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Frank Yannacone, July 22, 2013 ; Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. ; The following is an oral history interview with Frank Yannacone. The interview was conducted on July 22, 2013, by Lorrie Rands. Frank discusses his memories of life on 25th Street. ; 75p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 videodisc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Frank Yannacone Interviewed by Lorrie Rands 22 July 2013 Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Frank Yannacone Interviewed by Lorrie Rands 22 July 2013 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in Special Collections. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. After World War II, the railroad business declined. Some government agencies and businesses related to the defense industry continued to gravitate to Ogden after the war—including the Internal Revenue Regional Center, the Marquardt Corporation, Boeing Corporation, Volvo-White Truck Corporation, Morton-Thiokol, and several other smaller operations. However, the economy became more service oriented, with small businesses developing that appealed to changing demographics, including the growing Hispanic population. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management Special Collections All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Yannacone, Frank, an oral history by Lorrie Rands, 22 July 2013 , WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, Special Collections, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Frank Yannacone July 22, 2013 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Frank Yannacone. The interview was conducted on July 22, 2013, by Lorrie Rands. Frank discusses his memories of life on 25th Street. LR: Okay it's July 22, 2013. We are in the home of Mr. Frank Yannacone doing an oral history about 25th street and his memories of the buildings and the his memories of the life on that street. So Mr. Yannacone thank you so much for letting us be in your home today. I'm sorry, I'm Lorrie Rands doing the interview, Melissa Johnson is here with me as well as your daughter in law. FY: Marva LR: Marva? FY: Well Yannacone LR: Yannacone, well of course. I told you when I walked in my blonde is showing. MY: That's okay LR: I'm having my day. So Mr. Yannacone I would love for you just to start—go ahead and start at the Broom Hotel and make your way up and down the street. FY: Okay the Broom Hotel. I remember it in the 1950s, it was in kind of a state of disrepair. When it was built it was supposed to have been the best between Denver and San Francisco—of course I heard the same claim for the Hotel Utah when that was built. But anyhow going west was, as I recall, Ross and Jack's Restaurant, which at that time it had a nice art deco façade and a lot of neon. The story was that Ross and Jack had a café and they got into some 1 disagreement so they put a wall down the middle and had Ross's Café and Jack's Café. It went on like that for many years and then they decided maybe that was pretty stupid so they took the wall out and put the nice façade and it was Ross and Jack's Café instead of Ross's Café and Jack's Café. Early history says that Jack Dempsey washed dishes there before he became a big time boxer. I just heard that, I don't know. Next I believe was Morris Men Shop, which was a men's Habersasher, but he was also a clearing house for Basque sheep herders. They'd come in from Elko, check—if they needed a job or looking for someone or mail drop, he was the clearing house for the Basques. Next I think that little bar on Kiesel and across the street where the Federal Building is now, on Kiesel, there was a little café, little diner. Next was Hemingway and Moser had a cigar factory there at least for a while. I can remember standing in the street watching them roll cigars and their brand had something to do with a blue whale or a blue point or something nautical. Next was Ogden Blue, a new business, just a little hole in the wall and now what, 60 years later they're still around and thriving I guess. There are a lot of assorted shops, restaurants, bars, I don't remember the rest of the block, but I remember a Hotel which was on Grant, still there. Next door was the Friendly Tavern, and Saturday nights my wife and I would go to hear the Salvation Army band play about 7:00 every Saturday night. Had a little brass band, I don't know 5/6 members and Sally's would go hit all the bars with their tambourines, collecting change. Starting in that block you had a lot of little restaurants and bars, a lot of Japanese. The whore houses were upstairs still 2 operating. I guess they operated until I don't know, close to 1960 and they— when they closed them up of course all that upstairs room turned into housing in the door to the upstairs started appearing little notices that upstairs was a private dwelling, no trespassing and as I recall there was a shooting down there. Some drunk insisted that it was a whore house and wouldn't take no for an answer and I think he got gunned down, that's my memory. I can't say for certainty, but for some reason it's in my mind. There was a little Japanese restaurant, little ma and pa place. Old wooden booths, hole in the wall, dark—somebody took us there and it had the best damn shrimp, even better than the Utah Noodle, they were great. All that block was mixed housing, bars, stores, shops, and whore houses. Down on the Lincoln end about the 3rd place from the corner there was a grocery store and a hotel upstairs. The name Howard comes into mind and as I mentioned last week I never talked to the guy, but I bought a Medal D'oro which is an Italian espresso coffee. He had it; he also had Luzianne coffee which was a chicory Cajun coffee and Sorgaum syrup. The only thing I can figure, I never asked, but the only thing that I can figure is the black population, a lot of them working on the railroad and they were on Wall Avenue. LR: Was the black population at this time allowed to come into the store or was it after? FY: Now that store, 25th street was different see, kind of. LR: I know the North side was for the whites and the south side was for the Negro population. 3 FY: No, no, no, no, no. The citizens, the residents lived on Wall, close to the railroad. Then they started moving up to Lincoln, but they were segregated. That was our ghetto misnomer of course cause I don't know where that started. A ghetto was a walled area in Europe and old Europe. Somehow or other now—we used to call them slums or something. Now they're ghettos, I don't know. Anyhow, there were a lot of Winos I mean it was kind of like skid row, 25th street. After they closed the whore houses it really went downhill. It was a pretty reasonable place, you never went out on a Saturday night without—you went to the Star Noodle or the China Temple, that ended your evening. It was quite civilized. They had—I can't remember the hotel on the corner it's gone now on the northeast corner of Wall and 25th street. MJ: Was it the Healy? FY: Might have been. I remember when they tore it down, nobody then wanted to put in sprinklers or fix it or something and they tore it down. Next door was the China Temple and next door was the Depot Drug and they had a sign out, "prescription filled." It was a regular drug store and a lot of bars. There was a time, it was before my time when you could do anything on 25th street. You could do banking, you could transact business, you could eat, buy clothing and they had hotels of course because the railroad was right there. There were—I saw it in the paper just recently, the Kokomo Club doing some repairs and they found some old artifacts. Kokomo Club was going strong when I came to Ogden, and there's a bar probably been running for geez anyhow 70/75 years, maybe longer and still going. 4 MJ: Yeah we are going to be interviewing the owners of it. FY: There was another one called I think Pagano's. Well anyhow we'll go across the street. That corner building is still there. It was a stone building and next to it were some small shops including a souvenir shop, had a big sign up, one cent postcards. You probably can remember that. That sign was there when postcards were a nickel or more. MJ: Now is this off of Wall down on that end? FY: We're coming back from Wall now. We're now on that big stone building, I don't know I don't remember what it was, could've been a bank when it was built, but it's still there. Then coming up, there were frame buildings, shops, big front windows painted red as I recall many of them, especially that one with the one cent postcards. You've got a picture somewhere I'm sure of it. MJ: That block right there, just off of Wall, we have very few pictures of. I think that first building is the Murphy Block and we've been talking to the family that owned that building, trying to get photos. FY: Well there's a picture in what did I tell ya? UtahHikes.com. Old Ogden, there's a picture from the terminal and it was taken after the hotel was torn down. But the building on the other side is still there and I imagine if you look close with a glass you can see that sign out there with the one cent. Then you came to the what did I say the name was? That hotel? LR: The Broom? No. FY: Where is that book? 5 MJ: Oh the Royal Hotel? FY: Royal! That was Weeklys'. That was where the black train people stayed. That was all segregated you know, until 64. It was the Royal Hotel and downstairs was the bar, the Porter's and Waiter's Club, which was a nightclub for all the blacks and stories about big bands coming and that's where Annabelle married Weekly. Then after he died she opened Annabelle's, which was a fried chicken place. I wasn't into fried chicken, my wife was, but I could eat her chicken and I told you the story why I could eat her chicken. She said it was cooked by Mexicans in lard, and I checked, all her cooks were Mexican and they had big, cast iron skillets and Dutch ovens and you could smell the lard if you got close to the pass out window. Then last I heard about her, she took a degree in sociology and was working for the state. Now there's a guy around town and he comes here occasionally, he's 93 years old and he's a musician and his name is Joe… MJ: Joe McQueen? FY: Eastman? No Joe, MJ: Joe McQueen? FY: McQueen. MJ: The saxophone player. FY: Yeah, he used to play there. I understand he still—he's 93 years old and he still comes up here and takes people shopping and runs errands and stuff. I never had the chance to meet him yet, but I understand he and Annabelle were coming 6 back from Wendover and he was driving, had a wreck somewhere west of Tooele and she got killed. MJ: Yeah that was— FY: Can't be too many years ago. MJ: Four years ago? Five? LR: I thought it was a while ago. MJ: No it wasn't all that long ago. MY: Yeah, I remember something about that. FY: It was fairly recent, fairly recent. MJ: It was shortly after the document that Isaac Goeckeritz did. He filmed both Joe McQueen and Annabelle and it was about a year or so after that. FY: Now, story is she was the highest price call girl in Ogden. MJ: Oh really? FY: That was the story, she was a looker. When she was young, I mean she was a looker. Now we're talking about nice—a date, civility of 25th street. We had the whore houses all the doctors were in the First Security Bank building, maybe a few across at the Eccles building, but once a month those girls would go for their physical. I knew someone who worked at one of the dress shops and there were several of them in that block from 25th to 24th. There was Clifton's, they're still around. There was Hughes, I think Mode O' Day or something. Anyhow, the girls liked when the, I mean the clerks liked when the girls went for their physicals 7 because they shopped on the way home and spent money. These sales clerks worked on a base plus commission so they were happy to see them. The ladies they walked down the street you know it was civilized; you could go down and not worry about getting shot up or something. After they closed up these places then it got tough. That's when it became skid row. There were winos and drunks, it was tough. That's what happened to that Howard Hotel or grocery store or whatever it was. It was a yellow brick building. Some wino got hallucinations one night and he was cold and lit a fire under the sink and burned the whole damn place down. Yeah there were panhandlers, it was tough. The only time you went there, you went to the China Temple or the Star Noodle. MY: That was it. FY: Okay then we get up on that corner. There was a stack yard. A stack yard's an electrical place where they got transformers and I think that's still there, I'm not sure. MJ: I'm not sure either. FY: On Lincoln, Lincoln and Wall, or Lincoln and 25th. LR: I thought that was the building, wasn't that where Rose Davies building was? FY: No that's on the other side. We're still between Wall and Lincoln. LR: Hmm I thought we were on Lincoln now. MJ: So right on the corner there of Lincoln? 8 FY: There was I think a stack yard. Maybe on the wrong block, but it's a stack yard. I call it a stack yard, it's a place where the power company has transformers and wires coming in and going out. A substation I guess they call them. LR: There's one I seem to recall when we were at that Karen's Café. There was something behind it that reminded me of a substation so maybe that's it. FY: Well see I haven't been down that part of town—I've been here a year and haven't been down there. I figure it's not interesting anymore. LR: It actually is, it might be worth your while to go down and look at it again. FY: Well I hear they got a lot of overpriced restaurants. MJ: Yeah there's a few of those. FY: A lot of glitz and stuff like that and I don't walk well. It's of no historical interest to me anymore. Okay let's cross the street and go to El Boracho. MY: My class wanted to have our picture taken in front of it, but the nuns at St. Joseph's High School didn't think that would be good. LR: I can't imagine why. FY: Now across the street where the El Boracho is now I understand there was a restaurant called Patricia's or something or Poncho's, Mexican, Mexican place. My sister was over visiting from Cheyenne and she was going to take the bus back. I don't remember, hell I think that was the only—by then that was the only way to go back. I think the trains had quit running. Anyhow she wanted some authentic Mexican food and we took her in there. The food was delicious and I 9 don't think she enjoyed a bite because she was worried about if it was safe to be in there. MY: I could see Betty doing that. FY: Anyhow, the Rose Rooms were on top of El Boracho and I worked with a young fellow at the packing house. There was a garage across Ogden Avenue from the Hotel Ben Lomond and it was a parking garage, typical downtown parking garage that they had in those days. Hotel guests parked their cars there and business people, dropped their cars off for oil changes, there was no 15 minute Jiffy Lube back then. Anyhow he had a part time job while he was in high school and Rose had a big four door Sedan, I can't remember. He described, would tell us about it and she'd call—she'd want her car to go for a drive. He would have to deliver it, he was the gopher. He'd park the car and then he'd go upstairs and have to go back in the kitchen to give her the keys and usually he said some of the girls were in there having coffee and talking. It was afternoon, slow time of day I guess and he can remember hustling them. He could also remember they'd laugh at him you know, just a kid. He kept talking about it when he was older and I guess hey that was an experience. I worked with another guy whose aunt and uncle owned the Montana Hotel, next door which was a three story building. He spent a summer or so with them one time. He would talk about in the summer he'd go up on the third floor up on the roof and look over at the second floor roof next door and watch the girls sunbathing. Hey that's pretty thrilling stuff for high school kids I tell ya. MY: They didn't have the internet. 10 FY: Then it came up the street there to the Star Noodle. Now the Star Noodle—that fellow I don't remember his name, but I used to know it. He built Dai Enkotai out there on Highway 89, out in South Ogden. Dai Enkotai, Wayside Inn is the translation. When he built that there was no water up there on that part of the bench. 500 bucks would buy you an acre of land—I even had 500 bucks. He would go up there with his pickup loaded with 50 gallon drums and hand water all that planting he did. Last I saw it I was out there geez I don't know, 20/30 years ago had dinner there and everything has mature and I don't know if you've ever been in. It's a Japanese Tea House, you know the nice roof and the shoji doors, shoji doors you know are the wood and parchment, beautiful place. Anyhow he's planted all that stuff, everyone thought he was nuts. Then they built I think a Rockport dam and suddenly there was water, you couldn't buy 500 dollar an acre anymore. The place started booming. Anyhow I understand that sign is somewhere around. MJ: The Star Noodle? Yeah, the last I heard about it the city is holding onto it because they want it preserved and they want it actually put back up on the building as kind of a historic piece. FY: I'll tell you how that works. Up in Rexburg there was a theatre built in 1932 or 3. It was art deco. A big neon sign outside, and the company who owned that decided to abandon it and they built these stadium theatres. Somehow the city caught wind of it, they were dismantling everything, and the city was able to buy it. The stipulation, you can't show movies in there. Anyhow it took 10 or 15 years—we had an enlightened councilman up there. There was a problem with parking on 11 the main street and he says instead of the city spending money trying to restore that, let's tear it down and build a parking lot. Typical American thinking, it's 50 years old, get rid of it. Anyhow between the college, which did a lot of the engineering and design work free and a lot of student help and volunteers, they restored that building and they rebuilt the marquee. All neon and arrows and beautiful things. The only difference now instead of posting letters it's digital. It's on all day and most of the night, well until midnight every day. They post the weather and civic happenings and announcements like that, beautiful. Could've been lost you know? LR: So can you see them doing that with the Star Noodle, with that property? FY: I can see them with the sign yeah and the façade. MJ: I think that's the goal. Right now the building is empty and the owner is—the city has told him that he has to restore it. He can't tear it down, he has to restore it so he's working on that and right now the city is holding onto the sign for safe keeping so it will get restored. FY: See when they built the—in Salt Lake City, I can't remember, what was the shopping mall they built right across from the temple? LR: Crosswords, Crosswords Mall. MJ: Yeah FY: Then they went across the street and rebuilt the ZCMI block. That façade is the original, the old cast iron and they've done that in a lot of places. The inside, god only know what it is, but the outside is still there. Yeah they can do that with the 12 Star Noodle. Then up from that there were some assorted businesses, bars, I can't remember until you hit the Greyhound Terminal and I remember when they built that. I don't know what was there, but I remember when they built that. I think, and I'm not sure there, because reminds me of an art deco building, you know with that curved front. I can't be sure and next door was the big old home, the Elks Lodge. See the bakery, the bakery bought that—now if you're on Lincoln Avenue going south from El Boracho there was a red brick two story apartment building there. Had 6 or 8 apartments in there and I knew a guy, he was a colored fellow, worked with him. Lacey Jones and I can't remember his wife's name, but she was quite a character. Anyhow Lacey lived there and I remember when he bought it, now that's part of the bakery property too. Had to be in the 70s, it was still there, an apartment house. MJ: The Elks Lodge you mean? FY: No behind El Boracho. Then of course you went up 25th street to the Ben Lomond and that corner office used to be a Union Pacific Ticket office, so you didn't have to go to the depot. In those days you had 64 trains a day come through Ogden, you could've gone anywhere. Then the numbnuts guys, typical, what did they do? They went in and tore down all that cast iron canopies except for one. Filled in the subway, now they want to restore it and got no money. It was there! LR: So you're not an Ogden native? FY: No I came here in 1950. 13 LR: You're originally from? FY: Pennsylvania. LR: What brought you to Ogden, your job? FY: Work, yeah. I came out to school, married and then came to work for Swift. I worked there until they closed. There's another—the viaduct, used to walk across the viaduct, it was old and wooden. See you people wouldn't remember it because they rebuilt it before you were probably even alive. MY: It seems like there wasn't the one that's there now that I remember. FY: Well then you remember the old one. MY: I remember the old one. FY: You're older than these gals, yeah. It was iron with framed deco. It was 2 by, I don't know, 2 inch lumber on edge with black top on it. You walked up and then when you got across the yard before you hit the river there was a stairway, and I walked it many times like all other people to go to work. You'd walk down and it'd dump you off right there where there was a ramp that went down and the stairs took you down under the ramp right there to the packing house. West Ogden was Bertagnoli's Motel, Mountain View Motel, I think it was Bertagnoli. Used to be a motel, course we had stock shows and stock yards and Ogden was a booming town. Anyhow I noticed it's now an apartment, Mountain View apartments, but its story was he made his money as a bootlegger and then built the motel. They had the big stock shows, my father-in-law worked for, as a young fellow, he worked for Covey of Covey Bagley and Dayton, sheep people, 14 and the old man he's the one that built Little American over by Granger, I met him. My father-in-law came down from Logan to go to the stock show and we went down there one time and it's in November, cold weather you know. I don't know if you've ever been to a stock show, but they have the pavilion and they give parts of it to different exhibitors and they use straw or hay to kind of fence it off. There's no heat and we went down and that's the year I won a little leather suitcase from Read Brothers, when they were still on 24th street in the leather business. We had had a judging contest and they called me at home, you know you went in and gave your name and phone number. They called says you won the prize for the judging and I had that suitcase for years. Then somebody spilled something in it and I gave it to the DI. I wish I hadn't cause it had their plate on it you know. Anyhow we're walking down through there and you can see they all have big banners these places and you could see Covey Bagley and Dayton Herefords. We're walking down the aisle and my father-in-law says, "My god there's Anson," or Anselm, Ansom, A-N- I think S-C-L-M, or A-N-S-C-M, anyhow that was his name, Covey. Here's this old guy in a black overcoat and gray hair sitting on a bale of hay and we walked up to him and he got up and he says, "By god Tommy how the hell are you?" It had to have been WWI when he quit so it had to be like 40 or 50 years and he still remembered him. I thought that was just great. There's a guy see I wished I had recorded, there were real tape recorders when he was living. After his wife died he moved in with his son and he would tell stories about herding sheep out of Cokeville, Wyoming. There were so many 15 sheep and he said there were so many sage hens and in the spring when they started moving the sheep the ground would be yellow from sage hen eggs that the sheep trampled. Now you know they're endangered. MY: I've never heard of a sage hen. FY: Sage hen is a quail, some kind of a quail. There's a half a dozen kind of them. MY: They're cute FY: Anyhow you went up 25th street and I don't remember what was there before they built the Ramada Inn, but the Ramada Inn. God that had to be around 1970. MY: Yeah I'm trying to think what was there and I can't remember either. The church, I'd go to the church there FY: Then across the street was a church and they sold it and it was the American Legion Hall for many years. I don't know what it is now. MY: It used to be Kamikaze's. MJ: Yeah, it still is. FY: Oh, a club? MY: It's a bar. MJ: Yeah. MY: Then a Presbyterian church. FY: Then across the street you had Larkin's Mortuary and wasn't that the street where they had the White, the dance hall? 16 MY: That was on 25th and Adams. LR: White City. FY: White City, yeah. MY: Cool place, I remember. FY: Hell that was a big dance hall. It had a roof like the Salt Lake Tabernacle. Big dance hall and they tore that down. You had the Berthana and the White City LR: They were happening spots back in the day. MY: We used to roller-skate at the Berthana up into the 70s. LR: They were happening spots back in the day. They were the place to go. FY: They were dance halls. The Berthana then became a roller rink, but that White City was a dance hall. Yeah it had live music and bands and everybody danced and then you came down the hill. First was Jimmie's Floral, later years you had a little restaurant there called the Canton Low, next to it was a Beauty Shop Supply and next was—Kathy Faunce had a dress top shop, what the hell did she call that? Some fancy name, and then on the corner was Farr's Jewelry. The Canton on the base, on the first floor of the old Masonic Temple on, across from the courthouse. On the main floor was a Chinese restaurant called the Canton. The guy that owned that, and I think Rose who owned half of the Canton Low a little later, she was maybe his wife or his partner. Anyhow it was a big Chinese restaurant and he was going home one night and on the corner there of Adams and 25th there was a wreck, he got hit or whatever. No seatbelts in those days, he ran his car into the curb in front of St. Joe's church, got thrown 17 out, hit his head on the curb and got killed. That was the end of the Canton Café, now I don't recall the sequence of when the Canton closed and the other little place opened, but you had the Ben Lomond Hotel and Royal Shoe Store was next door. Guy sold Red Wings. I bought a pair, 5 bucks. LR: A pair of Red Wings for 5 bucks. FY: 6 inch shoes made in the USA of course, and a guy named Saccamano was his name. Oh and then you had the Orpheum, the Orpheum theater. You know how these theatres had long entries and businesses. Dokas's Greek Restaurant, it was just a lunch counter. It wasn't fancy, but it was Dokas's restaurant and candy store, hand dipped chocolates. You could get a blue plate lunch in there for like 45 cents or something. Then they moved down on Grant, somewhere between I think 24th and 23rd and they still had the candy. They were a wholesaler for tobacco and cigarettes and sundress. God that was a heyday. LR: You mentioned last time about the Bamberger that ran up 25th street. FY: It's in that book, the Bamberger was the interurban. When I grew up they were called Interurban Railroads. They were trolley cars and they went 60/70 miles an hour and I mean they were electric trains, but they were actually high powered trolley cars. You had them between cities and the Bamberger, okay let's go back. Bamberger was the first—he was a Jewish business man. He was a governor I think the only Jewish governor in the state of Utah. He had this railroad between Ogden and Salt Lake, well he started it. He started Lagoon cause he got to Lagoon and they couldn't go further so he started Lagoon and he 18 made some money and then he was able to finish down into Salt Lake. Their terminal, they came in from Logan. I think that was the U & I Railroad. Those railroads would go right down the main street and you could've gone from Franklin to Ogden to Salt Lake, I don't recall past that. They came in on Lincoln, had railroad tracks on Lincoln cause Becker's Brewery was on Lincoln about 21st street. The old Becker Mansion was across on the east side of Lincoln and beautiful old building with columns, sure you got pictures. I was disappointed after coming back after 25 years. Utah still has that 3.2 law. Becker was making 3.2 beer, but he had a place up in Evanston called the Uintah Club beer where he made full strength beer. Every brewery has a bar, bar room. I don't remember what year it was, but they put radios in the switch engines. Now Ogden was big you know, big yards and lots of traffic. Lots of switch engines and they put in radios and they just almost had a riot with the railroad employees because at any given time just about you could find a switch engine parked by the brewery. They'd take turns going up there to have a cool beer, free on the house of course. Then they'd put radios and that kind of put the kibosh, cause they couldn't hide out anymore. The Bamberger came in, you could—see one story leads to another. My wife during the war lived in Logan and her mother played the piano. Rachel could play the piano from 9 years old she was playing in dance bands, bought her own piano. Well in Brigham City at Bushnell Hospital they used to take—my wife and her mother would take the train, the Bamberger over the mountain to Brigham City. She'd entertain, my wife would sing and they'd entertain these guys who 19 were all shot up and god only knows. Anyhow you could take the train all the way to Salt Lake and when it came to Ogden the depot was behind the old post office, 24th street. You'd go north, Pete Vlahos bought that for his office, but then next there was a knitting mill there. Was it Ogden Knitting Mill? MY: Oh yeah. FY: Then the city bought that, the city school district bought that a part of that building or there's a space there. That was the terminal for the Bamberger. They'd come down Lincoln and swing in and unload and then start out. You had a Y right there on Lincoln just north of 24th street. They'd come in then back out and go to Salt Lake. They stayed on Lincoln until St. Joe's School was what? 28th? 29th? MY: Between 27th and 28th on Lincoln. FY: Now did the trolley run past St. Joes? MY: I'm trying to think if there were tracks down that way and I don't think there were. FY: Anyway somewhere down there they cut across, the cut across the Weber River where you take the 31st freeway. Somewhere in that freeway now is where they used to cross the thing and go down and ended up in Hill field. See most of that right away is under I-15, but that interchange on 31st by the freeway coming down from the airport, that was city dump. On the west side of the river was the city dump. MY: Cause there wasn't anything else out there. FY: No, nothing. Oh just sand hills and that was the city dump. 20 LR: So do you recall when the Bamberger stopped running? I wonder if that affected, if that was as big of an impact as when the trains stopped coming in. FY: Well no because see back, during WWII there was about 130 million people in this country. Now you got 330 million, not everybody had a telephone, not everybody had a car. Gas was 15 cents and a car was 500 bucks during the depression. Who the hell had 500 bucks? By the time the Bamberger quit freeways started, Eisenhower started that in the 50s and in the 60s you had pieces of it between here and Salt Lake. Transportation I don't think, was that big a problem because you had Trailways and you had Greyhound, but more people had cars in the 50s. Hell almost everybody had a car. See that puts a different light on it. When Bamberger started, that was in the depression days, public transportation had trolley cars in Ogden. My father-in-law drove a trolley car in Ogden and the yard was—I can remember when they started building houses in there. 