday observance? Vacation time does not need to be spent "reli-giously," performing devotional prayers and acts. But would it not be appropriate for us Christians to spend our recuperative and relaxing time with a more spiritual focus? Vacation means a time of "emptying out" (of mental cobwebs and secular preoccupations) and a "leaving space" (for attention to an ever present and loving God) in the ordinariness of our life. "Keep holy the sabbath day," then, should draw our attention not to what is to be avoided, but to what enhances our relationship with God, with ourselves, with our neighbor, and with our world. Those relationships are meant to be observed together, as a whole, when we speak of "keeping holy." Keeping holy deals with all our relationships viewed in the light of God and Jesus Christ. 'When we keep holy, we move with the Spirit. We let ourselves be moved by the Spirit--with all those with whom we converse, in all things we do. Jubilee, sabbath, and our secular vacation all find their mean-ing in the one reality of celebrating God in our life. This millen-nium year is the opportunity to remember thht jubilees, sabbaths, and vacations come to us not by some kind of law or right, but by gift--the gift of God. These time periods remind us to take stock and enjoy the God-with-us now so that we take from these "moments" the realized promise and consolation of our lifetime with God forever. ¯David L. Fleming SJ 37uly-August 2000 women MARY ANNE FOLEY Another Window on the Crisis in Women's Communities religious Last year I spent much of Holy Week working my way through Ann Carey's Sisters in Crisis: The Tragic Unraveling of Women's Religious Communities.l The book's reviews did not make me anxious to read it, but I felt obliged to do so. For some years most of my research has focused on the history of religious communities of women, and my concerns about initiating new members have forced me to confront questions about the future of this way of life. Moreover, having lived through the tumultuous past three decades of change in women's communities, I have wanted and needed to gain some perspective on the experience) Although not planned, the timing of my reading proved to be both appropriate and helpful. I felt pain and anger at seeing the women who were most instru-mental in leading the changes characterized as deliber-ately manipulative, bent on revenge, unfaithful, and heretical, and those who moved with the changes they advocated, as naive, foolish, or incapable of under-standing what was taking place. At another time I might have been inclined simply to dismiss Carey's work, but reading it in the shadow of the cross enabled me to lis- Mary Anne Foley CND, a member of the Congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal, is an associate professor of the-ology at the University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Review fir Religious ten to what was being said under and through the words, and hence to become vulnerable to it. It was somewhat like the expe-rience of reading The Autobiography ofMakolm X. I knew I was not the "white devil" he came to loathe while in prison, but I began to see why he viewed me in that way and then to recognize my own complicity in his hellish situation. Carey's stated intention is simply to document the significant changes that have taken place within Catholic communities of women in the United States over the last forty years. She does so as a journalist, relying not on her own experience but on personal conversations and extensive archival research. The book's subtitle, however, reveals the perspective from which she writes. She is convinced that the changes have been an aberration, leading these groups away from genuine religious life. Carey belieyes that the sis-ters most disaffected as a result of the changes are afraid to speak for themselves, and so shehas chosen to speak for them. While always naming the "change-oriented" sisters she cites, she often identifies her sources among "traditional" sisters only by the name of their congregation or as Sister S., for example) One of these anonymous sources insists that many older religious are experi-encing "a time of martyrdom" as they risk being "cut off, threat-ened, and persecuted" if they challenge the directions their communities have taken (Crisis, 309). Whether or not this sister represents the views of many others, and even whether or not the threat she describes is real, it is important that she be heard, and Carey challenges the reader to listen. According to Sisters in Crisis, the reason for what emerged during the postconciliar years was, first of all, a program of mis-information concerning authentic Vatican Council II teaching, orchestrated prifiaarily by officers of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), known earlier as the Conference of Major Superiors of Women (CMSW). Carey traces the rebellion back to the Sister Formation Movement in the 1950s, which exposed young sisters to the social sciences and "controversial and speculative" theology. The Sisters' Survey of 1966-1967, con-ducted by the CMSW, is presented as playing a key role in "indoc-trinating" sisters about possible new directions for change. The definitive step in the process of "co-opting" and "stealing" the renewal is said to be the "coup" by which the officers of the CMSW altered the nature of their organization by arranging for a revision of its bylaws and changing its name from CMSW to LCWR. At var- July-August 2000 Foley ¯ Another Window on the Crisis ious points in the process, in Carey's view, the Vatican issued clear mandates to return to a more controlled process of renewal, but these leaders refused to obey. Opposing Perspectives Since Lora Quifionez and Mary Daniel Turner were among the leaders of the LCWR during the 1970s and 1980s, it is not sur-prising that their interpretation of the last forty years is diamet-rically the opposite of Carey's. As a result, reading their book, The Transformation of the American Catholic Sister, in conjunction with Sisters in Crisis was both fascinating and unsettling. According to Quifionez and Turner, the changes in women's communities are not the result of a plan devised by a few politically astute activists and then foisted upon an undereducated and unsuspecting mass of sisters. Rather, the transformation of these communities reflects a maturing of American sisters at large; that is, they have grown more conscious of their identity as Americans, as women, and as moral agents? Given this difference in interpretation, it is interesting to note the substantial agreement of these two works on the importance of the Sister Formation movement and especially the LCWR in shap-ing the last forty years of religious life in the United States. Both are clear that the Sisters' Survey went beyond its original purpose of assessing the readiness of American sisters and the availability of resources for the renewal mandated by Vatican II. Both con-clude that the survey itself affected that renewal. And both main-tain that underlying the changes was a new belief among sisters in the validity of their experience. As Carey describes it, "some women religious determined that their own 'lived experience' was more valid for defining religious life than were any of the direc-fives coming from the church" (Crisis, 75). Quifionez and Turner not only agree; they chart the emergence of that beliefi "Sisters began to notice that even long-held and never-to-be-challenged philosophical and theological premises lent themselves to the pur-poseful sounding of experience, personal and social. Experience possessed its own authority" (Transformation, 38). More significant still is the fact that neither work acknowl-edges the possibility that those whose perspective on renewal is different could contribute something toward a more profound renewal. This is more apparent in Sisters in Crisis. Although Carey Revie~v for Religious admits that at times ignorance may have played a role in the deci-sions that were made, for the most part she attributes baser motives to the main actors: "Some religious institutes purposely expanded the years between general chapters so that experiments could be stretched out. Others purposely incorporated items into their con-stitutions that they knew would never be approved by Rome so they could continue experimenting endlessly" (Crisis, 38-39). Quifionez and Turner are far more nuanced in their expression, and they do not impute motivation to such groups as the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, which consisted largely of community leaders who had renounced membership in the LCWR. However, the absence of any critique of actions taken by the LCWR makes the reader suspect that their account may not be as objective as it first appears. This becomes particularly evi-dent in the concluding chapter of Tran~Corrnation, where Quifionez and Turner list questions to be resolved if religious communities of women are to have a future in the United States. They accurately iden-tify one of the key questions: Is it helpful or even honest to retain canonical status? But they proceed to a further series of questions, all of which imply that the only possible answer to the question of canonical status is no. Moreover, in noting that the hierarchy and the sisters must face the questions honestly, they assert that such a process "will exact a different price from each of them. For the hierarchy it will mean giving up dominative ways of governing; for sisters it will entail laying claim to rightful uses of power. For both, it will involve owning that they are peers, no matter how distinct their role in the church" (Transformation, 167). Tran~orrnation offers ample evidence of "dominative ways of governing" by members of the hierarchy, and even Carey admits that the church officials have been "obstinate" at times. These few words seem to imply that only the hierarchy has misused power and that sisters' only sin has been the failure to use it. This would surely be an oversimplification, of a sort that would tend to polarize further those who disagree about the direction the changes have taken. Underlying the changes was a new belief among sisters in the validity of their experience. July-Auffust 2000 S#ters in Crisis was published five years after Transformation and appears to be intended in part as a response to that work, a sort of revisionist history. While Quifionez and Turner did not have the opportunity to respond to Carey's assertions directly, the current leadership of the LCWR responded by claiming that the women in American religious, communities today are not "sisters in crisis," but rather "sisters in service."s There is truth in this assertion. Many of those castigated by Carey really are performing service of inestimable value, and for them to focus more on that service than on institutional survival does not call for the word "tragic" in Carey's subtitle. But that is not to say that I think there is no ~ri-sis. 6 It has been common in recent years to refer to the two Chinese characters that together convey the meaning of crisis, one referring to danger and the other to opportunity. Carey is right: there is a real danger that women's religious communities as we have known them in the United States will become extinct. But the LCWR leadership is also right in noting that the service which women's communities offer indicates a time of great poten-tial. Here I offer some reflections on how the opportunity pre-sent in this moment of crisis may be recognized and embraced. A Window of Opportunity The story is told of two men seated in the same room in a library. One was very hot and opened the room's only window. The other, afraid that his papers would blow all over, immediately closed, it, only to have it reopened by the first. The reaction of the other can be guessed. When the librarian saw the brewing conflict, she went into the next room and opened the window there, thus providing cool air without creating a disruptive, breeze.7 It seems to me that those who find themselves in deadlock on how women's communities have come to be where they are need to discover another window through which to view the last three decades. For this they may well be helped by James Fowle~:'s the-ory of faith development. For Fowler faith is a verb; it is how a per-son makes meaning of the world. We tend to "faith" in a particular way until that way of making meaning no longer works for us and compels us to make meaning differently; this he describes as a new "stage" of faith.8 During adolescence, for example, many peo-ple begin to base their faith on that of the significant people in their lives. They may have reflected deeply on what they believe Review for Religious and can probably describe the content of their faith, but it is largely tacit. Later the demands of adult life, particularly in a culture no longer homogeneous, often move people toward Individuative- Reflexive faith. Those in this stage can articulate the reasons for their faith. In addition, the source of authority for their faith has moved inward, so that they believe because they have chosen to believe. Even if the content.of their faith remains the same, it has become their own.9 Fowler notes that, as a result of midlife stocktaking, some adults experience yet another transition, to what he calls Conjunctive faith, in which they can peacefully hold their own belief while truly listening to another whose belief is different. No longer do they perceive difference as an attack on their hard-won faith that must be defended at all costs. Rather, the other person's faith becomes an invitation to deepen and refine their own belief. Such faith is not possible until one has fully moved to the Individuative-Reflexive stage by both internalizing authority and making one's belief explicit. (Otherwise what appears a willingness to allow one's own faith to be influenced by others may simply be a form of the tacit faith that allows others to define what. one believes.) The fruit of Conjunctive faith is real dialogue, which begins with the belief that each one comes to the table with a perspective on the truth and includes the humble acknowledgment ~hat each has in some way failed to serve that truth. Fowler's theory has been applied to the "faithing" process of groups as well as individuals. Of course, not all members of the group are at the same stage at any given time. But the theory can be helpful in describing a group's changing "corporate culture." In the years before the Second Vatican Council, for example, when sisters lived in an environment that exemplified one and the same faith perspective, many were able to make meaning of their world through the tacit faith that the environment supported. As Quifionez and Turner describe that time, "canonical definitions, legislated by church authorities, gave 'religious life' its existence, its legitimacy, and its value" (Transformation, 36). In asking women's communities to return to their sources and to read the signs of The other person's faith becomes an invitation to deepen and refine their own belief 3%dy-dugust 2000 Foley * Another I4andow on the Crisis the times, the council caused them to become more analytical. At the same time, both the changes sisters began to make and the movements in the church and in society around them weakened many of the structures which had reinforced their commitment, so that those who remained were forced to acquire personal reasons for doing so. The movement between external and internalized authority is well illustrated by the responses which the members of LCWR gave to actual and proposed canons of church law in 1968 and 1977. Quifionez and Turner note that these responses differed, not in content, but in the way they were justified: "While in the 1960s sisters invoked Vatican Council II to legitimate their view-points, in 1977 they relied on the authority of their own experience to ground their critique" (Transformation, 56). This suggests that Carey is mistaken in assuming that most changes were the result of a few very influential leaders imposing on the rest their way of seeing the world. That may have been true for some, but, by illus-trating the extent to which "change-oriented" sisters began to appeal to. personal experience, Carey herself provides evidence that in general these women had come to a personally appropri-ated faith?° In my view, profound as this kind of faith may be, it is limited by the tendency to exalt one's internal authority to the extent of being unable to allow one's belief system to be affected by oth-ers. This can make it almost impossible to move together as a group. At a chapter several years ago, it was proposed that the community as a group fast and abstain on Fridays as a sign of their hunger for peace. One person objected vehemently, not to the action in itself, but to committing the whole group to any practice. Her memory of practices imposed in the past seemed to make it impossible for her to accept such a limitation on individual free-dom, even when that limitation was chosen. I believe that the future of religious communities depends on their moving beyond such a stance toward the deeper openness that constitutes what Fowler calls Conjunctive faith. Over the years, many "change-oriented" sisters have looked at and tried on elements of what Carey calls "the latest theological, sociological, psychological--and eventually New Age--fads" (Crisis, 138). She condemns both this and what she considers an excessive tolerance for the views of everyone. It seems to me, how-ever, that for many sisters the opportunity presented by the pre- Review for Religious sent moment is the call to a still greater openness, by which they can allow themselves to truly listen, on the one hand, to new alter-natives and, on the other, to those who question their new ways of understanding and living. Carey does not provide evidence to sup-port her accusation that "change-oriented" communities have deliberately silenced their more traditional members, and yet I believe that in some cases the voices of these sisters have not been heard, or their views have been dismissed as reactionary, irrational, foolish. Any honest dialogue would have to begin with everyone admitting some failure to listen. Openness to dialogue is possible, though certainly most dif-ficult, when the other is not similarly open. Carey speaks of "dia-logue" as if it is often used like a ploy in a game,11 and her position throughout Sisters in Crisis suggests an unwillingness to concede that "change-oriented" sisters could possess a piece of the truth. That, however, does not free the latter from the need to continue discerning where the critique offered by more traditional sisters has its own truth that deserves to be faithfully responded to. Opening a different window on the future requires humble dialogue around many of the issues raised by Carey, among which are the mission and vowed life of sisters, their place in the church, and the impli-cations of "refounding" religious communities. Mission Even though she acknowledges that justice has played an important role in sisters' traditional apostolates, Carey maintains that "change-oriented" sisters have recently replaced their true, "spiritual" mission with social justice as "a new primary mission" (Crisis, 112). For example, she criticizes the choice of nonviolence as the theme of the 1996 LCWR conference, claiming that this reveals "the conference's continuing priority bf placing sociopo-litical issues ahead of spiritual issues" (Crisis, 242). In this.discus-sion she comes close to what Quifionez and Turner describe as the worldview of sisters before 1960, for whom the sacred and the secular occupy two different spheres. The coauthors contend that since then many sisters have moved beyond such a view and "increasingly frame the meaning of their life in terms of the church's evangelizing mission" (Transformation, 59). The bishops at the 1971 synod called "action on behalf of justice., a consti-tutive dimension of the preaching of the gospel."12 In light of that July-./tugust 2000 Foley ¯ ~lnotber Windo~ on the ~ teaching, Carey's apparently outdated perspective seems to have nothing to offer the women about whom Quifionez and Turner write. Indeed, seeing spirituality as somehow pitted against jus-tice is not helpful. This aspect of Carey's position, however, masks an important criticism that "change-oriented" sisters would do well to recognize. Quifionez and Turner state that dedication to mission has comd to encompass the meaning of many sisters' lives. They cite a "grow-ing tendency . to define religious identity as witness against cultural values and attitudes" and assert further that "work and identity are inseparably related" (Transformation, 79 and. 39). In my view, this comes perilously close to insisting not only that my work is my prayer, but that it is my life. This is indeed what our culture often proposes; I consider.it an area where sisters are called to take a countercultural stance. Surely there is a middle path between a spirituality that would have no relation to justice and a life that would collapse itself into work on behalf of justice or any other important value. Carey's articulation of the mission of sisters in apostolic com-munities is not satisfactory, but neither is that of Quifionez and Turner. Hence the need for dialogue around what Carey would call the "spiritual" .mission of sisters. Such dialogue could very well occur in the context of the vowed life. Vows Carey claims that many elderly sisters who disapprove of the directions in which their congregations have moved "take very seriously the vows they made, and they are not only disturbed that religious life has been fundamentally restructured in their own communities, but even more alarmed that in the restructured model it is difficult, if not impossible, for them to live out the vows they made to God" (Crisis, 306). Nowhere does Sisters in Crisis explain how the restructuring of communities could make it "impossible for them to live out the vows." Perhaps these sisters believe that, for them to fulfill the demands of obedience and poverty, there must be specific persons designated as superiors who give commands and permissions. If so, a system in which decisions about ministry and the use of goods are made commu-nally may never provide what they are demanding. As has already been noted, Quifionez and Turner maintain Review for Religious that the defining element of many sisters' lives is no longer the vows, but rather witness. This suggests that for these women the concerns of the sisters whose perspective Carey shares are irrel-evant. And yet Quifionez and Turner also say, "For a large num-ber of the women, their shared life has to be linked to ultimacy, to the values of the gospel, to the deepest insights of religious tra-ditions" (Transformation, 166). Just how their lives can be "linked to ultimacy" is an ongoing question that must be addressed if there is to be a future for women's communities. It seems to me that addressing it will be difficult as long as the expression is as vague as that given here. I suspect that the word God is omitted because of the desire to be inclusive. To be sure, speaking of God is dangerous, and moreover help on the journey toward God can come from various traditions, including those that do not name God. But one must begin a journey from some point. Sandra Schneiders has pointed out the danger when communities that consider themselves religious have highly indi-vidualized, and eclectic spiritualities unconnected to the Christian tradition in which the communities are rooted. For such groups, she suggests, "the quiet sidelining of Christian .identity believed and practiced in the church is not compatible with their ongoing life and self-renewal as a religious congregation." 13 Over the centuries Christian women and men have sought to link their lives to ultimate, reality, which they have named God, by means of the vows. They have done this not only and, in my view, not primarily as a witness to others, but because God has somehow reached into their lives, and so, in being true to them-selves, they structure their lives around their relationship to God.14 Certainly there is need to reconceive and even reformu-late what is meant by the vows,15 but this must be done with recognition of their connection to the divine and hence of their significance beyond that of any actions .they imply. Vows of this kind must indeed be taken seriously. Surely there is a middle path between a spirituality that would have no relation to justice and a life that would collapse itself into work on behalf of justice. July-duffust 2000 Foley * Another Window on the Crisis Church Quifionez and Turner say, "Central to their quest for mean-ing, we believe, is the identity of sisters as church women" (Transeormation, 166). But, as Eucharia Malone RSM pointed out as early as 1970, "this relationship with the.church seems to be the point on which we are divided" (see Crisis, 95). In fact, the very definition of church is often at the heart of the polarization within and between women's communities. At first glance it is difficult to imagine a rapprochement between the understandings of church espoused by Carey and by Quifionez and Turner. Sisters in Crisis assumes a church in which the initiative comes from the hierarchy. As a result, Carey implies that sisters' meetings held in 1964-1965 to discuss strategies for renewal were subversive because Perfectae caritatis had not yet been promulgated formally)6 What could she have to say to those for whom church is a discipleship of equals, each of whom is responsible for initiating change? Many traditional as well as "change-oriented" groups have claimed to be following the teachings of Vatican II in their very different approaches to renewal. But the council documents them-selves represent compromises between bishops of various per-spectives. They are often ambiguous concerning the church and hence concerning the role of women's communities within the church. The situation is not unlike what followed in the wake of the last reforming council, the Council of Trent. Like Vatican II, Trent carried its own contradictions within itself,, including both a call for widespread education and an insistence on cloister for women ready to dedicate themselves to the education of young women. The conflicts, that resulted were virtually inevitable. Indeed, the experience of the post-Tridentine church calls into question any notion of reform as neat or uniform in application. In general, Carey fails to place the events she narrates within a larger historical context. She takes the American experience of religious life in the first half of.this century as normative and con-sequendy disparages many of the changes that have occurred since then. Research into the foundations of many communities before this century has revealed considerable struggle, especially with members of the hierarchy, over the very issues of ministry and conformity to monastic lifestyle that so concern Carey?7 Her lack of attention to the history of women's communities appears to be related to her sympathy with the representatives of the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, who wanted discussion with LCWR officials Review for Religious to focus on "absolute truths that would transcend., any age, any period of time, any period of history" (Crisis, 283). Quifionez and Turner, on the other hand, are well aware of the various forms in which what is called "religious life" has mani-fested itself over the centuries, accurately noting that it is always a "historically conditioned" phenomenon.~s They are less attentive, however, to the values sought by sizable numbers of contemporary women and their foremother~. For genuine dialogue to take place, it might be necessary to declare a moratorium on valuing things either as "absolute" or as "historically conditioned." It could go far toward healing not only some of the divisions in women's com-munities, but also some of the woundedness of the larger church. Refounding In her concluding chapter Carey addresses herself to tradi-tional sisters who find themselves in communities that have moved away from what she considers the essence of religious life. She believes that such women may be called to "refound" their com-munities, and so offers a number of recommendations for how that might take place: "This refounding must be accomplished by the sisters within those institutes themselves, for refounding of religious orders cannot be mandated or directed by hierarchy, clergy, or laity, though legitimate refounding efforts should be supported by these other groups of people. In the refounding pro-cess, some members of a religious institute may come to the real-ization that their concept of consecrated life really does not fit the church understanding of a religious institute, and so those women may wish to pursue one of the other forms of consecrated life defined by the church" (Crisis, 328). Carey does not clarify why refounding a community "cannot be mandated or directed by the hierarchy" even though that is precisely what she believes its role should have been during the postconciliar renewal. Equally surprising is the open-ended pro-cess she describes, which it cannot be assumed will conform to the standard definition of a religious institute. Of course she assumes that, if what emerges does not fit that definition, the alter-native is another already defined form. In contrast, Vita consecrata, among other documents, assumes that forms not yet defined are also emerging at the present time.19 . In these comments Carey sketches out, no doubt unwittingly, j~uly-/lugust 2000 Fole~ ¯ Another l~ndow on the Crisis what many perceive to have been going on during all these years since the council: initiatives taken by those within the commu-nity, support for those initiatives from (some) other constituencies in the church, and ~n honest confrontation of the questions that traditional understandings of religious life bring to the fore. The element that Carey believes was missing in so many attempts at renewal is "legitimacy," which she understands to be close con-fortuity to the document "Essential Elements of Religious Life," issued by the Vatican Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes in 1983. Many "change-oriented" sisters and commu-nities consider that sense of legitimacy overly narrow, but in so doing they seem often to have acted as if all changes were equally legitimate. I believe that Carey and others have rightly criticized processes of experimentation that lacked mechanisms of evalua-tion. 2° Many are not fully satisfied with what has emerged in the. course of renewal, but are not sure how to name what is missing. Carey comments sharply on the failure of "change-oriented" communities to attract many new members. In her view, there are only two possible reasons for this, "unselfishness or pathological denial" of the imminent demise of their congregations, and she is quite sure that the latter interpretation is the accurate one. I think' these are false alternatives, though both no doubt play a role at times. A more significant factor in the decline in the number of women joining these communities seems to be a feeling of ambivalence, both among members of women's communities and in the church at large, ambivalence which results in part from massive change without evil-uation and consequently without general ownership. Carey, along with ~¢arious church officials, has declared the period of experimentation for women's communities to be over. But her proposal for refoundation suggests that a new, more pro-found kind of experimentation is just what is called for. The women who are coming to communities these days, particularly those young enough not to have lived through the years immedi-ately following the council, do not share the ambivalence of their older sisters. No doubt it is they who will lead the way in the founding and refounding still to come. Neither/Nor, Looking Anew, Nuancing In my opinion, the renewal of women's communities in the Catholic Church over the past forty years was not "co-opted" or Review for Religious "stolen" by their leaders, but neither has it been fully accom-plished. It is a work in progress, and in that work there has been considerable polarization between different approaches, and mutual recrimination as well. The challenge at this time may be to move beyond present viewpoints, to look through some other window onto those same issues and see a fuller truth. Those who wish to find such a window would do well to heed what Carey has written. Certainly Sisters in Crisis is flawed in its use of sources. Many are cited out of context, they are often listed without explanation or analysis, and generalizations are made on the basis of undisclosed and apparently meager evidence. But Carey's effort to speak in the nameof sisters whose views may have been ignored in the process of renewal provides a significant resource for those who are willing to look and listen. What has been said here about renewal within women's com-munities is true of the renewal of the whole church; in many ways it holds true as well for liberation movements within North America and across the planet. It is often asserted that communi-ties of men and women are called to take a prophetic stance. In my view, such an assertion requires careful nuancing. But, if sisters who represent different perspectives can learn to engage in gen-uine dialogue about their recent history and possible future direc-tions, I believe that could be prophetic indeed, not only for the church, but for all of humanity. Notes i Ann Carey, Sisters in Crisis: The Tragic Unraveling of Women's Religious Communities (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Press, °1997). 2 The focus of my work is women's communities, and the sources for the present reflection deal specifically with women in the United States. Other groups, too, may find what I say relevant. 3 These are not my preferred terms, but since Carey uses them I will follow her lead. 4 Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Tranyformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). s "Book rebukes renewal; nuns rebuke book," National Catholic Reporter, 23 May 1997, p. 6. 6 Former LCWR president Doris Gottemoeller RSM agrees, but she believes that Carey has not named the crisis adequately. See "Religious Life in Crisis," Origins, 25 February 1999, pp. 634-638. ~uly-August 2000 Foley ¯ Another Window on the Crisis 7 One modern source for the story is Roger Fisher, William Ury, and Bruce Patton, Getting to Yes: Negotiating Agreement without Giving In, 2nd ed. (New York: Penguin Books, 1991), p. 40. Walter Wink suggests that finding a third alternative in a situation that has reached an impasse is a gospel imperative. See his Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992). s Fowler suggests that the pattern of stages he describes remains valid regardless of the content of one's faith. It is rather a factor of one's cognitive and moral development,.although the circumstances in which one finds oneself tend to propel one toward a new stage. His theory is quite pragmatic: no stage is better than another; it simply may be more adequate to the realities one has to confront. 9 Note that one of these elements can be present without the other. Persons with an analytical bent can ana!yze the content of a faith that is not personally appropriated. Similarly, persons who tend to be inde-pendent may formally reject the faith of significant others before being able to give a reason for their own belief, other than the fact that it is their own. 10 This is not to say that more traditional communities have not made the same transition. I simply do not have enough evidence to make such a judgment. II She maintains that, when their constitutions were not approved, "many institutes simply played the game of prolonged 'dialogue' with Rome, hoping to win approval for practices that already had been in effect for years" (Crisis, 314). 12 Justice in the World, §6. 13 Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, "Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era," Review for Religious 57, no. 1 (January-February 1998): 26. ~4 I am indebted to Edward Vacek SJ in "Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God," Review for Religious 57, no. 2 (March-April 1998): 118-137, for his description of the vows as'structuring one's life around the relationship to God. ~s Barbara Fiand SND has articulated a theology of the vows in keep-ing with an e~;olutionary, nondualistic worldview. See her Living the I~uion: Religious Vows in an Age of Change (New York: Crossroad, 1990) and Wrestling with God: Religious Life in Search of Its Soul (New York: Crossroad, 1996). 16 See Crisis, pp. 110-111. 17 HWR News and Notes, published by the Conference on History of Women Religious (ed. Karen M. Kennelly csJ; Mount St. Mary's College; 12001 Chalon Road; Los Angeles, California 90049), tracks current scholarship in this area, much of which is presented at that orga-nization's triennial conferences. Both the enormous variety of expressions and the common themes Review for Religious manifest in that variety are very evident in Jo Ann Kay McNamara, Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996). ,9 See ~ta consecrata, Origins 25, no. 41 (4 April 1996); also in The Church and Consecrated Life (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1996), pp. 323-436; see esp. §§12 and 62. The latter section is explicit about the pos-sibility that new forms emerging today may come to be approved offi-cially at a later time. 20 For example, Gottemoeller, "Religious Life in Crisis" (see note 6), p. 635. At the LCWR assembly in August 1999, there were a number of calls for evaluation of the processes of renewal. Musings of the Prodigal's Brother Look at him! The life of the party. Music, fatted calf, ring- all to celebrate my brother's return from a wasted life. Squandered inheritance, prostitutes, and hunger shared with swine. Look at my lathe!! Joy-filled, radiant, his long-awaited prodigal is home. Unconditional, all-forgiving love Lighting up the room with warmth and joy, my father - our father - now at peace. Look at me! Lonely, jealous, bitter. The son who did not squander - but gave my father only loyal, total service, What's this? My envy giving way? My inner blindness praying, "Lord, that I may see"? Maria Corona Crumback IHM ffuly-August 2000 BERNADINE PIEPER A Path of Humility and Truth: Historical Reminiscence T~ay, thirty-five years after Vatican Council II, many people nk that the changes in religious life arose spontaneously, somewhat like Athena springing from the forehead of Zeus. In fact, the changes took place because of intense preparation. That preparation happened in the contexts of the general culture and the individual religious communities. My community, the Congregation of the Humility of Mary, was a small congregation of approximately 430 members, and so most sisters knew one another. The sisters came from a variety of ancestral ndtionalities: Irish, German, Czech, Italian, Mexican, and others. Many of the sisters had rural backgrounds, had the experience of living with Protestants as well as Catholics, and had attended both public and Catholic schools at all levels including university. The congregation had moved from France to Pennsylvania to Missouri to Iowa and had experienced losing the motherhouse in Ottumwa, Iowa, in a 1957 fire. They were pio-neers, risk takers. Further, a remarkable group of women made up the leadership of the Congregation of the Humility of Mary from 1960 to 1966. In November 1964 the general superior, Mother Mary Nicholas, and the general council called for a congregation-wide Bernadine Pieper CHM was elected general superior of her congre-gation in 1966, shortly after Vatican Council ii. She writes from her experience of the past forty years. Her address is Humility of Mary Center; 820 West Central Park Avenue; Davenport, Iowa 52804. Review for Religious vote on a revision of the delegate selection process for the 1966 general chapter of affairs. That same month she and the council ¯ asked every convent to discuss renewal of religious life with spe-cial applications to our congregation. Background material sent for the study included Vatican II's Constitution on the Liturgy, chapters 5 and 6 of the Constitution on the Church, Pope Paul's discourse of 23 May 1964 to all religious, the original 1858 rules and regulations of the Sisters of the Humility of Mary, and Father Bernard H~iring's Christian Renewal in a Changing World. The sis-ters were also asked to study related sections of Scrip~re. The virtues listed in our original constitutions were to be studied along with the congregation's apostolate. The sisters were asked whether " we were meeting the spiritual and religious needs of the people of our time in the localities where we were working. This was a time of excitement and ferment. Discussion of these topics provided an opportunity for departure from the rather superficial conversation typical of specified recreation times. A 22 February 1965 letter from Mother Mary Nicholas states that the objective of our study was profound renewal inspired.by bib-lical, liturgical, and apostolic documents of Vatican II and by wis-dom from the congregation's experience. She said some changes would be decided by the congregation itself while others must await legislation expected in the future. "We realize that renewal of religious life will not be easy," she said. From each of four geo-graphical areas (east Iowa and Illinois, midwest Iowa, southeast Iowa, and the west), she and the general council appointed the following committees: liturgy, common life and discipline, poverty, obedience, works and apostolate, and formation and maturity. Committee members included every sister in the community. After a year of discussion, each of these committees sent a posi-tion paper, including reports and recommendations, for study by the congregation. From October 1965 to May 1966, sisters prepared proposals to present to the 1966 chapter of affairs. A total of 545 proposals on a variety of topics were prepared by the sisters, both by indi-viduals and by committees and groups. The recommendations included practically every facet of the sisters' lives and customs: elections, prayer, charity, social work, spiritual renewal, revision of rule and directory, companionship, cloister, letter writing, use of gifts, permissions, and other more mundane items such as swim-ming, ceremonies, appointments, and speeds at which to drive. ~uly-August 2000 Pieper ¯ ~t Path of Humility and Truth There were few proposals about chastity and friendship, pos-sibly due to the fact that no study group was assigned to this topic. During the previous fifty years, obedience had assumed priority for religious life. Three sisters were appointed to organize the pro-posals for presentation to th6 chapter of affairs in a logical way. After attending a workshop for religious superiors at the University of Notre Dame, the local superiors of the congregation met in the summer of 1965 to look at common life. They recom-mended a variety of changes to Mother Superior and the council. Among the changes approved were: talking at breakfast, walking outdoors after 6 p.m., eating with guests, retiring early, noncen-sorship of mail, elimination of the chapter of faults, yearly general permissions, and going without a companion to medical appoint-ments. Previously three other sisters were involved when one went to the doctor: one as her companion at the doctor's and two oth-ers to drive them there and pick them up again. In 1965, upon the recommendation of the liturgy committee, sisters began to use the breviary for morning and night prayers. A workshop on guidelines for renewal was held in spring 1966 with the cooperation of the Canon Law Society of America and the approval Of Davenport Bishop Ralph L. Hayes. The speakers were Father Paul M. Boyle CP, past president of the Canon Law Society of America; Father Kevin O'Rourke OP, coauthor of Canon Law for Religious Women; Sister Jane Marie Richardson SL, secretary of Sister Mary Luke Tobin SL, auditor at Vatican II; Sister Ignace RSM, province councilor of the Mercy Sisters' Chicago Province; and Sister Maristella (Elizabeth) Picken CHM, member of the Marycrest College religion department. Davenport sisters had also traveled to Aurora, Illinois, that spring for a speech by Sister Mary Luke Tobin. The membership for the 1966 chapter of affairs was entirely different from that of earlier chapters, which had been composed of almost as many superiors as nonsuperiors. Besides the seven ex-officio members--major .superior, council, former major superi-ors, secretary, and treasurer--seven superiors were elected from among 38, nine sisters from among 88 more than 50 years old, ten sisters from among 90 between 35 and 50 years of age, and four from among the 80 sisters under 35. All these sisters had per-petual vows. Sisters with temporary vows had only active voice. During the chapter the delegates voted to abolish all secrecy. Chapter delegates represented a wide variety of sisters. There was for Rdigious a wide spectrum of emotion--fear and impatience on the one hand, hope and excitement on the other. Everyone, however, cared for the congregation and worked hard to follow the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Relaxation of discipline and introduction of the breviary were not the only changes which took place before the 1966 chapter of affairs. The number of entrants into the congregation had already declined before 1966. The largest number of persons to enter the congregation came in 1959 and 1960:27 and 32 respec-tively. In 1965 only six women entered, and in the spring of 1966 only four had been accepted for entrance. Sisters were aware of and inter-ested in civil rights. Though no one went to Selma or other places in the South for demonstrations, they were deeply concerned and prayed particularly when Medgar Evers was killed. They also began to help with local problems. For example, some numbers went sandbagging along the Mississippi in Davenport during the 1965 flood. They tried to do this quietly; when a picture of the sisters appeared in the daily paper, not everyone in the CHM community was happy. Probably attitudinal changes were the most important. In the 1960s the culture implied that one was incomplete without a sex-ual partner. Vatican II taught that perfection was obtainable not just by sisters in community, but also by married persons. At Marycrest College, where over one-fourth of the CHM community studied during the summer, creative and critical thinking was a college goal. Sisters began to recognize that they were thinking creatively .and critically about everything exc.ept their own lives. They became aware that they had been founded as an apostolic community and were neither cloistered nor monastic, but had been trying to live as if they were. At the chapter of affairs, on 27 June 1966, I was elected the general superior. My experience as a superior was limited to sev-eral summers for the sisters who were students at Marycrest College. I had, however, taught a majority of members of the con-gregation. This was my first chapter of affairs. M6ther Mary In 1965, upon the recommendation of the liturgy committee, sisters began to use the breviary for morning and night prayers. Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth Nicholas Sheetz, who might have provided me some guidance, died in October 1966. Mother Mary Magdalen Wilmes, another potential source of information, asked to move to Phoenix. "You can make your own mistakes," she said. I retained the designation "Sister" and took the title president instead of mother superior, as have those who succeeded me. When Father Paul Boyle CP spoke at Marycrest College in April 1966, he assured the members of the committee which orga-nized the proposals that he would be happy to help at the chapter. He came to Ottumwa from Monroe, Michigan, and was invaluable in distinguishing among aspects of church law, community law, customs, and culture. He advised us tobegin with a discussion on prayer because that was the most important topic and further-more was likely to be less controversial than the others. After considerable discussion and revision at the regular June session and a short one in December 1966, about sixty motions were approved by the delegates, either unanimously or at least 10 to 1 in favor. Mass, lauds, vespers, and an annual retreat were the only requirements regarding prayer. However, the value of prayer was endorsed, and continuing past practices was recommended. In the area of poverty, the sisters were asked to be as poor as they wished and to provide community witness to poverty by sharing things. Minor finances were to be a subject for experimentation. Each sister was to be given $15 a month for clothes and personal needs, while housing, .meals, and travel were to be provided by the local house. One sister commented that her girdle alone cost $13. Investigating congregational health insurance was approved. Home visits, travel without companions, retention of baptismal names for those who so wished, eating with persons other than commu-nity members, and letters and phone calls without censorship were approved. Broadening our apostolic works was recommended, with particular emphasis on Latin America. The value of long-range planning was noted. The following commissions were described and set up in great detaili (1) the coordinating commission on apostolic works, with subcommittees in the various areas of work; (2) rule and directory revision; (3) formation and religious renewal; (4) finance and development; and (5) habit revision. The sisters were asked to participate in annual meetings of the whole con-gregation. No time limit for experimenting was set because Pe, rfectae caritatis allowed twelve years. Review for Religious In the letter I wrote to the congregation accompanying the record of the June 1966 chapter, I said: "Many of you have prob-ably read Michael Novak's 'The New Nun' in the July Post, in which he says, 'Press reports emphasize the shortened skirts, the briefer veils, the appearance of nuns on public beaches, but these are misleading superficial aspects of a deep-running revolution. In ever increasing numbers the sisters are creating new rules to define what tasks they may or may not tackle, what styles of life they may or may not adopt.'" Change in clothes was symbolic and probably the change most criticized by the sisters' publics. The original intent was to design and adopt a simple costume with a modified veil. The process, however, led to diversity. Sisters sent requests to the coordinating commission on habit revision, with the final decision to be made by the general superior and council. At first the sisters were expected to wear a veil and white, gray, black, brown, or blue clothing. Many sisters quickly adapted to the change, Next came . requests and permission to wear red and green and finally flowered blouses. Just before the 1967 summer school, the gen-eral council decided to allow sisters to go without veils, having noticed that sisters in some communities who were still asked to wear the traditional habit were surreptitiously wearing street clothes when they were ¯ away from the convent. We felt that honesty was the better policy. At first clothes were usually made out of habits and cloaks and often were ill fitting and not very well designed. Generally sisters wore blouses, skirts, and suits. Some sisters reverted to the hairstyles of their teen years; some bought wigs. Fairly soon, though, the sisters emerged as attractive women rather than neuter icons, and sometimes this incited the envy of other women. For example, one sister found a suitable coat with a small fur collar in the poor box for the parish. She was criti-cized by some parishioners as being too extravagant in clothes. The change to contemporary clothes, the sisters thought, necessitated some means for identification. For a while each sis-ter had a name tag; then we adopted a design for a medal. It is still being used. Change in clothes was symbolic and probably the change most criticized by the sisters' publics. July-August 2000 Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth This was a time of energetic hope and gloomy predictions as well. One priest "expert" predicted that within five years the con-gregation would be extinct. Before 1966 the vow of poverty implied permission for the use of material things. After the 1966 chapter, the meaning of being po.or as one wished and sharing material things was open to interpretation. General congregational'needs included care of retired sisters, administration, and the retirement of a debt on the motherhouse. Up to this time, each house had sent as much as possible to the motherhouse. In fact, sometimes superiors vied with one other to see how much could be sent, even at the expense of local needs. As sisters began to live outside established con-vents, the question arose about ensuring a balance of individual and congregational needs. Since CHM local houses had sent to the congregational fund the amount each determined, it seemed logical to continue this process. Hence, each sister was asked to deduct from her income what was needed for her individual or house costs and send the rest to the motherhouse. Little by little most of the sisters began to contribute as much as they could to the congregation's fund. Diocesan stipends were entirely too low. In the Des Moines Diocese the stipend set for each sister was $50-$100 monthly. In the city of Des Moines, all except one parish paid $50 per month per sister. I had to go to bishops and pastors to ask for an increase in the stipend. Frequently I was told that, if the sisters went back to their habits, they could get along on $50 a month! I prepared and distributed a budget so that the sisters could be informed about real congregational needs. Funds for retreats and education were budgeted. A study was made of average expenses for an indi-vidual. Many sisters responded favorably when they were informed about the needs, both for the congregation itself and for works to assist the poor. To free active sisters from increasing costs for sisters already in retirement, we enrolled in the social security program in 1972 when it became available for sisters. Using unclaimed interest on patrimony, we set up the CHM retirement trust in 1976. Until the summer of 1966, health expenses were cared for gratis by several related hospitals. One of these began charging the sisters for services. Then we initiated a health-insurance plan. Each sister in the congregation was asked to have an annual phys-ical examination. Revie~ for Religio~ The commission on rule revision met almost immediately after the 1966 chapter. Unable to decide what to call the first product of their efforts, it settled on "Spirit and Goals" until a better name could be found. After considerable discussion a state-ment of about a page and a half was sent to all the sisters for study and recommendation. After several revisions, a statement of spirit and goals was approved by a vote of the sisters in August 1968. The statement began, "We Sisters of the Humility of Mary are a group of women in the Catholic Church who have banded together to dedicate ourselves through a special common effort to the pur-suit of life's essential meaning and to a radical response to the Christian gospel of universal love." The Spirit and Goals document was intended as a basic state-ment explaining our spirit and the meaning of religious life for the Sisters of the Humility of Mary. The remainder of the rule was intended to be directives approved by succeeding chapters of affairs. After some years, and after the rules and regulations had been arranged according to topics and divided into Books I and II, the CHM president and I presented the document to the English-speaking committee of the Sacred Congregation for Religious (SCRIS) in Rome in 1982. The committee, finding several sections unacceptable, told us to make mandated changes and resubmit the document. Since the total congregation had already approved the 1982 document, it was necessary that they subsequently vote on SCRIS's mandates. This CHM approval was not forthcoming, so for seven years the congregation followed Books I and II without papal approval. In 1988 a new rule-revision committee attempted to integrate the directives of SCRIS, now called the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) in such a way that our identity would not be compromised. We con-sulted a canon lawyer working in the English-language depart-ment of CICLSAL. Her suggestions included moving as many items as possible to Book II, which did not require canonical approval. The main objection of CICLSAL had been our election process. After numerous revisions we were able to present the document to the CHM general assembly in the summer of 1990. It was approved by the Representative Assembly in that year and sent to Rome requesting the approval date of December 8. We distributed approved copies to the congregation in the summer of 1991. We are still probing self-determination versus community focus. ~uly-August 2000 Pieper ¯ A Path of Humility and Truth That sisters could choose their work had both positive and negative results. By 1968 we were sending openings for available positions to community members. That sisters could choose their work had both positive and negative results. Some felt insecure in having to find their own positions. Sisters who were not good teachers or who had no interest in teaching were able to go to school and train for and find occupations more in keeping with their talents. Justice was adopted as the congregation's priority. More sisters began working directly with the dispossessed, and the congregation supported their efforts. After the recommendation of Pope Paul VI encouraging American religious to go to Latin America, Father Louis Colonnese, director of PAVLA (Papal Volunteers for Latin America), rec-ommended about half a dozen places to the sis-ters. All of these were dioceses where the bishop had a pastoral plan to follow the spirit of Vatican II. Several of us went to visit Bishop Samuel Ruiz Garcia of the San Crist6bal de las Casas diocese in southern Mexico. He took us over mountains to see places where sisters had been working to show us what had been done and what the pos-sibilities were. We were so impressed that we decided not to look further, but rather to use for the program in Chiapas the money we might have spent on airplane fare to other potential sites. We were urged to send sisters also to Ambato, Ecuador. Four si~ters went to these two missions; two are still in the San Crist6bal diocese. Although the commission on formation devised an extensive plan for formation, very few women applied. Furthermore, a :great many, particularly among those who were in temporary vows, left the congregation. Perhaps they were still in the process of being integrated in the congregation in a pre-Vatican II mode. Of the many reasons for the mass exodus from religious communities, I think a good many were cultural. Quite a few young women said that, if they could be as holy living as married women with chil-dren as they could as celibates in community, there was no reason to remain as sisters. The sexual revolution implied that one could not be a whole person without genital experiences. Some sisters, particularly those working directly with the poor, found that their primary community was one, other than the ClaMs. Some who left were those who had been dissatisfied for years. On the other hand, Review for Religious some were sisters who had worked most diligently and effectively for the changes. Some were unable to identify with a patriarchal church. Without a doubt all of us made mistakes. It might have been better to have informed our public about proposed changes, but we were intent on our internal study. In any case, I doubt if the pub-lic would have approved of the changes if we had asked them beforehand. The Sisters of the Humility of Mary moved some-what faster than other communities at this time of. change. As I watched communities that made the changes later, I used to think that I could be a consultant, telling them what to avoid. However, all of us had to learn from our own mistakes even though many of them were similar. Not everyone was mature enough to take per-sonal responsibility. The changes in discipline, clothes, works, and so on were only the expressions of a hope for the inner renewal of each sister and of the entire congregation. Celibacy in community has replaced obedience as the defining vow for sisters. Since the early 1970s, associates have expanded the search and service aspects of com-munity. Among the sisters, responsibility for private prayer some-times meant temporary abandonment of prayer altogether. Inner renewal is difficult to assess and is known only to God and the sister. Bishops witl~ whom CHMs worked were supportive during this time. One said that he did not understand everything that we did, but trusted us. On one occasion he commented, "I would never presume to tell a woman what to wear." Today we are an older and wiser congregation. The renewal set in motion in the 1960s has, I think, resulted in return to the spirit of our founders and a steady love for God, people, and the universe. Father Richard Hill 'SJ died on 29 January 2000 in the Jesuit infirfna~ at,Los' Gatos,~ Cahfornia: " 'Fathei" ~li ~sed~tor for c~nonical ~ounsel from Janua~ 1985 to July.19~)0. ~ : Let us remember him in burp~ay~ers~ July-August 2000 w. HENRY KEN-NEY Finding God's Willm A Maneuver finding God My title, "Finding God's Will," purposely suggests a prior search. In an age when some prefer to think of God as havin~ no specific will for individuals, but only a general wish for us to use our freedom well, the whole concept of seeking and finding God's will seems out of place. But I do not think it is. The theological assumptions behind searching for and finding God's will are, I believe, not of this age. They have appeared in the spirituality of countless saints, and espe-cially in those who lived in the last four or five hundred years. My large debt to an acknowledged master of search-ing for and finding God's will, St. Ignatius of Loyola, I gladly own. I am also quite indebted to dozens of pray-ers (my preferred term for directees) whom I have accom-panied on many a search and in many a finding. So my basic assumption is: God has a specific will which can be searched for and found--in large, medium, and lesser matters. A very good case, I believe, can be made that this is the prevailing assumption of the Bible and that it shines forth especially in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. For instance, along with many scripture scholars, I see Jesus' desert temptations as part W. Henry Kenney SJ, founder of the Bluegrass Spirituality Center in Lexington, Kentucky, is now a free-lance "prayer coach." His address is 153 Barr Street; Lexington, Kentucky 40507. Review for Religious of his search for the Father's will on how to undertake and exer-cise his public ministry. Near the end of his life, we see Jesus in Gethsemane struggling to get beyond his aversion to an igno-minious death ~and coming finally to embrace his Father's will peacefully and courageously. Presuppositions for Fruitful Searching My first presupposition is that searching for and finding God's will is a gift, and God's best gifts most often come in answer to persistent prayer. Hence, the guiding light for a searcher is: Beg, beg, beg. That repeats in short compass the longest teaching of Jesus on prayer: keep on knocking, seeking, begging for God to reveal their (Father, Son, and Spirit) will (Lk 11:1-13). For those who are settled into a significant prayer life, recipients of one of its gifts--a strong desire to know God's will--persistent begging for the revelation of God's will strikes them as quite right. To be given the knowledge of God's will and the courage and joy to do it is perceived by such pray-ers as a most precious gift coming from God's Spirit, the gift. Happy are they who experience their begging turned into receiving--the knowledge and love of God's s, pecific will for them. The second presupposition is that the principal impediment to finding God's will is my own will, often enough so attached to X or so averted from Y that it is very difficult or nearly impossi-ble for Y to be revealed as God's will. Spirituality writers used to call that state "attachment" or "lack of indifference." Currently that state is described as insufficient openness to God's will or lack of spiritual freedom. If I am mildly or strongly attached to getting married or averse to becoming a priest or religious, it is more difficult for me to recognize that God's wisdom and plea-sure are calling me to the priesthood or religious life. When there is very strong aversion or attachment, it is nearly impossi-ble to know and accept God's willing the opposite of our own wills. Let us state this positively. A necessary condition for our finding God's will is our possession of indifference, detachment, real openness to God's will--spiritual freedom. St. Ignatius of Loyola's Spiritual Exercises (§157) supplies a soul-testing remedy for such "inordinate attachments": When we feel an attachment opposed to X [Ignatius instances actual poverty] . it will be very helpful in order ~ly-.4ug~st 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will to overcome the inordinate attachment, even though cor-rupt na(ure rebel against it, to beg our Lord. to choose us to serve him in X. We should insist that we desire it, we should beg for it, plead for it, provided, of course, that it be for the service and praise of the Divine Goodness. (Puhl translation) With some discomfort I own that I have seldom suggested that a praying person follow §157's recommendation. However, from directing pray-ers (and from my own seeking of God's will) I have happened on to a maneuver that achieves, almost by indirection, what §157 seeks straight on. The third (and, for some, shocking) presupposition is this: God's will is usually revealed not by words or images, but by feel-ings: feelings of peace, of increased or continuing peace (called consolation), or feelings of diminished peace, of distancing (called desolation). Novice pray-ers have usually not had enough prayer and life experience of consolation and desolation for those feel-ings to be without the assistance of a spiritual guide--true instru-ments for revealing God's will to themselves. Conditions for Finding and Choosing God's Will Here are four necessary conditions for finding God's will: The first is spiritual freedom or openness. Being reasonably "at balance" is necessary for being really open to God's alternatives. How cru-cial this is can be seen in Ignatius's Exercises, in the extensive instructions and reflections given to help a praying person come to a reasonable level of spiritual freedom. The second is homework. Suffic-ient investigation of the par-ticulars of the available options (who, what, where, when, for how long, at what cost, and so forth) is absolutely necessary. Some per-sonality types want to rush into choosing before they have done their homework, or done it well enough. Pray-ers will often have discerned, in the first place, whether to commit themselves to an in-depth investigation of the alternatives, that is, the pros and cons of each. The third is kairos. There is a kairos, an appropriate time, for the discerning process. Some times are inappropriate, for example, wanting to know if I should accept a job offer before I am offered the job. That is clearly quite different from discerning on whether I should commit myself to investigate some job possibilities or to Review for Religious make some applications. Further, for those given .to control, there is often the temptation to discern alternatives--to have closure-- long before there is reasonable need for a decision. A help in the searching process is to fix the actual date wl~en a decision is needed. Then the discerner can assign a reasonable number of days for discernment before the due date. The fourth is a discernment companion. If a pray-er is leaning to one alternative and strongly dislikes the other, the aid of a dis-cernment companion is usually essential. The companion can help the praying persons to follow the process correcdy and thereby get beyond their subjectivity. Novice discerners with strong attach-ments are astonishingly adept at fouling up the discernment pro-cess. A person who read this article in manuscript form was dumbfounded to find in it a finger pointing out an inclination to subvert true discernment of a touchy personal decision. Even mature pray-ers, at least in their earlier searchings for God's will, usually have need of human help to discern and interpret patterns of consolation or desolation in response to their continued search-ing for the Lord's will. There would, then, be great risk if non-pray- ers or novice pray-ers attempted such formal discernment without a discernment companion, and even greater risk in the maneuver suggested below. The~, would too likely get into magic, divination, or self-deception. A ManeuvermOne Way of Searching for God's Will Central to the maneuver is repeatedly asking a loaded question of the Lord in the middle of prayer. I call it "popping the ques-tion." Unfortunately, there are several gloriously wrgng ways of popping the question. First is popping an unloaded question, such as, "Lord, do you want me to marry Susie?" That sounds quite sensible. What is so unproductive about this Way of phrasing the question is that it demands a vocal answer: "Yes" or "No." The Lord, however, is not in the habit of giving such answers. Not a few pray-ers continue to be scandalized that the Lord's preferred way of communicating "answers" to us is through our emotions, through consolations and desolations. A second wrong way of popping the question is to pop a ques-tion that is loaded towards the alternative the pray-er wants. This, unsurprisingly, greatly muddies the spiritual waters; self-gener-ated "peace" tends to obscure any subtle message from God. If I j~ly-August 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will greatly desire quitting my job and I keep asking, ".Lord, you want me to quit my job, don't you?" my strong emotional bias will give me so much'comfort that a contrary response from the Lord will likely be blocked out. Third, pray-ers will often fudge the process by alternately popping questions loaded against and loaded for themselves. Once again, muddied waters will result. A right way to phrase discernment questions is to use a loaded question consistently, a question loaded against my inclination or aversion and thereby loaded in God's favor. For a young or not-so-young woman attached to her single lifestyle, the loaded phras-ing of "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" will cause disturbance, negative feelings, the first several times she pops it. These initial affective responses will likely prove untypical of responses later on, but she needs to experience them now. I say this because I have quite often seen sincere discerners surrepti-tiously (without knowing it themselves!) try to bypass such dis-comfort and get approval of the alternative they want either by asking an unloaded question or by unconsciously switching to the loaded question that favors their own present inclination: "Lord, you don't want me to marry Stan, do you?" Pray-ers that "lean" toward a preference of theirs need to be assured more than once that it is just as easy for the Lord to "answer" no to a loaded question as to answeryes. Understandably, many "leaning" pray-ersfeel that the question is too loaded against themselves for the Lord to be able to say no. In phi'asing discern-ment questions, it has gradually and experientially ~ome clear to me that it is much better to formulate the questions positively. For example, if a pray-er pops "Lord, you don't want me accept this job offer, do you?" the negative tends to muddy the process. The right-ness of the positively phrased question, "Lord, you want me to con-tinue in my present job, don't you?" can be sensed by pray-ers who lean toward accepting a new job. They experience more dis-comfort with positive questions than with negative ones. When to pop? I ask discernment questions of the Lord only, only, only when I am prayerful, that is, when I am at peace and have some sense of being with the Lord. Never do I ask when I am even a little unpeaceful or lack some real sense of being with the Lord. Praying persons, indeed, are frequently tempted to do this. If they yield, it is like asking the wall and expecting a revela-tory response within themselves as a reaction to the wall's action! Review for Religious When one is consciously with the Lord, whether in formal prayer or at'liturgy or at another time, a question should usually be popped only once. Popping the same question several times in the same ,prayer experience usually comes from a control drive that tends to commandeer the discernment process. How to pop? When I am in the middle of being connected with the Lord, I pop the question, as it were, eyeball to eyeball. Then I wait a short time, seconds. If I wait longer, I am trying to manipulate the Lord or influence my reactions. After popping I need to notice what happened to my con-nectedness and consolation. Did it remain the same? Did it increase? Was it subtly modified? Often pray-ers say "Nothing happened" after they popped the question. My response is "Something always hap-pens!" If my connectedness and peace remain the same, that is a very revealing, though low-key, response. Hence we need to keep a record of our post-popping reactions so that we may discover a pattern. How often to pop? For a small matter, once usually suffices if there has been a clear enough affective response. For larger mat-ters-- a new job, undertaking a volunteer project or pulling back from one--five, ten, or a dozen times usually give a clear picture. Very large questions--marriage, religiou~ life, another child, major change in employment or lifestyle--may need months of discern-ing. What is always being sought is a clear pattern of responses from multiple poppings. Confirmation. When repeated poppings have yielded a pat-tern that tells us we very probably know God's will in a large or very large matter, it is good to supplement the discernment with a further process that may increase and strengthen our careful cer-tainty. Regarding marriage, the confirming question (in full detail, useful for the first popping) could well be "Lord, I think you have revealed to me that you want me to marry Stan. That is your will, isn't it?" Interpreting patterns. If pray-ers' first discernment efforts involve large or very large issues, I usually say nothing beforehand about htw to interpret their experience. Rather, I tell them they should pop the question "about X times," note carefully what hap- I ask discernment questions of the Lord only, only, only when I am prayerful. July-August 2000 Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will pens to their state of peace while and after popping, and record the experience of each discernment. At our next meeting we look at and interpret the responses together. The interpretation is very simple: The experience of consola-tion confirms the loaded question, whereas a lesser peacefulness or a diminished sense of being with the Lord negates the loaded ques-tion. In the example "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" the results of the maneuver may be "muddied" by several years of attachment to a single lifestyle. The first few poppings will probably bring feelings of desolation, coming from pain at the thought of possibly losing certain blessings of the single life. But it is the pattern'of consolations or desolations, derived from many spiritual experiences, that reveals whether the alternative is in harmony or not with God's wisdom and love, and with what is deepest in herself as well. It is worth adding that in using the maneuver people may often experience desolation in new ways. They may sense a sud-den loss of contact with the Lord--no more disturbing than the quiet loss of a telephone connection during a conversation. Or they may sense the onset of a "vacuum" feeling, a severe feeling of emptiness, immediately after popping the question. Such feel-ings are often quite subtle, but are clear instances of desolation nonetheless. Sundry Choices Made by Means of the Maneuver Somehow it seems more appropriate to place this section at the end rather than near the beginning. My hope is that it will give some feel for the variety of discernments. I give some instances of choices that go ~ith the chooser's natural preference as well as againstdt. Understandably, I fictionalize to protect confidential-ity, but give enough details to suggest a "feel" for the shape of dis-cerned choices. First, four examples of big choices: a woman in her thirties who had enjoyed an active lifestyle met a man whom she feared God might want her tO marry and thus have her lifestyle signifi-cantly altered. Hers was a long discernment, spread over a num-ber of months, and she gradually became more open to marriage, especially through the use of "Lord, you want me to marry Stan, don't you?" Postwedding life has proved the fittingness of her def-initely not easy choice. There is a greatly loved child, and she Review for Religious found herself saying, "It's clear to me that I'm growing up now." A man in his early forties, increasingly uncomfortable with his military-connected job, sought first to know if God wanted him to give up his job and seek training and employment in some-thing more oriented towards human service. It was difficult to consider giving up a well-paying job without knowing what the next, step would be. His discernment was eased by his having a substantial amount of savings. In his case the discernment of per-haps five or six months gave him the certainty (and courage) to quit his job. This led to discernment about further education and eventually to a people-centered ministry. A young woman, thirty-two, who came with a strong prayer life and dedication to helping the poor, was not charmed when I asked if she had thought about religious life. "I want to get married and have children." "What if God wants you in religious life?" was a question she did not enjoy. In some-thing like a month of using the loaded ques-tion "Lord, you want me to be a religious, don't you?" she came to much more spiritual freedom for either marriage or religious life. She found herself eager to know God's will clearly, whatever it might be. That desire was fulfilled in another month and a half by a definite vocation to a missionary order. A woman in her forties taught'alternativ~ high school (possi-bly a universal euphemism for teaching students less than sixteen and expelled from regular schools). She heard of the possibility of becoming chief financial officer for a large God's Pantry opera-tion; she was both very qualified and very attracted. When, how-ever, she frequently asking loaded questions about whether God wanted her to continue in her present job, she came up with no clear sense of direction. Then, almost immediately after she was actually offered the CFO job, her prayer was filled with clarity that God wanted her to continue teaching "alternatives"--the very drift of her original popped question. Next are two examples of "medium" choices, but I flinch at such labeling because often the consequences are major. Probably the saddest accompanying I have done was with a man in his for-ties who was in a cult-like abusive relationship. In a discernment "What if God wants you in religious life?" was a question she did not enjoy. .~uly-Aug~st 2000 Kenn~y ¯ Findin~ God's W~ll which was long enough and clear enough, the answer was yes to "You want me to give up my relationship with X, don't you?" The sadness is that the relationship continued with great harm to him-self and to his family. Though I tried to persuade him to get coun-seling, the abuser convinced him that that counselors do the work of the devil. A man in his early fifties is a first-rate high school teacher. He got the idea that it would be good to get a Ph.D., but dis-cernment dictated otherwise. He continued happily and effectively teaching for several years. Because he is very gifted, he was asked to do all sorts of things at school, at church, and elsewhere. Before using formal discernment he was seriously fatiguing himself by undertaking too many projects. He began using a discernment notebook. When asked to do something, he noted it, carefully constructed a question for popping, used it in prayer,and logged the '~results." He says. no a lot more now, and notes the absence of fatigue. Out of the blue a department chair at the university asked him to supervise graduate students doing their summertime practice teaching. Not only did his discernment yield a clear "No," but also an unusual pair of words, "You're enough"--exactly what he needed to hear. He has no need for other and ever new achieve-meats to prove and feel his self-worth. Other Ways of Discernment The maneuver suggested here is one good way of seeking and finding God's will. There are many other ways. Experimentation vs. popping. In several areas of our lives where the prayer discernment process proposed here is not appro-priate, experimentation is a privileged way of finding God's will. It can be used for how long to pray, where and when to pray, what type of prayer is best for one's "daily diet," how much sleep, exer-cise, food, and drink to get, and so forth. Experimentation is not trying X one day, Y another, and Z on the third. Rather, it is try-ing one way five to seven times, then trying another way five to seven times, and afterwards reflecting on our experiences, espe-cially on the quality of our lives during the alternative experi-ments. St. Ignatius Loyola observes: "Now since God our Lord knows our [individual] nature infinitely better [than we do], when we make changes of this kind, [God] often grants each one the grace to understand what is suitable for [us]" (SpEx §89). Review for Religious There is another way that God answers sincere prayer--and, here, prayer to know God's will. My sister, her husband afflicted with Alzheimer's, knew they had to move into some form of assisted living because her heart condition was making her ever less able to care for him. She was more inclined to get care eight hours per day rather than 24-hour care--too pricey, she thought. Her earnest prayer that God reveal Their will was strikingly answered. The next two nights her husband had diarrhea and did not know what the toilet was for. Clearly, day care would not suffice. Another way of discernment is, I think, proposed by St. Ignatius, but unfortunately I cannot document this. This way involves offering the Lord different options as one would present different dishes to an honored guest, waiting to see which' he prefers. I mention, too, the experience of a Baptist minister who, faced with significant choices, would open his Bible to random passages and find in them helpful suggestions towards a particular course of action. He would say, "The Scripture came and grasped me." Summing Up First, the maneuver suggested here for finding God's will in larger and medium discernments centers on popping loaded ques-tions to God in prayer and noticing the pattern of desolations or consolations. By examining the patterns, the pray-er comes to suf-ficient certainty (especially if there is a confirmation process) that God's will has been found. This maneuver has been instrumental for scores of pray-ers in finding the peace of certainty about God's will for themselves even, sometimes, in small matters. The out-comes of decisions arrived at in this manner have been uniformly good (with one exception), and pray-ers have continued secure in their discernments, free from attacks by second thoughts. For persons who approached a decision leaning somewhat or strongly to one alternative, an unplanned and unexpected result of using the maneuver is that repeated poppings of a question loaded against their inclinations brought them--gradually, but more rapidly than I had dared hope--to equanimity about, or even real openness, to the unwanted alternative. With only one excep-tion, those who were led to "tough love" decisions were able to embrace them peacefully and live them energetically. Those who were led by the right use of the maneuver to embrace alternatives July-August 2000 L3-77-- Kenney ¯ Finding God's Will in accord with their initial preferences enioyed the special conso-lation, of knowing they had sought and found not merely their own will, but also God's. Magnificat I want to thank with all my heart the unknown man who, this summer, hacked back and burned the briars and unruly gorse which had covered that singing stream between Boolagh Bog and Bockagh Hill. And I will, because now eye can feast on the smooth black tables of rock down which clear brown water tumbles and bubbles and makes white foam. Ear had always heard the choir under the gorse-and-briar canopy. Body had always sat or stood there, soothed by sound. Now eye and ear heart and bone and soul and tumbling stream are humming their Magn~'cat in unison. Bernadette McCarrick RSM Review for Religious HILARY OTTENSMEYER Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Mnuch of our United States consumer-society mentality vades our quest for spiritual growth. We snatch up the latest acclaimed spiritual authors. We dash off to the latest popu-lar workshops. We try to take in more and more. The effort is laudable, for there is this hunger within us to know more about God's plan for us and to draw nearer to Jesus. All the restless searching, however, ignores the treasure that lies right at our feet. We look everywhere, but we do not see it. As Meister Eckhart wisely put it, "all people have a vintage wine cellar, but they sel-dom drink from it." What I propose here is a stop to all this chas-ing about and an invitation to look into ourselves at the inner wisdom that is already ours. We have access to it. Where the Treasure Lies Have you .ever noticed how easily we slip into states of total absorption, into trancelike states? I imply nothing "spooky" here. This is simply the way our minds work on certain tasks. In that state of absorption, of inner searching, we step out of time, away from the settings around us. We become so focused on a single idea that no other thought, no other emotion, intrudes. People who use their mind in this way experience vivid imagery and feel overall such bodily responses as muscle tension and sometimes Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB last wrote for us in our January-February 1997 issue. His address remains 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. July-August 2000 Ottensmeyer ¯ Consulting Your Inner Wisdom heightened blood pressure. Common occurrences: driving right past your own home, not hearing what people say and asking them to repeat, and not noticing that the phone is ringing insis-tently. Sometimes, by single-minded concentration on a prob-lem, we may come up with a "Eureka!" experience and have a solution. Most of the time, however, I suspect we choose this kind of intensive focus when someone's word or action has wounded us, and we retreat inwardly to chew on the bitter rind of our hurt pride. My suggestion here is that the mind's same powerful ability to focus, its intensity and bright-point targeting, can be used voluntarily in prayer--only this time the focus is on the inner wisdom we all possess through the grace of baptism and indeed all the sacraments and through our enriching experiences of striv-ing to be faithful followers of Jesus and reflective readers of the Gospels. In this way of prayer, we ask the Spirit of Jesus to guide and enlighten us. When we Christians go into the center of our minds and hearts, it is the indwelling Spirit who greets us there. There we hear the echoes of the voice of Jesus and of all the good people who have been examples of faith and good conduct for us. That central core of ourselves is the inner wisdom of which I speak. It is there, and it is available. But let me make a few distinctions. Some Clarifications I am not referring here to centering prayer or at least to what I understand by centering prayer. To quote Father Thomas Keating in his excellent book Open Mind, Open Heart: "A thought in the context of [centering prayer] is any perception that appears on the inner screen of consciousness. This could be an emotion, an image, a memory, a plan, a noise from outside, a feeling of peace, or even a spiritual communication. In other words, anything what-soever that registers on the inner screen of consciousness is a 'thought.' The method consists of letting go. of every thought dur-ing the time of prayer, even the most devout thoughts." ~ What I am referring to here about consulting your inner wisdom probably comes close to what Keating refers to, and dis-misses, as self reflection?. This, Keating says, is to be got over in order to reach pure cont.emplation. My own proposal is a delib-eratefocusing of thought as if one were using a magnifying glass to Review for Religious ' direct the beams of the sun to one spot. Such a tactic could pen-etrate steel. The discipline I propose is not behavior modification. That highly effective psychological tactic involves visioning an unde-sirable behavior of mine, such as becoming angry with the choir habits of a fellow religious, and then seeing myself calmly allow that person to do his or her own thing without my usual emo-tional upset. Consulting our inner wisdom means having in mind a specific goal (more on this later), then cleansing our mind of external dis-tractions by some relaxation exercise, and, in that calm and focused meditative state, inviting the Lord (or some other spiritual counselor) to help us understand and move towards atti-tudes and behaviors more consonant Jesus, unlike ourselves, with the obedient love with which a allowed himself to Christian wants to identify. This differ-entiates consulting our inner wisdom be angry only.when from simple behavior modification because it sees the change in ourselves the Father's honor and as inspired by the example of Jesus and glory were attacked. not simply as a personal social or emo-tional adjustment, helpful though that might be. Take, for instance, the ques-tion of boundaries. We are all aware how careful we are to pro-tect the spiritual frontiers of our Christan, Jesus-inspired integrity. Anger, rooted in pride, is one such protection effort. Jesus, however, unlike ourselves, allowed himself to be angry only when the Father's honor and glory were attacked. See, for example, the cleansing of the temple or the "woes" in Matthew's Gospel. At all other times, personal attacks did not seem to move him emotionally. When we honestly consult our inner wisdom, we may note boundaries of ours that we fail to protect enough. We may fail to caution ourselves regarding the sight or memory of a sexually attractive person. We may carelessly allow ourselves to recollect wounding words or actions that, even years later, cause us to tighten our fists or clench our jaws. Reflecting upon our inner wisdom, we can suspect or see the dangers of these reactions and thereby find ourselves protected against deep tenacities and inva-sive roots. "When you bury hate in your heart, you bury it alive" is a piece of liberating wisdom worth remembering. ~,~-~-~L~ ~ July-August 2000 Ottensmeyer ¯ Consulting Your Inner Wisdom Some Helpful Preliminary Disdplines Any relaxation exercise that suits our personality may be used to induce a meditative state. Relaxing the muscles from the head on down throughout the body is a common practice. The point is to pull the mind away from the leaping about that characterizes our ordinary mental activity. As one Eastern mystic put it, "the mind is like a tree full of chattering monkeys." Another approach, count-ing backward from thirty, demands just enough concentration to clear the mind of other thoughts. Paying attention to your breath-ing also slows down the inner agitation. The current enthusiastic practice of walking a labyrinth serves the same purpose--certainly this was the reason why many European cathedrals have a labyrinth carved in the floor near the entrance. Working through a series of yoga exercises, too, or focusing on a mantra helps some achieve the same end. Before entering into such a disciplinary exercise, it is impor-tant to have a goal in mind: "Jesus, I want to go into the place where you live in me, sit with you there, and talk about this com-pulsion to anger, to judgment, that spurts up so frequently, so involuntarily within me. Open to me your way of living with anger, for you felt it too. Help me draw on the many times I have given in, and the times I have restrained myself and 'stuffed' down my anger, only to see it blaze up in a trivial context once again, a con-text that was most inappropriate. Lord, I want freedom--to the degree my frail humanity allows--freedom from this compulsion. Lord, I am admonished by the wisdom you,.and others, have taught me. I have seen people mellow with the years, and others grow sour. Seeing someone act harshly, hearing another cut into someone's reputation, I react angrily at once, from the simple proud conviction that 'I wouldn't do it that way!' And I quickly find myself locked emotionally and mentally into scathing criticism." Jesus gently points out to us--after we wait silently for a while--that the only times he became angry were when the Father was attacked, ignored, impugned in some way. Our petty and obsessive responses melt before his gentle encouragement. Sometimes when we journey inwardly we become more acutely aware how often we fall into stubborn, addictive behaviors about which we feel helpless. Who is this "other" person who shows up within me, powerful, demanding, whom I watch with anguish as if it were a stranger? We have tried therapy, prescription drugs, behavior modification. The one.thing lacking to these tactics-- Review for Religious and I do not deny their value--is this: They rarely draw on that inner wisdom, that Jesus-centered encounter, where true change can take place. For instance, Alcoholics Anonymous has helped innumerable people, and indeed has an important spiritual com-ponent, namely, surrender to a Higher Power. But surrender in faith is only a beginning. There needs to be private self-ques-tioning that draws on the inner wisdom with which we are graced. Wl~en an addictive, destructive pattern has invaded our psyche so that a part of our life has become disconnected from the normal flow of life, we need to reach into the deepest resources within us: grace, the voice of Jesus, our inner wisdom. Within this intense, highly focused place in our mind, we call on Jesus to walk us through another pattern of behavior. Mental rehearsal is common to many forms of psychother-apy. Seeing yourself in the company of Jesus, however, and con-trasfing sad experiences of the past with "bright angels" of wisdom and true freedom, we choose a different, liberating pattern of action. We establish new boundaries, mentally and visually mov-ing away from the edges of danger. The mental rehearsal itself is now a new behavior that we can draw on when temptation returns. The hand retracts instead of reaching for the bottle, the eyes turn away from the stimulus to lust (maybe "custody of the eyes" was not just a life-depriving tactic after all!), the serving spoon is put down after one moderate portion. Psychologists continue to study how the mind visualizes behaviors and procedures. Imagination and imagery can be used in very sophisticated ways. In a recent New Yorker article, Malcolm Gladwell asks: "What do Wayne Gretzsky, Yo-Yo Ma, and a brain surgeon named Charlie Wilson have in common?" The answer: their practice of careful visualization before any action is taken. These men are virtuosi, and they exercise their great technical skills internally first. They mentally see an action through to the end before they perform it externally. Charlie Wilson, during his morning run, looks at each of the day's operations in his head, visualizing the entire procedure and its potential outcome. He says, "When I was actually doing the operation, it was as if I were doing it for the second time." Once, after finishing an operation, .taking off his gloves, and heading off down the hall, he suddenly realized that "the tape he had been playing in his head didn't match the operation that had unfolded before his eyes. 'I was correlating everything--what I saw, what I ~dy-August 2000 expected, what the X rays said. And I realized that I had not pur-sued one particular thing. So I turned around, scrubbed, and went back in, and, sure enough, there was a little remnant of tumor that was just around the corner. It would have been a disaster.''3 Consulting our inner wisdom involves a similar attention to detail. The skills to visualize here, however, are not the motor skills, but rather the spiritual skills we have accumulated over the years through prayer, scriptural study, and the counsels of wise Christians in spiritual reading and in the living church. It is all there inside, waiting to be drawn on like a rich bank account. Adding to the Inner Wisdom We sometimes feel empty, wandering endlessly in our private deserts. We feel locked into decades-old mental labyrinths. Our motivation flags. Dorothy Day once told a reluctant young friend that God "makes us understand this distaste, this recoil from reli-gion. The lethargy comes from a. consciousness of the immanence of the struggle, the fact that it is unceasing and will go on to death, and we often think that sheer thoughtless paganism would be a relief. ''~ But deep within we accept what the great John Cardinal Newman wrote: "Prayer is to the spiritual life what the beating of the pulse and the drawing of the breath are to the life of the body. It would be as absurd to suppose that life could last when the body was cold and motionless and senseless, as to call a soul alive which does not pray. The state or habit the spiritual life exerts itself consists in the continual activity of prayer.''5 Our task consists in never giving up on the faithful practice of prayer. How often we have heard that! And each morning we awake with renewed intention. But then we shoot through the day like a bullet, "busy about many things"--good things, too. When we finally bring ourselves to our inner wisdom, finally sit at the feet of Jesus just for a while, it seems we hear him say: "Until you are convinced that prayer is the best use of your time, you will not find time for prayer." And the sentence haunts us, but also frees us now for the best use of our time. It is as though a key has turned in a lock. Sometime~ it is helpful to have a favorite saint join you in that central place of peace. St. Joseph, who never ~ays a word in the Gospels, is delighted when you join him for an evening and sit with him on a bench just outside the little house in Nazareth. Review for Religious Perhaps Mary will come out, too, and rest awhile as the sun sets behind the Galilean hills. There is a beautiful view from Nazareth over towards the Roman city of Sepphoris, and even beyond to-the great sea. They will talk to you if you question them. When Problems Arise, When Hopes Surface When we go with Jesus into th~ place of our inner wisdom, we make starding discoveries. We may find problems we did not know we have. We are likely to become aware of wasteful, regrettable ways that our head and heart have been capable of, but cannot well afford. There are innumerable clamorous voices. There is the insistent voice of the Problem Solver. He wor-ries relentlessl~ about the future. The muscles around his eyes are taut because he is always peering ahead, looking for solutions there in the distance. He causes headaches and upset stomachs. The expectations of others are his con-stant concern as he tries to weigh a chance remark, interpret a fleeting facial expression. There is no center from which he acts. Life is one wrenching effort to get control of things and people. His bulky appointment calendar, like Marley's chain, gives him away. Another recognizable voice inside us is the Self-Accuser. Her skin gets hot, her hands become fists, as she recalls awkward words and clumsy gestures from years past. She plays memory tapes over and over in our head. No one is more persistent in tearing us down than she is: "You have been in religious life for fifty years now, but that is no proof that God loves you." Nothing so saddens, so pierces the heart like this cry, one we have all heard many times. The Self-Accuser has only to stop talking and thus give,us a quiet moment to lift our eyes to the cross or listen to Jesus' many words of love for us, or to hear Yahweh's endear-ments in the words of prophets and psalmists. But, beaten down by the Self-Accuser's words or shrinking from her grimaces, hear-ing we do not hear, seeing we do not see--because the Self- Accuser in us relendessly shares her deafness and blindness with us, and we chronically allow it. Sometimes it is helpful to have a favorite saint join you in that central place of peace. j~uly-Aug~tst 2000 There are other inner voices. Perhaps most persistent is the voice of the Lonely One. It does not let us forget that we long to love and be loved, to hold and be held, to whisper and be whis-pered to, to beclose to Another and not feel so alone. Sometimes we do feel consoled and calmed. The lonely restlessness at the center of our being, however, can never be completely quieted; perhaps it is not meant to feel so much peace. It is a reminder of" our desire for our heavenly home. How poignantly John of the Cross describes this quest for the Beloved in his Spiritual Canticle: "Where have you hidden, Beloved, and left me moaning?" In the hollow center of the soul where inner wisdom and grace live, there also dwells this urgent longing, We carry this wound in our heart. We become aware of it sometimes with hopeful anticipation, some-times with fear. In time, achieving greater integrity--the union between what we appear outwardly to others and what we know inwardly to be true--may calm us to some degree. Disturbing voices within us are balanced by "bright angels" calling us to. greater integrity. We long for inner peace, but only sometimes, with our inner wisdom, do we experience a joyous hope for it. Letting Memory remind us "of those splendid moments when we were touched by God, when we felt the reality of God deeply, is inner wisdom. Those blessed recollections remain when thought and emotions became as one with.an intensity that seems like an embrace. These are wells to which we can return time and again. Another support is Imagination: gathering together the way-ward impulses of our heart, humbly putting them before Jesus as the woman caught in adultery did during her brief moments with him after all the others had gone. And she heard him say, "Neither do I condemn you" (Jn 8:11). We long to hear such healing words, words of forgiveness that bring an offer of reconciliation. Unlike her, we may still hold out, failing to hear those words because of our pride and shame. St. Paul insists: "We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God" (2 Co 5:20). The repetition of per-sonally inspiring gospel texts (we all have our own)--in a mantra-like fashion, but more intentionally, until they infuse the heart--evokes and strengthens the inner wisdom. "The Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name" (Jn 15:16). "You did not choose me, but I chose you" (Jn 15:16). Allowing such words to soothe the heart steadies our resolve. As the Curg d'Ambricourt affirmed on his deathbed in Georges Bernanos's novel The Diary of a Country Priest: "All is grace." l~eview for Religious Jesus the Center of Our Being It helps to anchor our resolve in one basic' truth: Jesus is the center of our being, our very existence. Until we can accept that, we cringe when we hear Jesus uttering those breathtaking demands to his disciples: "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up h.is cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 10:37-39). Who does this Jesus think he is, pushing into our lives and taking them over? Presuming on our most instinctive loyalties! Preempting our deepest affections! Usurping our natural ties to father, mother, son, and daughter! Boldly proclaiming himself the most important person in our lives! This cross which he demands we take up daily disorients our whole lives, doesn't it? These demands are one way of forcing us to admit quite simply--and we are dazed by the thought--that we are not the center of our own life. Everything in our consumer culture tries to convince us that we are. If we can swallow and digest that one truth, many of the pieces in this vast jigsaw puzzle of our lives would fit together wonderfully. When we realize that Jesus made us the center of his life within his obedient love for his Father--these demands become acceptable, even desirable. My favorite image of intimacy with Jesus comes from John's Gospel. The beloved disciple, while re.clining at table on that unforget-table evening, leans back onto the breast of Jesus. Consulting the inner wisdom that God has put into our hearts, we know we are invited to do the same. Do we have the courage, the love, to do so? Notes ~ Thomas Keating, Open Mind, Opoz Heart (New York: Amity House, 1986), p. 35. 2 Keating, Open Mind, p. 112. 3 Malcolm Gladwell, "The Physical Genius," New Yorker, 2 August 1999, p. 63. 4 Dorothy Day, "Letter to an Agnostic," America (90th Anniversary Issue) 180, no. 13 (17 April 1999): 8. s Quoted in Saint Meinrad Archabbey's Community Bulletin, 4 July 1999, p. 2. ~dy-August 2000 EILEEN E O'HEA Tell Them, Tell the New Members. religious vocations A Mission is clear. That is, most if not all religious insti-tutes have spent days, weeks, months on mission state-ments for their communities. And they have done this bravely, wisely, prayerfully. These statements, coming from their lived experience as dedicated men and women, represent not only what they are doing now but also what they hope to do, or do better, or do more of. Concern for the poor, the marginalized, the disenfran-chised is a substantial part of communities' commitment to do whatever they can to facilitate the reign of God here on earth. A sister in my community, Elaine, one we all agree is charismatic in the true sense of the word, has been riding the chartered bus from New York City to the Bedford Hills Women's Correctional Facility every other Sunday. The bus is filled with inner-city children going to see their mothers. It is a two-hour ride. Elaine's con-cern for the women in prison and for their continuing relationship with their children has made these Sunday visits possible. For more than thirty years Elaine has worked in what she calls "the slammer." Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ, a decade-long contributor to our pages, had her third book published in May: In Wisdom's Kitchen: The Process of Spiritual Direction (Continuum). Her address is still 1750 Marion Street, #8; Roseville, Minnesota 55113. Review for Religiotts "The slammer" is an accurate term because, as Elaine enters, at least ten gates must open and slam shut before she gets to the room where she works within the razor-wired enclosure of this maximum-security prison. The room is now called The Children's Center. Elaine's job has been to do whatever she can to help the women keep in touch with their children. This article will not attempt to describe all that is involved in Elaine's ministry in prison, or to describe the eight convents (called Providence Houses) that she and others have reopened so that women leaving prison have a place to live and a chance to begin again in a new environment. Their children come too, of course. The sisters liv-ing in these houses with the women and children are quite clear about the mission-and-ministry statements of their congregation, the Sisters of St. Joseph of Brentwood, New York. Stories like Elaine's (or Eugene's, as the case may be) are true of individuals or groups in many communities--and are attract-ing new members. "Come and see," we say. Come, join us in try-ing to make a better world. Come, help to bring about systemic change. Every year a few do come. They are searching; they seek something worthwhile to give their life to. They want to make a difference, and they want to be with others, with communities that are facilitating the reign of God on this earth. For some new members, religious life seems to work for a while but then seems to be "not enough," not enough of what they looked for or hoped to find. "What do you get for doing this?" they ask, or "Why stay?" after the excitement of discovery fades; "I can do this without a vowed life of poverty, chastity, and obedience." And they are right; they can. Many women and men, ¯ married or partnered, hold the same values and are involved in the same types of ministry. When we invite new members into this little piece of the vine-yard, into participating with us in mission and ministry, we often forget a simple truth that might literally be underneath their skin. New members seem to be looking for three things: ° a lived expe-rience of gospel values through the mission and ministry of the community; ¯ intimacy, which is part of the friendship found within community; ° and intimacy with the Divine. It is this third one I am concerned about. Elaine and the Providence House sisters are, without a doubt, prayerful, God-centered, holy women. They reflect on the day's Scriptures together, talk about the meaning of the texts for their July-August 2000 O'Hea ¯ Tell Them, Tell the Nay Members. personal life and for their ministry, and they are committed to some personal prayer each day, usually some form of contempla-tive prayer. If we put prayer, community life, and ministry together, then why is it "not enough"? Admittedly, prayer or Scripture shar-ing sometimes means that those present share their personal strug-gles, philosophies, and theologies and thus can seem too intellectual, or too focused on the external ministerial needs, or too routinely self-focused. Most times, however, it is a heartfelt response to divine inspiration and the Gospels. Is this not "enough"? Perhaps not. Maybe those great mentors like Elaine and others are not sharing quite enough with the new member. We seem to do well at providing and accompanying new mem-bers in meaningful ministry. We also share community and friend- ~hip withthem, but we know, and hope they know, that we cannot supply what did not happen for them in their families of origin. Alice Miller, a leading psychologist of our time, states: "What you didn't get at age two, you will never get." Why? Not because we will not know love and affirmation, but because we will not know them as a two-year-old needed to know them. Intimacy and love is often an issue for new members, and they must work hard at discerning what they are meant to find within the community and what they must find within themselves. Frequently they feel there is not enough intimacy because deep friendships seem hard to find among the members. This is so because most of the members are much older, or are already bonded in relationships that have endured for years, or because the older members are so involved in their ministry that they do not have the time or the energy for anyone else. We probably will never resolve successfully all that is involved in the struggle for intimacy and love within religious communities, but we can do better. What remains after considering prayer, community life, and ministry is this: What do we get for doing all this? What has kept Elaine trudging up to the slammer each day for thirty years? What makes h6r such a holy woman? Is there some experience so sus-taining that makes it worth everything? Is it possible that you, Elaine, have experienced being grasped by Divine Love? Is there something that happens, intimacy with the Divine, that holds you, sustains you, makes you the very delightful and humorous person we all know? Did you encounter Christ in your ministry to the poor and is this what transformed you? Do you, Elaine, know, really know, intimacy with Divine Love or know you dwell in inef- Review for Religious fable Mystery? And is what you experience available to me, the new member? Can you tell me---if, indeed, it did happen for you-- whether it happened all at once, or gradually through the years, and what kinds of psychological, emotional, and spiritual ups and downs you have gone through? Was there one experience that was more formative for you than any other? Intimacy with Divine Love (and people experience it in a variety of ways) is what the human heart longs for, searches for. Our nature is such that we are all meant to realize union in and with the Divine even though each of us will experience it differ-endy. So, when we invite new members to "come and see," we must tell them what they get. In my novitiate days the sixty-four novices (thirty-two have remained these forty years) were told by a very wise and very Irish mistress of novices that, if we left all, we would receive back a hun-dredfold. Did we? I cannot speak for others, but my guess is that most (maybe not all) would say yes and that they would make the same life choice if they had the opportunity to live it over again. They just never say exactly why they would do this. Intimacy in any human relationship of true love is rarely spoken about in detail. The same is true of intim, acy in and with Divine Love. Mystics write about human and divine love because they break through egoeentricity and are no longer reticent or ashamed to speak of the wonder, the awe, the love they experi-ence. Poets write of human and divine love and tease our spiritual appetite by circling around some pro'found experience. They are like eagles riding the air current, then soaring so high we lose sight of them and what they are expressing. They stir up the embers of our hearts with their hints, but eventually leave us feel-ing tantalized by possibility. I do not think it can be any other way. Relationships of true love are intrinsically mysterious because the experience is beyond words, beyond intellectual constructs. The words of the poet point us to the moon, as the Zen saying goes, but once you see the moon the pointer is no longer neces-sary. In fact, it is an impediment. What remains after considering prayer, community life, and ministry is this: What do we get for doing all this ? July-August 2000 O'Hea ¯ Tell Them, Tell the New Members. What ke~ps us from at least giving hints as poets and lovers do? What can we say to new members if we are not poets? Some, like the poets, will use romantic language to describe their expe-rience of the Divine; others will be more concrete or more tran-scendent in expressing their experience. Recendy, at the end of a mission-and-ministry convocation, someone complained that he seldom heard Jesus referred to throughout the weekend. One of the participants responded by asking, "Is it more important to quote Scripture and refer explic-itly to Jesus or to do what he did and invite people to share the communion of table fellowship with us?" A good question, a great response. It has a familiar ring to many of us. It is the tension between doing works of justice and peace and theologizing about them, and then reflecting on them and integrating them as part of our own personal journey of faith. Simply naming God and Jesus as we talk about our lives and ministry is not what I am referring to. I want "hints" from Elaine and from the remaining thirty-two members of my novitiate. I think the reasons we hesitate to speak about our religious experi-ences are many. We do not all believe the same things about God or Jesus any more, and we do not want to offend, or we are afraid of exposing what is most sacred to us because it might meet with disdain and scoffing, or become the subject of theological combat. And so we are quiet. The pearl of great price is buried. Religious experience is always unique, different with every individual. Two categories, however, help to explicate distinct modes of experience. For those whose religious experience is the esoteric, God is the One beyond all names .and forms and is Mystery. There is nothing to say and nothing to tell because, over their years of spiritual searching, they have discovered this truth: God is ultimately an ineffable Mystery. Some not only take refuge in this discovery, but even collapse into it. They stop searching and ride on their limited knowledge, presuming that what they have discovered is all that can be realized. Consequently, their relationship with ineffable Mystery is rarely spoken of. I think some new members want to know that this experience of ineffable Mystery is not the dead end of the spiritual journey, but a realized source of joy in the one experiencing it; that this connection with the Divine, an experience beyond any human connection, makes a life of celibacy the only choice for them; and that it is this par-ticipation in divine life that impels them to minister to others and Reviev~ for Religious thereby have an experience, however fragile, of equanimity, integrity, wholeness. Esoterics must learn how to share their expe-rience of ineffable Mystery with the new members and admit to them that there is such a thing as the hundredfold. For some others, another type of religious experience is open, one frequently referred to as exoteric. It is the experience of a personal relationship with the

Issue 59.2 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; Celibate .Chastity: A Symposium Religious Life Questions Witnessing Hispanic Catholic Report MARCH APRIL 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 2 Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness by making available to them the spiritual legacies tbat flow from the charlsms of Catbollc consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis Univers!ty by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; "Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2000 Review for Religious Permission is herewith gianted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, arid copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ 0 ]LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Barbara J. Soete SSND James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC MARCH APRIL 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 2 con en s 118 131 139 c Oib te chastity: symposium Bowling Alone, Living Alone: Current Social Contexts for Living the Vows Mary Johnson SNDdeN couples the social context of community living with new possibilities for the meaning of the vows, particularly celibate chastity, so as to provide a radical gospel-based witness to countercultural values. Celibate Life Offers Insights Keith Clark OFMCap gives evidence that a celibate life well lived communicates to our culture a powerful message about the nature and meaning of sexuality, the unique nature of Christian marriage, and the motivation for the church's ministry. Discerning Our Celibate Way in Our Culture David L. Fleming SJ spells out some of the implications of discernment--making decisions with a lover's instinct--for living celibate chastity, which is defined as a way of loving. 148 156 What Is Religious Life's Purpose? Justin Taylor SM and Albert Dilanni SM question whether the basic purpose of religious life had been obscured long before Vatican II and still calls for clarity now. Must Hermits Work? Kenneth C. Russell provides insight into the place and value of work in the traditions of eremitical life in the Western church and draws some conclusions for today. Review for Religious 175 Mission: Not Do We Have One But Do I Live One? Rol~ert J. Murray OS~, emphasizes the need to live the valu'es reflected in mission statements for the health of the congregation. 180 188 The Easter Faith of Catherine of Siena Roland Calvert OSFS explains the paradox of Easter faith found not in Catherine's writings but in the activities of her life. Foucauld's Evolving Response tO God's Call Cathy Wright LSJ pictures the unfolding of the vocation of Charles de Foucauld and points to what it says to us about understanding our own vocations. 193 repor U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1999 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv, Eduardo C. Fernfindez SJ, and Ver6nica M~ndez RCD present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. 116 Prisms 209 Canonical Counsel: Location of the Novitiate 214 Book Reviews March-April 2000 116 ~e sometimes put more into preparing for a special event than we put into the actual celebration. We have been preparing during these past years to celebrate the new millennium--our efforts inspired by Pope John Paul II's Tertio Millennio Adveniente. Now that we have entered into the year 2000 we may find ourselves forgetful of the reason for our preparations. The bishops' conferences in many countries have identified various ways that priests, lay people, and religious may enter together into special celebrations that grace our liturgical year. Personally we are faced with the more day-to- day question: What are we doing to celebrate this jubilee year? First we need to recall for ourselves the obvious. What is this jubilee about? The heart of the jubilee year is our cherishing and rejoicing in the fact that the Word was made flesh, God became man, Jesus, Son of God and Son of Mary, was born two thousand years ago. And our world has never been the same. Each of us is called anew to our following of Jesus. How well do we know him? Despite the frequency with which we are exposed to the acronym WWJD, do we feel confident in acting out our response to the question "What would Jesus do?" The very title we proudly bear--Christian--suggests that others can expect to see in us a face of Christ, his action, his love, and his forgiveness. Perhaps, first of all, we need a renewed effort in this jubilee year to foster our friendship with Christ. As we search out the ways helpful to us for growing in our knowledge and love of Jesus (for example, spiritual reading, Bible study, prayer, Eucharist, volunteer service projects), we may find that Jesus' reference to the jubilee text in Isaiah 61 as he proclaims his own mission in Luke 4:18-19 can become our entrance into a way of celebration: Review for Religious The spirit of the Lord is upon me; therefore he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and release to prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the Lord. The context for such a mission for Jesus and so for us is "to be anointed," "to be sent." The biblical concept of jubilee involves, above all, a call from God. As we make attempts to find ways that we can celebrate, more than rushing to take on pious devotions or vol-unteer ministries, we need to listen to the call of God in our life. A litde more reflection time--listening time--is a pervading essential of a jubilee year. Jubilee and sabbath are intimately connected since jubilee is God's expansion of the sabbath rest. But rest in relation to God is not defined as inactivity; rather, sabbath centers us on taking time for our relationship with God, for enhancing that relationship. In a jubilee time we respond to God's initiative in our way of cele-brating rather than assume the initiative ourselves. Our behavior, then, would be like Jesus'--who describes himself as sent. For Jesus, the initiative is always God's. Our celebrating jubilee begins with our taking the time to be a listener, our being available to God's initiative, our making the effort to enhance our relationship with God. Just as jubilee is related to sabbath, so jubilee is also related to Sunday, the day of Jesus' resurrection. Jubilee celebrates a new begin-ning: drawing on new reserves of resources (for those who feel empty and poor), seeking new visions (for those who are blind or in the dark), enjoying new freedom (for those who suffer from feeling lim-ited and bound). The jubilee ideal for the Israelite people was spelled out in such concrete actions as returning land to original settlers, setting free the slave or servant, and letting the land lie fallow. Every action looked to a newness of life, a renewed beginning. Jesus assumed this dimension of the jubilee ideal as his mission and gave it divine meaning in his resurrection. We, the followers of Jesus and the recipients of his Spirit, continue to follow his example as we cel-ebrate jubilee: we listen to God, we follow God's lead, we imitate Jesus, we act like Christians. Maybe a jubilee year !s a time for us to confound G.K. Chesterton's witty and yet poignant judgment: "Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has not been tried." Our celebration means that we determine to act like Christians, day in day out, all year long. Th~ world around us cer-tainly would be different. We would know a jubilee. David L. Fleming SJ 117 . March-April 2000 MARY JOHNSON Bowling Alone, Living Alone: Current Social Contexts for Living the Vows celibate chastity a symposium The meaning of the vows, sociologically speaking, is drawn from the human context in which they are lived. Sociologically speaking, their significance lies, not in interior inspiration and dedication, but in how they appear different from other ways of life and ways of liv-ing. Religious vows are liv~d in many social contexts. This discussion focuses on two of them, the societal and the communal. For the first, I shall turn to Robert D. Putnam's influential article "Bowling Alone: America's Declining Social Capital" (1995). For the second, I shall refer to the provocative talk given by Sister Doris Gottemoeller RSM at the Wernersville symposium in 1998 and later published in Review for Religious (March-April 1999) and to relevant data from my recent study of women's institutes in the United States. Mary Johnson SNDdeN, an associate professor of sociology at Emmanuel College in Boston, participated in the symposium titled "Celibate Chastity: God's Invitation to Love in a Sexually Confused Culture" held 22-24 October 1999 at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in Wernersville, Pennsylvania. This and the next two articles come from that symposium. In this written version Mary Johnson has refocused her original presentation, developing and broadening the topic in the light of the subse-quent papers and discussions. Her address is Sociology Department; Emmanuel College; 400 The Fenway; Boston, Massachusetts 02115. Review for Religious Bowling Alone Harvard Professo~ Robert Putnam, in "Bowling Alone," draws a riveting picture of the result of the loosening of communal bonds across U.S. society in the last thirty years. A commentary on his research in the Chronicle of Higher Education (Heller, 1996) notes that "scores of iournalists have picked up on the implica-tions." Policy makers and government officials, too, have listened to him. Putnam has twice been invited to the White House for brainstorming sessions on the breakdown of American communi-ties. Currently he is writing a book on the subject, doing cross-national research, and participating in workshops that seek solutions to widespread civic disengagement. Putnam notes that "American social scientists of a neo- Tocquevillean bent have unearthed a wide range of empirical evi-dence that the quality of public life and the performance of social institutions (and not only in America) are indeed powerfully influ-enced by norms and networks of civic engagement." He says that these norms and networks are elements of the "social connected-ness" that constitutes the social scientific concept of "social cap-ital." He defines the concept thus: "Social capital refers to features of social organization such as networks, norms, and social trust that facilitate coordination and cooperation for mutual benefit." He continues: "For some reason, life is easier in a commu-nity blessed with a substantial stock of social capital. In the first place, networks of civic engagement foster sturdy norms of gen-eralized reciprocity and encourage the emergence of social trust. Such networks facilitate coordination and communication, amplify reputations, and thus allow dilemmas of collective action to be resolved. When economic and political negotiation is embedded in dense networks of social interaction, incentives for opportunism are reduced. At the same time, networks of civic engagement embody past success at collaboration, which can serve as a cul-tural template for future collaboration. Finally, dense networks of interaction probably broaden the participants' sense of self, devel-oping the T into the 'we.'" Putnam then provides a sweeping overview of the "declined" in social capital in the United States since the 1960s. He begins with politics. Putnam points out that, from the early 1960s to 1990, voter turnout has declined by a quarter in national elec-tions. Since 1973, attendance at town meetings has declined by a third. He states that decline is evident in studies of the numbers March-April 2000 Johnson ¯ Bowling Alone, Living Alone "attending a political rally or speech, serving on a committee of some local organization, and working for a political party." He comments on the loosening of bonds in nuclear and extended families and in neighborhoods. He continues by citing evidence of decline in religious involvement, labor union mem-bership, parent-teacher association involvement, and volunteer-ing in civic, fraternal, and women's organizations like the Red Cross, the Boy Scouts, the Shriners, the Jaycees, and the League of Women Voters. He states that, "after expanding steadily throughout most of [the 20th] century, many major civic organi-zations have experienced a sudden, substantial, and nearly simul-taneous decline in membership over the last decade or two." Putnam concludes this section of his article by referring to the metaphor in his title, which has become a symbol of the dis-integration of communal bonds in the society. He says: "The most whimsical yet discomfiting bit of evidence of social disengage-ment in contemporary America that I have discovered is this: More Americans are bowling today than ever before, but bowling in organized leagues has plummeted in the last decade or so. Between 1980 and 1993 the total number of bowlers in America increased by ten percent, while league bowling decreased by forty percent. The broader social, significance, however, lies in the social inter-action and even occasionally civic conversations over beer and pizza that solo bowlers forg6. Bowling teams illustrate yet another vanishing form of social capital." Putnam gives evidence of some countertrends: the rapid and dramatic rise in membership in certain groups like the Sierra Club, the National Organization for Women, and the American Association of Retired Persons. However, while the political clout of these organizations is considerable, the nature of involvement is vastly different from the organizations discussed previously. Putnam says: "For the vast majority of their members (Sierra, NOW, AARP, and so forth), the only act of membership consists of writing a check for dues or perhaps occasionally reading a newslet-ter. Their ties, in short, are to common symbols, common leaders, and perhaps common ideals, but not to one another. From the point of view of social connectedness, the Environmental Defense Fund and a bowling league are just not in the same category." Putnam identifies two other countertrends: the growth in non-profit organizations, and in support groups. But he argues that these do not fill the role that civic organizations do. He cites soci- Review for Religious ologist Robert Wuthnow's national, study of support groups: "Small groups may not be fostering community as effectively as many of their proponents would like. Some small groups merely provide occasions for individuals to focus on themselves in the presence,of others. The social contract binding members together asserts only the weakest of obligations. Come if you have time. Talk if you feel like it. Respect everyone's opinion. Never criticize. Leave qui-etly if you become dissatisfied. We can imagine that [these small groups] really substitute for families, neigh-borhoods, and broader community attach-ments that may demand lifelong commitments, when, in fact, they do not." Putnam has reflected on causes of and solutions to the breakdown of American communal life. He calls for reinventing community life, but, as an interview arti-cle in the Chronicle of Higher Education says, "the Internet will not do the trick. Nor will nostalgia for a vanishing America. 'Some people have interpreted what I have said as a nostalgic call to return to the 50s. That is not what I say.'" He continues: "It is not just social capital, period. It is social capital that cuts across the existing cleavages in American society. That is, it is not enough that we all start bowling again. There have to be bowling leagues in which people of different races are connecting with one another." He concludes his interview by asserting: "This is the single most important problem facing America. If we can solve this one, if we can get more people engaged in community life in contexts that respect American pluralism, many of our other problems--to begin with, our politics--will be different." Bowling teams illustrate yet another vanishing form of social capital. Beginning the Conversation Putnam's portrait of a society bowling alone has struck a deep chord in the national psyche of Americans. It has caused many to reflect on the fact that our democracy is dependent on a vibrant civic life held together by strong communal bonds. I would argue that Sister Doris Gottemoeller's article "Community Living: Beginning the Conversation" has had a similar effect. Her article has struck a deep chord in the religious psyche of Catholic sis-ters, causing many to ponder what community means to the way March-April 2000 12I Johnson ¯ Bowling Alone, Living Alone of life and mission of apostolic religious in this country. The com-munal bonds that Putnam studies appear weak in a variety of local institutions--family, neighborhood, civic organization, and the like. Both articles point us to a consideration of the quality of communal bonds in local communities of religious. The intent of Sister Doris's article is to "break the silence" about living in community. She believes that "community living may be the 'Achilles' heel' of contemporary apostolic religious life." She says, "Often the mere mention of the topic brings about an awkward silence, embarrassed dismissals, or defensive equivo-cations." She cites a number of reasons for the present silence about the discussion of community life and then raises six questions to begin the conversation: What are we talking about when we talk about community living? What is its theological basis? What can we say about a spirituality for community? What is the role of leadership in creating and sustaining community? What are some special challenges to living community life today? What can we do to renew our community life? I want to focus on the first question here since I believe that it is foundational to .further discussion. Without clear terminology, discussion can lose its way. Sister Doris offers this definition: "Community living is what happens when two or more people relate to one another in a significant, mutually beneficial, and ongoing way." She elaborates on what she means by each of these elements and then concludes that "we are tal~ng about good-faith efforts to live a principal value of religious life. With few excep-tions, it will include a common residence." Building the Structures I begin with Sister Doris's first question bechuse, while much of our rhetbric about ourselves refers to our life in community, I am not convinced that we have a commonly accepted definition. And our inability to arrive at such a definition has implications for ourselves and those who want to join us as sisters. A case in point: A front-page article in the Sunday New York Times (16 January 2000) discusses the efforts of the Sisters of Mercy of New York, New Jersey, and Brooklyn in using modern media tools (a Web site and an advertising campaign) to recruit a new generation of sisters. The article is illustrated with a graphic (recently sent to college campuses in poster form) that includes a catchy picture Revlew for Religious and caption. At the bottom are the words "Sisters of Mercy-- women religious who respond to God's call each day through ser-vice, prayer, and community life." This descriptive is similar to dozens of others used by con-gregations throughout the United States in recruitment efforts. My question now is: What do we mean when we promise new sis-ters community life, and what do they expect to receive when they come? Numbers of women interested in entering, and numbers of newer and not-so-new sisters as well, express a desire to live and pray and share household tasks and support for ministry with sis-ters under the same roof. That is their definition of "community." These women are neither statistically nor substantively insignifi-cant to the present and future of religious life. But it is clear that nowadays the definition of community is often being adapted to mean province life, congregational life, parish life, a circle of inti-mate friends, family members, prayer partners, support and prayer groups within congregations, coworkers, and national and inter-national groups. These broader (or narrower) definitions of com-munity are shared by other numbers of religious. This is a serious issue that has to be addressed. It is one more example of Putnam's finding that communal bonds that have united people to one another on the local level are disintegrating, even while new kinds of linkages are being established. This is not to say that people do not still espouse ideals. But, as Putnam found, they often do so in the abstract or at a distance, through periodic meet-ings, newsletters, or the Internet. But, we have to ask, is this level of engagement adequate to sustain a way of life and mission and to socialize the newer sisters, the majority of whom desire com-munal bonds within communities? This is also not to imply that the relationships with other groups are not important to and essen-tial for life and mission. But, as Putnam said about social con-nectedness, "the Environmental Defense Fund and a bowling league are just not in the same category." Similarly, a group of friends that meets quarterly, a prayer group that meets monthly, and a support group that meets weekly are just not in the same category as a community that lives under the same roof and inter-acts daily. Another question, whether the daily interaction of the community is life-giving, or death-dealing, is an important one, but a different one. Often the two questions are conflated, thus bringing conversation about community to a dead halt. ~larch-April 2000 Johnson * Bowling Alone, Living Alone The work of sharply defining and rebuilding community is essential to the mission and future of apostolic religious life in the United States and other nations where religious life struggles to free itself from the hegemonic hold of middle-class values. This effort is as radical as previous clear and unequivocal claims that the preferential option for the poor means the materially poor. Because many people were willing to work to prevent the word poor from being stretched to meaninglessness and the resultant loss of its prophetic power, we now have a new generation of young Catholics in the United States who claim, in a survey our research team recently conducted, that concern for the poor and the belief that God is present in a special way in the poor are essential dimensions of the Catholic faith (Dinges et al., p. 13). That work, of almost three decades ago, toward a clear and unequivocal def-inition of "the poor" has galvanized energy and commitment to the poor today, especially on the part of the young. In sociology there are dozens of uses for the term community. M1 members of the church, whether single or married, clergy or religious, find themselves embedded in all kinds of groups-fami-lies and parishes and prayer, work, neighborhood, ethnic, national, and international or global groups--which they sometimes describe as their "community." Those social networks will only increase and multiply in the years ahead as technology becomes even more sophisticated. The time seems to be right, especially in the midst of conversations about new forms of religious life, for a case to be made by those who believe that local community life with strong communal bonds is fundamental, not incidental, to apostolic religious life and its mission. This need becomes more acute in light of data given below, data I collected recently in my national study (funded by Lilly Endowment) of women's institutes in the United States. (The .publication of the data from the entire study is forthcoming.) Gathering data from apostolic, monastic, and evangelical orders, the survey was responded to by 70 percent of the women's institutes, institutes that represent 84 percent of the sisters in the United State~. The survey indicates that there are 18,052 com-munities (local houses). The vast majority are apostolic commu-nities. The unit of analysis here is the community, the local house. The table reads as follows: 49 percent of the religious houses in the United States have one sister residing in them, 20 percent of the houses have two sisters, and 9 percent have three sisters; 2 percent Review for Religious of the houses have more than 20 sisters residing in them. Community Size Percentage of houses Number of sisters 49 One 20 Two 9 Three 7 Four 4 Five 6 6-10 2 11-15 1 16-20 2 Over 20 Do these data surprise you? What explains them? How does your congregation compare? What has been lost and gained in this new configuration of houses? Surveying the sisters who entered religious life from 1966 to 1998--the post-Vatican II entrants, not a statistically or substan-tively insignificant generation--I asked the following questions. If you had your preference right now, with whom would you prefer to live? No one 8.8 percent An ecumenical group 0.7 percent An interfaith group 0.4 percent Married couple(s) 0.1 percent Single lay person(s) 0.9 percent Men and women religious 3.8 percent Sisters of my own institute 64.1 percent Children 0.2 percent Teens/young adults 0.1 percent Family members 0.3 percent Intercongregationally - 5.3 percent Combination of my sisters and one of the above 15.2 percent If you bad your preference right now, with how many sisters would you prefer to live? With none 11 percent With one other sister 14 percent With two other sisters 12 percent In a group of 4-7 sisters 45 percent In a group of 8-10 sisters 6 percent In a group of 11-15 sisters 2 percent In a group of 16-20 sisters 4 percent In a group of more than 20 sisters : 6 percent March-April 2000 ~obnson ¯ Bowling Alone, Living Alone Which of these data surprise you? What might explain these data? What further discussions do we need to have in light of these data? How do these issues of community relate to mission? What place does community hold in the life of apostolic congregations? Living in Community In light of Putnam's data, it seems that the creation of com-munal bonds is truly countercultural; that is, it goes against the prevailing value of social disconnectedness and weak, superficial, or nonexistent bonds among people and groups on the local level in the wider society. Countercultural living is one of the hallmarks of religious life. Can these issues be addressed in this light? One challenge to the conversation has to do with the social and communal contexts in which we live. The vows are not only lived within a wider society, marked by looser communal bonds and a religious life characterized by primarily monadic, dyadic, and triadic configurations. The vows are also lived against a hege-monic middle-class culture in which individualism, privatism, and materialism are cornerstones. Another challenge is the personal. Some sisters have had to move into various communal arrangements over the years because of ministry. But sometimes ministry concerns can serve to eclipse .any conversation about community. Some sisters have not been community builders or sustainers in the past. Can these issues be revisited again at this new moment? The challenge is compounded by the fact that many sisters holding key positions in the min-istries of leadership, formation work, vocation work, academia, pastoral work and counseling, national conference work, parish and diocesan work, congregational service, and so forth live alone. Can we be certain to include them in this conversation, even if we have sometimes avoided this issue altogether because they are our friends? Sometimes, when people do live with others, there seems to be a sense that, because of their work, the fewer persons living in the house, the better. Greater numbers of people are seen as deen-ergizing people for mission rather than energizing them. One hears gasps, even groans, when someone says that she lives with several sisters. Memories of the past rise up and seem to choke any attempt to talk about living with more than two other people, an arr.angement that might better accommodate needs of miriistry Review for Religious and hospitality, congregational responsibilities, household tasks, and the maintaining of "breathing room." Can we get to this level in the conversation? The inability to discuss some of these issues is all the more .troubling given the fact that the Catholic Church in the United States continues to grow. It now stands at 62 million people, the largest religious body in the nation, with 20 million of its members in their 20s and 30s. It is paradoxical that, as the church grows, the size of religious houses shrinks. At the same time, vocation and formation personnel continue to plead for more space for possible aspirants and newer sisters. Celibacy in Culture It is against the backdrop of these social and communal con-siderations that I present a brief overview of recent studies in human sexuality. The intended and unintended consequences of uncoupling the vows from community living (a phenomenon now several decades old) need, I' am convinced, to be analyzed regard-ing the mutual relationship each of the three vows has with com-munity. That is, how does celibacy shape community and community shape celibacy? How does poverty shape community and community shape poverty? And so forth. For the purposes of this symposium, we shall focus on celibacy. The studies in human sexuality point to new possibilities for the meaning of this vow: that, together with community, it can provide a radical gospel-based witness to countercultural values. Groups who live this vow well, sharing together the depth of a nongenitally expressed intimacy, give witness to one of the deep-est yearnings of this culture. The celibacy of a group gives proof to the whole society that its yearnings for intimacy can be ful-filled, that it is possible to love deeply and celibately and to do so together, without harsh lonliness. Celibate groups witness to the fact that the journey does not have to be made in isolation, that even this seemingly lonely vow is to be shared. Communities with strong communal bonds and deep celibate love witness also to a love that can cross the seemingly uncrossable social lines of gen-eration, race, and social class, to name just three. It is especially to the young that we must go with this news since they are the objects of so much manipulation about whom to love and how to love. Some of them say that because of this they are afraid to love. We, March-April 2000 127 - Johnson ¯ Bowling Alone, Living Alone whose public identities are so clearly tied to a unique way of liv-ing love, have a corporate responsibility to speak about what we have learned about love to a society paradoxically satiated by sex-ual excess and starved for intimacy. While no studies of human sexuality are perfect because of people's tendencies to overreport or underreport sexual practice, we can glean, from data collected in the following studies, some insights as to how to share the gift that has been given us. The first attempt at a systematic look at issues of human sex-uality was conducted by Alfred Kinsey. Considered a pioneer, Kinsey began his research in the 1930s, and his assertions stood for almost four decades. His work, however, was not without problems. He did not use a sample; he relied upon volunteers to serve as respondents, and so their responses were not representative of the population as a whole. In later years Masters and Johnson, too, used volunteers, involving their work in the same difficulty of being nongeneralizable. Nongeneralizable work can, however, provide important insights on other levels. Sociologist Lillian Rubin, in the United States in the late 1980s, interviewed a thou-sand people between the ages of thirteen and forty-eight about their sexual practices. One significant finding was that sexual activ-ity begins early among today's teens and that teen sexual practices are similar to those of adults. The National Health and Social Life Survey (NHSLS) of the 1990s was the first national scientific study of sexual practices. Rather than enlisting volunteers, it used probability sampling to find its respondents. A thumbnail sketch of some of the findings follows. First, there has been and increase in the level of pre-marital sex, especially among women. Over 95 percent of U.S. men and women getting married ~oday have been sexually active before marriage. One in five women have reported being forced to perform sexual acts against their will. The perpetrator was often known by the women; sometimes it was someone they loved, including their own husbands. On the other hand, only 3 percent of men reported that they had forced women to perform sexual acts. The researchers, struck by the gender gap, hypothesized' that the gap was due not only to underreporting by the men but also to their failure to recognize their behavior as coercive. The survey also found that 2.8 percent of men and 1.4 percent of women identified themselves as gay, lesbian, or bisexual. This Review for Religious stands in contradiction to the Kinsey report of 1948, wherein 10 percent of the population was estimated to be homosexual. Groups challenged the NHSLS findings, arguing that the percentages are too small. The research team responded by saying that, although larger percentages of gays, lesbians, and bisexuals are found in urban areas and in other enclaves in the United States, the survey findings reflect national, not local or regional, reality. The researchers analyzed their data according to religion and level of education. The Catholic data here indicate that the median number of sex partners since age eighteen was three. Thirteen percent of the Catholics had no sex part-ners in the previous year, 72 percent had one sex partner, 13 percent had 2 to 4 sex partners, and 3 percent had 5 or more sex partners. Which of the above findings surprise you? Which do not? How can discus-sions about sexuality improve our rela-tionship with and commitment to all of the people of God? Beyond these questions, it seems to me that further discussion on living the vows in community might be helped by the following questions: ¯ In light of the studies on human sexu-ality, how do we talk about celibacy and how do we support celibacy? ¯ What kind of norms and structures are in place in those communities which exhibit strong communal bonds? ¯ In those communities, how are the following values manifest: personal and communal prayer? celebration and mealtimes? ecological sensi-tivity? hospitality? concern for social justice and the poor? a sim-ple lifestyle? loving support? trust and joy? concern for the ministry and apostolic call of each sister~ fidelity to the call of the wider congregation and to the people of God? ¯ What are the forces, besides ministry or mission, that have pushed some people to live alone or live with their best friend? ¯ How can we resolve issues about community of the past so that we can move toward envision.ing community for the present and future? ¯ How can we unite our efforts to build strong commu-nities and to learn how to live together with the efforts of other groups, especially couples and families, who are also trying to How can discussions about sexuality improve our relationship with and commitment to all of the people of God? 129 March-April 2000 Johnson ¯ Bowling Alone, Living Alone r learn how to live together, to resolve conflicts peacefully, and to enjoy life together? ¯ How can we unite our efforts to balance ministry and community with the efforts of so many in the soci-ety who yearn for a healthier balance of work and family life? These conversations may not be easy becatise they will require crossing a major, though subtle, divide between those who see liv-ing in community as essential and those who see it as incidental. By not engaging in these conversations, however, we uninten-tionally contribute to negative effects on recruitment, retention, and mission. In the midst of wide-ranging and sometimes obfus-cating discussions on new forms of religious life, the voices of those who are committed to the radical gospel-values contained in the vowed apostolic life as it is lived in community have been eerily silent. Perhaps the time has come for many more sisters to break the taboo. References Dinges, William, Dean R. Hoge, Mary Johnson, and Juan L. Gonzalez Jr. "A Faith Loosely Held: The Institutional Allegiance of Young Catholics." Commonweal, 17 July 1998, 13-18. Gotternoeller, Doris, RSM. "Community Living: Beginning the Conversation." Review for Religious 58, no. 2 (March-April 1999): 137-149. Heller, Scott. "Harvard Professor Examines America's Fading Sense of Community." Chronicle of Higher Education, 1 March 1996, A10. Putnam, Robert D. "Bowling Alone: America's Declining Social Capital." Journal of Democracy 6, no. 1 (January 1995): 65-78. Many foreign missionaries depend upon people like you who donate subscriptions for them to Review for Religious. To start a subscription for a deserving missionary, please send $24 to: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108 To pay by credit card, phone: 314-977-7363. Review for Religious KEITH CLARK Celibate Life Offers Insights poerhaps the most countercultural statement that will come ut of this conference is its title. This may be the only gath-ering that states boldly that we live in a "sexually confused cul-ture." My experience of the past twenty years suggests that an ever increasing number of people with backgrounds in an ever widen-ing array of disciplines have attempted to pronounce the last word in just about all areas of human sexuality. We sit here and suggest that our culture is sexually confused. Audacious! I have no "last word" to offer on the topic. The most recent word I have spoken to myself is this: I want to write to the Holy Father and ask him to change the discipline of mandatory celibacy as a prerequisite for presbyteral ordination in the Roman Church. My reason is this: The witness of a celibate life well lived is thor-oughly obscured in our society, in our church, by the assumption on the part of most that those who are committed to a celibate life have made the commitment reluctantly in order to achieve the status of ordination. Since ordination does not have that much status in the eyes of most people, there is little impetus to con-sider seriously either a celibate lifestyle or ordination. The thou-sands of women and men religious who are committed to a celibate life are somehow lumped with those who are assumed to be reluc-tant celibates for the sake of some other pursuit. Keith Clark OFMCap presented this paper at a symposium titled "Celibate Chastity: God's Invitation to Love in a Sexually Confused Culture," held in October 1999 at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in Wernersville, Pennsylvania. His address is St. Lawrence Friary; 301 Church Street; Mount Calvary, Wisconsin 53057. March-April 2000 Clark ¯ Celibate Life Offers Insights I would make my request of the Holy Father not because I think celibacy has no relevance to our culture, but rather so that the celibate life well lived will better communicate to our culture what our culture so desperately needs to understand. A celibate life well lived can communicate to our culture a powerful message about the nature and meaning of human sexu-ality, the unique nature of Christian marriage, and the motivation for the church's ministry. In order to live a celibate life well, a priest or religious must engage in prayer and ministry in a way that fosters that life. These are the points I intend to develop. The Nature and Meaning of Human Sexuality To understand the nature of human sexuality, we have to go beyond exclusive concentration on the study of genetic markers, synapses in the brain, and the other fascinations of scientific explo-ration in order to understand how human beings are moved to come together in a sexual encounter and commitment. My experience suggests that I am sexual on three levels. First, I know myself to be sexual on the biological level. I have a biolog-ical sexual apparatus which works. It is entirely instinctual. And ir works no matter how I understand or misunderstand it. My bio-logical sexual apparatus is clearly designed to bring me together with a female member of my species for the purpose of making other human beings. (See the Nova series program The Miracle of Life.) The impetus I receive from my biological level to come together with another human being is pleasure. Genital sexual activity is pleasurable. I identify this impetus as my biological sex-ual urge. It can be, and is, the subject of scientific inquiry. I know myself to be sexual on the biopsychological level. In most instances, this is experienced as being sexual in an emotional way. It is that amazing level of the human being which allows one's body to affect one's psyche, and one's psyche to affect one's body. The blush in the cheeks in response to embarrassment in one's psyche is possible because of our biopsychological makeup: In terms of my sexuality, the biopsychological level is that in me which allows some things to have sexual significance for me and which, therefore, stir my biological sexual apparatus. This is the seat of romantic interest. This level of sexuality is both instinc-tual and learned. I am born with the capacity to recognize some things as having sexual significance, and I learn some things that Review for Religious have sexual significance for me. I learn these things, not because somebody sits me down and talks to me, but because of the "minute displays of emotion" (Erik Erikson) which I pick up from my sur-roundings. What has sexual significance varies from one culture to another. (See the movie Walkabout.) The impetus I receive from my biopsychological level to come together with other human beings is emotional fascination. Romantic sexual activity is exciting. I iden-tify this impetus as my biopsychological sexual drive. It can be, and is, the subject of scientific inquiry, especially today, since this level includes one's sexual orientation. Most discussions of human sexuality stop after genital sexual urges and romantic sexual drives have been spoken about. These are the levels we humans share with the higher forms of animal life. Whatever else is said about human sexuality is frequently thought to be the in the realm of religionists and ethicists, taking the form of advice and instruction on how to ride the beast which has been described in considering the biological and biopsychological levels. But, even in the higher forms of animal life, there is another level: the level of sexual need. In the animal world, the sexual need is that the species continue. This sexual need instinctually regulates or moderates the activity of the urges and drives. The biological urges and the biopsychological drives of male dogs are activated only when the need of the species can be met, when there is in the vicinity a female dog in heat. It is filling this sexual need that gives meaning to all the sexual activity. At the level of sexual need, we human beings differ from the higher forms of animal life in two ways. First, we are spiritual beings, and our personal needs are not entirely subjugated to the needs of the species. We have also a personal sexual need, that is, our need for intimacy with other human beings. Second, in human beings the sexual need for the species and the personal sexual need for intimacy do not instinctually moderate our sexual urges and drives. Because we are persons (spiritual), we have an intellect and will. We must moderate our sexual urges and drives by insight and freedom, or they will not be moderated. Because the activity of our biological urges and our biopsy-chological drives is not instinctually moderated, human beings can engage in genital and romantic pursuits without any reference to the personal need for intimacy or the need of the species to con-tinue. Thus, people have invented contraception and abortion, which divorce sexual activity from the need of the species, and March-April 2000 Clark ¯ Celibate Life Offers Insights have invented free love and sexual promiscuity as well, which divorce sexual activity from the personal need for intimacy. The gratification of people's sexual urges and drives is accepted as ade-quate meaning for sexuality. "If it feels good, do it." Urges and drives impel people to behave in ways that will fill their sense of need. If the gratification of their sexual urges and drives alone brought sexual fulfillment, ours would be the most sexually fulfilled culture in the world. In fact, human sexual activ-ity can find its meaning only in the filling of the human sexual need for intimacy. Intimacy is the "simultaneous fusing and coun-terpointing of personalities" (Erikson). It is spirit touching spirit. It is allowed to arise in human life through the dynamics of self-awareness, self-disclosure, and listening in prayer. Among the ways those dynamics can be expressed are genital and romantic pur-suits. But, among married, single, and celibate people, intimacy can arise without genital and romantic pursuits. A celibate life well lived reveals this meaning of human sexu-ality. Celibacy is not merely abstinence from genital and romantic pursuits; that by itself will not lead to personal sexual fulfillment in intimacy. A celibate life well lived is the pursuit of intimacy, sex-ual fulfillment, in ways which do not include romantic and geni-tal pursuits. It is a way of loving people, not because I am urged or driven to do so because they have sexual significance to me, but because they are deserving of love whether they appeal to me or not. The celibate man or woman stands as a support to spouses in their pursuit of intimacy, whether at the moment the spouses are romantically driven or genitally urged or not. The celibate woman or man stands as a support to all people in their pursuit of con-nectedness with other human beings for reasons quite distinct from their attractiveness to us. The Unique Nature of Christian Marriage Although a celibate commitment is most often spoken of as a distinct contrast to married life, the two states of life are intimately related within the believing Christian community. The marriage of Christians is different from the way other people marry. Christian marriage is a sacrament because it is a vis-ible sign of what cannot be seen. Christian marriage is not merely a response to the genital and romantic feelings the spouses have for each other. The commitment of spouses to each other is a com- Review for Religious mitment to be there for each other for life, no matter what. It is a sign of how fully Christ has taken us all to himself. A celibate commitment is not a sacrament: it points to some-thing that can be seen, but might not be recognized for what it is. The celibate commitment points to what is unique in the com-mitment of Christian married couples. The committed celibate within the believing community asks all people to recognize the unique basis for Christian marriage. The Motivation of the Church's Ministry in the World A committed celibate life is a lifestyle, not a ministry. That lifestyle, however, points to that which is the basis of all church ministry. The church's ministry is caring for one another within the community and taking care of our world. It is based on the min-istry of Jesus, who said, "I have come, not to be served, but to serve." Church ministry to its members and to the rest of the world is not based on the driven components of human love, nor is it merely philanthropy called for by the needs people have. It is based on Jesus' commandment to love one another as he loved us. Again, the committed celibate life points to something that can be seen (the ministry), but might not be recognized for what it is. There is, accordingly, an argument from "fittingness" to be made for a celibate commitment in the ordained ministers who preside at our Eucharists and who order the church's ministry. A church might well want to select those who will lead and order our ministry from the ranks of those who say by their lifestyle, and not just their words and actions, that ministry is about loving people for reasons other than their attractiveness to us. Prayer and Ministry, the Sources of Strength for Celibate Living The great fear ] hear from young people is that a committed celibate life would be a lonely life, while marriage is a life filled with intimacy. I think that, in general, human lives are neither lonely nor intimate. Life has lonely moments and intimate moments. Married people stand ready to enter fully and vulnera-bly life's intimate moments, and to find God there concretely. Celibate people stand ready to enter fully and vulnerably life's lonely moments, and to find God there concretely. March-April 2000 . !36- ! Clark * Celibate Life Offers Insights Let me share with you my entering a lonely moment and find-ing God concretely. I was sitting in my office in Milwaukee, prepar-ing a continuing-education report for the provincial council. I began to daydream: I was before that council, not to give a report, but to receive a new assignment. I was being congratulated on my performance in the job I was leaving, and then the provincial asked me what job I would like to do next. I said, "I really don't care. But please, gentlemen, give me a job I can do well that will have some significance in your eyes." The daydream faded, and I sat at my desk pondering what I had heard myself say to the provinci.al council. I was not pleased with what I recognized. What I had said seemed rather mean and cheap. I wondered if the approval of others might be what moti-vated much of my behavior, or all of it! I could feel myself blush at this bit of self-awareness. I was surprised at myself, and I was having a difficult time accepting myself as I now knew myself to be. I felt very fragile. But I stayed with this line of thought and emo-tion, and seemed to reach an even greater depth, where I inwardly smiled sheepishly while disclosing to God who and how I was. At that depth I realized that God was not surprised at my motiva-tion. God had known it all along. It was news only to me! And I realized that God was not having a difficult time accepting me. God had for years accepted me as I was. There was a knock at my office door. I said, "Come in." It was Jeannie, supposedly my secretary, but really the one who runs the office. She was incredibly efficient and competent. I looked at her and, for the first time, wondered whether she sometimes felt as fragile as I did. If she did, I was much more open to accept-ing her that way. I was able to connect with her more intimately than I could have before. It was as if, with the mask of my own self-sufficiency stripped away, I could see beyond the efficiency (and self-sufficiency?) of another and get a glimpse of the perhaps fragile human being who lived there. It is not only this kind of self-awareness, self-disclosure, and listening in prayer that can bring a person to a moment of intimacy with God; so can ministry. Committed celibate persons can have as many moments of intimacy in their life as any married or single people can. There remains, however, a crack in the sidewalk that celibate people might trip on. I learned about this while visiting a couple to give them a chance to talk about a Capuchin they knew and loved who Review for Religious had suddenlY left the community with the intention to marry a young woman from town. As we were preparing to have a drink at their kitchen table, Don said, "I think you and my wife ought to go sit on the porch swing and talk for a while." So we did. Mary and I had talked for a short while about Ralph's departure when she said suddenly, "You don't belong to anybody, Keith Clark, and you never should! Ralph used to belong to all of us, but now he belongs to Jennifer." I thought often about Mary's observation, and I realized that the human desire to belong uniquely to another human being is a desire which will not be fulfilled in my life. About me no one will ever say "my husband" or "my father." And even if they say "my priest" or "my Capuchin," it does not ring true. I will never belong uniquely to any human being. And this is a void where I might fall. I need to fill ~hat void by developing my sense of belong-ing uniquely to God. I find I do this most readily in ministry. I learned a lesson from the full-sized red Hawthorne bicycle that my father gave me right after World War II ended. The bicycle was too large for me. My legs were too short for my feet to reach the pedals. My father put wooden blocks on both sides of the pedals, which allowed me to reach them. Even at the young age of six or seven, I knew that to have a new bicycle was very exceptional. The "war effort" had taken most of the steel available in the nation, and production of peacetime products like bicycles was just getting underway. I knew, too, that I was uniquely the object of my father's love. He did not buy other people a bicycle; other fathers in the neigh-borhood were not buying bicycles for their children. This gift from my father was unique. It took a few lessons from my father to get me up and pedal-ing. He would run alongside me, holding on to the back of the bicycle seat until I had gotten up enough speed to keep the bicy-cle from falling over. Eventually I mastered it. The bicycle stood up well to my use and occasional abuse of it. It lasted well into my newspaper-carrier days, when we added a large basket over the front wheel. I have thought of that red bike often. It taught me a lesson about gifts and how they are to be used and enjoyed. If I had let A committed celibate life is a lifestyle, not a ministry. 137 March-April 2000 Clark ¯ Celibate Life Offers Imigbts I used to think that God gave me gifts so I could do things for other people. that bicycle stand on the front porch to be admired but not used, I do not think I would have made my father very happy. If I had waited until I had a paper route before I used it, I think my father would have been disappointed. Even telling him over and over how much I loved the bicycle and how grateful I was would, I am sure, not have been enough to please him. He gave me the bicy-cle to use and to enjoy. It was a long time before I understood that the gifts I receive from God are much like the bicycle I received from my father. I used to think that God gave me gifts so I could do things for other people. I missed the fact that my gifts are unique and that they are a sign of God's unique love for me. For a long time I was afraid to enjoy using them. Now I allow myself to enjoy using my gifts. I can listen to people and can understand a lot of what they tell me. Sometimes I can even say the needed word, the right word, in response to them. It is a gift from God. Sometimes a seminary student coming to me for spiritual direction feels much better after we have talked. When he leaves my office, I realize that I was able to hear and understand him because of the skills and talents God has given me through my life's experiences. I know that no one else could have done for that student exactly what I did. Some people could have done more than I did; oth-ers could have done something different but equally helpful. But no one could have done just what I did. I sit back and enjoy what I have just done. Then I tell God, "Thank you," knowing I am loved uniquely. Culture and Counterculture These things could be more easily understood and more inte-grally and effectively practiced if we lived in a world of real mean-ing. Until such time as our culture moves into that real world, we continue to live our lives of celibate commitment as a "value radi-ation center" (Van Kaam) so that the values of the real world do not become completely obscured by the understandings and practices of the less-than-real world in which we and others unavoidably continue to live. Review for Religious DAVID L. FLEMING Discerning Our Celibate Way in Our Culture In this third presentation of the 1999 Wernersville symposium, want to gather together the themes of the two previous pre-sentations and then point out the work ahead of us. The topic I have been given has three clear parts, from the words contempo-rary culture, celibates, and discern. Our two previous presentations have clarified our understanding of the first two terms, culture and celibates. Let me highlight several points. Mary Johnson SNDdeN has given us a snapshot picture of our culture and its attitude toward chastity. She began by pointing out difficulties in making an assessment. We, along with other peo-ple, may be overly impressed by flurries of sound-bite judgments proffered by the media or by generalizations stated by pulpit ora-tors. "All college-age students do . " "In our country everyone. ¯." Trying to go beyond impressions towards what we call factual information, we find some security in statistics and in popular polls. But, even with a carefully constructed statistical study, there remains the difficulty of overreporting or underreporting, espe-cially if the issue is a delicate one, such as sexuality and sexual behavior. For example, when reporting sexual mores, it seems that men tend to exaggerate their sexual knowledge or activity because of a macho stance, and that women tend to be reticent about sex-ual activity because of fear, shame, or a sense of propriety. Johnson stressed that there have been three significant statis-tical studies Of sexuality and sexual behavior in the United States: David L. Fleming SJ is editor of this journal. March-dlrri12000 . Fleming ¯ Discerning Our Celibate Way the Kinsey studies in the 1950s, a much smaller but somewhat more sophisticated study at the beginning of the 1990s, and the apparently best-balanced report from the mid 1990s. From these reports we learn something about behavior patterns in our times. When certain reported behaviors surprise or shock our own sense of morality and that of our church, we must be careful that our first response is not to deny the evidence. Once we take note of that caution, what might we observe about the value and living of celibate chastity as reported in our contemporary culture? In the current U.S. culture, we have widespread evidence that sexual activity is no longer considered to be restricted to marriage. Because of the easy avail~ibility of contraceptive pills and condoms, sexual activity is no longer tied to the possibility of pregnancy; rather, it is considered just one more among desirable and plea-surable human activities. A more frightening result of this atti-tude equating sexual activity with recreational pleasure is the easy and frequent acceptance of abortion. We are not surprised that in the reporting of behaviors we note a true gender gap. Men readily report that the woman is a consensual partner, whereas women indicate that they feel pres-sured or coerced by the male. Statistics, then, provide evidence of a gender gap, especially in reading the other sex's behavior signals. In our culture there is a great deal of confusion around the terms intimacy and sexuality. Often the two are identified. But sex-uality can be acted out with little sense of intimacy. Intimacy, on the other hand, does not need to be expressed sexually. Young peo-ple, especially, are looking for intimacy and use sexuality as its mistaken route. Studies give evidence of this behavior pattern. What does celibacy or celibate chastity mean to people in our U.S. culture? It is evident that the celibate vocation is not esteemed or looked upon as a kind of ideal. Rather, in our times, it more readily signifies, especially for large numbers of young adults, sexual dysfunction or pedophiliac tendencies or stunted personality growth. We must be aware, then, that our contem-porary culture has little regard for chastity or celibacy. Its sign value has to be significantly rethought and expressed anew in order to be seen and understood for what it is and what we who live it want it to be. In his turn, Keith Clark OFMCap presented a contemporary picture of the meaning and living of chastity and celibacy. Chastity is the pursuit of consistent behaviors--for marriage, one set of Review for Religious behaviors, and for those professing celibate chastity, another set of behaviors. We need to look at the sexual makeup of the animal species, acknowledge the commonalities we have as human beings, and then carefully pay attention to how we humans go beyond the reproductive drive and mating seasons common to the animal species. We realize our human need for insight into sexual behav-ior and for our exercise of freedom in regard to it. Once again we note that there is the human need for intimacy and that this is not identical with genital activity. Clark stated clearly his notion of celibacy. "A celibate life well lived is the pursuit of intimacy, sexual fulfillment, in ways which do not include romantic and genital pur-suits." Celibacy as a Christian vocation means that we pursue a way of loving people, not because we are so urged or driven, but because people are deserv-ing of love. They are children of God. Both presentations stressed the importance of "norms" for appropriate behaviors in living celibate chastity in a community or group lifestyle. Cultures as large as an ethnic group and as small as a particular religious congregation have developed their own parameters for acceptable behaviors in connection with the affectio~is. These cultures get expressed in norms that guide the consistent behavior of group members. Members of a group have a responsibility to observe the norms expected of participants. We who live celibate lives as members of a priestly order or as members of a religious congregation need to have norms that are agreed as guides for the behavior expected of the whole group. After looking at our contemporary culture with the help of Johnson and getting, with Clark's guidance, a sense of a con-temporary expression of lived celibate chastity, we focus now on the word discern, which is meant to be the connective between the two terms. How do we discern the living of celibate chastity in our culture? What is it to discern? I believe that celibacy, properly under-stood, has a necessary connection with the ability to discern. Celibacy or celibate chastity understood in a Christian manner is a way of loving, a way of relating to others. It is not enough to Members of a group have a responsibility to observe the norms expected of participants. March~April 2000 Fleming ¯ Discerning Our Celibate Way say that celibacy means not being married or that to be chaste means just not engaging in or enjoying sexual activity. It is not enough to equate celibacy with a certain ritual purity. To limit our chastity ideal to these kinds of description fixes us in a pagan or pre-Christian understanding. Sad to say, many older explanations about the vow of chastity, and some contemporary ones too, could well have been written by a good pagan. Celibacy cannot be ade-quately defined in terms of what it is not or what it lacks. Celibacy is understood and lived in terms of what it is and does. Celibate chastity describes a way of loving, loving the way that Jesus loved. Because celibacy is a way of loving, there is a true sense that we are always growing in our life of loving celibately. We cannot lose our chastity; we never "had" it so that we could lose it. We are always growing into being a chaste lover, a lover like Christ. We grow in our loving chastely, or we find ourself becoming less of a chaste lover. We make choices of behaviors that enhance our life-direction (which is meant to be a growing more and more to love as Jesus loves), or we find ourself slipping (all too humanly, through selfishness or focus on self) into more and more limited ways of loving. We do not need to be a loving person to make a decision. Individualism rampant in U.S. culture is the seedbed of a lot of decision making. Even in religious life we sometimes hear glowing reports about the new growth in our understanding of the vow of obedience based on human decision making. We say that we have moved from a kind of infantile dependence to a relationship where authority's only role is to support the individual's decision. Yet, if we understood how obedience and chastity are intertwined, and that discernment is not possible where love is not involved, then we might not be so self-satisfied with our own share in the indi-vidualistic decision making often observable in religious life. Evaluated from a religious point of view, personal decision making is not deserving of praise if love of God has had no play in it. Discernment and obedience can be understood and practiced only by one who loves. Perhaps questions about authority/obedience are more about the love quality of religious life than about respon-sible decision making. When people make decisions about sexual activity, they can decide to use this person for their pleasure. They can decide that treating someone in this sex-object way is what pleases them. What they want to do and what feels good decides their choices in this Review for Religious typical American individualistic stance. People live as though they are the center of their world, and this stance acts as the foundation of their choices. In order to discern, however, we need to be a loving person, one who lives in an expansive (always open to other people's inter-ests) world. People who are caught up in an individualistic way of thinking and acting are incapable of making a discernment. Why? Because discernment is a sensitive listening to God speaking to us through interior movements, that is, feelings and inspirations. Discernment is a lover's instinct. Probably most of us have had the expe-rience of this kind of interior commu-nication between ourself and a close friend. No words are spoken, but a lot gets communicated. When persons are dear to us, we know what pleases them and what annoys them. We listen, not to any externally spoken words, but to the person, and we can respond instinctively--if we are people who love. ls this kind of sensitivity, so familiar to us in our human loves, possible between God and ourself?. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, it has always been recog-nized that discernment is a gifting of God. St. Paul identifies dis-cernment as a special gift to members of the Christian community through Christ's sending of the Spirit. A number of holy men and women have shared their insights into the gift of discernment, how to pray for it, how to grow as a discerning person, and how to make a decision-making process a true discernment. St. Ignatius Loyola especially is renowned for the practical application of dis-cernment procedures for an understanding of What spirit is mov-ing us and for a method of coming to a decision through such a discernment of spirits. Discernment is about making practical life-dealing decisions not just with prayerful prudence, but with our will attuned to the will of God our Father. We are trying to love the way Jesus loved. Jesus prayed a lot; he prayed in order to deepen his relationship with God and so to express his love. The dialogue of prayer is a dialogue of love. Prayer is not discernment, but without prayer there is no discernment. Why? Because discernment is a grace given to a lover. VCe see it clearly in Jesus. Discernment marks Jesus' choices. In the crisis moment in Gethsemane, Jesus in agony Discernment remains always a gift, a growing in a lover's sensitivity. 143- Marcia-April 2000 Fleming ¯ Discerning Our Celibate Way pours out his prayer and in love can say, "Not my will, but yours be done." One who loves has a sense of, a feel for, what pleases the one who is loved. To be a discerning person means that we must be a free person: free of self-will, free of prejudice, free of being locked into doing what is expected (to be accepted, to save face, and so on). We see this freedom in Jesus. Discernment remains always a gift, a growing in a lover's sensitivity, just as Jesus grew in his sen-sitivity to his Father's will up to the end: "Into your hands, I com-mend my spirit." In other words, we never just "have" discernment, as it were, as our possession. We need always to acknowledge dis-cernment as a dynamic grace or gift. As Jesus' special gifting of the Spirit to us, his followers, discernment is always to be rever-enced, esteemed, and lived in our choices. Discernment affects our living of celibate chastity on three levels: (1) the body or the physical, being at home with our sexual makeup; (2) the soul or the psychological, being at home with our affections; and (3) the spirit or the spiritual, being at home with God. Let me develop each of these levels. 1. As people who are trying to love as Jesus loves, we need to love our own incarnation, that is, we must love our own bodili-ness. Acceptance of our sexuality helps us to be like Jesus. For Jesus was sexual and celibate and a man who loved. Jesus is so much at home with his body that he keeps it with him forever. And that is his promise of resurrection for us. To be at home with our body, then, is a Christian attitude to grow in and to deepen. We make the choice to love the body that God gave us. In our culture we know how much we try to run from or deny the failings connected with bodiliness, for example, the whole process of aging. With a cul-ture that wallows in sexuality, especially its genital aspects, we may think that our countercultural stance should be to run from or deny our own sexuality in order to bd the good celibate. But our Christian viewpoint sees sexuality and the way it shapes our relat-ing and our loving, all our life long, as a gift of God to us. Living in gratitude for God's gift, we find that being at home with our own body is the only way for us to love as Jesus loves. 2. We celibates must also be at home with our affectivity. There is no such thing as loving in the abstract; we love the flesh-and- blood people that come into our lives. To love in general is not to love at all. Yet, when we try to love the people that God brings into our life, we find difficulties with the way they dress, the way they talk, even the way they sexually attract us or not. I have always Review for Religious admired the healthy quality of the bawdiness found in Chaucer or in Shakespeare as representative of the peoples of their times. We--especially people vowed to chastity--need to laugh at our affective responses sometimes so embarrassing to us and so little under our control. We may even be surprised at a sexual response we feel in prayer or even at communion time. This is the moment to recall that we are God's creation, enfleshed, with all its humor, distress, and bedazzlement. We thank him for being the ones in whom he delights. We need to give over anew the whole of our life to God and so not let our discerning focus get distracted on self. Always we as celibates--a unit of body, soul, and spirit--need to own and not to deny our affections. We must be in touch with how affective or not we are naturally, from family upbringing, community customs, and ethnic culture. Whatever the limits of what we have inherited, we--growing by the grace of our celibate calling as sensitive lovers--gradually learn how to make various appropriate adaptations. Does Jesus ever seem frozen in the face of others' affective love, whether expressed by Mary Magdalen or by the beloved disciple? Think of John lean-ing on Jesus' chest at the Last Supper or of Mary Magdalen's fierce bearhug in the resurrection garden scene. Growing always in a lover's sensitivity is especially to be valued by a vowed celibate who desires to relate affectively to all. Married couples teach each other how to make love all their lives long. We as celibates must keep our eyes on Jesus in order to keep growing in our way of loving. Our prayer should lead us deeply into the Gospels so that Jesus keeps teaching us how to love. Our being affective people, or not, affects our ministry. In fact, there is little exaggeration in saying that ministry without. affectivity is useless in terms of evangelization. We may be able to do "good things," but for what.purpose if we do not touch peo-ple with love from a God who is Love? 3. We Catholics are fortunate because we understand that God loves us in affective ways. Our Scriptures, our sacraments, our prayers speak out God's way of loving us in the most tender of human expressions. Even more, God loves us in intimate ways. This good news we bear in our very persons as loving celibates: We as celibates must keep our eyes on Jesus in order to keep growing in our way of loving. March-April 2000 Fleming * Discerning Our Celibate Way God wants to be intimate with us. Our spiritual life is a life of love, intimate love with God. Two examples from Scripture bring this fact home to us. I am indebted to the late Father Carroll Stuhmueller CP for his long-time insistence on the meaning of the Hebrew word rahamin. In the Old Testament, especially in the prophetic writings, God is often described in English translation as merciful, tender-hearted, or compassionate. These words attempt to signify the meaning of rabamin. The Hebrew word seems best understood in this way: the feeling that a mother has for the child in, and of, her womb. God wants us to know that the relationship he has to each of us is like the feeling a mother has for the child of her womb. What is this feeling? Is it pity or mercy? No, it is one of pride and 10ve for the child of the womb. That is how God feels towards us. God loves us and takes pride in us. We cannot deny the intimacy of this Hebrew word. That kind of intimacy God claims towards us. We celibates are meant to find a home in this love. In a more theological way I would like to reflect upon the word covenant. Perhaps we are familiar with the covenants of Middle Eastern people of whom the Israelites were a part. A covenant is an agreement between two parties (usually unequal), and the expectation involves certain ways of acting toward each. Covenant is a central theme of the relationship between God and his chosen people. The biblical covenant that God established was marked according to the Semitic cultural tradition by the ritual of killing an animal and sprinkling its blood upon the altar (rep-resenting God) and upon the Israelite p.eople. The blood was a symbol of life, not death; the sprinkling of blood on the altar and on the people signified the familial union. The action said: We share the same blood. When Jesus on the night before he died wanted to establish a new covenant, he retained the same symbol: blood. But it is his own blood that Jesus gives, his flesh for our food and his blood for our drink. This blood is life-giving and makes us who feed on his Body and his Blood belong to the same bloodline as God. Jesus could not make it any clearer that we truly are brothers and sisters to one another; we share the same blood, Jesus' blood, the blood of the Son of God. We call upon Jesus truly as our brother, and together with him we call God Abba-Father. The reality of this new covenant is an intimacy of unity, Jesus God bringing us into the very life of the Trinity. As celibates, day after day in our Review for Religious Eucharist we come forward with hands stretched our to receive and to be taken in by the most intimate love of God, a God embracing us into the divine life of love. What distinguishes us who are called to a life of celibate chastity? We are called to a special way of loving. When we celi-bates are truly at home with our bodies (with our sexuality), with our affections (with our soul), and with our spirit (God's Spirit, now ours), we are free to be the discerning people who, in a sex-ually confused culture, live God's invitation to celibate chastity peacefully, happily, and apostolically. The Silence That Is Not Silence at All Unobtrusive as dawn, the lake balances perfectly between East and West. An early hiker rounds the corner, headset clamped on. Juncoes tsk tsk and give way. Starlings catcall. Merganser, all white hood, skims a straight arrow line, alights with a velvet swoosh pursues prey through clear water soundless. Lichen stained alders circle the shore, haloed with smudges of alizarin catkins. Aments upon aments. A Lent retreatant, I come for the annual fast from stimulation, rededicate to silence or at least to the diminishment of stimulants. Make way for tumult. Here are the Big Ego geese. Indignant honking, they want to be noticed. Chest beating, a squall of identity. Hannah J. Main-van der Karnp March-April 2000 147 --- JUSTIN TAYLOR AND ALBERT DIIANNI What Is Religious Life's Purpose? For thirty-five years since Vatican Council II, we have constantly ?asked questions about identity: What does it mean to be a religious, a monk, a Dominican, a Jesuit, a Marist? It might then seem superfluous to ask about the purpose of religious life. But it is our conviction that pre-cisely this question must receive a more adequate answer before we can come to proper conclusions about how to structure our religious life and truly renew its spirit. The main goal of religious life is to place God at the center of our lives. That is the meaning of religious consecration, and it is best symbolized in the vow of chastity, in which we make a gift of our very hearts to God. Religious consecration is all about the service and worship of God, about affective and effective love of God for God's sake. Religious life is a way of being with ¯ God that takes the form of a gift and an act of worship. It evokes the image of St. Francis lying prostrate on the ground throughout the night calling out repeatedly, "My God and my all,." In other words, religious life needs to Justin Taylor SM, a Marist priest from New Zealand who resides at the Ecole Biblique in Jerusalem, does teaching and writing on biblical topics and on spirituality. Albert DiIanni SM wrote for us in 1993 and 1996; his address is Marist Vocation Office; 27 Isabella Street; Boston, Massachusetts 02116. Review for Religious be religious, and this means that it must be theocentric. Religion can be about many things, but first and foremost, as Hegel said, "religion is about God." This may seem to go without saying. But we are saying it and stressing it because we all tend to substitute something else for the love of God. Nothing else will do, not even love of neighbor. The question we ask is: Have we not, long before Vatican II and after it as well, tended to substitute--for a focus on the glory and love of God--either a personal ascetical spirituality or a social morality? We grant, of course, that both morality and asceticism find their place in religion, but we maintain, too, that religion cannot be totally or even primarily reduced to them. Could it be that this tendency to substitute something for religion--whether it be self-improvement or the improvement of other individuals, society, and the world--is what underlies the malaise we currently perceive in religious life? We stress that this problem does not arise out of Vatican II. It already existed before Vatican II and may have caused what the council had to say about religious life to be misunderstood. It is a problem that lies deeper than the distinction between traditional-ists and so-called "change-oriented" religious. Both of these groups, as we shall see, may have given way to the very same error. In her recent book The Fire in These Ashes, Joan Chittister insists that the sole purpose of religious life is "only to seek God" (p. 45). She writes: "We have too often been seduced., by other explanations for religious life, all of them valuable and all of them true to a certain degree. We have sought to be 'relevant.' We have set out to be 'incarnational.' . We have given ourselves untiringly to the 'option for the poor.' We have devoted our-selves to 'the transformation of social structures.' We have evan-gelized and renewed and revised and reformed until we dropped from exhaustion. And all of those commitments are good and necessary and worthy of attention. But, through it all, one thing and one thing only can sustain religious life, can nourish reli-gious life, can justify religious life: The religious must be the person who first and foremost, always and forever, in whatever circumstance, seeks God and God alone, seeks God and God alone in all of this confusion, in all of this uncertainty and, what-ever the situation, seeks God--and God alone." She concludes: "Otherwise, religious life is just one more social institution to be succeeded by social institutions after it, rather than centers March-April 2000 149 Taylor and Dilanni ¯ Reli~ous Life's Purpose of contemplation where, we can hope, the mind of God can touch the mind of humanity" (p. 47). "A center of contemplation where the mind of God can touch the mind of humanity"--is this not a beautiful definition of reli-gious life? For Joan Chittister, contemplation of God is the pri-mary center and focus of religious life. But she is not thinking of a selfish, isolated sort of contemplation cut off from society or the world. Rather, for her, contemplation of God has an effect upon the mind of humanity, changes it and urges it to become engaged in the task of approximating the kingdom of God on earth in works of peace and justice, especially in favor of the poor and the marginalized. This call to contemplation, which is now being stressed by many authors, indicates that the crisis of religious life is deeper than people think. It is rooted in a crisis of faith. By this we mean that there has been a change not only in the depth and intensity of our faith, but also in its actual content. And this is hardly new. It has been present in the church for a long time, as attested by Henri Bremond in his Histoire litteraire du sentiment religieux en France, a magisterial eleven-volume study of mysticism in France in the 17th century. Bremond did not write with a view to commenting on religious life in the 20th century, but his volumes are full of relevant insights. Bremond (an ex-Jesuit turned diocesan) keeps coming back to one particular issue: Why, throughout the period of which he writes, was the Jesuit mainstream in France especially, antimystical? Why, with the notable exception of Louis Lallemant and his school, did the Jesuits begin to focus their spirituality more and more away from God and more and more toward the human? In the course of his writing, Bremond suggests some more or less peripheral reasons, but in the end he expresses a suspicion that the Jesuits, even in the 17th century, were intuitively sensing a crisis of faith. They were sniffing the presence of an incipient atheism in their contemporaries and perhaps in their own hearts. They were beginning to fear, at least subconsciously, that the pure love of God as the chief reason for a devout life was not going to motivate people of their time and place much longer. This, suggests Bremond, is the reason why they felt the need to recommend prayer not so much as adoration and thanksgiving before God, but especially as a means of growth in virtue, a means to inoral and ascetical self-improvement, a way to ensure one's personal eternal salvation. Review for Religious It is clear that this crisis of faith is not restricted to the Society of Jesus in the time of which Bremond writes. The same crisis has continued in a perhaps even stronger fashion in the 20th century. Both before and after Vatican II, religious have tended to recom-mend religious life to the world--and perhaps to themselves--in terms of what it could "do for" themselves or for others. Religious life was considered legitimate and desirable because it was useful, however that usefulness might be conceived, whether in terms of a surer way for the individual to attain tleaven or in terms of a service to society. Both of these stances, however, place religion and religious life on a less-than- full theocentric plane. Viewed in this way, the crisis of faith did not begin in the post-Vatican II era. It was in full swing well before the 1960s, but at that time social and ecclesial structures and a gen-eral feeling of success (at something) kept people going. Once those supports were taken away or seri-ously weakened, its real proportions were revealed. It has been said that, before Vatican II, religious used to "skip the world" and focus too heavily on our individual other-worldly salvation. This is a legitimate criticism if properly understood. To the extent that there was overemphasis on our individ-ual otherworldly salvation, religious life was already ¯ anthropocentric or egocentric, and not theocentric. For a program of self-improvement, even in view of obtaining eternal life, is not specifically Christian, but broadly Stoic. The concentration on obtaining eternal life even became obsessive for a number of people, and priests in confessionals encountered peo-ple so absorbed in themselves and their salvation that they became paralyzed by scrupulosity. For this and for other reasons, an under-standable dissatisfaction set in with regard to a form of devout life whose focal point was one's own perfection. Unfortunately, however, the remedy that was often prescribed compounded the ailment. In line with the self-improvement ten-dencies, the constitutions of many religious congregations before Vatican II propounded a twofold goal for religious life: saving one's own soul and saving the souls of others. After Vatican II, the notion of salvation was expanded beyond an eschatological salvation to include also, and at times almost exclusively, the liberation of peo-ples or the social betterment of humankind. Neither of these This call to contemplation indicates that the crisis of religious life is deeper than people think. I51-- March-April 2000 Taylor and Dilanni ¯ Religious Life's Purpose focuses, however, whether on personal improvement and salva-tion or on social liberation, is properly religious in the sense of having to with the worship and love of God. Neither of them makes God the pivotal center of our lives. If this is true, where should we seek the remedy? If there has been a shift in our faith in this century and before, what then should be the content of our faith? We believe that the religious hunger is ultimately the hunger for transcendence or, more con-cretely, the hunger for God. It is a hunger which, in fact, is often felt most keenly by the poor. The world points to something beyond the world: its Author. Our first response to the world must be gratitude toward the author of that world--paying homage to God. Religious are called to be involved totally with God, to be bridges to others to enable them, not to negate this world, but to transcend it and reach God. The world is extremely important-- the Word became incarnate for the sake of the world--but in itself it is still not enough for us, us of the restless heart. In whatever manner we decide to refashion religious life, we must not lose this central insight, which is at the heart of the religious quest. The "kingdom of God" promoted by the Jesus of the synoptic Gospels certainly demands an effort on our part to improve the world, but it also involves a transcending of the world, and this transcen-dence will consist, as always, in union with God. In fact, without such a reference to the Transcendent, it is questionable whether an urgency to improve the world has sufficient meaning. Again, with Joan Chittister, "The religious must be the person who., seeks God, and God alone" and--we could add, with Vita consecrata (§3, §20)--helps other members of the church in their search for God. It is in this latter task of spurring others on to transcendence that some form of identifying religious garb has its importance. St. Thomas Aquinas asks why religious congregations are called "religious." Our reflections thus far have perhaps prepared us to understand and receive his answer: "Religion is the virtue by which we perform the service and worship of God. Hence, reli-gious are so called because they dedicate themselves totally to the service of God, as if offering God a whole-burnt sacrifice" (Summa theologiae, 2a-2ae, q. 186, a. 1). Here Thomas speaks of a "virtue of religion," a kind of habit. This habit of mind, heart, and action has to be part and parcel of every genuine approach to God, for it is basically about awe in the presence of the "tremendous and fas-cinating mystery." "This tremendous lover" is what Francis Review for Religious Thompson called Christ, and the adjective is striking. It refers to a lover who fills us not with fear but with awe. Our response to God is one of wonder, adoration, and gratitude in the face of a Love that bends down to us, a love that is gratuitous and that we did not merit. What makes religious life distinct from other forms of Christian life (granted that there is no complete cut-off, but many a gradation) is that it is a way of life which is organized and centered on the.service and worship and love of God and which would make no sense on any other terms. From a worldly point of view, it might even be called a useless life; it is worthless except to the eyes of faith. We believe, with Vita consecrata, that chastity is at the heart of the matter. Chastity is the baseline of religious consecration, not primarily a way of being freed for ministry, although it is also that. Through it we consecrate to God our hearts and our sexual-ity, our capacity to love and be loved, and our capacity for repro-ducing ourselves and so assuring a sort of afterlife. It is therefore the point at which the service and the love of God meet in the center of the consecrated person. Religion, as a virtue, is not the same as charity, so that serving and worshiping God are not specifically the same as loving God. But the two are very close, and both are needed. Without love, religion quickly becomes fanaticism; without awe before God, love can be too facile and presumptuous. In the golden age of French spirituality in the first half of the 17th century, the great masters differ a little on where they place the emphasis, St. Francis de Sales placing it on love and Pierre de B~rulle on religion. In any case, they agree that religious life is essentially theocentric. St. Thomas's "whole-burnt sacrifice" strikes the note of throwing all of oneself into a life given to God in a fire of generosity. Abandoning calculation and self-service, a person stakes all on the single-hearted quest of God, and God alone. That is a goal in the pursuit of which a life is well lived and the world well lost. The above remarks raise at least two questions about love of God which require some discussion. We are speaking of a "pure love of God." But is it possible to love God selflessly, for God alone, and not for ourselves? Not in the sense that I could leave myself totally out of any act of the will: whatever I will, I will also as my own good. But it is possible in the sense that there can be a degree of selfless love in an act of the will, and that this selfless love can grow in future acts. In praying I make all sorts of different March~April 2000 Taylor and Dilanni ¯ Religtous'ous L~Life's Purpose "acts," including petition for myself and others. But what makes prayer (any prayer) true prayer, and love of God true love, is that overriding everything else is the love of God for God's sake, the willing of God's good, and the ultimate submission of my will to God's. And that is "pure love." Note that this is not something rare and extraordinary. Selfless love is part of every authentic human love. It is part of the Lord's Prayer, where we say: "Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done." In any genuine human love, I will love the beloved without thinking of my own good and even, at times, to my apparent detriment. M1 lovers would deny the name of "love" to a mere desire to get their own satisfaction. In every true love there is selfless devotion toward the beloved, that is, "pure love," some-where. And selfless devotion, it seems, has always been the touch-stone of a religious life properly lived. The second question concerns the relation between the two commandments of love of God and love of neighbor. Above we wrote that not even love of the neighbor can be substituted for love of God. Love of the neighbor does not replace love of God; it does not even, strictly speaking, express love of God. God is to be loved for God's sake. On the other hand, love of the neighbor is the acid test of the genuineness of our love of God. St. John's for-mulation could not be bettered: "Those who say, 'I love God,' and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen cannot love God whom they have not seen" (1 Jn 4:20 NRSV). To remove all excuse for illusion on this topic, the Letter of James (2:15-16 NRSV) affirms th~it a mere sentiment of goodwill is not enough: "If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, 'Go in peace, keep warm, and eat your fill,' and yet you do not supply them their bodily needs, what is the good of that?" If love of the neighbor is not a substitute for love of God, the reverse is also true. Loving God does not give us an excuse for not loving our brothers and sisters, really and concretely. Christians are called to live for the glory of God and not pri-marily for their own good, not even for their own salvation here or in eternity. The emphasis has to be on the primacy of the love of God. The truth is, however, that the more genuinely we love God, the deeper and more effective will be our love of neighbor, especially the poor and the unloved. The great lovers of God--that is to say, the saints--have been those who have done. most in the Review for Religious way of love and service of their brothers and sisters. There is no risk that following the call to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind will distract us from serving others or from working for justice in the world. Rather, when we go to God, we find One who loves justice and who is on the side of the poor and the weak. This God demands that we too pursue justice and come to the aid of the needy. In loving God we go outside of ourselves in a radical way. We encounter the transcendent Being who loves the created world and invites us to become active within it. There is no competition between the two commandments of love, but rather reciprocity. If love of the neigh-bor is the acid test of love of God, love of God overflows into love of neigh-bor and makes it truly love. For jus-tice without love may quickly become tyranny, while mere "humanitarian-ism" may become bureaucratic, offi-cious, and quite unloving. On the other hand, love of God makes love of neighbor tenderhearted, generous, and selfless. For, in our living communion with God, we discover that God loves us all and that for this reason we must love others and strive to bring peace and justice into the world. What is.the upshot of all this? What does it mean in practical terms? If all this is true, it may mean that the ongoing renewal of religious life needs to be reviewed. It may mean that we must go back to the drawing board and ask ourselves whether we have made changes on the basis of an inadequate notion of the purpose of religious life. It may mean that, while many good things have occurred in terms of a structural renewal of our lives, the spiri-tual renewal is yet to begin--one that may cause us to take a sec-ond look at those structures. Our structures of prayer, our living of the vows, and our community life must be fashioned so that, primarily, they foster our love for God. To achieve this we must grapple with this question: .Are we perhaps in need of a shift in our faith, one that moves away from the many forms of anthro-pocentrism of the last few centuries, and centers religious life more directly on the pure love of God? Chastity is the point at which the service and the love of God meet in the center of the consecrated person. March-April 2000 KENNETH C. RUSSELL Must Hermits Work? Maust hermits work to earn their living? Must they leave side their regime of silence and prayer to earn money, even though this is a Catch-22 situation, with solitude calling them away from society and work drawing them back into it? By taking a job, manufacturing a product, or providing a service, they trou-ble themselves with any number of people so as to have enough income to get away from people and indulge their own hermit's desire to be alone and untroubled. Are they not then better off depending on some form of fixed income, on the largess of the religious congregations to which they may belong, or on the charity of the faithful? It would seem so. But is this kind of