27th or 28th above Adams under the hill there was about a half a block or maybe a little more was kind of flat. That was the yards for the trolley cars. They ran up and down Washington Boulevard and when I came to Ogden they had bus service, but there was a big strike. But they had buses running up and down Washington and I think they had one would go up to Harrison and another one would go to West Ogden. It was pretty rudimentary, but people used the bus. Hell I used the bus and Ogden then was like 40,000 people. You had—Wilson Lane was out in the country, but you had Pete's Café which is still there. You had I think taxi service then, but it was pretty limited. Then the trains quit see—I don't 21 know about 67 or 8—those railroads really went at it with a vengeance. Passenger service cost them money, they couldn't make money on people, service got bad. I'll tell you a little story about my mother. She liked taking the trains and she'd stop in Cheyenne to see my sister and then she'd take the train over to see me and then she had an old childhood chum living in California, Colusa, California. She would call from my house to talk to this lady and set up. They'd pick up my mother in Sacramento and she would ride the bus. She liked the bus cause it took you downtown and she liked the trains cause you went into town and you saw the backyards. I enjoyed the trains too for that reason. Anyhow my sister, I had a niece that died and she was nine. The only way my mother could get to the funeral from Pennsylvania to Cheyenne was fly. She was petrified, but she had to do it. After the funeral she came over and visited for a while and she said—now this was, god this had to be in early 60s I guess. Anyhow she said she was on the, at the airport, and she said people would take her by the arm and call her by name and say, "Now you come on, you stand here and if we can get you on this flight," she was flying stand by. She said, "Now you stand here and if there's a place on this plane you know we'll get you on there and if not we'll see about the next flight." She said everybody was so nice, they were friendly. She said every time somebody did that at the airport I thought about the conductors on the trains. "Are we on time," and they'd snarl at ya. 22 "When's the dining car open," and they'd snarl at ya. She started flying after that. She gave up on the railroad. I took a train in 1964 where I had to go through four cars to find a car where I could plug in an electric razor they were that decrepit. Plugged them in and nothing happened. LR: So it's not surprising that they just, it became— FY: I mean they were deliberately doing that. See of course what happened, coincidental with all that was the US Post Office started air mailing mail instead of using the railway mail cars. LR: That was one of the huge reasons why they stopped. FY: Well they had revenue see and the passengers they would put up with, but when the post office cut them out they figured hell these people are costing us money and they went after them. That mail was all sorted by hand and they ran regular runs. I left a message for Charles Trentelman, I didn't leave it in his voicemail because I got somebody at a gift shop. Got a voicemail at the gift shop at the depot and I said, "Tell Trentelman that there's a fellow working at the Ogden post office who started out as a railway mail clerk." So there's still some guy, and when I heard the guy said he's old he must be at least 70. Well yeah he would be. So the Bamberger I don't know when they quit, but they were probably losing money and glad they quit. LR: Something else you mentioned last time that I found fascinating was talking about drinking coffee with Marshall White. I can't remember the whole story anymore, but you talked about drinking coffee with Marshall White. 23 FY: Yeah he came to my house one day and we were visiting about something or other, I don't recall, but we had coffee. You know he was— LR: A decent fellow? FY: See we talked about, I told you about that story about being in the China Temple. LR: You said it was your one regret. FY: See in the context of time—at the time there was two of us. We had an early thing going at the packing house and this guy came in from Portland and I picked him up at the Ben Lomond and said, "Let's stop and have some breakfast." The only place open at 4:00 in the morning was the China Temple. We went in there and sat down and while we were waiting for our order these three colored fellows came in and sat down at the end of the counter, way down by the kitchen. The guy comes out and tells them we can't' serve you and they left. I didn't pay any attention and I told Lorrie my regret was that I didn't walk out, but at the time didn't think anything of it. It didn't take me, only like a couple hours or next day or something I got thinking, "Geez there I sit—some Chinese guy telling a black guy he can't serve him. MY: But it was the time. FY: You heard me talk about Lacey Jones you know, when your boy died who was there? Lacey MY: I have pictures of him holding Tommy. He came to—Tommy was probably a month old and I have— FY: What was her name? 24 MY: I know, ever since you said his name, Lacy and anyway, I have pictures of him in my living room holding my baby. Beautiful pictures. LR: When was this? MY: Oh, 1982. FY: My kids were raised—my wife, I'll tell you she had an occasion, I'm not going to go into much detail, but she had an occasion to be in a position where she was catering to the public. Couple of colored folks came in and sat down and my wife was—hey I can tell you she can attest to this—we're walking down Washington Boulevard and we're standing in front of Froerer Place on 26th for real estate, 26th and? MY: Washington. FY: Washington. I said, "Wait a minute I got to go in and talk to Fred about something," and when I come out she's visiting with some woman on the sidewalk. The lady left and I said, "Who was that?" She says, "I don't know." I could hear so I asked, "Well what was she telling you about her son-in-law or something?" She says, "I don't know, she just came up and started talking." Anyhow wife's very pleasant to these people and somebody said you're a nigger lover. She got the guy by the shoulder and threw him out. MY: I was surprised that's all she did. 25 FY: So see my kids were raised, we had no animus. That's why it bothered me later when I—hey that's, god that's 60 years ago nearly. LR: And it still bothers you? FY: And it bothers me. MY: I can see that. FY: See and then when I heard about Marshall White. They're chasing some kid, got out of reform school and they chased him into this house and the kid comes up out of the basement with a gun and shoots the guy right at the top of the stairs. MY: Well remember when the hi-fi shop thing all happened and you made Robert go pick Lacey up. LR: Now was that on 25th street? FY: No that was on? MY: About 23rd and Washington, but it was right next to Karamel Korn. My husband was working with his dad and this Lacey Jones we've been talking about, he worked there and because of the hi-fi shop thing and the blacks and stuff. Frank was afraid for Lacey because you know some people just— FY: What was her name? Camilia? Camilla? MY: I'm trying to think of Robert saying it. Lacey and. FY: She was quite the character. MY: They were great people. 26 FY: Well you know life, I look at it differently than when I was her age. When I was 18, a boy. MY: Well and there again I think it's the time. My dad grew up in the South. I was raised with a little different perspective, but I never understood why my dad was prejudice. I didn't get it. I'm like why? I don't get it. I still don't understand it, why? Just because somebody has different colored skin. I see it with my grandchildren. In fact my little grandson he'll be telling me about a friend or something and he'll say he's brown, but you know there's no ethnic type, he's black, he's Mexican, he's this. So is your mother when she's out in the sun. FY: We lived in Hawaii for a couple of years and favorite story, oh that picture there. I found your husband's face in there. MY: Oh did you find him? Cause he's the only little haole. FY: As a matter of fact we had Japanese neighbors. See this country is becoming like Hawaii, there's no majority. See even back when we were there whites were not a majority. Had some neighbor kids, my kids were like 7 or 8, 6 or 7, somewhere around there. They're watching a war movie on television and my wife told me this story. I don't remember what the movie was, but Robert can tell you. He's probably seen it a million times. Anyhow it was a Japanese soldier sneaking up on this American GI and one of the little Japanese neighbor boy says watch out for that Jap! That's become a family story because that's the way it was. The kids, my kids were raised and her kids I'm sure raised that's—but back 60 years ago it was different. 27 Now I went to school with black kids, back then we called them Negros or colored. I can remember I spent a summer—I was in New York 1945—I was in Time Square on VJ Day. I was in that mass of about a million people, never forget it. I used to take a train 2:00 in the morning through Harlem. I'd be the only white guy, but there was nobody on the train, only half a dozen people on the whole damn three car train. Going through Harlem never had any fears. I Went to school with folks from hell, all over. Now coming from the South I worked with a guy in Idaho, turned out good friends, he's dead now. Jimmy Mitchell was born in Nashville and I didn't find that out until several years after I knew him. I never heard the N word more than I did in Rexburg. In the first month I heard probably more than in my whole life before that. I told him I don't like it and he was good enough that he watched his tongue when he was around me and hopefully he improved on it with other people. He was born in Nashville, he came to Idaho as a boy, but his dad, for like all the time Jimmy was growing up until he got married, every summer they'd go back to Nashville. Second nature with him, like your dad. MY: It has to do with where you grow up. My mother grew up in Colorado. Her and her friend were the only white girls in their class, most of them were Mexican. So my mom was more open to you know, culture. FY: Pass that picture over LR: So moving on to a little more happy things, I was wondering if you had any more stories about 25th street you'd like to share? Cause I mean you've done a good job and you've been talking for almost two hours. 28 FY: I have? LR: I don't know if you realize that. FY: No, but I get wound up. See we've digressed. LR: And that's okay. So I was just wondering if you had any other stories or memories of 25th street you'd like to share? FY: Well I told you about my wife and the egg foo yung. LR: When she was pregnant? FY: Now those were the days when they made real egg foo yung, not this crap they're making now. It's like some kind of a mush. MY: I don't know what it is FY: Anyway I was telling Lorrie, many a morning at 1 or 2:00, the only place open, go to the China Temple. I'd take a sauce pan cause you didn't have takeout boxes like you do now. I'd go get egg foo yung. Well my kid was like I don't know a year old, just starting to talk, I don't know how old they are when they start. Anyhow I had some business at the Greyhound Depot where they had the bus. The buses used to have express and I had some business there and I parked and it was diagonal parking. She was there in the front seat with the kid and I said, "I'll be right out." When I come out she's laughing. Now she could laugh, she turned me the wrong way on a one way street once and a cop pulled me over MY: All she could do was laugh. 29 FY: All she could do. All I could say, "She told me to turn," that's another family story. She knows what's coming. Well anyhow I come out and she's laughing and I said, "What happened?" She said, "See that Chinese fellow going by?" "The Chinese guy?" "Yeah. Well when he went by he said dada." Anyhow now you've heard the story of my life maybe. I don't know about 25th street, spent many a night down there after partying I can tell you that. Sober up at the China Temple. LR: That seemed to be the, well it was always open so that was the spot. FY: Well I can tell you about 24th street. MJ: What was on 24th street? FY: Well I'll tell you about getting from 25th to 24th. On Lincoln, 25th and Lincoln, there's a hotel, used to be a stop on the Bamberger. They had a sign up, but in there Harry the Tailor had a tailor shop in one of those little stores. Harry was from Armenia or some Middle Eastern country and he was a hell of a good, old bachelor. He had a barber shop, I mean a tailor shop. Anyhow we'd go up to Grant and you went past the hotel and in the middle of the block was Johnny Marsh's, the bug man, he was a pest control guy. John Marsh, and he had a sign, bughouse with a caterpillar on the top. I wonder what ever happened to that sign. Wonder if someone has it in their basement or out in a barn? 30 Then there seems to me like there was a big green building, concrete or masonry or something. Was like a wholesale, it was a pale green. Anyhow there was also a place in there, we all thought it was the Chinese lottery. It was a store front and they had like teller windows in there. It was Chinese and I don't know, might have been some kind of a thrift club or business. We all thought it was a Chinese lottery where you went in, but every time I went by the door was open, but I never saw anyone in there. That was the story that it was a Chinese lottery. Over on 24th street and there's an empty lot now next to the Berthana, used to be the Dinner Horn, was a grocery store. Then going west there was a gas station and when that folded it turned into a locksmith and Lester Pelton learned his business. MY: Wasn't it Vicks? FY: Was it Vicks? MY: I think it was Vicks. FY: It was a—they had a locksmith in there and this kid we know learned his trade in there. Next was the Grant Hotel and Grant Tap Room. Japanese, lot of Japanese in there. Then next was Minnie, don't know her last name, she was a barber. She came and interned during the war and she was a Buddhist. She played a mean poker game and she made a mean stir fry. She used to invite us out to the Buddhist festival every year. Next was Sakarada Fish Market. Then there was HJ Bonnie, turkey broker, and he raised turkeys. Now in those days where Wal-Mart is on 21st, 20th, there was a turkey processor there. Bonnie had an interest in that or maybe it was his. Then they turned it into a cold storage and then tore it down 31 for Wal-Mart. Then there was Richard's Sheet Metal—had apartments. We had one and the reason we had one well we had a little dog, little Corgi. Familiar with a Corgi? LR: No. FY: Queen Elizabeth raises Corgies, little. That nice place on 24th and Monroe that's supposed to be a Frank Lloyd Wright house, that was an apartment house. They wouldn't rent us an apartment cause we had a little dog. We lived at Richard's until we could find a place and parked in the back 50 bucks a month, everything but lights. Hot water, heat. LR: Wow, all for 50 bucks a month. FY: Then across the street the motel is still there. Now they call it the Westward Ho or something. Down on the corner where the old shaver mart is, Bob Hinds, H-I-N- D-S had a Conoco Station. Next to Richard's there was a lumber yard, don't remember the name, but I think it began with a B. MY: Burton, was it Burton's? FY: Could be. MY: Burton had a lumber place. FY: I can't remember what was next down to the corner. But Crittenden Paint still there, that building's still there. That restaurant I guess that's been a restaurant for a million years. Then you came up 24th street you had the Dinner Horn, you had the Berthana, there was a bar in there. MY: The Lighthouse Lounge. 32 FY: That was it, The Lighthouse huh? Okay. Good timing for your visit here. Then you hit Kiesel and the Kiesel Building, there were two dentists in there. I knew—I mean there might have been more but there were two dentists and they would cover each other. So I knew both, one was Reuben Clark who was kind of a milk toast type guy. You know milktoast? Well see years ago there was a comic strip called Milquetoast, also at that time was Maggie and Jiggs and the Toonerville Trolley, see that dates me. What you gals got to do is start looking up some of this stuff because Toonerville Trolley had a guy on there, they called it Terrible Temper Mr. Bang and he was always mad. I have a son who we referred to occasionally as "Terrible Temper Mr. Bang," cause he can talk himself into a mad and we'd say, "Terrible Temper Mr. Bang," he has no idea what we are talking about. Anyhow the other guy was something Turner. Anyhow he used to be an engineer and then decided he wanted to be a dentist and as much as Reuben Clark was a milktoast he was the macho. I mean he'd cuss a blue streak if he had to, you know, something went wrong. He told a story once about—he was hunting and he'd go working up this sidehill and he gets to the top, and there's some guy there laying on the ground and looking over at things. He says, "I told him that was a hell of a climb." He says, "Yeah, I noticed you had a little bit of a problem here and there. I had you in my scope all the time." He said, "You had me in your scope?" "Yeah," he said. 33 "Is that gun loaded?" He says, "Yeah," He said, "I beat the crap out of him." That's the kind— LR: Well I can understand that. FY: Reuben Clark to quote my wife, "he wouldn't say it if he had a mouthful." Then across the street was the Finer Foods Café and next to it was the Finer Tap Room. If you went down the café, they were narrow. They went down toward the kitchen, there was a door that took you into the Tap Room. Then at the Eccles Building up on the corner was a Walgreen's. MY: Cause the door you went in on the corner. FY: See Walgreen's. MY: They had a little lunch counter. LR: Is this on Grant then? FY: Well every drug store had a counter. MY: No it'd be on Washington. FY: Washington, under the Eccles Building. There's a hotel there now. Walgreen's always had a corner. They had a place across from that Crossroads Mall. First night in Salt Lake I had a cup of coffee right across the street from the temple. I flew out, stewardess is telling me all about the Salt Lake and the Mormons and they don't drink and they don't smoke. I spent the night in Salt Lake so I'd catch the bus the next day to Logan cause I was going to school up there. I walk 34 around, first thing I stay at that little hotel, it's on South Temple between Main and State and it's still there. Just little cozy, I don't know 8 or 10 rooms, it's probably a fancy apartment house now. Anyhow I walked in, walked around, typical Walgreen's. They sold cigarettes and cigars and pipe tobacco and coffee and they had a lunch counter and people sitting there smoking and drinking coffee. Then I walked around and ran into two cigar stores within a couple of blocks and I'm wondering what is she talking about? Anyhow I had her phone number and I called her. Tried to set up a date. MJ: No luck? FY: No, you know why? I wasn't Mormon. Well I sort of learned how it worked. It took me a while, but anyhow that was my introduction to Utah. It was a DC 3 and one of the two roughest places to fly in the country is Denver to Salt Lake and the other one is from Washington D.C. somewhere over the Appalachians I can't remember. Anyhow D.C. 3 21 passengers, it was full, served us a nice meal and then we hit the turbulence. The stewardess comes by, got plenty of food if you want it. God I could smell this puke. God that was a rough trip. MY: Now what did you start up at? FY: 46. So anyhow let's see we were on 24th street. You had the First Security Bank and across the street was W.T. Grant, pink sandstone, a red sandstone. My father-in-law helped build that and he said they poured concrete with wheelbarrows and they went up wheelbarrow at a time. Then that became ZCMI. 35 LR: There was a ZCMI in Ogden? MY: Right where the Weber place is. FY: They had a walkway over to the mall over Nordstrom's. LR: When was the ZCMI in Ogden? FY: Well I'm looking at that Ogden Hikes thing and the J.C. Penney building was ZCMI and then they, I guess shut down and left. Then came back after W.T. Grant. See 24th, Washington Boulevard between 25th and 24th street you had— MY: L.R. Samuel's. FY: Aurbach's. MY: Well L.R. Samuels to begin with. FY: Yeah, then Aurbach's. MY: Then Freddy Aurbach married the Samuels girl. FY: Then you had there was a men's store next to the— MY: Fred M. Nye? FY: No I'm talking on the west side. There was—I got a suit hanging in the closet I think came from them. Next to the bank, next between the bank and the Egyptian or the other side of the Egyptian, anyhow you had Keeley's Restaurant. MY: Smalley's Jewelry was right by the bank. FY: The men's store was probably on the north side of the bank. Anyhow you had restaurants and on the other side you had Nye's and when they closed I think 36 that's when Buehler Dunn, and Branz opened. You had Blocks in there, Blocks was an Idaho, small Idaho chain. Very upscale and kind of a department store, mostly men. Then when you went over to J.C. Penney you had Payless Drug and you could get in from Kiesel. Then you had in a row you had Newberry's, Woolworth and Grant, no W.T. Grant was across the street. Woolworth, Kresge three 5 and dimes, then there were assorted businesses. MY: Skagg's was downtown. FY: Well that was Payless. Ensign Drug was along in there. Every drug store had a lunch counter. MJ: Oh we are just about, the battery is just about out. FY: You want to plug in? MJ: Yeah. FY: There's a plug in. Marva, MY: Is it in the bedroom? FY: Yeah, one in the bedroom there. MJ: Most of the time I just plug it in automatically, but I thought we'd be okay with the battery cause it was just charged. FY: Then you went down the end of the block was Sear's. They had on the Kiesel Avenue side an auto, 3 bay auto. They changed oil and stuff like that. They moved and that was the end of the downtown. Cross from Sear's you had Firestone, had a big store, I think it's a bank now. 37 MY: It's Zion's Bank. FY: Then across the street was Reliable Furniture. Was it Reliable? MY: There was a Reliable. You know who owned Reliable? Herscowitz, Sam Herscowitz because my mom worked for his wife when he and his brother owned Reliable Furniture. FY: Well it became then Wolfe Sporting Goods and next to the Firestone store that would be on the east side between 23rd and 24th coming south, was Madsen Furniture. That dinet set came from Madsen Furniture when we were living up on Binford. My kids were in high school, that has to be over 40 years and I refuse to buy a new one. My sister has for years said, "Why don't you know it's wearing out." She insisted my mother buy a new coat and she died. She insisted her husband buy a new suit, he says no way Jose. He said, "Looked what happened to your mother," and that's why I won't buy a new dinette, cause the odds—the longer I wait the odds get better, but yeah that was Madsen Furniture. MY: Sav On was down there, Sav On Sporting Goods. FY: Well on 24th now, let's go. MY: But it was between 22nd and 23rd. FY: Let's go down 24th street now from W. T. Grant, cross the street J. C. Penney. Next door was I think Klenke, K-L-E-N-K-E Hardware. MJ: Were they connected to Klenke Floral? FY: I don't know. 38 MY: I have no idea. FY: But this old guy and his daughter ran that store. I think when they wrecked that they probably destroyed it. What a store, they had a ladder on a truck. Bins all the way to the ceiling and if you went in there for like a number 10 flathead screw they—everything came bulk in those days. If you went in and asked for whatever, they could go get it and they knew where it was, they'd move the ladder, climb up, open the drawer. Great. Then there was a Haberdasher open on the corner later. Can't remember his name, but then cross the street was Read Brothers, big place, but with a horse on top. Now I'm going to tell you, I don't know if you know about the horse. Some guy one night climbed up there somehow painted that black horse brown. That horse was black, it was patterned or supposed to have been a replica of a famous Ogden horse called Old Nig. Does that tell you anything? It's a black horse, Old Nig. Then next to that was, there was—later on it became Sunset Sporting Goods, but next to that was Kammeyer's, had the big old wooden gun out front. Remember that? No pictures of that? They had a big rifle made out of wood it was about, god, had to be 6 or 8 feet. Kammeyer's Sporting Goods and then next was the church. Kammeyer's, I think one of those boys became an obstetrician/gynecologist here in Ogden, working. Dr. Kammeyer. Then there was the church, then across the street was the post office. Now it you went south from the Dinner Horn there was the Bamboo Noodle, good place. Then you came to Dokas's, and then there was a building there, old brick building that had tile. 39 Had a garage door and tile, blue and white, but I used to call bathroom tile. It was that little hex and in the middle of that white, Browning. LR: So that's on, I actually know where this building is. That's the one on Grant. MY: So the Federal Building— LR: In between 24th? FY: 24th/23rd. Well it's on the east side of 24th or the east side of Grant and north of 24th. See we started at the Dinner Horn which was on 24th, now wait a minute. MY: Wasn't that Browning next to where the Federal Building is? FY: Yeah MY: The Federal Building's here and then you go north on Grant and Browning's was right there. LR: Well there were two Browning buildings. They kind of faced—their backs were to each other. One was on Kiesel and one was on Grant. So the one you're talking about? FY: Has to be on 24th then, between 24th and 23rd MY: No it was 24th and 25th. FY: It has to be 24th/25th because the church is on 24th going to 23rd. Dokas was in there somewhere and there was— MY: It was Browning and then Dokas. FY: There was a commercial building with a garage door. 40 LR: That's the one on Grant. FY: Yeah and it had, in front of the door, it had an apron. Blue trim, it was oblong and it had blue edging and a white—in the white it said Browning and it was that tile, that little 6 sided tile. LR: You'll be happy to know that they actually restored that building and that's still there, that tile. FY: It is? I have to go down and somehow, but hell you know I can't walk anymore. MY: We'll have to get you a chair. LR: The one on Kiesel it's long gone. FY: Yeah that's where Pete found the Browning workshop and gave it to the Depot. Now I was in Nauvoo and I saw the old original Browning workshop, had a personal tour of that building. They've done great work with it, with Nauvoo. I stopped there, I was on this spot and I had some neighbors who were doing a mission there. I found them, funny I'm living in Rexburg and I pull in to Nauvoo, and that's way before the temple was restored and all that, and I'm looking around and there's a few buildings here and there. I see a couple of people raking leaves in front of this brick building and it turns out to be their headquarters or office or something. I pulled up and I hollered out the window, "Hello there!" The lady comes over I say, "I'm looking for the Cazier, would you know where they are?" She says, "I don't know where they are, but wait a minute," and she walked in and come out with a binder, everybody's schedule. "Well he's down at 41 the blacksmith shop and she's over at the tinkers place." So she directs me and I got down to the blacksmith shop and I walked in on a presentation. Anyway after the presentation they handed out horseshoe nail rings to the kids and I said to Gale, "Geez, can I have one of those? I had one when I was a kid," and I got that somewhere. I looked at it not too long ago here. Anyhow I said, "I used to have one," so he gave it to me and I wore and I stopped on that trip, I stopped in Cheyenne and my brother was there. I was telling him, I said, "Here's what I brought." Bill looks at it, says, "Gee I had one of them when I was a kid." Every kid had one of them cause they had blacksmith and they still had some horses around. Anyhow they just bent a nail around a pipe, but anyhow I have that ring somewhere and it's been 15 years ago since I got that. I visit with Gale and I said, "Where's Yvonne?" He says, "She's over at the tinkers I'll take you," so we go over to the tinkers. She says she's embarrassed standing there with cue cards, 3 by 5 cards. "I just got assigned here yesterday, this is my first day. Up until now I was over at the Browning workshop." She was nervous as all get out. I said, "Well I'll tell you what Yvonne, I'm alone nothing to worry about you know me, be comfortable, make your pitch." She went through it, had to make a few references and she says, "Well that wasn't so hard." Anyhow then she took me over to the Browning place, just 42 the two of us, and they got us in there and out in the garden—a lot of these places they'd planted gardens. Tomato plants, lettuce, eggplant you know and they feed themselves. I mean they had these gardens and they keeps the weeds down and all these missionaries have fresh produce all through the summer. Then they took me—I had a little personal tour, saw a few things that most visitors don't get to see, but doing a bang up job. They have a land office and I didn't understand the land office until I left. I had another neighbor, who was a day behind me and when he came back we got comparing notes. The land office has the original plans of Nauvoo, and if you tell them who you're interested