dependence legitimate? What does the his-tory of the eremitical life in the Western church say about this? How do the principal texts on the solitary life deal with the eco-nomic, psychological, and spiritual aspects of work? What features remain constant in the tradition? What shifts take place? In this brief overview, which makes no claim to be complete, we begin with the teachings of the pioneers in the Egyptian desert as these are recorded in the alphabetical collection of Sayings of the Desert Fathers and in John Cassian's Institutions and Conferences. We then turn our attention to a few representative medieval texts, primarily from the 12th century, a period marked by a widespread revival of the eremitical life. Kenneth C. Russell last wrote for us in November-December 1998. His address remains 40 Landry Street, Apt. 1505; Vanier, Ontario; t~6~ K1L 8K4 Canada. Review for Religious The Sayings of the Desert Fathers Although the classical picture of the hermits in the Egyptian desert as hardscrabble peasants used to a tough life has been chal-lenged of late, it seems clear that, whatever the truth about their social status and educational background, they earned their keep by the work of their hands. The Sayings tell us that the solitaries plaited ropes (Sayings 184, 39), made baskets (105, 1) and hired themselves out as laborers to bring in the harvest (82, 47; 191, 2).' At least one monk strung necklaces of small dried peas to pay for his food. We are told that Abba Serinus spent his time harvest-ing, sewing, and weaving (191, 2). The monks worked because they had to. They did not share the conviction of the excessively spiritual groups of the time that considered work to be below the dignity of those called to per-petual prayer. Several stories seem to satirize the "angelic" atti-tude of these Messalians, as they were called. One concerns Abba John the Dwarf, a prominent desert figure, who in his youth announced to his brother his intention of living a carefree life of ceaseless prayer like the angels who do no work. After a week he was back knocking on his brother's door, hungry and begging to be let in. When this brother, in no hurry to admit him, got around to answering the door, he told young John: "You are a man and you must once again work in order to eat" (73, 2). The same point is driven home in the story of a monk who, while visiting a small eremitical community, sees the brothers working hard and cautions their leader, Abba Silvanus, not to seek "the food which perishes" (John 6:27). Silvanus allows him to spend the day reading, but does not summon him to dinner. When the hungry monk asks why he was not called, the elder answers: "Because you are a spiritual man and do not need that kind of food. We, being carnal, want to eat, and that is why we work" (187, 5). In these words of practical economy, it is obvious that work not only feeds the monk but keeps him grounded in the real-ity of the world and human nature. The Egyptian hermits lived apart from society, but they were not disconnected from the larger world. A brother was advised by Abba Poemen to do some manual labor "so as to be able to give alms" (148, 69). This readiness "to work for charity's sake" (87, 4) also set the Egyptian monks apart from the Messalians or Euchites, who regarded themselves as the most fitting recipients of any handouts. March-April 2000, Russell * Must Hermits In one story some Euchite monks answer Abba Lucius's query about what kind of work they do by announcing, rather smugly it seems, that they do not touch manuhl labor, but obey Paul's instruc-tion to pray without ceasing. Lucius asks how perpetual their prayer can really be if they must interrupt it to eat or sleep. For his part he demonstrates that work and prayer are not incompatible and shows how his charity toward the poor fills the gaps in his own prayer schedule. "When I have spent the whole day working and praying, making thirteen pieces of money more or less, I put two pieces of money outside the door and I pay for my food with the rest of the money. He who takes the two pieces of money prays for me when I am eating and when I am sleeping" (102, 1).2 But work that enables a monk to support himself and make a contribution to the well-being of others can also prove a distraction. What is supposed to support the spiritual life can become an end in itself (64, 10). It can assume an importance it does not deserve (44, 1 I). This is surely why Abba Silvanus threatens to leave his little community when his disciples and some other brothers move the fence to enlarge the garden (188, 8). This story also implies that at some point work becomes a guarantee of security, which challenges the hermit's dependence on divine providence. Abba Serinus, who worked at a number of tasks, avoided this trap by insisting that "in all these employments, if the hand of God had not sustained me, I should not have been fed" (191, 2). In the same vein, Silvanus is confident that as long as he does his part God will provide (188, 9). Given the tendency of work to become a goal in itself, it is not surprising that when a monk asks Abba Biare what he must do to be saved, the elder advises him to reduce his appetite, dwell in his cell, and reduce his quota of manual work (37, 1). Any kind of work can upset a hermit's life if it assumes too great a place in it. But certain kinds of work were regarded as essentially distracting. Agriculture per se was considered an exte-riorizing activity that draws a monk's attention away from God. Even the gardening that is mentioned in the Sayings was suspect. It was, at best, on the borderline of the acceptable. When Abba Silvanus had to water the garden his disciple usually cared for, he hid his face lest the sight of the trees should distract him (187, 4). Underlying what we have seen so far concerning the eremit-ical understanding of work is the conviction that a monk should pay his own way and contribute to some extent to the welfare of oth-ers. But neither of these obligations demands that all monks must Review for Relig4ous work. Some monks, surely, had the means to sustain their life with-out daily labor. A number of these could probably count on the support of their relatives and friends. Would this modest support not give them more time to pray and meditate? Is there not a mod-icum of good sense even in the extremist position of the Messalians? Why is work itself so important? We must note, first of all, that living on any form of income other than daily labor is explicitly rejected in the Sayings. A monk who is disturbed by the haggling involved in selling his wares asks one of the senior monks whether he may give up work if he finds another means to survive. The elder replies: "Even if you do have what you need by other means, do not give up your manual work" (168, 1). The monk is instructed, in fact, to work as hard as he can. The "word" given here is exemplified in the story of Abba Achilles, who edifies his visitors when they discover that he has been working and meditating all night. "From yesterday evening till now, I have woven twenty mea-sures, although I do not need it; but it is for fear God should be angry and accuse me, saying, 'Why did you not work when you could have done so?' That is why I give myself to this labor and do as much as I can" (25, 5). The Sayings generally do not emphasize the noneconomic value of manual labor. They do, however, present work as a basic element of a hermit's life. When Abba Poemen holds up one of the elders as an example, he observes that "in Abba Pambo we see three bodily activities: abstinence from food until the evening every day, silence, and much manual work" (158, 150). When Poemen lays out the basics of the eremitical life for an inquirer, he begins by saying that "living in your cell clearly means manual work" (160, 168). We know then that, according to the Sayings, work is an asceti-cal activity linked with meditation which should not be set aside even if other means of support are available. It seems clear, how-ever, that manual labor was so tightly tied to economic survival in the experience of most Egyptian solitaries that they felt no need to reflect in depth on the role it played in their lives. It was simply a fundamental but unobtrusive activity of their uncomplicated regime. To get a deeper insight into the role that work plays in Any kind of work can upset a hermit's life if it assumes too great a place in it. 159 March-April 2000 R~ssell * Must Her~nits Work? the eremitical life, we must turn to the elaborations on life in the desert which John Cassian offers us in his Institutions and Conferences. --- 160 Cassian's Institutions and Conferences The presence of Messalians (Syriac for "those who pray" but do not work) is more strongly felt in John Cassian's writings than in the Sayings. The need for daily work seems, therefore, to be less the plain, indisputable fact of life it is in the Sayings and more a deliberate option. Cassian takes Paul the Apostle as the exemplar of work. If Paul, who had the right to live off his mission, worked, how can monks refrain from doing so? Paul worked, Cassian notes, not for the sake of introducing some healthy variety into his life, but to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow even though he might have lived off his savings or from offerings received from others (Institutions 10.8; p. 270).3 Since Cassian uses Paul's injunction to the Thessalonians to work with their hands and to be at peace (1 Th 4:11), it is clear that he sees manual labor as an antidote to distraction (10.7; p. 269). Work concentrates the mind and shuts out external noise. It lifts the individual above the turmoil of the emotions. This is so important to John Cassian that he connects a story illustrating this point to St. Anthony himself. Anthony, we are told, was challenge'd by a brother who argued that his own life was superior to the discipline of the desert. He lived near his rel-atives, benefited from their support, and so was able to give all his time to prayer and reading. Anthony countered his claim to be free of care by showing that he was, in fact, emotionally tied to the economic ups and downs of his supporters. Anthony goes on to say that "this most lukewarm condition [is] depriving you of the fruit of your own hands and the just reward of your labor" (Conferences 24.11.3; p. 833).4 Once again Paul's example is put forward as the ideal. It is his example, Anthony maintains, which compels monks to work. Indeed, were it not for Paul's example, Anthony argues, he and his fellow monks would take the easy route and live off the alms of their relatives. Anthony goes on to chide the healthy monk for living off alms that should by right go to the weak. He then makes an astounding statement which radically opposes the notion that, while others must work, monks are exempt from labor because Review for Religious they pray. He insists, on the contrary, that everyone else in the world relies on the compassion of others, "with the sole exception of the race of monks which, in accordance with the Apostle' s precept, lives by the daily toil of its hands" (Conf24.12.3; p. 834). Anthony reminds us that, according to tradition, the monk gives alms, he does not receive them. In Anthony's opinion, authentic solitaries do not live off their relatives or near them. On the contrary, they flee society and live outside civilization's jurisdiction in the wastelands beyond the fer-tile Nile valley. This withdrawal not only shelters them from the hubbub of village life, but makes farming--the kind of work with which most Egyptian monks were probably familiar--impractical. Cassian regards farming as an unsuitable activity for a monk for several reasons. First, it draws the mind away from the focus on God which should be the monk's principal concern. Second, the fatigue brought on by hard work in the fields drains away the energy a monk needs for his spiritual pursuits (Conf 24.12.4; p. 835).s The third reason, however, is the most important. Not only is farm labor hard, it is also periodic; as a con-sequence, a monk who does this work is at loose ends for long periods of time. Cassian makes this last point evident in the story of some farming monks who grew restless whenever they visited the hermit colony of Skete. They literally could not sit still. Cassian says that they had not learned how to quiet their inner being because they worked outdoors and their thoughts were scattered everywhere by their bodily activity (Conf24.4; p. 828). For John Cassian, therefore; work is primarily associated with the spiritual goal of the monk. The hermit works because work provides the best conditions for prayer. The monk does certain kinds of work because certain tasks can be done day and night, day in and day out, without undue fatigue and without requiring a great deal of attention. The uncomplicated procedures associated with rope making and the like help him to pray. They keep the monk alert and centered so that he is able to resist both sleep and the listlessness and distractedness typical of acedia (Inst 2.12; p. 210). The example of Abba Paul, who had no economic reason to do handwork, shows just how essential Cassian thought manual labor actually was. Abba Paul's basic needs were met by the garden he Authentic solitaries do not live off their relatives or near them. March-April 2000 R~ssell ¯ M~t Hermits Work? tended and the palm trees near by. It seems, in fact, that his idyl-lic little oasis was so far out in the desert that the hermit had no way of getting his wares to market. Nevertheless, he collected palm branches and set himself a daily quota of weaving. At the end of the year he gathered the baskets he had made into a great pile and burned them. Then he started all over again. Abba Paul did not work to feed himself or to provide for the poor. So what was the point of his manual labor? Cassian says that his example proves that a monk can neither stay put nor achieve perfection without manual labor. Abba Paul worked solely to purify his heart, to keep his thoughts on course, to persevere in his cell, and thus to overcome acedia (Inst 10.24; pp. 274-275). In other words, he worked because it steadied and grounded him. The handwork with which he occupied himself night and day while praying centered him in a way that the gardening he did to support his life could not. Work serves prayer as long as it remains a subordinate ele-ment in the monastic regime. But, once a monk begins to think of himself as a "hard worker," he is in danger of feeding his human ambition by measuring his own worth in terms of the profit he makes or the tasks he performs. The monk, in effect, imports the world's notion of success into the desert. Once work itself becomes the goal, it usurps the priority that belongs properly to prayer. This is vividly illustrated in Cassian's tale of an elder who comes upon one of these superachievers wearing himself out try-ing to break up a stubborn boulder. The exhausted hermit thinks he is doing "good work," but the senior monk sees that a demon is urging him on (Confg.6.1-3; pp. 333-334). The point is clear: work that does not serve prayer can turn even the sorry resources of the desert into vehicles of human ambition. Jerome's Letter to Rusticus Before we leave the earliest teaching on the place of work in the eremitical life, we should take note of the list of possible tasks St. Jerome lays out in his letter to Rusticus,a young man on the brink of a monastic vocation.6 Although he counsels Rusticus not to live with his mother, and does mention at one point that by working he will be able to pay for his food, practical necessity is not the principal reason Jerome gives for working. It is primarily a matter of keeping busy and thereby holding the devil at bay. Review for Religious Some of the jobs which Jerome recommends are the familiar crafts of the Egyptian desert: weaving baskets and tending a small garden plot. To these Jerome adds the cultivation and grafting of fruit trees, beekeeping, the weaving of fishing nets, and, signifi-cantly, bookcopying. The copying of manuscripts was, to a great extent, a physical task like the other jobs mentioned. The parchment had to be pre-pared, inks mixed, pens cut, the pages lined, the text written out, and, finally, the manuscript bound. But there was an intellectual dimension to this activity. Jerome mentions that copying texts feeds the mind. He then goes on to remember his own brief stay in the desert when he fought off temptation by working hard to learn Hebrew. We have here, I think, the seeds of a conception of "work" quite different from that of the tradition of the Egyptian desert. We have moved out of the world of small peasant farmers into the cul- ¯ tivated world of the Roman gentleman. Although, while in the desert, Jerome may have earned his keep by some simple hand-work, it is clear that his real work was studying and writing. The same may be said, to some extent, of Cassian. From this time on we see a certain tension between the idea of work as a physical, money-earning activity and work as an intellectual activity for the betterment of the individual. Should someone who can do the higher work lay it aside to do a less spiritual and less humane task for the sake of earning money? Must a hermit work? Are the eremitical life and work in the sweat and blood, money-earning sense of the word compatible? The old question subtly reemerges between the lines, as it were, when Jerome, a man of scholarly inclination, lists the kinds of work suitable for a solitary. Grimlaic's Rule for Solitaries The 9th-10th-century Regula Solitariorum, by Grimlaic, rep-resents a literary dividing line between the Egyptian tradition's insistence that hermits must work to earn their living and the belief that solitaries have the right to turn to others for support.7 After noting the spiritual value of work as a means to. avoid idleness, Grimlaic summons up the example of St. Paul and the Fathers to insist that solitaries must work to support themselves and to help those in need. Indeed, he says that the greater part of the day should March-April 2000 Russell * Must Hermits Work? A hermit's food, drink, and clothing are paid for either by his personal labor or by the offerings of the faithful. be given to "holy work." He has in mind some task which can be performed mechanically while reading or praying.(Regula 39; 629). Grimlaic retells Cassian's story ofAbba Paul, who lived too far out in the desert to make the manufacture of baskets and ropes practical, but who nevertheless set himself a quota of manual work every day. He also borrows from the same source the story of the superspiritual nonworldng monk who was brought down to earth by Abba Silvanus's failure to call him to dinner (39; 630). He further emphasizes the importance of manual labor by laying out the Benedictine schedule of work and accept-ing the principle that, if poverty demands it, more time should be given to labor (40; 631).8 Obviously, there had always been elderly or infirm hermits who were unable to imitate the example of St. Paul "and the holy fathers" which Grimlaic so strongly emphasizes. Nonetheless, it seems to me significant that Grimlaic should undermine his argument by noting that Augustine maintains that the occasions on which Paul himself depended on alms demon-strate that those who are unable to do manual labor may receive their sustenance from others (39; 630). Grimlaic states this principle and then backs away from its implications. He insists that solitaries should work with their own hands even if they have some other means of support (39; 630). The idea that it might be legitimate for solitaries to rely on oth-ers for their keep recurs, however, immediately after Grimlaic defends the importance of work in passages borrowed ~rom Cassian and Benedict. It is no longer an exception to an almost inviolate rule. He simply states that a hermit's food, drink, and clothing are paid for either by his personal labor or by the offerings of the faith-ful (41; 631). He notes that he has demonstrated that it is legiti-mate for solitaries to live off alms. The argument isbased on more than Christian charity toward the needy. Hermits are compared to the priests and levites of the Old Testament, who received tithes so that they might be free to minister to the Lord without the distraction of earthly preoccu-pations (41; 631-632). The Christian clergy, like the ministers of Review for Religious the Old Testament, have nothing of their own, but merely admin-istrate and distribute what they receive from the people. The assimilation of solitaries to the clergy, which was becom-ing more a reality as monasteries were clericalized, is complete in Grimlaic's quotation from a rule for canons in which monks and hermits are said to rightly receive material support from the church because they have followed the evangelical counsel to renounce wealth (41; 632). Without this support they would have to shift their focus from God to the business of securing the necessities of life. But what of the traditional obligation of hermits to help the poor? The Regula Solitariorum deals with this issue by comparing hermits to the apostles in the Jerusalem church. The apostles them-selves owned nothing, but acted as channels through which each of the faithful received what he or she needed. Solitaries are to have the same detachment toward material things and to see to it that the poor share in the offerings which come their way (41; 632). What has happened to the concept of work in this transition from a reference to the fact that the fathers earned their living by the work of their hands to the declaration that hermits have the right to live off alms? The Regula Solitariorum is not saying that hermits need not work, but rather that they need not earn their living by the work they do. The profitability of work is not the sine qua non of the eremitical life. When the Egyptian abbas talked about work, they were refer-ring to an activity by which they avoided idleness and earned money. In the works which follow the Regula Solitariorum, the financial benefits of work will fade into the background. There will be a strong tendency to value work solely as a means to escape the boredom idleness brings on. A Camaldolese Rule for Hermits The shift in what is meant by "work" is evident in a 12th- 13th-century rule for hermits which plays a part in the history of the Camaldolese.9 It is interesting that, when the customary warn-ing against idleness is given and the hermit is told to combat this by "doing some work," the works suggested are actually spiritual and penitential practices (34; 297). When the rule does refer to manualia exercitia, the emphasis is on when manual labor may not be done (35; 298). March-April 2000 155 Russell ¯ Must Hermits Work? The kinds of work mentioned--gathering wood, gardening, collecting straw--are to be done in groups of three or more (36; 298). What the rule seems to have in mind when it talks of work (the noise of which must not disturb the quiet of the hermitage) is the maintenance necessary to keep the hermit colony functioning. There seems to be no notion of profitability whatsoever. Indeed, the emphasis on the recitation of the Psalter indicates the influence of Cluny (37; 298). Liturgical prayer has become the monk's real work. A hermit is simply too busy and too often weak-ened by fasting to work. During Lent, for example, some work (aliquid; manualia quaedam) is scheduled for only two afternoons a week (35; 298). Guigo I's Carthusian Customary The "customary" (or custom book) of what Would later be called the Grande Chartreuse, written by Guigo I, shows that bookcopying was to the Carthusians what weaving and braiding had been to the Egyptian solitaries, that is, the perfect activity for the hermit's cell. Guigo I notes, therefore, that anyone who is capable is taught to do this work (222)'.~° The production of manuscripts seemed particularly apt to these priest-hermits because it was a way for them to preach the word silently (224). The profit motive is not mentioned, but surely the produc-tion of a commodity that was in demand supplemented the support the inner circle of monks received from the outer ring of conversi, who did the manual labor that today we call blue-collar work. Guigo's complaints about the cost of running the place suggest that the community was on a tight budget (210). However, if there was anything left over after expenses had been met, it was Jaot given to the poor directly but sent to the neighboring village for distribution. In this way the Carthusians made it unprofitable for the poor to trek to their door (210). .I.t/k/ Peter the Venerable's Letter to Gislebertus Not all hermits and recluses shared the Carthusians' deter-mination to keep people at a distance. Some of them surrendered to the inclination to escape the monotony of their life by turning outward. Their effort to lighten the burden of their solitary rou-tine by a bit of pastoral counseling may seem prudent to us, but in Review for Religious fact it made the return to solitude all the harder. It had another damaging consequence: it brought them more money than they needed. The extra, of course, was said to be for the poor, but watching the coins pile up could easily lead to avarice or turn the hermit into a local benefactor. It is not surprising, there.fore, that Peter the Venerable, the great abbot of Cluny, advises Gislebertus, a monk of his who has recently become a recluse, to make sure that there is no extra cash in his cell. He insists that Gislebertus not become a distribution center of offerings to the poor. If someone in authority tells him that he must perform this function, the abbot uses his authority to veto the plan. It makes no sense to Peter that someone who has been freed from the worry of meeting his own needs should be entangled in concerns about the needs of others (35).~ Since we are told that his monastery provided Gislebertus with food, clothing, and his hermitage, it is clear that he did not have to earn his living (35). When Peter, therefore, proposes some sort of manual labor, he is suggesting a means of refreshing the'mind and exercising the body. He is recommending manual labor as a relief from the hard work of reading, prayer, and meditation (38). ¯ For Peter, as for Guigo I, the best work for a hei'mit is book-copying. He too is enthusiastic about its pastoral benefits (39). But, if a hermit cannot do this work because his eyes are bad or because it gives him a headache, or if he simply wants to have something more than just bookcopying to do, Peter recommends that he make coinbs, needle cases, small wine flasks, and the like. He even mentions that, if a swamp is nearby, the recluse may imi-tate the ancient monks and make baskets (39). At this point, it seems to me, the text veers toward the romantic. Work has become a hobby, purely a means of avoiding idleness. The task which Cassian said the Egyptian

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. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back c~)ver for information on subscription rates. ©1999 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ 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 57.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1998. ; rev lew for religio.us MARCH-APRIL 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 2 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spi~tuality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical; historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: t~OPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, .\'IN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to.copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial S.taff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean R~ad James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1998 " VOLUME 57 * NUMBER 2 contents 118 138 146 unique witness: a symposium Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God Edward Vacek SJ shows how there has been a certain eclipse of the love of God which also affects religious life. A Witness of Unique Witnessing Sidney Callahan sketches for us her perceptive laywoman's glimpse of religious life's present and future. Religious Life: Where Does It Fit in Today's Church? Doris Gottemoeller RSM presents an understanding of religious life as a dynamic and tested way within the church to follow Jesus Christ more closely and to serve him more generously. 161 169 spiritual renewal Creative Fidelity: Renewal in the Spirit of St. John of God Stephen de la Rosa OH reflects on the spirituality of the Brothers of St. John of God in the light of God's call to a creative fidelity. Journeying to Common Ground: Ira Progoff and Catholic Spiritual Renewal Francis Dorff OPraem reviews the integrating work of Ira Progoff in terms of its continuing importance for Catholic spiritual renewal. Review for Religious 174 180 meditative reflections The Lamb: A Johannine Meditation Patrick J. Ryan SJ enters us into a prayerful reflection of the beloved disciple advanced in years. What Were They Talking About? A Bethany Reflection Joseph G. Bachand MS offers a fresh interpretative reading of the Lucan passage about Martha and Mary which focuses the challenges of discipleship for all Christians. 186 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1997 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv, Eduardo C. Fern~indez SJ, and Ver6nica M~ndez RCD present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 116 Prisms 202 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Chastity 208 Book Reviews prisms VV~hen Pope John Paul identified 1998 as a year especially focused on the Holy Spirit and his sanc-tifying presence within the community of Christ's disci-ples, he did not make use of thdword paraclete as a special identity-word for the Spirit. Yet this strange-sounding word paraclete holds meanings particularly appropriate for our Christian understanding of God, for our Lenten renewal, and for our premillennium preparation. The word paraclete becomes a kind of prism when it is used as a title for the Holy Spirit. Often in the English-language translations of the Gospel of St. John paraclete is retained as a direct transliteration of the Greek word, lit-erally meaning "one called alongside of." The first mean-ing favored in a reading of the Johannine Gospel is that of a defender, signifying someone like a defense attorney in a lawsuit. At other times the meaning is broadened by the translation of counselor, as in one who carefully listens and gives clarity and advice and support. Still another mean-ing which is frequendy found is captured in the word com-forter. A comforter is one who strengthens and upholds. Paraclete, then, can be viewed differendy, depending upon the plane of reflection, but all the meanings are rich in connotation for us as recipients of this personal paschal gifting of Christ. The church season of Lent provides us with the occa-sion to acknowledge ourselves as sinners in the presence of a just and compassionate God. But the Spirit as para-clete presents us with an image of God as the one who is the "defending lawyer"--the one who is spending his ener-gies defending us, in the face of any accusers we might have. God the Spirit is the one who gives this sense of Review for Relig%us divine presence as defender. As St. Paul would reflect, "If God is for us, who can be against us?" (Rm 8:31). Lent is also a time for us to seek counsel and assess the drives and ambitions, the values and the dreams that fill and motivate our life. Discernment of spirits in the decision making that structures our lives is a gift of the Spirit to all the members of the Christian community. A Vatican II church, trying to live out its agenda described in the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, has great need to call upon the discernment gift of the Counselor. We know that, in the sometime darkness of our attempt to live a Christian life in a world of differing values, our refuge is in seeking the counsel of a God so involved with us that his person is experienced as one who enlightens and guides. All too often we act fearfully or rashly, with little reliance on Christ's promise: "In that hour, say what you are inspired to say. It will not be yourselves speaking but the Holy Spirit" (Mk 13:11). Lent uncovers our weakness and fragility in our following of Christ. We, like the first apostles, are too ready to take flight in the face of temptation or opposition. Our actions do speak louder than our words, and to the eyes of secular society we might appear even to deny our faith. God enters into our lives at these times with the support and strength necessary for our Christian witness. We come to recognize our God especially as the one who confirms and con-soles. "By patient endurance you will save your lives" (Lk 21:19). In John's Gospel, Jesus describes the giving of the Spirit in terms of an abiding presence of "another" paraclete with us. In his Last Supper discourse, Jesus first applies the tide to himself by his using the word another, and then through the rest of the discourse he gives Paraclete over to the Holy Spirit as a proper name. The Spirit makes real to our human experience that God's presence is truly that ofparaclete--one who defends, one who counsels, and one who strengthens. Jesus, the pioneer for our faith life, inspires our confidence in such a God. Lent is the traditional time in the church for a renewed effort in our following Christ in the pattern of his paschal mystery. We, like Jesus, can only walk the road to Jerusalem if we are led by the Spirit. As we make our Christian preparations to enter into the 2 lst-century era with a renewed emphasis upon our evangelization efforts, we need to call upon God who is truly Paraclete for us. David L. Fleming SJ March-April 1998 unique witness a symposium EDWARD VACEK Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God What I propose to do is describe the relation of consecrated life to my favorite topic, love for God. The connection is not as easy as it might seem. Is it important to love God direcdy? I suppose most of us would answer, "Of course! This is the most important thing we can do." In view of this I think I should point out, before saying anything else, that lots of people, including Christians with impeccable credentials, do not think we need directly love God. Indeed, some positively discour-age it. After that I will describe at some length several ways we can love God. I will conclude with a few obser-vations how religious life should be a paradigm of Jesus' first great commandment. I hope to encourage those of us in religious life to exercise a much needed public wit-ness to a personal friendship with God. The Problem Since my topic sounds like an all-too-familiar and therefore boring sermon topic, let me put my theme in more provocative language: Religious communities have been and, to some degree, still are in danger of losing Edward Vacek SJ, professor of Christian ethics at Weston Jesuit School of Theology, presented this paper, here somewhat revised, at a symposium on Religious Life's Unique Witness held in October 1997 at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth, Wernersville, Pennsylvania. His address is 3 Phillips Place; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. Review for Religious their souls. For the past forty years, we have been preoccupied with questions of lifestyle and governance, with examining past traditions and choosing new ministries. We had to do this. But these topics have tended to distract us from what is most central to our vocation. My concern is that we have shifted from being overly God-centered to being overly world-centered. At least we often talk as if that is the case. Our current silence about the possibil-ity of a direct love for God is worrisome because, when no one witnesses to this relationship, it will come to seem unimportant. If a "Jesus and me" spirituality too often forgot the neighbor, a "love your neighbor" spirituality can make us forget that God deserves all our love. The Origin of This Topic Before I go any further, let me relate how I came to this topic. I recently published a book on Christian love titled Love, Human and Divine.' I set out to show the connection between Jesus' first and second great commandments. Strange as it may seem, I found little in theology books on love for God. Sensitized by that dis-covery, I began to listen to how we post-Vatican II Catholics talk. When we use the phrase "love of God," we usually are referring to God's love for us and not our love for God. Classroom experience pushed my concerns further. I began to ask my students, many of whom are in religious life, this question: What do you mean by love for God? These students usually give one of four answers. First, those who are still dealing with legal-ism commonly say that loving God means not breaking any of the ten commandments. Second, other students say that love for God means taking care of the poor or the needy. Third, and most commonly, students say that loving God means being helpful to one's neighbor. Fourth, there are usually a few who have drunk deeply of our era's psychology, and they say that loving God means loving one's best or deepest self. Unfortunately, none of these replies answers my question. The first reply omits love, and all four omit God. Indeed, an atheist could give any of these replies. One of my most personally disturbing examples of this trend is very explicit. A student of mine, a young man about twenty-five years old, was finishing his master's thesis on the writings of a medieval mystic. He was fascinated by her sexual language of pen- March-April 1998 Vacek * Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God etration and indwelling. What h~ found distressing, however, was that this mystic wrote as if there was an inequality between her-self and the God she loved. Needless to say, I was surprised, so I asked him, "Do you really think we are equal to God? . Everyone knows," he replied with utter simplicity, "the word God is simply a symbol for the best in human life." His reduction of God to a symbol of the best in the world is, I suggest, an apt paradigm for the trend I am resisting. He is not alone. In a recent survey by the magazine U.S. Catholic, whose reader~ are mostly int~erested and involved Catholics, approximately fifty percent of people aged 36-55 said that we can be spiritual without any belief in God.2 Similarly, Sandra Schneiders has recently observed that many religious women and men have adopted a personal spirituality in which the central tenets and practices of Christianity have little place.3 For them spirituality means sitting in one's room listefii~ng to music or doing Zen. It means hiking in the fields or skiing in the mountains. It means getting a massage or enjoying a fine glass of wine. Anything that helps one to get calm and keep bal-anced in this crazy world is spirituality. As should be obvious, these "spiritual activities" can be accomplished relatively well without God. Causes for Decline How have we come to bracket off, even if only partially, a spirituality that is centered on love for God? I am sure there are hundreds of contributing factors, and I intend to discuss only some of the more obvious. Rather than focusing on any corrupt-ing influences from "the big bad world," I want to talk about rea-sons internal to the church's life. I will speak about the emphasis; in contemporary spirituality on the poor, the neighbor, and the' self. I will also point to difficulties people have with the church. Care for the Poor One of the great triumphs of our post-Vatican II world has been the renewed emphasis on care for the poor as essential to the practice of our faith. This concern for justice, however, may have been purchased at too great a price. Most people thought Mother Teresa was a saint and had this esteem for her precisely because of her work for the poor. Only in her death did I hear anyone Review for Religious say she had a deep prayer life. Mother Teresa also had a reputa-tion, whether deserved or not, of not even being concerned about the religious lives of those she served. Mother Teresa surely did an essential work of Christianity and did it far better than ninety-nine percent of us. Still, what is there in our contemporary religious mind that allows us to regularly praise care for the poor while practicing in print and in conversation a near total blackout concerning a person's love for God and her desire to help others love God? One reason lies in the theology of the "anonymous Christian" that captivated many of us after Vatican II. The attraction of this theology was that it motivated us to social justice and made it possible for us to be open-minded towards non-Catholics. The darling text of this theology is the familiar story of Matthew 25. W]aen people come before Jesus for their final judgment, he blesses them if they have given a cup of water to needy strangers. In amazement they reply that they did not know they were serving Jesus. Those judged for fail-ing to give the water imply that, if the thirsty person had been Jesus, they would have given the water gladly. Jesus rejects their plea. The conclusion drawn from this story by many theologians is that we should focus our care on needy human beings. They hold that we miss the point when we want to direct our attention explicitly to Christ. Of late, however, the theology of the anonymous Christian looks somewhat shopworn. It obscures why anyone should want to be explicitly a Christian. All the more, it makes baffling why anyone would want to enter religious life. This theology forgets that the meaning of our lives is greatly affected by the explicit personal relationships we have. And chief among these should be our love for God. If we care only for God's world, then our hearts will ultimately be restless. We need regularly to look God in the eye. That is called prayer. People sometimes say, "Love is not looking warmly into the eyes of another; rather, love is looking together out toward the world." But, if a woman I loved asked me why I never looked warmly into her eyes, I would feel justly accused. Similarly with God. How have we come to bracket off, even if only partially, a spirituality that is centered on love for God ? Marcia-April 1998 Vacek ¯ Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love fbr God Something is wrong with a theology in which Jesus' own prac-tice of prayer turns out to be un-Christian. Helping One's Neighbor For years after Vatican II, whenever I would preach or teach on the importance of loving our neighbor, heads would nod in agreement. Rarely if ever did someone object that I forgot to mention love for God. In recent years I have given several talks urging a direct love for God. Afterwards, almost always, some-one in the audience will ask why I did not talk more about love for our neighbor. In an attempt to be helpful, someone else will usually offer the clarification that the true "meaning" or "sign" or "test" of love for God is our love for our neighbor. And with that the audience will feel at ease again. Such experiences sug-gest to me that with Vatican II we recovered the second of Jesus' two great commandments, but we seem to have lost the primacy of the first. Let me relate an incident that happened several years ago. Late one evening a young Jesuit who had just moved into the community joined me for some apple pie. He was still feeling his way, and so he asked me whether the community was very spiri-tual. Not knowing what he meant by spiritual, I paused. He tried to clarify his question: "You know, is this a group of guys who are just interested in their studies, or are people really spiritual?" Thinking I now knew what he was asking, I replied that we have Mass in the house four days of the week, we join other commu-nities on two other days, and most of us have a ministry on Sunday. I began to name some other prayer and penance things we do, but at this point he interjected: "No, I didn't mean that stuff. I mean do the men care for one another." His practice bore out his concern. He was always one of the first to ask how my day had gone, and he was one of the last to find his way to chapel. This little encounter is an indicator of what I believe is a much wider phenomenon. If we talk only about love for our neighbor, we may be educating a generation of Christians who pay limited attention to an explicit love for God. Quite recently a friend of mine became quite perplexed during a theology course she was taking from a famous Rahner scholar. The teacher was explaining to the class that we love God in loving other people. She asked him whether we might also directly love God apart from loving people. The scholar said that he had never thought Review for P, eligious much about that. How, I asked myself, could this be? This man regularly says Mass, in which he directly addresses God; he also has, I presume, a good prayer life. But something in our present religious culture kept him from quickly recognizing that he directly relates to God all the time. This example is not isolated. I have gotten into several heated arguments with Christian scholars who deny that we can develop an interpersonal rela-tionship with God. Often they describe our Christian life as a sort of triangle: God's love comes down to us. Our love should not be directed back to God, but rather to our neighbor. Then God accepts that love as if for God's self. Daniel Maguire summarizes this position when he writes, "There can be no vertical love between us and God; we can only get to God horizontally through love of people.''4 As a consequence, some suggest that it is posi-tively un-Christian for us to try to love God directly. When formerly the first great commandment was in the ascendancy, we recognized that not a few saints were hard to live with, but we did not deny that they were saints. Not for nothing did the old quip say that a martyr is someone who has to live with a saint. Through much of the church's history, spiritual writers and theologians taught that the goal of Christian life was a deep love for God. Love for our neighbor was a clear second. Indeed, for St. Augustine, loving our neighbor was valuable only if it flowed from and promoted love for God. For him, we should not love our husband or our children if that love does not lead to love for God. Since Trent, however, a gradual turn has made love for this world--especially for our neighbor and now for our own self-- become the primary focus of love in Christianity. Prayer, then, is valuable if it gives us strength to love our neighbor. Or prayer is important if it helps us to find ourselves and develop our virtue. As a consequence, it has become nearly impossible to think that people could' be praying well if they are lacking in love for their neighbor or in some other virtue. Hence, one often hears the maxim that the true test even of mysticism is whether it leads to love for our neighbor. In other areas of life, we would not allow this slippage. In the case of a man marrying a widow, we would not deny his love for her if he could not muster love for her children. We would, of course, hope that he might come to love his stepchildren. But the true test of his love for her is his love for her, not his love for someone else. March-April 1998 Vacek ¯ Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God Emphasis on the Self The newfound emphasis in religious life on the self has been a third source of decline in talk of love for God. In my experience the tidal wave came in about 1963. Almost everywhere concern arose that the uniqueness and the needs of our individual selves were not being adequately taken care of. I remember well how one of my superiors tried to put a stop to this nonsense. He told the preacher of our annual eight-day retreat to focus on why it was not Christian to be concerned for the self. Needless to say, that retreatmaster did not succeed. The tide walls were crumbling, and the emphasis on the self that had been swelling over the cen-turies finally washed onto the mainland of religious life. A few years later almost all resistance had been washed away. Commonly, now, people come into religious life seeking per-sonal fulfillment. Either they find it, or they leave for greener pastures. Their personal happiness is the final criterion of all else. Such people often are very generous; but, according to their own account, they are generous because this brings them happiness. Our culture has deprived us of a way of saying openly that we help others because they need our help. Rather, we must say that we help others because we get so much out of doing it. Love for self has thus become central in our descriptions of everything we do. We even describe our love for God as important because it brings us the ultimate in happiness. Once upon a time Christian spirituality commonly proposed that self-love was sinful or nearly sinful. The Bible rarely, if ever, explicidy commends love for self. In fact, the Bible contains many passages that suggest we ought to forget or deny ourselves. By contrast, in recent years, love for self has perhaps become the first and last great commandment. We hear endlessly repeated the half-truth that we cannot love others, including God, unless we first love ourselves. We are encouraged to love others, includ-ing God, as a way of.achieving our own happiness. Thus, we talk as if love of self is the origin and the goal of all other loves. When this becomes the prevailing cultural context, love for God likely is treated as a "personal preference." That is, if love for God is interesting and worthwhile for a particular person, then that person may pursue it. But love for God is not thought to be essential or necessary for living a full human life. Few people would deny that someone who killed a neighbor has failed to live humanly, and most would say that a husband who does not love Review for Religious his wife and children is failing them. But not many would say that someone who does not love God fails to live in a fully human way. Love for God has become morally optional, to be pursued only to the degree that it fulfills us. Contemporary Catholicism One last reason for setting aside a direct love for God is the experience that many persons in religious life have of the church and of the God proposed by the church. For many, as Schneiders has recently said, the God of Christianity seems too small, too violent, and too male.s One does not readily want to enter into friendship with this God. Again, when the magisterium claims that its views are God's, those who feel abused by the church find it hard to get close to God. Recently these two alienating vectors came together when the Vatican said that the pope teaches infallibly that women cannot be ordained. With the shortcuts in logic that anger allows, a friend of mine concluded: "The Vatican infallibly teaches that God is unjust. So now you know why it is hard to pray to God." As a consequence of these dual alienations, some members of religious communities have given up on the Christian God. Even when people in religious life are more or less adequately centered in love for God, they seldom speak openly about that love. Oddly enough, religious people can be afraid of seeming, well, too religious. Outside of the classroom or the pulpit, many of us are quite slow to talk about God, and even when we do we seldom speak of our experience of God. Again, in the faith shar-ing that we do in our communities, our relationship to God is often unnamed. In religious life we have become more or less comfortable with talking about ourselves and our intracommu-nity dynamics; but we do not often talk about our own religious experiences of God. And spiritual directors sometimes seem less interested in our relationship with God than in our psychological or interpersonal concerns. In my pre-Vatican II novitiate days, we had silence almost the entire day. We were expected to take all that quiet and develop a habit of talking with God. Even then it seemed strange that, while Not for nothing did the old quip say that a martyr is someone who has to live with a saint. March-April 1998 Vacek ¯ Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God drinking afternoon coffee, we were not allowed to talk with the people standing next to us. Still, that awkward silence drilled in the point that we should try to talk with God throughout our day. That was then. I had a contrast experience at a retreat I directed for several young men before their ordination. Some of them---not all, by any means---spent their evenings and some of their days in conversation and even partying with one another. Somewhat puzzled, I inquired. I learned that they considered brotherhood far more important than time for prayer alone with God. The conclusion to the first half of these observations of mine is a worry. Ever since the Council of Trent and especially since Vatican II, a trend has been growing. That trend is the collapsing of the first great commandment into the second. Our silence about love for God has begun to be deafening. Love for God and Religious Life In this second half of my remarks, I want to look at a direct love for God. When doing spiritual direction, I am frequently awed by the close re, lationship that many people have with God. On the other hand, I am often both perplexed and distressed by the lack of that kind of relationship in the lives of so many other people, including women and men who have been in religious life for decades. These otherwise good persons may make occa-sional long-distance calls to God, but to them prayer seems like leaving messages on an answering machine in the sky. Intimacy with God is far away, something they no longer hope for and per-haps never did. If asked, they would say, "Oh, yeah, I believe in God." But they assert God's existence with the sort of conviction that one might have in asserting the existence of the planet Mars. It is something they have heard about, something they have no reason not to believe in, but not something that makes much dif-ference in their lives. Central Religious Concepts Every age has its central religious concept. For St. Paul it was faith in God. That concept has lost its teeth today. For Luther the key concept could be thought of as trust. While that still motivates many, it has for Catholics a forensic ring. I suggest that the ques-tion that can genuinely challenge all of us is this: Do you really Review for Religious love God? That question evokes an awareness of the endlessness and inadequacy of our heart's quest as well as the incomprehen-sibility and overwhelming goodness of God. Miguel de Unamuno insisted that our relationship with God must have emotional power. He writes: "Those who say that they believe in God and yet neither love nor fear him do not in fact believe in him but in those who have taught them that God exists. ¯. Those who believe that they believe in God but without any passion in their heart . . . believe only in the God-idea, not in God.''6 Unamuno's point is that many of us have a ten-dency to believe, not in God, but rather in a God-idea. Take, for example, what Unamuno says about fearing God. Since Vatican II we have so succeeded in putting across the idea that God loves us that the long biblical tradition of fear of God has all but disappeared. If, how-ever, we are really encountering God in our prayer, we will at times experience considerable fear and trembling. This fear is not so much a fear that God will punish us. Rather, it is a trembling before an utterly incomprehensible majesty. The concept of a loving God is something we can get cozy with. God is not. We human beings, of course, need good concepts. But we can substitute knowing the right concepts for knowing that to which they point. During my first stay in New York City, I lived in Queens with a priest who regaled me with all the fun things I could do in Manhattan. This went on for two months. One day, however, through an offhand remark he made, I discovered that he had not been to Manhattan for twenty years. He read several newspapers to find out about all the good things going in Manhattan, but he never went there. I fear that, like him, many Christians have many good ideas about God, but they never pay a visit. There has been something too easy about the way many of us changed our idea of God from a pre-Vatican punishing God to a post-Vatican God who unfailingly loves and forgives. It may be that all we have done is change our ideas, without really meeting the God who is Mystery. In the past those saints who seem gen-uinely to have known God indicated that God is experienced sometimes as warmly near but also at other times as wholly dis-tant, sometimes as compassionately forgiving but also at other Our first response is not to return love to God, but rather to let God's love affect or change us. March-April 1998 Vacek * Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God times as judging severely, sometimes as attractively good but also at other times terrifyingly awe-ful, and usually as a mixture of each. If we love God, we must love, not the idea of God, but this challenging, supportive, and finally incomprehensible Being. Direct Personal Love for God How does a love relationship with God develop? The first step is one that it seems women understand much more quickly than men. That step is to accept God's love for us. In other words, our first response is not to return love to God, but rather to let God's love affect or change us. The experience of being loved has its own transforming power, and we deny God's influence if we rush to return that love or to spread it among our neighbors. The popu-lar maxim can be repeated here: Don't just do something, stand there! Or better, sit there with your eyes closed and your hands open. So doing, we experience the beginning of our salvation. This acceptance of love is not easy. Not only are most of us a bunch of doers; we are also people who find it hard to receive love and let ourselves be touched by it. Many of us as counselors have spent hours encouraging people to overcome their self-hatred and to learn self-love. They have to learn to accept themselves, but they also have to learn how to "take in" acceptance from others since they expect only rejection or indifference. At times they refuse the sacrament of reconciliation because, at bot-tom, they cannot accept that someone would love them enough to forgive them. Preaching about the grace of acceptance, Paul Tillich said, "It strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our indifference, our weakness, our hostility, and our own lack of direction and composure have become intolerable to us . Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: 'You are accepted. You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know.'''7 In such moments we learn that there is some-thing lovable in us. We may not see it, but we accept the love of another whom we want to trust, and in that moment we begin to see the lovableness that God sees in us. After we have allowed God's love to touch us and thereby affirm our own worth and dignity, we want to respond by loving the One who loves us. This love unites us with God. It has both Review for Religious resting and dynamic qualities. That is, our love for God makes us want to be close to God and be at peace when we are close. It will not, though, let us rest for long, but moves us to want to delve ever more into God's goodness. Moreover, that love makes us want to co6perate with God in doing what God wants to do. And that leads us to be involved in redeeming creation. Hence, love for God in one phase moves us into God's infinite incom-prehensibility and in another phase moves us to both cherish the world and want to overcome its ills and injustices. Experience of Love for God One reason for replacing love for God with love for neighbor is that it seems somewhat impossible to love an invisible God. Even when we want to love God, we wonder how we might be sure that we are in fact loving God. These are real questions, but they should not deter us. Similar objections are sometimes raised about our love for fellow human beings. We are tempted to replace love for them with doing good deeds because good deeds are so much more visible than any heart-to-heart connection between spiritual persons. Nevertheless, we know that we do con-nect our invisible core with the core of those 'we love. We may never fully know the inner personhood of our friends, but we know enough to be able to love them. Indeed, our love for them always goes beyond what is visible. Similarly, we are rightly con-fident that we do love people, even if we cannot prove that love. In love, whether of God or of other human beings, or even love of ourselves, there are no sure tests. But within the experience of love we attain confidence that we are loving. What then is it to love God? We might begin by listening to two famous writers who described this love. William James depicted four stages of love for God.8 Our love for God begins with a felt sense, not an intellectual belief, of an Ultimate Power. We feel that we belong to a Sphere of Life that transcends our ordinary day-to-day interests and expands our life. Second, we feel that this Ultimate Power is not distant from us but rather is near to us. We sense that, as Blaise Pascal once observed, the reason we seek God is that God has already found us. Third, we willingly surrender ourselves to this Ultimate. We say yes to God's pres-ence, and we willingly hand ourselves over to God. That is, instead of thinking about God, we fall in love with God. Lastly, our emo- ~Ylarch-April 1998 Vacek ¯ Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God 130J tional center shifts towards loving and harmonious affections towards the rest of creation. We tend to say yes rather than no to the world about us. With hearts overflowing, we are freed from our usual tendency to judge or criticize others. Rather, we want to affirm the world as God's world. Moses Maimonides, the great medieval Jewish philosopher, gives a more personal account. He writes that anyone who loves God "is like a lovesick man whose mind is never free from his love for a certain woman and grows in it whether sitting or rising, both when eating and drinking---greater even than this must be the love of God in the heart of his lovers who continually grow more fervent . The whole of the Song of Songs is an allegory on this theme."gMaimonides compares love for.God with the passion that men have for the women they love, only greater. What kind of passion is that? Lovers constantly think of one another, constandy try to please one another. Similarly, those who love God find their minds returning to God whenever there is a lull in their day; they regularly converse with God when they want to talk with some-one; and they periodically dream up ways of doing things that are pleasing to God. Gradually, their attention to God becomes a per-vasive feature of their whole emotional life. Let me put the same point in a slightly different way. If we imagine vividly that some living person we really love has actually died, can we imagine not feeling the loss? Of course not. We might find ourselves, in imagination, being depressed for months and then only gradually .putting our lives back together. Now, imagine that God were to die tonight. If this impossibility could happen, would we desperately miss God? Would we be profoundly sad that God is no longer part of our life? If so, then love for God is central in our lives. When we love God like this, it involves much more than occa-sional prayers tossed towards the heavens. Rather, it becomes deeply rooted in us. It pervades and motivates moments of quiet peace but also moments of furious activity. This love for God becomes the dominant, organizing, emotional center of our whole lives. We meet God in sunsets, in the Bible, in the Eucharist, in friends who call to ask how we are doing, in the homeless man who lies under cardboard begging for a quarter. These encounters with God in the world depend upon other times when our rela-tionship to God is not so mediated. Then we are more like Moses who used to talk with God "face-to-face, as one speaks to a Review for Religio~ts friend" (Ex 33:11). Without this face-to-face talk, we are in dan-ger of becoming like those parents who devote themselves com-pletely to their children, only to realize one day that they no longer love one another as husband and wife. Since Vatican II we in religious life have worked hard to develop a spirituality of finding God in our service of people in the world. (And more needs to be done.) But in the process the explic-itly "God and me" and "God and us" aspects of our spirituality have often been neglected. The phrase "Jesus and I" has become a term of derision. Rather, we need not only Jesus' second great commandment--loving our neighbor as ourselves--but also Jesus' first great commandment: loving God with our whole mind and heart and soul and strength. We need as well the connection between these two. That connection appears chiefly when we sense ourselves to be acting with God, to be God's partners. Friendship con-sciously grows when friends do things chiefly because they are friends. The same is true in our relationship with God. We want to do things with God as a way of being friends of God. Love for God, of course, is not a once-and-for-all sort of affection. There may be periods of rapid and intense growth. Then come periods when we just maintain our relationship. The quiet periods prepare the way for a deeper relationship that we cannot force, but which we can hope for. Gradually this love more and more informs who we are. We begin, so to speak, to check in with God about everything we do. Most of us would criticize a husband who accepted a job in another city without first dis-cussing the move with his wife. But not all of us, when asked to do a new job, would quickly ask ourselves how this new task would affect our relationship with God. Deep lovers of God sponta-neously ask that question. Doubtless, we have to "work" at this relationship with God. We know that loves can be false,/and we know that we can deceive ourselves. Still, the idea of testing love is foreign to the experience of loving. We have no need of "tests" when we find ourselves wanting to spend time with God or still moved .by God's word spoken to us. Then, with the reality of our relationship assured, Those who love God find their minds returning to God whenever there is a lull in their day. L13-I -- March-April 1998 Vacek * Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God all we need examine regularly is its quality. We use our examen of consciousness to become more attentive to God's graciousness to us and to learn how to co.operate better in God's work. Love for God, like any great love, has a certain relativizing quality. We evaluate other things in the light of this great love. On the one hand, worldly goods become more valuable as God's crea-tures and as gifts we recognize as coming from God. On the other hand, these creatures no longer dominate our consciousness. Not only wealth, success, power, but also more personal things like the development of our talents, devotion to our friends, and even our own happiness take a subordinate place. In Ignatian language, we personally value them when they support our relationship with God; and we set them aside when they do not. Finally, anyone who has been in love with another human being knows that there is a quiet satisfaction whenever we make sacrifices for the one we love and a deep pleasure when we make extravagant gestures on behalf of our love. We spend all night in the hospital at the bedside of our beloved, and we want to do so. We sell our precious gold watch to buy a set of combs for our beloved's wonderful hair. Similarly, love for God leads all of us to make sacrifices such as fasting and to engage in extravagant ges-tures such as liturgy, and do all with joy. Kinds of Love Let me now describe three different forms of this love for God, and then I will try to relate them to religious life. I call them agape, eros, and pbilia. Normally we have these three all mixed together, but I want to name them because each at times has a separate claim on us. Agape, as I use the term, means to love something for its own sake. So, with an agapic love for God, we love God for God's own sake and are not concerned for our own benefit. There is an extremely provocative and stark question that illustrates this kind of love: If it would please God just a bit, would you be willing to suffer in hell forever? This question was put to those who wanted to become Calvinist divines. St. Francis de Sales put this question to himself. The question clarifies very quickly whether we love God for our sake or for God's sake. Agape is represented by the cross of Christ. That cross indi-cates that we may have to give up our lives in order to be faith- Review for Religious ful to God. An agapic love for God is essential to religious life. Our vows express a willingness to give up family, wealth, and free-dom as an expression of our agapic devotion to God. Needless to say, none of us ever achieves that complete devotion, but the vows indicate our willingness to do so. Second, eros. Those of us who resist the Calvinist question I just asked will be relieved to know that the Catholic Church con-demns the teaching that we must have only an agapic love for God. Rather, we may also have an eros relationship with God. Some of us will remember the act of contrition we once said when we went to confession. We prayed that we were heartily sorry for our sins because we dreaded the loss of heaven and the pains of hell, but most of all because they offended God. Our sorrow about offending God was an expression of agape. Our dread about los-ing God and going to hell was an expression of eros. Eros means loving someone rather much for our own sake. An eros love for God is a genuine love. It is a biblical love, and it is quite Catholic. We love God for the good we gain in being close to God. Since we can never be completely fulfilled by creatures, we will always be inclined to have this sort of love for God. Our religious vows say that we will not seek for completion in family, in wealth, or in independent control of our lives. Doubtless, we may in fact find more completion in our friendships than many married people do in their spouses; doubtless, almost all of us have access to more wealth than most of the world's population; and doubtless, each of us has considerable independence and sta-tus. But, if we are true to our religious commitment, we seek completion in none of these, but chiefly and finally in God. Thus an eros love for God is essential to religious life: we are people who point to an eschatological fulfillment in God. Third, we have a philia love when we love God for the sake of the covenant we share with God. Our Jewish ancestors formed covenants with God, and through baptism we Christians form a new covenant with God. We are God's people, and God is not just the God of creation but also our God. This covenant, when founded on love, can be imaged as a sort of friendship. Through this friendship with God, we share life with God. We are con-cerned about the things of God and God is concerned about our things, and both are concerned for the friendship itself. Because of this friendship we Christians do religious things like sing in church. The difference between ourselves and unbelievers is not ~/larch-April 1998 Vacek ¯ Reli~ous Life and the Ech'pse of Love for God only that we do such specifically religious activities, but also that we want to make all our activities be part of our relationship to God. Thus, we want God to rest with us at the seashore and to ladle soup through us at the local homeless shelter. A philia love for God is central in religious life. We want this friendship to be the first thing that comes to mind in the morn-ing and the last thing at night. Just as married persons want to call home when they are away at a convention, so we want to check in with God throughout the day: Religious life makes little sense without this friendship with God. Indeed, as I shall next suggest, religious life symbolizes this relatively unmediated friendship. Religious Life Could the church survive without religious life? Of course it could. Judaism covenanted with God without religious-life com-munities. So did the very early church, and so do many contem-porary Protestant churches. If all communities of religious were suppressed tomorrow, the church would go on. But in a church such as ours---a sacramental church with such diversity of gifts in its members---religious life in one form or another is almost inevitable. Indeed, a case could be made that religious life should someday be recognized, like marriage, as a sacrament because of what it adds to the church and world. What thin does it add? One answer might be that religious communities provide a place for a lot of kooky people, and that answer would not be too far wrong. The normal pattern for human beings is to marry, gain some security through property, and make significant decisions for themselves. When people are forbidden to marry, are deprived of property, or have their own important decisions made for them by others, we protest the violation of their basic human rights. We assert that these are basic goods needed for human fulfill-ment. Some people, however, although they are as psychologi-cally healthy as other people, have a peculiar passion to devote their lives to developing a relationship with God, a passion that relativizes their need to fulfill themselves through these basic human goods and makes it somewhat easy to set them aside. Such people may not be specially gifted at developing this relationship with God. Still, they are strongly attracted to try to do so through a life set apart to foster this devotion. They are like artists who just have to step out of the mainstream to pursue Review for Religious their passion. Further, they are attracted to other people who share this same passion. They are like the eggheads who gather at universities with others of similar intellectual bent because they feel at home with such heady people. Religious life, then, is a life shared by people who have a sometimes consuming passion for developing a relationship with God and who are willing to struc-ture their lives to ensure that this passion be fostered above all others. The church officially structures this form of life in order to publicly symbolize both to its members and to the world at large this desire for friendship with God. Obviously, few of us religious are dedicated exclusively to God. Indeed, it would be wrong to do so, since we should also be dedicated to the betterment of the world. Perhaps obviously, too, many married and single persons have developed a relationship to God that puts us to shame. But people do not ordinarily get mar-ried or stay single in order to pursue a passion for God. These two life patterns are not publicly structured to foster a passion for God, and such passion is not essential to their meaning. People do, however, enter religious life because of the pull of this very pas-sion. They join other people who, because of a similar passion, have left all to follow Christ. Without this love, their life pattern lacks its basic meaning. Accordingly, just as a married man fails if he does not love his wife, so too communities of religious women and men fail if they do not live explicitly and publicly--not just implicitly and consequentia!ly--from and for this primary relationship to God. Each pattern of life symbolizes different and essential Christian tasks. Marriage symbolizes Jesus' second great commandment, and religious life symbolizes the first. Both are necessary; and so, in the living of those respective vocations, the lines reverse. Married people must come to love God in and through their spouse, and persons in religious life must come to love their neigh-bor in and through God. Jesus was a man with a passion for God. Put a little more ele-gantly, Jesus was filled with God's Spirit. At the beginning of his public life, that Spirit led him out into a desert, away from peo-ple. That Spirit sometimes led him to leave his preaching and healing in order to be alone with God. That Spirit enabled him to go up to Jerusalem, thereby forgoing years.of ministry, in order to remain faithful to his Abba, even unto death on the cross. Ministry was not the center of his life, but only the consequence March-April 1998 Vacek ¯ Religious Life and the Eclipse of Love for God of living out of that center. The center of his life was his rela-tionship with his Abba. I said at the outset that religious life may be in danger of los-ing its soul. Perhaps now, at the end of my remarks, my inflam-matory language can be better understood and properly contextualized. Religious life, as I understand it, is directed essen-tially to an immediate love relationship with God. It is directed to the God who, to be sure, may be found and cherished in all things. But, more primordially, it is directed to the God who has a life and personhood that utterly transcend this world. Religious life points to this transcendent God by being a life that, without this rela-tionship to God, does not make sense. Indeed, as Karl Rahner argued, it would be immoral to choose this way of life without this relationship to God.1° The various works we do, for example, helping the poor or teaching children, in fact make a lot of sense quite apart from a relationship to God. These works may not be particularly attractive, but the sheer fact of human dignity makes them meaningful, even to atheists. Thus, even when we are engaged heart and soul in these works, our life must also offer something more. We must offer the crucially needed public wit-ness that this world is not all there is. Rather, belonging to the God who is beyond all creatures is the final meaning of life. We at times forget this important witness. Sometimes I put a question to men and women religious: Where is the kingdom of God to be found? In recent years they usually answer with the biblical text that the kingdom of God is within or in our midst (Lk 17:20-21). However, when the New Testament answers this ques-tion about the kingdom of God, it usually says that the kingdom of God is in some time and place other than this one.1~ In other words, it is chiefly .eschatological. Sometimes, too, I inquire about the meaning of the religious vows in our day. Contemporary men and women religious tend to praise the vows for giving us greater availability for this-worldly service. It is true that, for most of us most of the time, the vows do just this. But this view is incomplete for at least two reasons. First, there will be times when one or another vow will in fact prevent us from helping those who need love or material goods or our independent commitment. Second, other people without our vows often do greater works than we. Indeed, they sometimes do so because they have a spouse to help them or possessions to give away or the independence to change their commitments. Thus, Review for Religious our vows usually will help our ministry, but they do not always do so and, more importantly, that is not their primary meaning. Our vows have meaning on a different plane. Again, religious life has an eschatological quality. It is this quality that finally makes sense of the ascetic, other-worldly character of our religious vows. These vows point to the God who lives in unapproachable light, and these vows give witness to the Christian possibility of friend-ship with this incomprehensible God. I have suggested that since Vatican II there has occurred what I call an eclipse of love for God, an eclipse that has cast its shadow not only over the secular world, but over religious life as well. I have also urged that we step out of this shadow and live once again in the strong and direct sunlight of a friendship with God. Indeed, if we bask in the light and warmth of this Sun, not only may religious life attract new members, but it will have a soul that is fully alive and thus is the glory of God. Notes t Washington: Georgetown University Press, 1994. 2 U.S. Catholic 62, no. 10 (October 1997): 19. 3 Sandra Schneiders IHM, "Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era" (an address to the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 23 August 1997), in Review For Religious 57, no. 1 (January-February 1998): 22. 4 Daniel Maguire, The Moral Core of Christianity (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), p. 221. s Schneiders, "Congregational Leadership," p. 21. 6 Miguel de Unamuno, The Tragic Sense of Life, trans. J.E. Crawford Flitch (New York: Dover, 1954), p. 193. 7 Paul Tillich, Shaking of the Foundations (New York: Scribner's, 1948), p. 162. 8 William James, Varieties of Religious Experience (New Hyde Park, N.Y.: University Books, 1963), pp. 272-300. 9 Moses Maimonides, "Yad, Teshubah" (X, I-3), in The Teachings of Maimonides, ed. Abraham Cohen (New York: KTAV Publishing House, 1968), pp. 113-114. t0 Karl Rahner SJ "Reflections on a Theology of Renunciation," Theological Investigations, vol. 3 (New York: Crossroad, 1982), pp. 47-57. it E.P. Sanders, The Historical Figure of Jesus (London: Penguin, 1993), p. 176. ~larcb-April 1998 SIDNEY CALLAHAN A Witness of Unique Witnessing Recently I was invited to speak to a conference of male and female religious. My charge was to reflect upon the unique identity of the religious vocation and comment upon the prospects of religious life in a complex, pluralistic society--in particular, will the current intellectual trends toward fragmented postmodo ernist thinking be a devastating challenge for religious vocations? This assignment was a new challenge for me since heretofore I as a laywoman had never focused much attention on the men and women presently pursuing a vocation of voluntary poverty, celibacy, and obedience to a rule. Most of my concerns in the church have heretofore been focused on larger issues of faith and authority as related to women, sexuality, family, and ethics. To fulfill my assignment I had to read furiously in the huge lit-erature devoted to postmodernist thought, and then I had to find out how other observers analyze what is going on within reli-gious orders in the waning of our millennium. After reflecting upon the troubling challenges, I also wanted to give the group my outsider's perspectives on the positive achievements of reli-gious life. First, it must be admitted that postmodernism, however dif-ficult it is to define, is a confusing and widespread intellectual movement of our time. And the least acquaintance with this trend, in whatever field it is encountered, can assure a person that, yes, Sidney Callahan .participated in the October 1997 symposium at Wernersville, Pennsylvania, on Religious Life's Unique Witness. Here she offers an expanded revision of her Commonweal article of 5 December 1997: "Nunsuch? Reviving Religious Communities." She may be addressed at Hudson House, Box 260; Ardsley-on-Hudson, New York 10503. Review for Religqous this wave of skepticism about knowledge or universal truths will make traditional faith and the religious vocation even more dif-ficult to pursue. In its strongest forms postmodernist thought asserts that no universal reality exists or can be known. Older modernist asser-tions in Western thought that rational and scientific methods can produce knowledge are thrown out as inadmissible. Worse still, there is nothing much to be explored besides the various "lan-guage games" that people learn to use in their own specific cultures. In postmod-ernist thought, it is language and culture that construct reality, and so biology and science are discounted. Human beings are trapped in their own time and culture, and so no meaningful universal truth claims can be trusted. Postmodernism pushes its adher-ents, who mostly populate elite academic literature departments, into a moral rela-tivism and suspicion of affirmations of truth, including, of course, religious truth. Unfortunately, the existence of a self, or human nature, is also believed to be con-structed by language and culture, so any and all self-identities must be tentative and temporary. True moral agency, or the pos-sibility of permanent commitments and promise making or promise keeping, disappears. While this modern reincarnation of radical skepticism may puncture claims of antireligious secular orthodoxies, it does believers little good. In the general darkness of uncertainty and ambiguity, there may be some room for silence and mystery, and there may be opportunities for hearing new voices from below, but the overall effect of the new worldview is still a negative one for all believers in a self-disclosing God of truth and love. Happily, the postmodernist movement is, I think, not going to last much longer, much less triumph among our academic intel-lectual elites. Skepticism eventually self-destructs, since it asserts that there can be little point in intellectual inquiry or argument. Recently many scientific and intellectual countermovements can be seen surging back toward a critical realism which affirms that a common human nature exists and that, yes, certain moral truths can be known with at least virtual certainty. Interestingly enough, The overall effect of the new worldview is still a negative one for all believers in a self-disclosing God of truth and love. ~/larcb-April 1998 Callahan ¯ A Witness of Unique Witnessing --!:40J some feminist philosophers have been quick to see that, if noth-ing is morally true beyond a culture's boundaries, then feminists can have no foundation for their efforts toward the liberation of women from oppression. But in the meantime a creeping cultural fog of doubt, skep-ticism, and moral relativism moves down into the popular cul-ture and makes dealing with modern young people difficult. Many teachers report that their students find themselves unable to affirm that even the Nazi genocide was really, truly, morally wrong. Tentativism, skeptical detachment, and seeing life as consisting of senseless fragments take over the popular mind. In such an intellectual climate, any faith, especially the faith needed for a religious vocation, faces a problem of commitment. As it is for the church at large, the end of the millennium is a rather unset-tled ¯ time for vowed religious. Why so? And what can be done about it? Here too there is no shortage of articles on why the numbers of new vocations to religious orders are declining and why so many vowed religious left their orders after the Second Vatican Council. Certainly some perspective on the present can be gained by looking at the changes in religious life over the cen-turies. I received an eye-opening view of the history of religious orders by reading Jo Ann Kay McNamara's Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns Through Two Millennia. Throughout the last two thousand years, the forms of reli-gious life in the church have constantly evolved--along with their being by turns accepted and persecuted by people outside and inside the church. As historical conditions altered and Christianity spread, religious life adapted to various circumstances and cul-tures. New orders were founded and still are being founded, and new ministries were, and are, constantly undertaken. It does not take much acumen to conclude that present developments, how-ever turbulent, may be one more transitional phase. Today the major challenge for vowed religious involves the assimilation of Vatican II's teachings and reforms. If now, for instance, religious life is no longer theologically exalted above other states of life in the church and, in particular, is no longer judged a more perfect way to holiness, a way superior to mar-riage, then why make the sacrifices involved? If, in addition, laypersons can fulfill all the ministries within the church and in the world that vowed religious used to perform, why join a religious community to serve God and neighbor? Review for Religious Some writers analyzing religious life today see what is hap-pening as a necessary purification: the vowed religious life is being purged of temptations to pride and comfort that its revered sta-res as "a vocation" once occasioned. Now there is no more mys-tique, and no more lifelong security complete with an assured slot in some fully staffed religious institution. The professional-ization of many jobs in hospitals, colleges, and social agencies has meant the need for secular credentials. Religious cannot auto-matically count on ministries that give them a sense of fulfillment or on having access to the economic resources needed to support their communities. Parishes love to have a generic "sister" toiling in their vineyard, but appear less willing to pay her a living wage. For theologian Sandra Schneiders, contemporary religious life is being stripped to its essential meaning. Without any of the old privileges, reli-gious must recognize once again the "naked God-quest in the center of their hearts," which makes an "exclusive and total demand upon them in consecrated celibacy, voluntary poverty, community, and corporate mission" (Schneiders, p. 518). Present declines in numbers or disturbances in morale may be a painful transforming process, similar to the suffering of a dark night of the soul; such a dying may be neces-sary for new life to emerge, perhaps in new forms. Yet fidelity to the God-quest must be maintained and can have its own benefi-cial effects for the church. Agreed. As a married layperson I can affirm the witness of the religious vocation for strengthening the rest of the faithful community in a confusing time. Yes, the life of holiness seems to be much the same whatever the path taken toward the goal; either laypersons or religious end up with a family resemblance to Christ. Yet lay and religious vocations are different. I view vowed religious vocations as a condensed, crystallized, intensely focused, institu-tionalized, corporate embodiment of every Christian's call to love God and one's neighbor wholeheartedly. The totality of the life commitment of a religious vocation and the personal sacrifices entailed give testimony to the fact that God's kingdom exists beyond time and space, beyond what we Parishes love to have a generic "sister" toiling in their vineyard, but appear less willing to pay her a living wage. March-April 1998 Callahan * A Witness of Unique VVitnessing can see and touch or recognize as commonsense strivings. Vowed religious directly imitate Christ's life of public ministry, an ascetic life undertaken for the sake of the whole church as a corporate communion. The Roman Catholic Church, in the words of Sebastian Moore, can be acknowledged as the only "world-wide and world-old institution dedicated to changing the world." Religious give their all to a ministry of worship and loving service to the world. Today, in our disordered complicated society, we need good corporate institutions to work toward justice and human flour-ishing. American individualists are rather blind to the importance of struggling for good institutions and social realities. Only orga-nized communities can use their collective synergy to fight against the structural oppressions and powers of "social sin." The the-ologian Walter Wink has interpreted St. Paul's references to fight-ing against "powers and principalities" as the struggle against those larger social structures and forces that unjustly oppress peo-ple. Christians must fight against these powers, against such social structures as unfair economic markets, or racial and sexual prej-udices, or exploitations of the poor, or entrenched ignorance, or rampant consumerism peddled by the all-encompassing media. Social systems harm innocent people and the earth's environment. Such structural entities have enormous power, and they usually operate beyond the control of even good individuals caught up within the system. Religious orders can use their corporate strength arising from their collective commitment to work for the conversion and transformation of the world. Vowed celibacy is crucial to the religious vocation. Erotic energy dedicated to loving God within the community and focused upon the corporate mission can be incredibly potent and fruit-ful. Celibacy does not repudiate sexuality, but rather affirms the values of friendship and the worth of embodied lives beyond sex-ual reproduction orreplication of one's genes. Religious orders do replicate themselves in their spiritual children, who join because they agree with the goals of the religious family. In genetic par-enting and family life, children do not always agree with their parents' commitments. Religious life attests to the good news that in the kingdom gender roles become subservient to personal identity since in Christ there is neither male nor female. This affirmation of per-sonhood, friendship, and work beyond gendered conventions has Review for Religious been particularly important for women's self-esteem and flour-ishing. The history of women's religious orders is replete with instances of women who went against their culture and were able to assume leadership roles that use their talents in original ways. Moreover, if sexual reproduction, sexual fulfillment, and mat-ing no longer are the only human ways to validate bodily exis-tence, then human beings who do not mate and reproduce--babies, the young, the old, the ill, the handicapped--are symbolically affirmed as valuable members of the human family. I see vowed celibacy as an incest tabu adopted in order to count everyone as one's family and kin. A no to one mate and sexual pair-bonding flees persons to love more inclusively. The risks undertaken and the permanent vows that religious make also help to strengthen the permanent vows of married persons. Marriage and family life are definitely schools of love, but to be true to family claims most persons are limited in what they can give to the larger church and civic community. There is only so much time, money, and energy available in one life. There are also limits to the suf-fering and sacrifices that a person can justifiably ask of a spouse or the dependent members of the family. To love is to suffer with others, and this happens in every state of life, but religious can be freer to suffer more. They can spend themselves more daringly for the coming of the kingdom in the larger community. The cor-porate support of their religious brothers and sisters can sustain them in enterprises beyond the capabilities of individuals or of most families. It is no accident that the majority of modern Christian martyrs have been vowed religious serving as mission-aries in dangerous territories. Voluntary poverty in the religious vocation also serves as a wit-ness against the greed and love of money ingrained in our materi-alistic consumer culture. Corporate religious groups can be more free to operate by the rule of just care: from each according to his or her gifts and to each according to individual need. Religious orders can struggle for justice more freely when all of their mem-bers are committed to the same ideals of love and charity--and are willing to pay the price to deploy their forces. Often Christians I see vowed celibacy as an incest tabu adopted in order to count everyone as one's family and kin. March-April 1998 Callaban ¯ A Witness of Unique Witnessing must voluntarily take on morally necessary suffering in order to heal, to do the works of mercy, or to end oppression. Religious who obey community authority for the sake of their vocation witness to the existence of the authority of God's truth as well as to the importance of persevering in an intentional com-munity. Ideals of authority are in ill repute, but are no less nec-essary to common endeavors for all that. Unfortunately, our culture worships individual liberty, autonomy, control, and lives of hyperprivacy. A permanent commitment to communal life beyond mate and family is a startling countercultural witness. Such staunch commitment to social cohesion also helps give civic society backbone, providing corporate groups that can medi-ate or stand between individuals and the state. The new label for the existence of enduring social ties of interdependency is "social capital." Who in a community can count on what ties and what sources of help when needed? A civil society and a civilization depend upon these invisible but powerful connections. Religious orders generate all kinds of social capital for the kingdom along with their dedication to God. The corporate wit-ness of an order with its customs, traditions, and rituals builds up energy and esprit to act effectively against obstacles. So, in the course of religious i'enewal today, we find religious orders reemphasizing their corporate identities, refocusing on their dis-tinct ministries, reinstating collective commitment rituals, and recognizing their need for common worship, common symbols, and a common life. The love and support of one's brothers and sis-ters make the religious vocation possible--and powerful. A group commitment strengthens individuals. Religious faith may be more risky today for everyone. I do not think that the risk arises from conflicts between belief and natural science as was true in the 19th century. But social and psychological disci-plines, and postmodern intellectual currents, can be challenging by making persons doubt their own religious experiences. Collective experiences of worship ~and community experiences of work and love can ground religious experiences as well as give witness to the world. To use a phrase stolen from Paul Ricoeur, I would say that what religious life can produce today is "the intelligibility of hope" for the church. New creative forms may be evolving, but they will come about not by legislated commands from higher church hierarchies, but from faithful listening to the Holy Spirit. God Review for Religious is a God of surprises, so we cannot know how the next millennium will play itself out. But I am quite sure that the church will con-tinue to be blessed with the survival and revival of religious voca-tions, thanks be to God. Selected Sources Albert Borgmann. Crossing the Postmodern Divide. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992. Joseph J. Feeney sJ. "Can a Worldview Be Healed? Students and Postmodernism." America 177, no. 15 (15 November 1997): 12-16. Jo Ann Kay McNamara. Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996. Thomas Guarino. "Postmodernity and Five Fundamental Theological Issues." Theological Studies 57, no. 4 (December 1996): 654-689. Sandra M. Schneiders IHM. "Contemporary Religious Life: Death or Transformation?" Crosscurrents (Winter 1996-1997): 510-535. Personal Interpretation In sleep-warped nights of dreams and hauntings, L to satisfy my pride, my lust, my greed, had made a god in image of my need. Light dawned, but false, beneath a man-made sky. Then I felt more: some Thing, some One - Benign; not There, but Here - Beside. I came to part unpracticed lips and dry unyielding heart: I brought myself to pray, to ask a sign. Enough to shake my disbelief, there then occurred events beyond all chance that still offend my rationality, my will. Reluctant, though, I start to doubt again. That sign, so clear, at mercy of my wit: how will I choose to now interpret it? Stephen Eric Smyth FMS March-April 1998 DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Religious Life: Where Does It Fit in Today's Church? l/lA " t I say in this article is as much about the church as it ¥ ¥ is about religious life. Stated more fully, my question is: What is the place, the distinctive identity and function, of religious life in the church today? What is unique about this vocation in our post-Vatican II church? What witness and service do religious offer that other members of the church do not offer? Or, more colloquially, what is the point of being a religious sister or brother today?~ To throw some light here is also to illuminate the nature of the church itself in our post-Vatican II understanding. We can approach our question in three parts, dealing with (1) the origin of the question, (2) the significance of the question, and (3) some suggestions for a response. Origin of the Question First of all, where does this question come from? A few dozen years ago, before the Second Vatican Council, the status and role of religious were well known. Their status was characterized as a way of perfection, and their role was to devote themselves to min-istries such as prayer (in contemplative orders, more or less full-time) and teaching, nursing, and caring for orphans and the elderly. Their state of life contrasted with two other available options, the lay and clerical states. Doris Gottemoeller RSM, president of the Sisters of Mercy of the Americas, last appeared in our journal in January-February 1996. Her address is 8300 Colesville Road #300; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. Review for Religious An implicit hierarchy seen in these states had the laity at the bottom and the clergy at the top. It was better to be a religious than to be a layperson, and even better to be a priest. (So if a lit-tle boy confided to his teacher that he was interested in becom-ing a brother, she was apt to say, "Why don't you go all the way and become a priest?") What has changed, so that the question of meaning and purpose has become so urgent? First, the council, in its Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen gentium, "flattened out" this hierarchy of states by affirming the fundamental equality of all Christians, rooted in baptism. "All the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity," and "all of Christ's followers [are] invited and bound to pursue holiness and the perfect fulfillment of their proper state.''2 Only later did many begin to ask a bothersome question: If it is not better, that is, more perfect, to be a religious than a layper-son, why make the sacrifice inherent in a lifetime commitment to the vows? The council also triggered a proliferation of ministries, as the faithful were called in a new way to be responsible for the mission of the church. The closing exhortation of the Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity, Apostolicam actuositatem, calls on all the laity to be coworkers with Christ in the various forms and meth-ods of the church's one apostolate. Formerly, the apostolate of the laity was described as a participation in the apostolate of the hierarchy; now the laity were called to the apostolate in their own name, in union with the whole church. The gradual adoption of the word ministry, often used in the plural, spoke to a new sense of a myriad of liturgical, catechetical, and pastoral works in which church members were called to engage, whether on an occasional, part-time, or full-time basis. Amidst this plurality of ministries, the restoration of the lay diaconate introduced a group of persons whose role is still not clearly differentiated from other roles. A recent national study of the permanent diaconate reports: "In their written-in comments more than a few deacons complained that they are too often thought to be either 'incomplete priests' or 'more advanced laity.'''3 Many deacons wonder whether ordination is necessary for what they do, and the majority of lay leaders surveyed indi-cated they do not think that ordination is necessary for the min-istries performed by deacons in their parishes. We could also ~larch-ApH11998 Gottemoeller * Religious Life: Where Does It Fit? point out that the typical deacon's education and spiritual and pi'ofessional preparation for ministry are less than that of the reli-gious with whom he serves on the same parish staff--and yet he is empowered to preach, to serve at the altar during liturgy, and to a~dminister some sacraments. Of all these ministries, it is difficult to identify religious with any specific one. Teachers in parochial schools and in Christian-doctrine (CCD) programs, nurses in hospitals, workers in child-care, eldercare, and special care institutions of all kinds are overwhelmingly lay people. Some religious continue to minister in these settirigs, but others are in a wide variety of other venues: prisons, homeless shelters, social-welfare agencies, housing pro-jects, parishes, dioceses, retreat centers, justice offices, congre-gational headquarters, and so forth. Not all of these settings are affiliated with the individual's congregation or, indeed, with the Catholic Church. The causes of this ministerial diffusion are complex and not all within the control of religious congregations. Among other factors in play is the law of supply and demand. Religious are not needed in some ministries for which others are very well qualified. Religious cannot afford to offer their services gratis, and their seniority makes them too expensive to hire. Institutions that were once the employer of last resort for religious have closed or cannot employ persons without specific creden-tials. The government has assumed greater responsibility for some works for which religious were once responsible. Professional credentialing has put some ministries beyond the reach of some religious. And so forth. There is no end of opportunities for vol-unteers in the typical parish or institution, but volunteer (that is, nonremunerated) serviICe is not really a viable option for many of a congregation's members. One of the common venues for ministry is the parish (not the parish school, but the parish itself), a fact that contributes to the phenomenon known as the parochialization of religious life. As qualified lay teachers became available in years past, they began to replace sisters in the classroom. At the same time, parishes looked to sisters to fill roles for which they were deemed uniquely qualified, especially the religious education of children and adults and a variety of other pastoral services such as outreach to the elderly and homebound, music ministry, and liturgy preparation. Then, as the number of the clergy declined and the number of Review for Religious parishes with a single priest grew, pastors looked to sisters to move into the new roles of pastoral associate and even pastoral administrator (in priestless parishes). An unforeseen effect of this parochial assimilation is that the typical parish has little or no sense of the distinctive charism of each religious congregation, no sense of the congregational mission or spirituality that sup-ports "their" sister. If this development moves to its logical conclusion, women religious might come to be regarded as generic church workers, inter-changeable parish functionaries. Such parochial assimilation also blurs the dis-tinction between clerical and religious identity. Of course, everyone knows that pi'iests can celebrate Mass and religious cannot. But the popular confu-sion about the two vocations is indicated by ques-tions such as the following which I get from tlffie to time: If the pope allows priests to marry, do you think sisters will get married too? Such a questioner has no idea of the distinction between the vocation of a diocesan priest and that of a religious, and no idea that religious life is a way of life in which celibacy is an integral component. Many people assume that we religious observe celibacy as a sort of price for working in the church rather than as the heart of our religious commitment. By way of an aside, we could note that th~ question of priesdy identity and mission in today's church would be a parallel area of investigation. Since the theologies of both the priesthood and religious life are rooted in ecclesiology, there is a relationship between the concepts of both of them. One recent study identi-fied four historically significant theologies of the. priesthood and their corresponding theologies of religious life.4 These theolo-gies differ from one another in their vision of spiritual ideals, of appropriate relationship to a local church, 6f mission focus, and so forth. Clerical religious institutes represent a further permu-tation of the issues. To summarize this first part, we can say that the question of the contemporary meaning and significance of religious life arises on the theoretical side because of the emphasis of Vatican II on the role of the laity in light of the universal call to'holiness, and on the practical side because of the changing ministerial roles of reli- Professional credentialing has put some ministries beyond the reach of some religious. March-April 1998 Gottemoeller ¯ Religious Life: Where Does It Fit? | gious (including their insertion into parochial roles). Finally, the diminishing number of religious reduces their visibility and makes it even more difficult to discover who they are and what they are about. From a congregational perspective, this diminishment makes it more imperative than ever for religious to assert their dis-tinctive identity and to focus their energy and resources in a clear direction--which leads to the issue of significance. Significance of the Question What difference does it make if there is no clear or commonly held answer to what the meaning and purpose of religious life today is. The most obvious answer is that it makes it very difficult, even impossible, to invite, young men and women to consider reli-gious life as a personal option. The Religious Life Futures Project highlighted the problem in its Executive Summary: "The most compelling result of the study indicates that a significant per-centage of religious no longer understand their role and function in the church. This lack of clarity can result in lowered self-con-fidence, a sense of futility, greater propensity to leave religious life, and significant anxiety. The younger religious experience the least clarity, and, among these, women religious experience less clarity than their male counterparts . For both women and men religious, Vatican II substantially reinforced the role of laity in the church, but did not clarify for religious the unique contri-bution of their vocation.''s Other contemporary writers have highlighted the same prob-lem. Sociologist Patricia Wittberg SC speaks of the collapse of the old ideological framework for religious life after the council. By means of a review and analysis of the articles which appeared in Review for Religious over a thirty-year period, she demon-strates how the old definition of religious life as a state of per-fection or privileged way to holiness was discarded and the traditional understanding of the vows and community life eroded or replaced. At the same time a new, internally consistent alter-native definition was proposed by theologians and writers, namely, religious life as prophetic witness. She suggests, however, that structural changes in the daily lifestyle of religious prevented the new definition from being established on a corporate basis. "Nor was the new ideology upheld with the same unanimity as the old had been, for religious communities had deprived themselves of Review for Religious some of the very communal commitment mechanisms that might have reinforced their new beliefs.''6 In other words, we had so reshaped our understandings of obedience, of community, of min-istry, and so forth as to make it impossible to hold one another to any accountability for common practices. Wittberg adds, "Individual religious were defined as those who live their bap-tismal call in the vowed life--but these vows were either inade-quately defined or else defined in such a way as to apply indiscriminately to all Christians. 