in—My wife's great grandfather, I got a deed or not a deed but a copy of a deed and a location on the town plat of where he lived and he lived about two blocks from Joseph Smith. Now it's right downtown, Nauvoo. A lot of motels and souvenir shops, but the rest of it, they're doing a bang up job. What's not there anymore, right across the street on the corner from the old temple, was the headquarters of the reorganized church. The church finally bought them out a few years ago, but they had a nice modern brick building and they were on one corner. This office I stopped at was just up on the other block on another corner and they've restored the temple. I was able to see where the fount was, they had a well in there and some of those sunstones were still laying around. Anyhow I don't know if we got off subject. LR: It's okay. I hate to be the one to say put the brakes out, but you've worn me out. I was worried about wearing you out and you've done the exact opposite. I haven't had lunch yet. 43 FY: Well I'll tell you what. I've got a pot of lentils and I'll be glad to share them because I hate leftovers. LR: Ok. For not being an Ogden native you sure know a lot about the buildings, why is that? FY: Cause I like history. See I took a course at Weber State one time on Utah history and it was taught by this Hispanic fellow. I don't remember his name now. Anyhow I can tell you about places wherever I've gone see. I can tell you things. I lived in Star Valley for a while. I know where the old Oregon Trail passed through the valley. I can take you there, I'm sure it's still there. I think if they widened the road they went that a way see. I followed Louis and Clark from St. Louis to Fort Clatsop, except where you had to go on a boat. Through Nebraska and that country there, there's not much to see, but from Fort Mandin all over, pretty much all of it. I've been to Lemhi Pass, I got the journals here, I read it and copied the original journals, I've seen them. God they're great big I don't know how many. I have my brother, one brother, he found some old 16 mm movies that we had when we were kids and he gave them to a guy and he was able to salvage about 15 or 20 minutes. Some are home movies, some are old movies that we used to buy. You know we had no TV and I had a crank that you could buy things. Saw Felix the Cat and few things. Got all of that on DVD. Wherever I've gone, I know the history from where I was born. I know see I grew up in Pennsylvania, Philadelphia was 90 miles away. When I moved to California for a couple of years, I'd been on most every mission from San Diego to Sonoma. Some of them weren't much but wrecks when I saw them and now 44 most of them have been restored, but I went to that mission in Carmel. I'm shocked, got a big sign about Father Serra saying mass on the 4th of July, 1776. That was an enlightenment, I knew July 4th Philadelphia, the Liberty Bell you know. Same time the Spanish were out there, they're planting gardens and converting the natives. So I can tell you a lot about California and I can tell you about the Civil War. What I should have been is a historian. Start of Part II, July 23, 2013. FY: I'd like to start. We were on 24th street, we talked about Kammeyer's and the big gun out front, the sign? LR: Yes we did. FY: Smith and Edward's bought Kammeyer's. If you got in touch with Bert Smith I bet you could find that gun. LR: Is he still alive? FY: Oh yeah. 93 years old and he's alive. In fact he gave a presentation on the avenging Angel, what's his name? Porter Rockwell, to a group it was in the paper like I don't know month, six weeks ago. So he's alive and well. He bought Kammeyer's and he owned it when they shut it down. Bet that sign is out there at Smith and Edward's or maybe at his home or somewhere. I'm sure—not Bert he wouldn't throw it away. You know he bought the old Swift building. LR: Where you used to work? 45 FY: 60,000 bucks he paid for that old place and he told me he said, "I feel good. When I feel good about a deal it means I made a good deal." Hell he probably got his 60,000 bucks back just in the salvage on the first month or so. Cause he opened it, he rented different parts, he put holes in the wall and gave access. He rented out the garage and he punched a hole in the wall and the curing cellars became—the last I saw it a guy was selling boats in there. I don't know if he sold them or maintained them or he had a dealership or something. He sold two new boilers. They'd brought in the newest boiler was probably a year old, the other one probably two or three years old. Probably got 60 grand right there. LR: So where was the Swift building? FY: Just across the yards on 24th. Hey there's some great pictures in here and we're going to go through these pictures. FY: Anyhow here's a picture of 25th street [Frank is looking at pictures from Ogden City: It's Government Legacy]. See in the 20s there were trolley cars. LR: But that's not the Bamberger? FY: No that's a trolley car, that's a city system and I read in here what I didn't know. They had six routes. You know I told you my father-in-law used to drive one of them. That's how come my wife was born at the Cobble Cottage in 1927 cause he was down here, He was down here driving. Anyhow they had six routes, 24 miles. I didn't knowhit was that extensive, but there's the Healy Hotel and here's that building that's still here. Anyhow the Royal Hotel used to be the Arcadia. 46 LR: So here's a question for you and maybe you know. I've always thought that Porter's and Waiter's wasn't its own individual building. That it was underneath— FY: It was the downstairs. It was a bar and it was an afterhours club and there was like a shooting or knifing about twice a week in there. Now I never went in the place when it was that, but you know the guy that went up on the roof to look over at the sunbathers, he used to go in there frequently. The upstairs was the hotel and they catered to the black employees from the railroad which were mostly porters and waiters. See the dining cars—all the waiters were black, stewards were white. So when you gave an order in the dining car you wrote it out from the menu and they filled the order then they brought you the bill and you gave them the money and the steward handled all the money. Now those people—Ogden was a junction see between [audio missing]. LR: Hopefully it will be in business now. FY: Okay we were talking about the porters and waiters. Ogden was the—I don't remember what they used to call it. It was the end of the run, see they changed crews and these guys had to have a place to stay. We talked about the situation and there's a picture in here of Read's with the horse up on top. I was told by someone that horse is out on west 12th street in front of some veterinary's place. Anyhow they called the place the porters and waiters club and in fact in those days 25th street—this tells after it got cleaned up it went downhill fast just like I was telling you. Lot of transients moved in and there's a picture in here of the old Shupe Williams candy factory. I'd forgotten about that, it's on 26th and Wall. Big four story, they were a big candy company and they shut down I don't know. 47 They were running when I came and then some transients got in there as usually happens, burned the damn place down. Directly north now we're talking on the west side of Wall Avenue, directly north across 26th street was the old Union Pacific Laundry. Well when the trains quit running they didn't need the laundry anymore. Then next to that was railway express agency. You remember the railway express wagons with the great big wheels? I'm sure they have one or two at the depot. They were baggage carts. They met the trains and they'd off load baggage and freight. They were huge wheels, and you know guys would pull them by hand or push them. Those buildings are gone and then on the other side was the freight station, that's gone too. Now across the street we got the Healy Hotel identified and well we'll go around the corner. There was a place called Ketchum Builder's Supply and a big one story low building. I can remember driving down there for something on a Saturday when the Teton Dam broke cause I listened to it on the radio. I had no idea about where it was or what it was, but geez you know that was 1976. What is that now? Pushing 50 years, 45/40. LR: Yeah 45. FY: So how time flies. That buildings gone. Next to this was Goddard's. Goddard was an industrial supply. The brick building is still there. Next was Scowcroft's on Wall Avenue. LR: heading towards 26th? 48 FY: Heading towards 24th. We're going around the corner from the Healy. It was Ketchum, then Goddard, then Scowcroft. Scowcroft was a big whole sale—dry goods and food wholesaler. I think they've saved that building, I think it's on the national historic register. What I remember about it last time I saw it, they had that you could still see the advertising on the outside. They made overalls, now you've heard of Osh Kosh B'Gosh? Well they had Can't Bust 'em, that was their brand. One of the Scowcroft's if he's still alive, the General Scowcroft used to be an intelligence guy for George, first George Bush. Brent Scowcroft he was born here. He's a Scowcroft from that family and that building I think has been restored. Now it's cross the street from the Transit you know. The railroad, frontrunner, depot the travel. What do they call it? LR: The park and ride FY: You know and they have the buses. Then you come up 24th street and I think Anderson Lumber was in there. See now you're under the viaduct and you're now coming up the south side of 24th street to Wall Avenue. Now we're at Lincoln and we're going backwards up from that lumber company, Richard's, the turkey guy, the fish market, the Grant tap, and then the Dinner Horn. Now go across the street to the church and start going east, that's where you ran into Kammeyer's, next to the church. Then Sunset Sporting Goods was in there but there was something before that I don't recall. Then you ran into Read, leather people. Then you crossed Kiesel and it was a couple of businesses and the hardware store I told you about and J.C. Penney's, which according to this book, used to be ZCMI before 1900. Now cross Washington 49 Boulevard there was the W. T. Grant and you went up the hill to St. Joseph's Church and look at this picture. This I think is 24th street, there's the bend on 24th, freeway is out here and see here's a spur. That's the one that goes up to the elevators. There's packing house, there's the big livestock pavilion and here's the stock yards. LR: So this is where they would do the auctions? FY: Yeah, and that's where they had the stock show. See and here's the viaduct. LR: So this would be Union Station? FY: No the Union Station would be over here. LR: Oh this is 24th okay. FY: It'd be around here, 25th would be up here. That's 24th, that's got to be stairs to the station. LR: Well if the freeway is over here 25th has to be right here. FY: Oh no, the other way, okay you're right. LR: You can actually see where it ends right there. FY: I was going the wrong direction. LR: This is Wall and that's 25th and that looks like the Ben Lomond. FY: And the depot would be over here. I don't know when they viaduct was built but there's an interesting picture in here that has a Grandview Acres. This was war housing. They were two story duplexes, still around I think. They were at about 38th and Quincy or somewhere and there was a lady lived downstairs, her 50 grandfather used to manage that place. We were talking one time and I said I probably knew him because my wife and I looked out there to buy one of those duplexes. I guess it's still there, but there's another small world story see. Now see here's this, here's another picture. Like on the cover, here's 24th street, there's that big bend and here's where Del Monte was. LR: The Cannery? FY: The elevators were here. The packing house and the yards. Now in this picture the viaduct was there. Now there's the Broom Hotel which was built about 1880 something and this was 1920, a war parade. But you look at it you notice all the window blinds are even. You know it was in great shape. Well when they finally tore it down, had to be around 1960 or late 50s it was pretty decrepit. LR: It didn't look nearly as good? FY: It was kind of just abandoned and they built the bank. Oh here, here's one. Here's Washington boulevard, you remember I told you, see this is before the Ben Lomond, but there's the Orpheum theater. LR: See I thought the Orpheum was on 25th street. FY: No, the Orpheum was right there next to Ben Lomond. It's a state office building now. This was the old city hall, I don't remember that but anyhow remember I told you about the shoe store, right there. And these two little buildings between were there in the 70s. LR: now it's a parking lot. 51 FY: Yeah, next to the hotel. But there's visual evidence and you can—St. Joseph back in the 20s, that's also on the historic register. LR: Well it sounds like you enjoyed skimming through that. FY: Oh here, Sacred Heart Academy. I mentioned the girls school, 25th and Quincy. The nuns ran this and really some of these details I picked—they had 600 boarding students, all girls and every prominent Mormon pretty much sent their girls to St. Anne's for their education. It was the place, but what I found interesting in here is these nuns were from St. Mary's in South Bend, Indiana. There was a college there, St. Mary's College. You see now I got to look this up. Is Notre Dame what used to be St. Mary's College? I'm talking back 1878 when the nuns first came here see. That's how things build. They came out—St. Joseph's Catholic School, oldest school continuing in the whole state—started 1878 by these nuns on the corner. Now according to this, Utah Bank, Bank of Utah, southwest corner of 26th and Washington, anyhow they tore that down and we talked about this yesterday. Remember we talked about all the doctors who were downtown, mostly in the First Security Building. Well when they abandoned the school somebody got in there and turned it into a professional mall and that's when the doctors started leaving and getting spread around town. Which was another stake in the heart of downtown because that had to be, it's in here somewhere, 1960 or something like that. So those are some of the details. Here's Weber College, when the church gave it to the state. I understand they tore that building down. Now why the hell would they tear that down? 52 LR: It's the American mentality unfortunately. FY: Now stands an empty lot there. The city school district, Ogden City School District got this property and their offices there; it's on, what is it, Adams and 26th or something? I think it's across from the forest service. Anyhow the building on the corner is still there, but this was next and it's gone. LR: But the one with the WC on the façade? FY: I think. LR: I've driven past it a couple of times, they're doing some work on it right now. FY: Well anyhow there's the Shupe Williams Candy Company. LR: And this is the one on Wall and? FY: 26th. Now see that was on the southwest corner, now you're coming this way on Wall. You cross the street here and you ran into the Union Pacific Laundry and now that's where they have some of those old cars. Now transients burned this thing down. Now they're doing the same thing, I see in the paper they had a couple of fires this winter. They have a couple of old wooden railroad cars down there they got for restoration and they've run transients out because they've set them on fire trying to keep warm. That's what burned down that grocery store and I think the name was Nicholas, the grocer. Nicholas Grocer. LR: That actually makes sense, I recall that name. FY: During that period when 25th street was skid row, lot of those upstairs, you know they were a lot of hotels and rooming houses and stuff. Some old wino got cold in the middle of the night and lit a fire under the sink and burned the damn place 53 down. What I'm trying to find is that picture of the bridges across the Weber River down by the packing house. In here they mentioned Clix. LR: Is that a gas station? FY: Well Clix, his name was Clarence Swanner and he had a gas station on 26th and Grant I think it was. Northeast corner, Clicks Service. How come you're familiar with Clix Service? LR: I interviewed a gentleman whose grandfather owned it originally and sold it to the Swanners. FY: Well Clicks died at a 103 and he's mentioned in here playing cards or playing marbles on 25th street when he was a kid. Well see when he was a kid, he was probably born1895 or something, and so when he was playing marbles down there it was probably pretty much like the rest of Ogden, just rough frontier town. Here's a picture of the yards. I'll tell you what I did. I called my kid up last night and I went through this with him. LR: Would that be Marva's husband? FY: Yeah, cause we talked about these places. See there's the viaduct, don't know when that was built. This is 29th street, here's the elevators on 29th. You know where you go around them when you get on the freeway you go down 30th. These are the elevators see. That's 29th street LR: So this would be the station here? FY: No this is the Ice House and this here is where they, used to ice the reefers. LR: So where's the station? 54 FY: I can remember when they used to do that. LR: Ice the reefers? FY: Refrigerated cars had ice. Both ends had bunkers with hatches on the top and they'd run these refrigerated cars down there and they'd put ice out of the Ice House and they had a belt would run the ice. Guys would walk along the train, lift the hatch if they needed ice, they'd throw in a couple of 100 pound blocks and they iced every refrigerated train that went through here. Then they went to mechanical refrigeration and they tore this out, but the Ice House is still there. Here's 24th street, so the depot has got to be over and around here somewhere, but look at all the trackage. There was a Y out here. Train coming in from the east would pull into the station and then when it was leaving for the west it would back out and that Y is gone long time ago. See when I first came this was all active, there's the Southern Pacific Roundhouse. I had a neighbor, was a Southern Pacific engineer, and oh there's the old Bamberger train, probably at Lagoon. Here's the stock yards. Now see there's the packing house, just started out as American, as Ogden Packing, then went to American Packing and Provision then Swift bought them in 1949. LR: So that's where you worked? FY: Yeah and this was the ramp where they drove the livestock and here's these two bridges and I'm trying to find the picture. We were talking about Clix, he remembered when they put that bridge in and the bridge is still there and it's got a plaque on it, who built it, who installed it, when they installed it, all that information. Here it is, see. Now this was taken—there's no viaduct and the 55 packing house was probably in there somewhere maybe at this time it was probably pretty small. Here's the railroad bridge, this is the bridge Clix remembers when they installed it. It's over the Weber River and on this side of it there's a plague and you can still see it. Here's the road bridge that goes out Wilson Lane, that took you—see on this picture 24th street see came across and there's Wilson Lane and here's that spur that comes up to the elevators. So I don't know when they built the viaduct, but prior to that you had to cross the tracks and I imagine like on most railroad crossing back in those days that they'd have a guy come out with a sign, stop traffic while the trains went by. LR: Getting back to 24th street, did we finish 24th street then? FY: Yeah I think we did. Now we could go around the corner on 24th and Lincoln and go to the Iron Works, Ogden Iron Works is now where the ballpark is. The Ogden Iron Works was big, now I didn't notice anything in there, I could've missed it. By then it got pretty extensive. But I think they had something to do with the Golden Gate bridge, it was fabricated, all types of steel and stuff. That was going and the can company was going and Del Monte was going and the packing houses, we had three of them and they were all going. The railroads, you know things were booming. This was a going town and it distresses me to go downtown, I drive down 24th street. The First Security Banks empty, the Wells Fargo cross the street big signs space to let, and you go down where the church tore down and the old Travelodge hotel/motel all that's empty space. Then you go over here by Rite Aid down on 24th street, well kiddy-corner to Rite Aid is old Wheelwright Lumber, all abandoned. See it used to be 56 lumberyards were downtown, Anderson Lumber was down there and Wheelwright was there just on Adams or Monroe, somewhere in there. That place we talked about, I can't remember what Marva called it. LR: Burton. FY: Burton, that was downtown. The town I come from up in Rexburg, Boise, Cascade, still right downtown. Anderson Lumber left, but that's the way it was. All this space, there's urban blight, we got it. Now what they're starting to do, I read it and I see it, they've done some preliminary work. The city is going to open Fowler Avenue between 24th and 23rd and they're going to put 28 homes in the middle of that block. They've already cut down all the trees and I think the power company's run a couple of lines in. Then you know they have historic districts now and I can remember, that was probably 20 years ago, when they were selling homes to somebody for a buck or 100 bucks, for very little money if you'd restore them. Some of those neighborhoods are starting to come back, but lots of empty places. You go down on Washington Boulevard, lot of places they got business, strip malls. You know they got some of these big buildings, you see them advertising like stock broker, 24 or something suite 8. Well those were all big stores and businesses and there's a picture in here of 25th and Washington. LR: While you're looking let me ask you a question. So with the railroad stopping in the 70s, you talked about how it just kind of died. What do you think is bringing it back? Is helping it kind of become more of the city, the industrial, not industrial. You know what I'm trying to ask? I don't think I'm doing a very good job. 57 FY: I don't think it's coming back that fast. See it was diverse, Riverdale was all farms. You had, like everybody else you had urban sprawl. Everybody wanted to move out. Well that's bad but then when the businesses start moving out which is what happened with the Newgate Mall. When Stephen Dirks—he was talking about a mall before the Newgate Mall. They all downplayed it in the council chamber I guess. When they started Sear's was already gone, Woolworth's was already gone and probably several other places were gone. See you had there on one block, these were all like five and dime stores: W. T. Grant, you had Woolworth, Kresge, Newberry, I'm missing one. They were all there between 24th and 23rd on Washington. Then down—you know it had all kinds of stores. Cross's Western Wear was down there, we mentioned Reliable Furniture which later became Wolf. LR: You mentioned Reliable Furniture, yes. Isn't that where you got your— FY: No that's Madsen. Now Madsen is gone, they're gone but they're still in Salt Lake. I see them advertised on TV, Madsen Furniture. We were talking about that dinette set, over 40 years old and I'm still here and that's still here and Madsen's gone. Then, just come to mind. I think it was right next to the Episcopal Church. J.W. Brewer, tire company. I think he was on Grant. LR: He had a brief stint in the Browning Building, the one on Kiesel. It was only for a year and it was— FY: He sold appliances in there and I knew the guy who ran it, Sandy. Anyhow he ended up he was managing the Ben Lomond Hotel for a while and Cal Rampton was governor. When Cal Rampton would come to Ogden they'd take a room for 58 him there and Sandy what the hell was his name? He stocked it with a corncob pipe and some tobacco for the governor. It will come to me about 1:00 in the morning, but then he ran J. W. Brewer's I think, before he managed the hotel. He was on—I remember the store, it was a big store, J. W. Brewer tire. For a while he was like, not Les Schwab cause he's too big, but like Jack's Tire out of Logan. See Jack's Tire started in Logan, got a big place here and I don't know, they probably got a few others. J. W. Brewer had a couple, 3 locations and he was starting to build—I don't know whatever happened, but he was on Kiesel or Grant north of 24th I think. I remember the big store, big glass front. That was way before Big O, but there was a Firestone Store, that was his competitor. They were on 23rd and Washington, across from Reliable. Then I think Dar Larsen and a bunch of guys started a bank and their office was just up the hill from Washington on 23rd or 22nd and I can't remember the name of the bank, but they went defunct. Dar Larsen was Pepsi Cola. LR: That plant was on? FY: 17th and Washington. LR: I thought they had one on 25th street, the PepsiCo plant. I could be wrong. FY: Well they're going to tear that place down. It's now—I don't know what it is now— but it was a disco. It's right there by the river and they're going to tear it down. City is going to sell it to 7-11, they're going to put a 7-11 store there. Anyhow he and a bunch of guys started a bank and I can't remember what they called it, but it fizzled. I didn't recall seeing that in here, course I did a lot of skipping when it 59 looked familiar. Their office was just up the hill from Washington, somewhere on the north side of 23rd or 22nd, probably 23rd street. Standard Examiner was up on Adams and I think 23rd, that's where it was when Abe Glassman was running it. He had a farm that's now Smith's out on 41st and Harrison, that was the Glassman farm. For years they held out, they were developing all around and Glassman, I don't know he had about 40 acres in there, all gone. LR: I guess I should mention that I wanted you to talk about Kramer's, Kramer's Hot Dogs. I've heard a lot about it and would love to get your take. FY: It was, I don't know maybe the front end of a private home, but you walked up on the sidewalk and there was a window, Kramer's Hot Dogs and Hamburgers. The synagogue's in there, they must still have a synagogue in town, on 27th something Grant. Well that was about next door to Kramer's. Yeah they served— then further down was Utah Bottling where when they quit bottling they served beer and now I think there's apartments back in there. I can remember when they served schooners. Yeah I had more than one in there, nice cool plenty of parking. Kramer's was just a walk up storefront, it was—I mean there's the sidewalks and there's all the buildings, the fronts. It was Kramer's and it had a big window and you bought a hot dog or a hamburger and they were good. LR: Would you call them the best in town? FY: Well I don't recall, but there weren't many place to eat hamburgers as hamburger joints until about late 60s. They opened a place between 24th and 25th on the 60 east side, I think they called it the Burger Chalet. It wasn't like all those—narrow deep and you walked in, they had a telephone at each booth. You'd pick up the phone and place your order to the kitchen and that was there for several years. I remember when the first McDonald's opened, it was out across from Weber High School which was on about 11th and Washington Boulevard. It had the golden arches and hamburgers were 15 cents. Swift's supplied the burgers and I can remember when—guy's name was Frank Fidel who ran that part of the operation. He did the hotel and restaurant part of the business. Many a Saturday or Sunday he had to go down to the packing house and get hamburgers cause they, you know they didn't buy enough or something. Business was that great. Anyhow then I think they opened another place further down, south Washington Boulevard, but they gave it up when I remember it was big news. They gave it up because McDonald's then started to enclose it and they didn't think it was worth the effort or the expense. LR: So they closed the Kramer's? FY: So they sold McDonald's. Boy I bet that was a mistake. On that corner of 12th street about that time Mound Fort was on 12th and Washington, Mound Fort Junior High. Across the street there was an ice cream place and I think next door was a butcher shop. That turned into the Food Town, they tore all that out and put Food Town which is a big market which is gone now. There was a guy named Dover, owned the ice cream shop and they sold hamburgers and sandwiches. Got a lot of school trade at noon, but it had a false front, the façade, and they called it the White Cliffs of Dover and he had a picture painted on there 61 of the white cliffs of Dover. I think his name was Otto. Anyhow he built a house, he was one of those first houses going up east 12th that are kind of built up into the side hill? Anyhow he either built there or out on Harrison Boulevard where, I don't know how far out it is, maybe 4800 or 46 where there's a field and there's homes built kind of down in a gulley. They ran Harrison—they filled it in and ran Harrison through there. He served good ice cream sodas. Then on the other corner was a motel. LR: We have gotten off track a little bit, and I don't mind I'm enjoying what you're talking about. Getting back to 24th and 25th, I mean visually I can't tell where we're at, but do you think we've covered? FY: Well we've gone from Adams to Wall and across the yards. We went on 24th street all the way out to the freeway, out by Del Monte and the stock yards and the elevators. Out there— LR: So how many of these places did you have personal interaction with do you think? FY: Personal reactions? LR: Interactions, where you actually go and visit. You think most of them, a third? FY: Oh first, you know we've been talking about the Marion Hotel. Marion Hotel is on Lincoln, now what I don't know is what the hell was that hotel on 25th and Grant where I told you that the Friendly Tavern was next door and the Salvation Army Band would play. Now that was a hotel, I thought that was—I had in my mind that 62 that was the Marion until I saw a picture and Marion Hotel is still there with the sign and it's on Lincoln. LR: I don't know, I'd have to ask. Do you know? EM: No. FY: See that's now across from the federal building. LR: Right, so you want to know where the one was on the name of the hotel on Grant and 25th? FY: See we got the Healy Hotel now and the Royal. LR: The Healy and Broom Hotel were basically the same. FY: No, no. The Broom was on Washington and the Healy was on Wall. The Broom was that nice Victorian with the bay windows and that was a nice building. Yeah when they tore it down it was bad. They had to quit renting rooms, it was just too bad. Well I'll tell you I was in a lot of these places. We talked about Crittenden and Paint and Glass. Before Crittenden it was Fuller Paint and I used to buy paint from them cause they gave me wholesale price and then Crittenden took it over. See that's way back in the 50s. Minnie cut my hair, I drank beer at the Grant Tap, I went over to see Pete Vlahos in his office. LR: I can't get over Vlahos. I see his name and I say Valejos. FY: Nope he pronounced is Vlahos. Yeah the old Bamberger station and I talked about the bug house, you know old John Marsh. Lot of those bars and restaurants up and down 25th street besides the China Temple and the Star, everybody hit them because they were the only places open late that were nice. 63 The bus terminal yeah and the Elks Lodge, I never belonged but I used to get in there now and then. Brown's Ice Cream which was lately the Hostess Thrift Store, and Brown's Ice Cream was a premium ice cream and Swift bought them. Then when Swift closed you know they closed everything. That's when I guess the bakery bought it and they ended up pretty much that whole block except 25th street cause they bought the Elks Lodge and they bought Lacey's apartment house that was behind the Boracho and all that's left on that block that doesn't belong to the bakery is the west side of or the south side of 25th street. Just that one lot deep. There were places that I used to go into Read's and the Finer Tap, and Marva mentioned the Lighthouse bar. They used to be an electric shop, Lighthouse Electric, and they had that sign. I don't know is that sign still there? It was a Lighthouse and said Lighthouse Electric. Right under the Berthana or right next door to the Berthana yeah hell you know downtown. Hey on a Friday night and a Saturday night in Ogden when they had the dance halls going and all that if you didn't get down there by 6:00 or 6:30, you couldn't park three blocks from anywhere. There's a picture in there of the, I can't remember these things. The dance hall there on 24th and what was it, The White? LR: The White City. FY: White city, yeah. There's a picture in there of that ballroom. I danced there and danced at the Berthana and drank beer in most of the places. I never went in El Boracho. LR: That was going to be my next question, did you ever go in there? 64 FY: No, but you know I noticed driving down Wall Avenue about 26th or 7 there's a place called Pico De Gallo. The original Pico De Gallo was on Wall about 22nd or 23rd and it looked like a, the building looked like an old auto junk shop. It was cinder block and it was a dive. My brother used to come to town, he liked it. He liked the food and he'd go down there and it was a dive. I didn't dare go in and I remember the cinder block and they had a big window looked like it was made from you know like old car windshields or something. Anyhow I come back after 30 years and there's Pico De Gallo in a big fancy building. Well of course the place they had is gone, I guess that's part of that frontrunner, that whole development in there. Kammeyer's bought a lot of sporting goods in there and Read's they sold canvas goods, tents and stuff like that besides the leather and the saddlery. The hardware store, and I mentioned Ketchum's. By the time I went to Ketchum's, Klenke's was gone. I think that was the name of the place, love that old hardware store cause it was all compartmented. It was before blister packs and all these little drawers with a little index thing on front. The ladder with the track and I just groove on that stuff and I'm sure when they razed the building they just hauled it all instead of saving at least part of the wall. LR: I think we're winding down here, which I find sad. I want to keep talking, however can you think of anything else on those two streets that you've missed or that you'd like to add before we wind down? FY: I mentioned the gun and the Smith and Edward's. You got to check with Bert about that gun. 65 LR: I'll talk to Sarah and see what she can come up with. FY: You might check out that story I have about that horse by some vet out on west 12th street. LR: Now is that the one that they called Black Nig? FY: Old Nig. LR: Old Nig, thank you. I knew it was something like that. FY: Yeah that was—he was a famous horse around town, I don't know, probably somebody owned him. See now here, here's 25th street and Grant it's this building here on the corner. LR: The hotel? FY: Yeah see and over here would be the bus station. I was at the Egyptian theater back to hear—I can't remember if it was Robert Taft or Everett Dirkson, but I think it was Robert Taft. He tried running for president and he came out and he gave a speech at the Egyptian theater and they let any management people who desired to get off for an hour or two to go up to hear them talk. I remember, I was, boy I was a staunch republican and I was there. I remember, don't remember what he said but I remember the incident mostly because I got an hour or two off work see. Now here's 25th street see. Here's the Marion Hotel so what the hell is this one? LR: Okay that's where Willie's store is now, in the bottom of the Marion. FY: Why did they do this? 66 LR: Now it's a— FY: Diagonal? LR: Diagonal so they've changed it. FY: What were these barriers for? LR: Crosswalks, because there are crosswalks now. FY: That's the building. I thought that was—until I saw this picture I thought that was the Marion Hotel. See anyhow one of these places here was the Friendly Tap, the Friendly Tavern and the band would stand right there, Salvation Army Band, and they'd play for about an hour/45 minutes. It was great because it was about five people, they had the drum of course. Beating the bass, that's classic and we'd walk over and that's when I was telling you we were living on top of the Richard Sheet Metal cause we had that little dog. People were turning us down for an apartment and see here's the empty lot where the grocery store was and the hotel upstairs. After they shut down all the vice it became skid row. They tell you in here, yeah I remember it was a skid row and the only places decent people went was the China Temple or the Star Noodle cause you kind of feared for your life. It was porter's and waiter's club and what I found interesting in here, the names. They talk about councilmen and mayors and a lot of these names come back and I remember. I saw in there George T. Frost was the councilmen, elected to the council. I knew him, he had a Hudson dealership on Washington Boulevard. He had a brother that drove truck for Swift. I don't 67 remember his first name, we called him Frosty. He got killed, ran his truck over somewhere back east. Mayor White, Rulon White, he's the guy who started cleaning up the town. I guess I voted for him because he was elected 1951, I was here. He was the White Concrete Pipe Co. down on I think Wall Avenue they were. He had an orchard or something past the hot springs going up there on that fruitway and Rulon White Ranch was what they called it or something. 68

Issue 69.1 of the Review for Religious, 2010. ; The ApostolicI Visitation Adapting the Ignatia~i Exercises From Ygung and Old " Prac~tic'al Wisdom QUARTERLY 69.1 2010 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 reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯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 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. ©2010 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 distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Ehgene 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 69.1 2010 contents prisms 4 Prisms 6 16 the apostolic visitation The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious: A Visitator's Perspective M. Clare Millea ASCJ explains the purpose and process of the apostolic visitation of the U.S. institutes of women religious and its intended impetus to apostolic witness and vitality. The Apostolic Visitation: An Invitation to Intercultural Dialogue Kathleen Hughes RSCJidescribes the intercultural dialogue that provides the best framework for the apostolic visitation of United States women religious, a useful habit of heart, and some possible hope-filled outcomes. 31 47 adapting the ignatian exercises Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say J. Thomas Hamel SJ examines the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius to point out the subtle but consistent ways in which retreatants become authors of the Exercises, putting their own experience into words. Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation Louis M. Savary expands the reading of St. Ignatius's Call of the King meditation through the incorporation of ideas from the Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. Review for Religious 63 71 from young and old ~1 Gleanings from My First Ten Years Ann Marie Paul SCC celebrates her profession of perpetual vows after living religious life for ten years by sharing eight pieces of wisdom she has learned. Monasteries of Meteora Mary Frances Coady gives her visual and spiritual impressions of ancient traditions kept by Eastern Christian monastics on a rocky peninsula of Greece. 77 practical wisdom ~ Kindness, the Everyday Virtue " James H. Kroeger MM delves into kindness's depth of meaning and inexhaustible potential for increasing goodness anywhere. 90 Ten Ideas on Priesthood George Olivera OFMCap offers ways to consider our Christian priesthood that may be helpful to priests and for those who pray for them and who enjoy their ministry. 97 102 departments ~ Scripture Scope: Praying the Psalms as Songs of Praise Book Reviews 69.1 2010 prisms T Apostolic Visitation of Women Religious in the United States has elic-ited a lot of speculation about its purpose and intended outcome and roused various emotional responses from religious and laity alike. Some speculation allows for an honest effort on the part of the Vatican offices to eval-uate the Vatican II-inspired renewal efforts of U.S. women religious, their discerned change in choices of ministry or ways of ministering, and the reality of their meager vocation recruit-ment. Most people, even among the critics, acknowledge that U.S. women religious took seriously the renewal call issued by Vatican II and responded more wholeheartedly than the men religious and the rest of the U.S. church. Realizing that certain ministries no longer required the massive effort of sheer numbers, women religious followed the church's lead and their own original charisms by seeking to serve those marginalized in our current society makeup--the poor, the handicapped, women in dire straits--and by advocating for justice in many spheres. While many more needy people were being served, women religious often lost the visibility that accompanied their corpo-rate mission in schools and hospitals. Among a Review for Religious number of factors in American family life and culture, vocational recruitment suffered from the positive secu-lar possibilities of the feminist equality movement and from the continued limits imposed on women's roles and leadership in the church. There is no doubt that the U.S. church is as strong as it is because of the work and witness of women religious through the 19th and 20th centuries. Many are the veri-fied accounts of bishops and local pastors using and mis-using the work of religious women in their own chosen endeavors. The generous sacrifices of women religious in the U.S. church are documented and unforgettable. What now needs to be honored in the current, often still hidden and unacknowledged, ministry of women religious is their being the church's arms reaching out to a world-in-need. The witness of their apostolic lives cannot now be measured by institutions, corporate devotional emphases, or monastic garb. Apostolic reli-gious life cannot be well evaluated by monastic criteria, which seemingly inspire the current study. The theology of religious life has never adequately explained the breadth of religious-life development because it has retained monasticism as its norm. Church leadership has consistently found apostolic religious life to be second-class and deficient as measured against the monastic ideal. Perhaps the Vatican s~dy will be the occasion for a breakthrough in the understanding and acceptance of the breadth of apostolic religious life in the church of the 21st century. U.S. women religious will have offered the worldwide church a most precious gift of wisdom and insight into the true living of the Spirit-given charism of active religious life. David L. Fleming SJ 69.1 2010 the . a, postol c Visitation M. CLARE MILLEA The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious: A Visitator's Perspective How many times in our lives, while living through a particularly challenging situation, we reflect on earlier situations in which we felt stretched beyond our own limited resources and abilities. Unable to do anything but rely upon God in surrender and trust, we later realize that not only did the Lord sustain us beyond our imagining, but those very expe-riences taught us the relational and practical skills we would need in far more challenging circumstances to come. I have reflected often during the past year about how many of my personal experiences have shaped and honed the gifts I hope to bring to the Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious in the United States. M. Clare Millea ASCJ is the superior general of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Her U.S. address is Mt. Sacred Heart; 295 Benham Street; Hamden, Connecticut 06514. Review for Religious During my early years in religious life, I learned to see beyond external limitations--such as those of the mentally challenged children and adults I lived with and served--and was able to truly respect and cherish, as they do, the inner beauty of each unique person. Much later, as the newly elected superior general of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and before beginning dialogue or canonical visitation with each of my more than 1200 sisters, I made a whirlwind tour of the communities in the fourteen nations in which my sisters are missioned. I was welcomed into every faith community by lively music, colorful dance, lovely handmade gifts, and much jovial hugging. At one point, exhausted by travel, extreme changes of climate and cul-ture, and the strain of communicating in various lan-guages, I tearfully confided to a priest my difficulty in responding with enthusiasm to these endless outpour-ings of love. Father gently explained to me that his peo-ple needed to use exuberant gestures to express their joy and gratitude for visible signs of God's presence so that they would not succumb to the weight of their daily struggles for survival. That simple explanation was a truly graced moment for me, a key to entering into the world of those faith-filled people and many others whom I would later come to know. Moments such as these throughout my many years of congregational service have intensified in me the desire to synchronize the beating of my .heart with the heart of the other person, to understand, accept, and lovingly embrace her in her uniqueness. International living and travel have strengthened in me the liberating conviction that "my way" is not the only valid way or necessarily the best way to be or to do. While I still struggle at times to succinctly articulate my congregation's unique 69.1 2010 Millea ¯ Tbe Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious charism of witnessing that God loves each person with the human and divine love of Jesus, I am continually awed to sense the charism coursing through the veins of every Apostle of the Heart of Jesus throughout the world. I feel constantly renewed and challenged by my sisters to authentic religious living while at the same time I try to discover with them how we can grow in personal holiness, effective gospel witness, and fruitful ministry in communion with the church. My recent appointment as apostolic visitator to the institutes of women religious in the United States, the first instance of a woman religious being delegated with apostolic authority to carry out such a service to the church, seems ovei'whelming at times. While my affir-mative response to this mandate from the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) requires considerable per-sonal sacrifice, I have embraced it as a joyful expression of that unconditional assent to the divine will that I freely offered to God, to the church, and to my supe-riors on the day of my religious profession. Personally and through the religious who assist me in carrying it out, I sincerely endeavor to encounter with holy respect the members of each of the religious institutes involved in the apostolic visitation. The Church's Pastoral Concern for Religious Life In the apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata, Pope John Paul II clearly affirmed that consecrated life, with its variety of charisms and institutions, is a treasure which has its origin in the example and teachings of Jesus Christ. It is a gift of God the Father to the church through the Holy Spirit, a precious and necessary gift for the present and future of the People of God, and an Review for Religious intimate part of the church's life, holiness, and mission.1 Women and men freely choose to live in institutes which are canonically erected by the competent authority of the church. Through the profession of ~ ,~ vows or other sacred bonds, according to the institute's proper law, they profess the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience and, through the charity ~ to which the coun-sels lead, are joined in a special way to ~ the church.2 On her - ~ part, the church has the duty of clarifying the identity, the vocation, and the particular mission of religious institutes and promoting their ecclesial communion? The apostolic visitation of institutes of women religious in the United States was promulgated with the express approval of Pope Benedict XVI.4 In a recent address to the members of the council for rela-tions between CICLSAL and the men's and women's International Unions of Superiors General, the Holy Father noted that religious communities are not exempt from the increasing difficulty encountered in proclaim-ing and witnessing to the gospel in our modern global-ized society. While acknowledging the difficult crisis that has affected many congregations by reason of the aging of members, a more or less pronounced decrease in the number of vocations, and a certain "spiritual and charismatic weariness," he indicated that the Holy Spirit The Church has the duty of clari~ing the identity, the vocation, and the particular mission of religious institutes an~d promoting their e~clesial communioh. 69.1 2010 Millea ¯ The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious continues to inspire a new commitment to fidelity in long-established institutes and in new forms of religious consecration as well. He pointed out that authentic actualization of the founders' charism has resulted in a promising new ascetic, apostolic, and missionary impe-tus for many congregations.5 The current apostolic visitation can rightfully be seen as a pastoral desire of the Apostolic See to journey with religious congregations as they respond to Pope Benedict's renewed invitation to "start afresh from Christ.''6 In open and honest dialogue with the univer-sal church, the visitation is a means for congregations to evaluate their present reality with courage and truth, to rediscover their founding charism, and to live it in a more authentic manner appropriate for the present time. In particular, it offer~ major superiors and their sisters a privileged opportunity to present to the Apostolic See their congregation's unique charismatic identity, as well as their communal and ministerial expression of religious life. It likewise affords the Apostolic See a way to listen to the joys, accomplishments, hopes, and concerns of the sisters and, together with the religious themselves, to seek strategies for enhancing the vitality of the individual institutes. In order to attain beneficial results, the dialogue with the Apostolic See must begin with an honest self-evaluation of the congregation's lived fidelity to its internal norms and to universal church law. The grace of the apostolic visitation can only occur in a climate of prayer, docility, open dialogue, and collaboration, with a sincere desire on the members' part to examine the congregation's strengths and weaknesses and to effect changes which would enhance the expression of its charism and ecclesial identity. Review for Religious Phases of the Apostolic Visitation The apostolic visitation is being carried out in four phases. In Phase 1, which lasted from April through July 2009, more than 75 percent of the superiors general whose institutes are included in the visitation responded to the invitation of Cardinal Franc Rodd, prefect of CICLSAL, to enter into personal dialogue with the visitator. Attentive and respectful listening to the hopes and dreams of those wonderful congregational leaders deepened my esteem for the women religious who courageously and faith-fully witness to their foundresses' and founders' spiritual patrimony and spend themselves in generous service to the church. The major superiors' love for and pride in their sisters were clearly evident as they shared their collective stoW and vision. These interviews and letters helped me formulate more precisely the objectives and procedures of the visitation. In July 2009 the Instrumenturn laboris7 or working document for the apostolic visitation was released, out-lining its nature, purpose, and procedures. Major supe-riors were encouraged to use the reflection questions contained in the working document to engage their sisters in a. process of self-evaluation regarding their congregation's unique identity, their present experience of community life, their mission and ministry, and their hopes and concerns for the future. During Phase 2 of the apostolic visitation, major superiors were asked to complete a questionnaire regard-ing fundamental aspects of their congregation's identity, present lifestyle, and future projections. The questions were similar in content to those already suggested for community reflection in the Instrumenturn laboris and were based on the model of religious life proposed in post-Vatican Council II documents on religious life8 69.1 2010 Millea ¯ The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious and the Code of Canon Law. The questionnaire was composed of three sections. Part A requested statistical data about the congregation itself, the demographics of its members, living arrangements, care for elderly and infirm members, and ministerial presence. Its results have been collected by the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate (CARA), which will prepare an aggregate report of the findings for all reporting institutes, respect-ing the ahonymity of the individual congregations. The questions in Part B of the questionnaire offered the major superiors the opportunity to share with the Apostolic See the unique reality of their congrega-tion, They were designed to permit the major superi-ors to express each congregation's unique way of living the evangelical counsels, in accord with their founding charism and their own fundamental documents, approved by the church. The questions also sought basic informa-tion regarding governance, vocation promotion and for-marion policies, the spiritual and common life, mission and ministry, and financial administration. In addition, major superiors were invited to offer further explanations or comments to express their reality more completely. In Part C of the questionnaire, major superiors were asked to submit basic and supplementary congregational documents, such as constitutions, ancillary norms, for-marion plans, and chapter decisions. A complete copy of the questionnaire is available on the Apostolic Visitation website.9 The canonical model of religious life which under-lies the questions does not fully correspond to the lived reality of certain institutes. The questionnaire extended an invitation to those communities which appear to be evolving into a new form of consecrated life to describe their emerging expression of vowed living.1° Honest and Review for Religious respectful conversation between the institute and the Apostolic See could predictably lead to greater clarity of purpose and identity. During Phase 2 the apostolic visitator also extended an invitation to bishops and individual members of reli-gious communi-ties to share their observations. Input from any persons whose lives have been affected by women religious is also welcomed. All such contributions are assured confi-dentiality. A core team of religious who are aiding the visitator is currently evaluating the data received in preparation for the subsequent phases of the apostolic visitation. The third phase will begin in the spring of 2010 with on-site visits to a representative sample of institutes con-ducted by teams of religious visitors who will act indi-vidually and collectively in the name of the Apostolic See. The visitors were chosen from among the many fine religious nominated by superiors general and others and represent a variety of congregations and areas of exper-tise. Before conducting the on-site visits, all potential visitors will have participated in an orientation workshop during which they will pronounce the public profession of faith and the oath of fidelity to the Apostolic See that are made by those assuming offices to be exercised in the church's name2~ This profession carries with it a special grace which will strengthen the visitors in their delicate i~c: ,Adore~,team of religious who are ~aiding the visitator is currently ,,evaluating the data received in ~:preparation for the subsequent phases of the apostolic visitation. 69.1 2010 Millea ¯ The Apostolic Visitation of Institutes of Women Religious task. It will assist them to faithfully carry out their role in communion with the sound teachings and practice of the Catholic Church and not according to their own private judgment or subjective ideology.'2 The on-site visitors will engage in dialogue primarily with the members of leadership teams and a representa-tive group of the sisters, eliciting their vision of the joys, challenges, and obstacles the religious face in seeking to live authentically their charismatic identity. The details of the on-site visit will be arranged with the congrega-tions to be visited in such a way as to afford the visitors a broad and objective picture of the life and mission of the congregation and its impact on the local church. The visitation team will formulate a report for the apostolic visitator in which they will seek to articulate the accom-plishments, the key strengths, and the challenges of the institute as revealed in their dialogue and will include any recommendations which they consider appropriate. In Phase 4 of the visitation, drawing from the data gathered in the previous phases, the apostolic visitator will prepare for CICLSAL a summary report of each of the participating congregations, whether or not they will have received an on-site visit. Each of the congrega-tions will receive feedback for the purpose of promoting their charismatic identity and apostolic vitality in ongo-ing dialogue with the local and universal church. There is much good news to tell about the history and present reality of religious life in the United States. There are also great challenges to be faced so that reli-gious may continue to offer selfless service to the church and to the people who long for our unique witness to Christ through our lives, works, and words. May the fervent prayer of the church sustain women religious on the path of ongoing conversion and renewal that they Review for Religious may be a more vibrant presence and effective instrument of evangelization into the future. As did Pope John Paul in the conclusion to VTta consecrata, we entrust all reli-gious to the Virgin of the Visitation, that the church may always be gifted with generous women who, as lov-ing consecrated persons, will continue to bring Jesus to the poor, the hungry, those without hope, the little ones, and all who seek Jesus with a sincere heart.13 Notes ~ See John Paul II, Vita consecrata, §§1 & 3. 2 See Code of Canon Law, c. 573, §2. 3 See Vita consecrata, §4. 4 Decree, Prot. N. 16905/2008, at . 5 Benedict XVI, Address to Members of the Council for Relations between the CICLSAL and the USG and IUSG, 2/18/2008, at . 6 Ibid. See also CICLSAL, instruction Starting Afresh front Christ (2002). 7 To obtain a complete text of the Instrumentum laboris, see . 8 See especially John Paul II, Vita consecrata (1996); CICLSAL, Starting Afresh from Christ (2002); CICLSAL, The Service of Authority and Obedience (2008). 9 See and . ~0 See Questionnaire, Part B, Section 1, E: "Is your institute mov-ing toward a new form of religious life? If so, how is this new form specifically related to the church's and your institute's understanding of religious life?" ~' See ; Origins 28 (1998): 163-164. 12 See Lumen gentium, §25. ~3 See I/ita consecrata, §I 12. 