'The dominant language of reli-gious life . . . shifted from theological constructs to social and psychological paradigms' that were inadequate to explain what was distinct or desirable about the lifestyle.''7 This is quite a sig-nificant observation from a sociologist! As evidence of our lack of a clear sense of our corporate mean-ing and purpose, Wittberg cites some examples of self-defeating patterns of operation: 1. Statements of mission or charism that are vague and gen-eral enough to include all the various interests in a con-gregation. 2. Difficulty in making choices, particularly in the area of long-term planning, because there is no deeply shared vision on which to base these choices. 3. An emphasis on the personal growth and development of the members, as well as a tendency to interpret commu-nity in terms of the needs of the members, work as an indi-vidual project, and spirituality as a private concern. 4. The near impossibility of sustaining corporate commit-ments, s I doubt that there are many religious today who do not recog-nize at least some of this analysis as touching on their own expe-rience. In terms of ministry, the lack of a simple and single answer to the question of what religious do is a cause of confusion and crit-icism among some of the laity. To give one example: the March 1997 issue of Religious Life, a newsletter or journal published by the Institute on Religious Life in Chicago, carried an article tided "Nuns and the Common Good," by Anne Stewart Connell. In it she excoriates "sisters who maintain they are still 'sisters' yet have leaped over convent walls and taken 'administrative' jobs in the church in preference to teaching children" as perpetuating a "gross injustice" in the church. In her words, these sisters are "corrupt-ing" the "bona fide religious who have nowhere to turn but to March-Apt41 1998 Gottemoeller * Religious Life: Where Does It Fit? collude in the corruption simply to survive.''9 It is easy to be dis-mayed by the invective here, but a deeper concern is that the writer has the misconception that some or most religious con-gregations were founded to do a single work, namely, teaching, and that their members have willfully and selfishly betrayed their commitment in order to pursue other occupations. Below the issues of vocational recruitment, congregational morale, and public perception lies the deeper issue of theological coherence. VChere does religious life fit in the theology of our post-Vatican II church? The postsynodal apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata describes consecrated life as a gift to the whole church: Its universal presence and the evangelical nature of its wit-ness are clear evidence--if any were needed--that the con-secrated life is not something isolated and marginal, but a reality which affects the whole church. The bishops at the synod frequently reaffirmed [that] "this is something which concerns us all." In effect, the consecrated life is at the very heart of the church as a decisive element for her mission, since it "manifests the inner nature of the Christian call-ing" and the striving of the whole church as bride towards union with her one Soouse.tAt the Synod it was stated on several occasions tha't the e'~nsecrat'ed life has not only proved a help and support for the church in the past, but is also a precious and necessary gift for the present and future of the people of God, since it is an intimate part of her life, her holiness, and her mission)° Consecrated life, then, is an intimate part of the church's life and a decisive element of her mission. This precious gift is said to be a reality which affects the whole church. How are these affir-mations consonant with our post-Vatican II understanding of the church as a communio, an organic unity of all the faithful, consti-tuted in baptism, nourished by'the sacramental life and authentic teachings, and focused on the one mission? This question of eccle-siology can be the bridge to our third section, in which we focus on the identity and mission of religious life today. Some Suggestions for a Response I would like to attempt to answer our question of meaning and purpose by offering three assertions: (1) Religious life is a permanent state of life ,in the church; (2) religious life has an objective excellence, even a certain superiority, with regard to Review for Religious other states of life; and (3) there is no one ministry for which religious are uniquely qualified, but each congregation should offer a specific witness by its corporate lifestyle and mission. Religious life is a permanent state of life in the church. The impli-cations of this statement are that it is clearly distinguishable from other states of life in the church and that it is rec-ognized as such by the church in an official way. "State of life" is probably a term of art rather than a categorical definition, but I think we would all agree that it suggests a deliberate orientation of one's life, encompassing fundamental and stable choices around the use of one's sexuality, material possessions, personal freedom, relationships, talents, and future options. The choices made by persons in the religious state of life with respect to these dimensions of life are customarily designated celibacy, poverty, obedience, community, ministry, and permanence. The choides have an inner con-gruence, so that each influences how the others are expressed and experienced. Taken together, these choices are more than enough to distinguish a person in the religious state from one in the lay state. This assertion that religious life is a permanent state of life in the church might seem too obvious to need saying, but I feel it needs emphasis in light of the charge sometimes made that reli-gious have become indistinguishable from the laity. The real issue here is the visibility of the way of life, with its interdependent and distinguishing characteristics. If all an onlooker sees is a single woman living alone and going out to a job each day, the evan-gelical witness is compromised and its meaning eroded. Poverty, obedience, community, ministry--these make real-life demands and effectively shape a life that is distinctively different from the general Christian vocation. The church's recognition of this state of life draws on a dis-tinction between the church's structure and its life. According to the first, there are only two states of life, clerical and lay. According to the latter, there are three states: clerical, religious, and lay. The operative quotations from Vatican II's Lumen gentium are: "From the point of view of the divine and hierarchical struc-ture of the church, the religious state of life is not an intermedi-ate one between the clerical and lay states. Rather, the faithful of Where does religious life fit in the theology of our post-Vatican II church? March-April 1998 Gottemoeller ¯ Reli~ous Life: Where Does It Fit? Christ are called by God from both these latter states of life so that they may enjoy this particular gift in the life of the church. ¯ ." (§43) and "although the religious state., does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the church, nevertheless it belongs inseparably to her life and holiness" (§44). At the same time, the document (§31) says that "the term laity is here understood to mean all the faithful except those in holy orders and those in a religious state sanctioned by the church." In other words, the division of church members into three states, the religious, the clerical, and the lay, is a division based on the life and holiness of the church, not on its structure. Vita consecrata describes these three vocations as paradigmatic choices, "inasmuch as all particular vocations., are in one way or another derived from them or lead back to them, in accordance with the richness of God's gift.''~1 The diversity represented by these three fundamental options corresponds perfectly with the idea of the church as communio in which the Spirit provides for a variety of vocations, charisms, and ministries. A communion eccle-siology accents ordered relationships and differentiation of roles within the fundamental equality that stems from a common bap-tism. Diversity is also present within the religious state, not just among the three fundamental states of life. For example, conse-crated life is realized in religious and in secular institutes and in societies of apostolic life. Religious institutes may be clerical, non-clerical, or mixed; monastic, mendicant, evangelical, or apostolic; contemplative or active; ancient or modern. New institutes arise and old ones pass away. Whatever the canonical form or historical sit-uation, commitment to the evangelical counsels according to a rule approved by the church is the essential characteristic of this state of life. Given the countercultural nature of the commitment required by the counsel~, religious life will always be the choice of the few rather than of the many. However, it is an enduring way of life which seems to flourish in one epoch or cultural milieu and diminish in another, only to revive again with new vigor. Religious life has an objective excellence, even a certain superiority, with regard to other states of life. This second assertion about the identity and mission of religious life is prompted in part by a phrase which occurs in three places in Vita consecrata, namely, that consecrated life has an "objective superiority" in the church.12 When the apostolic exhortation was first published, commentators (including myself) reacted immediately to the phrase, noting that Review for Religious it seems to contradict the affirmation of Vatican II that all the faithful of Christ are called to the perfection of charity and to the perfect fulfillment of their proper state. Commentators pointed out that the word "superiority" was a translation of the Latin praestantia, which the French and Italian texts translated as "excellence" (and it, is likely that the document was first written in Italian).'3 In other words, we concluded that what the pope was really saying is that consecrated life has an objective excel-lence. We felt comfortable with this because to affirm one voca-tion or state of life as excellent does not imply that another choice is not equally excellent. On further reflection, however, I am willing to suggest that, whatever the pope did or did not intend, the word "superiority" also has a certain legitimacy. Appealing again to a communion ecclesiology, I find a differentiation of roles and a hierarchy of functions to be consonant with an organic model of the church. In the words of 1 Corinthians 12, "As a body is one though it has many parts, and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body, so also Christ," and, further, "If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be?" Applying all this to the church, St. Paul asserts: "Some people God has designated in the church to be, first, apostles; second, prophets; third, teachers; then, [doers of] mighty deeds; then, gifts of healing, assistance, administration, and varieties of tongues." Finally, as if to under-score the implicit hierarchy in this list, he says, "Strive eagerly for the greatest spiritual gifts." The most obvious application of this principle of differenti-ation is with respect to ordained persons and their specific pub-lic responsibilities within the church. But I would suggest that the principle might also apply to the domain of the life of the church,x4 In the home at Bethany, Jesus says to Martha, "Mary has chosen the better part" (Lk 10:42). Can there be a good and a better part, objectively speaking, within the life of the Christian community? If the answer is yes, and if consecrated life can claim to be the better part, than what, specifically, makes it better? Vita con-secrata attempts to answer this question in paragraphs 29-34 deal-ing with consecrated life in and for the church. The crux of the answer is that persons in consecrated life commit themselves to a "fuller, more explicit and authentic confoi'mity to him [Jesus] t~larch-~lpri1199g Gottemoeller ¯ Religious Life: Where Does It Fit? through the profession of the evangelical counsels" (§30). This commitment is "a special and fruitful deepening of the consecra-tion received in baptism" (§30). This further consecration differs from baptismal consecration, of which it is not a necessary con-sequence. 15 All the baptized are called to holiness and the virtues which contribute to holiness, such as chastity, obedience to God and to the church, and a reasonable detachment from material possessions. But baptism does not include the call to celibacy or virginity, obedience to a superior, or the renunciation of posses-sions, in the form proper to the evangelical counsels. In addition to conforming their lives in an explicit way to the pattern of Jesus' life, those who profess the evangelical counsels also proclaim and in a certain way anticipate the future age when the fullness of the kingdom of heaven, already present in its first fruits and in mystery, will be achieved and when the children of the resurrection will take neither wife nor husband, but will be like the angels of God (VC §32). Thus, consecrated chastity or celibacy is the preeminent expression of, and "door to," the whole conse-crated life. In summary, then, the superiority of the consecrated life is twofold: in its conformity to the life of Jesus and in its being a sign of the life to come, both of which are specifically and uniquely realized in this way of life. Within the church and on behalf of the whole church, consecrated life is a kind of sacrament of presence. Again, in the words of Vita consecrata, "The consecrated life, by its very existence in the church, seeks to serve the consecration of the lives of all the faithful, clergy and laity alike" (§33). The ministry of witness is mutual: "consecrated persons themselves are helped by the witness of the other vocations to live fully and completely their union with the mystery of Christ and the church in its many different dimensions." Of course, we need to emphasize that the excellence or supe-riority of consecrated life adheres in the state of life itself and can-not be automatically attributed to any person choosing this life option. Individual men and women in consecrated life may be gen-erous or selfish, great-spirited or petty, devout or apathetic, bold or indifferent in their service of God and God's people. At times they may waver in their commitment or fail in their obligations. When they do, they acknowledge their failures, seek God's pardon, and persevere. The ideal is still in place, even though human weakness prevents them from realizing it as generously as they would want. Review for Religious As a state of life, consecrated life offers--to men and women who have been captured by so intense a love for God that every dimen-sion of their lives is affected--a more excellent way to express that love~within the context of church. Up until now we have dealt with the identity of religious life. Let me now turn to the question of mission. Other than wit-nessing by our presence, can we concretize what it is that reli-gious do (or should do)? In my view the answer is that there is no one ministry for which religious are uniquely qualified, but each congregation should offer a specific witness by its corporate lifestyle and The excellence mission. The apostolic exhortation Vita con-secrata deals beautifully with the inte-gration of consecration and mission: "By the action of the Holy Spirit who is at the origin of every vocation and charism, consecrated life itself is a mis-sion, as was the whole of Jesus' life" (§72). It follows that, if the life itself is a mission, it must be visible. The evan-gelical counsels and the ideals of love for God, passionate concern for the poor and needy, and commitment to community life need to be translated into specific behaviors that people can see and understand. These behaviors .also help introduce a new member into the meaning of the life and reinforce a sense of belonging among all members. Without such corporate behaviors, there is no visibility; with-out visibility, there is no witness. We could discuss at length what such corporate behaviors (or commitment mechanisms, as th~ sociologists call them) might be, but the principle is clear. In the process of renewal, we discarded a whole set of behaviors that were anachronistic or even harmful to psychological health, but we have not yet adopted new behav-iors appropriate for today's culture and ministerial needs. One of the factors that keep us from identifying or adopting such cor-porate behaviors is our respect for diversity. This value is affirmed in Hta consecrata and is a necessary outcome of the renewal pro-cess enjoined by the Second Vatican Council. If religious institutes successfully "return to the inspiration of their founders" and or superiority of consecrated life adheres in the state of life itself and cannot be automatically attributed to any person choosing this life option. March-April 1998 "adapt to the needs of their contemporary circumstances/min-istries," they are inevitably going to look different. What the council did not anticipate, however, is that diversity grew within each congregation. To some extent this development was a healthy outcome of greater appreciation of individual personalities, psy-chological needs, spiritual gifts, and so forth. However, unques-tioned diversity (that is, diversity of lifestyle, of theology, of spirituality) within a congregation can erode corporate identity and the possibility of corporate witness. It seems clear that viable religious life of the future will manifest less diversity within each congregation and greater diversity among congregations. Another factor that keeps us from adopting common prac-tices and behaviors is a fear of restorationism, a concern that someone will try to reverse the passage of history and return us to the practices we discarded years ago. We can see, if we reflect on the learnings of these intervening years, that such a reversal is not even remotely possible. Our failure, however, is that for the most part we have not identified and reflected on the learnings of these years of renewal. We have not asked ourselves how our cur-rent practices express our love for Jesus Christ and our commit-ment to the church in a credible way,.how they support and enhance our mission, how they promote greater passion for the gospel and for the service of the poor and needy. Our lack of crit-ical reflection on our present reality leaves the task of evaluation to those outside our midst who are often ill-informed and intem-perate in their judgments. Commitment to a corporate mission is an element that needs to be explicitated for each congregation, institute, or society. The articulation needs to be clear and focused if it is to effectively guide the choices of members about their ministries and con-tribute to the public perception of a congregation. On the other hand, the statement of mission usually cannot be reduced to a single ministry unless the congregation is very small or is con-centrated in a small locale. A congregational mission does not exist in isolation; it is an explicitation of some dimension of the church's mission. Therefore it presupposes an understanding of, and commitment to, ecclesial mission. This is an area of challenge for everyone in the church today, including religious. We need to recall that, at its deepest level, the church's mission is about restoring the relationship between God and human persons. It is expressed through good Review for Religious works such as education, social service, healthcare, and public advocacy, but, fundamentally, these are "missionary" only if they have an explicitly religious purpose and meaning. As more and more religious minister in secular or ecumenical and thus non-congregationally sponsored works, it becomes more important than ever to validate the religious dimension of their work. In our first-world milieu, there is probably no social prob-lem or societal need of such aching intensity that only religious with their full-time, lifelong, religious commitment can attend to it. Rather, there is a host of problems or needs---homelessness, ignorance, ill health, violence, social unrest, and so forth--which make legitimate claims on people of the gospel, whatever their state of life. Moreover, these problems exist within a culture tainted by materialism, consumerism, transitoriness, promiscu-ity, loneliness, xenophobia, alienation, and on and on. What reli-gious can do, must do, is offer another way to live within this culture in a personally transformed and transforming way. To that end, our choice of a specific ministry is secondary. What counts is that our ministry flow from and enrich the whole of our con-secrated life. To return to the question with which we began: Where does religious life fit in today's church? I would answer that it is an enduring way of life in which men and women intensify their commitment to Jesus Christ through the evangelical counsels, lived according to a rule. Their rules specify the particulars of their commitment in such a way that its integrity is safeguarded and public witness is enhanced. The mission of each congregation is a participation in the mission of the church, specified in a way that meets contemporary needs and focuses the corporate energies and witness of the congregation. Is this the answer one can give an inquirer, a potential new member, perhaps one's niece or nephew? The answer might seem theoretical or academic. A better answer might be that religious life is an affair of the heart. It offers, within the church, a dynamic yet tested way to follow Jesus Christ more closely and to serve him more generously, and to do this with the support of others who share this same passion. Notes *The Apostolic Exhortation on Consecrated Life, Vita consecrata (§I04), asks this very question: "What is the point of the consecrated life?" March-April 1998 Gottemoeller * Religious Life: Where Doe~ It Fit? 2 Lumen gentium, §§40 and 42. See, too, all of chap. 5, "The Call of the Whole Church to Holiness." 3"NCCB National Study of the Diaconate," Origins 25, no. 30 (1996): 501. Survey respondents included deacons, their wives, their priest super-visors, and parish lay leaders. 4 David N. Power OMI, "Theologies of Religious Life and Priesthood," in A Concert of Charisms: Ordained Ministry in Religious Life, ed. Paul K. Hennessy CFC (New York: Paulist Press, 1997), pp. 80-81. s David J. Nygren CM and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1993), "Affiliative Decline and Role Clarity," pp. 248-249. Or see "The Religious Life Futures Project: Executive Summary," Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55, at Conclusion 5, pp. 47-48; or see "The Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 258-272, at Part IV, no. 5. 6 Patricia Wittberg SC, The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders: A Social Movement Perspective (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1994), p. 251. 7 Wittberg, Rise, p. 256. In the latter quotation Wittberg is citing Nygren and Ukeritis, "Future," Origins 22, no. 15, p. 268; or see "Religious Life Futures Project," Review for Religious 52, no. 1, p. 37. 8Wittberg, Rise, p. 256, credits these points to Mary Jo Leddy, Reweaving Religious Life, p. 73. 9 Religious Life 21, no. 3, pp. 4-5. ~o Vita consecrata, §3 (emphasis in the original). II ~/~ta consecrata, §31. 12 Vita consecrata, §§18, 32, and 105. ~3 See editor's note in Religious Life Review (July 1996), p. 25 I. 14The Final Report from the 1985 extraordinary session of the Synod of Bishops, dealing with the implementation and interpretation of Vatican II, says: "The ecclesiology of communion cannot be reduced to purely organizational questions or to problems which si.mply relate to powers." Se~ Origins 15, no. 27 (19 December 1985), p. 448. 15 The following paragraph of Vita consecrata (§31) speaks of"a new and special consecration which, without being sacramental, commits [reli-gious] to making their own--in chastity, poverty, and obedience--the way of life practiced personally by Jesus and proposed by him to his dis-ciples." 1:60 Review for Religious STEPHEN DE LA ROSA Creative Fidelity: Renewal in the Spirit of St. John of God Spirituality is a way of living: life as relationship with God, neighbor, and self. The beliefs, practices, and moral norms of many various spiritualities guide people's inte-rior life. The demands of daily living and the challenges of our time call upon people's various spiritualities for a response. As Brothers of St. John of God, we respond to the needs of the sick, abandoned, poor, and dying,. This response demands an interior disposition of patience, kindness, understanding, fortitude, and physical energy. Often our responses are made in the midst of adversity from limited material and financial resources. A recent book says, "Spirituality is understood to include not merely the techniques of prayer but, more broadly, a conscious relationship with God, in Jesus Christ, through the indwelling of the Spirit." St. John of God never lost faith, hope, and love. In the midst of great suffering, he always responded to those in need. Since such responses are not easy, every generation of Hospitaller Brothers of St. John of God is confronted with a spiritual attitude called hardness of heart. It begins with feelings of staleness or stagnation. The soul feels lifeless. The spirit becomes deadened. To move away from apathy and feel our actions rean-imated, what we need is an interior disposition of wonder Stephen de la Rosa OH was provincial for nine years and is now formation director of his province. His address is Hospitaller Brothers of St. John of God; 2035 West Adams Boulevard; Los Angeles, California 90018. spiritua renewal March-April 1998 De La Rosa * Creative Fidelity and awe, a renewal process that leads to a rebirth. This move-ment can be called "creative fidelity," a continuing response under the impulse of the Holy Spirit to the challenges of present moments as they come along. Fidelity of this kind is based on a certain relationship that is felt to be inalterable, an assurance of something that cannot be fleeting. When we say "creative fidelity" in the context of the spirituality of the Brothers of St. John of God, there arises a specific image: because of his interior life, St. John of God, who lived more than four hundred years ago, was able to be endlessly resourceful. St. John of God had many sides to his personality. Leaving home at an early age, he soon joined the army and soon ran into many difficulties. Going to Africa in search of more meaningful experience, he labored for people who were in dire need. He struggled with his own sinfulness and encountered mental ill-ness. Yet he went forward for the sake of the sick and forsaken and experienced his conversion in serving thousands of the sick in Granada. In short, John's life was not an easy one. But it is in this simple yet profound life that we discover the elements of the "creative fidelity" to which his disciples, sharers of his spiritual-ity, are called. St. John of God showed by example how to live in creative fidelity to the Spirit of God. The root of his creative fidelity is summed up in his constant proclamation "I trust solely in Jesus Christ."2 This trust in God was basic to his interior disposition. It is what enabled him to take on the inevitable difficulties of liv-ing in a world of p~in and suffering. Hospitality as a spirituality is a way of being and acting in the midst of suffering. It is a love that leads to caring for, and a caring that leads to love of, those who suffer. St. John of God could see the image of God in the suffering of those he called his brothers and sisters. Such an ability is a form of authentic human development. In his lifetime John of God motivated peo-ple to act hospitably in the midst of difficulties, and today he does so too. He remarks in a letters to a friend, "Remember our Lord Jesus Christ and how he returned good for the evil they did to him.''3 Connected with the notion of creative fidelity are the signs of the times and the challenges arising from them. Creative fidelity, in the spirituality of St. John of God, is the working out of the implications of our beliefs, adapting to the reality we live in, so Review for Religious that our human spirit can "act justly, love tenderly, and walk humbly with our God" (Mi 6:8-9). ,. John of God is not simply a poetic figure who stands outside the mainstream of his time. He felt the pain and abandonment of the sick and suffering and was enormously sensitive to what the public agencies of the time were not doing for others. His mes-sage, "Do good to yourself by doing good for others,''4 was an amazing message calling for contemplation, conversion, and com-passion and for commitment to alleviating people's suffering. It is this process, a cycle of renewal, which I call cre-ative fidelity to the spirit of St. John of God. Responding to the needs of our times requires a soulful response, requires that we Brothers be contemplative. Contemplative prayer involves seeing and being aware of the truth in a universal manner. It .means being aware of our surroundings. It is about movement and action or the lack thereof. For St. John of God, this awareness meant "Always have charity, for where there is no charity God is not there-- even though God is everywhere.''s The Brother of St. John of God who takes a contemplative stance tbward life, especially the life of suffering, will experience a great depth of happiness, peace, and love. He will also be able to sense their absence. There is an interior joy in seeing and understanding the meaning and reason of human suffering. Seeing the truth of suffering calls us to con-version. To act on what we see requires conversion. Contemplation allows us to see injustice, to confront our own needs, and to be open to a newness of heart. Hospitality to a stranger means wel-coming someone unfamiliar. It means recognizing another's vul-nerability compassionately. The interior elements of this response open us up to our helplessness. John says in a letter: "I am very unhappy when I see so many poor people (who are my brothers and neighbors) suffering and in great need in both body and soul and I cannot help them. Nevertheless, I trust solely in Jesus Christ, who will bring me out of debt, for he knows my heart." 6 The interior awareness of our helplessness is the beginning of creative fidelity. An authentic spiritual response includes a fidelity to Christ and the gospel, a fidelity to our fellow human beings and to our Hospitality as a spirituality is a way of being and acting in the midst of suffering. March-April 1998 De La Rosa * Creative Fidelity times, a fidelity to the charism of St. John of God, and a fidelity to the church and its mission in the world. The spiritual life of a Brother of St. John of God challenges us to present new answers to the new problems of today's world, not so very different from the times of St. John of God, when racism, greed, hatred, fanaticism, and economic inequities--and much indifference to such things, too--caused many human ills. People marginalized people, keeping them out of and alienated from the dominant social order or making them so. We too are faced with the isolation of the sick, the derelict, the aged, and the dying. Today we too place people in categories that dehumanize, that make human relations less than ideal. Through his spirituality St. John of God recognized the vulner-ability of others and recognized his own. Hospitality, for St. John of God, is a spiritual movement toward unity with God and neigh-bor. He goes beyond empathy to actually taking on the suffer-ings of the other. In his own experience of alienation, of being locked up in a mental hospital, St. John of God had an experience of"I am at home" and was liberated to be a brother to the poor and abandoned. Conversion leads to compassion. For the Brother of St. John of God, hospitality is the apostolic expression of love. Hospitality exposes the giver to the forma-tive experience of vulnerability. St. John of God was challenged by the needs of his time. He looked into himself and recognized the need to change. He looked outside of himself and saw the needs of suffering humanity. He surrendered to God and dis-covered a deeper relational integrity among the different dimen-sions of his life. He discovered that within the self there is little or no way of restoring people to their fullness. He turned in his need to total reliance on God. As we trace his spiritual journey, we see that this experience of trust in God allowed him, and allows future generations of his followers, to be formed in the image of the compassionate and merciful Christ, who emptied himself of his divinity and went about doing good, healing every kind .of infirmity. Hastened by the words of the sermon of St. John of Avila which brought about his conversion, St. John of God discovered the merciful love of God the Father and experienced God's com-passion as a remedy for his own sense of alienation. He experi-enced the compassion and merciful love of the Father as God's fidelity to him. New circumstances demand new responses, which Review for Religious in turn demand ongoing renewal and openness to conversion, which allows our response to be one of compassion. Hospitality, thus, means becoming one with the stranger, as the Son of God became a human being, emptying himself of his divinity to free us in mercy and compassion to respond to the Father's love. Fidelity to the charism of hospitality is lived as a spirituality when, in the presence of suffering people, we are emp-tied of our own pride, memories, or hostilities to be present to others not as the remedy or the source of healing, but quite sim-ply as a compassionate companion committed to the liberating power of the Spirit, an encounter of solidarity and communion. The spiritualized Brother of St. John of God is one who knows that God is communicating with him. But this deifying force does not remain closed in on itself; it radiates out of him to others--which means a true and real "horizontal diffusion" of the Spirit.7 In this manner a Brother of St. John of God partici-pates in the self-emptying act of the Son of God. "They don't just participate in him but they also communicate him to others. ¯. They don't just live, but they give life to others, and all of this is not something that pertains to a simple creative force." s At first glance it appears that John of God never asked any questions about what he should do; he just responded to the need at hand. Questions about whom to help and how to help them seem neither to have been noticeable in John's way of acting nor relevant to his cast of mind. He saw a needy person and acted. His fundamental healing project was to revitalize people's sense of integrity by restoring their human dignity. Yet, in his unwavering commitment to those in need, he did listen to his spiritual direc-tor, who warned him: "Do not deceive yourself by saying, 'I want to help them.' Because dangers lurk beneath good intentions when there is a lack of prudence, and God does not want me to bring about good for others at the expense of damage to my own soul.''9 Similarly, our own commitment needs to be tested against our fidelity to St. John of God's charism and to the church. The exterior structures of the church of today are in a state of permanent change. However, the Brother of St. John of God who, having experienced faith as a gift from a loving Father, does not rely just on exterior norms. Instead he looks to create an ever growing experience of a community of hope. The spirituality of St. John of God--and that of his Brothers as well--is an "in the church " spirituality. "In the church " refers to the church as it March-April 1998 De La Rosa * Creative Fidelity defines itself here and now and as it grows from the present into the future. For a Brother of St. John of God, fidelity to this growth is one of searching in the context of suffering for ways that we and others can grow in our human spirit. As Pope John Paul II says in Evangelium vitae, "We are called to express won-der and gratitude for the gift of life and to welcome, savor, and share the gospel of life." (§84). Our commitment is to human life. It is in living this life that we discover the interior life of the soul. Creative fidelity allows us to make a commitment to the spirituality of St. John of God in such a way that we see this truth that Evangelium vitae expresses: "Human life is sacred because from its beginning it involves 'the creative action of God,' and it remains forever in a special rela-tionship with the Creator, who is its sole end. God alone is the Lord of life from its beginning until its end; no one can claim for himself the right to destroy directly an innocent human being" (§53). The service of the Brother of St. John of God to the sick, the suffering, and the abandoned is a spiritual act of dedicated devotion to the person of Christ. Those who wish to be true fol-lowers of St. John of God will grasp his spirit and. nurture it. Like him they will find great consolation in the contemplation of the Passion. Such contemplation is much more than the sentimentally pious 16th-century practice that some might consider it to be. "When you are troubled or distressed, turn to the Passion of Jesus Christ our Lord and to his precious wounds, and you will feel great consolation," he wrote,l° This practice sustained him in his vision of love and assistance for those in need. We have seen how spiritual growth can occur within a spiri-tuality of hospitality. God calls us personally, and our response-- we are calling it "creative fidelity"--is our effort to understand more broadly and deeply the purpose and meaning of St. John of God's spirituality as embodied by our Brothers today. We are looking at a theological pattern that emerges in his spirituality and can help us in our ongoing renewal: contemplation, conver-sion, compassion, and commitment. In our experience of living out the spirituality of St. John of God, we are able to note how bringing the word of God to bear upon a situation raises questions, suggests new insights, and opens new interior responses. In this manner we continue to learn how to be faithful to suffering humanity in its needs in these o

Issue 57.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1998. ; f,or relig i ous C~sfian Heritages and Cont~empora~ Living MAY-JUNE 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all wl~o find that the church's rich ¯ heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondeuce with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming $3 Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough°OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Chr~s6an Heritages and Contemporary L~v~ng MAY-JUNE 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 3 contents 230 247 responding to the spirit Journey Inward, Journey Outward: ATheology of Call Gregory J. Polan OSB brings together personal experience and patterned scriptural examples in discussing the mystery of vocation. An Itinerant Approach to Theological Updating Marie Chiodo DW and Mary Irving SSND set forth a four-stage process used in one province's theological updating. 26O 275 celibacy and sexuality Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life Donald J. Goergen OP considers various aspects of sexuality and celibacy that contribute to a healthily centered religious life. Skills Needed for Celibacy Martin Pable OFMCap focuses on celibacy as a set of behavioral skills by which people can assess their own (and candidates') actual living of the charism. Review for Religious 286 299 finding God The Books That Led Ignatius to God Joseph N. Tylenda SJ presents Ignatius Loyola as an example of spiritual reading bringing about a lifelong conversion. The Desert as Spiritual Landscape Dennis J. Billy CSSR finds in a desert sojourn risk, humbling reality, and whispers of hope. 304 report Women Religious and Sexual Trauma Paul N. Duckro, John T. Chibnall, and M. Ann Wolf present summary data from their extensive survey on this sdrious and sensitive topic and offer some pertinent reflections. departments 228 Prisms 314 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Poverty 320 Book Reviews ~Ylay-June 1998 The Spirit is God's mark of ownership on you. le on a recent visit to South Africa, I noticed how often automobiles have distinguishing num-bers, letters, or symbols painted boldly on their doors and even on their rooftops. I came to realize that these signs are not just expressions of beauty or individuality, but they provide a visible way of claiming ownership and discour-aging carjacking or thievery. St. Paul exhorted the members of his Christian com-munities to rejoice because the Spirit is God's mark of ownership over them. As we celebrate Pentecost in this year dedicated to the Holy Spirit, we may have a certain longing for tongues of fire as a vivid experience of the Spirit's presence and power in our lives. But I wonder whether today we in the Christian community seize the opportunity to welcome the gripping--though common-place-- idea of the Spirit as God's ownership. We own things, but we do not like to think of ourselves as being owned, even by God. We want to think of ourselves as autonomous, free, in charge of our own fate. Sometimes, though, we may admit to ourselves how much we have bought into (or, perhaps more correctly, "been bought by") the values of our culture, the prejudices of our eth-nic groups, and the political assumptions of our times. We are likely owned in many more ways than we care to discover--and we may show it by the way we live! Perhaps, then, we need to work at making our lives belong more visibly to God. Our Pentecost experience may not include rushing wind or fiery tongues, but the presence of the Spirit in our lives is still meant to be--as in Paul's communities-- the mark of God's ownership. Sometimes we too facilely identify the church as a hierarchical church or, more in Review for Religious vogue today, a church of the laity. But the truest reality is that the church is one people assembled, all belonging to the Spirit, marked with God's ownership. Living this reality consciously is part of our personal efforts in preparing for the millennium. Our personal witnessing of this reality is central to our evangelizing efforts, more necessary in the secularizing trends of our times than in Paul's Roman Empire days. What does God's ownership mean for us? God's ownership of us, marked by the presence of the Spirit in our lives, is meant to shine out in our way of acting. The traditional expression is "giving glory to God." Giving glory means that we become trans-parent enough that God and God's life and God's love can shine out through us. For example--to draw from the everyday behav-iors suggested by St. Paul--the way we talk. St. Paul stresses that a person marked by the Spirit speaks only helpful words, words that build up and provide for what is needed. It is how Jesus speaks. What we say should do good for those who hear us. Beyond our words, what can distinguish our dealings with peo-ple- the occasions for God's glory to shine out in us--is our kind-ness and our readiness to forgive. It is how Jesus acted. At a time in our world when massacres of Christians by Christians take place in Rwanda and Burundi, when fellow Christians seek revenge for age-old wrongs in Northern Ireland, when Orthodox, Catholic, and Muslim (all believers in the one God) slaughter one another in ethnic feuds, we can rightly won-der about our welcoming God's Spirit as a mark of God's ownership over us. But let us look into our own mirrors. When everyday human interaction includes ourselves as automobile drivers whose road rage leads us to endanger others, when we "good people" con-tinue to flee from neighborhoods that are in the process of racial integration, when we find ourselves hardened to the reality of abor-tion and assisted suicide, we can question whether we as individu-als and as communities have allowed the Spirit enough welcome to dwell within us, whether God's ownership of us shines out. In an engaging childlike way, St. Paul exhorted the early Christians not to make the Spirit sad. As we celebrate this year specially dedicated to the Spirit, we need to assess whether our Christian living shows forth God's ownership. Or do we make the Spirit sad? David L. Fleming SJ May-June 1998 229 GREGORY J. POLAN Journey Inward, Journey Outward: A Theology of Call 230 As someone who has studied the Scriptures for a number of years, I find reflection on a theology of call particu-larly interesting for several reasons. First, there is much to be said from the perspective of the Scriptures, from Abraham and Moses in the Hebrew Scriptures to Mary and Paul in the Christian Scriptures. Second, as rector of a college seminary for almost a decade, as spiritual direc-tor to both men and women religious over the years, and now as abbot of a Benedictine community, I have been privileged to hear stories of divine in-breaking in the lives of many people--stories as varied as the people who revealed them and as similar as the human nature we all have. The beauty and sacredness of these accounts tell of divine and human communion struggling to express itself in words, yet unable to relate its richness fully. And, third, something within me longs to continue the search for a deeper understanding of my own call and its meaning, past, present, and future. Those who help others discern their call should know well, understand fully, and discover anew the source of their own calling. The vocational story of each person is sacred; it is rich in faith. Our growth in faith should enable Gregory J. Polan OSB, the abbot of Conception Abbey, teaches courses in Scripture at Conception Seminary College and serves on the editorial board of The Bible Today. His mailing address is Conception Abbey; Conception, Missouri 64433. Review for Religious us to see with new eyes what God was choreographing in our first encounters .with the divine. The episodes of divine in-breaking in our own lives should say more to us now than they did thirty, twenty, or ten years ago or maybe just a year ago. The mystery of God's plan in our lives can be a source of strength and hope, of deepened faith and commitment, of renewed zeal and joyful response, of serious reflection and lighthearted humor for us and for others. Thus, the experience of renewing our call can be both a journey inward and a journey outward. I would like to consider some of the major call narratives of the Scriptures from a form-critical perspective, then move to a consideration of their meaning in our own lives by reflecting on their theological significance, and, finally, consider their rele-vance in the lives of candidates who come to us in our roles as vocation directors or directors of formation. Though these remarks are directed primarily to those who help candidates dis-cern a vocation to the ordained ministry or religious life, they may also help all who seek to rediscover the roots of their calling and to discern God's will in their lives. A Form-Critical View of Biblical Call Narratives For at least ten years, biblical scholars have been challeng-ing the practices of the historical-critical method of scriptural exegesis and showing its limitations. Solid scholarship has warned us about paying too much homage to historical criticism. It is not dead; it is just not the god some had made it out to be. Bringing different questions to the text for our topic at hand, I have found form criticism particularly helpful. Form criticism considers the oral transmission of a tradition and attempts to discover the life situation from which it arose. One aspect of form criticism has been neglected: its potential for revealing a theological message in a text. One effort of form crit-ics is to see a common pattern of thought among texts. Such a pattern reveals the manner in which a text unfolds in a topical, nearly thematic, presentation. For example, in laments of the Psalter, the thought pattern is rather consistent: The speaker (1) makes a plea for divine assistance, (2) describes the situation that causes distress and (3) tells God why divine assistance is needed, (4) then expresses a certain trust that God will heed the request, and, finally, (5) makes a promise to God or acknowledges deliv- May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward There are significant repercussions not only for the one being called, but for others as well. erance from other distressing situations. With remarkable con-sistency this pattern runs through the laments of the Psalter. But discovering the pattern is not the place to stop. There is more to be said, particularly on a theological level. What is the theological significance? How is it that our ances-tors in the faith followed such a pattern to express their need for divine assistance? Is there something in the human spirit that rec-ognizes these elements as essential when a person comes before God in a time of need? I suggest that, more than simple ancient conventions, the elements reveal to us something deep in the experience of the human-divine dialogue. The pattern is a perceptive sketch of the mystery of faith found in a particular kind of human expe-rience. "The Form and Significance of the Call Narrad;ces," a 1965 article by Norman Habel of Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, distinguishes a pattern found in several call narratives of the Old Testament: ~ 1. The divine confrontation. God or a divine messenger enters the scene. It is clear that a divine encounter is to take place. 2. The introductory word. A particular preparatory or explana-tory statement sets the scene further. It can be a greeting or a few clarifying words. 3. The commission. Next the person receives a direct command or imperative relating the task that lies ahead. 4. The objection. Invariably, there is a negative. The person shrinks from what seems to be an overwhelming task. 5. The reassurance. God (or the messenger) responds immedi-ately, assuring the person that the task will not have to be accom-plished alone; divine assistance will be on hand. 6. The sign. Though not every call narrative includes a sign, several do. In a sense, the sign continues the assurance of number 5 by guaranteeing that the promise God has made will be carried out. The divine word is faithful. I would like to illustrate the elements of this pattern, first revisiting biblical scenes and then relating them to our own sense of call and our work with candidates for the seminary and religious life.2 Review for Religious The Divine Confrontation (Scene 1) The biblical scene. Key to the significance of the opening scene is that God is breaking into ordinary life in an extraordinary way. The cattle-herder Amos tells of "being snatched away" from car-ing for his herd and being told to "go and prophesy" to neighbors who are at civil war with his own people (Am 7:15). In some mys-terious way the person being called knows that a divine encounter has taken place. The prophet Ezekiel is sitting by the river Chebar in Babylon when he encounters God. He comments, "The hand of the Lord was upon me" (Ezk 1:3). God enters the human scene. A visible manifestation of the divine presence has taken place. Scholars suggest that insistence on direct contact with the divine was seen as necessary for one who stood as mediator between God and other mortal beings) Consistently, the person being called "sees" God or something divine. Isaiah sees "the Lord sit-ting on a throne, high and lofty" (Is 6:1). Jeremiah tells of his experience in "the council of the Lord" (Jr 23:18). When the priests and prophets of the temple say Jeremiah deserves death for his harsh condemnation of the temple, he responds, "The Lord sent me to prophesy against this house and this city all the words you have heard . As for me,here I am in your hands. Do with me as seems good and right to you" (Jr 26:12, 14). The words are not Jeremiah's. He is a mouthpiece for God. What is important for our reflectiofi is that the call scene is of divine origin. And in each case, because God is acting, there are significant repercussions not only for the one being called, but for others as well. The divine confrontation situates an event of great importance for those who hear or read about the one called. Consider the divine confrontation in the call of Mary of Nazareth. At a critical moment in the history of salvation, God enters the scene through an angelic messenger--the divine presence is essen-tial. It signals a turning point, not only for the person receiving the call, but also for others--here, the whole human race. To support the significance of the divine origin and its impact, we need only ask how the Book of Jeremiah ever came to enter the canon of Scriptures. Its message from beginning to end (with rare moments of hope) is gloom and doom, suffering and pain. Why would such a message be reverenced as a measuring rod of the faith of Israel and the church? I suggest it was because of the con-viction that the prophet was visited by God, and the message he Mlay-June 1998 Polan ¯ ~ourney Inward, Journey Outward delivered, harsh and biting as it was, was true. The community of faith deemed it authentic, of divine origin. For the vocation director. Divine intervention is sometimes dif-ficult for us to express in words. Yet it is an important, even essen-tial, experience for each of us to examine. I dare say God is never more clearly God than when we experience divine presence and know we have been called. For Isaiah it was being in the pres-ence of the wholly/Holy Other (Is 6:35). While it need not be a "bolt of lightning," an encounter of "otherness" reveals divine in-breaking. And, if we take the Scriptures as our norm, it is the wholly/Holy Other who has called us. What remains is to dig deep within, to recover the moment or moments, to claim them as sacred, and to struggle to wrap words around what will never be adequately expressed. One of my favorite spiritual writers, Maria Boulding, speaks of divine encounter with eloquence and simplicity: "We live very close to a mysterious presence. God is 'nearer to me than I am to myself,' as St. Augustine put it, but we do not see or understand him. God is utterly mysterious, and strangely gentle. When he makes himself known we are confounded, yet at the heart of our bewilderment there is a sense of recognizing something we have always known. There is nothing else quite like it in our whole experience."4 It has been important for me to return to the moments of my call and see them in their stark simplicity. This return has awak-ened in me both a sense of the seriousness of the divine call in my life and a daily awareness of the divine presence steering me toward fuller, more joyful and faithful responses to everything around me. I have come to see how it was that God called me in my utter weakness, in my fears, in my doubts, in my naivet~, in my immaturity, and even in my sinfulness. God called me beyond those self-absorbing concerns and into new life. And as I con-tinue to return to themoments of God's call, an understanding of the meaning of divine visitation becomes fuller, brighter, and deeper. For the candidate. In A Touch of G~d, Dom Philip Jebb tells a personal story of an experience early in his religious life. It speaks to this point rather well: After a period of almost delirious joy in my praying, I had an experience of annihilation: I felt that I was being sucked into a "black hole." It was a positive experience of noth- Review for Religious ingness. It was the most horrific experience I have ever had: I seemed to be teetering on the edge of becoming nothing. This was not physical, it was not precisely in the mind, it was in the spirit, in the very roots of my being. I went to Dom Leander in a real terror, feeling that at any moment I was going not only out of my mind, but out of existence. And, when I told him of it in words of panic and despera-tion, he replied, "This is marvelous! The best thing that could happen to you; I only wish I were there with you in this." And I said, "If you can say that, then you have no comprehension of what I am talking about." He assured me that he did, and that I was experiencing the infinity and total otherness of God. In prayer we keep making concepts or ideas of God, and then making these into God, but, as we remain faithful to God and God to us, he has to break out of everything that appears to contain him, the bottom has to drop out of the world and the effect appears to be one of annihilation . It was at this time that I wrote a poem which begins, "Wonder is so sudden a gift.''s More than a few times in my experience as spiritual director, as seminary rector, and even now as abbot, someone has come to me in tears with a story similar in its horror but unique in its description. It is important that we be alert to the circuitous and mysterious paths God takes in human experience. Though so often it is God who provides the tender and gentle reminder of divine compassion amidst the assaults on our spirit, here it is the human director who responsively and kindly helps the struggling person understand that encounters with the divine often entail a night like Jacob's--who was afterward renamed Israel (Gn 32:22- 32). But, unless our own experience of the divine is close at hand, we risk missing the signs of a turning point, a moment of grace, a transition, an experience of conversion in the life of the candi-date. The Introductory Word (Scene 2) The biblical scene. The introductory word is important because it establishes a relationship between the human person and God. Here the person's importance before God is made clear. The word to the great unknown prophet of Second Isaiah was a promise of a covenant renewed in comfort and forgiveness (Is 40:1-3). For Mary of Nazareth, God's own delight in her is expressed: you are the "favored one; the Lord is with you" (Lk 1:28). Mary is indeed May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward special among God's people. Jeremiah is told that, before he was formed in his mother's womb, he was set apart to share in a divine mission (Jr 1:5). The introductory word makes the person receptive to the divine word that will come. It says that the divine choice is pre-ceded by divine love.6 The election to a special vocation comes, not because of talent or giftedness first, but out of divine love. Divine delight impels God to call the person to share in the salvific and redemptive plan. Here the word of God informs the person that he or she has a relationship with God that has been and is touched by blessing. Like God's constant and watchful love for Israel through desert wanderings and times of infidelity is the same divine love ever accompanying the recipient of God's call. The divine word is present in fidelity, in the assurance that God's justice--that is, right relationship--has inaugurated communion even before the commission is announced. For the vocation director. Whatever we hear in the Scriptures, even in the most obscure passages, tells us "who we are in rela-tionship to God." As with the introductory word of our call-nar-rative pattern, so the Scriptures constantly tell how God chooses to become one with us in all ages and times. Even in the harsh judgments given to Jeremiah to proclaim, we are reminded that God knows Israel's destruction is a prelude to its being rebuilt and renewed (Jr 1:10). In Hosea's suffering with his unfaithful wife, we are reminded not so much of human infidelity as of God's desire for healing and the restoration of a relationship of mutual intimacy and communion (Ho 2:21-2 3; NRSV). The introductory word or the call narrative is a sacrament of the divine word, the whole of Scripture. It is the font of truth and wisdom that reveals our truest identity. For those of us who are involved in the work of formation and discernment, God's word carl be the surest source of daily nourishment, satisfying and building up an inner vitality. For us who have experienced a call and responded to it, the divine word unfolds an ever deepening realization of "who we are" and "what we are to become" before God. By our attentive listening to the word of God, our awareness of God's voice in our daily lives is heightened and sensitized. A favorite passage of mine which strongly witnesses to such attentive listening comes at the end of the Book of Deuteronomy. As the people stand ready to cross over the .Jordan, their leader Moses says, as part of his final words to them: "This commandment that I enjoin on you today is not too Review for Religious hard for you, nor is it too far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, 'Who will go up to heaven for us and get it for us that we may hear it and observe it?' Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, 'Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us and get it for us, so that we may hear it and observe it?' No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart; you have only to carry it out" (Dt 30:11-14). If we choose to be a people of the word, the word will trans-form us by its inherent power. In that power we will come to the deepest sense of our own identity and, importantly, the rich identity of every per-son created by God. For the candidate. In recent years I have been struck by the pastoral sensitivity of one of the members of the hierarchy, Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini sJ. In 1979 he was appointed archbishop of Milan. Before that, he had been rector of the Pontifical Biblical Institute (1969-1978) and of the Gregorian University (1978- 1979) in Rome. He is a man of interna-tional reputation as a biblical scholar, a text critic to be exact. He was a member of a team of five text critics (and the only Catholic) that prepared the most up-to-date critical edition of the Greek New Testament, In Milan he inaugurated a program of spiritual renewal for the young adults of the city. He met with them weekly to read and discuss the Scriptures, dealing with a particular book of the Bible or a biblical theme.7 Martini always began with a brief explanation of the texts under consideration; but after this presentation it was time for the young adults to talk, to ask ques-tions, and to pray from the Scriptures--to be formed according to the word of God. I would like to suggest that, in this era after the Second Vatican Council, we use the Scriptures with ever greater convic-tion as our document of faith in the work of formation. From cover to cover the Bible tells us time and time again what I con-sider essential for the experience of formation: (1) our identity in relationship to God, the divine-human relationship moving toward communion; (2) the continuous call to conversion, the need for the sinner to return to God; and (3) the meaning of the paschal mystery, our union with Christ in the experience of suf- The introductory word or the call narrative is a sacrament of the whole of Scripture. 2Vlay-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward fering, dying, and rising to new life. In a time when our candidates suffer deprivation of Catholic culture, we can use the divine word to get them rooted in the reality of God's steadfast love for them and aware of the offer of redemption which is theirs and ours each day. The Commission and the Objection (Scenes 3 and 4) The biblical scene. At the moment when God gives the imper-ative, there is a sharp demarcation between the past and future of the one being called. A new course is being charted. The com-mission from God encapsulates the task that lies ahead. There is a clear sense that the one being commissioned goes in the name of God, as a kind of ambassador--not to give his or her own word, his or her own decision, but God's. The mission is a divine one; and, fittingly, it is the challenge of a lifetime. For Moses, slow of speech, it was to deliver God's command to release the Hebrew slaves. For Amos it was to enter the territory of his enemies and there deliver a condemnatory message. For Isaiah it was to con-tinue speaking God's word, to make the hearts of the people even more sluggish than they were. Mary, the fianc6e of Joseph, was told that she would bear a son who would assume the Davidic throne; she was to be the mother of the Messiah. At this point the narrative moves into a moment of tension. Clearly, the task is beyond the person's immediate or native capa-bilities. The task is so different that the commission becomes life-altering. The cattle-herder Amos will become an orator. The tender of flocks, Moses, is to be a political mediator. The priest Ezekiel will assume the role of a prophet. Because of this mis-sion, life will no longer be as it was. By their words and their lives, those being commissioned will witness to God's inteiwention in the history of their people. It is no exaggeration to say that the commission informs the persons that the call has an impact beyond their own life and will touch the lives of the people to whom they belong. It has an impact on the history of God's peo-ple. These people will be living reminders of what God is doing at what appears to be "the turn of the ages." Two scenes that tell of the impact of the commission on the lives of the prophets stand out in my mind. Isaiah had two sons. Each was given a symbolic name to tell the people what God intended to do. One son was called Shear-yashub (Is 7:3), which Review for Religious means "a remnant shall remain." The other son was called Maher-shalal- hash-baz (Is 8:1), which means "quick the spoil, speedy the plunder." Both names tell of an impending doom. In the Scriptures, names are linked to people's identity and mission. The sons of Isaiah reminded him that he was to tell the nation of Judah, "You are damned"--so life-altering was the call to Isaiah! A second scene comes from the confessions of the prophet Jeremiah. In the prophetic literature we rarely glimpse the prophetic experience; what we are given is the words, the utter-ances of the prophets, In the confessions of Jeremiah, however, we have a rare insight into the challenge this prophet faced. Consider this passage: "O Lord, you have enticed me, and I was enticed; you have overpowered me, and you have prevailed. I have become a laughingstock all day long; everyone mocks me. For whenever I speak I must cry out, I must shout, 'Violence and destruction!' For the word of the Lord has become for me a reproach and deri-sion all day long. If I say, 'I will not mention him, or speak any more in his name,' Then within me there is something like a burning fire shut up within my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot" (Jr 20:7-9). Jeremiah says that the mission entrusted to him has brought him nothing but rejection, hatred, and mockery. So he resolves not to speak the words God gives him. But then that very word becomes a raging fire within him; he cannot but utter the message God has given him. He is impelled and driven to accomplish the mission given to him. Both of these passages supplement the com-mission given to the prophet in the call narrative and help us bet-ter appreciate the demands of God's task. Not surprisingly, the person receiving the commission always shrinks from so enormous a challenge. It is difficult to say with certainty where the objection stems from. Some suggest that humility or a sense of inadequacy is the reason: Who would not shrink from the duty of being God's agent?8 The examples drawn from Isaiah and Jeremiah are, in psychological terms, occasions when a person submerges his or her own ego in order to repre-sent or live for another. We may classify such behavior as some-thing unhealthy and odious, but it nevertheless emerges from the biblical text as an example of the personal dynamics involved in the commission and the subsequent objection. Furthermore, it tells us something of what our ancestors in the faith realized when God made total claim upon their lives. May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward For the vocation director. Most of us could tell a compelling story of how the experience of call or the living-out of that call yanked us from something comfortable into something challeng-ing and new. And yet such life-seasoning in the priesthood or religious life has probably brought us considerable blessing to balance the challenge. But there is another aspect of the commis-sion- objection experience we sometimes take for granted: how the response of one has an impact on the destiny of many. We can, at times, become so caught up in what we are doing or how we are responding that we fail to realize that God is in the midst of our activity and that our work for the gospel is having an effect far more sweeping than we can see or realize. We call this phe-nomenon corporate personality from the perspective of the Hebrew Scriptures, and Body of Christ in the Christian Scriptures. We are more intimately bound to one another than we can com-prehend. As the sin of one affects others, so also does the good-ness of one have a ripple effect. And the Scriptures tell us powerfully how the destinies of many are affected by the response in obedience to God's invitation. In Genesis 12:1 God calls Abram to go from his country, his relatives, and his immediate family to a land that will be pointed out to him. Then in Genesis 12:4 the terse description of his response is potent: "So Abram went as the Lord had told him." The text is concise, not because there was nothing to say about the experience, but because the obedi-ence of one with an unknown future was to be the very founda-tion of a people yet to be created--but it started here. The fiat of Mary is another powerful example: theyes of an unassuming young woman set in motion the final eschatological age, the inaugura-tion of the end times. Reflection on such experience in our own lives reveals how our "journey inward" w!ll direct our "journey outward." Consistently in the Scriptures we see how a call by God sends a person on that inward search to respond, to assess the situation, to weigh the daunting challenge. An affirmative response then sets off another dynamic movement. The inward journey then--by divine design, I believe--attaches a person ever more closely to the human fam-ily, to the faith community, to yet unknown persons who will be touched by a faith-filled fiat. In ways mysterious, we become agents of the divine, touching the lives of others by following the call we have received. For the candidate. Some time ago I was struck by the promo- Review for Religious tion materials of a college seminary which promised its students all kinds of benefits: numerous majors from which to choose, big-city life with its hustle and bustle, and high-tech opportunities. Is this what should attract a candidate to the seminary or a religious community? What occurs to me is that, if we are assisting adult men and women in their discernment of God's call, our biblical tradition tells us that we had better be honest in telling them what the divine in-breaking in their lives will bring. Certainly there are rich benefits in responding to the call. There are joys in God's service that cannot be purchased--they are of divine giving. But real challenges lie ahead demanding personal sacrifice of con-siderable magnitude. Further, there are the "nuts and bolts" of what we mean by vocation, by being called. I have to distinguish between my vocation and my career. In essence, as a Benedictine monk I am called to live under a Rule and an abbot, to live in community and where I witness to the meaning of the paschal mystery. This is my vocation. My pre-vious work as rector of a seminary, as teacher, and other things I do are secondary; they are, for want of a better word, my career. And the works of my community are secondary to the essence of our life together. For those who belong to religious communi-ties, getting back to our roots, understanding our charisms, and witnessing to the reasons why we followed the call of God are essential. Those who come to stay with us as they discern God's call will see who we are from only one perspective, from a limited view. They need to receive honest answers to their questions about religious life. We must not promise them anything other than what the gospel promises. Are they in love with the Word they are called to preach and teach and live? Can they happily encourage all to realize their potential in the community of faith, and so assist in building a church of living stones? Every Christian is called into the paschal mystery. But the call to priesthood or religious life is a unique entry into that mys-tery- not better, but special because of its demands. As a novice, I remember, I had a certain fascination with the person of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and an appreciation for his writings, especially those from the time of his imprisonment and his personal struggle to return to his native land. In Life Together Bonhoeffer writes of the call each baptized Christian receives: "When Christ calls a person, he bids that individual, 'Come and die.'''9 Those three words, "Come and die," are a mighty challenge. In my experi- May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward ence of working with college-age candidates for the priesthood and monastic life, I see within them the desire to be challenged to live life more generously, more radically, and more distinctively. VChat we have to do is capture their zeal, help them direct it in a positive and healthy way, and challenge them to selfless service. The Reassurance and the Sign (Scenes 5 and 6) The biblical scene. The reassurance is integral to the develop-ment of the pattern in the call narratives, and important as a response to the objection which has been given. Notice that the divine response is particular to the protest, emphasizing that God will be dynamically present in the situation and intimately involved in the endeavor. There is something distinctly symbolic in the way objections are answered in God's call to Gideon, Moses, and Jeremiah. When the negative reaction comes with an excuse explaining why they cannot respond affirmatively, God simply says, "I am indeed with you." In this response we see a hint of the divine name YHWH, "I am," that is to say, "I stake my name on it." In the biblica'l tradition, personal names are intimately tied up with identity and mission. A person receives a new name, and with that change comes a shift in both identity and mission. For example, the name Abram means "exalted father"; the name Abraham means "father of a host of nations." The word of reas-surance from God links the divine identity with the human mis-sion, forging a bond of divine commitment to this human person and the task at hand. Of further importance here is the under-standing that, in the divine reassurance, the person who has received God's call is now impelled, not by feeling, not by self-direction, but by the power of the divine word. God has given to the one who has been called not only a word to establish rela-tionship, not only a commission, but also a word of reassurance. On equal footing with the word of commission is the word of reassurance. Sometimes there is a further elaboration to heighten the prominence of the reassurance, namely, a sign. Sometimes a sign is asked for, as in the case of Gideon. At other times, God gives a sign--to Moses, for example, in the form of wonders he per-forms before Pharaoh, Mary was told that her kinswoman Elizabeth, even in her old age, had conceived a son; the one thought to be barren was now in her sixth month. The sign is a Review for Religious complement to the divine word and brings to light the full assur-ance that God will be true to the promise already given. For the vocation director. One of the things which the call nar-ratives do not tell us is how it all worked out in the end. We know nothing of the final days of some who received calls, like Amos and Ezekiel. However, there are a few glimpses of successes and failures in prophetic voca-tions. Isaiah's word of advice to Hezekiah saved the people when the threat of Assyria's armies foretold ultimate doom (Is 36-39). The wrenching vocation of Hosea found confirmation in the healing of a bro-ken marriage bond. But the vocation of Jeremiah brought him to gaze on the ruin of Jerusalem as he was carried off against his will to Egypt (Jr 40:13-43:7); where Israel had been a slave, Jeremiah was now a captive. The life of Jeremiah came to symbolize the broken and fragmented experience of Israel's history. Somehow, in the mystery of both successes and failures, there is the belief that God's mission is being accomplished and the call was authentic. Our work in vocation ministry embraces the joys of seeing candidates move into community life or become productive ordained ministers, the sorrows of seeing a call declined, and the anxieties about individuals' uncertain futures whether in respond-ing to God's calls or in rejecting them. How important it is for us to realize that our work as vocation directors is part of a larger vocation, a broader calling that is still unfolding. I am reminded of another autobiographical sketch from A Touch of God that speaks to the mystery of vocation. Maria Boulding recalls her appoint-ment to work in formation: At about the time the Second Vatican Council ended, I was appointed novice mistress and held the job for nine years. It was a complex experience. In some ways it was joy: there was all the dynamism of the council; I had a feeling of being fully used, of being in a job where I could give all I had to give; there was the work with people, and some lasting friendships were established. But there was also, especially in the later years, a sharp sense of personal inadequacy for the work. I helped a few people, but others not at all, and I ended up with a general sense of failure. I am heartily Somehow, in the mystery of both successes and failures, there is the belief that God's mission is being accomplished. 2Ylay-~ne 1998 glad that I was taken off the job, although at the time it was wrench, a little death . At the same time I had another experience of great significance. This was the work of the English Benedictine Congregation's theological com-mission, on which I served for years in the production of Consider Your Call and in other enterprises which grew from that. This whole experience has been one of the most enriching of my entire monastic life . The result of all this experience has been that in those years and subsequently the greatest friendships of my life have flowered. I have found a capacity for friendship with many people both inside and outside my own community, gained confidence in my ability to love and to dare a little more to let myself be loved and known. Even when everything seems primed for a perfect way of living out one's call, the blessing we experience is often not the one we anticipated. And when one door seems to close in our face with a shocking slam, another opens on untold blessings, if we will enter it. In our own calling we are invited to live in the faith of the assurance that was once given to us. What lies at the core of that promise is my willingness to live fully, not in my career, but in my vocation, in my calling. This is not to say that the two are not intimately connected; they are, but they are also separate. In our assignments we live part of our "journey outward" by being of service to others. As vocation directors we give of ourselves by offering our wisdom, by letting our story be known, and by direct-ing others as best we can. In whatever we do, when we live out of our calling, our vocation, we give witness to the ground of our committed life. And there we can enrich the lives of others in ways we do not know, for by living in the power of God's word to us we are able to accomplish much. For ibe. candidate. One great challenge in working with voca-tion prospects is the difficulty they have making a commitment. At times I have asked myself: Do I know more students who have committed themselves to trying the seminary, or do I know more who are "sitting, on the fence"? It is a phenomenon of our society and our age that young adults are making commitments later in life. Our own seminarians gasp when I tell them that I entered the novitiate at age twenty. And yet psychologists tell us that our twenties are the years most formative of the pattern of life we live as adults. What can we do? What should we do? To share with our candidates the reassurances and signs of God in our own experiences could be one of the greatest gifts we Review for Religious offer them. Here we speak from a faith that has been tested and proven to be one of our greatest treasures. If we can help our candidates to view life through the lens of faith, they will see an essential ingredient in living their religious or ordained life. Especially in their youth we need to capitalize on their zeal and enthusiasm for trying new ways and seeing from new perspec-tives. I have been pleasantly surprised to discover only later that the times I have challenged seminarians and spiritual advisees to a deeper faith have been the moments that have stuck with them, even haunted them. Our candidates need the experiences we share with them. Allowing others to hear of our circuitous journeys inward and our journey~ outward may be more formative for our candidates than we realize. What the Scriptures tell us of a theology of vocation has roots in personal experiences of God, experiences that are life-altering. Many of us grew up in a time when priests and religious did not talk much about their experience of call. But, when they did, even the slightest glimpse of their response to God's call set us on fire with zeal, enthusiasm, and the desire to follow their example. That the Scriptures reveal the call narratives in a recognizable literary form tells us that our ancestors in the faith saw such stories as deeply formative, not only for the persons called, but for the whole community of faith. They remind us how sacred our own jour-neys of faith are, not only for ourselves, but for others as well. Reflecting on "call" stories continues our own formation and our development of a theology of vocation. When we discover even mere bits of our own story in the pages of the Bible, we give to others a living theology of vocation. And, when we see our lives reflected on the pages of Scripture, we are strengthened to bring that written word to bear on our own lives. What we have come to consider, then,-is that a theology of vocation unites the journey inward, where we discbver the divine resources given us, and the journey outward, where we live selflessly in accord with the divine word that summoned us. Notes l N. Habel, "The Form and Significance of the Call Narratives," ZAW 77 (1965): 297-323. z The following are the classical call narratives in the Scriptures: Moses (Ex 3:1 - 12); Gideon (Jg 6:1-40); Isaiah (Is 6:1-13); Deutero-Isaiah (Is 40:3-8); Jeremiah (Jr 1:4-10); Ezekiel (Ezk 1 : 1-3:11); Hosea (Ho 1-3); Amos (Am 7:10-17); Mary (Lk 1:26-37). Others that can be considered call May-J~ote 1998 scenes but do not follow the usual pattern include: Abraham (Gn 12:1-4); Samuel (1 S 3:1-4:1); Elisha (1 K 19:19-21); Paul (Ga 1:11-24; Acts 9:1- 19; 22:3-16; 26:2-18); Peter (Mt 4:18-22; Mk 1:16-22; Lk 5:1-11); Matthew (Mt 9:9-13). 3 Habel, "The Form," p. 317. 4 Maria Boulding, The Coming of God (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1982), p. 125. s Philip Jebb, "Wonder Is So Sudden a Gift," in A Touch of God: Eight Monastic Journeys, ed. Maria Boulding (London: SPCK, 1982), p. 7. 6 Gerard Meagher, "The Prophetic Call Narrative," Irish Theological Quarterly 39, no, 2 (1972): 17. 7 A number of these conferences given by Carlo Martini to the young adults of Milan have been translated and published in several volumes; see Carlo Maria Martini, The Joy of the Gospel, trans. James McGrath (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1994). s Habel, "The Form," p. 319. 9 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1954), p. 8. ,0 Maria Boulding, "A Tapestry, from the Wrong Side," in A Touch of God, pp. 33-35. Antiphon in the Style of Hildegard 0 You who made the sharp shinned hawk with red eyes rend the singing sparrows with the silent slice of death, who fill the sunset sky with roses and crows, who paint the breast of the warbler with flashes of your Spirit and crown the finger small kinglet with your blood, bless me with wonder at the paradox of your plans. Like birds, may my heart's croaks and arias praise You. Anne Higgins DC Review for Religious MARIE CHIODO AND MARY IRVING An Itinerant Approach to Theological Updating As an introduction to their book Toward a Human Worm Order, Gerald and Pat Mische recount a parable, "The Coat That Got Too Small." An outsider had met on a strange planet about a hundred fifty gasping and groaning people with contorted faces. Their coats "were much too small. Buttons and zippers were being strained to the limit and seams threatened to tear at the sides. Their bodies bulged against the overstretched fabric as if the contents had been stuffed in with tremendous effort." In talking with one of the women in the group, the out-sider pointed out: "It's your coat . It's too tight . Maybe you should get a new one that fits you better. It looks like this one has served you in the past, but now it is more like a straitjacket than a coat.". After considerable time., she started, between gasps, to tell me their story. They had had these coats since they were young, she said. It seemed to be the fashion. No one ever questioned it before. Marie Chiodo DW, a member of the provincial board of the United States province of the Daughters of Wisdom and an organizational con-sultant, does facilitation and process and program design with religious congregations and other nonprofit groups. Her address is 416 Branch Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20901. E-mail: mchiodo53@aol.com Mary Irving SSND, DMin, served as the itinerant theologian for the Daughters of Wisdom theological renewal process. A consultant in spir-ituality for religious communities, she also teaches and offers retreats and spiritual direction. Her address is 2202 Westview Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. E-mail: mirvingssnd@juno.com . May-finite 1998 Cbiodo and Irving * Theological Updating "But surely you have grown very much since then," I said incredulously, trying to constrain myself. "But what else is there?" She strained, but went on whenever she could get enough breath to say that she liked this coat. It had, after all, been hers for a very long time. 'Tm used to it now. It makes me feel . " She searched for a long time, looking for breath and for the right word. "Secure," she puffed out at last.I The coats help us picture an individual's or a community's unnecessarily limited theological understanding of self and oth-ers, the world, and God. Christian tradition is passed on through time with the in~ent of bringing Jesus Christ's transforming action to each generation of believers. Yet each era brings new cultural and historical settings. The new experiences and new questions about God and the self, others, and the world that arise in these new settings must be brought into a dialogue with the ancient traditions of the faith. From the 15th century to the 19th, new questions about evan-gelization and the education of the poor were raised by many European Christians, including women who were concerned about the care of the sick poor and the education of poor girls. The result was the establishment of numerous "apostolic" religious congregations, a category unknown till then. Vatican Council II's Gaudium et spes, the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, explicitly addressed the new questions and atti-tudes with which the church needed to engage that world, which had been viewed more as an opponent than a friend. If the Christian tradition and contemporary experience do not regu-larly engage in such dialogue, an individual's or a community's "coat" becomes strained and stretched. This article reviews the efforts of women religious to be free of unnecessarily constrictive theological coats, tells of one province's theological updating, and then offers reflections on these matters. An Historical Perspective on Theological Updating The impetus toward theological updating for United States women religious in the late 1990s is the most recent manifestation of a recurring pattern of the past fifty years. Three major moments will illustrate the pattern. The first moment was the expansion of the Catholic school system in the United States. The need for sisters to teach in the Review for Religious many schools often meant that young women religious were sent out to teach with little if any academic preparation. The 1941 doctoral research of Sister Bertrande Myers DC revealed grave inadequacies in the academic and theological preparation of many United States sisters in the first four decades of the 20th cen-tury. A 1949 presentation to the National Catholic Educational Association on the education of young religious sisters by Sister Madeleva Wolff CSC brought this problem to a wider audience. By 1953 the Sister Formation Conference, led by Sister Mary Emil Penet IHM, had been established to initiate a major project: seeing that new members received college degrees before entering the classroom. This effort was fash-ioned from the beginning with an integrated vision: theological, spiritual, and profes-sional elements were to be present simu.lta-neously in the curriculum. The sisters who were sent for master's and doctoral degrees and the young sisters who benefited from their teaching were the first recipients of updated thinking in both theology and pro-fessional fields,z As this integrated profes-sional, theological, and spiritual formation became standard at the undergraduate level, many sisters went on for degrees in higher education in their fields, but their contin-uing theological and spiritual updating was often overlooked. The second historical moment was brought about by the teachings of the Vatican Council in the 1960s. The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen gentium) brought long-for-gotten biblical and sacramental images of the church into focus. The juridical emphasis of the past four hundred years was expanded and deepened by the new prominence given to the bib-lical image of the people of God; the baptismal holiness of the laity was proclaimed once again. The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World transformed centuries of dichotomy between the church and the world into reverent and realistic openness. These and many other documents--for exam-ple, those on liturgy, religious freedom, and revelation--demon-strated the universal church's own desire to let out theological coats, some of which had remained unchanged for centuries. A pervasive if nebulous spiritual hunger discloses itself in the United States culture generally and in the members of many faith traditions. Cbiodo and Irving ¯ Theological Updating Countless short- and longer-term initiatives surfaced in a variety of, congregational, parish, and educational settings, providing necessary biblical and theological.updating for many sisters. Now, thirty years .after the council, a third moment has arrived. The imminence of the millennium heightens in many congregations an awareness of the need for new theological and spiritual coats for these times. Theology expands and deepens in every area. The modern era in culture has yielded to a postmod-ern one. Scientific discoveries at the micro, macro, planetary, and cosmic levels challenge both theology and spirituality. Societies worldwide move increasingly into an awareness of their inter-connectedness and interdependence. A pervasive if nebulous spir-itual hunger discloses itself in the United States culture generally and in the members of many faith traditions. Women religious, too, find theological and spiritual challenges in this new world as well as in the diminishment of their numbers. Many apostolic congregations of women intuit with faith and hope the need for renewal that will enable them to minister better to today's church and society. Some have already initiated such a process. Looking at this spirit-hungry world, other congregations, chapters, and assemblies are recognizing the need for both theological and spir-itual updating for their members. For many, apostolic work of a theological kind provides the initial impetus. But with this moti-vation comes the realization that a sister's own integrity requires that she look to her own theological and spiritual updating if she is to be credible to others. One Province's Story The United States province of the international congrega-tion of the Daughters of Wisdom responded to the mandate of their general and provincial chapters "to deepen the spirituality of the congregation, in order to allow ourselves to be transformed by Wisdom, so as to live according to Her ways and to reveal Her." Responsibility for the implementation that would lead to theo-logical updating about Wisdom was shared by the leadership team and the membership. Leadership saw its role as, first, to initiate the conversations that would identify and articulate the theolog-ical needs among the sisters and then to put in place the structures to respond to those needs. Together sisters, associates, and lay collaborators would take a good look at their theological coats. Review for Reli~ous They would do so in the light of their personal spiritual experi-ence of the charism, contemporary writers and theologians, and the shared wisdom of the community. The leadership team fash-ioned a process that would engage a planning committee, cluster conveners in several geographic areas, and sisters and laypersons in the search for Wisdom. The province numbers approximately a hundred fifty sisters, mostly on the East Coast. Their diverse ministries include edu-cation, healthcare, religious education, retreat work, and social services. For four years the sisters had participated in faith-shar-ing groups called wisdom circles where they had pursued Wisdom spirituality with associates and other laypersons through books, articles, and prayer together. Threads for refashioning theologi-cal coats were already being spun. Yet the sisters wanted more. Though all of them sought Wisdom, there were conflicting views that involved cherished convictions about God and prayer, Christology, the emerging Sophia/Wisdom spirituality, and fem-inist theologizing. A Theological Education Process A four-stage theological education process was developed that would involve sisters, associates, and ministry colleagues in study, reflection, and dialogue on contemporary theology, church tra-dition, and present world realities. The four stages werd: (1) a think tank, (2) an itinerant theologian, (3) a province gathering, and (4) a year of itinerancy. The Think Tank. Twelve sisters with widely differing approaches to God, prayer, and spirituality were invited to be part of a think tank. Their role was twofold: to find out what the operative theologies were among the sisters and to engage in a weekend of discernment focused on the Wisdom charism. The twelve who agreed to participate in the think tank were given several articles for their study and were asked to interview five randomly chosen sisters in the province about their rela-tionship with God. Interview questions were devised for each to use. In the interviews, conducted by phone or face-to-face, the think-tank participants explored who God has been to the sister, how her ideas of God had or had not changed,.and what she still yearned for in her relationship with God. The interviewers took notes from these interactions and formulated their response to May-June 1998 Cbiodo and Irving ¯ Theological Updating this question: From your interviews, what did you learn about the transformation by Wisdom in the life of our sisters? The twelve expressed awe at what took place during these interviews. Sisters spoke candidly and with deep wisdom about their life journeys. One recurring comment was, "No one has ever asked me these questions in the community." Excitement was generated in the province, such that the discernment week-end was not just for an elite twelve. It would now bear the imprint of the spiritual search of all the sisters. The responses collated from the interviews formed the start-ing point of the work on the weekend. In the course of the two days, the twelve sisters and the leadership team prayed and dia-logued as they struggled with the differing and often conflicting theological understandings among themselves. But most notable was the effort to hear and have a reverence for what others cher-ished in the tradition. The vision statement that emerged from the weekend articulated both our commonly held understanding of Wisdom and the theological diversity regarding Wisdom as Sophia/Wisdom and as the Christ: We are united in our desire for the fullness of God's trans-forming love. Consistent with our Congregational tradi-tion, we see ourselves as seekers of God as Wisdom. We acknowledge and accept that we hold diverse understandings of Wisdom: for example, Eternal and Incarnate Wisdom, Jesus, Christ/Sophia, Sophia. As we seek Wisdom, we remain mutually receptive. It is through dialogue and faith sharing that we claim our own individual experience, cherish the experience of others, and in that engagement enrich each other. In so doing, we com-mit ourselves to the process of transformation by Wisdom. This transformation by Wisdom impels us to active involve-ment in our fractured world. Equally important was the emergence of identifiable theo-logical areas that the community needed to explore together in more depth: Christology, feminist spirituality, Wisdom/Sophia. Finding an Itinerant Theologian. The planning included having one theologian walk with the province for an extended period of time. This would provide consistency in content and process. The term itinerant theologian was thus coined. The theological task was clear: to provide exposure to both traditional and contem-porary theology around the areas identified by the think tank. It was also clear that this was to occur in a climate of reverence for Review for Religious diverse theological positions and of openness to understand posi-tions different from one's own. The leadership team proceeded to identify what it sought in a theologian who would walk with the province over the next eighteen months. Criteria indicated some-one who would engage the province in theological reflection on their experience of God/Wisdom; on someone with breadth of knowledge and vision in regard to traditional and contemporary Christology and Wisdom theology; on someone who would respect the differing positions while inviting all to grow in new understandings of Wisdom; on someone who could integrate theology with spirituality. A tall order indeed! But a necessary one if the province was to continue together the retailoring of its theo-logical coats. The leadership team found a person with the theological education and experience in spiritu-ality. What is more, they found a person who knew how to place the contemporary in the heart of the tradition of the church. The retailoring would involve weaving new threads into appropriate ample fabrics, The province--sisters, associates, and other laypersons--would weave various strands together at the province gathering. The Province Gathering. The theme ~elected was "Touching the Textures of Wisdom." A planning .committee was put in place to work with the results of the think-tank weekend and with the itinerant theologian. They developed a design for the four days of the gathering, with particular attention given to content, process, and ritual around the three themes of Christology, Wisdom, and Women. In the months before the gathering, sisters received the results of the think tank and articles in each of these areas for their study and reflection. The gathering itself provided time for reflection on one's own experience, time for input and ritualizing, time to process its meaning, and time to dialogue with one another and with the itinerant theologian about emerging understandings. The atmo-sphere was conducive to forming new insights about God and Wisdom in such a way that sisters did not feel coerced to change We acknowledge and accept that we hold diverse understandings of Wisdom: for example, Eternal and Incarnate Wisdom, Jesus, Christ/Sophia, Sophia. 