69.1 2010 KATHLEEN HUGHES The Apostolic Visitation: An Invitation to Intercultural Dialogue EOtxrar owrodmineanry r etliimgieosu.s in the United States, these are In February 2009 Cardinal Franc Rod~, prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL), stunned American women religious by announcing "an Apostolic Visitation of the Generalates, Provincialates, and Centers of Initial Formation of the Principal Religious Institutes of Women in the United States of America." The pur-pose of the visitation is, according to Cardinal Rod4, "to look into the quality of the life of apostolic congre-gations of women religious in the United States.''1 Kathleen Hughes, a Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, former professor of Word and Worship at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago and former provincial of her order's United States prov-ince, is currently a mission consultant in the Network of Sacred Heart Schools. Her address is 541 S. Mason Road; St. Louis, Missouri 63141. . Review for Religious Scarcely had this news been absorbed when a second announcement compounded the surprise and confusion of United States women religious. In March 2009 the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) was informed by letter that Cardinal William Levada, prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, had initiated a doctrinal investigation of LCWR's activities and initiatives, particularly citing the tenor and content of various addresses given at the LCWR annual assemblies in recent years. While the visitation of women religious and the investigation of LCWR are distinct, their simultaneity was not lost on many observers, and it has been reported that Cardinal Levada's decision to investigate LCWR was made while in communication with Cardinal Rod~. These two initiatives stirred up questions, a variety of feelings, and--given that those principally affected did not participate in the planning of these investigations--a broad range of speculation about motivations and pos-sible (or probable) outcomes. This article will focus on only one of these initiatives, the Apostolic Visitation. The first section will consider the process of the visitation and the storm that arose as knowledge of it spread across the country. The second section will offer a perspective with which to understand and prepare for the visitati6n, namely, as an invitation to intercultural dialogue. The third section will suggest a habit of heart which may prove useful for visitors and visited alike. The concluding section will propose some potentially beneficial outcomes of the visitation. The Visitation and Initial Responses to It On the face of it, the visitation is a fairly straight-forward two-year process. Cardinal Rodd appointed 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ Tbe Aposto.lic Visitation The visitation "is intended to comprehensively assess and encourage the growth of Catholic institutes of women religious in the United States who engage in apostolic works." Sister M. Clare Millea, superior general of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, to oversee the visitation. Sister Clare announced three phases for the visitation. The first phase, completed in July 2009, offered major superiors of orders of women religious in the United States the opportunity to meet with Sister Clare in per-son or by phone or letter to express their hopes, ioys, concerns, and other observations about their orders; approximately fifty-two percent of them did so.2 The second phase was a question-naire, completed in November 2009. This questionnaire solicited a wide range of empirical data from every apos-tolic order of women in the United States, and asked for whatever observations and aspirations they wanted to express. Compliance with this second phase varied widely across the country. Because of concern expressed by many major superiors, the request for personnel and financial information was dropped from this phase.The third phase of the visitation, on-site visits of "a rep-resentative sample of religious institutes,''3 will begin in the spring of 2010. For this phase Sister Clare will be joined by other religious, women and some men, who will form teams of visitors. After on-site visits are complete, Sister Clare will send Cardinal Rod4 a confi-dential report summarizing all the information gleaned Review for Religious from the visitation's three phases. In addition, individual confidential reports of all congregations will be pre-pared for the cardinal. The reports of those congrega-tions receiving on-site visits will be more extensive. The visitation's website (www.apostolicvisitaton. org) offers both the reason for the visitation and its objective. The visitation "is intended to comprehen-sively assess and encourage the growth of Catholic institutes of women religious in the United States who engage in apostolic works." Why a visit? Because "reli-gious life has passed through challenging times. The Congregation for Consecrated Life is aware that many new congregations have emerged in the United States while many others have decreased in membership or have an increased median age. Apostolic works have also changed significantly because of societal changes. These and other areas need to be better understood and assessed in order to safeguard and promote consecrated life in the United States.''4 It sounds so benign. Why the furor from so many quarters? The anguish of many people, religious women and a throng of their supporters and friends as well, springs from the very nature of an apostolic visitation, some-thing generally intended for the correction of abuses. The lack of participation of major superiors in the visit's design, the secrecy about those chiefly responsible for it, and wonderment about its conclusions--all of this causes concern. What abuse exactly is this visitation meant to correct? Most women religious believe they have been living faithfully that form of religious life which emerged from their obedience to the church's mandate for renewal at Vatican Council II, and which is distilled in the congregations' constitutions--rules 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ Tbe Apostolic Visitation of life previously approved by CICLSAL, the very con-gregation now mandating the visitation. Furthermore, congregations have built into their governance certain internal structures (general chapters, for example, or the periodic visits of those in leadership) for the protection of their spiritual heritage, for evaluation of their fidel-ity to their constitutions, and for assessment of people's needs in the light of the gospel so as to establish min-isterial priorities. Women religious in the United States have also embraced a pattern of discernment and decision-making which welcomes the participation of every member. For many religious congregations, transparency and collegi-ality have become a way of life. Why, then, a visitation initiated without the collaboration of those being vis-ited, lacking collegiality, shrouded in secrecy? The apos-tolic visitation of women religious and the concurrent investigation of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious make many feel beleaguered, others fearful, others suspicious or angry. There are other voices being heard, of course. Some think it is high time someone examined what is hap-pening among women religious--whether the vows are being lived, whether prayer is still the core of religious life, whether women religious should be working out-side institutional church structures, and whether women religious should be advocating for those on the margins or promoting issues of justice within and beyond the church. Still others believe that the visitation provides an opportunity for women religious to go more deeply into issues of substance. The forty questions posed by the visitation's Instrumentum laboris, that is, its working paper, touch on everything from charism, vows, lead- Reviem for Religious ership, formation, spiritual life, and community living to mission, ministry, and financial administration,s For many women religious today, conversations on these topics happen less frequently than they would wish because of the multiple demands placed on their time and energy. There is always the danger that values taken for granted or left unarticulated become inoperative. Conversations on the essential elements of religious life may help participants discern anew where the Spirit is leading. These conflicting voices and divergent responses mirror the church at large not only in response to the visitation but on __ myriad issues large and small. Clearly, we need to find a way to talk together, to speak with integ-rity and honesty about matters of substance with those who may not share our worldview. Above . all, we need to find a way to reframe the conversation which this visitation invites us to have among ourselves and with our visitors. Even though the visitation is limited to the United States, and visiting teams will be formed from members of U.S. orders, the visitation is sure to find a range of "cultures" among us because of differing generations, theologies, spiritualities, forma-tion experiences, educational opportunities, and so on. The growing discipline of intercultural dialogue may We :need to find a way to talk together, to speak with integrity and honesty about matters of substance with those Who may not share our worldview. 21 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ Tbe Apostolic Visitation provide the best framework and some guidance for our exchange. Intercultural Dialogue: A Definition and Some Guidelines Choose any Internet search engine and you will find thousands of entries on intercultural dialogue, offering various definitions of it and rules for engaging in it. The following definition is representative: Intercultural dialogue is an open and respectful exchange of views between individuals and groups belonging to different cultures that leads to a deeper understanding of the other's global perception. In this definition, "open and respectful" means "based on the equal value of the partners"; "exchange of views" stands for every type of interaction that reveals cul-tural characteristics; "groups" stands for every type of collective that can act through its representatives (family, community, associations, peoples); "culture" includes everything relating to ways of life, customs, beliefs, and other things that have passed on to us for generations, as well as the various forms of artistic creation; "world perception" stands for values and ways of thinking.6 Intercultural dialogue invites all interested parties to an open and respectful exchange with a view to deeper mutual understandings. Intercultural dialogue promotes esteem for diversity and insists that "different" does not mean "deficient." It fosters mutuality in the face of unequal power relations and forges partnerships in a common cause. And surely the most profound outcome looked for is the transformation of all who take part-- interior conversions that make room for changed forms, images, and behaviors and the freedom to see new pos-sibilities and to make choices that promote growth. Revie~v for Religious Among some simple rules for intercultural exchange, the most important is that of active listening, listening to one another with respect and openness, indeed with reverence. Each religious community being visited has a unique history shaped by the founder and her or his culture and circumstances. Each order has a unique charism and spirit, a set of traditions, beliefs, customs, even a particular "vernacular language" shaped over the years from the teachings and writings of members who have gone before, prophets and mystics among them, who have had a formative influence on the institute. Each order has a rule of life which is precious to the members, having been carefully composed and then gradually finding its way into their hearts. There may be a common set of questions in the Instrumentum laboris and a range of issues to be explored during on-site visits, but the answers will be as varied as the wonderful variety of religious communities which for almost two millennia have grown up in response to the Spirit's prompfings regarding particular needs of the day and the place. There are no "right" answers, but there will be many ways that sisters will express their following of Christ within a particular rule of life. The visitors, too, will have specific and precious religious heritages that shape their understanding and expecta-tions of religious life. Active listening--listening that is open to the hearts of others in the dialogue~is required of visitors and the visited alike. A second rule for the dialogue is to speak from one's own experience, not in the language of "they" or even "we," but "I." I believe, I think, I choose, I struggle with, I have come to appreciate, even I don't know or I am not sure. The living of religious life is an imprecise science, dependent as it is in the last analysis on each 69.1 2010 Hughes * The Apostolic Visitation 24 one's intimate and unique relationship with God. We grow into our understanding of prayer, the vows, com-munal life and mission during the course of years of choices made before God, in the power of the Spirit, and in communion with one another. Each member's experience and expression of religious life has been shaped by so many different influences, chief among them prayer, community life, ministerial experiences, and wise guides along the way. Rarely, if ever, can we read one another's mind or heart. Best, then, to speak only our own truth. A third rule for the dialogue is not to fear differ-ences but to welcome a respectful challenge, a thought-ful follow-up question. Particular external choices of lifestyle--for example, regarding housing options or ministerial options or the use of money--are less impor-tant than the reasons such choices have been made, the communal discernments which prompted this or that decision. In some instances clearly life-altering decisions have been made by local communities or whole con-gregations after long and serious prayer and reflection. These choices do not admit of true or false, yes or no, but require a reflective exchange whose eventual reward will be deeper insight. A fourth rule of intercultural dialogue is to come to common agreement about the scope of the conversa-tion. Both the Instrumentum laboris and the question-naire of phase two of the visitation present a wide range of topics for personal reflection. Not all of these topics, however, were appropriate for comment in the ques-tionnaire of phase two, especially if major superiors were in possession of information gleaned in personal manifestations of conscience, nor should some topics be included in the on-site dialogues of phase three. Review for Religious There are canonical norms which govern the extent of the dialogue. Subjects such as the frequency of one's sacramental participation are more appropriate to the internal forum and, in any case, are beyond the scope of the visitation. Furthermore, any questions with poten-tially incriminating consequences may also be politely deflected. Participants in an intercultural dialogue must know and accept the boundaries of the conversation; in an apostolic visitation, the boundaries are demarcated in canon law.7 Finally, intercultural dialogue is best and most fruitfully employed when all the participants have had an opportunity to shape the dialogue and accept the rules which bind the par-ticipants. In the case of the apostolic visi-tation, certain rules have been imposed from the outset which are troubling to some of those expected to partici-pate. Especially neu-ralgic among women religious who are used to openness ¯ Participants in an intercultural dialogue must know and accept the .boundaries of the conversation; ~in .an apostolic visitation, ithe boundaries are ~,~demarcated in canon law. and transparency is the secrecy surrounding the visita-tion's motivation and its final reports. Some opportunity for participants to negotiate the rules of the visitationt[ would be a good-faith gesture to women religious who ~ welcome courageous, gende, and respectful dialogue as partners with a church they love. 69.1 2010 Hughes * Tbe Apostolic Visitation A Useful Habit of Heart The habit of heart I want to recommend in prepara-tion for the visitation comes from my own experience of an earlier visitation. More than twenty years ago, I was part of the first apostolic visitation of seminar-ies and houses of formation in the United States. In 1981 the Holy See appointed Bishop John A. Marshall of Burlington, Vermont, to serve as apostolic visitator for this process, which took nearly seven years from announcement to formal conclusion. At the time of the visit, I was a member of the faculty of the Catholic Theological Union (CTU) in Chicago, teaching in the department of Word and Worship. Bishop Marshall himself led the party of visitors to CTU, and I was invited by the administration to meet with him. My visit with Bishop Marshall was not a happy expe-rience for me, perhaps because intercultural dialogue had not yet been discovered. Upon my being asked "What are you doing here?" my half hour was spent, about equally, in parrying questions about the alleged behavior of oth-ers on the faculty and staff and in defending my inter-pretation of the General Instruction of the Roman Missal and other liturgical norms. Too quickly our conversation ended, and I realized almost at once that I had not had a chance to communicate my appreciation of CTU, its extraordinary faculty and student body, and its commit-ment to educating faithful ministers for the post-Vatican II world church. Furthermore I had been given no oppor-tunity to speak of my own contribution to the mission of CTU. I asked for and was granted a second visit. Why put myself through that experience twice? The words of 1 Peter 3:15 express it best. "Always be pre-pared to make a defense to anyone who calls you to account for the hope that is in you, yet do it with gen- Review for Religious tleness and reverence." I wanted to give an account of my hope, based on a faculty where intellectual rigor and faith, were wed, on a student body of women and men from all over the world preparing to commit themselves to a life of service of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and on the local church in Chicago, where the leadership of Cardinal Joseph Bernardin gave extraordinary witness to the very qualities of holiness and gospel service we were trying to nurture in ourselves and instill in our students. For many women religious, hope is what has kept us faithful to this privileged journey in the midst of the numerous challenges of these last several decades. Changing demographics, underfunded ministries, elder care decision-making, conversations towards merger, cus-toms no longer viable, and ministerial needs forever out-stripping our human and material resources--all of these realities have tested congregations and their leaders. At the same time, that basic love and longing for God which brought us to the threshold of religious life still drives us, together, to seek and find God in contemplative prayer, in a life of common purpose, in zeal which keeps even the oldest among us focused on mission. Hope is the glue in religious life today. That hope must be the undercurrent of every exchange during on-site visits. If our visitors discover little else, they should leave with the conviction that hope is why we came to religious life and why we stay and why we get out of bed each morning and why, despite all the challenges and limitations we experience, we try every day to be God's heart on earth. "Always be prepared to make a defense to anyone who calls you to account for the hope that is in you, yet do it with gentleness and reverence." How wise of 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ The Apostolic V'~itation the author of First Peter to link hope to gentleness and reverence, two other habits of heart which we do well to foster. If we do so, the intercultural dialogues in our future will accomplish in all of us, visitors and visited, great transformations of head and heart and mission. Hopeful Expectation What might be expected at the conclusion of this apostolic visitation? Approximately three hundred forty communities of apostolic women religious will have con-tributed to a composite picture of religious life in the United States. Sister M. Clare Millea has the unenviable task of summarizing all the information and impressions gleaned from her visits with major superiors, from the empirical data tabulated from many questionnaires, and from the reports of numerous on-site visits to moth-erhouses and houses of formation. This composite report together with individual reports of the religious orders will be presented to Cardinal Franc Rod~ and the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life. It is to be hoped that major superiors and their councils will have had an opportu-nity to see these reports, to correct factual errors, and to participate inthe assembling of recommendations before their formal presentation to Cardinal Rode. Then what? Here are some possible hope-filled outcomes, first on the institutional level. The Instrumentum laboris poses some thoughtful questions about institutional sponsor-ship, care of the elderly, ongoing formation resources, and so on. In the course of the visitation, it is possible that some "best practices" might emerge--the kind of information that the Leadership Conference of Women Religious has worked to surface and circulate among its Review for Religious members for many years. While respecting the auton-omy of each institute, congregations with similar proj-ects or needs might be invited to consult with other congregations that have addressed similar issues with success. Another institutional prospect might be that those communities no longer viable because of a lack of either personnel or financing might be given the sup-port they need to make decisions for their future. On the personal level, the visitation could have a profound outcome. The Instrumenturn laboris for this visitation has a long series of thoughtful questions for personal study and prayer. These questions touch on the essence of religious life with two serious omissions: contemplation and other forms of solitary prayer are not mentioned, nor is there any reference to the quality and tone of community life, only to religious exercises performed in common. Apart from those lacunae, the document together with its numerous citations of other documents from the Apostolic See is, on balance, a rich resource for reflection and prayer and for conversa-tions within and across communities and congregations. Whether a congregation receives an on-site visit or not, this process has the potential for renewal among us. It also has the possibility of instilling in us a deeper real-ization of our place in the church and a deeper appre-ciation of our work as collaborators with our ordained and professed brothers in the public life of the church. And is it foolish to hope for one last outcome? Is it possible that this Apostolic Visitation might conclude with a resounding "thank you" to nearly sixty thou-sand women who have lived religious life as faithfully as nature and grace could achieve, making God's love known through their ministries and by their very lives? For this, let us pray to the Lord. 29 69.1 2010 Hughes ¯ Tbe Apostolic Visitation Notes ~ Letter of Cardinal Franc Rod~ to the Superiors General of Congregations of Women Religious in the United States, 2 February 2009. 2 Of approximately 340 eligible communities, 177 responded through visits or letters to Phase One. See the Apostolic Visitation web-site "Update on the Progress of Phase 3 See Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life, Instrumentum Laboris for Apostolic Visitation of the General Houses, Provincial Houses, and Centers of Initial Formation of the Principal Religious Institutes of Women in the United States of America. Protocol No. 16805/2008. 4 The Apostolic Visitation website, Frequently Asked Questions. s A copy of the Instrumentum laboris is available on the Apostolic Visitation website. 6 European Roma Information Office, White Paper on Intercultural Dialogue. 7 See the Resource Center for Religious Institutes, The Apostolic Visitation of Women Religious in the United States: A Canonical Reflection. 9 March 2009. Review for Religious j. THOMAS HAMEL Discovering What St. Ignatius Does Not Say Having accompanied a number of people on retreat for quite a few years--the ordained, the married and single, religious of various congre-gations-- I continue to delight in seeing that people unacquainted with Ignatius's little book actually mirror it in their own retreat experi-ence. Along with those who are quite famil-iar with Ignatius's words ("Divine Majesty," "God our Lord," "Creator and Lord," "Two Standards," and so forth), they have a retreat experience that is personal, profound, and Ignatian. In this way the Spiritual Exercises show themselves to be primarily oral. The "annotations" that introduce them appear to be the result of conversations throughout the four Weeks of retreat. What happens to the retreatants is usually the very thing Ignatius j. Thomas Hamel SJ last wrote for us in 2008, in our 67.2 issue. His address remains College of the Holy Cross; 1 College Street; Worcester, Massachusetts 01610. adapting the ignati.an exercises 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say How Jesus Christ is present in creation is how he: is present in the Eucharist. hoped would happen. Retreatants become authors of the Exercises, putting their own experience into words. Enlightened by graces asked for and received, and lis-tened to by their director, they gradually own the experi-ence they has been graced with. "For it is not so much knowledge that fills and satisfies the soul, but rather the intimate feeling and relishing of things.''1 Being led to search out and find in ourselves the desires and ways of God is the touchstone of the Exercises. Ignatius's sober language actually encour-ages us to go beyond his words, and yet at times his notes and suggestions seem like an overload. He takes note of our waking up and going to sleep. He comments on the way we take meals. He pays attention to the warmth of the sun in winter and the effect of closing the shut-ters of our room. His interest in physical posture seems as modern as yoga lessons, not to mention his sensitive and insightful responses to inner changes and emo-tions, high and low and in between. In the end, how-ever, Ignatius does not tell us what to do. He will not interfere with God's coming and communicating (§ 15). Like John the Baptist at Jesus' baptism, Ignatius simply disappears so that retreatants may (like Jesus) hear the Father's voice and feel the Holy Spirit descending like a dove (Mk 1:10-11). A striking instance of Ignatius disappearing in the Exercises is the Principle and Foundation: "The human person is created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Review for Religiotls Lord and by so doing to save his or her soul . One must use created things insofar as they help towards one's end, and free oneself from them insofar as they are obstacles to one's end. To do this we need to make ourselves indifferent to all created things" (§23). A subtle glory radiates from the name "God our Lord." It refers to the Trinity, and we know from Ignatius's "autobiography" or Reminiscences~ what great devotion he felt when praying to the Blessed Trinity, often,.with prayers and sobs (Rent §28). If this happened when he saw three keys on a keyboard, what might he have experienced before the triad of praise, reverence, and service of God? What Ignatius does not say here is revealed in the poetry of a mystical experience at Manresa. There is only one way he looks upon the gift of creation: "Once the way in which God had created the world was repre-sented in his understanding, with great spiritual joy: it seemed to him he was seeing a white thing, from which some rays were coming out, and that God was making light out of it" (Rent §29). He also saw "with his interior eyes some things like white rays which were coming from above as the body of the Lord was being raised at Mass" (Rent §29). How Jesus Christ is present in creation is how he is present in the Eucharist. The One who alone can praise, rever-ence, and serve the eternal Father is Creator and Lord (§5). Annotation 5 was traditionally given along with the Principle and Foundation at the beginning of the retreat, and so the glory of Jesus, Creator and Lord, pervades the Principle and Foundation. How appropri-ate that Ignatius would tap our generosity and openness at the beginning of retreat by having us offer our desires and liberty to our Creator and Lord! 