253 . iYlay-June 1998 Cbiodo and Irving ¯ Theological U.p~,__tin~ the way they approached God. Yet many said they saw both God and Wisdom with new eyes. The consistency, between traditional and contemporary insights regarding Wisdom wove new theo-logical fabrics for many. These fabrics had patterns of theologi-cal themes which the sisters wanted to examine more closely in the itinerant year. The themes were: ¯ Wisdom Christology in the New Testament ¯ Wisdom and Contemplation of God's Creation ¯ Lady Wisdom in the Old Testament ¯ Sophia Theology ¯ Feminist Theology ¯Julian of Norwich ¯ Liberation Theology. This large group of themes needed to be reduced to a man-ageable number. In the end there were three. "Wisdom in the New Testament" was a top choice of four of the six groups. "Sophia Theology" would involve looking at the emerging under-standing of the Trinity from feminist perspectives on Wisdom. "Creation, Women, and God" was to explore theologies of cre-ation emerging from feminist and ecological perspectives. The six cluster groups were scheduled for the fall of 1996 and the spring of 1997. The year began in St. Agatha, Maine, traveled to Islip, New York, Litchfield, Connecticut, and Portsmouth, Virginia, and concluded in Islip. The Year of Itinerancy. The cluster weekends were open to sisters and to invited lay people. Sisters indicated their first and second choices of topics, and attempts were made to honor choices. Sisters in each geographic area were invited to be cluster conveners. This involved their being in contact with the itinerant theologian, seeing to preparation of prayer and ritual, and basically organizing travel and hospitality for sisters and lay people. Several months before their cluster weekend, sisters received articles and materials for their study and reflection. The itinerant theologian traveled to the various sites to conduct the weekend in much the manner of her work at the province gathering: reflection on experience, theolog-ical input, and time for reflection, interaction, and ritual. The Itinerant Theologian's Reflection on the Year The interrelated themes of charism and community serve as pivotal points around which to structure these reflections. Review for Religious Charism. The charism of seeking after Wisdom, of hunger-ing and thirsting for her, is vibrant in the Daughters of Wisdom. For three hundred years the members have been nourished by St. Louis Marie de Montfort's profound biblical and theological book titled The Love of Eternal Wisdom. The province's participa-tion in wisdom circles was apparent in the July gathering and intensified in the cluster groups. Many biblical passages on Wisdom were old familiar friends. Some sisters had broken ground with new research on Wisdom/Sophia; others continued to find richness in Montfort's articulation of Christ as Eternal Wisdom. All were eager to deepen what they knew, to make con-nections, and to move to the unfamiliar, even when risky. This was as true of the women in their seventies, eighties, and nineties as it was of the newest members. The charism was evident in the prayers developed for the opening of both days of each work-shop. Local sisters prepared and led these prayers with remarkable originality, incorporating Scripture, ritual, guided meditations, and dialogue. The prayers' power each time reinforced the truth that the cluster workshops reverenced both the biblical theology that was being presented and the praying community as equal sources of Wisdom. Community. A community is, at any given historical moment, the living incarnation of its charism. In this time of new scholar-ship on biblical Wisdom, more diversity has surfaced than in pre-vious years. Province members struggled to be faithful to the tradition of Wisdom as it continues to develop theologically and spiritually. Since such struggles intimately involve community, two interrelated goals become central for the entire updating pro-cess: to assist each member to recognize her own Wisdom spiri-tuality and to respect the diverse Wisdom spiritualities of others. The cluster weekends with their smalle~ numbers (averaging twenty sisters and lay participants) allowed a more intensive use of the dynamics of the process. Three components promoted the goals: (1) a historical perspective, (2) theology and spirituality working together, and (3) religious and lay solidarity through baptism. History. A central conviction shaped the presentations in the province gathering and in the cluster workshops: to know history is to grow in freedom. Thusl history was a key factor in the clus-ter workshops. Only recently have biblical studies made possible a coherent look at the Old Testament Wisdom literature and at the May-June 1998 Cbiodo and Irving * Theological Updating Theology assists believers in speaking about the God they believe in; their experience of God's invitation and the response they make is what we call spirituality. influence of Wisdom categories on the New Testament under-standing of Jesus Christ. Only recently has feminist theology explored Wisdom/Sophia as a help in rethinking Christology and Trinitarian theology. Even more recently, Sophia theology is becoming a source for ecological theology. Over and over, the participants expressed gratitude for the historical, biblical, and theological perspectives that allowed them to place their own charism and spirituality in context. Overall, the province gathering and the cluster workshops provided a uni-fying and freeing focus for all mem-bers of the province as they participated in events with a common historical perspective and a common set of biblical, theological, and spiri-tual experiences. The members can now speak across geographical bound-aries with a language which all under-stand. Theology/Spirituality. As charism and community are strands in the reweaving, of our theological coats, so are theologyand spirituality. Theology assists believers in speaking about the God they believe in; their experience of God's invitation and the response they make in their individual and community lives is what we call spirituality. In the gathering and in the cluster work-shops, the act of clarifying historical and contemporary speech about Christ, Wisdom, and women's relationship to God allowed the members of the province to distinguish between speaking about God in theological terms and reflecting on their own and others' experience of and response to God. This crucial clarifi-cation reduced conflict and enhanced the goals of helping each member to understand her own Wisdom spirituality better and to respect the diverse Wisdom spirituality of others. The refash-ioning of theological coats allowed people to breathe more com-fortably in. their own spirituality and their community relationships and to achieve what improved breathing provides: a renewed and healthier life. Unity through Baptism. Most cluster workshops contained pro-fessed sisters, former sisters, associates, .and "Friends of Wisdom": Review for Religious ministry colleagues and others interested in Wisdom. Careful guidelines were developed for invitation. The inviting sister-- after describing, to those who showed interest, the content and proceedings of the July province gathering--distributed the mate-rial to be read and later reflected on in the cluster group. This ori-entation provided a common ground for the cluster experience. Despite differences in life experiences, sisters and laypersons were able to relate to questions and issues that had emerged from the province gathering--this was the reading matter for use in the cluster groups. The energy and richness of the different per-spectives provided a model of an ecclesial community of women where historically rigid boundaries between laywomen and women religious could be reshaped. Their unity as baptized Christians became the pattern of deftly woven fabrics suitable for retailoring theological coats of Wisdom. Learnings. How can this concrete and particularized account of one province's experience of theological updating serve oth-ers who may be embarking on a similar project? What general movements can be gleaned for the benefit of all? How can the theological coats be let out to fit without harming the cloth? Six components of this process contributed to the careful alterations of this province's theological coats. First, this project demonstrated the value of a solid founda-tion. The general chapter's directives provided such a founda-tion. Other groups would need something similar. Second, the project combined clear provincial leadership with respectful attention to the members' theological and spiritual experience. The leadership wisely recognized that it was dealing with adults whose experience (gleaned through the interviews) had indispensable contributions to make to the planning process. This continued as the members of the gathering chose their pre-ferred areas of concentration for the cluster groups. Third, the leadership's commitment to a program that would have a reflective theological/spiritual style allowed participants to pause and deepen what they had learned, rather than over-powering them with more knowledge than they could assimilate; and music and poetry provided powerful alternative ways to inte-grate the material. In all the workshops, the opening prayers set the atmosphere in which the biblical and theological presenta-tions could resonate deeply and reach the whole person. The time provided for dialogue and personal reflection in each cluster group' 2.Y7 . May-ff~une 1998 Chiodo and Irving ¯ Theological Updating helped the participants to integrate the material both personally and communally. Fourth, the mission to spread knowledge and love of Wisdom beyond the congregation is vibrant in this community. The work-shops provided models for the sisters to keep in mind as they dis-cern how to communicate to others their own new appreciation of Wisdom. Fifth, the Daughters of Wisdom have nourished their partic-ular charism for three centuries. It is clear, compelling, and solidly grounded. Many congregations, founded in the 19th-century era of apostolic expansion, lack such clarity. Preliminary tasks for them will include reviewing their Vatican II renewal of their charism in the light, not only of the continuing experience of their members, but also of present theological, spiritual, and apos-tolic conditions. The preliminary time spent in such reformula-tion would be well spent. Finally, this small province chose an itinerant theologian in order to provide unity in presentation and spirit. This decision fit their group and may fit others. Larger congregations and those with different needs and hopes may make other choices. Planning that is attentive to the uniqueness of each group will enable the careful refashioning of theological coats so that members can breathe more freely as they move into the future. Outcomes. What came of all these efforts by one province to update itself theologically and spiritually around its charism? There seemed to be both a personal and a communal response to this question. Many spoke of their wanting to pursue Wisdom/Sophia spir-ituality more deeply in their personal prayer. One lay colleague said, "I have never in all my thirty-five years of knowing the Daughters felt so close to them and so personally enriched." One sister said it was wonderful to "see the interconnectedness between the Scriptures and the Wisdom theology as it developed in the tradition"; another said, "Sophia/Wisdom finally made sense to me." One cluster convener wanted to know what'we would do com-munally to continue the education we had begun. Some want to see more Montfortian.aspects in an ongoing study of Wisdom. One sister on holiday in the states reflected on what she had been hearing from the sisters about the province gathering and the cluster weekends: "Sisters from whom I would never expect it Review for Religious have told me of their deeply moving experiences with Wisdom/Sophia. One 82-year-old said she now prays to Sophia." Our theological coats have been stretched and refashioned with added cloth woven of threads newly spun from prayerful experience and theology and even our worldly surroundings. We have not finished. We bring our renewal in Wisdom spirituality to bear on ministry with the poorest of the poor. What differ-ence will our spiritual search and enlightenment make in terms of how and with whom we will minister? The spinning and the weav-ing and the careful alterations go on! Questions for Your Story. United States women religious have a history in this century of recognizing and responding to the need for theological updating among their members. The few remaining years of this centur~z may provide congregations with opportunities to consider whether they need to refashion their members' theological coats and therefore need some careful plan-ning that reflects their charism, ministry, and spirituality. This article has described one province's effort. As you reflect on it, you may inquire about the implications for your own con-gregation: What are the religious, spiritual, and cultural contexts within which you live today? What do you need to do to prepare yourselves to respond to them? What is your situation? What is the condition of your theological/spiritual coats? Are they need-lessly tight? Beginning to tear? Can you breathe freely? Do they restrict your apostolic effectiveness? These are the questions asked by foundresses centuries ago and by members of United States religious congregations earlier in this century. We who are pres-ent- day members find ourselves with the same questions as we look toward the dawn of a new millennium. The answers we give to the questions are important. Notes 1 Gerald and Patricia Mische, Toward a Human World Order (New York: Paulist Press, 1977), pp. 1-3. 2 Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Transformation of American Sister~ (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992), documents this first "moment" in the firstchapter, "Changing Times," pp. 3-30. May-June 1998 DONALD J. GOERGEN 260 Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life We often hear about being centered and about centering prayer; we hear, too, about wholeness. Centeredness and wholeness go together. Thus we cannot talk properly about how chastity and sexuality are integrated into the entire human person without first having a sense of our center. Otherwise we are off to a false start. As a sage once said, "There's no point in going fast if you're headed in the wrong direction." We want to be sure we are headed in the right direction. Provinces and congregations are concerned about mission statements and vision statements because they give us a focus and clarity about ourselves. Centering likewise gives u~ focus and clarity. Centering is not simply something that we do for our-selves personally, but something that we do for our com-munity or congregation as well. Centering is one of the main tasks of leadership. Without it, how could we know we are l~eaded in the right direction, no matter how pro-fessionally we might be equipping ourselves for the jour-ney? And so I ask: What is the center of your community or province's life? What or who is my center? Our center? What or who are we? We have to answer that, or be aware of it, before any talk about chastity, because a healthy chastity is a properly Donald J. Goergen OP, formerly the provincial of the Midwest Province of Dominicans, presented this paper, here somewhat revised, to the Conference of Major Superiors of Men in August 1997. He teaches theology at Aquinas Institute, where he may be addressed: 3642 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious centered or focused sexuality. A sexuality lacking a proper center, or falsely centered, is a distorted sexuality. It is as simple as that-- not as easy as that, but as simple. Now, however we phrase it, given our traditions and charism, we are God-centered people, followers of Jesus, called by Jesus, men and women who have turned our lives over to the gospel. If someone says to me, "Don, do you really believe in celibacy, really see any human value in it?" my response must begin with "Do you believe in God?" For indeed how do I talk about the meaning of chastity as I understand it with someone whose cen-ter in life is altogether different from my own? If the person were to respond, "Yes, I do believe," then my next question might be, "Do you believe in the God of Abraham and Sarah, in a God who calls people forth, calls people to be who they can be and to be servants of humanity?" If they again say yes, we then have some common ground on which to discuss our call and its celibate char-acter. Otherwise we are at a disadvantage in describing what a healthy Christian chastity is all about. When we call to mind who our center is, the One on whom our mission and vision are focused, we realize that this puts us at odds with the society in which we find ourselves. Many of the struggles with sexuality have to do with false attempts to adjust our happiness to the ways or perspectives of today's post-Christian world. Some of the struggles, however, are simply human, and to those we will turn later. Here it is important to differentiate the two. Is the struggle of some member of the province a futile effort to give allegiance to two masters, to try to live out of two centers, to live a continuously divided life? Or is it simply the struggle to be more deeply human as the vulnerable creatures we are? Thus, just as there is a need for us corporately to be God-- or Christ--or Spirit-centered, so there is a need for us not to be centered in our culture or society. In it, yes; centered in it, no. Ministering to it, yes; coopted by it, no. Seeing value in it, signs of God's presence there, yes; blindly idolizing it, no. Any healthy sexuality must begin with being a properly centered sexuality, which is rarely the sexual understanding provided by our secular culture, and often not the sexual understanding provided by rep-resentatives of our church. Being centered, then, also means being countercultural, in this area as in every other area of our reli-gious lives; not going out of our way to find fault with our soci-9£1 May-ff~tne 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste L~ It does us no good to be countercuttural in one area of life alone. ety and culture, but not making them the object of our primary allegiance either. If being healthy and chaste implies a countercultural approach to our sexuality, it also implies being countercultural in all areas of our living. Too often we attempt to shore up a rationale for celibacy by dragging in the countercultural justification. But it does us no good to be countercultural in one area of life alone. This is where poverty, chastity, obedience, community, prayer, mission, and servanthood form a whole tapestry. Is our approach to our sexuality consistent with our approach to life as a whole? What good does it do to be sexually abstinent if we are addicted to work, are first-rate consumers, and enjoy almost all the comforts our society offers us? Can we truly say, then, that our center is in a spir-itual or "evangelical" way of life? The chal-lenge is not how to be both healthy and chaste, but how to be both healthy and countercultural. Does health imply adjust-ment to our sociocultural context? From where or whom do we derive our understanding of a healthy life? Could true health imply "unable to adjust to the demands of a secular world"? What does it mean to be "at home" in a society that is not "at home" with religious values? Now, I am not suggesting that Christianity and secularity are at irreconcilable odds with each other. Indeed, we search for seeds of sacrality in the soil of secularity. Yet secularity in the West does imply a neutrality toward religion that becomes an indiffer-ence to it, often even a hostility or a lack of respect--certainly towards religion as central or essential to social and human life. Secularized living neither values nor structurally supports reli-gion. It may give lip service to spirituality, but more often it favors spiritualities as marketable commodities. We ought :not be naive. And so I return to the question: What is the center, corner-stone, focus of my life and ministry? Of yours? Of your congre-gation or community or province? We must first be healthily centered and go from there. Another way of putting it is to ask: What is the ethos of your community, its atmosphere, character, sense of values? What does it structurally support? Is our way of being sexual consistent with that ethos? Is it sexuality that gets dis- Review for Religious torted, or does our sexuality simply manifest a deeper distortion in our lives: the loss of our center? To what does our congregation give witness? If we merrily go along with consumer society, defend capitalism at all costs, tolerate machismo, smugly see Western civilization as superior to others, and are sexually abstinent, then that is what we give witness to. In that context, sexual abstinence is hardly mean-ingful. One of the responsibilities of leadership is to cultivate a cli-mate, help develop an ethos, sketch out the vision, focus the mem-bership. In what sort of environment is it most likely that the men or women of the community will reach healthy maturity as chaste celibates? What threats are there to such an environment? The Credibility of the Gospel In our search for a healthy celibacy, a chaste sexuality, we must feel deeply that there is something important at stake, some value that gives our way of life meaning. We might each express that differently, but I will call this core value the gospel. I do not mean as such the four Gospels, but the gospel at the heart of the Gospels, the gospel of God that formed the center value in Jesus' own life and mission. Like Paul, we live "for the sake of the gospel" (1 Co 9:23).1 Thus a primary, urgent, felt concern in my own life is the credibility of the gospel, which is nothing other than the credi-bility of the God whom I preach. My witness helps to make it credible; it makes my life credible. This is the rationale for a healthy, culturally contextualized (even if countercultural) chastity. The gospel makes sense of my celibacy, and my celibacy must help to make sense of that gospel in our world, my world, at this period of its history. The gospel itself, of course, does not require celibacy, nor does ordained ministry in itself necessitate celibacy. But religious life does see celibacy as essential to its way of being in the world. As religious we freely choose to be celibate as one dimension of our way of living the gospel. This freely chosen celibacy for the sake of the gospel, then, cannot be taken lightly. It is central to who I am as a witness to the gospel, as a witness of the risen Lord, of the presence and power of the risen Christ and his Spirit in my life. The risen Christ and the Holy Spirit are the source of my May-June 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life celibacy, and I at least desire, even in my weakened humanity, to live what I believe. One of the most poignant questions raised by Pope Paul VI in his still unsurpassed apostolic exhortation on evangelization-- which so emphasized witness as the primary form of preaching-- was the question: Do you live what you believe? In fact he raised three questions: It is often said nowadays that the present century thirsts for authenticity. Especially in regard to young people it is said that they have a horror of the artificial or false and that they are searching above all for truth and honesty. These "signs of the times" should find us vigilant. Either tacidy or aloud--but always forcefully--we are being asked: Do you really believe what you are proclaiming? Do you live what you believe? Do you really preach what you live? The witness of life has become more than ever an essential condition for real effectiveness in preaching.' My faith in the resurrection, in the risen Jesus, my own human experiences of the risen Jesus, Jesus' self-presentation to me inviting me to follow him and my response of trust and faith, all these reconstruct me, reorient me, as a human being into being a witness to that grace which has been granted me. By that grace I trust God and God places trust in me. A witness is who I am. I desire never to betray that responsibility, any more than I would wish to betray th.e. most profound friendship given me in life. My witness includes a call to celibacy that I find in my own human experience of God as present to me in this world, Celibacy by itself does not witness to anything. But celibates are witnesses. And so the question is: To what do I give witness? If I am racist, sexist, consumerist, clericalist, arrogant, ambitious, greedy, and sexually abstinent, what I give witness to is racism, greed, male privilege, and sexual abstinence. Celibacy does not give witness, but Francis of Assisi did, and Mother Teresa did, and Cardinal Bernardin did, because the totality of their lives gave witness. Their celibacy made sense only in the context of their lives. And Francis of Assisi's celibacy did not make sense in the context of his world. By merely rational norms any generation would judge him a fool, but Francis's life made sense in the con-text of the gospel. That is the only context that makes sense of our own celibate lives. We are evangelists, not because we are some-how superhuman or something other than human, but because we are convinced that living the gospel is for us a better way to be Review for Religious human. My celibacy is a part of my own humanity and makes me more truly human. It is not necessary for being human, nor nec-essary for living a gospel-centered life, but it does make me to be the human being I am. Without a perspective such as this, there can be no healthy chastity, no freedom, no desire, only fear, only obligation. This is to say, not that living chastely and cslibately is easy, but that it is the only humane way for me to live. Becoming Human Together Beyond the sexuality promoted by the secular culture in which we find ourselves, there is another whole side: mature adult Christian sexuality understood in the context of our total human-ity, with its aspirations, its limitations, its vulnerabilities, its dis-appointments, its joys. We are vulnerable human beings through and through. In my own experience of leader-ship, I learned both how talented and how frag-ile my brothers are. Fragility is not just a matter of misplacing our center, of failing to live from within the depths of our souls, but it is also a matter of what chastity asks of us even when we are centered. It is not easy to be human. A friend of mine likes to say that we are not human beings struggling to be holy, but holy peo-ple struggling to be human. Achieving the deli-cate balance in our lives between the consoling compassionate gentleness of the gospel and its radical challenging demands is not easy, and never achieved or given once and for all. Our vision should be clear, expectations should be high, but our capacity for understanding deep. When there are failures in keeping the vow, the common good makes its demands, but so does the good of the individual human person created and loved by God. Leaders need to be able to distinguish between, on the one hand, some-one who manipulates us, exploits the fraternity or sisterhood or religious family, disregards the reputation of the community, or has been seduced by the false philosophy of our unliberated soci-ety and, on the other hand, the brother or sister who falls short, needs forgiveness, is moving toward deeper integration, and is genuinely caught up with the gospel of Jesus Christ. Here only the one without sin can cast a stone. Does the brother or sister have genuine affection for the com- Celibacy by itself does not witness to anything. May-June 1998 Goergen * Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life munity? Are we the source of his or her deepest identity? If so, then the one who is not against us is for us (Lk 9:50), and we give him or her the benefit of the doubt. Chastity is there, and growth in love and commitment to the gospel. If not, we are being used. If someone is stuck in some rationalized disregard for truth, then the one who is not with me is against me (Lk 11:23). Is the per-son genuinely "in the Spirit" or not? I would trust and help any-one grounded in the Spirit. I would help but not trust those who are grounded in their own agenda. Healthy chastity in a sexually saturated, religiously indifferent society is asking for heroism. Unfortunately, to be heroic is the only way we can go. Areas of Specific Concern. There are several areas of particular concern that have an impact on our living a chaste life. I comment on them only briefly here, but they can well be pursued further in community discus-sions. I have one hesitancy. Several years ago I spent several months in India. One thing I learned about India at that time is this: Regarding anything I might say, the opposite is equally true. Accordingly, I am mindful here that I can only raise or emphasize certain points that naturally leave many other points left unsaid. Gender and Individuality There are many reasons, feminist thinking among them, why gender receives much attention today. We have become accus-tomed to distinguishing between sex and gender, sex referring more to the biological aspects of sexual identity, and gender more to the pyschosocial and sociocultural aspects. I want to stress here, however, that individual differences are as important as differ-ences of gender, or even more so. One of the criticisms of Euro-American feminism by third-world feminists is our assumption that such a thing as "women's experience" can speak for all women. Culture, race, and class deeply affect who we are, So does our individuality. I am not speaking here of individuality individualistically understood, but of each one's unique personhood. When dealing with people, we must remember the significance of these individual differences. Men are not all alike. Gay men are not all alike. Black men are not all alike. A major fallacy in many gender studies may be to assume the insignificance of individual differences. Gender is to Review for Religious be understood not so much as two abstract categories into which we place people, but rather as people first of all, whose gender is secondary. Gender must accommodate itself to persons, rather than persons being made to conform to gender stereotypes. There is more than one way to be human, more than one way to be a man, more than one way to be a woman, more than one way to be gay or straight. The question behind gender is not what I am, but who I am. Along with this, let me include my hesitancy--simply a cau-tion- about topics like masculine spirituality, men's groups, and getting in touch with our maleness. Although there can be value in this movement, I am suspicious that it might buy into a misunderstanding of gender wherein my sexual identity becomes dependent upon group consciousness. I am very hesitant to use the word masculinity and give it precise con-tent. How are groups understanding it? With respect to the men's movement, who are the men we are talking about? What is it they have in com-mon? Maleness only? What is the underlying con-cept of masculinity operative in men's groups? Can one deviate from it? How flexible is it? Is there any stereotyping of femininity in such groups? I am not suggesting that there is no value in a men's movement, or in a gathering of males, but I am suggesting that critique is necessary if there is an underlying assumption that all men experience themselves as sexual beings in a common way. If men come together to interact around issues of "soul" and how soul or spirit manifests itself in our sexualities, that is clearly good. If coming together reinforces a sense of "us men," it perpetuates a false understanding of gender. The question behind gender is not what I am, but who I am. Homosexuality There is no question today but that homosexuality plays a significant role in discussions of celibate sexuality. To some degree this is the influence of our social context, of the gay liberation movement on both society and religion. HIV and the tragedy of AIDS also enter into the discussion. Again my comments here are necessarily brief. There is a place for homosexual or gay and lesbian people in religious life. They can be very creative, pastorally compassion-ate, and spiritually sensitive. Homosexuality is not accepted May-June 1998 socially, however, as of equal value to heterosexuality, although it is fairly well acknowledged psychologically that it is not intrinsi-cally pathological. The challenge for us, however, is not only how to screen in order to accept only healthy homosexual men or women and what our expectations of them should be as regards living a chaste life, but also how to clarify for ourselves whether all healthy homosexual or gay people are capable of living a celi-bate communal life. For our purposes here, I will make some distinctions, risky distinctions, but they can clarify discussion. (I refer here specifi-cally to communities of men.) I distinguish between gay men, homosexual men, and closeted men. Religious communities do not benefit from closeted homo-sextiality. I do not mean that men need to be public about their sexuality, a notion that seems to be an odd bane of our period of history. By closeted homosexuals I mean men who are closeted as regards their own selves. That is, they are significantly out of contact with their sexuality and thus unable to accept the degree or kind of homosexuality present in them; as a result, they are men who live in denial and fear and self-hatred. For homosexual men to live in religious communities, they need to be comfortable enough to be unafraid of their homosexuality, and they certainly need to be able to acknowledge who they are to trusted friends. The deeper issue is the distinction I make, for our purposes, between homosexual men and gay men. This is a distinction not ordinarily made in the gay community. There you are either gay or in the closet. But this has led people to make some mistakes, for the word gay is ambiguous and certainly not univocal. It can refer to gay culture or cultures, to people, to styles of life, even to an ethos, a set of beliefs, a movement~ When so .used, it is unhelp-ful for our purposes of discernment or our witness to the gospel. Although a particular "gay" person may very well be called to religious life and ministry, not everything that is gay is compati-ble with religious life. Many styles .of gay life, dimensions of gay cultures, even cofiamonly held assumptions among many gay men, all these may be quite incompatible with our call and our life. Religious life itself is a particular style of life, a particular sub-culture, grounded on certain convictions held in common. Thus I will here use the word homosexual to describe someone whose sexual orientation is predominantly homosexual, but whose deep-est source of identity is not his sexuality but his faith and its Review for Religious accompanying required way of life. A gay person's deepest iden-tity is frequently his sexual identity, or at least his sexual identity has for him a high level of significance. In other words, while it is possible for homosexual men to live and contribute immensely to religious life, the same cannot be naively said of all gay men or even all healthy gay men. If the network of significant relationships that a man feels he must main-tain for the sake of his identity and health is a gay network, then his heart and soul may lie more with the gay community than with a religious community, no matter how many gay men there may be in a religious community. The defining characteristic of a gay community is its sexuality, for a religious community its spirituality. A gay man can be deeply spiritual, and I place here no judgment on the realities of the gay worlds. I am simply saying that, whereas homosexuality is capable of integration into reli-gious life, gay life is not. Where does one's deepest commitment, heart, and soul lie? If one needs to express one's gay identity in the ways encouraged by secular gay life, so be it, but in religious life this cannot be one's defining identity. What I have said should in no way whatsoever be taken as legitimating homophobia or prejudice against homosexual people in religious life or gay and lesbian people in the society at large. Nor is it meant to disparage the legitimate struggles that people encounter as they attempt to mature sexually in religious life. This article is an effort to clarify who we are as religious commu-nities. We are not and never can be communities of gay men, no matter how many homosexual members there may be. We are and must be religious communities. Affectivity I want to underscore the importance of our affective lives. Among men in particular, this can be left undeveloped or its importance minimized. Although, as I said above, Ihave ques-tions about "the men's movement," I think it important that'men find affective support for themselves among their brethren in community and among women religious and other women too. Affective bonds not only sustain us in our lives and ministries. They also help us live the spiritual life deeply. Affective prayer is deeper than reflective prayer, and contemplative prayer even deeper than affective prayer. Affect ordinarily opens up for us deeper recesses of our being and thus allows us to live life more fully, May-June 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life beyond dull routine, addictiveness to work, and human bonding that is merely cerebral. If nothing else, our lives must be seen by others as loving, perhaps especially by prospective members. There is both a role for affection and a human need for it. The challenge is to live a balanced, integrated, wholesome life. And balance is not something achieved once and for all, but something regained daily. Life implies movement; perpetual sta-bility is death. Integration implies integrity, which is inner freedom graced by God and constant in pursuit of a worthy quest. There are individual and cultural differences in our affective lives, but the world to which we witness, the brothers and sisters to whom we are joined by profession, are asking us: Do you care? Do you feel? We need examples of affecdve maturity among us. Affective growth has a sexual component to it. Among the major reasons for pur-suing sexual maturity among us are the affective maturity that accompanies it and the increased spiritual maturity as well. Hope and Forgiveness I cannot here go into the complexities, difficulties, and vari-ations of sexual misconduct that we have had to confront in the past ten or fifteen years. I do not want anything I say here to minimize the seriousness of these issues or to lead us to excuse ourselves. Our concerns are for the good of our own members, the common good of our communities, along with our primary con-cern for the victims of abuse at the hands of community members who were occupying positions of trust. For the pastoral care of our members in crisis situations such as these and also for the future health of victims and of perpetrators as well, two things are impor-tant: hope and forgiveness. Whatever one's situation in life and whatever the condition of one's life, we cannot allow it to confine us to living without hope. At least three things can contribute to a healthy even if "non-normal" life for perpetrators, victims, and all of us: (1) personal support and clearly defined boundaries, (2) a deepening of one's spiritual life, and (3) personal involvement with available thera-peutic programs. We can all ask ourselves how woundedness in some cases gets transformed into the making of a wounded healer and how in other situations wounds end up in a cycle of wound-ing others. How are wounds "healed" even if never "cured"? Whatever the path we must take, hope is essential to recovery. This much I have learned from my own walking with perpetrators Review for Religious as well as victims: Never let anyone destroy your hope. Strangely, as I was revising this article, I saw the obituary of Viktor Frankl in the New York Times (4 September 1997). Certainly his three-year experience in a concentration camp contained every justifi-cation for giving up hope along with confirming him in the conviction that one's attitude in the face of suffering is essential to well-being. Every one of our brothers, whether a pedophile or a perpe-trator of some other abuse or one of our outstanding members, needs hope. People cannot survive much less thrive without it. All people, as brothers and sisters, need to experience forgive-ness from others in their lives if they are to move beyond various large or small crises towards healing; also, for this same healing, they may need to do some forgiving of their own. To live a whole human life, we must learn to forgive and to be forgiven. This ought not be precipitous. Perpetrators of abuse need to own their guilt and responsibility, go through cognitive restruc-turing, acknowledge their genuine need for reconciliation with victims, their community, and their God. When the way has been prepared, however, forgiveness and understanding need to be there for them if they are to have hope of being restored to their own lives. This does not predetermine how forgiveness happens. Acceptance, forgiveness, and love can be mediated, and must be, from somewhere within the perpetrators' network of relation-ships, from their Christian community. As with all of us, both perpetrators and victims must eventually feel God's presence in their struggle to remake their lives. Health is never a heart of stone. Even though victims cannot take risks and need to protect their increased vulnerability, the goal is not to be limited to resigned anger. It lies in learning a painful compassion. Of course, much more needs to be said here about our mem-bers who have violated the sacred trust placed in them. There has to be an owning of responsibility on their part; they have to have a genuine desire to reform their lives; there must be coop-eration with the congregation or province and its leadership. One thing all of us can learn from these crises is how important for our communities hope and forgiveness are When it comes to the vul-nerabilities in our lives, especially vulnerabilities in our sexual-ity, and most especially when these vulnerabilities become public. We need to learn forgiveness, to forgive and be forgiven, and to May-ffune 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life have hope. These two are at the heart of the Christian gospel to which we have given our lives. They are also pertinent to a healthy attitude toward sexuality. After formulating these reflections of my own, I found Sogyal Rinpoche's Tibetan Book of Living and Dying saying the same thing: "I would like to single out two points in giving spiritual help to the dying: giving hope, and finding for-giveness." 3 Common Fraternal Life Summ.ing up, I must say that the best way to promote a healthy sexuality and chastity among us is to promote healthy community life. The fraternity, sisterhood, or community itself is a significant formative context for us.4 How deep is the bond that unites us? Can the communal context of our living both chal-lenge us and enrich us? Does it come from that deeper spiritual desire, that deep spring, from which our lives and ministries ought to flow? Perhaps common life has suffered assault more than any-thing else during the past twenty-five years; the fraternal charac-ter of that common life has perhaps been too long neglected. If our community is not a deeply spiritual and humanly healthy con-text for the workings of the Holy Spirit, individuals find it a lonely struggle to live the heroic lives we are called upon to live, lives of selflessness in a society that rationalizes greed, arrogance, and exploitive forms of power for which obedience, poverty, and chastity are the only antidotes. And so, what do I ask of present-day leadership in this quest called religious life? --Call us to center ourselves; help us to remember who we truly are; challenge us to be our. best selves. Few things in life, very few things, are truly important. Help us to remember that. --Create a climate, an ethos, for healthy living, for open discussion, but also for the freedom to be spiritual and holy men and women and to give religious witness as well. --Respect and trust the brothers and sisters unless someone clearly manifests that such trust is unde-served. --Trust yourself, seek advice, and be human. --Keep an inner balance, keep your eye on extremes and help us to avoid them. Review for Religious --Be aware that there is a rhythm in our personal lives for all of us, like inhaling and exhaling, a time to plant and a time to reap. Do not supervise our personal growth. --Keep our focus on the charism, and keep our expec-tations clear. --Affirm the importance of sexuality in our lives, but help us to put it in perspective. It is not the be-all and end-all of life. --Call us to lives of integrity, but respect our wound-edness and be aware of how vulnerable we are. Help us to be caring, loving men and women. Teach us to pray. --Have a sense of humor. Life is a way of the cross, but help us to look at that cross from the vantage point of the resurrection. Give us hope. I close with some poetic reflections from a Protestant Brazilian liberation writer, Rubem Alves: What is hope? It is a presentiment that imagination is more real and reality less real than it looks. It is the hunch that the overwhelming brutality of facts that oppress and repress is not the last word. It is a suspicion that reality is more complex than realism wants us to believe and that the frontiers of the possible are not determined by the limits of the actual and that in a miraculous and unexpected way life is preparing the creative events which will open the way to freedom and resurrection. The two, suffering and hope, live from each other. Suffering without hope produces resentment and despair, hope without suffering creates illusions, naivet~, and drunkenness. Let us plant dates even though those who plant them will never eat them. We must live by the love of what we will never see. This is the secret discipline. It is a refusal to let the creative act be dissolved in immediate sense experience. It is a stubborn commitment to the future of our grandchildren. 273 --- May-June 1998 Goergen * Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life Such disciplined love is what has given the prophets, revolutionaries, and saints the courage to die for the future they envisaged. They make their own bodies the seed of their highest hope.5 Notes l On this point see letter 20, "Religious Life and the Gospel," in my Letters to My Brothers and Sisters (Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1996), pp. 137-142. Available through Dominican Central Province Office; 1909 South Ashland Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60608. 2 Evangelii nuntiandi, §76. 3 The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1992), p. 212. A highly recommended spiritual book. 4 See letter 11, "On Community Life," pp. 75-79, and letter 17, "The Continuing Nature of Formation," pp. 115-121, in my Letters to My Brothers and Sisters. s Rubem A. Alves, Hijos del Magana (Salamanca: Ediciones Sigueme, 1976). The above lines have been gathered together from Alves's reflec-tions on pages 219-231. Morning Ear "Morning after morning, he opens my ear." --Isaiah I want to keep my ear wide open like a door foldingout to the sun, ready to receive all that the ball of fire spills across the threshold. I want the Word to trickle through the long canal to the heart and find a place to stretch out in a dream, then expand through my senses to some form in reality. I want it to grow sturdy like a tree that dances in every emotion of the wind, hearing music even when there is only silence. Patricia G. Rourke IHM Review for Religious MARTIN PABLE Skills Needed for Celibacy ~chonaset cIr aotfefde rc hisa sntoitty a, nboirb dlioc aIl e oxrp tlohreeo iltosg sipciarli truaatli oonr amley sf-or tical significance. Such reflections have in recent decades been put forth in masterful fashion by other writers. My purpose is different. Assuming that readers of this journal already have an understanding and appreciation of the value of religious chastity, I focus on this question: What skills ar.e required in order to live out this commitment in a faithful and life-giving manner? I was prompted toward offering an answer to this question by reading a couple of years ago Father Raymond Carey's "Psychosexuality and the Development of Celibacy Skills." As many readers may know, Carey favors a strongly behavioral approach to the assessment of candidates' fitness for priesthood or religious life. Instead of relying on someone's verbalizations about the value of celibacy (which may be impressively lofty and elo-quent without being grounded in lived experience) or even on psychological testing, Carey bases his assessment on the person's life history. The underlying principle is that the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior. In assessing people's capacity to live the vow of chastity, the key question would be: Is the can-didate for religious life developing the skills needed for celibate living? Martin Pable OFMCap has a doctorate in pastoral counseling, has taught courses in it, and has done extensive counseling. Besides giving retreats and workshops, he directs a wellness program for his order and does evangelization ministry. His address is House of Peace Community Center; P.O. Box 05656; M!lwaukee, Wisconsin 53205. 275 . May-3~une 1998 Pable * Skills Needed for Celibacy Carey went on to name--very briefly--twenty-seven such skills. I found his list a bit overwhelming, but I selected a few of the skills and worked out a retreat conference for religious who were already in final vows. The retreatants later encouraged me to put my talk into written form. That is the genesis of this arti-cle. I will follow Carey's distinction between intrapersonal skills (needed to manage internal conscious states) and interpersonal skills (for dealing with other persons), but sometimes my naming of the skills will differ from his. Intrapersonal Skills Self-knowledge Dr. William Menninger once noted that the first meaning of intimacy is "that which constitutes one's own inner self." This . implies, he said, that we must become intimate with ourselves-- know ourselves--before we can hope to be intimate with others. "Know thyself" is a well-known axiom of the ancients. St. Teresa of Avila used to say, "Almost all problems in the spiritual life stem from lack of self-knowledge." Why is self-knowledge so founda-tional? Because it is the precondition for freedom of choice. If I know when I am feeling sad or inadequate or confident or resent-ful or contented or discouraged, I will have important data for making better decisions; whereas, if I am unaware of these inter-nal states, I will likely fall or be driven into choices without really intending them. Then come the regrets: "Why in the world did I do that?" The same dynamics apply to my awareness--or lack of it--of long-standing patterns of people-pleasing or compulsive activity or competitiveness or demanding my own way. Without self-knowledge, change and conversion are not possible. Such self-knowledge is especially crucial in matters of chastity. I need to know what is driving me: my erotic feelings and desires? my tendency to seek companionship to feed my vanity or soothe my bruised ego? my need to feel important to at least one person so as to compensate for my sense of failure in my ministry? None of these necessarily precludes honest celibate living, but I need to be aware of them if I am to manage them. The skill here consists in the ability to tune in to and correctly identify these internal feelings and tendencies. How do we grow in self-knowledge? The basic tool is inter-nal reflection, such as the process described by Father George Review for Religious Aschenbrenner in his famous article "Consciousness Examen" (Review for Religious 31, no. 1 [January-February 1972]). Instruments such as the Myers-Briggs or the enneagram can be helpful in coming to know ourselves. So can the regular practice of journaling and the time-tested practice of spiritual direction. Enjoyment of One's Own Company We have all seen the opposite of this: people who seemingly cannot stand to be alone. This does not come naturally for those who are extroverts. Still, most extroverts do develop the capacity for solitude as they grow older; it is one of the tasks of midlife. Also, we find religious who always have to be busy doing something; they seem unable to just be still or engage in quiet reflection. One has to wonder: What are they avoiding or running away from? Perhaps it is some inner voice that keeps chiding, "You will never be good enough, will never measure up." In any case, celibates need to develop the ability to be alone, to enjoy their own company. This is simply a demand of reality. Having chosen not to marry, we can-not expect that someone will always be there for us. Even in the best of religious communities, there will be times when no one is around. It is the same in ministry, even in these days of collaboration. Much of our time may be spent alone--in our office, our cubicle, our car. The skill lies in the ability to accept that reality and deal with it creatively. Some religious may need therapy to help them understand and manage those inner voices and restless feelings that drive them to avoid solitude. But ordinarily the skill is acquired with time and practice. We begin to actually enjoy quiet time for read-ing, walking, listening to good music. To do that well, though, perhaps most of us will lneed a reasonably comfortable room or office and some degree of pleasant surroundings. It would be well to include here what Carey calls "skills to mon-itor fantasy." This would obviously exclude behavior such as indulging in sexually stimulating reading or viewing, but it would also exclude allowing oneself to fantasize about "what might have been" (or still could be) in terms of romantic/sexual relationships. It is certainly appropriate to do the necessary grieving over such renunciations, but not to keep revisiting them in one's imagination. Celibates need to develop the ability to be alone, to enjoy their own company. '277 May-June 1998 Pable * Skill~ Needed for Celibacy~ One of the instructive stories from the life of St. Francis of Assisi is related by St. Bonaventure. One night, when Francis was severely tempted by lust, he ran out into the snow and formed several snow figures. Then he said to himself, "Look, Francis, the larger one there is your wife and the others are your chil-dren. Now hurry up and find clothes and food for them--they are cold and hungry. But, if all the trouble it takes to look after them is too much for you, then keep your services for God alone." The story is a stark reminder of how chastity sometimes requires a hard dose of "reality therapy" to iolt us out of our dreamy fan-tasies. The "greener grass" on the other side can turn into a cold night and a hungry family. ~ Being grounded in the love of God, I recognize that this is not so much a skill as an attitude or conviction. But it needs to be acquired and strengthened through behavior. Initially, probably most of us accepted celibacy as part of the "package deal" of reli-gious life, or celibacy made sense because it gave us greater free-dom to be of service. But over the long haul that will not be enough to hold us in our commitment to chastity. Something more profound, more soul-inspiring is needed. Stephen Rossetti has called it "the celibacy experience" (Review for Religious 41, no. 5 [September-October 1982]). Rossetti quotes psychologist Ignace Lepp as saying that the chastity of those consecrated to Christ must be "counterbalanced by a genuinely mystical life." There must be, then, a necessary connection between celibacy and mysticism. Rossetti uses Karl Rahner's definition of mysticism as "a genuine though mediated experience of encounter and communication with the personal God." It is this personal experience of being held in the uncondi-tional embrace of God's love that protects religious chastity. It is not something that happens once and for all, but is a chain of real encounters that renew and strengthen the individual's surrender to God. Rossetti says: "It is this experience and the resulting vision which grounds the celibate's apostolate. The celibacy experience, which eventually grows into a total response to the radical question 'Do you love me?' provides the charter and gives life to his or her ministry. Without this growing intimacy with Christ, the celibate's ministry is without an anchor and will drift with every theological and psychological breeze that comes along" (p. 676). The skill required here, it seems to me, is to make oneself available to this experience and to foster it. In the concrete, this Review for Religious means regular, personal prayer. If celibacy is grounded in my per-sonal relationship with the living God embracing me with uncon-ditional love, that relationship can grow and be sustained only by communication, by opening myself to that Mystery, by allow-ing the risen Christ to address me as "friend." Psychotherapist A.W. Richard Sipe puts it very clearly: "Prayer is indispensable and fundamental for the celibate life, for there is no other effective way to confront God-Self-Other within the core of celibate reality. ¯ . All other relationships and friendships are grounded in this core or, in the end, they will fail from the point of view of celibacy or celibate love. In studying religious celibacy for thirty-five years, I have never found one exception to this fundamental rule: prayer is necessary to maintain the celibate process." Skill to Prize One's Sexuality Prizing one's sexuality involves at least two elements: first, appreciating one's sexuality as a positive life energy. In my recent book The Quest for the Male Soul, I note that one of the Hebrew words for "man" in the Bible is zakar, which literally refers to the male phallus. The rite of circumcision had deep spiritual sig-nificance for the Hebrew male: it was a sign of his covenant with God as well as of his ethnic identity. Therefore, every time he looked at or used his phallus he was reminded: "I am a Hebrew. I belong to God's chosen people. I am dedicated to God.'.' What a contrast with our own socialization into sexuality. There is no sacred ritual to help us to prize our sexuality. The culture around us tends to idolize it, while our religious training tends to make it an object of shame. It is crucial that celibates come to value their sexual energy as a positive gift of God that needs to be channeled toward nongenital forms of love and cre-ativity. Second, this skill involves coming to a peaceful sense of own-ership of one's sexual orientation¯ Thankfully, as the wider soci-ety is becoming more open about homosexuality, religious life is likewise becoming more open. It is now widely acknowledged that there are homosexual and bisexual brothers and sisters in our communities who are spiritually deep, ministerially effective, and faithfully celibate, just as there are heterosexual religious who embody these same qualities¯ We salute them all. Hopefully, we are growing to the point where we can say: (1) We will not tolerate or cover up deliberate violations of celibate chastity; (2) we will279 . ~Vlay-June 1998 Pable ¯ Skil~ Needed for Celiba not tolerate any discrimination against any brother or sister because of his or her sexual orientation; (3) we will not demand perfection in matters of chastity--only that each of us try to grow, even by our mistakes and sins, toward faithful and loving celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of God. Interpersonal Skills Most celibate religious eventually learn to control their gen-ital sexual drive--through common sense ("monitoring fantasy"), self-discipline, prayer, and the grace of God. What is often more difficult, however, is to deal with longings for emotional inti-macy: the experience of closeness, sharing, and exchange of affec-tion with at least one other person as a kind of healing for the sense of loneliness. Celibates know they are called to love the people entrusted to them, though this is often a one-way love with little reciprocity. Moreover, celibates can and do have good friendships marked by true mutuality. But the vow of chastity does require them to renounce the desire for "that one special

Issue 56.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1997. ; for relig i ou s Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ¯ NUMBER 1 lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the joumml are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Lonis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: I:OPI~ EMA@SLUVCA.SI~U. E DU Manuscripts, books for review, aud correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDouough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ° Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional ,nailing offices. See inside back cover for iuformation on subscription rates. ©1997 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy an), material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal t, se of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear uotice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will o,aly be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisoty Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages.and Contemporary Living JA~NUARY-FEBRUARY 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents living the consecrated life ~ 6 The Ambiguity of Religious Life: Does It Evolve? Nadine Foley OP highlights the living tradition of consecrated life evidenced in the phrase "consecration for mission" and its development in Vita consecrata. The Vatican II Generation and Religious Life Brian J. Pierce oP comments on his post-Vatican II experience of contemplative spirituality, community living and sharing, and ministry among the poor. Of Those Who Leave Us: A Typology Edward van Merrienboer OP describes five types of members seeking permission to leave and the behaviors that led to their petitions. growing as christians 37 Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing Hilary Ot~ensmeyer OSB proposes a dynamic based on the framework of the four seasons for Christian groups to reach new levels of sharing. Inner Work with You~ Anger 'Paul Duckro, Marjorie Kukor, and Jean Meier CSJ present the potential of a contemplative or meditational encounter with anger, so linking the psychological and spiritual aspects of healing. On Letting Go Denise M. Callaghan SSND reflects on the pervasiveness of a "letting go" in the continuing call of God to us as individuals and as a community. Review for Religious 59 loving as celibates Nuptial Love and Discerning Celibacy's Call Daniel J. Trapp examines the specific call to celibacy as a spousal response to Christ's love. Consecrated Celibacy as Means, Peril, and Delight Melannie Svoboda SND describes a few aspects of the religious experience of consecrated celibacy which is rooted in the unfathomable mystery of God's radical-mad love. 72 finding God Mystical Moments in Daily Life Matthias Neuman OSB calls attention to the mystical moments that reveal a transcendent mysteriousness and often a holy . presence which are a part of our ordinary faith experience. Silence Donald Macdonald SMM points the ways in which silence helps us perceive the priceless gift of a Spirit-filled world. Jesus, Power, and the ONE Edmundo Rodriguez SJ presents a way of understanding how action on behalf of justice is sanctioned by the life and teaching of Jesus. departments Prisms ~.,~ /~o ~ ~-,~, ~-Jf~o,o- Canonical Counsel: Diocesan Institutes and Pontifical Institutes Book Reviews January-February 1997 prisms Jesus is the focus of this year's celebra-tions preparatory to the coming third millennium. In John Paul's apostolic letter "As the Third Millennium Draws Near," the thematic structure of the three-year period 1997- 1999 is Trinitarian. Since the distinctly Christological char-acter of the jubilee is a primary emphasis, the first year, 1997, is devoted to "reflection on Christ, the Word of God, made man by the power of the Holy Spirit" (40). National conferences of bishops, local dioceses and individual parishes, religious congregational provinces, and other church organizations have proposed various ways of entering into this reflection on Christ: Some helpful study aids, reflection guides, and discussion outlines are available. Programs and conferences, gatherings among various Christian churches, and especially prayer services are planned throughout .the year. We all are called to become a part of this movement-- like a three-year-long Advent preparation--to celebrate our Christian jubilee. The challenge for each of us is accept-ing our responsibility "to know Christ Jesus" and acting on it. Knowing Jesus was a constant theme of St. Paul's writ-ings to the young churches. It is the theme reemphasized in our preparation for celebrating the millennium. How do we come to know Jesus? Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John each give us a way of knowing Jesus. Every Gospel account became a composite reflection of the stories told about Jesus within an evange-list's particular community. Details and settings of the same stories differ from Gospel account to Gospel account, and it does not matter. Each way of telling the story is true in its Review for Religious ability to give us an entrance into knowing Jesus. At one moment in our lives, through the Gospel of Mark we may find ourselves impressed by the immediate sense of Jesus' activism, the uncluttered quality of his speech, the directness of his affective response. At another time we appreciate the Jesus of Luke's Gospel, who appears so much the person of prayer, compassion, and lively joy. Sometimes the longer wisdom stories of John's Gospel and the image-identity language of being bread, life, light, vine, shepherd, gate, or para-clete call us to pe~r deep into our well of meditation. Over and over as we move through the Gospels, we find ourselves always com-ing to know Jesus~ Perhaps, taking our cue from St. Paul, we might discover anew the insight especially applicable to our millennium preparation. Necessary and helpful as the Gospel accounts are for our knowing Jesus, only in entering into our own experience will we find the Jesus who calls us by name, knocks at the door of our heart, and persists in bringing about the fullness of the reign ofGod. St. Paul was marked forever by his experience of One saying to him, "It is Jesus of Nazareth whom you are persecuting." For Paul there was no confusion of James and Joseph and Julia and Claudia with Jesus. But Paul realized that, in his dealings with James and Joseph and Julia and Claudia, he was also dealing with Jesus and coming to know him more, Paul came to know Jesus the more he preached and the. more he worked with all the people in his churches and the more he prayed. What Paul focuses for each of us is the Jesus in front of us, the Jesus whose coming we await by the way we live and minis-ter now. Jesus in his total gift of living and dying and Jesus in his sure promise of coming is always being made present to us in the Eucharist and so in his Body, the church. We experience Jesus. Experiencing Jesus is more than studying Christology or gospel reading. Experiencing Jesus is more than serving a, soup line or demonstrating for peace. Experiencing Jesus is knowing Jesus in the way that Paul exhorts his churches to know Jesus and to let themselves be seen as models of imitation because of that knowl-edge. The demand for people who know Jesus in this way has never been so clearly expressed as it is in the pope's apostolic letter. In John's Gospel, the story is told of some Greeks who came forward to Philip, making the request "We want to see Jesus." How will we, with the question coming both from within us and from with-out, respond this year to that request? David L. Fleming SJ ~anuary-FebtwaO, 1997 living the consecrated life NADINE FOLEY The Ambiguity of Religious Life: Does It Evolve? A number of years ago, in one of those seemingly endless discussions about the character of religious life that flour-ished among women religious after Vatican Council II, I remember making a reference to the evolution of reli-gious life. Within my hearing a canonist vehemently snapped out an objection. "Her response startled me; I could not see a reason for her agitated insistence. Was it the word evolution? The word seemed appropriate to me as a member of a religious congregation of women whose founders, responding to needs of the mid-1800s, emerged from their cloistered life in Regensburg, Germany, and ,.met the challenges of ministry in their new home in America. The move was not merely geographical. It entailed considerable adaptation of their lifestyle, their sense of mission, and ultimately their self-identity as a religious congregation of women. Their revered daily reg-imen of discipline and prayer as Second Order Dominican nuns was not immediately adaptable to what they were to undertake in a new and strange world. In due time they made the wrenching decision to become conventual Third Order Dominicans, an available alternative within Dominican structures. Was this development some kind of evolution? Nadine Foley OP, a former president of the Leadership Council of Women Religious (LCWR), is professor of religious studies at Siena Heights College and is historian for the Adrian Dominican Sisters. She can be addressed at 1257 East Siena Heights Drive; Adrian, Michigan 49221. Review for Religious Other institutes of women religious, founded directly for active apostolic or ministerial life, came sooner or later to share much similarity with active institutes such as mine that have their ¯ historical roots in the cloistered contemplative life. For both of these groups, there were expectations of meeting the obligations that had pertained to contemplative life: separation from the world, limited contact with the laity, conformity in dress and often in demeanor, a set horarium of prayer and liturgical observance, and disciplinary practices of silence, self-abnegation, and obedi-ence. Many of these were unique to women religious and not shared by their male counterparts. But changes were occurring in women's religious life without the appropriate "infrastructure" to support it. Modifications were made--dropping night vigils and prayers, from the daily horarium, omitting face veils from the prescribed dress, and the like--but tensions often existed, whether acknowledged or not. The model for the religious life of women remained that of the enclosure. The 1917 Code of Canon Law, welcome in many respects, more or :less fixed the ambiguity canonically in the sense that its architects--and, no doubt, members of religious institutes as well--did not have a clear perception that something new was emerging in religious life and might require a new look at the canonical legislation. In the 1930s and 1940s religious congrega-tions hastened .to write new constitutions in conformity with the Code while at the same time many made formal application for the status of pontifical institute. The all-consuming preoccupation for women religious (and many men religious as well) was with developing the entire spectrum of Catholic education and health-care to meet the needs of a burgeoning Catholic population. The effort required education of the members in all of the relevant fields of specialization to meet the standards of accrediting agen-cies. Meanwhile, imperceptible to the outside observer and even to many within religious life, a ferment of dissatisfaction and dis-affection was gradually spreading. The competencies developed by religious in the many secular fields required for their professional ministries had the additional effect of providing them with criti-cal tools of analysis that they began to apply to their own per-sonal development and their social organization as religious institutes. Then came Vatican Council II. By this time the institutes of women's religious life were ready for the directives from Rome ffanuary-Febrttaty 1997 that followed it: Hold a general chapter of renewal within three years, consult all the members in preparation, and enter into a period of experimentation where it seems advisable. A further communication, directing the institutes to write new constitu-tions and statutes, called for a thorough review of the original inspirations of the founders. No one could have predicted the impact of what followed, particularly when the institutes devel-oped internal processes for consulting all the members. Their reflections and consultations brought to the fore a wealth of expe-rience that hitherto had not been factored into general-chapter decisions about the congregations' agendas. The questions and the solutions were wide ranging and radical in the very good sense of reaching to the roots of religious life and its very identity. Reexamining origins and reflection upon a century and a half of experience in ministry were critical in formulating new con-stitutions. The documents produced were perhaps the first to reflect the character of women's active, or ministerial, ~eligious life. Mining the rich tradition~ in the original inspirations of reli-gious institutes led to a breadth in understanding ministry, not so much as specific works, but as response to the needs of people in our times. 'But a parallel effort was in progress at the same time: the reform of the Code of Canon Law. While religious worldwide submitted data for the section on religious life, their work on constitutions proceeded without benefit of knowing how the canonical revisions were progressing. In the final analysis, while some strides were made, religious were unable to find in the revised canons support for some of the new approaches--to traditional values of governance, community, ministry, the vows-- that had already been duly incorporated into their constitutions and statutes. As one who participated in the process of gaining approval of new constitutions through conversations with members of the Vatican Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL, a recent name change that requires its own exegesis), I had a privileged vantage point from which to examine the notion that religious life does not evolve. While processes had been devised whereby entire congregations participated in developing new constitutions (documents that for the first time accurately reflect our sense of identity as ministerial congregations of women religious), it became quite clear that we were expected ,to fit into a Procrustean bed of fixed categories. Review for Religious The suggestion, once heard, that we could save ourselves a lot of trouble if we just settled upon calling ourselves "secular insti-tutes" epitomized the problem. We did not fit many canonical expectations of "consecrated life," but at the same time we found no comfort in being labeled secular institutes. ("Institutes of apos-tolic life," founded specifically for traditional "missionary" activ-ity in "foreign" lands, continues to be a unique category.) It is against this background that I read the postsynodal apos-tolic exhortation Vita consecrata. Many things can be said about this document, some positive and some nega-tive. (I will not dwell here on the persis-tence of noninclusive language.) But I take encouragement in the inference I draw from it that there is basis here for the idea that religious life can in fact evolve--or at leastodevelop, if that is a more acceptable word. I draw this conclusion as I move from chapter 2 to chapter 3 and find a distinct theological shift from a transcendent view of religioils life to what I will call an incar-national one. The shift is particularly evi-dent in the treatment of consecration, no longer wholly identified with the vows, but associated with mission in the phrase "con-secration for mission." While the theological reorientation is not consistent throughout, the theme is pervasive enough to be noted as a significant change. Two themes that are present throughout 'the exhortation are consecration and eschatology. The manner of their treatment illus-trates, the shifting theology. In chapter 1 the organizing biblical text is Matthew's account of the transfiguration, described as "a decisive moment in the ministry of Jesus" (§ 15, italics in the original here and elsewhere). While the document presents this experi-ence of Peter, James, and John as constantly relived by the whole church, a people on its way to the eschatological encounter with its Lord, it has particular meaning for those called to the conse-crated life. For, we read, Peter's words "Lord, how good it is to be here! . eloquently express the radical nature of the vocation to the consecrated life." The. ecstasy and the mystery of the trans-figuration lead to the evangelical counsels as "a specific acceptance of the mystery of Christ, lived within the Church" (§16). Thus reli- Reexamining origins and reflection upon a century and a half of experience in ministry were critical in formulating new constitutions. Januaty-February 1997 gious consecration is linked to the eschatological realization of the reign of God to come. Applying this interpretation to the three basic vocations within the church, the text reads: "The laity, by virtue of the secular character of their vocation, reflect the mystery of the Incarnate Word particularly insofar as he is the Alpha and the Omega of the world, the foundation and measure of the value of all created things. Sacred ministers, for their part, are 'living images of Christ the Head and Shepherd who guides his people during this time of 'already and not yet,' as they await his coming in glory. It is the duty of the consecrated life to show that the Incarnate Son of God is the eschatological goal towards which all things tend, the splendor before which every other light pales, and the infinite beauty which alone can fully satisfy the human heart" (§16). The three vocations here do not reflect the division of the church into episcopacy, clergy, and laity found in Vatican II's Lumen gentium, an outline that, by including nonclerical religious only invisibly among the laity, seems to drop them from the church (see LG §§31 and 43). While harking back to the "objective superiority of the conse-crated life" (§§18 and 32), a notion seemingly abandoned after Vatican II, chapter 1 acknowledges that religious life, in addition to its eschatological witness, is also "a particularly profound and fruitful way of sharing in Christ's mission, in imitation of the exam-ple of Mary of Nazareth, the first disciple" (§18). The "sacred bond of chastity for the sake of the kingdom of God" is singled out as the first and essential evangelical counsel. A further expansion to all the church's members' manifesting the one mystery of Christ is contained in the statement (here retranslated from the Latin) that, "as their specific but not exclusive characteristics, the lay faithful have activity in the world, the clergy have ministry, and consecrated men and women have special conformity to Christ chaste, poor, and obedient.''l This assertion occurs in the discus-sion of baptism and confirmation's conferral of a consecration that is common to all members of the people of God (§31). Erroneously but understandably, "ministry" in the official English translation of this sentence is sometimes taken to be the exclusive responsibility of the clergy, and special conformity to Christ in chastity, poverty, and obedience an exclusive character-istic of consecrated men and women. The qualifier "but not exclu-sively" seems to be attached only to the specific characteristic of the laity ("activity in the world") when in fact it pertains to the Review for Religious specific characteristics of the other two groups as well. Just as the laity and the clergy are not to repudiate the importance of their own "conformity to Christ chaste, poor, and obedient," neither priests nor (at least during the last several hundred years) women and men religious have been excluded from activity "in the world" along.with the laity. This is "missionary" activity, understood in the fundamental sense of their having been baptized into mission. It is just possible that collectively reli-gious have been quite as involved in ministry in the world as the laity have been, and no doubt proportionately more so until the recent past. Further reflection upon these three distinct-- but also overlapping (officially in this document and manifestly in historical praxis)--categories of baptized people seems to suggest that such separation of roles among the people of God no longer serves, If all the people of God are baptized into mission, and bear a responsibility for it, saving the term ministry exclusively for bishops and priests would scarcely be helpful. The term is today widely applied to many kinds of ser-vice as forms of diakonia, an essential component of mission, along with kerygma and koinonia--preaching and community. Perhaps in this connection we could profit from an expanded exploration of the meaning of the priesthood of all of the faithful. In various ways it is being exercised, but without the kind of theological reflec~ tion that would help us understand who we are as a total priestly people of God addressing the many aberrations in faith and morals that surround us in our global society today~ For many of us the subhead "Consecrated for mission" that appears at the beginning of chapter 3 leaps off the page as a sign of theological breakthrough. It encapsulates the case that I tried to"make for this concept in.my 1989. LCWR presidential address (see Origins 19, no. 13 [31 August 1989]: 209-214). At that time the idea abroad here and there that some r.eligious had opted for consecration and others for mission seemed dangerously divisive. The dichotomy became a defining issue for reflecting upon who and what women religious uniquely had become. We were and If all the people of God are baptized into mission, and bear a responsibility for it, saving the term ministry exclusively for bishops and priests would scarcely be helpful. Janltary-Febrvtmy 1997 are present in the world not merely as a kind of ethereal escha-tological "sign" of the kingdom to come--by reason of the vows we profess, that particular consecration of ours. Rather, we were and are present also as ministerial workers actively advancing the good of people and, thereby, the reign of justice and peace. In this way, too, we are a striking sign of the reign of God--by rea-son of our dedication to the mission of Jesus, consecration in that sense as well. Indeed, as the exhortation at this point says, "The task of devoting themselves wholly to 'mission' is ~,. included in their call . A sense of mission is essential to .every institute, not only those dedicated to the active apostolic life, but also those dedicated to the contemplative life" (§72). In support of this, Luke 4:16~ 19 is cited to emphasize that the Spirit has consecrated Jesus to bring good news to the poor, to captives, to the blind (§82). Consecration for mission places the vows in a new context and suggests that they testify to the evangelical counsels' "profound anthropological significance" (§87). Chastity is presented as a response to "a hedonistic culture which separates sexuality from all objective moral norms, often treating it as a mere diversion and a consumer good and, with the complicity of the means of social communication, justifying a kind of idolatry of the sexual instinct" (§88). Poverty is related to "a materialism which craves possessions, heedless of the needs and sufferings of the weakest, and lacking any concern for the balance of natural resources" (§89). And obe, dience is a response to "those notions of freedom which separate this fundamental human good from its essential relationship to the truth and to moral norms. In effect, the promotion of freedom is a genuine value, closely connected with respect for the human person, But who does not see the aberrant consequences of injus-tice and even violence, in th( life of individuals and of peoples, to which the distorted use of freedom leads?" (§91). These ideas on the vows, incarnational in my view, are more compatible with our experience than the idealized and "transcendental" notions pre-sented in the earlier sections of the document. They are consonant with the serious study we have done on Gaudium et spes and with the implications we have drawn for our identity in mission and the ministries we have undertaken to further the reign of God. These interpretations are welcome in expressing a realistic understand-ing of the vows, one with which we can identify. Whether or not~ religious life evolves is in the end not that sig-nificant a question. What really is at issue is whether or not the Review for Religious church--and the religious life within it--has a living tradition, one that adapts and grows and grafts new things into its old self, for the sake of gospel mission. The experience of women reli-gious over the years reveals that there is a dynamic interior prin-ciple among us that challenges, motivates, energizes, and adapts in our ongoing history. The traditional values of religious life are not cast aside; they are evaluated in new contexts, reinterpreted and reformulated for our mission in the contemporary world. Our communal discernment in these recent years convinces us that this interior principle is the Holy Spirit, to whom we must be faithful. Thus, Vita conseo'ata, Pope John Paul's postsynodal exhor-tation "on the consecrated life and its mission," strikes us as an affirmation of a movement of the Spirit of God that we have rec-ognized in our experience and articulated in our theological reflec-tion. We are happy to find this movement acknowledged in this exhortation. Note i "Licet varia haec genera unum Christi mysterium demonstrent, pro-prietatem peculiarem quamvis non unicam laici prae se ferunt, saecular-itatem nempe, pastores ministeriorum curationem, homines consecrati peculiarem cum Christo virgine paupere oboediente conformationem" (AAS 88, no. 5 [13 May 1996]: 405, §31). Our Lady of the Gifts Bewildered by the gifts: they bring Her son--such treasurest. and still listening For more nightsongs strange spirits sing, Her human love thrusts these apart As not fully human; let him start With just one gift; pressed to her breast For all she has to give: her human heart. Nancy G. Westerfield Janua~y-Februmy 1997 BRIAN PIERCE The Vatican II Generation and Religious Life lhad just celebrated my second birthday when John XXIII _~-went over to a dusty, closed window, threw it open with a smile, and invited the windy spirit of Vatican Council II in to freshen things up a bit. Needless to say, I do not recall the excite-ment of that time. Nor do I remember where I was when the news broke that John F. Kennedy had been shot. Only three at the time, I was probably building a fort in a sandbox somewhere-- totally oblivious to the tears and shock that swept the nation and the world, sending my mother into early labor. I do not even remember my little brother's birth the next morning. My preparation for first Communion was with a group of guitar-playing sisters who taught us a revised version of the Act of Contrition (I never did learn the "0 my God, I am heartily sorry" version that my older brother learned). They taught us, too, thaf it was okay to chew the Communion host before swal-lowing it, something my brother had distinctly been told not to do. To top it all off, none of my philosophy or theology classes as a Dominican were in Latin, and so, every time an older Dominican tosses out a Latin phrase during a dinner conversation, We younger men just roll our eyes and pretend to know what he is saying. Coming from that background, I can honestly say that I love the church and am committed to continue the journey as a Brian J. Pierce oP is a member of a Dominican community whose activ-ity includes lay ministry formation, university ministry, and pastoral accompaniment of persons with AIDS. His address is Frailes Dominicos; Apartado 2608, San Pedro Sula; Honduras, Central America. Review for Religious believer, a disciple of Jesus, and a preacher in the family of St. Dominic. I often get the feeling, though, that some of those who grew up in the pre-Vatican church look at us of the postconciliar generation as second-class Catholics: "Nobody can call himself a real Catholic if he's never attended a forty-hours' devotion," said one of those faithful daily-Mass folks to me one morning. I swallowed and smiled, not daring to confess to him that the young priest who had just "said Holy Mass" was one of those question-able "pseudo-Catholics." A sense of humor and some patient understanding help in those situations in which the distances between the generations seem irreconcilable. Religious Life and Spiritual Development In his recent book Further along the Road Less Traveled, M. Scott Peck, noted psychiatrist and spiritual guide, has capsulized in simple language the stages of spiritual development that James Fowler and others had mapped out earlier. Peck speaks of four stages: (1) chaotic-antisocial, (2) formal-institutional, (3) skeptic-individual, and (4) mystical-communal. My intention here is not to give an overview of the stages, but instead to comment on my own experience as a religious withi'n the post-Vatican church in light of Peck's categories. I realize that to make sweeping generalizations about faith development, especially on an institutional level, is both preten-tious and dangerous. I do so only as a way of situating us within the present moment so that we can more readily hear the Spirit calling us to growth. All ages of church history have had persons and communities representing each of the four stages. I think, though, that i( is safe to say that the pre-Vatidan church and reli-gious life had become somewhat bogged down in the legalistic uniformity of Peck's stage 2 (formal-institutional). Vatican II opened up the windows and doors of dialogue, both within the church and with the world. This dialogue marked the social and ecclesial environment in which my generation of religious grew up. In our childhood years Catholic liturgy was being transformed (causing its share of confusion, I later learned), and we began singing such hits as "Sons of God, hear his holy word" (inclusive language being still in an embryonic stagg). Renewal brought many new apostolic groups and movements, and there was an Janua~y-Febm,ary 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life overall air of dialogue and experimentation, especially in religious life. Uniformity was out, and modified habits and consensus deci-sion making were coming in. Vatican II's fresh breeze opened up the possibility for many persons and religious communities to move into skeptic-individ-ual faith development, Peck's stage 3. Peck says that, even though this stage is outwardly less "religious," it is in fact more "spiritual.". It is the stage of healthy questioning, conscientious dissent, and the blending of psychology and spirituality. In many ways those first years manifested themselves as an overreaction to the for-malities and legalisms of years past. In a positive sense it was a time of much dialogue and growth. My generation was still too young to be involved in 'the dialogue, but our early religious edu-cation took place in that environment. I remember the lay couple who taught our confirmation class in the early 1970s stressing that for us to be mature Christians we had to learn to make moral decisions with gospel responsibility. A far cry from the Baltimore Catechism of our parents' generation! Now we are in the 1990s and rapidly approaching the new millennium. Again, recognizing the frailty of making any kind of generalization, I think it safe to say that most of us raised in the postconciliar generation and most of the religious communities that went through renewal are still in Peck's stage 3. I do not mean that we have stopped growing or have become stagnant. Quite the contrary. In the American church in general and also among religious, a strong spirit of creative searching, is still preva-lent. At the same time, though, I think that very few religious communities have moved to what Scott Peck calls the mystical-community level. This may be quite natural, given the fact that Vatican II happened only thirty years ago, but my hope is that our generation may have something to offer here. Those of us who were formed in stage-3 parishes and reli-gious communities, complete with guitar Masses and face-to-face "celebrations of reconciliation," never went through the painful birthing process that gave way to the renewal of Vatican II. We are grateful to those who have gifted us with this rich inheritance-- a more mature and liberating life of faith within the community of believers. In many ways we had it easy, and perhaps it is now our .turn to lead the way through the desert. Many of my friends (ages twenty to forty) have left the church for a variety of reasons. Some have gone back to stage-2 Review for Religious Catholicism (usually lured there by disgruntled elders) or have found security in fundamentalist Christian groups. Reactionary Catholic religious congregations and movements and Bible-thumping evangelical churches (sometimes even with a shiny, high-tech faFade) are on the rise. Others of my friends--some of whom experimented with drugs--are trying to get to stage 4 by New Age pseudomysticism. Many young people today have a thirst for religious and mystical experience, and not all of them seek just a quick fix. The large num-ber of young adults (many ex-Catholics) adhering to the rigorous disciplines of Eastern meditation practices is an impor-tant phenomenon of our day. Our gener-ation is willing to sacrifice if we believe it is worthwhile (that is, no blind obedience, please). What, then, is this new journey that calls out to us today? If Our religious com-munities are not opening up the path to a deeper mystical and communal level of faith (Peck's stage 4), how can we respond in creative ways to bring about the needed growth? I am no expert on either faith development or postcon-ciliar religious renewal, nor do I propose to speak on behalf of all the Vatican II'generation. I simply speak out of my fourteen years of experience, prayerful struggle, and reflection as a Dominican. We have been hearing for several years now that religious life is in crisis, and I basically agree with that reading of the signs of the times. Crisis, however, does not have to mean something bad, a negative experience. Crisis can mean growth, a time for matur-ing, Just as past generations of Catholic religious strove to pro-duce new forms of religious life, so must we do today. This is no time to give up or go backward. We have received a generous and precious inheritance indeed, but the "not yet" of God's reign still burns within us: Now it is our generation's time and task to carry the torch. I am aware that much is being written about the renewal and refounding of religious life these days, and in no way do I intend a comprehensive overview of the issues at'stake. I will look at three main topics (contemplative spirituality, community living and sharing, and ministry among the poor) while attempting to We have received a generous and precious inheritance indeed, but "not yet" of God's reign still burns within us. I7- Januao,-Feb~waO, 1997 Pierce * The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life reflect on them from the perspective of us who were raised beneath the cool shade of Vatican II. Contemplative, Prayerful Living My mother, whbm I consider to be a fairly open and renewed Catholic, still pulls a tattered Stations of the Cross prayer book out of her purse to reflect on before Mass or after Communion. In other words, she still holds on to and receives life from the meditative and devotional practices common before Vatican II. That kind of prayer-book piety does not fill my spiritual needs, but neither does the "my ministry is my prayer" pastoral workaholism that apparently has taken its place, especially among us younger religious. It seems to me that we went from saying prayers (Peck's stage 2) to not saying prayers (stage.3 skepticism) and somewhere along the way began to lose sight of the plain, simple art of just praying. For many of us, the charismatic renewal, with its focus on prayer rather than saying prayers, offered a stepping-stone in our spiritual development, but the emotionalism and fundamental:- ism in the movement caused many to look elsewhere. I am con, vinced now more than ever, after five years of living among the destitute poor of Central America, that being a follower of Jesus necessitates a deep commitment to prayer--and prayer requires time, energy, and creativity. Without a very intentional spiritual life, we run the risk of doing many good things on an ego~ trip rather than out of gospel-based selfless love. As I grow in prayer-ful communion with God, I discover that my loving others is freer, less needy, more liberating. In the past several years, there has been a growing interest in contemplative and centering prayer throughout the country. This is a wonderfully hopeful sign, and in many places it is the laity who are taking the lead in this kind of prayer. It saddens me that I have lived in or visited religious communities where com-mon prayer is either nonexistent (stage-3 individualism, at best) or simply "reciting the breviary" (stage-2 formalism). In order to grow into a communal, stage-4 level of faith, we must learn once again what it means to really pray together. I occasionally spend my annual retreat with a small commu-nity of Benedictine women in Oklahoma. These women gather three times a day for contemplative, sitting meditation, a blend of Review for gelig4ous Catholic contemplative prayer and Eastern meditation practices. The shared silence has been a gift beyond measure for me. In my years of formation, we were enc.ouraged to give time each day to personal or "private" prayer--can Christian prayer ever be "pri-vate"?-- but because of the previous generations' experience of having to spend a half hour together each morning in the chapel for "meditation," we rarely shared silence as a form of prayer. It seems to me that in our day and age, with all its diversity and respect of the individual, we could profit immensely from a kind of shared prayer of silence. Silence binds together and bridges gaps in ways that words sometimes cannot. The liturgical reforms brought in by Vatican II .helped to bring our com-mon prayer back into the real world, but I believe that in many ways our common prayer has become just one more task to complete in the day's busy schedule and thus something that many find uninteresting. Introducing some shared silence into our common prayer can be a way of celebrating sacred time together in a "non-doing" manner. Prayer as a,task to be completed increases the workaholism of the many religious and lay Christians brought up on "do good to your neighbor" faith renewal after Vatican II. Not that we should reverse the renewal, for the recovery of the social-justice dimen-sion of our faith has been one of Vatican II's greatest gifts to the church; but are we perhaps only following our culture's insatiable drive for success and efficiency when we burn ourselves out as gospel do-gooders? A deep spirituality.that combines contem-plative prayer and Sabbath rest not only promotes gospel values, but challenges our consumerist society as well. The renewal of the contemplative dimension of our religious life consequently brings into question the professionalization of our ministerial commitments. I think that the emphasis on solid formation in theology, Scripture, and the social sciences that has come as a result of Vatican II is to be highly lauded, especially for women religious, for whom such opportunities were rare in the preconciliar years. To my mind, this move toward professional- In our day and age, with all its diversity and respect of the individual, we cof~Id profit immensely from a kind of shared prayer of silence. ~anua~y-February 1997 Pierce * The Vatican II G, eneration and Rdi~_ous Life ization, though, has taken away much of the evangelical freedom that marked the early years of our foundations. As professionals we have had to buy into the world of competitive salaries, con-trolled work schedules, tenure-track professorships, and the over-all efficiency mind-set that characterizes the corporate and professional marketplace. Can we honestly cultivate the deeply contemplative prayer life that we entered religious life desiring while yielding too much to that system? Without losing sight of the need to be justly compensated for our ministry, have we not given up some of the freedom to "be with and for God" by trad-ing in our vow of poverty for the corporate model of church life? Have we fallen into'a minimalisrunderstanding of Sabbath (noth-ing more than Sunday Mass) because of the demands of ministry? At a recent day-long conference on Dorothy Day and Thomas Merton--given by Jim Forrest, who knew them both--someone asked what his strongest memory of Dorothy Day was. Jim answered quickly and with no hesitation: "When I think of Dorothy, I think of her on her knees praying. She spent a lot of time in prayer." Imagine that! This dedicated social-justice apos-tle of the United States is remembered as a woman on her knees praying, and for long periods at a time. Stage 4's mystical dimen-sion cannot be integrated into our lives if prayer is just another point on the "things to do" list for the day (after clocking out from work at the social-service agency, of course). Our commu-nal and contemplative prayer must be leaven in the dough of our daily lives. For, when our prayer truly becomes prayer, then our ministry and our lives as a whole will also become prayer. Real Community vs. Corporate Individualism We know it. We say it. We preach it. We write books about it. But do we live it? Do we live real community? The early Christian communities were not sacramental fast-food outlets, nor were they the early predecessor to Motel 6 (key, clean bed, cable TV,, free breakfast, cheap rates). They were brothers and sisters who had made a commitment to each other and to fol-lowing in the footsteps of Jesus of Nazareth. They lived, shared their goods, worshiped, and died with and for one another and the gospel. The beatitudes were their daily bread, and they knew that being a disciple of J.esus was to be their everything, their cross and their deep joy. Jesus was the way, the path by which the com- Review for Religious munity of believers would walk together towards the promised reign of God. Does this sound a bit idealistic? Well, the picture which the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles paint for us probably is a somewhat idealized version of reality. But let us not forget that these pictures appear in our Scriptures precisely because they were the goal towards which the early communities strove. Many ist-century Christians gave their lives to make this dream of com-munal gospel testimony a lived reality. Today we have the same struggles, difficulties, and weaknesses as the early Christians. But can we also claim to share the same goal of offering the world a living witness of the Body of Christ? I think that women and men religious provide coundess exam-ples of Christian witness, but I also think that the communal dimension of gospel living--and consequently of religious life-- has suffered great setbacks since Vatican II. We give ourselves to excellent and creative ministries, but more and more we do them alone. Everyone in the community has a project, and all the pro-jects are nicely organized under a fancy mission statement. We have all made use of the Myers-Briggs and the enneagram to facil-itate our once-a-month interface gatherings (which used to be called community meetings!), but does the world feel the force of our communal witness to the gospel of Christ? In my own Dominican tradition, the example of the first fri-ars in the Americas stands out strongly: a small band of Spaniards on the island of Hispaniola in the early 16th century. Needing to make a response to the atrocities of the conquest and oppression of the island's native inhabitants, and convinced that the atrocities were not the will of God, the community broke with the dominant theology of the day and preached that the Spanish conquerors were living in mortal sin because of their unjust treatment of the Indians. They all signed the community's homily that was preached by Antonio de Montesino, and, as expected, their words brought upon themselves a tidal wave of reactions, one of which was a harsh reprimand from their provincial back in Spain. Listening to the homily that day was young Bartolom~ de las Casas, who years later became the continent's most important defender of the cause of Indian rights. The question that blaringly stands out is whether or not the same words from a single Dominican friar on the island would have had the same dynamic effect on the history of Latin America that the community witness had. I think not. .']anuaty-FebruaD, 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life Today's church has become so individualistic in its focus that one wonders if there is still room for a prophetic witness in com-mon. The "something for everyone" mentality has worked its way into every part of chursh life in our country. Many of our parishes look more like the food malls where thirty or so minirestaurants are squeezed in between J.C. Penney's and Florsheim Shoes. We have become pastoral experts in creating a program for every-one, in itself not a bad outreach mentality; but the lack of focus is something we have to look at seriously. What is the message we are giving about the gospel? How can we celebrate the gains brought on by the council, with its renewal of lay participation in church life, without dispersing our witness in so many directions? I believe we need to step back and ask ourselves the tough ques-tion: Is corporate individualism the same as community? The question becomes even more urgent when we ask it from the point of view of publicly vowed religious life. Are we mir-roring the communal striving of the early Christian communi-ties or the strategic planning model of IBM? Brother David Steindl-Rast~OSB, in his book Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer, uses a wonderful image to describe community living. He com-pares the old model of pre-Vatican corporate uniformity (Peck's formal-institutional) to sardines all lined up in a can--nice and orderly, but all dead. Real community, he says, is more like a school of fish swimming together gracefully'(Peck's mystical-com-munal). I think that we threw away the sardine can in the 1960s and then, liberated and full of life, all swam off in different direc-tions (Peck's skeptic-individual). How can we get back to swim-ming together gracefully in a school without destroying our creativity or drowning our witness in watered-down corporatism? There certainly are no easy answers, but we know deep down the hunger for such a life. Young people want community. Many of the people my age and younger are tired of the broken fami-lies, broken relationships, and lonely apartment living that have characterized our generation. The thousands of young people who flock to Taiz~ each year in postmodern, de-Christianized Europe must be telling us something. The human heart longs for communion, and the world denies the fulfillment of that longing to more and more people everyday. Many religious women and men are choosing to live alone and work .in their own ministries, often identifying themselves professionally with a group that is not their religious community. Review for Religious We have come to accept this reality as quite normal, but will it continue to attract young people to a life of public, gospel-cen-tered, and vowed living? Real community is an urgent need for us who long to channel our creative energies in healthy ways in a world that sees little value in the commitment of celibate living. Will we find that companionship if we come home to an answer-ing machine full of messages or a "com-munity" room full of brothers or sisters inert before the TV set like the pillars at Stonehenge? Could Acts 2:42-47 give us some hints as to where to continue journeying along the path? References there to the teaching of the apostles, the common life, the breaking of the bread, and prayer point to a community that spent a lot of quality time together. Today we have many meetings run with corporate efficiency, but do we really spend time together (sharing the day's stories during a leisurely evening meal, faith sharing, studying the day's or the week's liturgy texts together, recreating or even taking a day off together--away from the phone and TV-)? The early Christian community's life had a tremendous impact on the local people (2:43). Does ours? Have we ever considered a ministry in which the whole community works as a team (for example, a series of lay formation workshops, time each week in a soup kitchen, regular visits to the AIDS wing of a hospital), giving witness to the value of community through our example? The passage goes on (2:44-45) to the difficult point of sim-ple living and common sharing of goods. It is an area of great challenge for us today. We have adopted the "have credit card, will travel" mentality of mainstream America, some of which, per-haps,, is inevitable. But are we taking these steps with sufficient reflection and caution? Are we willing to defend the truth even when it may not be a popular stance among some of our generous benefactors? Do we tithe from our salaries and communal accounts?.Where does our province or religious congregation invest its money? Do those investments promote social, economic, and ecological justice? Are we content with generic brands of food Many of the people my age and younger are tired of the broken families, broken relationships, and lonely apartment living that have characterized our generation. ffanuaty-February 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life and a simple wardrobe? Do we have a common library, or do we all keep adding personal bookshelves? There are many questions to struggle with, but gospel witness is well worth the struggle. The last two verses of the passage (2:46-47) speak of enthu-siasm, joy, and simple sharing. We glimpse an early community that freely praised God while giving a clear witness to an alter-native, counterculrural way of living. Freedom to be for God and for others was their common ground. They risked martyrdom in order to keep giving their communal witness to the gospel. Theirs is not an easy act to follow, but it sure beats a sardine-can existence or lonely nights at Motel 6. Acompafiamiento, a Way of Walking with the Poor A great gift of Vatican II and these past thirty years has been the church's openness to continuing the dialogue with the world that the council's document on the church, Lumen gentium, high-lighted. The Latin American Church followed up with the prophetic stances taken during the Medellin and Puebla confer-ences of bishops (1968 and 1979). In the United States the pastoral letters on peace and economic justice have been lights .on the path of relating gospel faith to pertinent issues in our world today. We must not underestimate the steps that have been taken since Vatican II. Having said all this, I wish to comment on where I see a weak-ness in our post-Vatican II model of engagement with the world's poor. Not that what is being done is wrong or contrary to the gospel, but in many instances there is, I think, a need to move to a deeper level. Archbishop Oscar Romero, the martyred prophet of El Salvador, popularized during his years as archbishop the term acompa~amiento (accompaniment), a form of walking with the poor that is different from just working with the poor. Acompa~amiento is a way of living more than a way of doing (though, of course, this division in itself is dualistic). Several years ago I heard the noted liberation theologian Gustavo Guti~rrez say that we often reduce the option for the poor to going to the poor neighborhoods and barrios, to the social-service centers and the inner-city schools to work during the day, only to return to our comfortable homes and convents at night. To truly opt for the poor, Guti~rrez said, means to spend the nights withthem as well. In other words, we are called not only Review for Religiotts to do good things for the poor, but to be with them, to walk with them, to live with them, and, if necessary, to die with them. Romero's acompa~amiento could be translated as "sharing bread along the journey." It is different from giving bread to the poor; it is a sharing of life that dissolves the distances that separate us from them. To opt for the poor through acompa~amiento moves beyond all dualisms to make more real the concepts of global commu-nity and people of God. The hospice movement, Habitat for Humanity, L'Arche, and Christian base communities are expres-sions of this new way of being church and community. Each model portrays a community of equals, living and working together for a new world. There is very little corporate mentality present in them. This was the power of Archbishop Romero's witness--an erasing of the distances: the sheep and the shepherd together risk-ing their lives for the kingdom. How can our communities continue to make the transition to more of an acompa~amiento model over the traditional "charity" model (I do not favor the impoverishment of the word charity in contexts like this). I believe that, first of all, we have to set aside the obsession with efficiency and success that our world impresses upon us and complement our doing with an equal emphasis on being with. It is not an easy step. Rather than sending money, clothes, and food to the poor, can we pray, eat, study, recreate, and even live with them? The challenge is at the heart of the Catholic Worker Movement founded by Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin decades ago, and it is the call heralded by St. Paul when he proclaimed that our baptism erases all the divisions between persons, making possible a true community of equals (Ga 3:28). Finally, and perhaps this takes us back to the start, I believe that to truly love the poor as .sisters and brothers requires a con-templative (mystical) heart. To develop the capacity to stand in silence alongside the poo~r and accept the ambiguities of life is to grow into the mystical dimension of our faith. We really are not separate from "the others," but only a contemplative heart can begin to grasp the interconnectedness that holds us all together. If we grow in such contemplativeness, our being with becomes less a heroic act of giving life to .somebody in need and more a happy fulfilling of our potential as children of God: we are uninhibitedly glad of the opportunity to see the kingdom that .Jesus preached radiating from our simple act of "sharing bread along the journey." Januao,-FeblvlaO, 1997 Pierce * The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life I recently learned this lesson anew. A group of university stu-dents and I were scheduled to visit the inmates at the local prison. The students, among whom was Diana, a young crippled woman, met at our house, about ten blocks from the prison. I quietly asked if one of the students would go with her on the bus while the rest of us walked to the prison. Overhearing my request, Diana told me politely that she preferred to walk. I would not hear of it. Angry that no one offered to go with her on the bus, I decided to do it myself. By that point Diana, perceiving herself a burden to ¯ the group, had grabbed her crutches and begun walking home. When she finally had the courage to return to the group two months later, she told me I had made her feel terribly uncom-fortable that day. I had wanted to do something~r Diana. She simply wanted to be part of the group. I had seen her as a problem rather than as a person. Without a heart made flesh by prayerful silence and careful listening, we run the risk--as we go about doing good works to save the world of forgetting that we too are just part of this world already saved by God's love. To step back, to see and lis-ten to God speaking to us through poor people, is not always the quickest, most efficient way to bring about change in the world, but it is God's way. Stepping back, we discover anew each day that we are all part of one body--crippled, broken, healed, and set free. Community and Grace Thirty years after Vatican II, we all still have much to learn. The gospel is new each day and in every generation. However much progress we may have made since, the council, we need some self-critique as we continue the journey. Many people my age are not attracted to a church that differs little from the trap-pings of their everyday job, and the skeptic individualism in reli-gious life does not stand out as an exciting alternative. They can live that way and get paid a pretty good salary for it! Religious life' among the Vatican II generation must continue to offer some kind of critique of the dominant culture if it is to be viable for our times. Some cultural criticism, however, neglects important parts of Jesus' teaching. The post-Vatican II generation of Catholics is nov looking for more moralistic condemnations of modernity. They want a life with deep meaning, a simple life Review for Religious they can share with real people (and not just through their Internet modems!), a life that can help to make our world a bet-ter place without making themselves workaholic basket cases in the process. I believe it is still possible to swim gracefully through the waters of our times, guided not by the uniformity of the past nor the runaway individualism of the present, but by the Spirit of Jesus given to us and quietly moving in us with transforming new-ness and amazing grace. Awakening Golden leaves rustle and swirl Beneath the silver birch tree As sunlight from crisp blue skies Comes to rest on the forest floor. And nature poised on winter's brink Does not die but falls asleep Until it one bright spring morn Awakens to song of birds and brook. How like our lonely restless souls When in their final slumber lie Until aroused one glorious dawn By sweet sounds of an angel's horn. Eva Marie Ippolito Janua~y-Fd.-uaty 1997 F EDWARD VAN MERRIENBOER Of Those Who Leave Us: A Typology Tpe contemporary leader of a religious community is ected to be a person of prayer, with a vision, who can manage finance and who knows the legal aspects of public cor-porate life. Although few people ever fulfill all of these expecta-tions, most leaders do very well at some of them while in office. Many leadership tasks give one a sense of joyful accomplishment; of those that fail to do so, none is more painful, in my experi-ence, than participating in the departure of a member. I was a member of my province's council from 1973 to 1983 and then, until 1992, a member of our general council in Rome. In both the provincial and international contexts, the pain was ever present when a petition for dispensation came in. Impressed by the unique story that each of the many petitions revealed, I began to ask myself what I could learn from them personally and corporately about departure. During my nine years on our general council, I kept a brief list of people's reasons for leaving. My purpose was to learn from these experiences how to help those in leadership. I wanted espe-cially to help the men working in our initial formation programs so that they in turn could help our candidates avoid such painful experiences for themselves and their communities in the future. I share these reflections in that spirit. Edward van Merrienboer OP chairs the Department of Theology and Philosophy at Barry University. From 1983 to 1992 he was assistant gen-eral for the apostolic life of the Dominican order. He has written on reli-gious life, social justice, and spirituality. He can be addressed at Barry University; 11300 Northeast Second Avenue; Miami Shores, Florida 33161. Review for Religious Collating the many stories, I found that about eighty percent of those who left our community from 1983 to 1992 could be gathered into five groups, no matter what part of the world they lived in. My findings, of course, are not scientific conclusions of the sort one expects from an empirical study using a sociological method. Rather, they are reflections made after reading petition after petition regarding departure decisions that had been arrived at by individuals and/or the provincial leadership. I did not speak with the men petitioning for dispensation, nor did I interview their provincial leadership for additional data. My typology is based on what they and their provincial superiors wrote in the petitions. Typologies are models that seldom fit reality perfectly: there is always some overlap among the types. But still the general pat-terns proved helpful when I was making visits to our provinces. These types, from what I have learned from previous members of our general council, represent a change. During the time of Pope Paul VI, most members departed°to enter marriage. Today this is still a reason, but other reason~ have become more dominant. I have shared my findings with members of other general councils. They have found my insights to be valid in their communities and have encouraged me to share them more widely. What follows is a brief description of the five types of mem-bers seeking permission to leave and of the behaviors that led to their petition: the free agents, the must-have-its, the new founders, the loss-of-hopes, and the I'm-better-nows. The Free Agents Most free-agent petitions came from those who entered at the time of the Second Vaticah Council or within ten years after it. My religious community, like most religious communities of that time, was emerging from an era of strict legalism and con-formity. While we never had a fixed mold to force people into, informal ideas of what religious were supposed to be and to do defined almost every aspect of our lives. Perfection would be achieved by going through a "narrow gate," the perfect mechanism for making sure that, of the many called, few would be chosen. After the council, all the rules of our life were examined and revised. Now a wide embrace would replace the narrow way that was so well defined. Pluralism was encouraged in ministry and in 29 January-Feblwal.'~ 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us local community life. Everyone was encouraged to participate in shaping our life and mission.For most of us this new freedom was a blessing because it allowed us to be ourselves and be faith-ful to our community at the same time. While limits were less defined, most religious knew that there were limits because of our vowed life. This was not the case with the members whom I am calling free agents. They enjoyed the new freedom and saw no limits. For some of them the freedom involved embracing works that were hard to locate within the mission of the institute or within the vowed life. Commonly they found ways to spend community funds while being little concerned about bringing in any money themselves or about the consequences of their expenditures on their community. Because finance is so concrete, much of the ten-sion between free agents and their community is about money. In extreme cases they establish private bank accounts or have funds that are not accountable to the community. Sizable funding is essential to them because it provides the means to express their freedom. Money provides the physical necessities they need to be free from the community's demand for responsible account-ability. Another area of conflict between free agents and their com-munity is their approach to relationships within and outside the community. Some of these relationships become exclusive com-mitments that involve genital expression. Self-direction in ministry becomes essential as part of their freedom agenda. Most are happy with the spirit of freedom that the council mandated; but, when "oppressive" superiors or members begin to challenge their lim-itless freedom, they became unhappy and start to question their vocation. They often say that they woul.d never have come to the point of seeking dispensation from their vows if it had not been for narrow-minded, or legalistic leaders. They do not see the problem of living a lifestyle that is contrary to their public commitment. Long and painful dialogues with their superiors do not enable them to see the points of conflict. Some express their anger at the community for trying to restrict the freedom given to them by the council. Many view the challenges coming to them from their community as statements of distrust. The decision to leave the community is a result of having to choose concretely between their agenda of freedom and certain Review for Relig~ous behaviors their community identifies as essential. It is tragic that often these members leave us without ever understanding that every life option imposes certain limits upon people, that in this regard religious life is no different than any other vocation. The Must-Have-Its Departing members of the second type seek dispensation within a very short time--usually three years or less--after their final profession or ordination. Judging from externals, one won-ders whether these members have really given religious life a fair chance. A common concern expressed by leadership is that these members may be acting in haste. The problems the mem-bers are experiencing could be rooted in the normal adjustment period from initial forma-tion to the wider life of the community. Because of the short time that these mem-bers have been in the community, unless there have been major difficulties previously, most religious superiors give only a very qualified support to their petitions for dispensation. This is understandable from an administrative per-spective, but I think there is an aspect of these members' personality that is perhaps being over-looked. It is this: They cannot come to a decision to leave the religious life or the priesthood until they actually possess these realities. Part of their personality demands that they prove to themselves that they can be a religious before they can decide that they do not want to be one. Some of this feeling is rooted in a need to be clear that they are rejecting the community and not being sent away. Very often I noted that, when during their initial formation they were asked as candidates to question their decision to be a religious, they responded by devoting themselves to becoming a better religious. Even when their simple vow period was extended so that they could look at their vocation, they never questioned their call to religious life. Some indicate that, almost from the day of their final pro-fession or ordination, they began to question if this was for them. They felt that before final profession they really .had not known While limits were less defined, most religious knew that there were limits because of our vowed life. Janua~y-Feb~vla~y 1997 Merrienboer ¯ Of Those Who Leave Us what it would be like; now they knew fully and were not happy. Others fully expected that after final commitment their experience of the life and ministry would change radically. It did not; in some ,cases it even became worse. They were given less attention and were expected to be fully contributing members of the commu-nity- which beEame a major source of frustration. Even in situations where a mentor was assigned to assist them in their adjustment to the postformation community life, there was little the community could do to change the attitude that, "now that I have what I set out to achieve, I noolonger want it." My reading of their autobiographies comes up with a pattern throughout their life of obtaining something, then setting it aside. Before entering the community, a high number of petitioners had obtained graduate degrees in unrelated fields and then never used this knowledge and experience. At the core of persons of this type is their inability to project their hopes into the future and make an assessment of their fitness for that vocation. Their experiences of initial formation do not enable them to make an educated guess about their ability to live religious life in the future. They only know what is present to them, and now that they have the life in its fullness they no longer want it for themselves. The New Founders Some people enter a religious community with the idea of reshaping it according to their own vision of religious life. Such an idea is in strange contrast to a community's centuries-long acceptance of its charism, but it is a fact that some people feel that their own image of religious life today takes priority over all that has come before it. One area into which such new-foundation efforts are brought is the community's mission. New founders would define this mis-sion as movement for social change or promotion of a different theological perspective. In countries where there has been a his-tory of repression in society, they see religious community as a resistance movement that offers its members prophetic opportu-nities. When the new founders promote involvement in social action, they become disappointed that not all the members feel called to participate. In more industrial countries the meaning of religious life, Review for Religious according to some new founders, is to protnote the women's movement or the gay movement. For others it is to become pro-tectors of traditional understandings of the faith. A common focal point for new founders is the community's liturgy. It becomes the platform for their view of religious life. Whether traditional or progressive, they see community prayer as a way to form the other members into a new identity. Most new founders are critical of programs for new members and of the actions of the community's leaders. They believe that, if their own vision of things prev~lils, the community will be refounded with new vitality. They blame the community's short-age of vocations on its resistance to their newcomers' vision of community renewal. The tone of their petitions for dispensation often indicates that they consider themselves to be ahead of or even better than most of the institute's members. They predict dire consequences for the community after their departure, Convinced that their own vision is important and urgent, they feel they must leave and find a place to implement it immedi-ately. Such refounding attitudes seem to stem from an assumption that the community is joining them on their journey, not that they are joining a group that already has a reasonably defined identity as it proceeds on its journey. In my experience, formation programs that encourage self-expression without enough regard for the community's corporate identity only encourage new founders in convictions that will prove problematic. The Loss-of-Hopes I have thus far described three types of departing members. I believe that the responsibility for their departure from religious life rests primarily with them and not the community. The com-munity has failed them in many ways, but the motivation of these individuals has been essentially flawed, often from their very early years in religious life. The fourth type of persons leaving reli-gious life today are different. Here the primary responsibility for the departure lies with the community, with its lack of faithfulness to its charism. These tragic petitions come from persons who have given their best effort to be faithful to the religious life and have not found much support from other members. Some have found it JanuaTy-Febtvtaty 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us nearly impossible to find within their community a supportive environment for prayer and the vowed life. If they have shared their frustrations with other members, they often have received kind words but not active support. Sometimes this, alienation from the community has been caused by other members' general lack of interest in things spir-itual. These other members see themselves as professionals and have little feeling for the idea of a vocation. Considering the meaning of the vows to be very personal, they avoid discussing their own viewpoint with others for fear of seeming to impose it on them. I believe that the departure decisions of members of this type are rooted in their experience of hopelessness about the direc-tion in which the community seems to be moving. Often they feel that they do not even speak a common language about reli-gious life with the other members. They feel that the commu-nity has settled for the lowest common denominator for reasons of avoiding the tensions associated with serious conversion efforts. From my distant vantage point, there appear to be real signs of death in places where these departing members have been living their religious life; regrettably, suggestions to try another place are too late by the time the petition for dispensation reaches the major superior. It falls on leaders to learn from these tragic stories and to address the perceived failures as part of their leadeiship task. In my experience, it is almost impossible to restore hope to members who have become disillusioned; but leadership should make dis-tinct efforts to change situations in which, in the future, even more members would be likely to lose their hope. The I'm-Better-Nows Persons of the fifth and final type of men leaving religious life during my term of office were those who through most of their lives suffered from spiritual or emotional problems. Often their motive for entering religious life was the hope of having their problems resolved by the vowed life. Some of these problems were rooted in their early childhood experiences. Religiou~ life appeared to be a safe place to escape the pain of their family sit-uation. Their low self-esteem was a primary reason for entering community. Their hope, however, that religious life would con- Revie'a, for Religious fer a new value on them and make them better people had not been fulfilled. In some cases the reality of verbal or physical abuse made them fearful of any close relationship. They perceived the vow of chastity as protecting them from such trials, but as the years passed they experienced an inability to relate in a healthy manner with other members of the community. Their lives were marked by a crisis event, such as substance abuse, which made their superiors suggest or even require them to get professional help. Their petitions for depar-ture were often set in the context of the ther-apy in which their suffering was addressed. As they became spiritually and emotionally more integrated, their reasons for being a religious seemed to them less cogent. If they now were capable of healthy relationships, they wanted marriage or the freedom to find deeper mean-ing outside religious community. While it might seem strange, their main reason for wanting to leave community was that they were now happy and did not need the community anymore, Their needs for protection and status had been resolved in a positive manner. Most of these petitioners expressed gratitude to the community for their loving support through their many trials, and they knew true sorrow as they left. I have spoken with a number of healthcare givers about mem-bers of this type, and all have suggested that departure may be the best option for them. They also suggest that religious should examine within their communities the dynamics that allow peo-ple to hide from their problems until they reach the crisis stage. One healthcare professional once told me he thought that reli-gious practice "false mercy" in not addressing the problems of disturbed members until there is a major crisis. As they became spiritually and emotionally more integrated, their reasons for being a religious seemed to them less cogent. Reflections for the Future No matter how perfect our formation programs become, there will always be some members who make the decision to leave us after many years of association. This is to acknowledge frankly Janttaty-Febtvtat3, 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us the human dimension of religious life, but we can learn from our experiences. It is for the sake of such learning that I have shared my insights as a general-council member who has returned to his province and seen these patterns continuing in religious com-munities. Can we learn from those who have left us? Can we speak hon-estly with our present members when we see behaviors that have led others to leave us? I believe that, if we have the courage to say yes to these two questions, the pain of occasionally having some members choose to leave us and our life together would be much more bearable. In the Temple Year followed year the two had come to this place, old man, old woman, wearing persistence like a skin. Here, perhaps, familiar shadows sharpened the eye's observance. What ¯ better place to find the light, and by it be found, than in the dark? Leonard Cochran OP Review for Religious HILARY OTTENSMEYER Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing From time to time a gathering of like-minded Christians-- whether it be a spiritual-direction group, an Emmaus group, a Bible-sharing group, or a prayer group--expresses a desire to "go deeper." This desire, perhaps only vaguely defined, generally means that the members want to be more self-revealing, more honest in discussing areas of faith, doubts about the church, glossed-over conflicts within the group, and fears that the meetings have become perfunctory, even boring. In such a case the introduction of some simple group dynamic into the meetings may allow the group to reach a new and more comfortable, if challenging, level of sharing. A dynamic based on the four seasons seems well suited to that task.~ The first time the dynamic is used, an outside facilita-tor can be helpful, one whom the group has chosen for being able and trustworthy. Later, on its own, the group could well devote at least one session to each of the seasons. Nature's seasons are an experience with which we are all familiar. The seasons can function for a group in poetic, dynamic ways, that is, ways in which the clearest and most labored prose cannot. Such metaphors break through the limits of human speech and help us become aware of thoughts and feelings that are otherwise inaccessible. The "I am" statements of John's Gospel demonstrate this beau-tifully. Each believer brings a different set of meanings Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB wrote "The Problem with Problems" for our September-October 1995 issue. His address remains 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing on hearing Jesus describe himself as the Good Shepherd or the Bread of Life. The seasons function in a similarly evocative way. People instinctively realize that we grow only when we hon-estly share the burdens and problems of our minds and hearts. Time and again we witness this in the pages of the Gospels. The healed leper, the demoniac rescued from among the tombs, the blind Bartimaeus lifted from his roadside isolation, the breath-less disciples returning to Jerusalem from the road to Emmaus, all these Jesus restores to community where they can pour out their hearts in sharing their "stories." Some Cautions Sharing in a group must be neither .intrusive nor abusive. Certain agreed-upon boundaries need to be set to protect the sanctuary of the individual conscience and the dignity of personal free will. There can be no forced entry into the heart. Even God will not force that door, but, like a true lover, quietly tells us, ,Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me" (Rv 3:20). The ultimate dream: table companionship with God! As a minimum, the following rules apply: 1. Members should make only."I" statements, never "you" statements, that is, "I think." and not "You are . " We cannot know the full reality of other people's minds and hearts until we ask them from a respectful distance. 2. Anyone should feel free to call a halt at any time to a line of inquiry directed towards herself or himself: "I'd really rather not discuss that at this time." This allows group members to claim the reverence which is their due. 3. Members should accept responsibility for the unfolding of their lives, avoiding the chronic "victim mentality" that is pervasive in our culture. Blaming others or "life" is most often an evasion.~ As one friend expresses' it, there are four doors into the neurotic. Each door is a belief in one of the following statements: (1) I can make you happy; (2) I can make you sad; (3) you can make me happy; (4) you can make me sad. Reluctant though we are to acknowledge it, each one of us is responsible for his or her own life. Only catastro-phes that overwhelm us exempt us from facing this honestly. 4. We help each other through honest and clear feedback, painful though that may sometimes be. Simple feedback, that Review for Religious is, a brief statement about how another's thoughts or actions come up in one's own life, proves most helpful: "When I am drawn to act that way, I find ."Advice giving is to be care-fully avoided. Other cautions come to mind, but these seem basic. We do not have a direct perception of ourselves. So burdened are our thought processes, so fixed into routine are our actions, that we need the kind mirror of another's perceptions held up before us. We seem at times so suffocated by our prejudices, by our closely guarded denials and chosen ignorances, that we experience a real joy when someone gently opens the window to let in the fresh air of new ideas and new possibilities. Indeed, our deepest prej-udices are those we hold against ourselves. This is the saddest discovery of all. What a joy when someone helps us stand up and claim our own worth! Fall: Season of Fruition Easing into the sharing process is most gently done by choos-ing as a beginning the symbol of fall. Most mellow of seasons, fall is the time of harvest, when good things are gathered up and fes-tivals begin. The rewards of hard work and steady determination lie before us. We have a need to celebrate at this time of year. At this point, what are the fruits of the group's loyalties? There are stored memories of joy shared, of times when a mem-ber has been lifted up and celebrated. The group has had insights that can be recalled, times when it realized that Jesus was there in their midst and hearts burned with awareness of his presence. The Lord was walking with the group as it went along the way. Ours is a faith community devoted to the joys of remembrance, as every Eucharist proclaims. One way of beginning: Inventory the gifts each individual brings to the group. What do I bring to the group which, because of my background, education, talents, and so forth, constitutes a special gift? Follow this by a question put to the entire group: What do we think this one member contributes that is most enriching? Move on then to a consideration of how the group has changed over time, pointing out new levels of support and understanding. Where has a sense of continuity been discerned? What new and unexpected biessings have been slowly revealed in each individual? ffanuao,-Febrttaty 1997 Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing An important benefit of a sharing group is the contact that members have between sessions. We all struggle to keep alive a "circle of friends." A support group affords an excellent opportu-nity to widen that circle beyond relatives and school-day chums. Do the members of the group reach out to each other between meet-ings? Has acquiring and sustaining friends--those essential inter-personal skills--been nurtured by the activities of the support group? What new skills have been acquired? "If you want a friend, be a friend" is a truth that needs to be lived out day by day. Living in community is of itself no assurance of having friends, but only company. Have I worked at being a friend to members of the group? Winter: Season of Perseverance Winter is the season of hoping and of endurance. For most of us in these northern climes, except for the occasional bright win-ter day, the skies are covered and a chill hangs over the land. Winds bite. Snow and ice impede travel. One has to draw on deep inner resources of strength, and hold on to memories of warmer days. There are winter seasons for a support group, too. These times have to be confronted and admitted. There is a time for breaking open the soil before spring planting. We are reluctant to put a hand to this kind of work, but it is the necessary condition for future growth. A "winter" discussion is the most difficult kind the group will have, and requires patience and loyalty. Questions needing examination fall easily into three cate-gories: 1. Where have we silently established "off limits" areas of discussion: subtly agreed-upon restrictions and withhold-ings? When and how does sharing break down in the group? What expectations did we bring when we joined the group, and how have these been disappointed because of these unspoken conventions? Was I honest with my hopes when I joined? Certainly, every group has the right to mark the boundaries of its sharing. But were these boundaries hon-estly agreed on when the group was formed? Were we too idealistic, too superficial, or too demanding? Were there angers in the group that were glossed over? ¯ 2. What does the group need to work on with determina-tion, for example, admitting and establishing boundaries, facing avoidances; or surfacing denials? Review for Religious 3. Very importantly, what healings need to take place? Does any member feel wounded or rejected in any way? How would this healing best come about? One makes a wonderful discovery in crossing this difficult winter terrain. Secrets can poison people's lives. When we have the courage and trust needed to reveal those tender areas of the heart, we find that others too have suffered in the same way. Walls crum-ble. The Jesus who draws us together out of our loneliness and fears is there, in the eyes and voices of others, to strengthen the fragile bonds that hold together a faith community. Spring: Season of Hope Renewed We all love spring with its beginnings of new life, with early crocuses, hyacinths, and tulips. Winter seems sometimes to linger stubbornly, but spring finally triumphs and spirits soar. Melting snows turn into sparkling rivulets. Sap rises in the trees, and ten-der greens appear along the limbs of trees. A support group too brings forward its hopes for renewal, for new life. It is helpful to go back and test the roots for their vital-ity. This can be done when the members share where their indi-vidual faith stories began. People are always eager to tell their stories. The vast professional therapeutic industry has risen because people are hungry to recount their stories. If the listen-ers are skilled, they can help the storyteller understand better the meaning of the tale. Within the faith story, certain elements are important. Who taught you to pray? Who were your role mod-els of faith? What were some of the significant moments on your faith journey? What was your image of God in childhood years, and how has it evolved over the years? How do you pray at this time in your life? What more do you wish for in your relationship with God? What is your answer when Jesus asks, "What do you want meto do for you?" (Mk 10:51). Not only do roots need to be inspected, but growth too needs to be looked for. What hungers are you aware of in your faith today? How could this support group help you? What aspects of your faith do you want to bring into the lives of those you love or those with whom you work? I have noticed that groups experience a surge of interest when "spring" sessions take place. A renewed commitment, a deeper investment is made in the group, and mem-bers reach a deeper trust level very easily. Januao,-FebrttaO, 1997 Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing Summer: Season of Sustained Growth The summer months fill us with a sense of achievement. The harsh days of winter are over. The stimulating work of spring has been accomplished. Now is the time to relax and enjoy the warm days and long, quiet evenings. In fields and in flower beds around the house, buds are gathering to maturity; grains are swelling in the fields and fruits filling out to ripeness in the orchards. This is the season of contentment, when gentle rains come to nature's aid. Now people have time for visits, vacations, and concerts in the park. Indeed, the "lazy, hazy days of summer" clothe us like a comfortable garment, and we are grateful. Groups, too, can benefit from at least one "summer" session, counting the blessings the members have seen coming to fruition among themselves. What was the heritage the individual members received from their mother and father? Looking back on the ten-der years of childhood, each person recognizes a "gift" from his or her parents, a "breath of life" that only parents could breathe into the heart of a child. Influenced deeply by our family roots, we make decisions about our place, our possibilities, in the world. What was the special legacy, outlook on life, stance before the future that the members received-from their mother and father? And how has this gift been nurtured and cherished? How did the hands of your father and mother feel at your back as they sup-ported your first steps and as you still, to this da~,, feel their hands steadying your walk through life? Or, and this too must be faced, did their hands grasp you and hold you back? When did you first feel the hand of God at your back, reach-ing with help and love into your life? Perhaps you experienced God as a hand drawing you forward through difficult days and years, pointing the way prophetically towards promise. Which times were times of contentment, when your journey reached a plateau and you rested quietly for a while? Seasoned Years Our lives seem to take the shape of repeated cycles. The pri-mordial journey of Abraham comes to mind here. A call comes to move forward when we are asked to entrust our future to God in faith. Then follows a transition period presenting obstacles to overcome, anxieties and failures to accept, flesh commitments courageously to be made to our beckoning God. Finally comes a Review for Religious sense of arrival, a time to rest and gather strength for the next call, time to sing a canticle of gratitude. Such a pattern applies to a support group. How has the group experienced these calls, these trials, and these periods of rest? Does the group know how to celebrate its members, choosing activities that will express its joy? One priest group I know takes a three-day trip each summer. All eight pile into a rented van, set out for a not-too-distant point of interest, and simply enjoy them-selves. They are gathering shared happy experiences to live on through the months to come. Nothing has been said on the impor-tant topics of how a group is set up, how members select themselves into a group (or are allowed to join it), and how an individual might bring closure when leav-ing. Indeed, perhaps the group decides it no longer serves its original purposes and goes out of existence. No mention has been made of how a group defines its orig-inal goals or modifies them. Without that vital process, the prospects for a successful investment of time and energy are rather dim. These are all con-siderations for another article, one that indeed has been written many times and was not our purpose here. Group renewal is our purpose. Every group, no matter how well put together at its inception or how generous and serious the will of its members, needs to be renewed in its commitment from time to time. The four seasons of the year can help in that necessary task. When did you first feel the hand of God at your back, reaching with help and love into your life? Note ~ The seminal idea for this article was suggested to me by Donna Fyffe; CommunityWorks; 101 West Ohio Street, Suite 1776; Indianapolis, Indiana 46204. Januar),-FebJvlat3, 1997 PAUL DUCKRO, MARJORIE KUKOR, AND JEAN MEIER Inner Work with Your Anger Anger is an emotion much maligned. It is often referred to as a "negative" emotion. Many persons are not comfort-able feeling anger and seek to suppress it in the interest of har-mony and accommodation. Paradoxically, by such efforts people increase their likelihood of expressing anger dysfunctionally. When people suppress anger, or even repress it, it does not disappear; it is left to work its way indirectly, like a force under-ground. It may express itself in very rationalized statements, rec-ognized only in the impossible and recurring problems that follow in their wake. There may be episodic outbursts of anger followed by gre~t anxiety and remorse, forming a cycle of conflict. Other persons may use anger much more overtly, as a domi-nating force. In them anger is a trademark, emerging frequently with few inhibitions. It may even become crystallized in ways of viewing the world--as evil, inconvenient, incompetent, and so forth. Either extreme--expressing anger frequently or habitually suppressing it--may lead to the development of a clinically sig-nificant syndrome for which professional therapy is indicated. Along with such destructive potential, anger has many posi-tive aspects that we shall point out. Moreover, there are proactive ways to deal constructively with deleterious anger in everyday life. Behavioral therapies have been demonstrated to be very effec- Paul Duckro PhD, Dr. Marjorie Kukor, and Jean Meier CSJ, PsyD, can be written to at St. Louis Behavioral Institute; 1129 Macldind Avenue; St. Louis, Missouri 63110. Review for Religious tive. For example, cognitive behavior therapy is effective in cases of uncontrolled anger, suppressed anger, simmering resentment, or cycles of angry outburst and fearful restraint. Typically it com-bines development of new skills, modification of dysfunctional beliefs, and exploration of past experiences that have shaped a person's thoughts and behaviors. More experiential approaches are effective too. In clinical practice these have been shown to improve the recognition, acknowledgment, and expression of anger, whether or not there is the opportunity to work through the anger interpersonally. Experiential therapies take many forms. Art, movement, and fan-tasy are common ways to explore and express anger. Painting and sculpturing are evocative media through which the source of someone's anger can be revealed. Color and form can often rep-resent anger that lies too deep for words. This therapy has long been used with children, but it is no less effective with adults who feel trapped in their own anger. Exercise and movement can express and diffuse angry feelings. Emotional energy is "con-verted" into physical energy rather than being "trapped" in psy-chological or physical symptoms. Fantasy allows people to express and then explore their powerful emotions in a safe way, even toward absent or deceased persons or toward the unseen God. The persons "work through" angry feelings, moving toward a new level of integration and wholeness. Experiential therapies are important when the anger is not even recognized, much less processed, as emotion. It is not unusual for anger to be experienced and expressed--and masked-- in intellectualized forms such as opinions and logical judgments. In such cases, working in a tactually receptive form of experien-tial therapy can release emotions otherwise effectively disguised as thoughts and verbalizations. For persons of faith, contemplative or meditational encounter with the anger has great potential, linking the psychological and spiritual aspects of healing. It is on this approach to anger man-agement that we focus here. For our purposes we will refer to it as inner work. Inner work is the interior correspondent of con, flict resolution. The essence of both is movement, as opposed to remaining stuck in resentment, bitterness, or cynicism. From the exterior perspective, the time given to inner work appears to be "doing nothing." In fact, this doing nothing is true only superficially. Inner work is an active and engaging process of Janua~y-Feb~'ualy 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger coming to terms with both the immediate stimulus for the anger and its deeper sources within. Synergistic with the more obvious activity of conflict resolution, engaging in inner work may provide the time needed for cooling off. Beyond such a practical benefit, this doing nothing is also the space in which one can reflect and make associations and thus prepare to move forward in relation-ships. It helps individuals to insure that they are not pinning their own issues onto someone else or substituting one-sided judgment for dialogue. Stages of Inner Work Inner work with anger involves several stages. The first appears so simple that it is often overlooked: the recognition that you are angry. This step requires regular self-examination, knowl-edge of the ways you may experience anger physically and psy-chologically, and alertness to how you customarily try to mask your anger. That regular self-examination is necessary only restates the obvious: if one does not look, one will not see. Knowing the variety of ways that people experience anger increases the odds that you will recognize it. Anger is, of course, an emotion that people experience directly, but it can also be uncovered in behaviors, thoughts, verbalizations, and bodily reac-tions. Individuals will have characteristic ways in which their anger is masked, expressed indirectly, or expressed passively. Becoming aware of these patterns of human response, you will more likely recognize your own anger under such guises as logi-cal argument, social withdrawal, passive resistance, depressed mood, and spiritualization. If you do not recognize your anger, it cannot be channeled or transformed. Anger that is not experienced or expressed directly is not easily unmasked. Gruff exteriors can hide from the indi-viduals themselves an anger that is obvious to everyone else; so can a smile, and so can solicitousness. For you to relate to such a "shy" anger within yourself may be compared to relating to some-one who is reluctant to come forward. The unmasking must not be done forcefully, or hurtfully. Imagineextending your hand to the anger within, with reassurance that there is no need to hide. In this invitation the anger is reassured that it is seen as a legiti-mate emotion with a reason for being which is important for you to understand. Review fi~r Religious The simple power of recognizing your anger (we might call it awareness) lies in the fact that merely paying it attention changes the anger at once. This phenomenon, the power of simple obser-vation to transform what it observes, is well recognized, not only in behavioral but even in physical science. It can be found in var-ious forms also in our spiritual tradition. From earlier teachers we know the concept that to hold the true name of anything or any-one is to have power over it. We learn that the desert fathers and mothers taught their spiritual children first to name their demons.St. Teresa of Avila taught us that, if anything is embraced in love, it already begins to be transformed. To be true to this way of proceeding, we must remind ourselves that the power does not lie in trying to manipulate or control the anger. In each case, as in the example of dealing with "shy" anger, there is an encounter with the anger. Encounter implies relationship, interaction, and the potential for mutual change: the anger also has something to say. The second stage of inner work with anger may be described as bringing the anger inside yourself. Unpacking that metaphor is not easy; not all of its meaning will be captured in any one exposition. It is already evident that the first and second stages are diametrically opposed to what is often a reflexive response to strong, unwanted anger--trying to get rid of it. We turn to a familiar fairy tale to shed more light on the power of bringing the anger inside. Recall the story of "The Three Little Pigs." Imagine being one of the little pigs barricaded in the last house, the one made of brick. Anger at first may seem like,the big bad wolf howling menacingly outside the door. You shake within, behind the barred door and locked windows. To be exposed to such a monster would be certain death. If matters continue in this way, there can be no happy end-ing-- at best there is stalemate. You know the pigs' solution, and in a way it is related to what we will suggest. But let us modify it in the interest of love and mutual growth. In a feat reserved for imagery, imagine yourself inviting that wolf in. Already, simply to enter the house, the big wolf must become small, at least small Inner work is an active and engaging process of coming to terms with both the immediate stimulus for the anger and its deeper sources within. JanuaJ3,-FebJvtal3, 1997 D_.~ckro~ Kukor~ and Meier * Inner Work with Your Anger enough to fit through the very same door which you use. From that time the wolf already becomes more your equal; the bad wolf becomes your guest. Your fear calms down to prudent caution. Anger, upon being brought inside, begins the dialogue, furthers mutual understanding, and allows you to listen to the message-- which apparently some part of you thought was important enough to arouse such a furor. The third stage consists of continuing your association with the anger. This is the dialogue, and the very heart of inner work with anger. Although associating with your anger must of neces-sity be a free-flowing process, with content unique to yourself, it is useful to consider the general material you might encounter. The material of association might be divided into old and current issues. Old issues are the recurrent themes that come up again and again in anyone's life. Much of the message of any intense "negative" emotion has to do with these recurring themes. A popular way of conceptualizing this idea has been called the 90/10 rule. It suggests that, in understanding the message of strong feeling, very little (10 percent) has to do with what seems to be obvious, the matter on which you are focused. The greater part (90 percent) arises from old issues that have been reawak-ened by the current circumstances. Imagine a detonator: a small and harmless charge sets off a much larger and destructive explo-sion, a cache of dynamite for example. Obviously, the great positive potential in associating with the anger is in learning to listen for the old issues which come up in the process. These old issues influence your perception as perva-sively as a pair of colored glasses affects your view of the world around. They color your interpretations and lead to a type of conditioned reality. You actually see what you expect to see. Unrecognized old issues lead to compulsive or addictive cycles of behavior. You perceive each new situation through lenses that transform it into an old familiar one. In turn, you bring up and apply old familiar responses to these new situations. Outcomes become more and more predictable. Imagine a traveling theater troupe picking up extra actors in each town. The players are dif-ferent, but the plots are always the same. With anger, bitterness, or resentment, there is a kind of cold comfort in having been right about the advent of unpleasant realities (while you conve-niently forget that often it is you who make them unpleasant). Such victories are P))rrhic, Finding the results familiar becomes Review for Religious for you (however unconsciously) more desirable than finding--or trying to make--the current reality pleasant. The rigid shape of such compulsive behavior is evident. To emphasize the importance of old issues is not to say that current issues are unimportant. On the contrary, as you recog-nize the anger, calm the anxiety, and listen for old issues, the cur-rent issues become more distinguishable and more manageable. The solutions that present themselves are likely to be effective for being rooted in your actual current situation instead of being autonomous repetitions of previous experiences. When you see current issues clearly, you under-stand them in terms of relationship rather than as someone else's problem affecting you. You see a problem as relational, a matter between or among the several concerned parties rather than in one or another person. Common sources of anger in the present include threats to self-esteem, feeling vulnerable, being cheated, receiv~ ing dishonest or indirect communication. When these problems are freed from the heavy bag-gage of the old, recurring themes, their substance remains but they become much lighter to carry. Consider, for example, a threat to self-esteem. A colleague is given attention for her successes. It seems to you that some of her ideas carrie from' conversations in which you played a part. There is resentment that she is in the spotlight and fear that no one will look to you for ideas in the future. The most power-ful factors in your emotional response to the situation lie in your previous experiences. If you have felt unappreciated, if you have been afraid to speak before others, if you have learned to feel that others do not take you seriously, if you have learned to deeply doubt your own value or your ability to succeed, you will feel burning anger at your dubiously accurate perception of a threat to your livelihood and reputation. If you are not good at pro-cessing and expressing anger, you will carry it as a tortuous con-flict within you, eating at body and mind, blocking the flow of spirit. On the other hand, if you can recognize the old issues for what they are, can avoid disparaging yourself for holding them, and then begin dealing with them directly, you will find within The great positive potential in associating with the anger is in learning to listen for the old issues which come up in the process. dO dTtttltta13,-Febrtttlty 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger yourself the energy for doing so. You will assess more clearly how serious the immediate threat is. From that assessment you can gauge the strength of the confrontation and discussion you must have with your colleague. If you are not.skilled at assertive expres-sion, you may determine a course of action to improve such skills. The problem is resolvable. The actual method of associating with your anger requires some elaboration. An essential component is to calm yourself down. The failure to calm down, especially to calm down your cognitive activity, heightens the risk of repeating a version of the old issues that tend to inflate your angry response. Physiological calming facilitates cognitive calming, and both allow the pro-duction of fresh associations. It is important to distinguish this type of calming from sup-pressing the anger or avoiding the current issues. The idea is not to become suddenly and inexplicably blissful. The aim is simply to be present to the anger--bringing it in, seeing it for what it is, and sorting out the old issues that are inflaming it. The most effective way to calm down is simply to become aware of your breathing and then to breathe gradually more slowly and deeply, and from the diaphragm. No particular rate or pro-portion of breathing is necessary, but it is often helpful to allow each exhalation to proceed slowly, like a slow leak from a tire. With each long exhalation your heart rate will be slower, and you will feel more and more relaxed. Let yourself move as necessary to remain physically comfortable, and do not be afraid to take a big ungainly breath if you get out of rhythm; just come back to the slow, diaphragmatic breathing as soon as possible thereafter. The overall goal is a sense of effortlessness in the breathing, letting the tension and the struggle to control melt away, but feeling all the sensations of the body with even greater awareness. Focus then on the parts of the body that seem most active. You will find in these places the physical correlates of your anger, As you interact in this way with your physical sensations, move to the emotion underlying them. Remaining relaxed, let yourself feel the anger more fully, either directly as emotion or in its phys-ical manifestations. Now that it is allowed to enter within your relaxed self, it will no longer be overpowering as you contemplate it. Call it by name with your inner voice, softly and repeatedly. As you do so, remain calmly aware and allow your mind to produce the next thought, feeling, image, or memory. Accept that next Review for Religious association without judgment, and then focus on it. Continue the process in just this way until you reach an association that seems new and striking a.nd that requires more time. Stay with it for a 16nger time, just holding it in mind. Other thoughts and feelings will weave themselves around it. If you find yourself excessively dis-tracted, try writing.down your thoughts, feelings, or sensations, associating further with each one as you write. In this process of free association, you are opening doors within you. Areas which have been blocked off by shame or will-fulness may become accessible. Some of these areas may be unpleasant, exposing feelings that are painful. These you must bring to spiritual direction, prayer, intimate friends, or psy-chotherapy for support in working through them to new life. In the course of such work, you move toward oneness within; this is the essence of the integrity you seek. You see yourself more hon-estly and clearly, and you see also what is being touched within you. What you must do becomes more clear. The last stage is taking the anger to relationships.° Although our focus in this essay has been on inner work, this inner work leads to interpersonal interaction. It is in the movement from intrapersonal exploration to the interpersonal resolution of anger that we avoid individualism and act for justice and peace in our personal worlds. These personal worlds, in any particular life or set of circumstances, may range from the grand scale of interna-tional diplomacy to the intimate relationship of two persons. This inner work, then, is not an alternative to external work, but is the basis from which to move toward others. In inner work we take time to explore thoroughly .the nature of our own anger, with-holding action until we have taken the beam from our own eye. Upon so doing, when we do act we are much less likely to return evil for evil. We are more likely to be able to collaborate with God in turning all things to the good, for ourselves and others. Relational Responses In discussing this stage in which we take the anger to rela-tionship, it is useful to highlight the basic choices with which we are faced. Our choices determine whether and how much our response will further a relationship. In coming to terms with any strong "negative" emotion, we are faced with such choices, lead-ing to greater or lesser connection with others. Januaty-Febtvlaty 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger The mutuality required for integration rests ultimately on dialogue, people expressing their own feelings and desires and listening to one another. Y2 At its worst, anger polarizes. The participants separate into factions whose interests seem mutually opposed. Anger so expe-rienced leads to stronger or longer-lasting feelings of hatred and resentment, and to behaviors aimed at the injury or destruction bf the other parties. We easily see such hot or cold wars on the broad and somewhat anonymous levels of local, national, and interna-tional politics; they occur just as often, however, on the smaller stages of our personal and professional lives. Somewhat more benign, but still only minimally relational, is what we might call parallel play. In this live-and-let-live stance, there is no intention to hurt the other parties, but neither is there much sense of the common or universal good, and there is no intimate interaction. Farther along the continuum, we can indicate a point of compromise. This term is unfortunately not held in high esteem. What some people see as a reasonable compromise, many others see as "giving in," collaborating with evil; in fact, they see the compromiser as "compromised"-- or, at best, wishy-washy. However, com-promise (literally: putting forth, together) can be actually a high-level response with the potential for build-ing a better relationship out of previous anger and conflict. The partners in conflict become sensitive to each other's agendas and to opportunities for their mutual benefit in a common good. The arrangement might be unsteady, but continued dialogue in this spirit leads to change, however slow it might seem to those who prefer war, personal or otherwise, as a means of change. On any given day, compromise may be all the relationality we can muster. Nevertheless, its regular practice can move us along toward the point of integration. It is in the honest integra-tion of apparent opposites that we most fully participate in ongo-ing creation. Both compromise and integration must be and remain, opposed to syncretism, in which each side is reduced to being a lesser entity than it was. Integration requires the full pres-ence of both parties, each maintaining--and even realizing more fully--its own identity, but also coming together to form, from an Review Jbr Religious appreciation of their essential unifies and commonalities of inter-est, a new whole never before experienced. To accomplish such a union requires freshness of experience: two persons seeing each other as if for the first time. Obviously, the ideal is challenging and not easily reached. It is best to consider it a process that incor-porates the letting-go of egoism, that sense of self which empha-sizes self-protection and personal rights at the expense of openness and intimacy. It is analogous to the process of inculturation in evangelization presented by Pope John Paul II and articulated eloquently in the documents of General Congregation 34 of the Society of Jesus. The mutuality required for integration rests ulti-mately on dialogue, people expressing their own feelings and desires and listening to one another. Words are a poor medium to express such matters, but they are often the best means we have. In love, they are enough. At this level of relationship, anger has been transformed. It is now not merely a difficult emotion to be managed, but an impetus to new creation. Of such dialogue--two or more persons allowing their center of focus to be between or among themselves rather than within any one of them--it may truly be said that the reign of God is there. Forgiveness and reconciliation are experienced in a fresh way. Old hurts are not forgotten, but now are embodied in the new whole. They are used to create a new way of understanding which, rather than suppressing them, coopts them for the good. Taking care of oneself is redefined, as self has been redefined, beyond the limits of the corporeal body and one's personal psy-chological history. The well-being of any other person comes grad-ually to be seen as vitally important to one's own self. The Contemplative Stance This coming together in integration is certainly not without much pain and difficulty. More often than not, it seems that the creation of a new whole from disparate positions is impossible. Nevertheless, it is this apparent impossibility that in fact calls us to a new something. There is a tradition, among shamans of so-called primitive religions, that iust such apparently impossible situations signal, often in a sacred dream, the opportunity to advance to a new level of spiritual understanding. In our Christian tradition we may understand this new creation as furthering cor-poral realization of the mystical body of Christ. .~mlttaly-Febrttal3, 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier o" Inner Work with Your Anger A contemplative stance in life facilitates the recognition and acceptance of opportunities' for integration as we work through strong feelings of anger. Such a contemplative stance does not imply or require a cloistered vocation; it is simply a willingness to become ever more aware of what is happening within us and around us. It is furthered by the practice of certain disciplines such as frequent self-examination, centering prayer, and medita-tive relaxation. An image passed on by Suzanne Zuercher OSB expresses the nature of being contemplative very well. Imagine holding a bird in your cupped hands. Hold it too tightly and the bird will be crushed; too loosely and the bird flies away. So it is to be present to ourselves and others. In such contemplation God, divine Mystery, is found truly in all things. All the events of life, without exception, are material for the spiritual journey. There is no need to avoid or suppress dis-tractions or strong emotions; there is only the call to work with them honestly. An ideal, of course, is a distant marker. As with ship and lighthouse, we hope not so much to find ourselves there as to be guided by its light. In the end the stuff of our growth is not found in our perfection, but in our flaws. Stumbling blocks become stepping stones, fissures become our footholds. Honest reflecting on the disruptive emotions that rise unbidden in us, and on our failures in handling them for the good, keep us rooted humbly in the truth of our lives. This truth, however unlovely it may seem, is the sure and only foundation for realizing the power of God working in us, From there we move closer to joy and compassion, holy indiffer-ence and equanimity, and become people for others. We find love. Review for Religious DENISE M. CALLAGHAN On Letting Go l~aan still see you sitting across the room from me, the light of e lamp highlighting your silver hair, your blue eyes still filled with life. You talked of how they were "putting you out," try-ing to get you to come to the motherhouse infirmary. And the best reason they could give you? They were worried about you because you seemed to be forgetful. You were not buying that, you told me. You kept insisting that you knew what you were doing, that you were not forgetful or careless about little matters of safety. I tried to suggest that there could be episodes you were not aware of. If you had been aware, there would be no prob-lem- but not being aware that you were not aware could be seri-ous. I was not just playing with words. I tried to give you examples. I tried to ease your dread of being uprooted. I hope I helped just a little, anyway. I thought of you often after you left. I found myself praying that you would be able to let go. So much of life is a matter of let-ting go. None of us does it lightly or easily. We are clingers by nature, I think. Even as infants we fasten our fingers around lit-tle baubles and hold on with surprising strength. Paul talks about that in some of his Epistles. "When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child . . ." (1 Co 13:11). I think (can we really remember it all now?) that it was not always easy to put aside the things of the child and become the responsible adult. Somehow, however awk-wardly, we did it. Sometimes it is not all pain--if the letting go of the old, famil-iar some thing, or some place, or some one means the reaching out Denise M. Callaghan SSND writes to us from 6401 North Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21212. 1997 Callagban ¯ On Letting Go What a beautiful gift we offer one another when we truly listen! Y6 to some one new, or some place new, or some thing new that sat-isfies and delights us. But there are those letting go's that are just that: all pain. There is no exchange; there is an emptying out, a hollowing out, a hurt, a loneliness, a void. Some of us literally break under the strain of it. Some of us do not break, but we become bitter and withdrawn. Some of us bluff our way through or somehow just bury the ache. Some of us, quietly and with great wisdom, simply let go--and then go on. What a great grace! No matter who we are, no matter how well we do what we do, we will all need from time to time to be able to let go: ¯ the older for the younger, ¯ the familiar for the new and the different, ¯ the surety of the tried and the true for the promise of the untried and the possible, ¯ the mellowed for the freshly cured, ¯ the wisdom of experience for the vision and the dream of the not-yet-chanced. It cannot be done lightly, nor should it be. Wisdom cautions weighing and measuring, reflectively letting go, effectively hold-ing on. We need to pray that the Spirit of wis-dom will inform us. We need to be attentive listeners to the movement of the Spirit in our own hearts and to trust that message. We also need to pray to be good listeners one to another. No one of us is so informed that our own judgment is always best. So we listen and weigh our view again, in light of someone else's wisdom and insight, There is a courtesy we owe one another, and a respect, and an esteem. We listen to each other, not dismissing the line of rea-soning, but attentively pondering it. What a beautiful gift we offer one another when we truly lis-ten! It is rare that we really do this. It can be singularly painful to someone when we do not do it, as when one who over a span of years has been looked up to as wise and judicious, insightful and intuitive, now senses that her views are being suddenly and sum-marily dismissed by younger members of the community. The real pain here is the feeling she has, upon seeing her remarks mentally brushed aside or not even fairly listened to, that she her-self is being discarded. This kind of not listening can go the other way, too. Someone Review for Religious young and presumably inexperienced touches deftly and wisely the very core of the issue and is merely smiled at as though youth's inexperience cannot possibly know anything that is truly perti-nent and helpful. All of us, of course, are painfully aware that most wisdom seems to come only by hindsight. Wisely did St. Augustine pray often for the grace of a "listening heart." We do indeed have to try our best to speak truth as we perceive it. Beyond that, we need the grace to be able to let go and try to pick up the truth in the words of others. Sometimes the need to let go can concern only myself: ¯ the death of a loved'one when I cannot even imagine living my life apart from that person, ¯ the loss of a friend in some painful misunderstanding that somehow cannot seem to be remedied, ¯ the diminishment and inability brought on by serious illness or aging, ¯ the hurt when politics decides who gets the promotion or the credit or the acclaim. One other demand on us individually from time to time will be the letting go of memories. We need never let go of the very heartening memories that enrich us and that are among our most precious treasures. We thank God over and over for those times, those persons, those events that set our hearts to singing at their every recall. But we do need to let go, with God's help, when the memory is painful and the whole episode shouts of injustice or rash judgments or false accusations or just plain dislike. It is right to try to remedy the wrong, particularly if it is done to someone else. Jesus asks each of us to be a speaker of truth. But when every effort fails and every avenue of remedy is sealed off, we need sim-ply to let go and to go on. It is not easy. Yet holding on and nurs-ing the grudge can be utterly destructive. We give the victory to the demon of darkness and we hurt God's cause. Ther

Issue 55.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1996. ; lived experience of all who find that the churcfl's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are :meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP St. Bernadetie Convent ° 76 University Blvd. East ° Silver Spring, MI) 20901 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ I)uluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1996 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy an}, ~naterial (articles, poe,ns, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyrigh~ Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH/APRIL 1996 * VOLUME55 ¯ NUMBER2 contents 118 symposium - part I Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal: Will Good Intentions Suffice? Miriam Ukeritis CSJ provides some examples of actions taken by various religious congregations in their renewal and makes some evaluative reflections. 133 143 seeking God The Urban Hermit: Monastic Life in the City Theresa Mancuso describes the life of an urban hermit as integrating the contemplative life of the poustinia with the marketplace where a living is earned. Enclosed in the Mystery of Jesus Marie Beha OSC explores various aspects of enclosure as part of the Christian mystery into which we all are invited. Review for Religious 159 171 growing old Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging Daniel J. Harrington SJ offers reflections on a few biblical texts which contribute to constructing a theology and spirituality for us as we grow old as people of Christian faith. On Selling the Chalices: Vincent de Paul on Aging Robert P. Maloney CM shares the insights and feelings of Vincent de Paul in response to the process of aging. 185 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1995 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv and Eduardo C. Fern~indez SJ present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 116 Prisms 204 Canonical Counsel: Authority in Ingtitutes of Consecrated Life 209 Book Reviews March-April 1996 prisms Boundaries are a part of life. We think of how boundaries identify our countries and our states, our soccer fields and our tennis courts. Behavior to be proper and humor to be appreciated observe boundaries. There are time boundaries for speeches to be effective and financial limits for buying and selling. Sometimes we see boundaries through a negative fil-ter. We talk about how we do not want to feel bound in any way since that would close off possible opportunities for ourselves. Boundaries., we say, are restrictions on our human potential and freedom. Yet as a counterpoint we also experience that when cancer breaks down boundaries and has metastasized, life becomes diminished and threat-ened. So too, when people do not acknowledge certain boundaries to their own stamina, they can have a break-down or become sick. Although sometimes appearing to us to be restrictive, boundaries, then, can be appreciated in a life system for the part they play in maintaining good health and vibrant life. Witness the negative results when we humans do not observe boundaries in our polluting of streams and oceans, in our poisoning the atmosphere through chemical emissions, and in our destroying world weather patterns through the deforesting in the Amazon basin. Sometimes people, including women and men reli-gious, view religious life through the filter of boundaries which restrict. Whether it be the observance of the tra-ditional evangelical counsels of chastity, pove(ty, and obe-dience, the acceptance of a life in common, or the practice of enclosure, religious life has always had boundaries. But Review for Religious through an ecological perspective-- that ,is, religious life identi-fied as a life system--we can come to a fresh appreciation of the vital quality of the boundaries we find in it. T6day when membership inclusion for many religious con-gregations seems to eliminate all boundaries, we could ask our-selves whether in a life-system model this movement is going towards health. When there are no boundaries to the kinds of ministries taken on by members of a congregation and no bound-aries to what constitutes a life together, we might wonder whether a deadly cancer may likely enough be coursing through a life sys-tem. Since w~ are so conscious today of environmental and eco-logical concerns with a scientific realism never before possible, we need to apply a similar kind of care to religious life identified as an ecological system. Then our acceptance of certain boundaries will be situated within the .context of health and vitality. Our authors in this issue talk in one: way or another about boundaries. Evangelical counsels, community life, and the enclo-sure associated with contemplative life are all boundaries--bound-aries connected with a furtherance of life. Aging, tog, is a boundary~difficult to face for active, service-oriented people--but aging is seen by faith as another stage in our growing in Christ. Yet doubts, even so, assail us: How can the restrictions of aging, a kind of final boundary of human life, be seen as a growing? The church observance of the Lenten and Easter seasons invites us always to contemplate the growth potential of all the boundaries of human life portrayed in Jesus' paschal mystery. Jesus makes even death no longer a limitation but a boundary that issues into life. We see that Jesus does not take away the boundary of death, but rather allows it--in daily actions and in our final human act--to become the key to our entering into his own paschal mystery, culminating in new and surprising life. Our desire to identify with this paschal mystery as a way of daily living leads us to view all boundaries through the perspective of the risen Jesus. Boundaries, it seems, bring home to us how much we find life as Easter people. David L. Fleming SJ Marcb-April 1996 MIRIAM D. UKERITIS Religious Life'.s Ongoing Renewal: Will Good Intentions Suffice? symposium part Since the publication of the FORUS study, several con-gregations have taken the time to assess their efforts at renewal and plan seriously for their futures.1 This article reviews some of these efforts and identifies areas that con-tinue to require attention. Background Thirty years ago the Decree on the Adaptation and Renewal of the Religious Life (Perfectae caritatis, 1965) urged a process of renewal that would include returning constantly both to the sources of all Christian life and to the original spirit of one's institute and 'also adapting to the changed conditions of our time (PC §2). The council fathers said that the manner of living, praying, and work-ing should everywhere--especially in mission territories-- be suitably adapted to the modern physical and psychological circumstances of the members and also, as required by the nature of each institute, to the necessi-ties of the apostolate and to cultural, social, and economic Miriam Ukeritis csJ collaborated with David Nygren CM in producing the study "The Future of Religious Orders in the United States" (FORUS). The current article is one of four preo ¯ sentations made at an October 1995 symposium, "Religious Life 30 Years Later: Is This What Vatican II Intended?" held at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in Wernersville, Pennsylvania. Correspondence with Miriam Ukeritis should be addressed: De Paul University;' Center for Applied Social Research; 2219 North Kenmore Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60614. Review.[br Religious demands (§3). Considering the various interpretations of this mandate and the various implementations and results, there can be little wonder that this symposium commemorating Perfectae caritatis is subtitled, "Is This What Vatican II Intended?-2 This question of the council's intent was not a new one. Echoes of such wonderment were heard almost as soon as the period of experimentation began. Many books and articles have appeared, reflecting on the themes of renewing, reweaving, refounding, reclaiming, restructuring, reshaping, rekindling, reen-ergizing, and recreating religious life. Simultaneously, many signs of decline and diminishment have marked the landscape of reli-gious orders in the United States. As early as 1988, in an effort to address this issue, Lilly Endowment funded a three-year study to investigate these phenomena. The researchers, themselves mem-bers of religious orders and trained in the field of psychology, made public their findings in The Future of Religious Orders in the United States (FORUS) report. Almost immediately after its release in mid September 1992, headlines in the secular press proclaimed that "Catholic orders need dramatic change to survive" (New York Times 9/20/92), "Catholic orders shunning poor" (Chicago Tribune 9/16/92), "Roman Catholic orders in decline" (Washington Post 9/26/92), "Study sees Catholic orders losing their way" (Boston Globe 9/16/92), and "Religious orders dying out; hospitals, schools may suffer" (Sunday Denver Post 9/27/92). These reports roused both the interest and the ire of many. Some thought the study an accurate reflection of the state of religious life twenty-five years after Vatican Council II, while others saw it as an unnecessarily negative assessment of religious life's efforts at renewal. In light of the controversy surrounding the establish-ment of the Council of Major Superiors of Women Religious only a few months before the publication of the FORUS findings, this sensitivity, particularly among apostolic women religious, is quite understandable. Too, the Leadership Conference of Women Religious had recently completed Threads for the Loom, its study of membership, some of whose results seemed to be contradicted by the FORUS findings.3 As serious scholars of religion and members-at-large of reli-gious orders pursued a more thorough reading of the results, and as others' reactions and interpretations began to appear in Catholic periodicals and internal newsletters, consensus emerged concerning the significance of the FORUS study.4 One of the most helpful ele- March-April 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal ments of the report was the summary chart, of factors shaping the future of religious life (Figure 1). This chart listed results of the study in a manner that provided agendas for many congregations, chapters, formation conferences, and planning endeavors. For that reason and because of its summary nature, this paper will refer to it in reflecting on how congregations have tried to integrate the research findings into their ongoing efforts at renewal. The diagram takes the form of a force field, a construct com-mon to social scientists. The center oval represents the current state while that on the far right depicts the desired future state. In this project it was defined as "Fidelity .to Purpose and Responsiveness to Absolute Human Need." "Restraining Forces" (left column of arrows) identifies factors which, if not inhibited, will keep a group or system in its current state or cause further decline. "Driving Forces" (right column of arrows) describes fac-tors which, if fostered/will support the movemeht of the group or system to its desired future. In this study the driving forces are portrayed as influenced by conversion, a process necessary'to respond consistently and faithfully to the Spirit of God. Co-opta-tion by the dehumanizing aspects of society permeates the restrain-ing forces. Moving toward the desired future is accomplished by attending to the driving forces and withdrawing energy from those that restrain. Unfortunately, groups tend to do the opposite, endeavoring to root out of what is undesirable and neglecting to put energy into what will take them in the desired direction. Figure 1: Shaping the Future of Religious Life in the U.S. Shaping the Future of Religious Life in the US ~ Driving Forces CONVERSION i-TExcellent Lea~ U ¯ [~ iAuthority ~ N ~ ~Corporate Idenlity T T T ~IThe GOSp~ ~ Review for Religious Overview Since the publication of the FORUS findings, the researchers have frequently been asked: Is there a future for religious life? Invariably they have responded, "Yes, definitely--if you want one and are willing to work for it!" Members of religious orders have devoted much time and effort to reading, attending conferences, and discussing the meaning of renewal. Too often their attention has been directed toward outside experts. Borrowing from the author of Deuteronomy, many act as if the answer were up in the sky or across the sea and others had to be sent to retrieve and interpret it (see Dt 30:12- 14). While consultation and input may be beneficial, the congregation must realize that ultimately the scriptural response applies here; the answer sought is "very near., already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out." It is here, in the imagining and implementing, that the difficulty occurs: As in many other change efforts--be it mastering a language or shedding pounds--good intentions are not enough. Effort is required. Neither Neither the FORUS study nor the presentation of any one of the scholars of religious life provides a quick and simple how-to response to renewal questions. the FORUS study nor the presentation of any one of the scholars of religious life provides a quick and simple how-to response to renewal questions. The finding and carrying out of the answer to the question of how to shape a congregation's future is as unique as the congregation and entails hard work.5 To get results, an action plan must be coupled with concerted and sustained implementation. The plan must take into account the current state of the congregation, the hopds and dreams of its members, the reality of its resources, the constraints and supports which the ~xternal environment brings to bear, and the needs of God's people. Openness to the work of the Spirit, through con-stant prayer, dialogue, and a continuous reading of the signs of the times, is critical. Evaluation and correctiori, during the process and at the conclusion,~will help keep all involved honest about their efforts and effective in the accomplishment of the group's mission. It is unfortunate that some perceive an honest assessment of a congregation's efforts toward renewal as an indictment of the March-April 1996 Uke~tis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal work of previous leadership teams, chapters, or members-at-large. This is hardly so. With. the humble realization that the efforts of these often heroic women and men have brought a group to its current ability to be faithful to its purpose and to minister to God's people, it is only in a spirit of fidelity to the work begun by founders and foundresses, carried on through the decades by countless religious, and most recently updated by those who led initial efforts at renewal that any such critique is offered or may merit being initiated. As many have found, it is out of such love that a response of greater effort is often born. Review of Factors Among the ways that religious orders have used the findings of the FORUS study in their efforts at renewal, the most fre-quently cited areas have been "Individualism/Vocation" (in com-bination with "Role Clarity"), "Average/Excellent Leadership," and "Corporate Identity." The remainder of this reflection will consider these three areas one by one. After a brief discussion of the area, examples will be given of actions taken by some groups or congregations, and then some remaining questions will be examined. Individualism/Vocation Members of religious orders have not been alone in noting the negative consequences of exaggerated individualism. In the United States several commentaries have appeared lamenting what seemed to be an overemphasis on self and a loss of a sense of commu-nity. The work of Robert Bellah is probably the most familiar.6 Granted that a healthy sense of one's own personhood is a critical factor in one's development, it is no news that an overem-phasis on individual concerns can lead to a narcissistic self-absorp-tion. Admittedly, many of the practices and customs that marked religious life up to the time of the council could stifle the fragile sense of self that some brought their early training. Furthermore, for those who entered novitiates in late adolescence, when a per-son's developmental task is identity formation, the foreclosure of that process as they assumed the image of religious in their par-ticular institute left many aspects of these tasks incomplete and made the successful transition into mature adulthood difficult. Hence, the psychological climate in many groups tended to pro- Review for Religious duce individualism, with sentiments reflected in songs of the 1960s and 1970s such as "I Did It My Way" and "I Gotta Be Me." With the numbers of golden and diamond jubilarians far sur-passing the number of silver jubilarians in recent years, questions like "Why religious life?" and "What does it mean to be a reli-gious?" are increasingly relevant to a generation whose develop-mental task is now generativity. Hence, it is hardly surprising that the notion of "call"--particularly, "to or for what?"--is a frequent topic of conversation. (Patricia Wittberg SC reflects, in her writ-ing, on some of the elements involved in responding to a call or commitment, notably, sacrifice, common rituals and traditions, and a sense of boundaries.)7 These conversations may be fright-ening to some insofar as they seem to hark back to former prac-tices that long .ago lost their meaning. In times of transition, as the FORUS report noted, it can be particularly enticing to revert to old ways of being and doing. The challenge for religious today is to put creative energies into finding new ways:--and, in this case, identifying what the distinctive elements of the call to religious life are and how they are to be lived. One of these areas of energy is to be found in the realistic examination many congregations are conducting in the matter of associate programs. Involving laypersons in the congregation's spiritual or ministerial activities has a long history for many groups. Others have adopted it more recently as a means of wel-coming those who share in the charism of the group. Thanks to the work of RosemaryJeffries and others, there is increasing clar-ity as to how individuals who are members of associate commu-nities do and do not relate with vowed members of the congregation,s Appropriate boundaries, the meaning of mem-bership, and modes of belonging are increasingly common topics at formal convenings of religious and around the kitchen table. Such discussions serve to enhance an understanding of vocation in today's world. As a separate but related concern, the FORUS study cited role clarity as a significant issue for members of religious orders, par-ticularly women. There is abundant evidence that religious are struggling to address this. The energy displayed in this country as the Lineamenta document circulated before the 1994 Synod on Religious Life was striking. Intended or not, this event provided an excellent public forum for conversations concerning the role of religious. There can be no doubt tha't religious in the United ~qarcb-Aptql 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongo.ing Renewal States are directing their attention to self-definition rather than looking to outside bodies to provide the answer to the question "What does it mean to be a religious in the church today?" In general, it is encouraging to hear religious focused increas-ingly on the accomplishment of the mission of Jesus as expressed through their charism. While the funding of retirement contin-ues to be a concern in the face of dwindling material resources, the new energies that congregations have been devoting to ministries that address critical needs, to realistic ways of supporting new members, and to clarifying the meaning of membership are all signs of movement in the direction of a vital future.9 In reflecting on issues related to vocation, the meaning of membership in a community remains to be examined. Old ways of belonging (common ministry, common schedule, many restric-tions on external involvements) no longer seem functional, but what are the new ways to determine what being a member of a community means? The 1994 Synod .on Religious Life acknowl-edged that community does not necessarily involve the members' living together. Today, however, it is often easier to state what community is not than to describe what it is. Resistance encoun-tered in attempts to describe what it is may relate~to the reality that any definition will place demands or limits on those who choose to belong. The pull of individualism continues to be strong. There must be continuing efforts to grapple seriously with what vocation means to individuals and what its lived expres-sion should include. Undoubtedly, the lived expression of com-munity will take different forms in different groups. Average/Excellent Leadership Members of religious orders are not alone in expressing great interest in leadership and the development of leaders. Officers of major funding groups and administrators of sponsored institu-tions have, in conversations, voiced serious concern about the ability of religious to provide the leadership required to direct the efforts of religious organizations in an increasingly complex world. The absence of plans to address this concern, even after its identification, is even more alarming. Finally, the fact that the pool of religious from which to select and train leaders is dwin-dling adds to the urgency of this consideration. The search for opportunities for leadership training, based on a set of competencies demonstrated to be critical for religious Review for Rel(glous leadership, continues, Unfortunately but typically, this se~irch starts only after individuals or teams have already been selected for their position. Few congregations are at the point of developing a systematic means of providing their members with leadership training. This is complicated further by the fact that the cost of such programs may be or appear to be beyond the financial means of some congregations. One group reported dif-ficulty in finding a total of $1000 for three days of training for a five-member team. Yet, in the world of professional development, this sum is not an atypical cost for one individual to partic-ipate in a weekend program. Efforts to address seriously the leadership issues within congregations have taken many forms. One group devised a three-year series of four-day leadership-skills workshops. All mem-bers under a certain age were expected to par-ticipate in one cycle. The content of these sessions was basic, ranging from how to run a meeting to how to read a balance sheet. It included segments dealing with human-resource issues such as recruiting, hiring, supervising, and firing staff and managing volunteers as well. This not only provided busy people the opportunity to become acquainted with basics of leadership, but also assisted the congregation in identifying its members' var-ied gifts. It had the side effect of enabling participants to interact with one another in ways they might not otherwise experience and served as a means of encouraging some members who might be hesitant or reluctant to see themselves in positions of leader-ship to pursue additional education. Clearly, this congregation is providing for its own future leadership needs, for at some future time some members of this group will surely find themselves in positions of community leadership. The leadership group of another congregation instituted a mid-term evaluation of their ministry as leaders. Having developed at the beginning of their term a ministry plan for their four years in office, they conducted the evaluation at the end of their second year. Results of this effort provided information concerning where and how they might refocus their efforts, alter their strategy, or enhance communication on critical issues. It also gave them a sense of affirmation regarding work well done. Few congregations are at the point of developing a systematic means of providing their members with leadership training. March-April 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal Corporate identity provides an answer to the question "What is this group known for ?" The constant challenge, along with the gentle shift that is occurring with congregational leadership, manifests itself in the willingness of members to allow leaders to exercise their leader-ship skills. Given that many members are steeped, perhaps uncon-sciously, in a culture of individualism, it can be difficult to attend to the call of a leader or leadership group and to channel one's energy in a direction set by others, especially when it is not one that the member would choose. The good news is that capable leaders have learned much about the when and how of man-aging consensus. Paralysis resulting from rigid adherence to consensus processes is less fre-quent. Some of this is true because outstanding leaders have learned to listen to their members. They read the pulse of the community, under-stand what is said between the lines, and attend to the climate of the group. By doing this they are able to gauge thetiming of a program or intervention, frame it in a manner that enables members to receive it, and reframe it when resistance seems likely to thwart the outcome. The leader-ship of a large congregation encountered such resistance after announcing for the coming year a reflection process on the group's previously identified focus. The chapter's response was loud and clear: resistance, based on the complaint that the congregation's members had not been consulted before the announcement. Rather than insist on its prerogative to lead by setting the agenda for implementing congregational goals, the team responded by acknowledging the concern. In the face of time constraints and at the cost of additional effort willingly contributed by the team members, they amended the plan to include a consultation with the members. In the final analysis, the project ran almost exactly as initially presented--with the addition of the consultation step that ensured the success of the effort. The community experi-enced a year-long dialogue that resulted in deeper self-under-standing and greater commitment to the group's focus. It is not only within congregations that outstanding leaders exercise their ministry. Groups of leaders have joined together to influence not only the church and religious life but also soci-ety at large. One regional group has chosen to confront media use of negative stereotypes in portraying religious. They are deter- Review for Religious mined to educate local media personnel about the positive reali-ties of religious life. Calls by leadership for prayer and fasting are increasingly common and are taken seriously by members. A leadership team formally called its members to prayer and fasting on a set day each week as a means of discerning and seeking openness to the call of the Spirit regarding the future of their congregation. In terms of the questions remaining, the growing number and the growing complexity of contemporary needs appear to out-strip religious orders' ability to develop the leadership skills and organize themselves enough to address these needs. For some individuals, relinquishing both the satisfactions and the pains of direct apostolates in order to develop and use leadership skills to achieve systemic and organizational change may be the form of a new asceticism, For others, learning how to be effective board members of congregational and external institutions may be the way to exercise leadership. The critical issues outlined in the introduction to this section remain. They are summarized best in the question concerning the willingness and the ability of reli-gious congregations to provide leadership not only for themselves but also for the institutions they sponsor and the ministries in which they are involved. Corporate ldentity Of all the driving forces identified in the FORUS study, cor-porate identity was perhaps the most misunderstood. It does not imply a congregation's insistence on one type of ministry or one site at which all would live and work. Corporate identity is, rather, a common focus for the life of the ~roup. In a sense, corporate identity provides an answer to the question "What is this group known for?" Corporate. identity is not identical with charism, but flows" from charism. It is the manner in which a religious con-gregation, being faithful to its founding purpose, attempts to focus its many resources to respond to today's most pressing human needs. As avenues of ministry expanded after the council, it became increasingly common for members to be involved in any of the works in which a professional might be engaged. These ministe-rial moves--often in the form of entrepreneurial enterprises-- reflected the zeal of the members as they sought new ways to minister in today's world while simultaneously using both their March-April 1996 Ukeritis * Religious Life's Ongoing Rene~val innate gifts and the skills they had developed. At other times the forces of individualism moved members to pursue areas of inter-est regardless of the connection of their work with the congre-gation's mission. In both cases, this resulted in the dispersion of religious women and men. Religious came to be identified more and more as individual ministers, frequendy heroic in their efforts, frequently invisible as religious. The mutual relationship between the congregation and the individual member, particularly as related to the mission and ministry, was lost. Media reports that document the work of a religious priest, sister, or brother fre-quently fail to mention the member's congregation by name. Changes in the general population as regards violence, increased poverty, and widespread drug abuse--along with greater cultural diversity in the United States--have forced religious to rethink the locus and mode of their ministerial involvements. Increased complexity resulting from globalization and new tech-nologies has heightened the challenge. The overwhelming demand for new understandings and additional language skills, coupled with the shift in the ability of religious to respond .enthusiasti-cally with bodily presence to many of these situations, demands serious examination of how resources are used and immense cre-ativity in crafting responses. Many able leaders of congregations recognized their mem-bers' need for a focal point of congregational energies. Such a requirement is basic to the dynamics of any functioning group: all the more so for a group of individuals who have professed a life commitment in a religious congregation. In most cases these loci began as small endeavors. In some instances initial efforts seemed to fail, as in the case of one group's attempt to establish a shelter for adolescent girls. Examination of the situation and a willingness to admit shortcomings, learn from apparent .defeat, and directly address problem areas were critical in the. revitalization of that effort and its success today. A group with a long history of staffing private academies opted to replicate a successful project that another congregation had begun in the area. It took the form of a learning center for at-risk middle-school students in the inner city of a metropolitan area. The congregation took care to establish a focused sponsoring group as it missioned some members to initiate the work. This sponsoring group not only provided both the civic and religious communities with a sense of stability regarding the project, but Review for Religious also was a positive factor in securing funding and contributions from outside sources. For example, alumni/ae of other schools sponsored by the congregation (particularly schools that had been closed) found a type of kinship with the ministry. They were enthusiastic in their support of this new educational venture, which included a school, a pre- and after-school study center, summer camp experience, and a locus for parent education. In it they saw themselves forming a link with the next generation of those served by the very congregation that had given them an excellent education. As in the example described in the earlier FORUS report, sev-eral congregations--each one using a process that worked best for it--have selected an issue such as domestic violence, home-lessness, or ecological awareness as a focus for their corporate efforts. In such situations the members' activities range from let-ter writing to involving students or parishioners in direct-service projects. On a congregational scale, artists have pooled their tal-ents to create productions intended both to raise funds to sup-port the work and to raise consciousness about the issue. Members have encouraged their sponsored institutions to participate in walks to support the cause, again both to raise money and to make the public more aware of the issue. Congregations have pooled resources to provide salaries for state or regional advocacy. Once again, both direct action and efforts, at systemic change are crit-ical. As Amata Miller IHM noted in the video presentation that accompanied Threads for the Loom, one o~ the contributions that religious congregations can make is in their commitment to a geographic area. Few individuals are able to commit the twenty or more years required to make significant changes' in a neighbor-hood, but a religious congregation can make that commitment-- and ensure that change. For any group interested in addressing the question of cor-porate identity, several pitfalls remain. The. process requires, com-mitment from a core group. Obtaining a sense of the members--often in the face of great apathy--is key, for this pro-cess is aimed at group ownership of the. project. Congregations that have .experienced success in their efforts have' been willing to think small initially, to celebrate, the seemingly insignificant vic-tories, and to encourage their members to connect the focus with current ministerial efforts. In this process it will be a rare group that does not have members trying to define some issue so that it March-April 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal will encompass everything: ecology and AIDS and educational reform. No one would deny the significance of any of these issues. No one group, in this day, can focus simultaneously and effec-tively on all three. Corporate America provided us recently with this lesson when Anheuser-Busch and AT&T recognized publicly the need to define themselves more clearly in order to provide better service. In 1995 Busch announced its plans to divest itself of both the Eagle snack-foods division and its entertainment parks, and AT&T made public its plans to split into three companies, each focusing on a different service or product area. Admittedly, religious orders are not major for-profit corpo-rations. They do, however, stand to learn something from the world around them. Ultimately, of course, they must make sure that any such efforts of theirs are connected with the mission of Jesus, as expressed by the congregation and its charism. Without this spiritual connection, any such efforts would be a sort of fla-vor- of-the-month dilettantism. Conclusion As the reader may have noted, it is difficult to hold separate the three factors selected for review. Issues of individual mem-bership, and call (individualism/vocation), group identity (corpo-rate identity), and ways of enabling the group to accomplish its task (average/excellent leadership) do not exist in isolation from one another. Given the limits of human abilities, focus on one or another at a given time may be not only appropriate but necessary. Considering one area as the place to find "the answer," however, while ignoring the other areas of concern may lead. away from a successful resolution of a problem or to the ineffective imple-mentation of an intervention. As noted above, the hold of indi-vidualism may tend to block the best efforts of successful leaders. Ineffective leaders may not be able to make good use of a newly focused corporate identity. Clear corporate identity may enable individuals to determine the appropriateness of their member-ship in a given community. Unlike the Israelites who ultimately arrived at the Promised Land, it is not probable--and is very likely undesirable--that reli-gious life will attain the stability it seems to have experienced as late as the early 1960s.I° It is imperative, however, that members of religious orders address realistically the issues related to their Review for Religious viability and vitality)1 More than the ordinary members, religious who have been entrusted with greater responsibility for the charism of their congregation must strive to ensure that the gift given them for all of God's people is passed on. Admittedly, for some, this may entail suppression of an institute or evolution to some new form. Modeling death with dignity, in a Christian atmo-sphere of letting go, may prove to be a great lesson for a society inclined increasingly to resist surrender to the paschal-mystery cycle of life-death-resurrection. However, to fail to address the questions honesdy and work earnestly toward answers and imple-mentation might be a great infidelity to the ever present grace of God. To face all of this, We will need courage. We will need energy. We will need vision. We will need to be at ease with ourselves and our decisions. Above all, like the psalmist, we will need to keep our eyes fixed on the Lord, our God, until God lets us rest. And then we will know, as we have always known, that the effort was worth the gift of our lives, the best of our years, the length of our days.'z The title of this article reflecting on continuing efforts in the renewal of religious life 'contains the question "Will Good Intentions Suffice?" Hopefully, an answer key is not necessary to determine this author's response. Notes ~ See David Nygren CM and Miriam Ukeritis CSJ, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Tran~Cormation and Commitment (New York: Praeger, 1993). 