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say When Ignatius first arrived at the Benedictine Abbey of Montserrat, he made a general confession that lasted three days. Just how long was his list of sins? If one thing stands out in the First Week, it is the repeated reference to many sins: "How many times I deserved to be damned forever on account of my many sins" (§48). "Numberless other people have gone to hell for fewer sins than I have committed" (§52). "I look at myself. the source of many sins and evils" (§58). Rather than making a theological statement about sin, Ignatius seems to be pointing to his own spiritual journey, without actually saying so. So aware of the mal-ice of sin, he cannot but put into stark language the hor-ror of even one grave sin against one's Creator and Lord. M1 the while, Ignatius never loses sight of God's power, justice, wisdom, and goodness (§59). Suddenly we have a picture of Ignatius hugging himself in sheer wonder and joy before the whole range of created beings. Who are we, prayed over by angels and saints? Who are we, kept alive by earth and sky, stars and sun and moon and " the animal kingdom? (§60). What to do but talk to our Creator and Lord about mercy, and thank God for giv-ing us life to this very moment. When Ignatius left Montserrat after making a gen-eral confession, little did he realize that his own First Week was just beginning. Manresa was not in his plans, but it surely was in God's. There in Manresa the chiv-alrous ex-knight had to be knocked down by scruples. Slowly and painfully he had to learn he was no lon-ger in charge of anything, not even his own sinfulness. Instead of feeling duty-bound to keep on confessing his sins, he had to leave them to God. We can only wonder how many times Ignatius felt that the Lord "willed that he wake up as if from sleep," ever so slowly learning Review for Religious "the difference in kind of spirits through the lessons God had given him," so that at last "he decided, with great clarity, not to confess anything from the past any more. Thus from that day onward he remained free of those scruples, holding it for certain that our Lord in his mercy had willed to liberate him" (Rein §25). "As if from sleep" aptly describes Ignatius recu-perating from the wounds of Pamplona in his home at Loyola. He was given over to daydreaming. Tales of chivalry would foster his fantasies, but the only books available to him were Ludolph the Carthusian's Life of Christ and Jacobus de Voragine's account of lives of the saints. For the first time, in the Flos Sanctorum (or Golden Legend), Ignatius read about the knights of God who did great deeds in the service of the eter-nal Prince, Christ Jesus. Ignatius, it seems, woke up to hear the call of the eternal Lord and King of all people everywhere. Seeing "with the eyes of the imagination the synagogues, towns, and villages where Christ our Lord went preaching" (§91) leads us to see our world here and now immediately present to the risen Lord Jesus calling each of us in particular. The geography of the Kingdom goes from the Holy Land to the world at large and ends up "before your infinite Goodness, and before your glorious Mother and all the saintly men and women of the court of heaven" (§98). The grace not to be deaf to his call is an enormous grace. Summoned to know, love, and follow Jesus of Nazareth means a life-time journey that includes being with Jesus suffering and dying, rising and ascending. The desire to distinguish oneself in loyal dedica-tion is itself a grace. But where does such a desire come from? Before the Kingdom meditation, the last use of the phrase "infinite Goodness" was in the context of sin: the 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say Ignatius does not e~cpect that this offering of oneself will happen right away. horror of sinning "against the infinite Goodness" (§52). Here we find "before your infinite Goodness." The Lord's favor and help are clearly at work in the prayer of oblation (§98). Surely Ignatius himself is among those who desire to distinguish themselves, though he does not say this. David Fleming captures the energy and emotion of the prayer: "Those who are of great heart and are on fire with zeal to follow Jesus" (~97).3 Of course, Ignatius does not expect that this offer-ing of oneself will happen right away, or even in the same words. What is of great moment is the coming together of desire, feel-ing, and imagination, radiating in some myste-rious way the glory of the risen Jesus. Imagine the change of feeling from having sinned against infi-nite Goodness to having a ~ heart on fire with zealous . desires and seeing in faith the Mother of Jesus in glory along with all the saints waiting to hear what I want to say. Among the saints that Ignatius read about at Loyola was St. Ignatius, bishop of Antioch. The account of his life opens: "The name Ignatius comes from the Latin ignem patiens, which means being on fire with love of God.''4 For Ignatius of Loyola ignem patiens describes the Second, Third, and Fourth Weeks of the Exercises. In contemplating the mysteries of Jesus' life, I am reminded of the Song of Songs: "How right it is to love you" (Sg 1:4). Such assurance is the fruit of inte-rior knowing nourished and fed by desire, feeling, and imagination. In the Second Week the fifth of each day's Review for Religious prayer periods highlights the imagination. In the prayer of the senses, we are to imagine what the three Divine Persons are saying, what our Lady is saying to her new-born at his birth (§123). In this way we are further drawn into their pres-ences, where we may pause to imagine what we could say to the Holy Trinity, or to the Mother of Jesus, or to the Newborn. During the retreat we speak from different positions, whether as friend, servant, or sin-ner (§54), not to mention as child, as beloved, and so forth. In our prayer of the senses and in the colloquies we make, an oral history is taking shape. The same is true of repetitions. In contrast to all that Ignatius says about preparation for prayer, along with detailed aids to prayer, he has very little to say about the repetitions. He clearly expects, however, that something will happen. These are his words: After the preparatory prayer and two preambles, repeat the First and Second Exercises, noting and dwelling upon the points where I have felt greater consolation or desolation or greater spiritual relish. (§62) After the preparatory prayer and the three pre-ambles, the repetitions of Exercises 1 and 2 will be made, attention always being given to any more important places where one has experienced new insight, consolation, or desolation. (§ 118) Two repetitions will be made on the First and Second Contemplations at the times of Mass and Vespers. (§204) Listening to the "sounds" of movements is at the heart of repetition. The peace and quiet that flow from a sense of being so loved by God is like hearing water falling upon a sponge; agitation, disturbance, any resistance to God is like hearing water fall upon a stone (§335). In the meditation on the Two Standards, Ignatius has 69.1 2010 Hamel * Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say a great deal to say and little is left to the imagination. Lucifer is described as "sitting on a throne of fire and smoke in Babylon, while in a great plain of the region of Jerusalem stands Christ our Lord, his appearance comely and gracious" (§§138, 140, 144), who "selects apostles, disciples, etc. and sends them out over the world spreading his sacred doctrine" (§145). Christ our Lord, leader of all good, draws us to spiritual poverty and to the surprising joy of being chosen to imitate his humility and so to come to know the true life. In the first contemplation of the Second Week, a battle was already alluded to with people living in great blindness, wounding, killing, and going to hell, etc. (§106). The enemy of human nature is clearly at work sending demons to every region of the world to get peo-ple to crave riches and honors, thereby ending up with swollen pride. In contrast are the goodness of spiritual and actual poverty and the consolation of being allowed to share in the insults and rejection that Christ suffered. Could it be that here is the seed of the Suscipe prayer? When growing up in Nazareth, did Jesus himself begin to pray the Suscipe and Ignatius heard it? May we imag-ine the Suscipe becoming the song of the beloved dis-ciples when they are fishing on the Sea of Galilee, or all the more when they are sent out to preach? (§281.3). They were to travel without gold or silver, and Ignatius adds the abbreviation "etc." (Versio Prima text). It is noteworthy that "etc." occurs over forty times in the Exercises, chiefly in the Vulgate text, and thirteen times in the Reminiscences. The et cetera's in the Exercises may be nothing more than space savers. They might, however, also be an invitation to complete a thought, a sentence, or a scriptural quotation. In the opening days of the Second Week, the autograph text mentions "etc." Review for Religious twice, while in the Vulgate text it occurs fourteen times. "The Blessed Virgin burst with joy in this canticle: 'My soul magnifies the Lord, etc.'" (§263). It would seem that we are being invited to complete her canticle. At the birth of Jesus "all of a sudden a multitude of the celestial militia joined the angel, praising God and saying: 'Glory to God in the highest, etc.'" (§264). The words "and on earth peace among those whom he favors" are left to us to sing, all the while imagining ourselves as poor servants waiting on Mary and Joseph. Another unnamed angel comes to the shepherds nearby: "I announce to you a great joy, etc. Today a Savior is born for you, etc. After their visit they returned, 'giv-ing glory and praise to God, etc.'" (§265). Later, in the temple, Simeon took the child in his arms, blessed God, and said, "Now, Lord, let your servant go, etc." (§268). As we complete his Nunc Dimittis, are we holding the Child? Later still, after the unexpected night journey, etc., into Egypt, the Holy Family is back in Nazareth, where the Child grows in wisdom, age, and grace etc. (§271). These texts, replete with et cetera's, nourish our desires, feelings, and imagination in reflecting upon the mysteries of Jesus' early life. During all those years at Nazareth, I wonder if Jesus ever climbed Mount Tabor, which is fairly close by. There came a day on that mountain when Jesus was transfigured in the presence of his three dearest dis-ciples, Peter, James, and John. Upon hearing a resound-ing voice from heaven announcing "This is my beloved Son, etc., listen to him," they were frightened and fell to the ground, but Jesus came and touched them. He said, "Get up and be not afraid, etc." (§284). Why would the beloved disciples fear the Father's voice of intimacy? How many books have been written about the fear of 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say Is it by mere chance that comes immediately after "be not afraid"? Ignatius leaVes that to us. God? Is it by mere chance that "etc." comes immedi-ately after "be not afraid"? Ignatius leaves that to us. In the Third Week, Ignatius focuses more on Christ our Lord's interior sufferings than on his external suf-ferings. In this way he simply allows the Gospel nar-ratives to speak for themselves as we strive to remain at Jesus' side every step of the way, imagining what he might be saying to his Father. On the first day of the Third Week, Ignatius wants us to nttice whether the road from Bethany to Jerusalem is "broad or narrow, level, etc.," and similarly to notice the place of the sup-per (§192). On the morning of the same first day, Ignatius again considers the road from the place of the supper, Mount Zion, to the valley of Josaphat, "and also the garden, whether - - -- wide, whether long, whether of one form or another" (§202). "With the eyes of the imagination" he sees the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem, its length, whether flat or through valleys or over hills; and also the place of the grotto of the nativ-ity, how big or small, how high, and what is in it (~112). Roads, of course, lead to a place, like the grotto or the garden or the upper room. One would expect, then, another consideration regarding the length and breadth of the Via Dolorosa, but that is left to our imagination. We are even encouraged to imagine ourselves seeing Jesus eating with his disciples (while we eat, §214), and this is the event that opens the Third Week. Jesus says, Review for Religious "Take and eat, etc." (~289). His supreme sign of love in the Eucharist creates the church community. "Take and eat" will be heard until the end of time. Nothing is spared in asking for the grace proper to the Passion. From grief, brokenness, and tears to this interior suffering, how he suffers for my sins, etc. (§197). This particular "etc." lifts us into Jesus' heart, where we are reminded that his "labors, weariness, and grief began at the moment of his birth" (§206, re Addition 6, §78). Once the Lord is put in bonds, his name is only Jesus, as in his early life. From then on, Jesus is silent until he speaks from the cross. Through all his silences we may imagine what he was saying to his Father and in turn what we want to say to his Mother, to him, and to the Father in the triple colloquies. From house to house Jesus is led back and forth. It seems worthy of note that the Third Week does not end at the tomb of our Lord's burial but at the house where our Lady went. The seventh day of the Third Week is spent with our Lady in her loneliness and grief, and, on the other hand, on recalling the bitter loneliness of the dis-ciples (§208, 7th day). There is no scriptural reference to our Lady's loneliness and grief, and when the risen Christ appears to his Mother there is no mention of the doors of her house being closed. Oral tradition, not Scripture, supports the Lord's appearance to her. She is the perfect instance of our Creator and Lord communicating himself to a faithful soul, "inflaming her in his love" (§ 15, reading abrasdndola for abrazdndola). Curiously enough, for those who may doubt, Ignatius quotes a line of Scripture: "Are you also without understanding?" (Mt 15:16). After we have spent a whole day with our Lady in her loneliness, what can compare with experiencing her exultation upon meeting her Son risen from the 69.1 2010 Hamel * Discovering What Ignatius Does Not Say tomb? His appearing to her is the first of many appear-ances. Ignatius seems to delight in recounting every single appearance of the risen Christ, just as he seems to relish seeing us present to our Lady's great gladness and rejoicing over our Lord's glory and joy (§221). Her house is transformed, her oratory is the new sanctuary of an infant church, of which she is the sign. The Holy Spirit is newly present in these Fourth Week mysteries. The disciples are given the Holy Spirit. Jesus has said to them: "Receive the Holy Spirit; whose sins you will remit, they are remitted, etc." (§304.3, Vulgate text). The infant church itself is in need of reconciliation in the person of the apostle Thomas. It happens on the eighth day of the resurrection. Cyril of Alexandria writes: "With good reason we are accustomed to having sacred meetings in churches on the eighth day" (Commentary on the Gospel of John). The church proclaims, "When we eat this bread and drink this cup we proclaim your death, Lord Jesus, until you come in glory." The apostle Thomas, who all too keenly experienced the death of his Master, has to wait until he comes in the glory of his wounds. So Jesus says to him, "Put your .finger here and see etc., and be not unbelieving but believing" (§305.2, Versio Prima text). Christ the Lord .is living within his new church when he appears to Thomas and to ourselves in our unbelief before the mystery of the resurrection. Christ lives on in his church, appearing again to Thomas and six other disciples on the shore of Lake Tiberius. He is Lord of the sea as well as Lord of the Sabbath when he brings about a huge catch of fish. Who counted all 153 of them? Of the fish they had just caught, Jesus "gave them some bread and fish, etc. (§306.3, Vulgate text). Did Jesus first bless the bread, Review for Religious then break it? And were there leftovers? After the hot breakfast, there is one more catch: three times Jesus asks Peter "Do you love me?" and each time tells him to feed his sheep. Jesus commissions his new church to feed his flock, chiefly with the Eucharist. To hear Thomas's confession "My Lord and my God," to hear Peter's confession "Lord, you know all things, you know that I love you," to hear the Lord of Mount Tabor say "Go and teach all peoples" (§307): this is already to hear the Suscipe being sung. Do we hear Mary, Mother of the risen Lord, Mary Magdalene, the other Marys, the couple on their way to Emmaus, the fishermen of Tiberius, other disciples behind closed doors, the five hundred brethren together, St. James, Joseph of Arimathea, and St. Paul all singing the Suscipe? Is that not one of the ways friends experience consolation, including Jesus himself, who is the glory and generosity of the Father? With what affection and with what great love may we hear him say: "All that I have and possess you gave it all to me; to you, Father, I give it all back" (§234). The great joys of gratitude are all found in the Suscipe. With what great desires would God our Lord, the angels, and the saints want to hear us repeat the Suscipe? Participating in this prayer may fittingly be one of the "holy effects of the most holy resurrection" (§223). The Suscipe may not even be the last word. Ignatius leaves it to our creativity to consider some other way of thanksgiving that we feel to be better (§235). And what we may feel to be a better gift can only be due to God at work giving being, conserving life, granting growth and feeling, etc. (§236). "For it is not much knowledge but the inner feeling and relish of things that fills and satisfies the soul" (§2). Ignatius 69.1 2010 Hamel ¯ Discovering Wbat Ignatius Does Not Say was fond of concluding his letters by saying: "May His perfect grace be granted to all of us always to feel and fully accomplish His most holy will.''5 Although love is shown more in deeds than in words, Ignatius for his part is more wordy than usual in the Contemplation to Arrive at Love (§230). His words seem to carry the weight of deeds. This is evident in the first point of the Contemplatio where Ignatius refers to "particular gifts" (§234). Naturally these particular gifts are individual and personal; and yet, without say-ing so, it appears likely that Ignatius had in mind "the true bride of Christ our Lord, our holy mother, the hierarchical church" (§353), which--like our Lady as the new temple of the Lord's dwelling--humbly gives thanks to the Divine Majesty (§108). A vision of church rather than of the individual arises in the fourth point of the Contemplatio. The church's power, her goodness, her sense of justice, piety, mercy, etc. reflect the supreme and infinite power, goodness, justice, loving kindness, and mercy of her Lord and eternal King (§237). I am reminded that, when Ignatius traveled to the Holy Land, he did not have time to see Nazareth, watch sun-beams sparkle across the Sea of Galilee, or climb Mount Tabor. But he did see these holy places in his imagination, where his desires and dreams appeared. Later in Rome, seeing Christ "like a sun" as he had in Manresa (Rein §99), he saw the pilgrim church of the disciples go forth and teach all people, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (§307). Likewise it is the story of Jesus that invites, challenges, and informs our ser-vice in the world. It is not by accident that the majority of Ignatius's et cetera's follow upon a biblical text. Just as the Scriptures never come to an end, there is no last medita-tion or contemplation in the Spiritual Exercises. Review for Religious Ignatius says goodbye to retreatants (as directors do), but seeking and finding seem to become a never ending duet. There is no final step, nor does the music have any final note. Providence goes on giving birth to God's deeper presence within us and even to our pres-ence to ourselves. As Karl Rahner wrote, "God speaks us to ourselves.''6 In some analogous fashion, is this not what Ignatius also does? As we make the Exercises, per-haps Ignatius is speaking each of us as their author. Notes ~ Saint Ignatius of Loyola, Personal Writings: Reminiscences, Spiritual Diary, Select Letters, including the text of The Spiritual Exercises, ed. and trans. Joseph Munitiz and Philip Endean (London: Penguin Books, 1996), §2. Hereafter I will refer to the Exercises by giving the paragraph number in parentheses. ~ Reminiscences, §28. Hereafter I will refer to this text with Rein and the paragraph number in parentheses. 3 David L. Fleming SJ, Draw Me into Your Friendship: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading of the Spiritual Exercises (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 87, §97. 4 Jacobus de Voragine, The Golden Legend: Readings on the Saints, 2 vols., trans. William Granger Ryan (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993), I:140. 5 Personal Writings, Select Letters #38, p. 275. 6 Harvey Egan SJ, Karl Rabner: Mystic of Everyday Life (New York: Crossroad Publishing Co., 1998), p. 84. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection Hamel points out that the Ignatian Exercises in their language structure call for the retreatant's involve-ment. As you have experience retreats, have you felt the freedom to follow the promptings of God's grace? 4Y 69.1 2010 Hamel * Discovering Wlzat Ignatius Does Not Say 2. Can you give some examples of certain scripture passages that continue to open up new meanings .and insights for you? Transformation Behold the glory of a rose. All it has to do is be. From tightly closed bud to emerging blossom to exquisite flower - it happens so slowly that very few notice. The gentle rain, the warming sun, the nurturing soil - all contribute to the life within. Holy Spirit, the power of your love is my source of transformation. All I have to do is be in You. Mary Frances Herkender SND 46 Review for Religious LOUIS M. SAVARY Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation at Ignatius is primarily trying to do in the ¯ ¯ Kingdom meditation, and many miss the point, is to create a major shift in the retreatant's mind. The shift is necessary in order to have a proper mindset for the Second Week of the Exercises. It is a mindset quite different from that of the First Week. Theologically, it is a shift in how one sees one's purpose in life. The shift goes from simply seeking one's own salva-tion, which is probably the purpose of most believers, to committing oneself to a divine project on Earth. Ignatius has Christ refer to the divine project as "the work" (SpEx §96). In committing to this work, one's attention and energy shift from personal salvation to involvement in the divine project. For the retreatant, this shift is from avoiding sin and getting to heaven to a new goal: accepting responsibility for helping change the human face of the earth.1 Louis M. Savary has given many lectures, workshops, and classes on the spirituality of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. His address is 3404 Ellenwood Lane; Tampa, Florida 33618. 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation After the retreatants' First Week preoccupation with Christ's forgiving their sins and enabling their salvation, the Kingdom meditation may come as a surprise--when its meaning dawns on them. It presents retreatants with a new and grand "horizon," as the Jesuit philosopher Bernard Lonergan might describe it. Their attention expands from a narrow spotlight on their personal life to a horizon as big as the world. In this meditation Ignatius wants retreatants to begin thinking globally, looking toward "a much larger horizon than they had been living within" during the First Week.2 The Divine Project Christ's project, as we read in Ignatius's Kingdom text, involves nothing less than transforming the "whole world." It will certainly call for hard work ("share the labor with me"), and will require great generosity of ser-vice ("make offerings of greater worth and moment").3 Ignatius wants retreatants to recognize that in this medi-tation Jesus is inviting them to join him in a special proj-ect, initiated by God, which is so important that it needed God's own Son to reveal it clearly and accurately.4 Many ordinary Christians, those who try merely to save their own souls, fail to hear this call. Ignatius hopes to find "worthy knights" who hear Jesus' call to establish the reign of God on earth and who want to work with others to make it happen. He recommends that the one giving the Exercises be sure that the retreatant is ready to hear this call and has the generosity to respond to it.5 Jesus, in the Ignatian text, is clearly.proposing and working toward a historical result. His project has to do with what we humans, with his help, are meant to accomplish here and now for a better planetary future. It has to do with changing history and how people live Review for Religious and interact on earth. The project is far bigger than simply baptizing as many people as possible. As the hymn to the Holy Spirit puts it, humanity's true pur-pose with the Spirit's help is to "renew the face of the earth." It is a project that goes far beyond keeping the commandments and avoiding sin. In this meditation we enter into Jesus' vision and dream for humanity. Joseph Tetlow says Ignatius wants you to "feel the excitement of a call to transcend everyday concerns.''6 A New Purpose in Life Most people live their entire lives concerned about food, shelter, and clothing. They may think about the future, but mostly about everyday concerns. Their life purpose is to take care of daily wants and needs--food, grooming, safety, security, accep-tance, approval, belong-ing, esteem, and personal development. They see no '4' larger horizon than that. Speaking of everyday concerns, Jesus said, "All these things the pagans seek." He adds, "Your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides" (Mt 6:32-33). Jesus calls his hearers to a new life purpose: finding out what the worldwide kingdom project wants from you ("seek first the kingdom of God"), carrying it out, and letting God take care of the rest. This worldwide transformation, the divine project, begins in individuals with a special kind of repentance, Repentance in this context " much closer to a change :" lifepurpose, 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation a change of heart, which is quite different from sorrow for sin. Repentance in this context is much closer to a change in life purpose. "Repent for the reign of God is among you.''7 Most Christians do not really spend much time meditating on this simple, foundational statement. When understood, it calls for a new way of looking at ourselves, the human family, and all of creation; it means establishing the reign of God. Individually, the "work" calls for a change in mind-set because it requires people to begin thinking about transforming all of humanity and the planet rather than simply saving their own soul. It also calls for a conver-sion of heart because Jesus asks us to love all people and to accept responsibility for everyone, rather than limiting our responsibility to our own life and immediate family. Instead of merely waiting for the gift of salvation from God on high, Ignatius hears in the call of Christ an invita-tion to shoulder the creative responsibility of "living for others."8 Instead of the abstract virtues or commandments required for salvation, Jesus emphasizes the practical contributions each person's talents and abilities can bring to this divine project on earth. Once we under-stand Christ's divine project, says Tetlow, "each of us, with God, must create our own response.''9 Jesus in his teachings and miracles is announcing what Juan Luis Segundo calls a "project-Christology" that is "centered around the reign of God on earth.''I° In the light of this project, we each have a destiny, a part, that we alone can fulfill. Love Is Central in God's Plan Jesus reveals that God is unconditional love and that this love is active and plan-centered. In other words, Revie~v for Religious God's love is not just responsive to individual and col-lective human needs as they happen to occur; it is also forward looking, proactive, and evolutionary. God has had a loving plan for his creation since the beginning. It was enunciated by Christ. It is spelled out in Jesus' teachings, and it is all about love. Psychologically, we know that love blossoms and matures where the lovers have a shared project and a shared dedication to it. We are invited--no, com-manded- by Jesus to love one another. We may be invited to join the ranks of the "knights" who follow Jesus, but once we join we are commanded to love one another. Nothing less than unconditional love for all humans and all of creation will suffice. The love Jesus (and Ignatius) is talking about is no infatuation or emo-tional attachment. It is a mature love that thrives on sharing the responsibility for a project--"that they may be one as you, Father, and I are one" (Jn 17:20-23).13 Each individual is called to become God's coworker (synergos in Greek; see 1 Co 3:8-9, 21-23) in establish-ing God's reign on earth. Kingdom as Reign Many scripture scholars emphasize this Christological project by suggesting that Jesus' use of the word "king-dom" is less about physical boundaries and more about God's reigning. To reign is to do something. When you talk about a king "reigning," you are referring to his plans for the future of his people and the ways he wants his wishes to be carried out. Such reigning includes the effective fulfillment of the king's will in the structures of society under his charge. It means carrying out the king's program or "standard.''~ As the divine "stan-dards" (such as the beatitudes) become more and more 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius'~ Kingdom Meditation established on earth, there will be ever-increasing love. From this will follow conditions of freedom, justice, equality, peace, and so forth for all human beings and respect for all creation. So, in this meditation, when people think the call of the temporal king (to conquer infidel lands) applies directly to the call of the divine King, they need to note that Ignatius's words refer to a conquest, not by the sword, but by covering the planet with people full of unconditional love. It is only love that will conquer all. It is probably appropriate to say that the Kingdom med-itation is really a parable about the power and attraction of real love on the human heart, more than about kings and knights.12 An Evolutionary Viewpoint of the Kingdom Pierre Teilhard de Chardin reminds us that the divine project did not begin with Jesus' public ministry two thousand years ago. It started about fourteen bil-lion years ago at the Big Bang. Creation itself has been a book of divine revelation that we are just beginning to learn to read with the help of science. According to Teilhard, God implanted his love in every particle that burst forth at the first moment of creation. Everything that exists lives in what Teilhard calls a Divine Milieu of love, and this Divine Milieu is the Universal Body of Christ On 1:3). As St. Paul says, "In him we live and move and have our being" (Ac 17:28). In studying the evolution of the universe, Teilhard dis-covered a law that has been operative since the Big Bang. He called it the Law of Complexity-Consciousness.13 Expressed more completely, it is the Law of Attraction- Connection-Complexity-Consciousness.14 It asserts that the universe is not static or cyclical, but has always been Review for Reli~ous on the move. Furthermore, its evolutionary movement has a direction. From the beginning, it has been mov-ing toward higher levels of complexity and conscious-ness-- or to higher levels of interiority, if you wish. ~s In simple language, the law of attraction is at work everywhere. All units, from atomic particles up to human beings, are attracted to other units to form con-nections. In first-year chemistry class, you learned about the Table of Chemical Elements. These connections of subatomic particles that evolved over time are listed on the Table from the simplest to the most complex. Connections are, by definition, more complex than the elements that make them up. Vvnnen evolution is looked at over eons, it is clear that this law of attraction-connection-complexity has been at work, especially on our planet, in generating forms of life. After about a billion years of trying, Earth finally evolved single-celled creatures. And over another billion years the continually evolving Earth gave birth to life forms with increasing complexity--insects, plants, trees, flowers, fish, reptiles, birds, mammals. Consciousness and awareness appeared and increased. Starting about a hundred thousand years ago, the Law of Attraction-Connection-Complexity-Consciousness generated not only human beings on Earth, but also societies, cultures, arts, and sciences. For Teilhard, this Law is universal. It applies not only to biology, but to all levels of existence. Over many millennia, psychologi-cal, social, and cultural evolution has been happening and keeps happening, following that same divine law. As Henry Kenney puts it, for Teilhard "there is only one cosmically integrated evolution. Physical and social evolution are an essential part of this one evolution.''~6 Can this understanding of evolution help us to 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation understand the divine project? If that general law of divine love that Teilhard discovered studying the book of creation is accurate, then it is clear how we can foster the divine project. We simply follow the universal evo-lutionary law. We do it, first, by making ourselves attrac-tive for more connections and relationships. Second, we welcome connections and the complexity they bring to our lives. Third, the struggle to live lovingly in that complexity will bring us, fourth, to greater consciousness of who we are, who we are meant to become, and how we can respond to the call of Christ. Teilhard's law does not contradict any of the laws Christ gave; it merely applies them more broadly in our scientific world. For example, it allows people to see in their professions and careers how their work contributes to the divine project and promotes the reign of God. Kingdom and Cosmos God's divine Word has been breathing into the universe the divine creative Spirit for almost fourteen billion years. During all these eons, God's wisdom has been watching creation grow and evolve in complexity and consciousness. This ever-expanding cosmos, which God loved so much that he sent his only Son to become one with it and to show us that love, must be a special part of the Kingdom of God. This evolving cosmos is the original and continual blessing God has been giv-ing to us since the Big Bang. God has been waiting for us to emerge from within it and become conscious of its almost infinite temporal stretch of divine revelation and blessing--and become conscious of the divine law of love that Teilhard identified. God not only has immersed us and all of creation in this Divine Milieu, but also has written upon our hearts Review for Religious the desire to know, love, and care for the cosmos (and everything in it)--as God knows, loves, and cares for it. To do this with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength is to love as God loves. To learn to love God passion-ately, we must learn to love the cosmos passionately.~7 With the incarnation, God has doubly sanctified this cosmos. Not only is the cosmos one single immense entity beloved of God and living in the Divine Milieu; it is also, in Christian lan-guage, living within God's own Son, as part of his Body, the Total Christ. All of creation lives and moves and has its being in this Universal Christ. With these ideas Teilhard introduces us to an evolutionary way of under-standing the Kingdom meditation. ' :With the incarnation, Godhas doubly sanctified 'i this cosmos. A Prelude to the Kingdom Meditation A quotation from the jacket of a recent book may best provide an Ignatian "history" prelude a for new century's Kingdom meditation: The dawn of the twenty-first century has witnessed two remarkable developments in our history: the appearance of systemic problems that are genu-inely global in scope, and the growth of a worldwide movement that is determined to heal the wounds of the earth with the force of passion, dedication, and collective intelligence and wisdom. Across the planet groups ranging from ad-hoc neighborhood associa-tions to well-funded international organizations are confronting issues like the destruction of the envi-ronment, the abuses of free-market fundamentalism, social justice, and the loss of indigenous cultures. They share no orthodoxy or unifying ideology; they 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation follow no single charismatic leader; they remain sup-ple enough to coalesce easily into larger networks to achieve their goals. While they are mosdy unrecog-nized by politicians and the media, they are bringing about what may one day be judged the single most profound transformation of human society.18 According to the author of that book, Paul Hawken, there are at least two million organizations worldwide working toward ecological sustainability and social jus-tice. This vast collection of committed individuals does not constitute a traditional "movement," nor does it have one charismatic person inspiring or directing it. It is a global, leaderless conglomerate that reaches every corner of the world. Hawken says it is "dispersed, incho-ate, and fiercely independent. It has no shared manifesto or common doctrine, no overriding authority to check with.''~9 It is taking shape, however, in schoolrooms, farms, jungles, villages, companies, deserts, fisheries, slums, and hotel rooms. From an evolutionary perspective, the movement is the most complex collection of human beings ever assem-bled. Most people know only the organization or two they chose to link with, but the movement's overall global database is mammoth. This collection of organizations is tackling issue~ that governments are failing to face: energy, jobs, conservation, poverty, and global warming. Its function as a coherent system is mysterious. Compelling, coherent, innovative, organic, self-organized congregations involving tens of millions of people are dedicated to change. "What I see," says Hawken, "are ordinary and some not-so-ordinary indi-viduals willing to confront despair, power, and incalcu-lable odds in an attempt to restore some semblance of grace, justice, and beauty to this world.''z° According Review for Religious to Hawken, while in the past most people filed griev-ances only with respect to themselves, this new move-ment involves millions of people working altruistically on behalf of strangers. Individually and together they think and speak for the planet. For them, healing the wounds of the earth in this way is a sacred act. This unnamed movement is a healing life force striv-ing for social justice and planetary welfare under and through and around national boundaries. All these small and large groups are intertwining, creating worldwide a web of relationships that are increasingly conducive to life. Perhaps this perspective can serve the Kingdom meditation. An Evolutionary Kingdom Meditation Part One: Ten Thousand Earthly Leaders First Point. Perhaps, instead of an earthly king, Teilhard might ask us to imagine ten thousand leaders spread all over the cities and villages of the earth, people of all races and classes, of all religions and no religion, young and old, rich and poor, in storefronts and board-rooms, in homes and churches, in classrooms and picket lines, in jungles and around campfires, in laboratories and offices. These leaders represent ten thousand dif-ferent groups, all rising above their daily difficulties, finding ten thousand different ways to improve the earth and the beings on it. These "activist" groups are committed to bringing human rights to all. They con-front local injustice or seek multinational solutions to world hunger and poverty. Scientists seek new drugs to alleviate suffering. Authors and journalists suggest solu-tions to local and world problems. Educators concern themselves with literacy and other areas of knowledge. Some people try to solve employment problems. Some 69.1 2010 Savary * Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation address ecological concerns. Some are philosophers and theologians, some are concerned parents. Some people have dedicated their lives to meditation and to prayer for world peace, for an end to war and terrorism. Every field or life path you can imagine is represented by these ten thousand leaders. Second Point. Imagine yourself standing in this crowd, not knowing where to turn or whom to speak with, and one or two of these leaders approach you. You discover they are persons just like you working in the same area of interest. They describe their work and their aim to improve the lives of others in their circle of influence. You feel their excitement and enthusiasm. It is contagious. They may even suggest ways that you could uniquely help them pursue their purpose. Other leaders are approaching other persons like you who have found their way here. In stages-of-consciousness language, these leaders would be encouraging people to grow beyond their egocentric and ethnocentric stages of development and commit themselves to anthropocentric and geocentric mindsets.21 Anyone failing to support and find a way to actively participate in one or more of these programs might be considered an unworthy or unconscious citi-zen of the earth. Part Two: The Universal Christ While you imagine yourself still standing amid these ten thousand leaders, you can imagine Christ speaking to you as a voice heard in your heart: You see all these people representing thousands of small-to-large organizations worldwide, each doing its own small part to transform the world. They and all their groups live and move and have their being in me. They were meant to come into being and work Review for Religious in peaceful and loving concern for the betterment of all. Each small and large group has been part of the Creator's plan and vision from the beginning of time. That vision is to bring all creation together in one supreme loving union. These people love Earth and all of creation. I invite you to find the individuals and groups that you are most attracted to and most qualified to help, and commit yourself to supporting them. For we all have a long evolutionary way to go to fulfill the Creator's plan. When you hear these leaders speaking to you, realize that it is I speaking to you. When you work with them, realize that it is I working with you, alongside you. Those who want to be more devoted and signalize themselves in service of the Body of Christ will not only offer their persons to the labor required for the Creator's project, but will also make offerings of greater value 'and greater importance, saying:22 Eternal Creator of all things, I make my oblation with your favor and help, in the presence of your divine Son and in the presence of our compassionate Mother and all the saints of heaven: I want and desire, and it is nay deliberate choice and determination, with all my heart and mind and soul and strength, to be an instrument of your love and healing in the world. I beg for energy and clarity,23 so that I will contribute in all the ways I can, whatever the cost, to building up the Universal Body of your divine Son on earth as long as I live. Summing Up and Going Forward The job of achieving world peace and justice in today's world is too big for any one person or orga-nization. It is the work of thousands of organizations and individuals worldwide, rich and poor, cooperating in achieving a world at peace and an environment, a milieu, where life can be safe.24 69,1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation Teilhard offers us a fuller picture of the "work" of God's reign. It integrates fourteen billion years of divine revelation that science is teaching us how to read. In the Law of Attraction-Connection-Complexity- Consciousness, he offers people in every walk of life specific ways of cooperating in the evolving divine plan. He shows how the global humanitarian movements coming up everywhere are organically inspired by the Divine Milieu. They represent an instinctive collective response of the human spirit, inspired by God, to many different needs and challenges around the planet. What these people and groups are in effect telling us, perhaps still unconscious of what they are saying, is that the Body of Christ is alive and well in our day.25 Notes t George Aschenbrenner SJ points out that Ignatius uses words like "all" and "whole" to emphasize that this meditation takes retreatants beyond their individual selves. It is a call to universal salvation. See his Stretched for the Greater Glory (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2004), pp. 68 and 98. 2 Joseph A. Tetlow SJ, Ignatius Loyola: Spiritual Exercises (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. 90. 3 See Tetlow, Ignatius, pp. 95, 97. 4 See John 3:16-21. Jesus' project--actually it is the Father's project--encompasses the cosmos, the universe. It includes "living the truth" about creation--what it is and where it is going. s Tetlow, Ignatius, p. 90. "Ignatius would not continue an exerci-tant into the next three Weeks unless the exercitant had a great desire to go into them. That desire--to continue in the Spiritual Exercises a search for something more--itself comes as a gift from the Spirit of God." Aschenbrenner, Stretched, p. 66, makes the same point. 6 Tetlow, Ignatius, p. 91. Aschenbrenner, Stretched, pp. 66-68, sug-gests three prerequisites for truly grasping the call of the Kingdom. The first two are "a desire to know Jesus in your unique vocation" and "a capacity for intimacy." The third is "some personal lived expe-rience of the need for salvation and liberation in the social dimension of our world." Review for Religious 7 The theme of John the Baptist's preaching was "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand"; Jesus does not modify that message at all (Mr 3:2 & 4:17). John and Jesus are talking about the same divine project. Jesus merely enlarges upon it in his other sermons. s See Rm 14:7, 20-23; Mt 25:34-40. 9 Tetlow, Ignatius, p. 92. ,0 Juan Luis Segundo SJ, The Christ of the Ignatian Exercises (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1987), p. 96. ~ This seems to be Ignatius's intent in using the word "standard" in the Two Standards. His king's "standard" stands for his plan and its fulfillment. ,2 See Aschenbrenner, Stretched, pp. 66-67, 72-73. ,3 Pierre Teilhard de Chardin SJ, The Phenomenon of Man, 2nd ed. (New York: Harper & Row, 1965), p. 300. ,4 See Louis M. Savary, The Divine Milieu Explained (New York: Paulist Press, 2007), pp. 29-30. '~ See W. Henry Kenney SJ, A Path through Teilhard's Phenomenon (Dayton: Pflaum Press, 1970), pp. 60-64. 16 Kenney, Path, p. 70. ,7 While Aschenbrenner, Stretched, says the grace for this medita-tion is to "fall in love with Jesus" (p. 66), Teilhard would have you also ask for the grace to fall in love and become "intimate" with the cosmos. While Ignatius focuses on Christ of the Gospels, Teilhard focuses on the Cosmic Christ. ,8 Paul Hawken, Blessed Unrest: How the Largest Movement in the World Came into Being and Why No One Saw It Coming (New York: Viking, 2007). You may enjoy a short video: http://www.blessedun rest.com/video.html ,9 Hawken, Blessed, p. 3. 20 Hawken, Blessed, p. 4. 2, Here egocentric would imply caring only about my own salva-tion. An ethnocentric stage would imply putting a high value on pro-tecting and caring for my family, my tribe, my country, my race, my gender, my religion. The anthropocentric stage would mean desiring to protect and care for all human beings, seeing them as my brothers and sisters under God our Father. A fourth stage, geocentric, is emerg-ing around the planet; it means extending my care and concern to all living things. We all share one planet. 22 SpEx §98, adapted. Ignatius sometimes suggests specific col-loquies, but a colloquy must always come from each one's heart. 69.1 2010 Savary ¯ Revisiting St. Ignatius's Kingdom Meditation Aschenbrenner, Stretched, p. 74, says, "You must make the offering that is in your heart." He notes, though, that a major function of this colloquy is to lead the retreatant into the exercises of the Second Week. 23 VChile Ignatius suggests that the retreatant ask for "injury, affronts, and poverty," Teilhard feels that there will be plenty of unwanted "diminishments" to endure if one commits oneself with energy and clarity to the divine project of building the Body of Christ on Earth. See Teilhard's Divine Milieu (New York: Harper & Row, 1962, 1968), Section Two, "The Divinization of Our Passivities." 24 Ignatius does not identify the Kingdom with the Roman Catholic Church, but sees Christ's reign as including all people and all the world. Teilhard might say that Christ inspires everyone with the desire to promote the loving unity of all beings, but that many of us are not yet conscious of that desire, and that many of those who are conscious of it have not yet followed that desire. Evoking that commitment is the purpose of Ignatius's Kingdom meditation. 25 Hawken, Blessed, pp. 4-5, says: "We must also remember that humans are frail and imperfect. People are not always literate or educated. Most families in the world are impoverished and may suffer from chronic illnesses. The poor cannot always get the right foods for proper nutrition, and must struggle to feed and educate their young. If citizens with such burdens can rise above their quotidian difficulties and act with the clear intent to confront exploitation and bring about restoration, then something powerful is afoot. And it is not just the poor, but people of all races and classes everywhere in the world." Review for Religious ANN MARIE PAUL Gleanings from My First Ten Years It is still difficult for me to believe that the time passed so quickly. July 2009 marked ten years since I entered the Sisters of Christian Charity, and August 2009 saw the profession of my perpetual vows. Shortly before that, I was asked what advice I would give to those just starting out. Although fully cognizant that I s611 have much to learn, I came up with pieces of advice that were too numerous to count. After omitting many important items (includ-ing emptying trash cans and filling the car's gas tank), I have committed myself to the fol-lowing tidbits. Be grateful, no matter what. A few years ago I lived in a convent with a sister who was commemorating the 60th anniversary of her entrance into the community. I asked her, Ann Marie Paul SCC wrote as a novice an article we pub-lished in 2001. Her address is Divine Providence Hospital Convent; 1100 Grampian Boulevard; Williamsport, Pennsylvania 17701. from young and old 69.1 2010 Paul ¯ Gleanings from My First Ten Years "What do you have to say on this auspicious occasion?" Without skipping a beat, she answered, "Three words: Thank you, Jesus!" What a lesson for me and for all younger religious-- Be grateful, no matter what! Living community life calls for gratitude in abundance. The five convents where I lived during these ten years have provided numerous reasons for expressing gratitude. I am grateful for the welcome I received from the sisters and the guidance they gave me--everything from where to find extra toilet paper to how to persevere in living my vows. I am grate-ful for the extra effort these women expended not only in making me feel at home but also in making me who I am today. I am grateful for the way they live and love in community and the example they have been for me. But that is the easy part of thankfulness--being grateful to those who have loved you. The "no mat-ter what" enters in when we are grateful to those who have found it hard to love us or those we have found it hard to love. Remember that not everyone will find it easy to love you and you will not always find it easy to love everyone else. These are the people who will teach you the most about loving as Jesus loves. Be grateful to them, although it might take time and distance for this gratitude to manifest itself. Forgive early and often. Forgiveness, it has been said, is the scent that the rose leaves on the foot that crushes it. The scent we leave when we are "crushed" by or when we "crush" someone else is most important. No matter how Christlike you strive to be, you are human, and so are the people with whom you live. Your com-munity will never be perfect, and neither will you. You will make mistakes (~ometimes big mistakes), and so will they. Sometimes your mistakes will hurt people deeply. Re~iew for Religious Learn early to forgive yourself and others, and to ask for forgiveness frequendy and quickly, so that everyone comes up smelling like roses! It is not a mathematical coincidence that, when asked about how often we should forgive, Jesus says, "Not seven times, but seventy-seven times" (Mr 18:22), or "seven times in one day" (Lk 17:4). The number seven is symbolic of perfection or totality. So, when Jesus uses the number seven (or seventy-seven, for real emphasis), he is saying that our forgiveness should be limidess. That is a tall order, but one that is absolutely essential to living community life. Be the community you want to see. Mahatma Gandhi is widely quoted as having said, "Be the change you want to see." These words apply to many situations in diverse regions of the world, but they can apply just as easily to your situa-tion in your local com-munity. To be sure, at some point you will rea'ch the conclusion that your community does not live up to your not meet your needs, !:: f! st.a k yourself if you have :g!ven enough, of yourself yoUr:Community. expectations. Do not let your disillusionment get the best of you. If your community does not meet your needs, first ask yourself if you have given enough of yourself to your community. That is, have you been the community you wish to see? When I hear younger sisters complain about what their community does not do often enough (or does too often), I usually ask, "What have you attempted to initi- 69.1 2010 Paul ¯ Gleanings from My First Ten Years ate in your community recendy?" (In the interest of full disclosure, I have been asked that very question a few times, too.) If the answer revolves around waiting for an elusive "someone else" to initiate an elusive "something else," warning flags should go up. Such a complaint is rarely about "them"; it is usually about "me." Own these complaints and use them as springboards to action. Be as foolish as God. Whenever you make deci-sions, always choose the most loving thing. On the surface, this looks blatantly obvious for someone in religious life. However, if you had been responsible for making practical, efficient decisions before entering your community, you will have to reprogram yourself toward making loving decisions. This is not to say that religious life lacks practicality and efficiency; it simply means that what is practical is not always what is loving. Many times the loving choice will go against your culturally pro-grammed response toward practicality and efficiency. If you have trouble figuring out what the loving thing is, turn more deeply toward the Gospels. There we find a God who is foolish in the eyes of the world-- encouraging the payment of a full day's wages both to those who worked a full day and to those who worked only one hour; leaving ninety-nine sheep in the des-ert to search for one lost sheep; and welcoming back a repentant child who had left saying "I wish you were dead" with "Let's throw a party!" So, when you are given a choice, be as foolish as God. Try not to miss too many community meals. As you struggle to find and honor your own rhythm in religious life, be aware of the rhythm of.your commu-nity, especially as it pertains to meals. Because of various schedules and commitments, the community meal (and the accompanying preparation and cleanup) may be the Review for Religious only meaningful contact we have with each other as a community on some days. That is where the debrief-ing of the day occurs, where the stories are told, and where bonds of community are formed. When you miss too many community meals, you run the risk of losing touch with the rhythm of the community. So, if you have ministry commitments that prevent you from shar-ing the community meal on Monday and Wednesday, it is probably not a good idea to accept an invitation to dinner from a friend on Tuesday or Thursday of that same week. That would make it quite difficult for you to regain your place in the rhythm of the community. Be a servant. You entered religious life to serve, but you probably lacked an understanding of the precise types of service that would be required of you. Perhaps you had an idea of service as going out to the poor and doing wonderful things for God. While that is an admi-rable goal and one that you still hope to accomplish, the actual service we are asked to do rarely matches the enchanting stuff of our imaginations. John 13 tells us that, after Jesus has washed his dis-ciples' feet, he says "As I have done for you, you should also do." Note that Jesus does not say that his disciples should follow his example only when it is convenient or when they are not tired. He does not tell the disciples to think about it; he simply says "Do it." The example of Jesus' service should be foremost in our minds as we listen to a sister tell about her day when we would rather watch the evening news; car pool when we would rather drive alone; and' go to a community meeting when we would rather have a relaxing weekend. These are the times when our service, although less glamorous than we originally envisioned, answers the call that Jesus issued to his disciples shordy before he died. 69.1 2010 Paul * Gleanings from My First Ten Years If we do not take the time ~o let God in through attentive praye, r, we may block God from~ .~ ~ working through us, ~ 681 Pray, pray, pray. This is another piece of advice that seems fairly obvious for someone in religious life. However, as we leave the novitiate, we run the risk of our prayer life taking a back seat to all the other good things that we can choose to do. As we become busier with many things, we sometimes try to convince our-selves, "My work is my prayer." While our work--that is, what we do-- ~, certainly is prayer, prayer is also who we are. If we do not take the 6me to let God in through attentive prayer, we may block God from work-ing through us. We cannot give what we do not possess. My awkward translation of the advice of St. Francis de Sales on prayer goes something like this: "You should pray thirty minutes each day, except when you are very busy. Then you should pray for an hour." In our initial formation, we spend time praying, reading about prayer, and being taught many things about prayer. We have heard what some saints have said about prayer, and most likely we have studied what our founders said about it. In 1851 the founder of my com-munity, Pauline yon Mallinckrodt, said, "What water is to the fish, prayer is to the religious." On the surface, this is a nice saying about prayer. But looking more deeply gives us a much truer picture. Try to remember the last time you saw a live fish out of water. Maybe it was a goldfish as you cleaned the bowl or a larger fish you caught in a lake on vacation. Review for Religious Do you remember the desperate flailing and gasping of that fish? Now try to think of yourself without prayer as that fish. When you flail and gasp while living your religious life without prayer, it will become apparent to those around you and will quickly become an obstacle to living a meaningful life in community. Do whatever it takes to dive back into the "water" of prayer. Talk to your spiritual director, your soul friend, or any of the various support people available to you. But do not stay out of the water for so long that you cannot be revived. Remember that we are all in this together. Religious life is a wondrous journey filled with joy and sorrow, surprises and banality, times of deep joy and times of darkness. As in other walks of life and voca-tions, people will "wow" you and disappoint you; you will have times of complete connectedness and utter loneliness. Through it all, remember that you are part of a community of people called by God to follow Christ more closely in this particular way of life. Every mem-ber- from the one who most annoys you to the one you most admire--was called to your community by God at a particular time for a particular mission. Avoid wasting time questioning how God could have ever intended this seemingly motley group to do anything together, let alone live in community and witness to God's love. Instead, praise and thank God for the wondrous diver-sity in which you are privileged to participate, and think of all of these persons as doing their best. When you think you have had enough and cannot go on, remember what "the call" was like for you. Think about what it was like to say "Yes," no matter how long ago it was, and begin again to follow Jesus more closely. Ask others, if you are comfortable doing so, to share 69.1 2010 Paul ¯ Gleanings from My First Ten Years their stories with you. Shared vocation stories not only create unity, but they also give us the possibility of hav-ing something to whisper in each other's ears when our memories fade. What--and how often--we whisper is a testimony to our commitment to God and to each other. We are all in this together, and our communi-ties' futures depend on how well we witness this to each other and to those who seek to join us. Ten years have passed. That is a minuscule amount of time, given the years of service of most of the mem-bers of our communities. Every year of service, how-ever, consists of distinctive days, hours, and minutes in which we strive to live in grace-filled fidelity to our vows and trusting commitment to our religious community. Whether we have done this for one, ten, fifty, or eighty years, each day we have the responsibility of living in ways that bring ourselves, our community, all those we meet, and the entire church closer to God. Keeping the present moment--the dailyness--at the forefront of our prayer and consciousness aids us in doing God's will in our lives. The ideas I have shared above are, I think, some of the many things that, gathered together, can help us be who God calls us to be. Review for Religious MARY FRANCES COADY Monasteries of Meteora a n the chapel of St. Stephen's Monastery, set high mong the giant outcroppings of rock that stand before the Pindos Mountains in central Greece, the nuns' chanting of Vespers goes on and on as evening turns into night. Their voices, singing in a minor key of mournful solemnity, become a drone, the unfamiliar sounds an incantation. The nuns themselves, draped in black cloaks, their faces flamed with severe black bands, sit motionless or move about freely from one icon to another--strange, fearsome paintings of,Christ, Mary, and various saints--across the top of the chapel. Lighted candles hang from brass chains. There is no other light--only shadow, and black figures moving, and incense hanging sweet and thick in the air, and a heavy feeling of enclosure. Sleep begins to overtake me, despite the discomfort of the hard benches we are sitting on. To shake myself awake, I shift my body and cross my legs. Immediately a nun glides over Mary Frances Coady writes from 35 Cowan Avenue; Toronto, Ontario; M6K 2N1 Canada. 