2 The Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in Wernersville, Pennsylvania, with the cosponsorship of Review for Religious, hosted the 26-29 October 1995 symposium "Religious Life 30 Years Later: Is This What Vatican II Intended?" 3 Anne Munley IHM, Threads for the Loom: LCWR Planning and Ministry Studies (Silver Spring, Maryland: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1992). 4 For an executive summary of this project, see Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55, or Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992). See also n. 1 above. Marcb-Aptql 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal s While levels of energy and constraints of calendar are realities, a mantra-like refrain of "We're too tired!" or "We don't have time!" among members of religious orders would signal a host of issues more critical than age or schedules. 6 Bellah's works on this subject, each with several other authors, include Habits of the Heart (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985) and The Good Society (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1991). 7 Patricia Wittberg SC, Creating a Future for Religious Life: A Sociological Perspective (New York: Paulist Press, 1991). 8 "Results of the Survey on Associate Membership," Horizon 16, no. 2 (Winter 1991). 9 In the early 1980s, one external observer of the religious-forma-tion process likened the care given the few members who entered religious orders to the attention lavished on chicks of a nearly extinct species of birds. Resources were lavished on a few in the hope that they would sur-vive to adulthood. At times formation personnel felt as thpugh they were held hostage by both the candidates and the vowed members until they produced conditions that would get the candidates to make a life com-mitment. ,0 See Patricia Wittberg SC, The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1994), for an his-torical perspective on this notion. ,1 In November 1994, the Leadership Conference of Women Religious convened a think tank on the viability of religious institutes. As reported in that month's LCWR Update, the group searched experience for lessons. After looking at examples of the merger or reconfiguration of religious institutes, the suppression of institutes to create a new congregation, and the decision of a congregation to die with grace, the group concluded that the key element in each case was leadership. In every instance the out-come was shaped by the kind of leadership that had been exercised. 12 Clare Dunn CSJ and Judy Lovchik CSJ. Playmates Winter and springtime playing leapfrog together in March, April, May, Dorothy Forman OSF Review for Religious THERESA MANCUSO The Urban Hermit: Monastic Life in the City Does urban monasticism work? What is an urban hermit? How and why live a solitary monastic lifestyle in the midst of the city? Who are these people? New forms and expressions of monastic life have occurred historically throughout the centuries in both Eastern and Western Christian tradition. They continue to evolve today in the new landscape of the modem world where the hermit's life--the monk in solitude--is not lim-ited to a rural setting, but has found its plake in the city. Monks and nuns in the twentieth and twenty-first cen-turies will be eremitical and cenobitical; they will live in communities and alone, in the country and in the. city. Monastic life has but one rule: the Gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ. The goal and purpose of the monas-tic way is union with God, the unification of the person, human salvation, enlightenment, and wisdomuin a word, happiness. Accordingly, monastic life in every time and place is a committed and consecrated endeavor to live faithfully by the precepts of Christ. The monastic voca-tion arises when and where it will in direct response to the call of grace. The urban hermit finds himself or her-self immersed in the spiritual treasures of monastic tra-dition, an integral expression here and now of that same tradition. Theresa Mancuso published "Reflection on the Solitary Life'-' in our September-October 1994 issue. She lives at 310 Beverly Road #4F; Brooklyn, New York 11218. seeking God March-April 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit Bede Griffiths, the charismatic, daring Benedictine who took his monastic vocation to India and back, wrote in The Marriage of East and l/Vest that: ¯. whatever the fate of this present world, the real need is to find a way of life which is able to survive all such disas-ters. In the Roman Empire it was monastic life which saved the world . . . monks who fled to the deserts of Egypt, Palestine and Mesopotamia founded a way of life based on prayer and work in conditions of the utmost poverty and simplicity and alone survived the collapse of the Roman Empire . . . [their] teaching and example led to the foun-dation of monasteries all over Eur6pe, in which the basis of a new civilization could be found. Today. there has been a revival of monastic life all over the world., centers of ferment which [may] gradually trans-form society and make possible a new civilization. The world of Bede Griffiths appears, perhaps, far removed from the noisy metropolis of New York, Chicago, Washington, Paris, Ba'rcelona, or Hong Kong. Nevertheless, the same ageless truths of which Bede spoke are the Gospel imperatives that call monastic life into being--new forms and old, today like yesterday. That which impelled Bede Griffiths to live his own monastic life a world away in the Hindu ashram is the same impetus that has given rise to solitary monastic ventures in the heart of the city. There is no geography, no time or place, in which monasticism cannot thrive and contemplative life grow. Prayer, work, poverty, and simplicity are the bedrock of a monastic heart. Alone as solitary or hermit or in the midst of community, the monk's path (monk meaning male and female) is to be immersed in God, preoccupied with the Gospel of Christ, living its life, breathing its breath, soaked in the perennial abso-lutes about which there is no ~luestion, no geography, no barrier of age, time, place, culture, or condition. In days of old, the desert was a city, according to D.J. Chitty in his classic work about early monasticism, The Desert a City. Today, perhaps, we can say it another way: the city a desert. What is this desert, then, so fundamental to the monk's life? Desert is wasteland, wilderness, barren solitude, profound silence. Desert is seclusion where the monk searches in prayer and penance, self-emptying (kenosis), th(deliberate renunciation of selfish desires, striving for inner emptiness, awaiting the hour of God's time (kairos), the manifestation of divine grace. Review for Religious The urban hermit is a kind of monk among many. Like monks everywhere, the urban hermit is consecrated to God by vows, sacred promises public or private, temporary or perpetual, worded traditionally--poverty, chastity, obedience, stability--or stated in creative new expressions. The meaning is the same. The monk is one, consecrated, offered, surrendered in complete dedication to God, steadfast in love, permeated with an all-encompassing charity that defines the heart of the monk as lover of God, com-passionate toward all God's creatures. Love sustains the lifestyle of the monastic vocation. Monasticism is a life of union and unity, communion and com-munity, silence and solitude, depth and diver-sity. Love is the call; love, the vocation; love, the path, the way, the meaning, and the reward. God, not a human inventor, makes monks. And this God does when and where he pleases. With the entire focus of the heart fixed on God, the monastic way may weave a strange thread indeed, not perhaps the dream one had in first embarking on the monastic journey. As life unfolds, so does the call of God. Consecration, dedication, immer-sion in Christ--these are what remains. All the rest is incidental. Accordingly, as the grace of God unfolds in pers.onal human history, the fine tuning of a monastic vocation eventually comes to fit the individual. In other words, who and what we are from the hand of God and our mother's womb finally dictates who and what we must become. The mystery of sanctification is some-times conditioned by transition, but it is always and everywhere in God's hands. To be consecrated means to live in the presence of God, to be centered in him, devoted to him, belonging to him, regardless of the conditions of life which are--after all--only the environment, not the essence of the monastic vocation. It is not surprising, then, or at least it should not be, that we have come to find monks and nuns living alone in the city, years and miles from where their monastic journey began. This, too, is caught up in the mystery of salvation. The beautiful Rule of Life created nearly twenty years ago by Father Pierre-Marie Delfieux for the Jerusalem Community-- monks of the city--says: ". You can live in God's heart at the heart of the city because it is his dwelling place. Be monk and nun in the very heart of the city of God" (No. 128). This is true What is this desert so fundamental to the monk's life? Marcb-dp~ql 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit of individuals as well as communities. Lacking financial endow-ment that might create the illusion of security, safety, and afford complete separation from the world, the urban hermit must go out every single day into the hustle and busde of the city just to make a living. And this is exactly as it should be. To be "monk and nun in the very heart of the city of God" is to work in the midst of humanity, to suffer the problems and dif-ficulties of the job, the discipline of tasks that await one at the workplace. It is not a distraction to work in the real world. It is, rather, a call to the most generous and absolute imperative: to center one's heart by turning inward at the same time as one must turn outward in labor. There is no duality in this process; it is an act of unification, part and parcel of monastic experience. Laborare et orate. The work of balancing internal contemplative life with exter-nal work in the center of the city requires a kind of persever-ance. In the beginning, it may seem impossible to remain contemplative in the busy atmosphere of city life. But, no, it is not impossible. The heart cries out to God, "Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner," and learns, bit by bit, to pray easily in the midst of all the noisy activity and wild frenzy of the city. Over time, the monk in the world realizes the deep-est center to be one's own impenetrable fortress of joy, faith, Spirit, and Life. Later in his Rule, Father Pierre-Marie says: "What the early monks set out to seek yesterday in the desert, you will find today in the city. All monastic life is a fight and urban monasticism calls for fighters. Followers of Christ, the Beatitudes summon you to a life of real struggle in the heart of the city" (No. 129). There is no protection but God's for the urban hermit who lives and dwells in the real world, as stark and naked a reality as ever there was in the heart of the desert. Like the Desert Fathers and Mothers, the urban hermit knows the isolation and threat of the wilderness, the roar of beasts and the temptation of the heart. To find peace in the city is to walk with God in the deepest center of one's being. " The Monastic Typicon ofNeTv Skete (1980) says this about work: "Throughout history, our fathers and brethren in monastic life have taught that work is not only required to sustain oneself, but that it is equally important as a means of self-discipline and as an adiunct to prayer and worship and individual total growth. Review for Religious Work, therefore,ds part and parcel of our life, first of all, because it;is essential to monastic life in general" (Nos. 71 and 72). The urban hermit, bound by the same need to work that char-acterizes all persons, is fortunate if livelihood can be obtained working at home within the poustinia, but this is not always the case. In fact, it is rarely possible. The monk in the world must learn to accommodate to working conditions in the professions or elsewhere, whether the work~is manual or intellectual. Work joins the monk to all people of all time and place. "With the sweat of your brow shall you earn your bread" (Gn 3:19). Over time, work itself becomes sweet to the monk, for it is but another expres-sion of the inner song of the heart: "Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." It has been said that it is not the habit that makes the monk. Nor is it the work. What is essential in mdnastic spirituality is that work and every other dimension of life be characterized by the interior spirit of recollection, purity of intention, and single-mindedness. Work is a sanctifying process, it is not a distraction. By reaching down deeper and deeper into the pool of faith in order to carry out one's work properly, the work and the worker will be immersed and bathed in the light of divine presence. Thus the monk in the marketplace is at home in God's world. In Contemplation in a World of Action, Thomas Merton wrote decades ago, perhaps the prelude for today's monk in the world: "Do we really choose between the world and Christ as between two conflicting realities absolutely opposed? Or do we choose Christ by choosing the world as it really is in Him, that is to say, created and redeemed by him? Do we really renounce ourselves and the world in order to find Christ, or do we renounce our alienated and false selves in order to choose our own deepest truth in choosing both the world and Christ at the same time?" The urban hermit, immersed now in solitude, now in actual labor outside the hermitage, seeks to integrate the contemplative life of the poustinia with the, marketplace where a living is earned. Renunciation of the false self and transcendence over the spirit of the world through the practice of interior recollection and con-templative prayer purify the heart and transform the effort to do one's best into the peaceful harmony that defines right livelihood. The monk is called by God to live alone in him--monos-- monacbos--one--single--alone. In community or in the hermitage wherever it may be, the monk strives to be of single .'focus. In the March-Apt41 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit marketplace the monk is living witness to the holiness of work, the goodness of the world, and the salvation of the earth by the mercy of God. As humility should characterize the soul of a monk, so, too, simplicity, charity, gentleness, tenderness, compassion will exemplify the detachment of heart that frees the religious hermit and enables the monk to live in the world without becoming worldly. The urban hermit strives to renounce that which is worldly (self-centered, egotistical, arrogant, profit-seeking, and decep-tive), to cast out and obliterate those attitudes of mind that block communion with God and harmony with one's fellow creatures on this fragile planet. The pure heart of God's solitary learns to return to the world as often as necessary, not as an adventurer seeking new pleasures or material power, but as one crucified in Christ, transfigured ,by Christ, restored to innocence and holi-ness of life. The soul of the monk, one would hope, gradually becomes transparent, clean, empty, full and brimming over with the joy that comes only from God. The Monastic Typicon of New Skete states that: "Prayer and worship are the major concerns of monastic life. Through the liturgical celebrations [monks] participate in the mysteries of the life and death of Christ, thus moving toward the universal reali-ties of resurrection and transfiguration" (No. 60). The urban her-mit, in communion with monks and nuns of every time and place, lives in the. paschal mystery of the Lord by entering into liturgi-cal celebrations, whether the Liturgy of the Hours or the Eucharist. The "divine office" marks the hours of the day, spiraling the soul in and out of psalmody, uplifting, descending, flying to God, returning to earth. The urban hermit, at work in the marketplace of the world, simply does not have the luxury of stopping to chant the Third Hour, the Sixth Hour, or the Ninth Hour of the day. Nevertheless, interior prayer should never cease, but accompany all our actions, those of labor and social intercourse, as well as the times and places when we are free to enter most deeply into the prayer of the church. Urban hermits try to celebrate as many hours of the "divine office" as are possible in the demands of every day, for life in the world requires the monk to be present to its concerns without losing the focus of vocation. Prime. Lauds. Matins. Vespers. Compline. At least pa~'t of the regular Hours m'ust be celebrated Review for Religio1~s alone or in the parish church if possible. Sometimes the urban hermit may join a religious community for the observance of litur-gical prayer. The wisdom of the desert is today the wisdom of the city-- that is, the city of God. It would be foolishness to overburden one-self by attempting to work a required 35 6r 40 hour week outside the hermitage and expect to be able to complete all the Liturgy of the Hours. Certainly, God does not require the impossible. The rule of faith is simple: Do what is possible. Do what you can. But do everything you can as best you can, with your whole heart, your whole soul, and your whole being. Concentrate the very fiber of your existence on that which is given to God without neglect-ing that which is given to people. What is the difference anyway between the basket-weaving monk in the wilderness of Egypt who goes down to sell wares at the marketplace from time to time and the computer-opera-tor monk in the center of Manhattan who commutes to Brooklyn or Queens by subway after work? It is the spirit, the heart of the monk---interior substance--that matters. That which defines the monastic vocation is singleness of focus. Prayer that is intimate and ongoing moment by moment, hour by hour, cements our union with God and prompts the conversion of our hearts over and over again, making holy not only our poor, fragile lives, but everything we touch and everyone we love. The monk is leaven in the marketplace and remains so by cherishing and using advantageously the secret silenc~e and deep seclusion of the hermitage, even when many hours must be spent outside. The Liturgy of the Hours is first and finally the greatest cel-ebration of the heart and the center of monastic life. It is the joy of Christians and the soul of monasticism. To chant the "divine office" is to enter again and again into the ageless mystery of Christ. Season by season, liturgical texts teach the heart, renew the spirit, and join humanity to God in the person of Christ, the only lover of humanity. Simplicity, charity, gentleness, tenderness, compassion will exemplify the detachment of heart that frees the religious hermit and enables the monk to live in the world without becoming worldly. MarclJ-Aptql 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit The monk at large may celebrate the Liturgy of the Hours in a monastery church with a community of brother or sister monks or in the parish church anywhere in the city or countryside of his or her abode. It does not matter. At the heart of the liturgy is found the whole meaning of the monastic vocation: to die and rise with Christ in fulfillment of the Father's will for the redemp-tion of the world. The Eucharist is the food of monastic life, its sustenance and joy. To find a monk who does not deeply love the liturgy is to find a sorry sort of monk. Therefore, time and energy must be made available to participate properly in the celebration, of the Eucharist. This is the heart and center of the monastic life. As practiced by Pachomius and the monks of Eastern Christendom, the Eucharist was celebrated weekly, not daily, though it remains the privilege and practice in the Latin rite to celebrate Eucharist daily. The liturgical chants that surround the Eucharist provide spiritual nourishment and food for contemplation. The urban hermit goes forth from the church after participation in the liturgy, and carries back to the city and back to the hidden place of his or her own poustinia the wealth of Scripture that echoes in the prayers of the Eucharist. Be it a tiny .apartment in a busy housing complex or a huge industrial or professional workplace, the chants and meaning of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist remain with the urban hermit all day, eveory day, feed-ing heart and mind with those things which endure, the living breath of contemplative life. Finally, the urban hermit learns to safeguard religious seclu-sion and solitude which provide the depth of silence and cen-teredness that is indispensable to the monastic way. The integrity of monastic life and the monk's personal steadfastness in this voca-tion arise from that wellspring of silence and solitude that ripened by seclusion. Nevertheless, the monk in the city must never become a self-preoccupied hermit whose reclusive tendencies spring from self-deception as if the world were a contagion to be avoided at all cost. A balance of solitude is derived from a healthy view of reality. The opposite is unsound. To live in the midst of the world as an urban hermit is not to sacrifice or minimize the essential quality of seclusion and solitude necessary for ctntemplative prayer. Urban hermits are usually not reclusive. To go inward for the sake of contemplation is a dis- Review for Refigious cipline of the heart, not an act of walls and fences. Monks in the world must come and go; while cherishing and protecting the inner sanctuary of monastic seclusion that is an essential element of the hermit's life. They accomplish this by setting and main-taining proper boundaries. Hospitality and social needs are part of reality--essential for psychological and spiritual balance, no more, no less. They, too, like everything else, must be harmonized with reality in the vocation of the city monk. All the more must the urban hermit learn to bal-ance seclusion and secular involvement, for, being alone, he or she needs to understand what constitutes a necessary monastic enclo-sure in the world and what constitutes run-ning away. Extremes can best be avoided by studying the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Lord went apart to pray; he rested in the desert and returned to the city. So, too, the monk in the marketplace needs separation from the world. If monks today are to be the salt of society, "the monastery" must be accessible to all, so that they (those in the world who come into contact with monastic life) "may savor its life, its worship, and its message" (Monastic Typicon of New Skete, No. 28). The monk who goes forth from the silent sanctuary of a quiet hidden hermitage in the midst of the city to work and walk among the people of the world does so from necessity and generosity to let the world taste and savor the consecrated life, what it is and what it means, inviting the world to share in the worship and message of the monastic vocation. We must not hide from life, but embrace it, immersing every aspect of it into the mystery of Christ as we ourselves plunge our entire existence into the paschal real-ity, first at baptism, then throughout the day~ of our vocation. It is thus that all is transfigured b,y the grace of God and the entire cosmos shares in the transfiguration of Christ. For the urban hermit, this harmonious integration of all things is at the center of the monastic vocation. But tha~ is exacdy as it has always been for monastic life today and throughout its history--the still point in the turning world, where God and humanity meet and the spark of wisdom is given to illuminate the earth. To find a monk who does not deeply love the liturgy is to find a sorry sort of monk. Marcb-Aptql 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit I like to think Bede Griffiths or Thomas Merton, or indeed any of the great monks and nuns who are our spiritual forebears, might share a day or week in the life of an urban monk and find themselves altogether quite comfortable. They would recognize the rhythm of prayer, silence, solitude, work, hospitality, study, lec-tio divina, and liturgy. Those great followers of St. Anthony, father of Egyptian monasticism, or those who walk with St. Benedict, who codified monastic life--and all the others in between--should recognize in the urban hermit, monk in the world, the same hunger for God that led them in their own spiritual journeys. They would know the path, for it is one: forsaking all, embracing all, a voyage of the heart through dark and desolate places, remote and wild, desert and city, places where the monastic vocation thrives and God meets humanity in a singular embrace of love. References Chitty, D.J. The Desert a City. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1961. Griffiths, Bede. The Marriage of East and West. Springfield, Illinois: Templegate Publishers, 1982. Merton, Thomas. Contemplation in a World of Action. New York: Doubleday, 1971. At Hand but Unattended I spend my foolish life in search of marvels, of wonders to delight and startle me. The ordinary could not hold my interest, my soul each da. y demanded mystery.~ I envied those who lived when. Christ was preaching, who saw him work his wonders with a word. What drama to have seen a blind man sighted, the lepers cleansed, the deaf when first they heard. But, oh, how stupid I with all my longing, my searching for a miracle to see. I let my days go by, not ever grasping my miracle was God creating me. James F. Finley Review for Religious MARIE BEHA Enclosed in the Mystery of Jesus My " stery is a reality which we must explore from within, .a. ¯ .~. enter into, and live with. In contrast, a problem is some-thing we must externalize, be objective about, and solve. We pre-fer the latter, delighting in the challenge, the sense of mastery and control which it gives us. So we relish a "mystery" story just because it presents us with a whole set of "problems" to be solved. And we resist the mysteries in our lives even though we are fas-cinated by the breadth and depth of the big questions like "Where do we come from?" and "What is life?" Religious who freely choose to live enclosed lives present problems for many, even for many Catholics, just because they are so mysterious. Why would persons choose to confine them-selves within a drastically limited geographic space, associating, for the most part, with the same few people for the rest of their lives? It sounds as dismal as life-in-prison. But this is to make the mis-take of seeing enclosure in a problematic context. It is to bang our fists demanding an answer that satisfies us. It als0 misses the invitation to explore a mystery. Unfortunately, not much has been written on enclosure, and much of what has been done approaches it from its more prob-lematic side, presenting its canonical aspects, pointing out its rea-sonableness, or seeking to justify its continuance. Valid, certainly, since enclosure, like other incarnational realities, has external shape and form. Far more importantly, it also has a heart of mys-tery that invites exploration. Two contemporary efforts present the basic meaning of enclo-sure, inviting the reader to explore the reality to appreciate its Marie Beha OSC may be addressed at 1916 N. Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. March-April 1996 Beha * Enclosed in the Mystery of Jerus mystery. The first of these interpretations has been articulated by Sister Chiara Lainati in an article in Forma Sororum (vol. 4/5 [1983]: 200-203) where she describes it as a "particular way in the church of living out the paschal mystery . . . the emptying out of Christ on the cross" (p. 201). The second is that of Father Herbert Schneider:, who in his Commentary on the General Constitutions (private!y publ!shed, 1992, pp. 14-15), p[esents enclo-sure as "the place of decision to remain with the Lord" related to the statement of the Lord, "Remain in my love" (Jn 15:4). Each of our interpreters has the credentials to present this mystery of enclosure. Sister Chiara Lainati is a Poor Clare nun, a member of the protomonastery in Assisi, where she has served as abbess while continuing to do writing and research on topics related to the Poor Clare way of life. Presently she is the abbess of the small group of Clares pioneering a new contemplative foun-dation in the Vatican. Father Herbert Schneider has been provin-cial of the Franciscan province of Cologne and spiritual assistant of the Federation of German-speaking Poor Clares. At present he is in Rome as the delegate general to all communities who claim affiliation with the Franciscan Order, including the Poor Clares, In this office he has visited monasteries all over the world, presenting workshops as well as attending chapters of Poor Clare federations. Although papal enclosure directly involves only a few Christians, the reality which it symbolizes is a staple of Christian living. Each of us in our own style of life needs to incorporate such values as stability, participating in the paschal mystery, and remaining in Christ. To do this we have to accept many kinds of limits, including geographic ones. Enclosed in the Paschal Mystery Sister Chiara Lainati's "Enclosure: Characteristic Way for Clare to Express the Paschal Mystery" begins by rejecting the more traditional interpretations of enclosure as a "means" of pro-tecting chastity or of promoting the life of contemplation. In cri-tiquing the latter she points out that today there are other more suitable means, such as courses on prayer or the word of God. In her view, enclosure, like the other vows, is a way of entering more deeply into the self-emptying of Jesus. Just as poverty is described traditionally as a renunciation of material possessions, chastity as; Review for Religio us renunciation of sexual intimacy, marriage, and family, and obedi-ence as renunciation of one'~ self-will and determination, enclo-sure "limits a person in space, impoverishes her in her possibilities of action and of spatial liberty." This points out the "underside" of all the vows; they all include a saying "no" to some important human values, but only for the sake of a saying "yes" to some-thing else. "In this perspective enclosure has value in itself, as an opening of oneself to grace, just as Christ, alone on the mountain, was open to the contemplation of the Father" (p. 14). Sister Chiara treats of the origins of Clare's profession of enclosure. She believes that it originated during her brief stay at Sant' Angelo di Panzo, after she had left the Benedictine Monastery of San Paolo and before Francis took her to San Damiano, which was to become her true home. According to Sister Chiara, the group at Sant' Angelo was a community of recluses and penitents from whom Clare took "the completely new and revolutionary idea of a bond of deeper union in that kenosis of Christ which is his solitude of death on the cross" (p. ,1'5). Parenthetically Sister Chiara mentions that enclosure was not forced upon IZlare but was' her own free choice; there were other options even in her own .day. Witness the Beguine movement in which groups of pious women lived in common and practiced the corporal works of mercy. Clare could have chosen a similar form of active ministry, but she seems to have felt called to a lifestyle that included the discipline of enclosure. The question, then, is not whether Clare was enclosed, but the why and the bow of her choice. Both, according to Sister Chiara, evolved as expressions of the mystery of the kenosis of Jesus. Over and over again, Clare emphasizes the importance of "keeping one's eyes fixed on Jesus" (Heb 3:1). Specifically she urges Agnes of Prague to look in the mirror that is Jesus and to see reflected there the Infant Christ and the Crucified One: Look at the border of this mirror, that is; the poverty of him who was placed in a manger and wrapped in swaddling clothes. Then at the surface of the mirror, consider the holy humility, the blessed poverty, the untold labors and bur-dens that he endured for the redemption of the whole human race. Then in the depth of this same mirror, con-template the ineffable charity that led him to suffer on the " wood of the cross and to die there the most shameful kind of death. March-April 1996 Beba * Enclosed in the Mystery of Jesus Let us respond with one voice, with one spirit, to him crying and grieving who said: Remembering this over and over leaves my soul downcast within me (IV LAg. 19:22- 26). Looking at Jesus Crucified was not idle speculation for Clare, nor just an exercise in contemplative piety. For her, seeing involved not only believing but also living out of that belief. It meant imitation, a putting on the Lord Jesus that brought about a profound interior change. It was participation in the mystery of Jesus. As Clare looked at Jesus, what she saw was not only his bod-ily suffering but at a deeper level the. self-emptying that was sur-render to the Father's will. It was the same self-emptying that marked the incarnation ("He emptied himself, taking the form' of a servant" Ph 2:7), continued all through his active ministry ("My food is to do the will of the one who sent me" Jn 4:34), and culminated in that last triumphant cry, "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (Lk 23:46). What does it mean to empty oneself?. At first glance this seems a contradiction. To let go of externals, persons, or things, is theoretically possible, though dif-ficult, but to empty self of self?. How can that be? It sounds, at best, like looking for a way to lift oneself by oneself. Where could one stand, take hold of oneself, to initiate the process? Mystery again. First of all is the mystery of what we mean by self. And if that were not enough, there is the still greater mystery of the process itself. Self, as well as self-emptying, like all mysteries, can only be discovered from inside ourselves. Each of us already has some experience of what we mean by se/fwhen we say, "I am not my best self .today," or affirm, "Yes, that is true of me. That is the way I am." In each instance we have some core experience to which we turn, the bedrock of our personal identity. We recognize ourselves even when we cannot give anything like an adequate description of who we are. This is so because the self that I am is a very sim-ple concept, one that cannot easily be broken down. There is no simple recipe that will blend the right ingredients into a whole we can identify as myself Adding up qualities never sums identity. We can only work toward self-knowledge within the revelatory context of our everyday-lives. This process of self-discovery is initiated with the beginnings of consciousness and continues till death. It is dynamic, a lesson Review for Religious never completely learned but essentially ongoing. Initially the focus is on relating self to an external world, distinguishing myself from other realities. So the baby discovers: I am separate from the surrounding bed, different from mother. How separate? How different? The former distinction will be discovered quite easily; the latter may never be completely accomplished! But this is only negative knowledge: I am not .Ahead lies the whole range of positive identification: "I am .". Others hold up a mirror of how they see us and we begin to discover ourselves in that reflection. I am. baby. I am. good baby., sometimes! Fortunate the individual whose first feedback from others is real-istic and basically positive. Inevitably some of it will be neither. Others may identify us with their problems, ignore us, threaten us, deny us, abuse us. Initially we are almost completely dependent on these impressions received from others; that is why these are so formative. Most of the rest of our lives, we will experience some flashback of these first experiences of who we are. As time goes on, we begin to accumulate a growing memory bank of others' perceptions and of our own self-reflection; together these become the core of our identity We learn how we relate and are related to others, what we can and cannot do, and why we choose or refuse as we do. We come to describe ourselves in such obvious ways as age, sex, size, and shape but much more significandy as smart or stupid, as lovable or unlovable, as good enough or not good enough. Over time these labels take on the reality of personal identity; true or false, they are who we think we are and so tend to become self-fulfilling prophecy. Still, this self-concept that forms me is not written in stone; rather it is as fluid as the flow of time and changing life circum-stances. I can and do become a different person, changing in ways that are more or less profound. Acquaintances who say "I hardly recognize you" may be noting only superficial characteristics. Others who know us better remind us, in the face of surprising changes in the externals of our lives, "I always thought you might. ," under-lining the continuity that is our basic identity. So where does self-emptying come into the picture? What could it mean? On one level it can mean that openness to change which allows us to grow and develop. Unless we are willing to let go of some of our past and present identity, our self-concept remains the same. Detachment is needed if we are to move away from previous self-definition. So change, even freely chosen and Marcb-~lplql 1996 Beba ¯ Enclosed in tbe Mystery of yesus The more significant the change the greater the threat, but conversion never comes without a price tag. desired change, can be painful. It poses risks; our self will never be the same, and We have grown accustomed to its face. The more significant the change the greater the threat, but conversion never comes without a price tag. Yet this is not the fullest meaning of self-emptying. Change is self-improvement or self-destruction, depending on its direc-tion, but self is still very much in the picture. We want it to be; this is how our functional self will grow. Even when we make a destructive choice, we do so under the delusion that this is somehow to our imme-diate advantage, mistakenly opting for imme-diate gratification rather than wait for the slower-appearing benefits of disciplined effort. As our functional self becomes more clearly delineated, we find ourselves growing in per-sonal security. Faithful response to the chal-lenge of ongoing conversion prepares us for another level of letting go; we begin to be capa-ble of self-forgetfulness. The focus shifts from me at the center of the world to a broader view that is increasingly other-centered. The inse-cure .adolescent (of whatever age) grows into the generous adult capable of entering the world of the other with fewer repeated nervous glances back to "how am I doing?" Who of us has not admired individuals mature enough to hold in creative tension the concerns of self with those of oth-ers. Secure in their self-identity, they are not so preoccupied with their own needs that they cannot even see those of others. Nor are they so involved in meeting the neediness of others that the self is at risk of'being destroyed in the process. The latter is only a dis-gnised form of self-gratification that threatens dual destruction. The maturity that makes self-forgetfulness possible opens the self to the world of others, allowing for a truly personal rela-tionship, a dialogue of love. The bonding of parent and child, of a long-married couple, of friends, all exemplify letting go of self for the sake of being with, being for, another. In these experi-ences we begin to discover the paradox that in losing ourselves we find ourselves. We become more ourselves because of the other, and we are grateful. These loving relationships that are first lessons in self-for-getfulness can begin at any age level; they continue for life and are Review for Religious always maturing. But they are not self-emptying. In self-forget-fulness there is still a self, with the focus shifting back and forth between self,and others. We are ourselves and we identify our-selves in loving the others, as loving the other. Self-emptying goes deeper still. Preliminary to it is our will-ingness to allow it to happen. "Let this attitude be in you which was also in Christ Jesus" (Ph 2:5). The self needs to accept self-emp-tying, such is the exquisite courtesy of God who always waits on the consent of our freedom. Still, the initiative is God's inviting us, gradually readying us, then asking us if we are ready. Our hearts must answer, not just our heads. The question: Where is your trea-sure; what do you really want? If our wholehearted response is: God, first of all, more than all, most of all, then the center of self changes. We are no longer just ourselves; our life "is hidden now with Christ, in God" (Col 3:3). This is where "we live and move and have our being" (Ac 17:28), and "I live now, not I . " (Ga 2:20). What was formerly said as pious slogan, then desired more or less seriously, now begins to be realized in our "mortal flesh." This is first experienced with the same sense of awkwardness that accompanies other beginnings. More than just strange, the loss of self is painful. Where is the I? What is happening? Even to ask these questions is to focus back on self. We might expect such a return to normal self-reflectiveness to feel familiar; it may not, and this will be even more disturbing. Who am I and who am I becoming? These questions may be natural enough, but they are no longer important or even relevant. We have to let them go, never mind the risk. This shift from I to the Other of God is as gradual as all other growth. For' a period of time, more or less prolonged, the self is sometimes operative and sometimes gone. We lose ourselves and then recover ourselves. Sometimes our activity will seem self-directed, self-reflective; at other times our focus will move to a self-forgetfulness that allows for a going beyond self. In all of this, though, we are free to say "yes" or "no." We cannot make it happen; that is beyond us. What is ours to do is to accept the divine action or refuse it. The latter occurs when we become afraid, clinging nervously to self; when we yield to the pseudosecurity of self-directed activity; when we try looking back over our shoulder to see ourselves. All of these are perfectly nat-ural, not supernatural; nor do they represent the level on which we are being invited to live. March-April 1996 Beha * Enclosed in the Mystery of yesus The simple truth is that we are no longer our own. We belong to another. "We are God's people, the sheep of God's flock" (Ps 100:3). It sounds fine in general! However, in all the particular-ity of our own experience it presents the most intriguing of mys-teries. Only through generous participation will we be able to share the new life being offered to us. While it is certainly true that we are experiencing a loss of self, it is even truer that we have never been more ourselves. This is who we really are: a creature, created in God's image, redeemed, sanctified and enabled to live divinely./~ are in Christ Jesus. Our truest self exists, lives, only in God, our beginning and our end. This is the self we are called to be "now and forever and forever." How does enclosure further this process of self-emptying? Sister Chiara Lainati states this without developing specifics. I believe the answer lies in the way that enclosure loosens the hold of the functional self and at the same time makes more possible a kind of primary centering on the other that is God. At- least that is its potential; like all of the other vows, enclosure provides an opportunity but does not automatically accomplish what it offers. Let us begin with the loosening of the grip of the functional self. Enclosure clearly limits personal geography so that we become very familiar with our surroundings; we are freer, then, to let go of our self-regarding, cautionary self without endangering life or limb. Contrast this with the degree of anxious concern that marks our traveling into strange space. In the same way, customary rela-tionships with familiar persons relax the ego's grip. We are freed from such self-regarding questions as: Who are we in this new relationship? How are we affected by it? Those are always self-regarding questions. At home and relaxed, we can be ourselves, forget ourselves, and be readied to go beyond ourselves. Similarly, within enclosure, simple, familiar work frees from those compet-itive, complex work situations that underline self-achievement, self-accomplishment, and the building up of the functional self. Put in a more positive way, by limiting one's field of vision, enclosure intensifies the seeing. Like a spotlight, it centers atten-tion on Another. This is illustrated by the inscription over many medieval monastery gates, "God alone," that was both a warning and a promise. Nothing else would be found within; self-seeking would find itself either badly malnourished, trying to satisfy itself on meager rations or starving to death; that was the warning. The promise: Beyond the self God was waiting. Review for Religious But only if the asceticism of an enclosed life was accepted graciously and lived faithfully. Included in the discipline: fidelity to the limits of physical geography, to intracommunity relation-ships and noncompetitive work. But none ,of these can be inter-preted in too materialistic a way. It is the heart that matters, the spirit that must be set free. Limited physical geography can imprison, circumscribed relationships can shrink one's world, and simple work can leave the mind dangerously idle. All such prac-tices can also become self-congratulatory, just as fasting can feed the ego. Each individual must discover for herself and then incorpo-rate into life the particular practices that will allow her to go deeper into the paschal mystery of Jesus. For example: Curiosity may need to be controlled though its object is legitimate; reading, even of a spiritual character, may need restriction lest the func-tional self become too active; even some self-satisfying forms of vocal or mental prayer may need to be abandoned. Examples could be multiplied; what they would have in common is the self-emptying that allows for a more complete immersion into the mystery of God. To the degree that this occurs, enclosure comes to partake in the paradox of the beatitudes. Emptiness will be filled with the fullness of God; being confined will bring greater freedom. Going apart will result in being still more a part; limited apostolic oppor-tunity will hasten the coming of the kingdom through a deepen-ing of the baptismal grace of being "buried with Christ" to "rise to new life with Christ" (Col 2:12). Relating enclosure to the paschal mystery of Jesus as Sister Chiara does permits new emphasis on its sacramental character. It has outward signs, but these point toward a deeper interior reality. But the new life within that is the exciting possibility of enclosure is not guaranteed. Nor is enclosure in the canonical sense of the term the only means. The same process of self-emp-tying for the sake of deeper immersion in the mystery of God can be accomplished in many different life circumstances. For example, fidelity to the limits of a geography circumscribed by poverty or illness, of family relationships stressed by contempo-rary nonvalues, of routine work that offers little room for self-congratulation-- all these can become occasions for self-emptying or for self-seeking. The choice is ours. Freely choosing to live ¯ within the limits of enclosure of whatever kind can be fruitful. March-April 1996 Beha ¯ Enclosed in the Mystery of yesus Though the limits and limitations of any kind of enclosure are real and should not be diluted, its basic purpose is positive: fuller participation in the mystery of God and growing freedom. When chosen as part of an ongoing vocational commitment, it becomes a way of waiting on God, of bringing forth new life in the church and the world, of growing in the freedom that is the power of Christ's redemptive death. Remaining in Jesus Father Herbert Schneider centers his presentation of enclo-sure around the gospel words "Remain in my love" (Jn 15:4). As he explains in his Commentary on the Poor Clare Constitutions, "Enclosure is the place of decision to remain with the Lord. The innermost enclosure is the space of the heart. In relationship to that, the enclosure of the building is a sign and a help" (p. ~14). Because enclosure is primarily a matter of the heart, Schneider suggests that a variety of interpretations may be given to its exter-nal form without changing its essential meaning. What is true is that enclosure has a value of itself and belongs to the basic ~ele-ments of contemplative life (p. 14). ~ Each life has a where, expressed on the geographic level when we say "My address is. ," or "I live in." and rephrased more significantly as ',IYm at home here" or "I no longer know where I am." In the latter two examples ~we begin to explore the way in which external space relates to the world of the psyche and, ulti-mately, to that of the spirit. In everyday parlance, we frequently use spatial metaphors to refer to internal realities: "personal space" and "individual direction." "Don't crowd me" can be meant lit-erally or it can be a graphic way of asking for more time, more space for personal considei, ation. Similarly, when we ask someone to show us the way, we may be hoping for directions on a map or direction fo~: life. As Schneider points out, enclosure is a spatial metaphor for the contemplative desire to remain with God. It is an incarna-tional reality, having both an external form and an interior real-ity. Either one without the other would be less than human, iust as an inanimate body is.only.a corpse and a disembodied soul seems conceivable only as a ghost (or an .angel). Viewed exter-nally, enclosure spells imprisonment, but for a contemplative spirit it provides necessary boundaries. Review for Religio~,s To live contemplatively requires space; that is the basic truth Schneider emphasizes. The external boundaries of enclosure pro-vide sacred space where the heart can find a home. This experi-ence of at-homeness is a familiar one, hopefully, to most of us. Although it may be difficult, even impossible to explain, we know there are places, circumstances, relationships in which we can relax, be ourselves, be at peace. We cher-ish these places, seek to find them, even try to create them. So where is a contemplative at home? Essentially, there is only one place, one circumstance, one relationship: in God. "Our hearts are restless till they rest in thee." Augustine knew from personal experience that we are at home nowhere else. Remain in me, dwell in me, abide in me--the same central truth is nuanced in a changing variety of translations. All use the imperative. We are told in the most direct of terms what we are to do: make our home in God. Though we might like to reduce this to a harmless figure of speech, the gospel command is insistent in its reality. In John's Gospel the details are spelled out with evangelical insistence: "Remain in my love" On 15:9) and "Remain in me, as I remain in you" On 15:4), Where can we find a lasting home? Only by living in love, .remaining there, abiding there. We like the idea, but we protest its impossibility. The world in which we live is not a very loving place:' Unfortunately, that misses the point completely. At issue is not the world around us as much as the world inside us. It is we, .at the very center of our being, who are to abide in love; it is our choice, our decision. No one, nothing outside, can evict us from this home. I may not wish to remain there; I may prefer to roam, seek-ing diversion anywhere I can find it. I am restlessly on the move, changing geography or just changing the subjecwI may look for diversion in the media or seek distraction in idle chatter. I may even allow my mind to slip down into dark valleys of personal gloom or climb the bright uneasy slopes of critical judgment. Any Although it may be difficult, even impossible to expla!n, we know there are places, circumstances, relationships in which we can relax, be ourselves, be at pe.ace. March-April 1996 Beba * Enclosed in the Mystery of yesus escape seems better than no escape. All such forms of selfishness seem to promise oases, but prove to be only deserted places. We need to remain where we are in the reality that is ours: present space, immediate situation, personal relationship, even when this is not comfortable, even when we might prefer to be some place., any place., else. Here is the geography of our real-ity, the enclosed space, that allows us to live in truth and in love. Only when we attempt to remain in this loving truth of pre-sent reality do we discover how much unreality pollutes our human situation. Where we try to live is too often only a castle in the air, a mirage. No wonder we cannot find much of a living there. We cannot dwell where we are not. So we must move on. If the direc-tion of our seeking moves us toward home, then we call our change conversion. The moving now becomes a pilgrimaging, a seeking for our true home. Pilgrims we will always be in this life since the only place where we can have a lasting abode is in our eternal dwelling place. But already in this life we do have a home in God, the God who dwells in the center of our hearts. This is where we must remain in the here and now, loving God, ourselves, others. Then we expe-rience ourselves at home. It is the remaining that often becomes problematic. Monastic enclosure is meant to offer a way of doing so. Time and space for God are its first promise. By setting boundaries on who comes and goes, it reserves a generous amount of time and space that Can be filled with the things of God. Again, what is offered is the opporttmity; what is necessary is faithfulness, not just to making use of the time that is available, but also to the specifics of our own personal vocation. What prayer is God inviting me to here, now? ~- At variant times we may find ourselves called to renewed litur-gical dedication or to a silent waiting on the Lord. Ours may be a prayer of pain or one of more generous service. There will be seasons when we will easily dedicate ourselves to thankfulness and other times when it will be all we can do to muster a decent amount of joy. What remains the same: Be faithful in prayer and you will find the Lord. And find yourselfl This can be even more problematic. People expect to find God (perhaps a "dream" God) within the enclo-sure; they may not be as acceptive or expective of the self they will discover as well. Limited space inevitably brings one face to Review for Religiot~s face with self. Lacking a place to hide, we must face ourselves and learn to love the self that we really are, not the self that we often pretend to be. It is the reality of ourselves just as we are presently that God loves, so we do not have an option about self-acceptance. Remaining true to ourselves opens the door to real love of neighbor. Again, we need to embrace others, not as we would like to remake them, but as they are in Christ Jesus. When we mistake our self-centered labeling of others as lovable/unlovable for the judgment of God, we are left in the darkness of untruth. We do not dare stay there. The only place we can remain is in the all-inclusive tenderness of God's love. Life within an enclosed space is meant to make possible such a love, providing opportunities for in-depth relationships that are tested in the crucible of close living, that endure over a lifetime and bear fruit for eternity. The hope of life enclosed, as Schrieider points out, is that it "leads to nearness and to the ability for relationships" (p. 14). This capacity for relationships extends beyond the monastery. Again it is a matter of the heart. In the bond that is God's life-giv-ing love, all are potentially one. This essential unity is lived out in a faith that makes enclosure as wide as divine mercy and as tender as infinite compassion. Again, no pious dream, but vital enough, to inspire a life of everyday sacrifice and self-giving for the building up of the Body of Christ (Ep 2:20)! This is enclosure's spaciousness, its redemptive power. Slowly, gradually, what was once.intellectual assent to faith's truths becomes experience. We are so united "in Jesus" that each person embracing truth and growing in freedom affects the life of all. We never act alone, because we never are alone; our soli-tude is peopled with all the people of God. When these experi-ences become personal, the contemplative no longer feels constrained by enclosure's limits, but, rather, finds fulfillment in remaining there~ at home in the heart of God. The gospel speaks of such remainirig as living in love and also as living in Jesus. There is a sense in which the two descriptions are redundant; to remain in love is to remain in Jesus. What the latter expression adds is helpful personalization along with the unbelievable promise of a certain reciprocity. We live, are, in Jesus and Jesus lives, is, in us On 14: 20). What does it mean to live in Jesus? For one thing, it requires us to remain in the word of God, allowing it to penetrate our March-Aplql 1996 Beha * Enclosed in the Mystery of yesus very being, shaping all our beliefs, our actions. It means living according to the holy gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ as every Christian professes to do. In practice, this may begin with a sim-ple willingness to takeup the Scriptures each day, remaining with them until the word of God sounds deep in our hearts, At each fresh reading of the gospel message, we ask: What is God's good news for me, today? What am I being called to say, to do, to refrain from saying, from doing? Over the course of time this abiding in the word of God begins to shape me, to shape us into gospel people. We become good news in our immediate environment, voices of encourage-ment, sources of strength even as we continue to grow in healthy awareness of our own weakness, for "when we are weak, then we are strong" (2 Co 12:10). As gospel people, we evangelize just in the living of our everyday lives. This remaining in the word of God that is an abiding in Jesus asks that more and more we live as Jesus lived. We think as Jesus thinks, "Let this mind be in you" (Ph 2:4), turning away from the preoccupation with self as well as the defensive criticism of oth-ers that often fill our thinking. Empowered by the Spirit of Jesus we speak as Jesus spoke, "with authority" (Mk 1:22), no longer threatened by fear or plagued by self-doubt. In Jesus, our lives teach, our touch heals. In Jesus we reach out to the poor, the sick, the troubled, the outcasts. The point of our remaining is not to recreate the past of Jesus' life in any literal sort of way. We are not first-century Palestinian Jews. For each of us, to live in Jesus requires fidelity to the cir-cumstances of'our lives. I need to ask: What is the mind of Jesus on my questions, the problematic situations of my days? What does Jesus say to the pleasure and pain that texture my days, the dailyness of my work, my leisure? In the silent spaciousness of the enclosure, these questions become, not pious, exercises, but literal necessities. I need to discover some specifics of an answer. Essential to such remaining in Jesus is the conviction that Jesus already remains in me. "Abide, dwell, live, in me, as I in you." How does Jesus live in me? In the constancy of faithful commitment, a covenant relationship begun in baptism and endur-ing through .all the circumstances of my life, unless repudiated by a definitive rejection on my part. Jesus lives my every activity; none are excluded as too ordinary, too human, too trivial. That is the truth revealed in the incarnation; it is the possibility of my Review for Religious baptism, but a reality that waits on the yes of my desire. Jesus enioys my joys, suffers in my pains, grows weary at the end of my days. His abiding presence remains a loving constant; only the unreali~ of sinfulness reduces my responsiveness. Unbelievably, we can and often do choose our own way rather than the way of Jesus. We temporize: not here, not yet. We assume control, seek-ing to fulfill ourselves. Fortunate the individuals who are open enough to realize such resistance and turn back. They find Jesus waiting, always there. Within enclosure the realization of our withdrawal, of the unsatisfying nature of our selfish pursuits, can come more quickly.There are fewer places to turn, more helps in returning and remaining faithful to Jesus living in us. Gradually, as Jesus lives more fully in us, we come to pray as he did: "Your kingdom come; your will be done" (Mt 6:10). This is where Jesus lived, where he remained: in the will of the Father. From the beginning of "I come to do your will" (Ps 40:8) to the end of "Not as I will but as you will" (Mk 32:36), Jesus had only one center, one place of peace, the will of the Father. If Jesus is to live ever more fully in us, we must stay in the same place. It must be at our every beginning so that it may be the end of all our endings. Sometimes it will be easy to accept God's will; at other times, costly. Ultimately, it will cost everything as we hand over our lives, with the same surrender of "into your hands" (Lk 23:46). This at the hour of death, but alsb in all the immediacy of today's letting go, for to live in Jesus is to die in daily surrender. Then eternity will be iust a continuation of that "remaining in Jesus" which has been the enclosed dwelling place of all our living. At each fresh reading of the gospel message we ask: What is God's good news for me, today? Conclusion Entering into enclosure is a matter of faith and hope. It is a lived expression of the belief that God is worth a whole life's seek-ing. Those who embrace the limits of enclosure find themselves freed for the paschal mystery of risen life through a going down into the valley of death-to-self and daily surrender. If they remain faithful, remaining in Jesus as Jesus remains in them, they will be March-April 1996 Beba ¯ Enclosed in the Mystery of Jesus transformed. No longe~: living for themselves, their lives "will be hidden now, with Christ, in God" (Col 3:3). This is what it means to live within the enclosure. This is to abide in the glory of that promise, "When Christ, who is your life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory" (Col 3:4). Who Am I? I am the woman tentatively touching the hem of Jesus' garment for healing, and having to tell what it is that ails me, and who and what have failed to heal me until now, all of Which was so much rubbish! I am the woman anxiously sweeping my floor in searchof the lost coin, the last coin I had to.live on. How happy I will be when I see it shining in the dust at my fee!! I am the Woman going into the temple putting that last coin of mine into the treasury. Then I will go home wondering whether it was wise of me to have relinquished the only treasure that I had! Bernadette McC~rrick RSM Review for Religiou.~ DANIEL J. HARRINGTON Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging This year I celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of my ordination to the Catholic priesthood in the New England province of the Society of Jesus. This year no one will be ordained a priest in our province. This year ten men will celebrate fifty years as priests, and fifteen men will observe their fiftieth anniversary as Jesuits. Priests and religious in the U.S.A. and Europe are aging, and so, too, religious life. As we grow older together, we surely need the intel-lectual and spiritual resources of our biblical tradition to help us along the way. Many people assume that aging and the elderly are major topics in the Bible. Perhaps they make this assump-tion because the early chapters of Genesis feature char-acters like Methuselah who live to great ages. Perhaps the reason is that the Bible, as an ancient and wise book, must have something important to say on these matters. But from a quantitative perspective aging and the elderly are not central concerns of the Bible. There is no lengthy biblical treatise.on aging and the elderly. Nor is there any uniform perspective in the rela-tively few texts that do deal with these topics. The more explicit treatments appear in the Old Testament. Old Testament Perspectives The people of the Old Testament lived in a traditional Daniel J. Harrington SJ is editor of New Testament Abstracts. His address is Weston Jesuit School of Theology; 3 Phillips Place; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. March-April 1996 Harrin~ton * Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging, The elderly were expected to be exemplars of wisdom and fear of the Lord. society in which the elderly were held in respect. Most biblical people did not reach the kind of old age that has become common at least in the U.S.A. and parts of Europe since 1950. And so in searching the Scriptures for wisdom on aging and the elderly we need to face from the start the differences between the Old Testament world and our own. We live in a society with little respect for tradition and social .status based on age, and with a great demandfor material productivity and accom-plishment. Moreover, our expanding life spans may be creating problems and possibilities that the bib-lical writers never imagined. Nevertheless, the Bible can contribute to developing a theology of aging today despite these obvious differences. Whatever one makes out of the life spans attributed to the patriarchs in Genesis 5 (930 years for Adam, 912 for Seth, 905 for Enosh, and so on), ordinary Israelites in the period covered in the his-torical books lived much shorter lives. It is safe to say that the lower classes lived between thirty years and fifty years (if they reached adulthood), that aris-tocrats lived between forty and sixty years, and that all regarded a life between seventy and eighty years as an elusive ideal. It was assumed that the elderly showed signs of aging (gray hair, beards for men), and began to experience physical infirmities. The com-mandment to honor one's parents in the Decalogue (Ex 20:12; Dt 5:16) was understood as applying primarily to adults and as urging them to care for their aging parents. It was regarded as a social norm and a divine command to respect older people: "You shall rise before the aged, and defer to the old; and you shall fear your God: 'I am the Lord'" (Lv 19:32). The elderly themselves were expected to be exemplars of wis-dom and fear of the Lord. Male and female elders had the task and privilege of handing on the social and religious tradit~ions. The critical treatments of elders in .lob and Qoheleth only serve to emphasize that in this traditional society the elderly were sup-posed to have an important place. As the testament-of-Jacob scene (see Gn 49) shows, the ideal was to die surrounded by many off-spring and to hand on property and land to one's children. The positive picture of old age in the Old Testament tradition is best stated in a block of random sayings in Sirach 25:3-6. Ben ' Sira, a wisdom teacher of Jerusalem around 200 B.C., concluded Review for Religious his lists of pleasant and hateful things (25:1-2) by expressing a loathing for "an old fool who commits adultery." By a thematic connection he then outlines some positive teachings about aging and the elderly: 3. If you gathered nothing in your youth, how can you find anything in our old age? 4. How attractive is sound judg-ment in the gray-haired, and for the aged to possess good counsel! 5. How attractive is wisdom in the aged, and under-standing and counsel in the venerable! 6. Rich experience is the crown of the aged, and their boast is the fear of the Lord. The three sayings (25:3, 4-5, 6) are only loosely connected by subject matter. The first saying (25:3) makes the point that the quality of one's old age--wise or foolish--grows out of the quality of one's youth. A foolish young person will probably grow into a foolish old person. The mere fact of old age does not work a drastic personal transformation. The second saying (25:4-5) lists the ideal characteristics of the elderly as sound judgment, good counsel, wisdom, and under-standing. These characteristics are basically synonyms; they all refer to the wisdom that is attractive in all people, especially in the elderly. The third saying (2 5:6) acknowledges the life experience of the elderly as a "crown" and holds out as the most important quality of the elderly the "fear of the Lord." Fear of the Lord is one of the chief themes in the biblical wisdom books and in Sirach in particular. It proceeds from an accurate assessment of who God is and who we are before God. It is not the fear that proceeds from anxiety and issues in avoidance or flight. Rather, it refers to the respect and awe that God deserves. That attitude of respect is the beginning of wisdom (see Si 1:14). From it, according to Ben Sira and the other sages, will flow whatever wisdom is necessary for finding one's way through the tests and trials of life. Wisdom and fear of the Lord are two sides of the same coin and express the positive ideal of aging in the Bible. The negative aspects of old age are best described in another wisdom book, Qoheleth (or Ecclesiastes). Here the focus is the decrepitude and death that are part of old age. In the final chap-ter (12) of his book, Qoheleth has clothed a depressing message in a series of exquisitely drawn images. The message is that old age means loss of pleasure, physical infirmity, fear, and death. Qoheleth's picture of the afterlife is shadowy at best: "The dead March-April 1996 Harrington ¯ Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging know nothing; they have no more reward, and even the memory of them is lost" (9:5). So for him the death that accompanies old age is all the more final. 1. Remember your creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come, and the years draw near when you will say, "I have no pleasure in them"; 2. before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars are darkened and the clouds return with the rain; 3. in the day when the guards of the house tremble, and the strong men are bent, and the women who grind cease working because they are few, and those who look through the windows see dimly; 4. when the doors on the street are shut, and the sound of the grinding is low, and one rises up at the sound of a bird, and all the daughters of song are brought low; 5. when one is afraid of heights, and terrors are in the road; the almond tree blossoms, the grasshopper drags itself along and desire fails; because all must go to their eternal home, and the mourners will go about the streets; 6. before the silver cord is snapped, and the golden bowl is broken, and the pitcher is broken at.the fountain, and the wheel broken at the cis-tern, 7. and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the breath returns to God who gave it. 8 Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher; all is vanity. The one addressed is urged to face the negative realities of old age ("days of trouble") when even the prospect of the years to come gives no pleasure and life seems to be dark and stormy (12:1-2). In a beautiful but disquieting set of images Qoheleth compares the process of aging to the decay of a house fallen into disrepair (12:3-4): loss of eyesight and hearing, loss of teeth with which to chew, and inability to sleep soundly. Then with other images he calls attention to the fear, the loss of desire, and the obsession with death that can be part of old age (12:5). Death is described with images of breaking the silver cord, the golden bowl, the pitcher, and the wheel (12:6). In death the body becomes dust and returns to the earth, while the breath "returns to God who gave it" (12:7), not to immortality or resurrection but at best to the shadowy existence described in 9:5. Death, like all of life (see 1:1- 11), is empty, mere "wind," without lasting substance (12:8). Old age as Qoheleth paints it with his marvelous images is painful and depressing. Young people should enjoy life while they can. The ideal of old age is fullness of wisdom and fear of the Lord (Si 25:3-6). The reality of old age may well involve bodily infir-mity, loss of physical and emotional powers, and fear; death is Review Jbr Religious inevitable (Qoh 12:1-8). In the Jewish tradition it is the duty of adult children to care for their aging parents. That obligation is clearly stated in the Decalogue: "Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you" (Ex 20:12; Dt 5:16). Starting from the commandment in the Decalogue, Ben Sira in Sirach 3:1-16 presents an instruction on the duties of adult children to their aging parents. After addressing his pupils as a father addresses a son (3:1), he gives some reasons why children should care for their parents: 1. Listen to me your father, O children; act accordingly, that you may be kept in safety. 2. For the Lord honors a father above his children, and he confirms a mother's right over her children. 3. Those who honor their father atone for sins, 4. and those who respect their mother are like those who lay up treasure. 5. Those who honor their father will have joy in their own children, and when they pray they will be heard. 6. Those who respect their father will have a long life, and those who honor their mother obey the Lord; 7. they will serve their parents as their masters. Caring for one's elderly parents conforms to the divine order of creation (3:2), atones for sins and merits spiritual treasures (3:3-4), gives good example to one's own children (3:5a), ensures that one's prayers will be heard (3:5b) and that one will live a long life (3:6a), and honors God (3:6b). Ben Sira (and all the biblical writers) lived in a society in which honor and shame were important values. How one appeared to others and in relation to them was very significant, far more so than in our modern individualistic cultures. Failure to honor one's parents brings a curse from them and disgrace in the eyes of others: 8. Honor your father by word and deed, that his blessing may come upon you. 9. For a father's blessing strengthens the houses of the children, but a mother's curse uproots their foundations. 10. Do not glorify yourself by dishon-oring your father, for your father's dishonor is no glory to you. 11. The glory of one's father is one's own glory, and it is a disgrace for children not to respect their mother. The final part (3:12-16) of Ben Sira's instruction gives par-ticular attention to the situation of caring for a parent who loses mental abilities ("even if his mind fails"). It recommends patience and fidelity and promises a reward from God: March-April 1996 Harrington ¯ Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging 12. My child, help your father in his old age, and do not grieve him as long as he lives; 13. even if his mind fails, be patient with him; because you have all your faculties do not despise him. 14. For kindness to a fathe~ will not be for-gotten, and will be credited to you against your sins; 15. in the day of your distress it will be remembered in your favor; like frost in fair weather, your sins will melt away. 16. Whoever forsakes a father is like a blasphemer, and whoever angers a mother is cursed by the Lord. Ben Sira's insistence on care for one's parents as leading to forgiveness of sins (3.'3, 14) is especially interesting in light of his own shadowy concepts of afterlife and his enthusiastic support for the Temple's system of sin-offerings and sacrifices. He appar-ently regarded faithful and patient service of one's parents as a privileged way of atoning for one's sins in this life. The three wisdom texts that we have looked at say much of what there is to say about old age and the elderly in the Old Testament. Indeed, they summarize most of the wisdom about these topics outside the Bible and into the present. Their con-tent would have been taken for granted by people in New Testament times. New Testament Perspectives The New Testament does not explicitly offer new and radically different teachings on aging and the elderly. What it does offer is an outline of spirituality that can help aging people and others to confront the reality of old age in faith and confidence. The Old Testament story of salvation began with God's call to Abraham in Genesis 12 and the promise to make of his descen-dants % great nation." We are told that Abraham was seventy-five years old when he departed from Haran (12:4). God's promise was then fulfilled through the birth of Isaac when "Abraham and Sarah were old, advanced in age" (18:11). Thus the history of God's people begins in an unlikely and improbable way--from a child born to a very old couple (21:5). According to Luke, the story of salvation through Jesus Christ began with the elderly couple Zechariah and Elizabeth and with the birth of John the Baptist to them. Likewise, the birth of Jesus is properly evaluated and proclaimed by Simeon and Anna in the Jerusalem Temple. These two figures represent the best features of Old Testament piety. Simeon is described as "righteous and Review for Religiotls devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel" (Lk 2:25). He is granted the privilege of seeing and proclaiming the newborn Messiah before his death: "Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace." (Lk 2:29). Anna also, at the age of eighty-four, culminates a long life of piety by praising God and speaking "about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem" (2:38). These two elderly representatives of God's people see in the child Jesus what the religious and political lead-ers of Israel failed to see in Jesus the adult. It is intriguing that elderly people--Abraham and Sarah-- begin the history of salvation according to Genesis, and that elderly people-~Zechariah and Elizabeth, and Simeon and Anna-- recognize clearly the new and definitive chapter in this history that began with the birth of Jesus. These elderly people exem-plify the wisdom and fear of the Lord that are the biblical ideals of old age. They speak the language of the Scriptures (especially Second Isaiah) to proclaim eschatological fullness in Jesus the Messiah. Their openness to God and trust in God allow God to use them as unlikely instruments in the history of salvation. The ways of God are very surprising. While Simeon and Anna provide positive models for elderly people who are serious about the surprising ways of God, we can-not disregard the negative aspects of old age so well described by Qoheleth. Although the New Testament does not deal explicitly with this topic, there are New Testament texts that speak elo-quently to us as we face the physical infirmities and fears that accompany old age. Like Ben Sira and Qoheleth, Jesus was a wisdom teacher. One of the earliest and most eloquent teachings we have from Jesus is his instruction about dealing with anxiety in Luke 12:22-31 (see Mt 6:25-34): 22. He said to his disciples, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. 23. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. 24. Consider the ravens: they nei-ther sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! 25. And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? 26. If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? 27. Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. 28. But if God so clothes the Marcb-~lpril 1996 Ha~ngton ¯ Biblical Cont~butions to a Theology of Aging grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you-- you of little faith! 29. And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. 30. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. 31. Insteakl strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given ~o you as well. Though not directly addressed to elderly people, this instruc-tion concerns issues and questions that disturb elderly people especially: How long will I live? What will I eat? What about my health? What will I.wear? Jesus deals with these issues on two fronts. On the one hand, he exposes the futility of anxiety: It does not achieve anything positive (see 12:25-26). Simply telling peo-ple not to worry is not enough to combat anxiety. Jesus places before us some positive considerations about God's care for us and about God's kingdom as the goal of our lives. He first insists that life is more than food or clothing (12:23), and then urges us to consider how God feeds the birds (12:24) and clothes the lilies in splendor (12:27-28). If God so cares for birds and flowers, how much more does God care for us human beings. Jesus reminds us that God already knows what we need (12:30). The primary goal should be striving for God's kingdom, and everything else will fall into place. (12:31). There is great wisdom in this instruction, and it is particularly pertinent to elderly people. But sometimes anxiety turns into reality. Few of us leave this world without experiencing physical or emotional suffering. Here the apostle Paul has some eloquent things to say. Paul took over early Christian formulas of faith that describe Jesus' suffering and death as "for us" or "for our sins" (see Rm 3:25-26; 1 Co 11:24; 15:3). He himself used similar formulas as a matter of course (see Rm 5:6; 14:15; 2 Co 5:14,'21; Ga 1:4; 3:13). These expressions affirm that Jesus as God's servant (see Is 52:13-53:12) suffered and died on our behalf, and so made available to all--Jews and Gentiles alike--right relationship with God and the possibility of eternal salvation. We are saved through Christ's suffering. According to Paul, Christian life involves participation in Jesus' suffering and death as well as his resurrection: "We have been buried with him by baptism into death" (Rm 6:4). This shar-ing continues after baptism: "For just as the sufferings of Christ are abundant for us, so also our consolation is abundant through Christ" (2 Co 1:5). Elsewhere Paul says that we always carry "in Review for Religious the body the death of Jesus" (2 Co 4:10). Paul's ideal for himself and for every Christian is to be "conformed" to Christ; that is, to take on the very "shape" (morphe) of Christ: "I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his suf-ferings by becoming like him in his death" (Ph 3:10). For mil-lions of suffering Christians, identification with Christ and participation in his sufferings have provided meaning and comfort in the midst of suffer-ing, and still do. In the Deuteropauline letter to the Colossians the theme of sharing Christ's suf-ferings takes an unusual turn: "In my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church" (Col 1:24). This cannot mean that there is something deficient in the rec-onciliation brought about by Jesus' death and resurrection. The whole New Testament and Colossians 1:19-20 in particular stress the sufficiency of Jesus' sacrificial death. What then does Paul's suffering fill up? The key expression is "Christ's afflictions," or, more accurately, the "tribu-lations (or, woes) of the Messiah." According to contemporary Jewish texts (I Enoch 47:1-4; 2 Baruch 30:2) God has set a limit to the tribulations associated with the Messiah's coming. The state-ment in Colossians 1:24 applies Paul's sufferings to that fixed amount of suffering that must occur before God's kingdom arrives in its fullness. Thus Paul's suffering shortens the time before the fullness of God's kingdom (see Mk 13:20) and contributes to the faster vindication of God's church. This text, which has been a great inspiration to suffering (elderly or not) people, needs to be understood in its proper theological and historical context. Other Pauline texts provide important advice for elderly per-sons (and others) who suffer. In 2 Corinthians 12, Paul, in answer-ing the critics of his ministry as an apostle, boasts about his weaknesses rather than about his strengths and accomplishments. He does so on the basis of what the Lord said to him: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Co 12:9). In a world that associates power with strength, Paul reminds us that the true power of God is manifested most bril-liantly in the weak---as was the case with Abraham and Sarah, and with Simeon and Anna. Few of us leave this world without experiencing physical or emotional suffering. March-April 1996 Harrington ¯ Biblical Contributio~.~n~.to~ Tb__eo,~lo.~f~A.~n,.g' Eternal life for Christians, according to Paul, begins with baptism, since eternal life comes from participating in Jesus' death and resurrection (see Rm 6:1-11). Therefore death and sin no longer exercise absolute dominion over us. We are already living our eternal life. It does not begin at the moment of our death. The line between physical life and physical death is no longer de

Issue 55.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1996. ; lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and.apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLUVCA.SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, ,\IN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1996 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for ~:ommercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER/DECEMBER 1996 * VOLUME55 Q NUMBER6 contents directions 566 583 The Dialogue of Conversion: Toward Jubilee 2000 Jeffrey Gros FSC proposes ways in which religious communities can participate in the ecumenical dimension of preparing for and celebrating the bimillenary jubilee of the incarnation. A Way of Being Church: Journey, Serve, and Evangelize Erik Karl Riechers SAC explains the Union of Catholic Apostolate as a Pallottine family model for sharing a spirituality and ministry. models 593 Frances Cabrini: A Woman for Today Rita E. Goldman paints a w~rm and human portrait of Frances Cabrini as we celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of her canonization. 601 The Cistercian Martyrs of Algeria, 1996 M. Basil Pennington OCSO relates the story of the seven Cistercians who were abducted and killed in Algeria. Review for Religious life and death 613 619 Death Questions and Life Questions Cathy Arata SSND builds upon her apostolic experience in E1 Salvador in facing the hard questions of life. Prophetic Sorrow a Sign of the Times Beverly Anne LoGrasso OSU presents the Ursuline community's grief response to the rape and murder of two of their sisters. consecrated life 625 640 Full of Grace: Another Look at the 19th-Century Nun Dolores Liptak RSM relates the congregational stories of the 19th-century American sisters who transformed negative images and made of their own lives powerfully attractive invitations for service. "Objective Superiority" in Vita Consecrata Dennis J. Billy CSSR critiques the phrase "objective superiority" and presents an interpretation in the context of both Vatican II documents and Vita consecrata. 564 646 651 departments Prisms L.,'¢~,-s Canonical Counsel: Canon. 127 Technical Requirements for Advice or Consent Book Reviews 666 Indexes to Volume 55 November-December 1996 prisms Life and death issues are always with us. At times they touch more poignantly into our experience. Traditionally the November liturgical calen-dar is~ associated with death since we begin by remem-bering all the faithful departed and through the Sunday Eucharists we face somber scripture readings about the end times. December's liturgical calendar, on the other hand, looks more to life, celebrating Mary's conception as the "immaculate one" within a hope,filled Advent sea-son which culminates with the star-bright birth of Jesus our Savior. Prisms provided by life and death issues-have us face the God- and faith-questions in our lives. They are prisms necessary if we are to value realistically who we are, who we are becoming, and what we do, what happens to us. God provides us with many other prisms which help us see and appreciate the everyday richness of our lives and ministries as Christian men and women. Some people seem to little appreciate that we all use prisms to view life, accept values, and relate to God. Perhaps many of us fail to make use of the variety of prisms available through which to develop a more ade-quate and vibrant understanding of God, self, church, and world. Rather, some seem to choose to look at life through a single monochromatic lens or through a spattered one that allows only darkness and light and voids the rich sub-tlety of dawn and sunset beauty. Christmas presents us with an ever startling prism through which we see God's presence to ourselves and our world. We celebrate God's dialogue with us through the Word by whom all things came into being and in whom we find life. In listening to John's majestic pro- Review for Religious logue about the Word becoming flesh, I find the imagery of prisms and of dialogue all of a piece. John Paul II says, "By dialogue we let God be present in our midst; for as we open ourselves in dia- 'logue to one another, we also open ourselves to God." Dialogue-- entering into the presence of the Word--is similar to the various prisms of creation which allow us to truly seek and find a labor-ing God active in our world. Paul VI, too, had boldly proclaimed that "dialogue is a new way of being church." Drawing upon the imagery of the Word made flesh, he was reclaiming evangelization as an essential ele-ment of living ~the Christian life. Just as some people close them-selves from appreciating God's pervasive love that is visible in creation only through a variety of prisms, we can be people closed to the call to be church through dialogue. We can talk only to those people who think exactly as we do. We can read nothing that would challenge 6r broaden our mind-set. We can ,enter into conversation not to listen or to learn, but only to accept agreement or refute and "win the day." Not only evangelization, but life itself is being closed down--with other~ and so with God. It can happen to any of us--bishop, priest, religious, or layperson--who may claim the possession of truth in such a way that dialogue is neither possible nor desired. Every Christmas morn faces' us with this question: How do we find the Word in a manger--today? Like shepherds on the watch or like teachable magi, are we avail-able to an alien messenger's voice for direction or to a light from afar to help guide our way? As we approach the third,.millennium, John Paul has indi-cated that dialogue encouraged by the church is fourfold: the dia-logue of life found in people's sharing as neighbors, the dialogue of actioti collaborating for a world more humfin and more divine, the dialogue of sharing the riches of offr spiritual experience and helping one another find the Absolute, the dialogue of special-ists exchanging theologiFal insights to deepen understanding and appreciation of religious heritages and spiritual values. No one of us can remain aloof today from at least some aspects of this fourfold dialogue. Dialoguemprivileged prisms in our Christian responsibility to be neighbors, ecumenists, and evangelists! All of us who dialogue with you our readers in each issue of this journal pray that you be blessed with many grace-illumined prisms .coloring your Christmas season. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 1996 directions JEFFREY GROS The Dialogue of Conversion: Toward Jubilee 2000 Zeal for the unity of the church is central to Roman Catholic spirituality. As Christians move, toward the cel-ebration of the opening of the third millennium, we have been called to gospel, renewal in all dimensions of church life, especially church unity: "Among the most fervent petitions which the church makes., is that unity among all Christians of the various confessions will increase until they reach full communion.''1 For religious this is a particularly opportune moment for service in the church. Prayer, conversion, and spiri-tual renewal--to which religious have long known them-selves to be consciously called--are essential for understanding and engaging in the church's ecumenical commitment: "Concern for restoring unity pertains to the whole church, faithful and clergy alike. It extendS to every-one, according to the ability of each, whether it be exer-cised in daily Christian living or in. theological and historical studies.''2 This is a special time .for renewal of commitments already made and for deepening the knowledge, dialogue, and prayer that will serve the unity for which Christ prayed. This .essay will suggest how religious communities, especially communities of contemplative and retired per- Jeffrey Gros FSC writes from the National Conference of Catholic Bishops' Secretariat for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs; 3211 4th Street, N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017. Review for Religious sons, can participate in the ecumenical dimension of preparing for and celebrating the bimillenary jubilee of the incarnation (see Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation dated 25 March 1996, Vita consecrata §44). After the brief introduction, we will discuss~ (1) the jubilee theme and its preparation, (2) a schedule of prayer, (3) a program of spiritual reading, and (4) the ministry of hospitality for dialogue. Of course, the social-justice and evange-lization elements suggested for jubilee preparation also entail ecumenical dimen-sions and possibilities. The reception of the results of ecumenical dialogues is a key element in the new evangelization of which Pope John Paul so frequently speaks. With the publication of Directory for the Application of Principles and Norms on Ecumenism, religious communities have been challenged to set up commissiofis within their institutes and appoint coor-dinators for ecumenical leadership.3 Obviously the tasks of such a commission and coordinator can begin with seeing to the ecumenical component of initial and continuing formation and with applying the directory's suggestions to hospitals, schools, retreat centers, social-service and advocacy, programs, and the many other are~is where religious provide leadership and witness. Vim consecrata further spells out ways that religious can contribute to church unity (§§2, 100, and 101). However, the publication of the apostolic letter Tertio millen-nio adveniente, with its detailed program leading up to the year 2000, gives such commissions an opportunity to design a prayer cycle and educational program that can enable all, especially retired religious, to participatei a.ccording to their station in life. Obviously, diocesan ecumenical officers and local ecumenical agencies can be of great help in such planning and' implementa-tion in the communities. The specificity of the Holy Father's pro-gram lends itself to rich adaptation in local communities. The publication of the encyclical Ut unum sint, with its enthu-siasm and rich spiritual emphasis, provides a significant resource for religious community reflection. As Pope John Paul notes in the The publication of the encyclical Ut unum sint, with its enthusiasm and rich spiritual emphasis, provides a significant resource for religious community reflection. November-December 1996 Gros ¯ The Dialogue of Conversion . encycl!¢.al: "A new task lies before us: that of receiving the results already achieved," which "must involve the whole people of God" (§80). The five years in preparation provide the church an oppor-tunity to pray and reflect over the results offered to the church for reception: "With regard to other Christians, the principal docu-ments of the Commission on Faith and Order [of the World Council of Churches] and the statements of numerous bilateral dialogues have already provided Christian communities with use-ful tools for discerning what is necessary to the ecumenical move-ment and to the conversion it must inspire" (UUS §17). These statements can find their way into the spiritual reading, prayer, and discussion of religious communities during the course, of the years of preparation for the jubilee celebration. The Jubilee Theme In the pope's letter on the jubilee, he emphasizes the social-justice implications of reordering society implicit in the theme selected, Leviticus 25, which recounts the biblical jubilee in which captives and slaves are liberated, land redistributed, and relations among God's people reordered. In addition to unity among Christians, conversion to a' new way of viewing society and widespread study of the church's social teaching are essential ele-ments. The World Council of Churches has already selected this same text, °under the theme "Return to God, Rejoice in Hope," for its fiftieth jubilee, to be celebrated at its 1998 assembly in Africa, In the first section of the pope's letter, he addresses the ques-tion of God's will .for the church, remarking that ~'Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today," and in the second section he lays out his own philosophy of Christian history, which is based on the theology of the incarnation. Within this theological and his-torical context, he elaborates in the third section his vision of the jubilee preparation and, in the fourth, its specific stages. We will enumerate some of the ecumenical challenges and resources that come into play on the road toward the realization of this hope. We present the stages of preparation. There are five specific stages proposed for the years between the letter's publication and the jubilee. The first phase is remote preparation, 1994-1996. It includes reflection on sinfulness and the need of repentance, iden-tification of the difficulties on both sides of the sinful divisions in the church, preparation of a program of prayer for the Holy Review for Religious Spirit's gift of unity, "the promoting of fitting ecumenical initia-tives," and repentance for acts of violence and intolerance. This will entail careful historical study and reconciliation of memories (UUS §2). For this, members of religious orders and institutes may wish to look into their own histories to discern what role their predecessors may have played in the negative his-tory of relations among churches and religious groups. They can be led by the examples of religious orders (Oblates and Jesuits) during the celebrations of the 500th anniversary of the European discovery of the Americas. Also there will be attempts to deal with the religious indifference, the widespread loss of percep-tions of transcendence, and the crisis of obedience that are the experience of our time. Finally, there will be an attempt to create an ecumenical martyrology of common heroes in the faith who have suffered and whose commitment to the cross of Christ can bring us into deeper unity with one another (UUS §84). Again, religious orders and institutes may figure prominently on these lists, particularly members who gave their lives in the past fifty years in the common struggle against communism and totalitar-ianism. This remote preparation will be followed by three years devoted to specific themes: (1) 1997 will be devoted to Christ, recalling the common baptism in which all Christians share and which is the root of .the real, if yet imperfect, communion .that supports our common pilgrimage toward full unity. (2) 1998 will focus on the Holy Spirit .fostering the many charisms of the peo-ple of God, linking Christians of the northern and southern hemi-spheres, and giving strong impetus toward church unity. This will also be the year of the World Council Assembly. Catholic engage-ment in this jubilee celebration and its preparation can be integral to the program of the churches moving together toward the year 2000, (3) 1999 will be devoted to God the Father, with a focus on penance, the preferential option for the poor, the dialogue of cul-tures, and women's rights. In this year the Holy Father suggests an interreligious focus, especially with our fellow monotheists, Jews and Muslims. Here the leadership of Pope John Paul is well ahead of the church as a whole,.with his pastoral visits, his gath-erings of religious leaders in Rome and Assisi, and his Vatican documents and addresses on dialogue.4 Finally, the jubilee itself is to be planned "and carefully pre-pared in an attitude of fraternal cooperation with Christians of November-December 1996 Gros ¯ The Dialogue of Conversion other denominations and traditions, as well as of grateful openness to those religions whose representatives might wish to acknowl-edge the joy shared by all the disciples of Christ" (TMA §55). Certainly such an ambitious project ~will take skill in dialogue and outreach at ever} level of Catholic life, building on the thirty years of developing bonds of trust and affection among the churches. Religious have a significant contribution to make on this spiritual journey. ~, Prayer Cycle in therJubilee Preparation ¯ Some will participate actively in the planning and designing of the jubilee events and the engagement of the Catholic and ecu-menical communities in the dialogues, prayer opportunities, and 'study that will contribute to reconciliation. However, all religious can participate in prayer, which is at the very center of ecumeni-cal activity. In this section we will suggest particular themes according to the years leading up to the jubilee and, in the next, themes for spiritual reading which can enhance the prayer. A province or community can ask some of its members to work with some ecumenical partners to develop a set of petitions for prayer ,during the course of each year, and possibly to draw on the prayer resources of the partners.'If it is feasible, a religious com-munity can invite a leader from another church, or even a number of members of the congregation, for common prayer and reflection. Such prayer arrangemen.ts can be more or less detailed, depending on the prayer styles and flexibility of different communities,s During the time focused on early preparation and repentance, the encyclical Ut unum sint and the apostolic letter Tertio millen-nio adveniente can be reviewed to develop prayer intentions, read-ings, and themes. The themes of charity and conversion,the common martyrology, and the healing of memories all provide material for prayer of .thanksgiving, repentance, and petition to dispose the community .for the journey toward the jubilee cele-bration andthe fostering of closer Christian relationships, Specific prayers and readings on the communion (koinonia) among the churches and the goal of full communion can be drawn from World Council resources.6 General agreements on such themes as Scripture and Tradition, Eucharist and Ministry, Authority and Teaching, and Mary can provide a prayerful preparation for more specific intentions as the jubilee draws closer. Review for Religious The year 1996, because it calls specifically for the Roman Catholic Church to recall its own failures and to repent its own complicity in the divisions among Christians, might well focus on the African American churches and the peace churches (the Brethren, Hutterites, Mennonites, and Quakers). Slavery and the continuing racism and violence in American society make it par-ticularly appropriate to pray.with and for these two groups of churches in repentance, confession, reconcilia-tion, and thanksgiving.7 The historic peace churches have been persecuted by members of almost all the churches, including Roman Catholics, because of their refusal to compromise with state-sponsored and church-legitimated violence. We should not only pray for and with these Christians, but also let our prayers and actions for peace benefit from their spirituality and the discipline of their nonviolent lifestyle. Because these churches are small, it may not be easy to find members in each community, but their spiritual literature is rich and widely available. Christ, our common baptism, and the grace we share with other Christians will be emphasized in 1997. During this year, the 450th anniversary of the Council of Trent's, Decrees on Justification, it is hoped that Roman Catholics and Lutherans can proclaim, in a binding joint declaration, a common understand-ing of Christ's justifying grace received in faith by Christians. If such an agreement on grace, sin, merit, and faith were to be suc-cessful, it would be a great contribution to our common spiritual life and a basis for effective movement beyond the 16th centur)i's condemnations. Prayer for and with the Lutheran churches, for the success of such an agreement and for the influence it could have on the life of church members, and quiet meditation on the meaning of God's love in Jesus Christ, as proclaimed especially in Paul's Letter to the Romans, can make this a year that sees our commitment to Christ renewed and our full .communion with the Lutheran churches realized. The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America will also be considering proposals for full communion with Episcopalians and with three Reformed or Calvinist churches: Presbyterian, United Christ, our common baptism, and the grace we share with other Christians will be emphasized in 1997. November-December 1996 Gros * The Dialogue of Conversion Church of Christ, and Reformed Church in America. These hopes and proposals for reconciliation will suggest opportunities for prayer and reflection too. Wherever Christ's will for the unity of the church is being realized, spiritually sensitive Catholics will be prayerfully attentive. During this year we can als0 include in our prayers the Eastern and Oriental Orthodox Churches and the Assyrian Church of the East. These three traditions all share with us the sacraments and bishops in the apostolic succession; a common Trinitarian and Christological faith, some elements of which have been clarified only recently in ecumenical dialogue; and a common understanding of the catholic demands of full communion in a visible, sacramental church. Existing tensions, however, especially in Eastern Europe .but also occasionally in the Middle East, Africa, and Asia, call for sensitivity, repentance, and reconciliation. Prayer for particular Orthodox and Catholic churches around the world, for their peace and reconciliation, is an important contribution to Christ's will for unity. The rich liturgical traditions of the Christian East can provide resources for community prayer and celebration for and with these churches. During 1997 we can also focus prayer on our relationship with Episcopalians and Anglicans worldwide. We share many spir-itual gifts. The dialogue has moved forward with unexpected pos-itive results, so much so that in 1994 the Holy See could say that "no further work" was necessary at this time on the theology of Eucharist and ministry, indicating that the agreements produced to date and the subsequent clarifications show a common faith as regards these two areas of our life. Obviously, the question of women's ordination and under-standings of authority and papal primacy are still under discussion. The Archbishop of Canterbury indicated, on behalf of the Anglican communion, a willingness to accept Pope John Paul's 1995 invitation to talk about how the papacy can be renewed to better serve the unity of the church. Regarding all the progress made to date, there is much for which to be grateful; for the broad common heritage of spirituality, there is much to celebrate; and, in anticipation of future steps toward full communion, there is much for which we must pray. The Episcopal Book of Common Prayer provides many resources for prayer in our religious com-munities as we yearn for the day when full Eucharistic communion can be celebrated together. Review for Religious The year 1998 will be characterized by the celebration of the Assembly of the World Council of Churches. This is an oppor-tunity to make use of the Bible-study and prayer materials that will be produced for the occasion.8 This will also be a year dedicated to the Holy Spirit, to the role of the laity, and to enhanced rela-tions between peoples in the northern and southern hemispheres. It will be a year to raise up special prayers for the Roman Synod for the Americas and its contributions to Christian reconciliation and a year for leadership by laypersons in ecu-menism. There are local ecumenical confer-ences and agencies that can provide partners in getting prayer materials ready to help com-munities focus on the churches' common wit-ness in their immediate areas. In particular, with the year dedicated to the Holy Spirit, religious communities may wish to pray with and for various Protestant churches with which the Catholic Church is committed to full communion. United Methodists, Presbyterians, the United Church of 'Christ, Disciples of Christ, and the Reformed Church in America all participate in dialogues with the Roman Catholic Church with the hope of full communion. Most of these churches have participated with the Catholic Church in the liturgical move-ment and have common prayers and liturgical texts that can form the basis for prayer services. Their local representatives and mem-bers of religious communifies could profitably share with one another their common or different experiences and perceptions of their church life. Our relationships with some other churches look, at this time, more toward mutual understanding than toward full sacramental communion. The year 1998 should provide opportunities for prayer for and with Baptists, Pentecostals, and other independent Evangelical churches. More often than with them, we may find ourselves prayingJbr them and for their conversion to an open communication and dialogue with the Roman Catholic and other Christian churches. However, some of these Christians may be willing to pray with us even if there are few other areas of col-laboration to which they would be open. Pope John Paul suggests that 1999 be dedicated to the Father The year 1998 will be characterized by the celebration of the Assembly of the World Council of Churches. November-December 1996 Gros ¯ The Dialogue of Conversion and to interreligious dialogue. We can pray particularly for Jews and Muslims and engage in common prayer when this is possible. While there are some fine resources available for Christian and Jewish prayer, little has been produced for local use in interfaith worship.? Care should be taken to produce any materials jointly with those with whom prayer is planned. The diocesan ecumeni-cal officer can assist. As with Christian groups, this can be a time of reflecting on the sad heritage of past relationships (here, for example, the cru-sades, the inquisition, the holocaust) as we move through repen-tance to reconciliation and solidarity. This is a time when one can raise i~rayers to God for other families of faith and draw on some of their traditions, like Hindu yoga and Buddhist meditation, to enrich our own Christian prayer life. Also during this year, prayerful reflection on the poor, on the roles of women, and on the maternal aspects of God can nourish the spirituality and prayer life of communities and individual religious. Finally, the year 2000 is devoted to the anniversary of the incarnation, with the Holy Father hoping for a major ecumenical gathering in Jerusalem, an interfaith gathering (possibly at Mr. Sinai), and planning a Roman Catholic Eucharistic gathering in Rome. During this year, thought and prayer can look towards the harvest time, when the years of ecumenical dialogue and prayer yield their fruit: a thoroughgoing ecumenical council of Orthodox, Anglican, Roman Catholic, and Protestant Christians celebrat-ing full communion. The fruit of much prayer and study can show itself in local prayer meetings and events of celebration. On the first Sunday of Advent there will be a celebration of reconciliation in the United States for several Protestant. churches that will come together, after forty years of dialogue, to become the Church of Christ Uniting (COCU). Prayers for and with these churches for the Holy Spirit's blessing on this venture will be impor~tant for all Christians. During this period before the event, the Episcopal, Presbyterian, United Methodist, African Methodist Episcopal, Christian Methodist Episcopal, and the African Methodist Episcopal Zion churches and the United Church of Christ, the Disciples of Christ, and the International Council of Community Churches will be deciding whether they are ready for this step toward full communion. Catholics can join with these Christians in prayer as they walk the path towarO unity. Catholics can be with them in longing for Review for Relig4ous the day when more Christian churches join in similar celebra-tions of full communion. Spiritual Reading in Preparat~ion for the Jubilee As a time of prayer before the great celebration of the incar-nation, these five years can include reflection informed by read-ing that serves the same goal of deepened conversion to Christ's will for the unity of the' church. The practical suggestions here will touch three levels of reading: church documents, ecumenical doc- ¯ uments, and more general spiritual-reading resources. Partners from other churches and communities, if they are familiar with their own spiritual traditions, can provide appropriate sugges-tions to meet particular spiritual needs. While there are many church documents that can provide understanding and stimulus for our prayer life, only four recent texts will be suggested here. The most useful may be the encycli-cal Ut unum sint because of its spiritual core and the enthusiasm with which it is written. Like all of the encyclicals of Pope John Paul, it includes much that is.familiar to those following the ecu-menical movement over the'last thirty years. However, if a para-graph or two are taken for meditative reading each day, with reflection on how the pope's comments relate to one's own expe-rience~ and how one is challenged by the values he lays out, this text can be of significant help. The Holy Father's emphasis on renewal of the individual and the church, on the centrality of prayer and dialogue to nourish prayer, on the dialogues of con-version and charity, on the centrality of love and truth, on the reception and celebration of gifts from others, and on openness to repentance and change, all provide profound opportunities for conversation with God about his will for us and for the church. The apostolic letter Tertio millennio adveniente is of a different character. Its first two sections, on theology and history, are rather dense. Careful reading, however, and even exploring of events and ideas laid out here and in the rest of the letter will be a help-ful orientation as one begins these five carefully programmed years of reflection and prayer. Some of the anniversaries recalled in the second section of the letter will lead us to want to read about certain segments of the Christian community, about certain saints and Christian leaders, and about the development of the church in different cultures. OUr prayer life can be nourished by November-December 1996 Gros * The Dialogue o~ Conversion biography and Christian history as we carry our heritage toward the future. Some may find the other two documents less spiritually nour-ishing since they have a more specific purpose. For those, however, who would choose to reflect on them prayerfully, they have a sig-nificant contribution to make. The Directory for the Application of Principles and Norms on Ecumenism is a more formal document, with theological and juridical content. For those who are involved in leadership or who wish to reflect on the position of the Catholic Church, this text is foundational. The sections on Ecumenical Formation and on Communion in Life and Spiritual Activity pro-~ vide important bases for reflecting on one's community's and one's own spiritual formation and on ministry in the light of what God is doing in the church. The apostolic letter on the churches of the East, Orientale lumen, will help, during the year 1997, in ini-tiating reflection on Christological understandings that have emerged in dialogues and on the spiritual riches of this half of the tradition catholic?° Much of what one finds in this text is also outlined in Ut unum sint. From our dialogues with other churches, we are fortunate to have very rich results to nourish our spiritual reading and our spiritual lives. Though some of these are technical texts, all of them are oriented toward bringing us closer to Christ and his mysteries and to one another in the church God has willed for us. The reconciliation which they are meant to serve is as deeply spiritual as it is theological and institutional. Therefore, it is use-ful for every religious house and spiritual renewal center to have a library where these ecumenical results are available for reading and reflection.11 These documents should facilitate for us a pro-cess of spiritual .reconciliation by giving us a deeper appreciation of the gifts of the other Christian churches and help us make the unity to which they witness a part of our own spiritual life. For each year coming up, there are significant resources for our reading and reflection. In 1996, getting to know the African American and peace churches can enrich our own faith and com-mitment to justice and peace in our spiritual lives.12 In 1997, deci-sions will be before the Catholic and Lutheran churches concerning the doctrine of grace, a focus on Christ's saving love that can renew all Christians.~3 This theme of justification by faith has produced some important spiritual-reading volumes in English.14 The Anglican-Roman Catholic dialogue has already Review for Religious produced some marvelous results that enrich our sacramental understanding.~5 We are fortunate to have the texts of the Orthodox, both Eastern and Oriental, available.~6 For special attention in 1998, various documents already recommended and the specific preparatory materials for that year's World Council Assembly provide ample resources. In this year many could well reflect on the history and future of the churches together in the World Council.17 An extensive set of materials on Christian-Jewish and interreligious dialogue has been developed for reading and reflection; it can be especially useful during 199928 For more general spiritual reading, there is a variety of resources available. For 1996, books on conversion, ecumenical journeys, rec-onciliation, and ecumenical spirituality are widely available29 The African American and peace church traditions provide rich prayer and meditation resources for 1997.20 Spiritual biographies are a way of understanding the spiritual journeys of early and later Orthodox, Anglican, and Protestant Christians. Lives of Luther and resources from Orthodox and Anglican spiritual writ-ers can enrich one's sensitivity and appreciation for these tradi-tions. 2 ~ In 1998 (and earlier too) a wide variety of Bible-study resources will be available from the. World Council of Churches. That would be a year to reflect on the spiritualities of John Calvin, John Wesley, and Roger Williams and on the Christian commu-nities of which they were leaders.22 As a result of Thomas Merton's influence and the East/West monastic dialogue, religious are per-haps more acquainted with some interreligious resources than they are with such ecumenical onesfl3 In any case, 1999 provides an opportunity to deepen and broaden our reading in various living spiritual traditions of world religions.24 Approaches to other believers can, moreover, enrich our understanding of and rela-tionship to fellow Christians of other churches.~5 Finally, the jubilee year itself can be a time of reflection on the hopes of the whole Christian community for an ecumenical coun-cil that will truly unite Orthodox, Catholic, Anglican, and Protestant churches.26 Our prayer life can be nourished by biography and Christian history as we carry our heritage toward the future. Noventber-Decentber 1996 Gros * The Dialogue of Conversion The Ministry of Hospitality Institutional and theological efforts have their contribution to make toward visible unity. More importan( are the spiritual resources that foster zeal for God's will for the church. But the relational dimension of ecumenical spirituality can be realized only by people's concrete experience of the "dialogue of conver-sion" of which Pope John Paul speaks so eloquently in Ut unum sint. These five years provide an opportunity for any.community, no matter how mobile or sedate, to invite fellow Christians of other churches in for prayer, a meal, and possibly a discussion, depending, on people's time and interest (see VC §101). If more care can be given to such an invitation, communities can share some common reading before, the visit and can invite a Christian leader, her or his spouse, and even some members of their church. The ecumenical officers of the diocese can be of particular assis-tance in making these contacts and advising on appropriate ser-vices and programs. Pope John Paul outlines the basis for this dimension of the ecumenical spirituality: , If prayer is the "soul" of ecumenical renewal and of the yearning for unity, it is the basis and support for everything the council defines as dialogue. This definition is certainly not unrelated to today's personalist way of thinking. The capacity for dialogue is rooted in the nature of the person and his dignity. As seen by philosophy, this approach is linked to the Christian truth concerning man as expressed by the council: Man is in fact "th~ only creature on earth which God willed for itself"; thus he cannot "fully find him-self except through a sincere gift of himself." Dialogue is an indispensable step along the path toward human self-real-ization, the self-realization both of each individual and of every human community. Although the concept of dialogue might appear to give priority to the cognitive dimension, all dialogue implies a global, existential dimension. It involves the human subject in his or her entirety; a dialogue between communities involves in a particular way the subjectivity of each. (UUS §28) Religious, with their experience of community and renewal, of dialogue and governance since Vatican II, are in a particularly advantageous position to model and expand this dimension of ecumenical spirituality in preparation for the jubilee. As we Christians move toward the third millennium with hopes of full communion growing ever stronger, we support our Review for Religious prayer with the disciplines of spiritual reading, meditation, com-mon worship, and dialogue. In Vita consecrata the Holy Father calls upon religious to notice their excellent opportunity to con-tribute to the experience of koinonia, which lies at the basis of hopes for full communion among the churches: "A great task also belongs to the consecrated life in the light of the teaching about the church as communion . Consecrated persons are asked to be true experts of communion and to practice the spirituality of communion as 'w.itnesses and architects of the plan for unity which is the crowning point of human history in God's design.' The sense of ecclesial communion, developing into a spirituality of communion, promotes a way of thinking, speaking, and act-ing which enables the church to grow in depth and extension" (VC §46). The first thirty ~,ears of Roman Catholic ecumenical involve-ment have been characterized by getting to know our ecumenical partners and understanding their churches, theology, and spiri-tualities. The theological dialogues have been most productive. In 1997 we are beginning.a third phase of the dialogue,27 This spir-itual journey from dialogue to decision is a spiritual resource that needs to be available to all Catholics. As our relationship with the Lord deepens in preparation for the celebration of his incar-nation, so "in the deep personal dialogue which each of us must carry on with the Lord in' prayer, concern for unity cannot be absent. Only in this way, in fact, will the concern fully become part of the reality of our life and of the commitments we have taken on in the church" (UUS §27). Notes ' John Paul II, Tertio millennio adveniente ("As the Third Millennium Draws Near"), Origins 24, no:' 24 (24 November 1994): §16 (hereafter Ta4A). 2 John Paul II, Ut unum sint ("That All May Be One"), Origins 25, no. 4(8 June 1995): §19 (hereafter UUS). 3 Directory for the Application of Principles and Norms on Ecumenism, Origins 23, no. 9 (29 July 1993): §§50-51. 4 Red}mptoris missio, Origins 20, no. 34 (31 January 1991): §29. s One might suggest a prayer for each year. For example, the Magnificat for 1996 (repentance), the Te Deum for 1997 (Christ), the Veni Sancte Spiritus for 1998 (Holy Spirit), and the Nicene Creed for 1999 (God the Father). November-December 1996 Gro~ ¯ The Dialogue of Conversion 6 Thomas Best and Gtinther Gassmann, eds., On the Way to Fuller Koinonia (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1993). Gtinther Gassmann, ed., Documentary History of Faith and Order: 1963-1993 (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1993). 7 The Office of African-American Catholics provides a kit, Love One Another, including prayer materials that can be used for such services (U.S. Catholic Conference Publishing Services; 3211 4th Street, N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017). Other prayer materials, designed by the African Methodist Episcopal, Christian Methodist Episcopal, and African Methodist Episcopal Zion Churches. Liberation and Unity, for ecumeni-cal Lenten use, is available from Consultation on Church Union; Research Park; 151 Wall Street; Princeton, New Jersey 08540. ~ Available from: World Council of Churches U.S. Office; 475 Riverside Drive;New York, New York 10115; tel. 202-870-2470. 9 H. Schlesinger and H. Porto, Prayers of Blessing and Praise for All Occasions (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third publications, 1987). Leon Klenicki and Bruce Robbins, Jewish and Christians: A Dialogue Service about Prayer (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1995). ~o Orientale lumen, Origins 25, no. 1 (18 May 1995). 11 Lukas Vischer and Harding Meyer, eds., Growth in Agreement Reports and Agreed Statements of Ecumenical Conversations on a World Level (New York: Paulist Press, 1984). Jeffrey Gros and Joseph Burgess, eds., Building Unity (New York: Paulist Press, 1989) and Growing Consensus (New York: Paulist Press, 1995). Also the volumes noted in n. 5 above. 12 William Watley, Singing the Lord's Song in a Strange Land (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1992). Marlin Miller and Barbara Nelson Gingrich, eds., The Church's Peace Witness (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1994). 13 H. George Anderson, T. Austin Murphy, and Joseph A. Burgess, eds., Justification by Faith (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1985). Karl Lehmann and Wolfhart Pannenberg, eds., The Condemnations of the Reformation Era: Do They Still Divide? (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990). 14 Jared Wicks SJ, Yearning for Grace: Luther's Early Spiritual Teaching (Philadelphia: Coronet Books, 1969) and Luther and His Spiritual Legacy (Wilmingtom Michael Glazier, 1983). George H. Tavard, Justification: An Ecumenical Study (New York: Paulist Press, 1983). is William Purdy, The Search for Unity (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1995). Christopher Hill and Edward Yarnold, eds., Anglicans and Roman Catholics: The Search for Unity: The ARCIC Documents and their Reception, (London: SPCK/CTS, 1994). 16 John Borelli and John Erickson, Orthodox and Catholic in Dialogue (Crestwood, New York: St. Vladimir Seminary Press/Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1995). Ronald G. Roberson, ed., Oriental Orthodox-Roman Catholic Pastoral Relationships and Interchurch Marriages (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1995). Paul Fries and Tiran Nersoyan, Christ in East and VVest (Macon: M. ercer University Press, I ~87). Review for Religious ~7 W.A, Visser't Hooft, The Genesis and Formation of the World Council of Churches (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1982). 18 "Dialogue and Proclamation," Origins 21, no. 8 (4 July 1991), "Interreligious Dialogue," Living Light 32, no. 2 (Winter 1995), Eugene Fisher and Leon Klenicki, eds., In Our Time: The Flowering of Jewish- Catholic Dialogue (New York: Paulist Press, 1989). 19 For the Conversion of the Churches, by Groupe des Dombes (Geneva, Switzerland: World Council of Churches, 1993). Dianne Kessler, Lorelei Fuchs, and Gillian Evans, Encounters.for Unity (Norwich: Canterbury Press, 1994). Michael Hurley, ed., Reconciliation in Religion and Society (Belfast: Institute of Irish Studies, 1994), and Timothy J. Wengert and Charles W. Brockwell Jr., eds., Telling the Churches' Stories: Ecumenical Perspectives on Writing Christian History (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1995). Louis Dupr~ and Don Saliers, eds., Christian Spirituality: Post-Reformation andModern (New York: Crossroad, 1989), and E. Glenn Hinson, ed., Spirituality in Ecumenical Perspective (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993). 20 James Washington, Conversation with God: Two Centuries of Prayers by African Americans (New York: HarperCollins, 1994). Daniel Liechty, ed., Early Anabaptist Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1994). 21 Bengt Hoffman, ed., The Theologica Germanica of Martin Luther (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), and Roland Bainton, Here I Stand (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1991). William Wolf, Anglican Spirituality (Wilton, Connecticut: Morehouse Publications, 1982). Kallistos Ware, The Orthodox Way (London: Mowbrays, 1979) and The Art of Prayer: An Orthodox Anthology (London: Faber and Faber, 1966); Georges Barrois, ed., The Fathers Speak (Crestwood, New York: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1986). 22 J.L. Richard, The Spirituality of John Calvin (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1974). Alexander Ganoczy, The Young Calvin (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1987). Richard P. Heitzenrater, Wesley and the People Called Methodists (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995). Frank Whaling, ed., John and Charles Wesley (New York: Paulist Press, 1981). Edwin Gaustad, Liberty of Conscience: Roger Williams in America (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1991). 23 Thomas Ryan, Prayer of Hear.t and Body (New York: Paulist Press, 1995). 24 Aloysius Pieris SJ, Love Meets Wisdom (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1988). William Johnston sJ, The Still Point (New York: Fordham University Press, 1980). Patrick G. Henry and Donald K. Swearer, For the Sake of the World: The Spirit of Buddhist and Christian Monasticism (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989). Anthony de Mello SJ, Sadhana: A Way to God (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1979). M. Thomas Thangaraj, The Crucified Guru (Nashville: Abingdon, 1994). Achiel Peelman, Christ Is a Native American (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995). Leon Klenicki and Gabe Huck, eds., Spirituality and Prayer: Jewish and Christian Understandings(New York: Paulist Press, 1983). Bernard Lee, The Galilean November-December 1996 Crros ¯ The Dialogue of Conversion Jewishness ofyesus (New York: Paulist Press, 1988). The Paulist Press's Classics of Western Spirituality series includes many Muslim and Jewish titles. zs Institute for Ecumenical and Cultural. Research, Confessing Christian Faith in a Pluralistic Society, (Collegeville, 1995). 26J.M.R. Tillard, A Church of Churches (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1991). Aram Keshishian, Conciliar Fellowship(Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1992). John Zizioulas, Being as Communion; Studies in Personhood and the Church, (Crestwood, New York: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1985). Lewis Mudge and Paul Crow, eds., "Toward the Year 2000: An Ecumenical Celebration," Midstream 24~ no. 4 (October 1987). 27 John Hotchkin, "The Ecumenical Movement's Third Stage," Origins 25, no. 21 (9 November 1995): 353-361. I Am the Bread I am the Bread baked of the Father's fine flour, molded in Mary by Spirit's pure power. I am the Bread Bethlehem born, kneaded and nailed, scorching with scorn, rising from death and the dead. I am the Bread. Come, eat me, hold me, share me, held by death, never. Living forevert. We are the bread. Jean Miriam Donachie SC Review for Religious ERIK KARL RIECHERS A Way of Being Church: Journey, Serve, and Evangelize Together I~rhere is any one way of describing the quandary of modern atholic life, I would suggest this: that we are groping for a way of being church. Small Christian communities, lay-associate programs, lay-formation programs, justice movements, secular institutes, and a host of other ecclesial forms all seek practical, concrete ways of living the reality of church. It is to ecclesiology that people generally go for a deep under-standing of the nature and purpose of the church. Yet a second, com-plementary avenue is open to us, namely, seeking in our.own praxis of church life specific principles that other ecclesial groups could apply to themselves. It is a good thing to celebrate our own local church history and Spirit-filled growth, but it is regrettable that oth-ers derive litde profit from it when we neglect to share it with them. Here I intend to share the exl~erience of the Union of Catholic Apostolate (UAC). While its experience is not automatically adapt-able to the church at large or even to every institute of consecrated life, the UAC has learned some essentials that could easily serve the entire people of God, helping it on its way of being church. One Way of Being Church: The Union of Catholic Apostolate When people first hear about the UAC, they almost Erik Karl Riechers SAC last wrote for us in March-April 1995. His address is Pallottine Faith Enrichment Centre; 6 McMillan Avenue; Red Deer, Alberta; T4N 5X8 Canada. November-December 1996 Riecbers ¯ A Way of Being Church always assume that they are being introduced to yet another form of third-order spirituality, that of the Pallottine Fathers and Brothers. Yet nothing could be further from the truth. The UAC is a radical and very challenging break from the model of spiri-tuality that led to the third orders. In the 1980s the conservative theory of "trickle-down" eco-nomics became popular. The concept was simple. If great wealth and prosperity could be produced at the top levels of society and the state, then benefits and positive effects would trickle down to lower levels. The idea of third orders might well be described as "trickle-down" spirituality. The concept was that an order would have a rich and vibrant spirituality and that, after a time, this spiritual wealth would be shared by other religious with a similar interest or direction. These would be the second orders. Finally, lay people would want to share in the founding spirituality, and some of it would trickle down to them, allowing them to par-ticipate in some derivative fashion, but never fully and certainly not in the same sense as the first order. There is nothing fundamentally wrong with this model, and it is not my intention to belittle or ridicule it. However, for the Pallottine family it leaves a great deal to be desired, for it fails to recognize the element that is always at the heart of our UAC spir-ituality: that all Christian men, women, and children are called by name to an apostolic life. This vocation, this life, does not trickle down from the Pallottine Fathers and Brothers, nor is it but a shadow of someone else's spirituality. The calling of Christians is directly from God, not delei~ated to them by the hierarchy. Their spirituality, therefore, must be as unique as their vocation, and not just an offshoot of the spirituality of another person or group. The UAC is a concrete expression of Vatican Council II's teaching on the universal call to holiness that insists that "all the faithful are invited and obliged to holiness and the perfection of their own state of life" (Lumen gentium §42). Imagine a great shimmering pool. For this pool's water a num-ber of tribes have various needs. Yet each of them goes to the common pool in order to satisfy those needs. The tribes procure the water and carry it home in distinctive containers, yet each has taken life-giving water from the same source. Some will use the water to cook, others to drink, others to wash the grime from their bodies, while yet others intend to douse the plant~ that will grow to still their hunger. Review for Religious The image reveals to us the way in which the UAC approaches Pallottine spirituality. The pool is Pallottine spirituality, and its contents are the ideals, intuitions, and insights of Vincent Pallotti. Every group of the UAC is distinctive and has a unique need for what is within the common pool of Pallottine spirituality. The Pallottine Fathers and Brothers go to that pool and realize its spiritu-ality in their own unique way. The Pallottine Sisters draw from the pool and use what they have drawn from its depths in their own par-titular fashion. Every group, lay or religious, goes to the same life-giv-ing source, goes to Pallotti, and comes away with its own manner of letting that life flow through them. We know ourselves to be one, for our thirst has led u~ to the same pool, and we acknowledge that we are all nourished from a common source. Yet we know ourselves to be unique, for that invigorating fountain of spirituality is cre-atively used to nourish many forms and variations of life in the Spirit. When we look across the world at all the expressions of the UAC, we see a web of communities, a grand alliance of spiritual-ity, and a confederation of Christians. Despite our wide diversity and exceedingly different experiences of life, we support one another as communities and individuals and share those experi-ences. This has been our ultimate strength, the power that is born of a genuine solidarity. For when we gaze upon the countenance of our Pallottine brothers and sisters, we recognize first and fore-most the people who stand beside us at the pool of Pallottine spirituality, who share our thirst, and who share our way of slak-ing it. In that gaze lies the certain knowledge that we are not alone in life. In our family no one receives a scrap from the mas-ter's table, because we all have an equal seat at that table. Despite our wide diversity and exceedingly different experiences of life, we support one another as communities and individuals and share those experiences. A Way of Forming Church I am often asked: What does the UAC offer people? I believe November-December 1996 Riechers * A Way of Being Church " that there are a number of interwoven answers to that question, each of them a principle applicable--though in varied ways--to the experience of being church. The need for spiritual growtb.~Many people today have a grow-ing awareness that their spiritual lives need more than a bare min-imum, that these lives of theirs have failed to grow beyond the confines of the catechism classes of their formative years. They come to the realization that children's catechesis does not suffice in a world of adult problems, and they begin to experience the need for development toward a responsible adult faith. Yet often they then face a second problem, namely, that they can get many bits and pieces in workshops, seminars, and adult-education classes, but that there are few places where they can get a comprehensive formation in Catholic, spiritual living. The UAC is a place where we begin to solve this problem through four movements. In the UAC we assist one another in coming to an adult faith in an adult church. Our manual of formation, titled Called by Name, offers a systematic approach to spiritual growth. Here we move the believer from the sporadic to the systematic. Called by Name takes a thorough look at eight great facets of spirituality: (1) God's infinite love and mercy and its effect in our lives, (2) the presence and work of God in human time and history, where we might experience this God, (3) the sheer power of the word of God, (4) communion as the antidote to loneliness and polarization, (5) the unrelenting call to embark on the mission with Christ, (6) the covenant according to which God creates, a homeland for Christians, (7) community that gathers under God's grace, and (8) hope and unity that,sustains and drives the Christian life. Each of these themes is tackled from three different angles. First, from the point of view of Catholic spirituality, we link our-selves with the Great Tradition and the wealth that Scripture, Vatican Council II, and Christian experience have to offer us. Here we move the believer's faith from adolescence to adulthood. Second, from the point of view of Pallottine spirituality, the members of the UAC experience the wonderful depth and richness of Vincent Pallotti's approach to God and the faith. Here we move the believer's spirituality from the common to the concrete. In this part of our formation, we make a transition from the common spirituality of all the people of God to a specifis form of realizing this spirituality in our concrete lives, the specific form of Pallottine spirituality. Review for Religious Finally, we learn together how we can integrate what we have learned into a life of prayer as members of the UAC. Employing the rich resources of the Tradition and the Pallottine heritage, we explore many forms of prayer in order that individuals may find a prayer method suited to their temperament and need and that all together we may discover the splendid variety of oppor-tunities to raise our minds and hearts to the living God. In this final part of a chapter's formation, we move the believer from prin-ciple to prayer. Hand in hand with this desire to grow in faith beyond the bare-bones basics is the need to sustain Christian life and aposto-late. In order to be church we must keep the flame of faith alive in our hearts, to "confirm our call and election" (2 P 1:10). This, however, has become an increasingly daunting task in today's society. Many people who are committed to liv-ing out their Christian commitment in the world suddenly find themselves facing unre-lenting pressures from their colleagues, friends, and acquaintances to conform to social norms that con-tradict their faith commitment. When they choose to go to Mass rather than the picnic, to be people of generosity rather than gos-sips, and to offer compassion in the place, of criticism, they often discover that the reward is outright ridicule for living in such a way as to be a "sign of contradiction." Unfortunately, no one wants to be contradicted. When Christian life is lived with pas-sion and zeal, it says to the people who live what is an otherwise unchallenged lifestyle that we would beg to differ. Yet, while this is a hard reality to live through, it is not the crux of our problem. It is hard enough to keep the flame of faith alive in our hearts without the added burden of trying to do this as a solo per.formance. People are looking for support in their lives, in their struggles. It is easy enough to fall away from the Way of Christ, but hard to resist the many temptations and avoid the pitfalls constantly presented to us on that way. Therefore, many people are experiencing the need to find a place where the spiritual life they have formed can be sustained and strengthened. The UAC is a place where people can find a spiritual homeland for Hand in hand with this desire to grow in faith beyond the bare-bones basics is the need to sustain Christian life and apostolate. November-December 1996 Riecbers ¯ A Way of Being Church themselves. It offers the chance to speak of our faith, the daily struggles that affect it, and the many experiences and encoun-ters at work, rest, or play that challenge it. The UAC is the place where committed Christians share the many ways in which their faith can be lived as parents, professionals, business people, and citizens of the nation. It is the place where we heed the admo-nition of the Letter to the Hebrews: "Keep encouraging one another so that none of you is hardened by the lure of sin" (Heb 3:13). In the UAC we offer one another courage by teaching one another the joys of fidelity, giving one another a hand when we stumble along, speaking of our hope in moments of despair, and walking the way together, even when the path leads through dark-ness. Then, and only then, do we consider our Christian call to be fulfilled. Encouragement is the UAC's way of keeping the hearts of our brothers and sisters from being hardened.~It is all too easy to point out the lure of sin, to make people aware of the dangers lurking on every side that threaten to devour them whole if they are unwary. In the UAC we choose the harder Way of encourag-ing one another, resisting easier ways. This way is much harder because it demands that we get involved. The members of the UAC are committed not just to spreading faith, but also to keep-ing it alive in one another, and that means being committed to one another. It is the way of our Pallottine spirituality not just to point .to solutions, but to be part of the solution, part of the heal-ing. When we are lost, it is a pleasant thing to find someone who can give us directions. It is, however, without doubt a better thing when that person offers to guide us directly. Together to Evangelize A guiding motto of the UAC has been "Together to Evangelize." Over the course of the last years, three components have helped our reflection on our role within the New Evangelization: the scripture passage of the road to Emmaus, the person and charism of Vincent Pallotti, and the call to mission. So that we may be guided yet again to the place ~of renewal for .all the Pallottine family, I take a word from Reinhold Niebuhr as a lantern to light our path. With piercing insight this great Protestant theologian wrote: Review for Religious Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our life-time; therefore, we must be saved by hope. Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore, we must be saved by faith. Nothing we do, no matter how virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore, we must be saved by love. Let us bring this word to Emmaus experience, to Pallottine perceptivity, and to people who are together for evangelization. "Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; there-fore, we must be saved by hope. "Two despairing disciples walk away from a life once brimming over with aspirations, hopes, and dreams. To follow Christ--ah, here was the achievement of a life-time, an endeavor worthy of discipleship, an undertaking for which you could put your life on the line and leave your "fishing nets lying on the shore." In .Christ they thought they had found the One worth investing their entire lives in. Their words speak of their hearts' discontent: "But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel" (Lk 24:21). And why not? After all, this man's words gave wings to the hopeless spirit, set sinners' hearts a-soaring, and suffused beaten men and women with vibrant new life. Here was a prophet "mighty in word and deeds," whose power calmed waves and curbed fears, sent healing grace rippling through the bleeding woman and peace to the demoniac's shattered soul, The dream of liberation from the heavy foot of Rome, glory for God and royal dignity for themselves, was vividly real; it was a dream wor-thy of a lifetime of sacrifice. It was a dream not to be! "Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime." Pallotti clearly concurs. "On my own I can do nothing; with God I can do everything." What Pallotti sees with a clarity begot-ten of grace is that no effort of ours, regardless how noble, how ideal or how cloaked in dignity, will find fulfillment in our lifetime. Our effort, strength, stamina~ and speed will first thrill us and then tantalize us with their obvious inability to coerce complete-ness out of our life's work. God alone can deliver more than we may manufacture. God alone can write an ending beyond our endings. "Not the intellect., not the will., not worldly goods ¯. not riches., not honor., not dignity., not promotions, but God." With Pallottine conviction we profess that God alone is our hope: "therefore, we must be saved by hope." Born of this Pallottine conviction is the UAC's task for the November-December 1996 Riecbers ¯ A Way of Being Church Z---ygOJ New Evangelization. We must turn to the busy world with its many worthwhile pursuits and offer it the hope that comes from God alone~ Otherwise the worthy work of our people will become their downfall, as they rdalize that no fulfillment is forthcoming in their lifetimes. You can go out and combat poverty with leonine ferocity, but, for every Ethiopian fed yesterday, a Somali starves today. You can dedicate yourself to nobly terminating racism, and do it with a Schwarzeneggerian swagger, but today's apartheid-free South Africa yields its ~place in the news to a genocidal Rwanda. Gorbachev tears down walls for freedom; elsewhere someone loots the bill for terrorists. Desmond Tutu seeks to set his people free with the South African Truth Commission's airing of stories buried too long and too deep; others, far away in various direc-tions, distort ,the truth in hate-mongering rhetoric. Into this world we have been sent. To these men and women we must speak of the God of infinite love who can give every worthwhile human endeavor the blessing of a consummation that human history will relentlessly, ruthlessly deny it. We are together to evangelize so that people may be saved by hope. "Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore, we must be saved by faith." The Emmaus-bound disciples have tasted beauty, truth, and goodness in their time with Christ. "Before God and all the people', (Lk 24:19), Jesus revealed the beautiful heart, that wel-comes children; the true heart of the teacher lecturing tirelessly, openly, and authoritatively in temple and boat, on mountain and plain; and the good heart weeping for Lazarus in the tomb, heal-ing the centurion's servant, and shielding Mary from the harangu-ing of her harried elder sister. Now they stand in a puzzlement born of betrayal. For this beauty, truth, and goodness called Christ has been condemned to death and crucified. Moreover, even the empty tomb, the vision of angels, and the women's confident assertion that Jesus yet lives is now nonsensical to the disciples. The resurrection with the gaping truth of the tomb, the celestial beauty of an angelic news flash, and ~the gripping goodness of tidings that Jesus is 'risen from the dead~all remain meaningless because the only context these two know is death .and destruction with their definitive finality., "Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate, context of history." Review for Religion's Pallotti continually points to faith as the only context big enough to allow us to make heads or tails out of life's maddening complexity. If the span of our days is all we have, if the psalmist's seventy years (or eighty for the strong) are all we have for com-prehending life's events, then no avenue save futility and absurdity is open to us. Vincent Pallotti prescribes faith in the God of infi-nite love as the antidote: God's infinity offers a context in which we can live beyond the immediate experience. While Pallotti himself does not understand every why and wherefore of God's will, he has faith that God is not to be outdone in generosity. Puzzled and likely hurt by the rumor-mongering jealousy that made his pastorate in Spirito Santo a nightmare lived in waking hours, and eventually caused an unjust and unjus-tifiable suppression of the UAC, Pallotti has faith in the inex-haustible mercy and mystery of God, which will open up the present hour of harrowing agony to a meaning beyond the momentary. Here we find the UAC's second task in the New Evangelization. We must teach faith as a means of finding mean-ing beyond the momentary. The immediate context of history has to be broadened to the eternal horizon of faith, which is God himself. The now is simply not enough. Try as we may, the death of children by abuse does not make sense in our immediate context alone. What does truth mean in our day when wealthy people may purchase enough legal persuasion to win verdicts of "not guilty," while ordinary people of low or moderate incomes may find themselves convicted after minimal arguments for the defense? Can the immediate context alone help us cope with the drunken driver who walks away, unsteadily but alive, from the crash that claims the life and aspi-rations of the teetotaling pedestrian? Unlike Disney movies, lost dogs do not always find their way home, mermaids do not always find princes, beasts do not always marry beauties, angels are not always in the outfield, and some Cinderellas die in grinding poverty without ever making it to the ball. We must spread faith in God, for his rising from the dead is the only possibility of writing a conclusion beyond the otherwise absolute, limiting finality of human life. We are together to evan-gelize so that people may be saved by faith. "Nothing we do, no matter bow virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore, we must be saved by love." A final glance at the road to Emmaus revealsto us the truth of this Niebuhrian statement. November-December 1996 Riechers ¯ A Way of Being Church The disciples are doing a virtuofis thing. They are talking about all the things that happened in, Jerusalem, seeking a shred of meaning, a fleeting glimpse of God, in the morass their lives have become. Yet they do not accomplish anything until Jesus interprets everything for them. Pallotti once wrote, "My Jesus, anyone who does not love you cannot live." Why not? Because, if people do not love, they do not reach beyond .themselves, for love is self-transcendende. If we never reach past our narrow needs and greeds, we remain alone; like the gospel grain of wheat. But those who remain alone do not live. Out of this divinely, revealed and inspired love, Pallotti would have us move from self to neighbor. It is this infinite love that drove him to found the UAC. This love is the constitutive ele-ment of the UAC. This love is what Pallotti would have us rekin-dle. This love, however, we cannot accomplish on our own. We must receive it from the God of infinite love. As the UAC we find in this experience our last task for the New Evangelization. A clear-eyed view of the world shows us a devastating truth: We cannot go it alone; we must be saved by love. The rugged individualism of the 1980s has decayed into the ragged loneliness of the 1990s. The myth of ever-expanding opportunities and limitless futures has collided headlong with the era that downsizes everything, including compassion. The peren-nial quest for self-discovery has not relieved our people of their confusion. They must be saved by love. And we must be together to evangelize so that it may be so! There you have it. Our journey has been hard, but happy, touched by love and laughter, sprinkled with songs and tears. It is the price to be paid if we would find a way of being church. In the end of all our journeys, we can only hope that this rendering of a passage of Virgil's Aeneid (1.198-203) may be true of us: "And the time will come when it will gladden our hearts to recall these first trying days and the difficult things that we did, not each of us striving alone, but all of us working together." Review for Religious RITA E. GOLDMAN Frances Cabrini: A Woman for Today What if Mother Cabrini had been born in 1950 instead of 1850? What aspects of her life would be different? Personally, I think none. She was a true daughter of the church, and I am sure she would have welcomed the era of Vatican Council II. Even in her day she was considered forward. When she wanted Missionaries in the title of her religious congregation, she was told only men were mis-sionaries. At that time there was in Italian no feminine form of the masculine word missionari. A certain Father Marinoni, the director of the Foreign Mission Seminary, said, "It is not even in the dictionary." But she persisted. In Italy her sisters came to be called Missionarie del Sacro Cuore di Gesi~. We often think of saints as human beings far above ourselves, not realizing that in their lives they experienced their humanity in ways that we could recognize from our own lives. Perhaps it is the way the saints have been writ-ten about that leads us to think they were not truly human beings like ourselves. Many years ago lives of saints were written in very flowei'y, complimentary terms. The books Rita E. Goldman retired from United States foreign service in 1989 after assignments in Liberia, Nepal, Burma, Cameroon, and Romania. Since then, besides some volunteer work with Holy Cross sisters in Israel and with Mother Cabrini's sisters in Chicago, she has been involved in the RCIA program of her parish, St. Frances Cabrini. Her address is 3041 North Country Club Road, Apt. 220; Tucso.n, Arizona 85716. models November-December 1996 Goldman * Frances Cabrini 5.94 tended to portray only their "saintly" attributes, making the per-' sons seem not human to us when we read about them. In this article I hope to present Mother Cabrini as a real person, one very much like us. In fact, several prelates and business associ-ates who had known her were surprised when she was canonized. They said that in many business transactions she did not behave like a saint--she often pounded the table to make a point and would raise her voice in a heated exchange! Mother Cabrini was a modern woman. Her interests were extensive, and she certainly did not adapt 'readily to the role expected of late-19th- and early-20th-century women religious. She was a business woman and world traveler, keenly aware of the currents of thought in the world of her time. In fact, after her meditation, prayers, and Mass each morning, one of the first things she did was read the morning newspapers. This was before radio and television came upon the scene. I have no doubt that, if Mother Cabrini were living today, she would be turning on the radio or the TV to get her daily news of what was going on in the world. She would have loved the instant communication that exists today--in her day "instant" communication was onl~ the tele-graph and, later, the telephone. On 30 October 1952 Mother Cabrini was posthumously named "The Italian Immigrant of the Century" at a gathering of the American Committee on Italian Migration. Mother Cabrini was singled out because of her "unselfish devotion to humanity" and because "her accomplishments stand as monuments for all to behold and put to shame those people whose bigotry helps raise the cry of intolerance toward the immigrant." If Mother Cabrini.were living today, she would be in her element in regard to the immigrant. In our day there continue to be refugees, political, refugees, immi, grants, and displaced persons; they often make headlines. This has been a century of immigration. In the early 1900s it was the mas-sive immigration from southern and eastern Europe. Today it is immigration 7from Central and South America, Vietnam, China, and the war-torn areas of central Europe. Mother Cabrini's Missionaries of the Sacred Heart of Jesus are in the forefront in helping today's immigrants just as Mother Cabrini was. Maria Francesca Cabrini was bor.n on 15 July 1850 in a small village in Lombardy, Italy. Her parents were pious and devout, and little Franceswas certain she wanted to be a missionary. She was the tenth of eleven children, of whom seven met early deaths. Review for Religqous Only Magdalena (who was retarded), Rosa, Giuseppe, and herself lived to adulthood. As a child Frances used to launch paper boats filled with vio-lets into a stream nearby, pretending the violets were missionar-ies going to foreign lands, especially China. As a teenager Frances applied to two religious communities for admission, but each refused her because of her frail health, a problem she bore throughout life. In 1870 she lost both of her parents; she was twenty. Her sister Rosa had become a public school teacher, and Frances followed her in this. When she was twenty-four years old, her pas-tor and bishop, valuing her desire to serve, asked her to lend a hand for a few weeks at a poorly run orphanage. These "few weeks" that lasted six years were a time of great suffering and prepared Frances for the work she would eventual.ly do. The local bishop offered her his backing: "You always wanted to be a missionary. I know of no such order of women. Why not found one your- ~ self?" So in 1880 she and seven young women con-secrated themselves to God and took religious vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.~They called themselves Missionaries of the Sacred Heart, They took over an abandoned Franciscan monastery in the town of Codogno, not far from where Frances was born. Maria Francesca Cabrini now became Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini, ready to conquer the world for Christ. During the next few years, Mother Cabrini expanded her order in Italy, opening many houses and accepting new vocations. But she was still intent on doing missionary work. In 1887 she met Pope Leo XIII, who, even though he was aware of her desire to do missionary work in China,-persuaded her to go to America to assist the many Italian immigrants there who were in dire need. He said to her: "Not to the Orient, Cabrini, but to the West. Your China is the United States." At the time of her death in Chicago in 1917 at the age of sixty-seven, Mother Cabrini had founded sixty-seven hospitals, orphanages, and schools in .the United States, South and Central America,. and Europe. After her death other foundations were made in Africa, Asia, and Australia. .From an early age, after a frightening experience of near If Mother Cabrini were living today, she would be in her element in regard to the immigrant. November-Deconber 1996 Goldman ¯ Frances Cabrini drowning, Frances had a real fear of water. Yet, even with this fear, she in her missionary travels crossed the Atlantic Ocean some twenty-three tiines, going to the United States and South and Central America. The only times she really had for "rest" were during these ocean voyages. Most of her correspondence was done at these times, including long letters about her travels written to her sisters back in Italy. Mother Cabrini's favorite sub-ject when she taught school was geography, and this is very much reflected in the travel letters she wrote. She certainly researched and read beforehand about the places where she was going to start a mission. It was in reading the book of her Travels that I came across the real Mother Cabrini, and I would like to quote some passages from these letters to show how human and like us she really was. Did Mother Cabrini know and speak English? The answer to that is yes. During her second voyage to New York in 1890, she wrote: "The sisters tell him [a friendly man on the boat] in English what he has not understood from me. He is very intelligent, and from the expression on my face he understands what I intend to say. He asks me to speak English as well as I can, and he helps me with some French words, saying he can understand. Sister Bernardina is going to make a novena for me to obtain the grace to speak English, and assures me she will obtain it. What do you think of it? 1 fear the day of judgment will arrive before 1 learn English." During the voyage from Genoa to New York in 1894, Mother Cabrini related the following: "Yesterday a waiter told me how sorry he was that he could not speak Italian so that he might ren-der the sisters better service. He wants me to act as interpreter, but my knowledge of English is limited, barely enough to prevent me from losing my way or dying of hunger." Sister Mary Louise Sullivan, however, in her Mother Cabrini: Italian Immigrant of the Century (1992), says: "Mother Cabrini read American newspapers daily when she was present in her houses in the United States. The Chicago Tribune was on her desk each day. She knew what you were talking about when you spoke to her in English and would sometimes reply gently in English when you tried to address her in halting Italian. She could become quite angry and would raise her voice when upbraiding a sister in her native Italian." Some of the humorous incidents she related were, in con-junction with the roughness of the ocean during some of her voy- Review for Religious ages. On her second voyage to New York in 1890, she wrote: "Poor sisters! At every movement of the boat they think we are in a great storm. Sister Eletta would like to have the boat stopped, at least during meals. I told the steward this just to make him laugh. He is so kind." On another occasion she said, "During this tempest not one of the sisters was frightened; all remained quietly in bed, ready to perish quietly, but under the bedclothes." On the voyage from New York to Le Havre in 1899, she wrote: "What a terrible night we have passed! The steamer seemed to jump and fly out of the water. At other times we thought it would capsize . At about 9 a.m. the rocking began again. I was still in bed and could not get up, and the stew-ardess asked if we wanted some break-fast. I told her to bring us some coffee. It was the first time I had ever had anything brought to my bed, and the poor coffee reached me at a very bad moment. No sooner had it been poured out than cup and coffee pot, by a sudden jerk of the steamer, were spilled over my bed. I was forced to get up whether I liked it or not." On her trip to New York in 1890, Mother Cabrini had a com-mon experience for one who is fair-skinned. (Mother Cabrini was very fair and had blond hair--remember she came from northern Italy.) She wrote: "Meantime the heat is like summer. For three days I looked like Bacchus. My forehead is very red, even pur-ple, and this redness is spreading all over my face. At first I thought it was erysipelas. I did not like the prospect, for I should have had to retire from the open, and fresh air is life to me. Happily, however, the doctor said the redness was the effect of the air and of the water which was spraying on my face . Today the skin has begun to peel off my forehead and nose. I am chang-ing like a serpent." Mother Cabrini mentioned language difficulties more than once. In 1898, going from Liverpool to New York, she wrote up this anecdote about Sister Frances, who knew English but not much Italian: "The other day, for instance, she wanted to say cauliflower in Italian, which is cavolf!ore, but her rendering made "I always close the porthole before I go to bed, as I would rather put up with the heat than receive a surprise visit from a fish." November-December 1996 Goldman ¯ Frances Cabrini it 'fiore-cavalli,' which is 'horses-flowers.' By expressing herself in this roundabout way, she was doubly charitable, for 'she gave me the opportunity of a good hearty laugh." That same year Mother Cabrini recounted her experience with the London underground: "We entered a small station. Having gotten our tickets, we stood with many others in what appeared to us a room, waiting to proceed, when suddenly we felt ourselves descending into the earth. Then there was a stop, and we found ourselves in a large subway, lighted by electricity. People began to run as if they were running for their lives, and without saying a word. So we too followed and took our places in the train, or rather trains, for there was a line of carriages which could not be counted in the light, for it was like night so deep down. We had hardly gotten into our compartment'when the train moved off, and, as quick as lightning, we found ourselves in the center of the city, having gone all the way underground. At the station we entered a lift, though owing to its large size it did not seem to be a lift. Then we rose and came out into the daylight." Mother Cabrini related the following on her 1900 voyage from Genoa to Buenos Aires: "At dawn this morning we arrived at M~laga . I thought I would like to make a little visit to the town, and, as everyone was buying the raisins of Mfilaga to take to Buenos Aires, I also secured a box as a memento of the place. But I had better luck than the others, who went into smart-look-ing shops to get theirs, where they had to pay more for the box than for the raisins. I, however, fixed my eye on a donkey coming down a small mountain, loaded with boxes of the celebrated grapes of that mountain. In the evening everybody returned with their beautiful and elegant boxes, and I with my rustic box . At table someone offered us a bottle of M~ilaga wine, find I, wishing to reciprocate, sent to the cabin to get one of the botdes that Mother Augustine had placed there. They asked if it was Mfilaga, 'Yes,' I replied, 'this is Mfilaga.' They enjoyed the joke, drank the.wine, and were surprised at its exquisite taste. They could scarcely believe that such good wine came from Piedmont." On this same 1900 voyage, Mother Cabrini wrote about her cabin: "It is very nicely situated in that part of the steamer where the rocking is little felt, and there is a porthole to the west which I can open at will. I have to keepit closed from 4 a.m. to 7 a.m., as the sailors clean the ship during these hours and throw water about heedlessly. The water often enters through the portholes Review for Religious and causes much inconvenience to those who are not expecting it. I always close the porthole before I go to bed, as I would rather put up with the heat than receive a surprise visit from a fish." All that has been said above will give you some idea of the modernness, and the humor, of Mother Cabrini. Perhaps we can visualize her today walking the corridors of the various institutions she founded, giving comfort and solace to those she meets. Or we can see her walking the streets of New York, Chicago, New Orleans, and all the other cities in both the United States and Central and South America where she founded missions, visiting the homes of Italian immigrants and asking about their lives and their children, assisting them in all the ways that were at her disposal. She did all these things in her life, but we might ask ourselves what made Mother Cabrini tick. I would say the love of God and serving him in his people was the driving force behind all Mother .Cabrini did. She literally left everything in order to find God more perfectly and to serve human beings.God gave her the graces and she generously corresponded. From her earliest days she had this "vision" of mis-sion, and she sacrificed all in order to carry it out. This involved constant interior self-denial, not the bodily mortifications of some of the saints, but a continual going against self in order to conform more perfectly to the will of God as she saw it in her regard and for the institute she founded. It was her contemplation, her communing with God, that gave her the energy to do all she did for others. But most of all she was a woman of faith. She had a great devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and firmly believed that he did everything--she was just an instrument. The following passage in the Constitutions of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus expresses very well what made Mother Cabrini tick: "Mother Cabrini lived her experience of church with missionary fervor which captured her from the first Frances Cabrini was moved to action by the spirit of the Gospels, the word of the church expressed by the Holy Father, the cry of the suffering, the misery of the poor, ~ the tragedy of the abandoned. November-Decevnber 1996 Goldman ¯ Frances Cabrini moment she knowingly gave herself to God. It became the moti-vating force of her life. Strengthened by the Lord, nothing hin-dered her--not even the boldest undertakings--as long as it was justified by the greater glory of God and by her commitment to bring Christ to the world. Frances Cabrini was moved to action by the spirit of the Gospels, the word of the church expressed by the Holy Father, the cry of the suffering, the misery of the poor, the tragedy of the abandoned. Her courage and zeal, rising as they did from her loving communion with the Heart of Christ, impelled her to make her own St. Paul's motto: 'I can do all things in him who strengthens me.'" In proclaiming someone a saint at the conclusion of the care-ful process of canonization, the church tells the faithful that this person is worthy of imitation. The saints are our heroes, certainly more worthy of imitation than film or rock stars. In this brief essay I hope in some way I have shown you the humanness and modernness of Mother Cabrini. I hope, too, thatI have dispelled the notion that saints inhabit such a rarefied realm that they have no relevance for us. Mother Cabrini is very human and very approachable. She lived a life very similar to ours, in our century. She coped with many of the frustrations that we do, but with bet-ter motives, a better =attitude. We too can become saints, but it will take a lot of faith and a lot of love, not only of ourselves but of our neighbor. Knowing Mother Cabrini, we can ask her to help us attain this goal. By praying for her to assist us, we are asking a woman of our own times, a woman who understands what it is like to live in today's world. Icons i hear icons weep in our city their kingly gift of myrrh trickles down making holy faces glisten-glisten into sorrowing sorrowing the sorrow we refuse to bear Lou Ella Hickman IWBS Review for Religious M. BASIL PENNINGTON The Cistercian Martyrs of Algeria, 1996 )n 26 May 1996, from one end of France to the other, all across the land the bells tolled. It was a rather somber note for the glorious feast of Pentecost, Thousands stood in silence around the Eiffel Tower. It was a moment of remembrance, of pain, of joy, of awe. And yet in some ways it was strange that this should be tak-ing place. Since the early days of 1992, after an unpopular gov-ernment canceled an election it was slated to lose, blood had flowed freely in Mgeria. It was estimated that as many as fifty thousand had died in the guerrilla warfare, including at least a hundred citizens of other nations, some forty of them from France alone. Eleven priests and religious had been among those slain. But now, with the kidnapping and subsequent horrifying slaugh-ter of seven Trappist monks of Our Lady of Atlas, suddenly France and the world stopped to take note. Why? Because this was not just another moment in ongoing bloody events. It was a moment of exquisite love: "Greater 10ve than this no one has, than that one lay down one's life for one's friends."' These seven were, as the Trappist abbot general expressed it, "martyrs of love." Consciously, deliberately, these men remained among a chosen people to give an unfaltering witness of love, knowing full well what would be the probable outcome of their witness. M. Basil Pennington OCSO, a contributor to our pages since 1972, writes from St. Joseph's Abbey; 167 Spencer Road; Spencer, Massachusetts 01562. November-December 1996 Pennington ¯ The Cistercian Martyrs Who Were These Seven? The seven monks of Our Lady of Arias who gave their lives in a witness of love were, in fact, quite typical of today's Cistercians. They came from varied backgrounds, mostly the middle class, from different parts of France. Most of them began their monas-tic journey a bit later in life, after having served God's people in other ways. They entered three different French monasteries, but each in some way heard the call to go live a witness of love among the Muslims. In response to that call, they came together at Our Lady of Atlas Monastery, Tibhirine, and formed a "school of char-ity" under the tutelage of Father Christian de Chergd, the prior. All who knew the small community noted how closely these men were bonded in a true friendship. We are not surprised, then, when we learn that, as a student at the Carmelite seminary of Paris, Father Christian wrote his thesis on Christian friendship, a friendship that stands out by reason of its delicacy and its spir-itnal depth. Father Christian, .like others of the seven, first came to know Algeria and, its people during his military service. For twenty-seven months he was stationed there with significant administra-five responsibilities in service of the local population. He returned later as a monk to be another kind of presence, to give another kind of witness. After his ordination as priest, Father Christian had served for a time as chaplain at the great Basilica of the Sacred Heart on Montmartre, but his own heart sought something more. This he pursued at the ancient Cistercian Abbey of Aiguebelle in the foothills of the Alps in southeastern France and then, after some preparation with the White Fathers at Rome, with his Trappist brothers at Tibhirine. Christian was fifty-nine when he found the fullness of love he had always sought and laid down his life for his friends. Brother Luc Dochier, at eighty-two, was the senior of the " community. He was a medical doctor and brought this valuable skill not only to the community but also to people all around. The monastery's dispensary, which was tied in with the health department of the region, was the best for a hundred kilometers around. For all his learning--and he remained ever an avid reader ready to share with the brothers what he read--he was at heart a very simple man. The love of God was central, and love of neigh-bor consumed his working hours as he ministered to all who came. Father Cdlestin Ringeard, twenty years Luc's junior, was Review for Religious Brother's right-hand man. He was a man of energy and color. As a priest of the diocese of Nantes, his ministry had been in the streets; his flock, the alcoholics, the prostitutes, the gays. Like Father Christian, he had seen service in Algeria. In the medical corps he cared for the "enemy" as well as his own. With Brother Luc he cared for them again. Father C~lestin had entered the Abbey of Our Lady of Bellefontaine, in Maine-et-Loire, not far south of Paris. Bellefontaine is the motherhouse of Spencer. It was from there that in March 1984 he set out for Algeria with two others, Brother Michel Fleury and Father Bruno Lemarchand. Brother Michel was from a peas-ant family in Loire-Atlantique. He first heard the call to serve Christ in the poorest of the poor. He joined the Fr~res du Prado, who saw their life as living a "modern Trappist life in the midst of the poor." But soon enough Brother felt drawn to the fullness of the traditional Trappist life. When he joined the brothers at Our Lady of Atlas, he was given the task of com-munity cook. Michel was a simple man, a gentle man, yet very discrete. Curiously, when the abductors took the monks off, Brother managed to carry with him his monastic cowl and leave it along the route, giving the pursuers the sole indication of the direction in which the monks had been taken. Father Bruno, in a sense, no longer belonged to the commu-nity of Our Lady of Atlas. In 1990 he had been sent with three others to start a new little community of witness in Morocco near Fez. He had returned to Atlas a few days before the incursion of the guerrillas in order to take part in the election of a prior. He had brought with him to monastic life a rich background:. He had been a professor and then the head of the College of St. Charles of Thouars. His first experience of Algeria had come early in life when his father was assigned there as an army officer. Two of the martyrs came from the ancient Cistercian monastery hidden high in the French Alps, Notre Dame de Tamie. Born in the region, Brother Paul Favre-Miville was the son of a The monastery's dispensary, which was tied in with the health department of the region, was the best for a hundred kilometers around. November-December 1996 Pennin~ton ¯ The Cistercian Martyrs Savoyard blacksmith. It took him a long time to find his way to the monastery, but he came with skills that enabled him, when he got to Our Lady of Atlas, to set up a good irrigation system that served monk and neighbor alike in the cooperative gardens. His confrere from Tamie, Father Christophe Lebreton, at forty-five, was the youngest of the community. Coming from a family of twelve children--he was the seventh--he seemed to come naturally to monastic life. He was of a poetic nature, very much the lover, who expressed himself well in words, both in his journal and in poems. A mixed group, indeed, like that found in any Cistercian monastery, drawn together by a vision, a transcendent vision cen-tered on a particular, in this case, being a presence of Christ among a people that doe~ not yet understand who this incarnate God of love is. The Background Story The story actually begins over sixty years ago when the monks of Aiguebelle conceived the idea of implanting among the Muslims of Algeria a small community of monks who could be the praying heart of the Christian community in that country and also witness to Christ's love by their own lives of love. They found a site about forty-five miles south of the nation's capital, Algiers, near the city of M~d~a (Lemdiyya) at a place called Tibhirine. Although the community was fully committed to the traditional Cistercian con-templative life, along with many other third-world communities it extended monastic hospitality to providing some medical care for those who came to the monastery door. And, continuing the earliest Cistercian tradition, the brothers who worked the farm and gardens shared their expertise with their less fortunate neigh-bors, enhancing the human condition of these very poor people. As there was no possibility of local vocations, recruits had to be constantly sought in the form of volunteers from the Trappist monasteries of France. Thus the community enjoyed the enrich-ing presence of monks from a number of abbeys. In general, life was quite peaceful in the little monastery, though disturbed at times by the recurring wars. The latest period of disturbance began in December 1991, when the government suddenly canceled elections in which it seemed the fundamentalist Islamic party, the Islamic Salvation Review for Religious Front (FIS), would win control. The FIS formed a guerrilla force and was promptly outlawed. An even more radical group then formed in the mountains, the Armed Islamic Group (GIA). It was this group that warned all foreigners to leave the country, and it began to indulge in periodic acts of terrorism. As the community of Atlas gathered to discuss what they should do in the face of this new warning and threat, they realized they were not the first Cistercian community to face such a chal-lenge. This was the case with the com-munities of Huambo and Bela Vista in Angola, Butende in Uganda, and Marija Zvijezda in Bosnia. For the monks of Atlas, the question became more acute when an armed band of the GIA, the "brothers from the mountain" as Father Christian called them, visited the monastery on Christmas eve in 1993. The guerrillas wanted to oblige the monks to collaborate with them through medical aid, economic support, and logistical help. In response the prefect of M4d~a offered the monks armed pro-tection and the possibility of moving from the monastery to a protected area. Through community discussions and votes during the following days, the monks decided to remain at Atlas, to decline armed protection so as to remain a sign of peace, and to reject any form of collaboration with the armed group except medical aid given only in the monastery dispensary. Father Christian sought to express the monks' position in a letter to the chief of the GIA, Sayah Attiya: Brother, allow me to address you like this, as man to man, believer to believer. In the pre~ent conflict in which our country is living, it seems to us impossible to take sides. The fact that we are foreigners forbids it. Our state as monks (ruhbfn) binds us to God's choice for us, which is prayer and the simple life, manual work, hospitality, and sharing with everyone, especially with the poor . These reasons for our life are a free choice for each one of us. They bind us until death. I do not think that it is God's will that this death should come to us through you . If one day the Algerians judge that we are unwelcome, we will respect their desire to see us leave. With very great regret I know that we will continue to love them all, as a whole, and that includes you. The community enjoyed the enriching presence of monks from a number of abbeys. Novonber-Deconber 1996 Penning'ton ¯ The Cistercian Martyrs When and how will this message reach you? It does not matter! I needed to write it to you today. Forgive me for having written in my mother tongue. You understand me. And may the only One of all life lead us! Amin. As the danger increased, in June 1994 the apostolic nuncio invited the monks to come and live at the nunciature. The broth-ers did not judge the time had come yet to abandon their monastery. When, on 23 October 1994, two Spanish Augustinian nuns were murdered at the entrance of the parish church, Father Christian wrote to the abbot general: The'communities of men seem to be standing by their option to remain. This is clear so far for the Jesuits, the Little Brothers of Jesus, all the White Fathers. It is also clear for us. At Tibhirine as elsewhere this option has its risks. That is obvious. Each one has told me that he wants to take them, in a journey of faith into the future and in sharing the present with neighbors who have always been very close friends of ours._The grace of this gift iis given to us from day to day, very simply. At the end of September we had another nocturnal "visit." This time the "brothers of the mountain" wanted to use our telephone. We pretended to listen in, then emphasized the contradiction between our way of life and any kind of complicity with what could harm the life of another. They gave us assurances, but the threat was there, supported by arms. (13 November 1994) On 16 December, after more cflreful and prayerful discussion, the brothers again took a vote to confirm their decisions. At this time the archbishop of Algiers, Henri Teissier, thanked them for taking the risk of prolonging their presence and their witness, telling them how significant was their presence of prayer and daily work in Tibhirine for the whole Christian community of Algeria. He thanked them for their fidelity and courage. The Testament of Father Christian It was during the previous Advent of 1993 that Father Christian had composed his "Testament," to be opened only after his death. This was done on 23 May 1996 when his and his bro,thers' passing was announced. There is no doubt but that this testament will be cherished as one of the great spiritual classics of the 20th century-- though surely that is not what this humble and transparent monk would ever have intended. Let us share it,with you in full: Review for Religious When an A-DIEU is envisaged. If it should happen one day--and it could be today--that I become a victim of the terrorism which now seems to encompass all the foreigners living in Algeria, I would like my community, my church, my family, ¯ to remember that my life was given to God and to this country; ¯ to accept that the One Master of all life was not a stranger to this brutal departure; ¯ to pray for me--for how should I be found worthy of such an offering? ¯ to be able to associate this death with so many other equally violent ones that have been allowed to fall into the indifference of anonymity. My life has no more value than any other. Nor any less value. In any .case, it has not the innocence of childhood. I have lived long enough to know that I am an accom-plice in the evil which seems, alas, to prevail in the world, and even in that evil which would strike me blindly. I should like, when the time comes, to have enough lucidity to beg forgiveness of God and of my brothers and sisters in the human family, and at the same time to forgive with all my heart the one who would strike me down. , I could not desire such a death~ It seems to me impor-tant to state this. I don't see, in fact, how I could rejoice if the people I love were indiscriminately accused of my murder. It would be too high a price to pay for what will be called, perhaps, the "grace of martyrdom" to owe this to an Algerian, whoever he may be, especially if he says he is acting in fidelity to what he believes to be Islam. I know the contempt in wtiich the Algerians as a whoie can be held. I know, too, the caricatures of Islam which ,encourage a certain Islamism. It is too easy to give oneself a good conscience in iden-tifying this religious way with the fundamentalist ideology of its extremists. " For me, Algeria and Islam are something different: they are body and soul. I have proclaimed it enough, I think, seeing and know-ing what I have received from them, finding here so often that direct line bringing the gospel that I learned at my mother's knee, my very first church; finding it precisely in Algeria, and already in the reverence of believing Muslims. My death, obviously, will appear to justify those who Novevnber-Deconber 1996 Pennington ¯ The Cistercian Martyrs hastily judged me naive or idealistic: "Let him tell us now what he thinks of them!" But these .must know that at last my most insistent curiosity will be satisfied. For this is what I shall be able to do, if God wills: immerse my gaze in that of the Father to contemplate with him his children of Islam as he sees them, all shining with the glory of Christ, fruit of his Passion, filled with the gift of the Spirit, whose secret joy will always be to establish communion and to refashion the likeness in playing with the differences. For this life lost, totally mine and totally theirs, I thank God, who seems to have wished it entirely for the sake of that joy in and in spite of everything. In this thank-you where, once and for all, all is said about my life, I certainly include you, friends of yesterday and today, and you, 0 my friends of this place, at the side of my mother and my father, of my sisters and my brothers and their families--the hundredfold given as he had promised! And you, too, my last-minute friend, who would not have known what you were doing; yes, for you too I say this thank-you and this a-dieu--to commend you to the God in whose face I see yours. And may he grant to us to find each other, happy thieves, in Paradise, if it please.God, the Father of us both. Amen.t Inshallah.t Algiers, 1 December 1993 Tobhirine, 1.January 1994 Christian Has ever an executioner been addressed so lovingly: "my last-minute friend . , . I see your face in the face of God. may we find each other in Paradise"? The "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do" of the Master is echoed with a fullness rarely heard in the long annals of discipleship. Greater love than this no one has. The Time Approaches Two more nuns were shot in Algeria on 3 September 1995. Ten missionaries had now been slain. After the funeral Father Christian wrote a letter to the abbot general in Rome: The celebration had a beautiful atmosphere of serenity and offering. It brought together a very small church, whose Review for Religious remaining members are perfectly conscious that the logic of their presen(+ must include henceforth the possibility of a violent death. It is for many a new and radical plunge, as it were, into the very charism of their congregation., and also a return to the source of the first call. For all that, all of us clearly desire that none of these Algerians, to whom our consecration binds us in the name of the love which God has for them, ever wound this love by killing any of us, any of our brethren. Lord, disarm me and disarm them. A few months later Father Christopher wrote these prophetic lines at the end of a poem: Finally, my friends, let's get it straight: I belong to him and follow his steps to the fullest truth of my Easter. On the night of 26-27 March 1996, Mohammed, the layman who helped the monks, was roused from his sleep--he lived with his family in a cottage at the gate of the monastery--by the "brothers of the mountain." They said they came for Brother Luc, the doctor, to take him to care for some of their men who were wounded. They crashed through into the monastery. When they demanded that Brother Luc come with them, Father Christian refused to allow it in view of Brother's age and serious asthmatic condition. With this the armed band rounded up all the monks they could find. Fortunately two were sleeping in another building and escaped capture, as did the priests and sis-ters in the guesthouse. The seven monks were carried off into the night and nothing further was heard of them until a London Arabic newspaper, A1 Hayat, published extracts from a communication of the GIA dated 18 April. It said that the emir did not recognize the aman, the protection that his predecessor accorded the monks; that it was illicit because the monks "have not ceased to invite Muslims to be evangelized, to display their slogans and symbols, and to com-memorate their feasts with solemnity." He went on, "Monks who live among the working classes can be legitimately killed . They live with people and draw them away from the divine path, urging them to be evangelized. It is also licit to apply to them what applies to lifelong unbelievers when they are prisoners of war: murder, slavery, or exchange for Muslim prisoners." Only later did the French government acknowledge that on 20 November-December 1996 Pennington ¯ The Cistercian Martyrs April the GIA had made a tape on which they required the seven monks to speak as proof that they were still alive. This tape was delivered to the government a week later. There were rumors of secret negotiations. But the monks would not have wanted to win their freedom at the cost of the lives of others, which would cer-tainly have been the case if the captured GIA terrorists were released to wreak more violence. The Martyrdom Although there had been some ambiguous statements from the French government in this regard, President Chirac stated formally on 20 May that there would be no negotiations with the terrorists regarding an "exchange of prisoners." This seems to have settled the mfitter. On 23 May, Radio Medi 1 in Tangiers read extracts from a GIA communiqud announcing that the seven monks had been beheaded on 21 May. Some doubt as to the verac-ity of this report lingered. But the French government, now admitting it had received the earlier secret communication from the GIA, confirmed the authenticity of the radio report. On Thursday evening, 23 May, in a powerfully symbolic act watched by millions on television, Cardinal Lustiger of Paris extinguished the seven candles which, in the presence of Christian, Muslim, and Jewish leaders, he had lit seven weeks earlier as a prayer and a hope for the release of the seven monks. Muslim-Christian Relations The se'~en monks of Our Lady of Atlas had dedicated their monastic lives to furthering the growth of healthy and life-giving relations between Muslims and Christians, who shared faith in and worship of the God of our common father, Abraham. At first impulse one might say this sacrilegious butchery had decimated their life's mission. But in fact, according to the paradoxical logic of an all-loving God, it gave it a whole new impetus. Rabah Kebir, the leader of the Islamic Salvation Front, who had earlier demanded of the GIA the release of the seven monks, now spoke out most forcefully: "I strongly condemn this criminal act, which runs absolutely contrary to the principles of Islam." Kahdidja Khalil of the High Council of French Muslims went further: "We strongly condemn this savage and barbaric act. It is Review for Religious forbidden in the holy Koran to touch 'all servants of God,' and that means priests and rabbis as well." The High Council had issued a fatwa, a solemn religious decree, declaring the monks' abduction illegal and calling for a day of fasting to pray for their release. In his address on Pentecost to the faithful in the piazza of St. Peter's, Pope John Paul II said: "Despite our deep sorrow, we thank God for the witness of love given by these religious. Their fidelity and constancy give honor to the church and surely will be seeds of reconciliation and peace for the Algerian people, with whom they were in solidarity." Also on Pentecost Sunday, in a symbolically powerful gesture once again, Cardinal Lustiger relit the seven candles before the high altar of Notre Dame Cathedral as a sign of reconciliation, declaring that the monks had not died in vain, but rather "for life, for love, and for reconciliation." The Funeral The fullest confirmation of the sacrifice of the seven Trappist brothers came on 30 May, only a few hours before the abbot gen-eral's arrival in Algeria for the celebration in honor of the martyrs. That morning the mutilated remains of the seven monks were found in a heap beside the road not far from Mtdta. They had evi-dently been interred for a time at some other location. The remains were placed in very simple wooden coffins and taken to the military hospital in Algiers. There the abbot general had the sorrowful task of identifying the remains. On the same day as the remains were found, Cardinal L~on Etienne Duval, the father of the church in Algeria and a great friend and supporter of the monks, completed his life's journey at the age of ninety-two. His funeral Mass on 2 June would be one with the Mass in the Cathedral of Our Lady of Africa for his seven sons and brothers. The Holy Father sent Cardinal Francis Arinze to represent him and preside. The two surviving monks of Our Lady of Atlas, Fathers Jean-Pierre and Amedeus, stood at the altar with him, as did the archbishop of Algiers and the Trappist abbot general and procurator general. In the sanctuary were the cardinal archbishop of Paris, Jean-Marie Lustiger, three other French bish-ops, and five ministers of the Algerian government. Seven of Father Christopher's brothers and sisters were present. November-Dece~nber 1996 Pennin~ton ¯ Tbe Cistercian Martyrs Cardinal Arinze in his funeral oration amplified the words the Holy Father had used on Pentecost: "The monks suffered unheard of violence . They gave all men and women an exam-ple of total sacrifice in honor of God and religion . The monks of M6d6a established friendly relations with their Muslim neigh-bors. They offered their services, especially in the field of medicine . They also contributed to the development of spir-itual dialogue and in this way gave evidence that sincere Muslims and Christians are able to gather together and mutually enrich each other also in the sphere of the spirit." Two days later, on Tuesday, 4 June, a small party was trans-ported by helicopter to M6d6a and on to the now deserted monastery at Tibhirine under heavy military escort. The remains of the brothers had been brought there the day before. The Muslim villagers, who loved the monks and had so often benefited from their ministrations, had dug the seven graves in the ceme-tery by the monastic church. The funeral service within the church was simple and brief, that at the graveside even more so. No news media or outsiders had been allowed to come. The brothers were laid to rest with those of their community who had gone before. If these Trappist brothers have been singularly blessed in receiving the grace of martyrdom, in their heroic victory are not we all also singularly blessed? Their witness of steadfast faith and a love that does not flinch in the face of death not only inspires us, but wins for us the grace to follow their example, each in our own calling. We have all been baptized into the death of Christ. We live that death so that in death we may enter into his risen life, We can rejoice in the cruel death of these men because we know and believe they h~ve truly entered into that life, the life for which they longed with all their being. Review for Religious CATHY ARATA Death Questions and Life Questions Nila, short for Petronila, was a woman approaching fifty years of age when I first saw her, but to look at her one would have guessed that she was in her mid-sixties. There was little pleasure in her life, no leisure, lots of heartache, and plenty of hard work. It was now the end of September, and she had been suffering from a severe case of hepati-tis. Her doctor had told her many times that what she needed most was rest, but the doctor had no idea of the circumstances in which she lived and moved and had her being. Nila and her husband, daughter, and son lived in a small isolated village with fifteen other families. The vil-lage has no water and no electricity and is a steep, ardu-ous climb from anywhere else. All the houses are adobe, with tin roofs and earthen floors. There is no school, no health clinic, no store of any kind. To get her daily supply of water, Nila had to walk downhill for about fifteen minutes and then t.rudge uphill with a five-gallon jug of water on her head. She usually did this three times a day. When the housekeeping chores were done, she went to the stream to do the family wash. On the days that she needed firewood, it was another long walk to gather the wood and then return home carrying up to fifty pounds of it on her head. I had seen Nila a few weeks before. Her yellow eyes Cathy Arata SSND worked in El Salvador for seven years. Her present address is 6401 North Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21212. November-December 1996 life and death Arata ¯ Death Questions and L~e (~uestions gave ,no doubt that she did indeed have hepatitis. But that was back in July, and now we were entering October. It was about 7:30 in the evening, and I had just driven into the village where I live. As I was getting out of the car, someone told me that Nila had just been carried down the mountain in a hammock and that she was seriously ill. At first I did not pay much attention. It had been a long day and I was tired. I wanted only to get into my lit-tle house, close the door, and not be bothered. I was also impa-tient at the expectation that I would go and visit her. Well, I did go and was taken off guard by what I saw when I arrived at the place where they had taken. Nila. It was a small one-room adobe house, dark inside with a candle or two burning. The family, too poor to have closets, had boxes of clothing piled on tables along the wall. There were three simple wood-frame beds; on each one sat three or four children. Nila was in the mid-dle of the floor on a straw mat. She was, I guess you could say, semiconscious, writhing in pain. The small house was crowded with neighbors who had come to gawk at her. Close to where she lay, there were ten or twelve chickefis scratching on the floor for a morsel to eat. I was angry and frustrated with all the people who were stand-ing around "doing nothing," probably because of my own com-pulsive need to do something. So, when Nila's brother asked me if I could drive her to the clinic about three miles away, I readily agreed to do so. I went for the car, and the men began to lift Nila into the hammock in order to carry her to a spot where I would be able to meet them with the car. It was about 8:30 p.m. and the clinic was closed. In E1 Salvador all doctors and teachers have to give one year of com-munity service after their schooling. The doctor of this little vil-lage was a government doctor and was not happy to see us when we went to her home to tell her we had a patient who needed help. She was undoubtedly as tired as I, and she angrily said, "Why didn't you come during hours?" But she relented. Nila's brother and her older daughter literally dragged her from the car to the clinic because, although she was still alive, she was dead weight. Recognizing immediately that she needed a hospital, the doctor was harsh and cold and scolded us for not coming sooner. Nila died the next day in the hospital in Ilobasco, a small city about an hour and a half away. Her older son, a guerrilla.during the war and now a member of the newly formed National Police, Review for Relig4otts was with her. He borrowed money to buy the simple, crude wooden box in which to carry her back to the village. The box, with the remains of Nila, was placed on the back of an old pickup truck and driven over a dirt road much in need of repair. The news of Nila's death jolted me because I was taken off guard, not only by her death, but also by my own coldness and lack of compassion. That evening, when I arrived at the house where the wake was to be held, most of the community had already gathered, and, as was the custom, the men were outside playing cards and drinking homemade liquor while the women and children were inside praying and singing devotional hymns. The coffin was in the middle of the floor, in the exact spot where I had found Nila two nights earlier. It had survived the journey from Ilobasco and was now surrounded by flowers of many kinds which the neighbors had brought from their gardens. Most of them were placed in "vases" of Nestl~ instant-milk cans. A candle burned at each corner of the coffin, which was so constructed that a small piece of glass made Nila's face visible. But, because the house was so hot, steam had formed on the inside of the glass, and her face could not be seen clearly. The chickens were scratching around, but no one seemed to notice. After all, it is not unusual to have chickens roaming through the house. Two pigs came in and were shooed away. As we prayed the rosary, my mind flashed to Jefferson City, Missouri, where at the same moment Mary Margaret Johanning, our former SSND international leader, lay dying. I could not help comparing the way Nila died and the way Mary Margaret was dying. Both women were too young to die, and both believed fervently in an all-loving God. Perhaps that is all they had in common. It seemed obvious that, as Mary Margaret died, her God was present to her in the doctors and nurses who tried to lengthen her life, using all the newest technology that medicine has to offer. God was present to her too in the hundreds of cards and notes she received from her sisters around the world. Above all, The news of Nila's death jolted me because I was taken off guard, not only by her death, but also by my own coldness and lack of compassion. November-December 1996 Arata ¯ Death Questions and Life Questions God was present in her devoted family and host of loving friends who accompanied her in her dying. And Nila? Was God present as she writhed on the earthen floor surrounded by chickens looking for a morsel to eat? When her husband arrived at the wake drunk and vomiting, swinging his .machete in the air, was God there too? Was God outside with the men who were drinking and playing cards? It seems as if God treats us all very differently, and for a long time I have been angry with this God of ours. I have been resent-ful and frustrated that God is not the God I think God should be! God should not allow such things as Nila's cruel poverty and harsh dying and death, nor should God allow wars and concen-tration camps and bullets and bombs and mortars that carry atroc-ities beyond human imagining. God should put a moratorium on those things insurance companies call "acts of God," such as earth-quakes, floods, typhoons, and hurricanes. I have been resentful toward myself, too, because I am pow-erless in the face of such evil. My resentment has shown itself in my impatience, my coldness, my frustration at not being able to do what God is not doing: changing unjust structures, wiping out poverty, replacing wars with lasting justice and peace, and con-trolling the forces of nature. The past few months I have been gifted by my community with some sabbatical time: time to step out of a very active min-istry spanning thirty-three years and reflect on the meaning of those years, time to pause long enough to quiet my own com-pulsive need to right the wrong in the world and, in the silence and space, allow God to intimate to me that I was forgetting who I was and that I was assuming the role that was properly God's! Most of my questions, though, remain: Why such evil in the world? Why such a disparity between those who are poor and those who are rich? Why such a disparity of natural resources from country to country? Why th