69.1 2010 Coady * Monasteries of Meteora to me, gives a light tap on my knee, motions with her hand, and looks at me with deep blue eyes. Her face is a mixture of kindness and unquestioned authority. Like a child caught in mid-mischief, I uncross my legs. And the chanting goes on and on . Later, in the nearby town of Kalambaka, we sit in the taverna drinking wine. Red and white checkered cloths cover the tables, and pictures of blonde American movie stars line the walls. In the darkness outside loom enormous rocks, called Meteora, a name derived from a word meaning high in the air. Bare and gray and phal-lic- shaped, they stand like a monstrous fortress. Hidden among them, as if suspended between earth and heaven, is a series of medieval Greek Orthodox monasteries. A handful of these, including the one where we have just attended Vespers, are still inhabited. This is desert land, the abode of ascetics. I wonder aloud why these monasteries were built in the first place and why anyone these days would want to return to such a medieval way of life. "You've got it wrong if you're thinking medieval," says my compan-ion, taking a sip of wine. "You've got to think Eastern." Eastern: the fierce mysticism, that is, of Byzantine Christianity. In the 1 lth century, hermits first came to Meteora seeking refuge from "the world." Here the caves and clefts of the forbidding rocks seemed the perfect home for those who sought to retreat from society and who strove to punish their bodies with rigorous practices so that they might purify their souls. The landscape was an exact mirror of their desire to disregard the things of earth and attend to heavenly matters. Once they had found their way up the rock face and had established their niche, the hermits remained Review for Religio~s undisturbed and free to pursue God in the silence of their own hearts. They fasted for days and even weeks on end, depending on the kindness of local peasants for their meager sustenance. They went years without washing, for this was one of the signs of a holy man (and indeed these early hermits seemed to be only men): one who disdained his body so much that even as his clothes rotted on top of him he remained lost in the contempla-tion of the eternal, oblivious to his own stench. In succeeding centuries, wars forced the hermits to group together for protection. In the 14th century the monk Athanasius arrived from Mount Athos, the group of monasteries that stretch over a fifty-kilome-ter peninsula jutting into the Aegean Sea southeast of Thessaloniki. With nine other monks he established the first Meteora monastery. As at Mount Athos, women were strictly forbidden to visit the monasteries, and the monks were instructed not to give food to a woman even if she were dying of hunger. (At Mount Athos, not even female animals were allowed. Athanasius himself, his early biographer tells us, never allowed the word "woman" to sully his lips.) At the height of the Middle Ages, the monasteries grew in number to twenty-four. Only three are now still inhabited: Transfiguration (Great Meteoron), All Saints (Varlaam), and St. Stephen's. It is not known exactly how the ascetics reached their lonely habitations, or how they got the materials hoisted up to build the monasteries. The likelihood is that they hired local hunters and goatherds who were intimately familiar with the passes and crags in the rock. The biographer of Athanasius says only: "And taking a certain climber, he put him on a stone, and building a hut he remained there a long time." Up until the early 69.1 2010 Coady * Monasteries of Meteora In 1961 the oldest monastery became a monastery for women. decades of this century, men who visited the monaster-ies either climbed by rope ladders, which were often frayed and barely secured, or were pulled up in net bas-kets, swinging precariously over the abyss. Visitors were instructed to avoid dizziness by closing their eyes as the creaking pulley lifted them up, and to chant a hymn in order to keep calm through the ordeal. In 1920 the monks began cutting steps into the rock leading up to the buildings, and in 1948 a paved road was completed, making the still-inhabited monaster-ies accessible by car. In the same year, permission was granted for women to visit the monaster-ies. (In these matters Meteora has sur-passed Mount Athos in modernization. At the entrance to the Holy Mountain, as Mount Athos is called, a sign still stands forbidding women to enter. Up until the late 1950s, wheeled vehicles were also forbidden, the only access to the Mount Athos monasteries being by foot or mule. The decision to build roadways still remains a controversy among some of the monks. Apparently no such controversy has yet arisen regarding the ban against women visitors.) In 1961 St. Stephen's, the oldest monastery and the only one visible from the road below, became a "nun-nery," or monastery for women. It is the most accessible of the monasteries; an eight-meter footbridge over the chasm brings the visitor face to face with the monas-tery's imposing iron door, which opens onto a sunny courtyard, the stark austerity softened by the presence of azalea and bougainvillea bushes and flowering plants Review for Religious in earthenware pots. This is the peaceful setting where the spiritual quest takes place in the stillness and soli-tude of the heart. Here nuns of all ages--a surprising number of them young, with smooth complexions and sparkling eyes--labor with rolled-up sleeves and easy smiles. A nearby plaque, however, refers to "the church of Christ" as the "new ark" that is saving the world from the "cataclysm of sin." The pleasant courtyard and happy faces can be deceptive: there is nothing sunny about the work that is carried out here. That work, here on a spot suspended between earth and sky, is nothing less than a lifetime spent in con-templation of the eternal--or, in other words, an inner search for what is essential and lasting. To carry out this quest, one leaves one's place of comfort and moves to a barren land where outward distractions have been left behind and the interior struggle begins. Anyone who has been on such a desert quest will tell you that the experience demands a healthy respect, and it is not to be undertaken lightly. In the ~adition of Byzantine Christianity, the search is carried out within the con-text of liturgical prayer, where one prays with the whole body, chanting, bowing, signing oneself with the cross, gathering in spirit the whole of humanity. We leave Meteora on a Sunday morning, driving past a church where men in well-pressed suits con-gregate outside, smoking cigarettes. No women are in sight; they are perhaps already inside, lighting tapers and placing them in a vat of sand at the back of the church. They too will pray with their bodies, moving about the church, bowing in front of icons, lighting more candles, moving their lips in prayer as bearded clerics in gold brocade vestments chant the prayers of the sacred liturgy. 69.1 2010 Coady ¯ Monasteries of Meteora Their sisters on top of the monastic rocks continue their lives of unceasing prayer. For them, Sunday is a solemn feast, and this means that there is more than the usual amount of liturgical prayer. There will be more chanting, more bowing, more lighting of candles. All that can be said, perhaps, of this stark way of life is that here there is a spiritual continuity, a sense of ageless prayer, a de

Issue 64.1 of the Review for Religious, 2005. ; Biblical Helps Maki ng Co nne c tion s QUART~:RLY 64.1: 2005 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to cbarisms of Catholic religious life, As Pope Paul VI 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: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ YVeb 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. ©2005 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 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. ~gournalof Catholic ~piri~uali~y eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Steve Erspamer S~I Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard . Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis csJ QUARTERLY 64.1 2005 contents prisms 4 Prisms religious life refocusea Religious Life: Naturally Sacred vs. Graced Sacred? Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR proposes a sacramental perspective as a corrective for religious institutes to employ in bringing a harmony between the apostolic service inspired by the graced sacred of their chrisms and that same service adapted to the naturally sacred of human invention. 22 Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church: Analogical Considerations Edward Foley OFMCap suggests that, when we look at lay-and-clerical religious communities through the lenses of biculturality and double religious belonging, we will find an untapped resource for the church and the world to which we minister. 37 bib icaO he ps Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament Colleen Vogt offers a pastoral solution for reclaiming the lament tradition, using lectio divina as a model to show how one might inhabit one of the p~alms of lament. Prayer / Reflection Review for Religious 51 The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey Matthias Newman OSB reviews the gradual increase of Bible reading in the everyday spirituality of Catholics and gives some guidelines for a person's spiritual journey. Prayer 65 making connections ~ Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises Frederick E. Crowe SJ describes two ways of our human growth--the way from above downwards (belief) and the way from below upwards (personal acquisition)--and applies these ways to the Ignatian Exercises. 76 Ignatian Colloquies: Their Surpassing Value A. Paul Dominic SJ reflects on the ease and power of the prayer time known as the Ignatian colloquies. Reflection and Discussion 89 94 99 departments Scripture Scope: Death and Resurrection: Patterns of Loss and Hope Canonical Counsel: Salus Anirnarurn Book Reviews 64.1 200~ What you are now holding in your hand is the first issue of a carefully revised Review for Religious. Our new subtitle, as you see, is A Journal of Catholic Spirituality, a description that has always been true of our journal without being expressed explicitly. One is slow to modify an esteemed sixty-three-year- old journal, either in its title or in its format. A number Of factors have led me as editor, with the consultation and approval of my advisory board and my editorial staff, to introduce this subtitle and a slightly different format, adapted from our experi-mental issues called Spirituality Review. From its beginnings Review for Religious had as its primary audience the many men and women reli-gious- priests, brothers, and sisters--now more accurately called members of the consecrated life-form in the church. At the same time Review for Religious had readers who were diocesan priests and seminarians and men and women belonging to "third Orders" or secular associations of traditional religious orders such as the Benedictines and Franciscans. But the very title of the journal referred only to "sisters" and "brothels" and some priests. Today, in view of the women and men who are now formally associated with the spirituality and min- Review for Religious istries of various religious congregations and the many others who are coworkers in the mission, it seems appropriate to make our name more inclusive. Our journal desires to share the charisms of consecrated life with all who hope thereby to enhance their Christian lives. Review for Religious has always been a journal for mem-bers of all religious congregations, without focusing on just one of them. Now this journal continues along this path with renewed mindfulness of how laypersons can benefit from the richness of the church's various spiritual traditions. Review for Religious will continue to publish articles that are theological, pastoral, spiritual, historical, and sometimes canonical. As in our Spirituality Review supplement, we will have some articles that invite interaction, both through per-sonal reflection and through conversation with others. At the same time, we will continue to publish articles that demand more attentive reading and slow personal assimilation. We will have the more interactive articles in full on our website () along with synopses of other articles from the current issue. They will be easily acces-sible via the "icons" that grace particular sections of each issue. We ask you, our readers, to spread the good news about Review for Religious. David L. Fleming SJ 64.1 2005 NIHAL ABEYASINGHA Religious Life: Naturally Sacred vs. Graced Sacred? religious life refocused The World Bank has initiated a dialogue with faiths and cultures. One of its aims is to maximize the effectiveness of its projects.' Underlying the dialogue is this institution's supposition that it needs to look carefully at the beneficiaries of its projects. Their perceptions and viewpoints could be more relevant and practical than those of its own administrative personnel. The question is twofold. Are the World Bank's assumptions a hindrance or a support to the projects it sponsors, and can there be a mutually beneficial dialogue (teaching and learning hand in hand, "evangelizing and being evangelized") between the financing partner (World Bank) and the beneficiary (the nation and its people)? In the present article I pose and try to answer those two questions in the .context of religious life. Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR has degrees in law, philosophy, Buddhism, and Catholic and evangelical theology; has recently retired from university teaching in Sri Lanka; and is spending time away from his country. He can be contacted c/o L.N. de S. Wijeyerame; 25, 2nd Lane; Ratmalana, Sri Lanka. Email: nabeyasingha@yahoo.com. Review for Religious If a religious institute can be considered the repository (the bank) of its charism and the "marginalized" the beneficiaries of its charism, the issues are, first, whether the methods of the institute are a help or hindrance to what it seeks to accomplish and, second, what mutual benefits of dialogue and interaction might we be talking about (evangelizing and being evangelized). I preface these reflections with a brief reference to Vatican Council II. When the decree Perfectae caritatis was being finalized, the forces in the council that were in tune with its renewed thinking had lost their theological battle to incorporate the vision of Lumen gentium (Constitution on the Church) into Perfectae caritatis (Decree on Religious Life). So they decided on a strategy. They outlined a method of reform and adaptation of religious life and left the actual adaptation to the religious institutes themselves. Perhaps no other council document (except Optatam totius in §16) describes a method so explicitly. The hope was that religious institutes would bring to their adaptation the vision of Lumen gentium. The method included two steps and five principles. The steps were for religious life to return to the sources of all Christian life and to adapt community living to meet the conditions of today. The five principles are (1) that the purpose of religious life is to follow Christ more closely, to live his story as it is told in the Gospels; (2) that the unique contribution of a religious institute to the church comes from the spirit and customs of its founders; (3) that all religious communities contribute to the church by taking up needs of the apostolate; (4) that communities' keen awareness of the human condition in today's world will help them serve more adequately; and (5) that all the external changes in the world mean nothing without a renewal of heart that never forgets that the goal of religious life is closeness to Christ through the vows. 64.1 2005 Abeyasingha * Religious Life The charism of the institute is a graced gift of the Spirit that~ is not available to all. A Challenging Counterfeit Probably all religious institutes have adapted their constitutions and statutes in accordance with these two steps and five principles, but problems arise amid this very renewal. In addressing them I offer this first hypothesis, namely, that sometimes what makes for the personal fulfillment of the members of a religious institute may hinder the effective functioning of the charism. The paradox of human existence is that we are spiritual and bodily at the same time. The paschal mystery touches the very depths of our being (see Rm 6). But the problem is: Can we ever fully know what our full potential as humans beings is and what depends on the gift of the Holy Spirit? Almost every spiritual gift has what has been called "a challenging counterfeit"-- spiritual healing-psychic healing, prophecy-psychic knowing, divine ecstasy-self-induced trance, and so forth) The one comes from the Spirit, the other from human nature. No one denies that what comes from human nature is good. But the problem comes when the natural is identified as not merely from "above," but as a gift of the spirit beyond questioning by mere mortals, including those entrusted with the task of "discerning spirits" within the religious institute. Natural gifts are good, even sacred, because they ultimately derive from the Spirit. But religious life bears witness to the following of Christ according to the charism of the founder. Following Christ is a call to all people without exception; the charism of the institute is a graced gift of the Spirit that is not available to all. Review for Religious The charism is different from the naturally sacred. Rudolf Otto wrote of the numinous. Jung discovered a religious component in mental health. The charism, on the other hand, is what can be called the "graced sacred." This graced sacred brings us to a greater awareness of our difference from God, seen in our particular personhood and historicity, and leads us to communion with God and with our fellow human beings. This is the point of Lumen gentium, the constitution on the church, describing the church as a sacrament, a sign and instrument of intimate union with God and the unity of the whole human race. Harmonizing the Naturally Sacred and the Graced Sacred What I suggest in this article is that the harmony comes about from the meaning of sacrament. The sacramentality of the church is expressed preeminently in seven different aspects (the sacraments) and many other practices (sacramentals). One sacrament cannot be substituted for another; the fruit of each is specific. That specific fruit is symbolized by specific natural elements and the orientation given to those elements by specific words. Similarly, I suggest, religious life and its institutes may not be in a position to use all of the naturally sacred (all of the multiplicity of good gifts) along with the graced sacred of their specific charisms, but must keep a sacramental perspective: the bread and wine of Eucharistic celebrations are no substitute for the water of baptism. To think and do otherwise is like something described by Eric Gill (1882-1940): "The clergy seem to regard it as their job to support a social order which as far as possible forces us to commit all the sins they denounce. ¯ . . A man can be a very good Catholic in a factory, our parish priest used to be fond of saying. And he was very annoyed and called us bolshevists when we retorted: Yes, 64.1 2005 Abeyusingba ¯ Religious Life but it requires heroic virtue and you have no right to demand heroic virtue from anyone and certainly not from men and women in thousands and millions." A Specific "Grace" for a Specific "Need" of a Specific "People" Here is an example from the secular world. Why do business corporations exist? To make a profit for shareholders by serving their clientele. Coca-Cola marketed a soft drink with a particular flavor for nearly a hundred years. Many felt it was time to change. A new flavor was developed. For four years there were market surveys and discussions about whether the new flavor would be accepted. Experts thought it would. But, when the new flavor was introduced, sales began falling, Coca- Cola dealers began complaining, speculators were buying up the old brand and reselling it at a premium. Once the facts were established, the management was quick to do a flip-flop. As always in the marketplace, even the cleverest ideas surrender unconditionally to reality. To express this in the language of sacraments, Coca- Cola is the church. The drink it produces and advertises (the external sign) is intended to get specific results: popular refreshment and financial profit. When adaptations are made for greater effectiveness and that effectiveness is not forthcoming, the company goes back to its original specific success. (The analogies here are, of course, rather loose.) Both business effectiveness and sacramental effectiveness may have something that religious institutes could well learn from. Another analogy would be: As any fisherman knows, the bait has to be attractive to the fish, not to the fisherman. A group of teaching brothers came from Europe to a mission country many years ago and established a small school primarily for Catholics in the town, but others were Review for Religious admitted if there was room. The brothers received no salary; their founding province supported them. Because of their sheer dedication, the school prospered. Years passed. Graduates of the school did very Well and soon held many of the better jobs. More and more students applied for admission. The school expanded. Fees were raised. The result? The poorer Catholic children for whom the school was originally intended could no longer afford the school, and, with the shortage of vocations in Europe, the brothers could no longer staff the school and so they pulled out. The diocese now runs the school. The question is whether the school and its activity and reputation are still effective signs producing the particular good result it was established to produce. Less than ten percent of its students are from poor Catholic families. I raise another question. A religious who was a popular teacher and preacher (let us call him Jack) asked and received permission to study for a doctorate in his own country. During his studies he wanted to continue with some teaching and preaching, his institute's main work; that, too, was approved. When he asked for a computer, however, he was told, "We cannot afford to give you a computer, but if someone gives you one you may keep it." At that same time his institute was spending a great deal of money on other things, including computers for others studying elsewhere. What sense does this make? What is the "sign value" of this refusal, especially when it is the institute's policy to provide members with what they need for their mission and apostolate? Priority of Insight over Orders: Problems of Transition An institution is always in danger of taking care of itself first and finding reasons for continuing to do what it has begun doing. Before Vatican II one hardly thought of the 64.1 2005 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life church and religious life as sacramental. They were institutions and functioned like clockwork on orders given from above rather than by options freely made by the members. The only option members had was to join the institute or leave it. Leaving An institution was not really an option, for is always in danger of it was considered putting oneself in danger of dam-taking care of itself first nation. But with Vatican II the idea came to the fore and finding reasons for-o that God's revelation is not continuing to~do so much the communication ~ of his will by commands, but what it has begun doing:., rather the manifestation of ___ I his call in Christ. Options took priority over orders--not that orders did not have a place. Life always has to function with some insights and orders from above. In the period of transition, option often came to mean a choice for oneself and for one's own pleasure and convenience. The result was some new terminology and some misunderstandings. Many religious who had worked tirelessly in the mission field were convinced of their mission's importance, but their success (judged especially by the love of the people) began to be criticized from the perspective of social-justice issues. Critics said it was more important to root out the causes of evil than to treat the victims of it. (When a drunken driver is knocking people down, one stops the driver first and then takes care of the injured.) 12 With democratic elections of superiors, numbers counted. Lobbying for candidates became a virtue supposedly for the good of the insftute. Advertisements in Catholic publications, and much more the talks of vocation promoters to prospective candidates, pointed Review for Religious out the benefits of joining this or that institute. One such promoter of vocations says, "If you join, you will get a good education, two degrees, never be without food, shelter, and clothing, take trips abroad" and so forth. The Ironic Priority of the Naturally Sacred over the Graced Sacred Twenty or thirty years ago a certain pastoral initiative was to be voted on. Some thought it was going astray. An insightful religious defended the initiative and argued that negative votes would probably be motivated by envy more than prudence. My interest now, though, is in the conclusion of what he said at the time, a short section titled "Tips to Younger Members." Today it seems to make a great deal of sense. I present an edited version of what he said, so that the individuals and the institute involved may not be identified. Those who have followed the recent efforts to block the pastoral initiative will surely have picked up some guidelines for their future. Some of these could be: 1. Concentrate on becoming popular. This is more important today, when decisions depend a great deal on the community, than when the superior was all-powerful. If you are accepted by the confreres, whatever you do will be accepted. If you are unpopular, you could be a hundred percent right, but people will find flaws. 2. Develop your apostolate outside the congregation, rather than do something that will redound to its name. 3. Spend more time on creating public opinion than on the actual work. Opportunities for this are many in the work you do and in community gatherings. Every vote you win can help. An 64.1 2005 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life excellent way of becoming popular is to caricature someone else, preferably someone who is out of favor at the time. 4. Note that some institutes operate like prima donnas and cannot tolerate another getting the limelight and tend to undermine those that succeed. 5. Note that, beneath all the spiritual talk, we use the same tactics that politics does; for example, we eliminate those who threaten our position. 6. Note that some confreres are skillful in getting people transferred, projects closed, and houses rethought. Enlist their help if you find that your present house or a particular confrere does not suit your taste. 7. Remember that, if you muster a sufficient quantity of emotion, it can carry more weight than rational arguments. 8. If you have a foreign degree and good contacts abroad, use arguments camouflaged by spirituality to prevent others from acquiring similar advantages: 9. Do not forget to choose scapegoats. They provide safety outlets for group frustration. If possible, pick on the more talented ones, for that will give you a head start in the race. It is easy to see that this man's irony points out the danger of the naturally sacred taking priority over the graced sacred and, worse still, acquiring institutional approval. Where to focus? My Contention is that the sacramental perspective, as outlined earlier, could function as a corrective. In this regard I recall two axioms that were used in sacramental theology: "Sacraments are for people" and "Sacraments are to be celebrated in a Revie~ for Religious human way." The corrective is people, learning from them even as one teaches and serves them and letting the normal dynamic of human interactions operate. Introducing a Corrective Based as they are on people's memories and often on their catering to their own selves, mentalities cannot be changed by decree. It is possible, however, to improve one's memories by expanding one's horizons. It is possible to lessen one's selfishness by increasing it, by including others within the ambit of self-love and self-fulfillment and thereby making pleasures of longer duration available to them and oneself, by loving your neighbor as yourself. In our day the horizons of memory are constantly being expanded. There is the effort to draw from Christian and pre-Christian thinkers principles that could be used in management. There is fascination in the variety of cultural patterns, even though unfortunately the principle of "might is right" sometimes operates. Other problems arise when people do what they consider good for others without paying enough attention to cultural patterns. Technology has expanded, and now there is the marvel of the global village. People cannot survive in this "village" by excluding others and looking out only for themselves. But that does not mean following others blindly. It is by contributing one's particular insight that one benefits from the global environment. How the Corrective Could Function The principle is that all people have specific contributions to make in the service of others. That is the reason for the very existence of religious institutes. In the global village the interconnections among people can help in the sharing .of benefits, but, if people simply remain members of the crowd and do not offer something 64.1 200Y Abeyasingba * Religious Life specific, the benefits to be shared are nothing special and what each person receives is even less. How the religious charism functions is not much different. Those who bear the charism today have to be fully aware of both providing and receiving benefits, benefits that are not necessarily measurable in money or any other numerical way. The benefits are in the life of the community of believers and in the life of the religious institute. In the history of Christianity, when many believers, sometimes the majority, deviated from gospel values, almost always it was a religious institute that initiated the reform. Eric Gill said that the "social order" which his parish priest supported (namely, values which well-meaning people usually support) often forces people to commit all the sins they denounce. This was the point made in the satiric novel The Ugly American, which showed how unintended negative results often come out of well-intentioned and generous works of U.S. foreign policy.3 One can perhaps draw from it some ideas for religious to take into account today. 1. If you manipulate people or achieve results using unethical means, the people at some point use these same means against you. Because unethical means often yield quick results, it is easy, when human rights are violated, to focus on some beneficial result being achieved at the moment. The words of a British politician are relevant: "We have no perpetual friends, no perpetual enemies; we have only perpetual interests." Western religious orders with dwindling numbers are tempted to take in members from wherever they can in order to continue the works they have set up. But have they ever asked themselves whether what they are doing caters to the self-interest of the recruits. Are the new members interested in religious life and the ministry of the institute? Or do they consider it a way of getting access to the more affluent world? By Review for Religious getting new members accustomed to levels of creature comforts well above those of the upper-middle class in their own countries, are religious institutes providing the means for a more effective ministry or are they creating a self-serving inward-looking membership? When higher superiors support blindly the actions of lower superiors, regardless of whether such actions are ethical or not, what message are they conveying to observers who have offered criticism and to others who see or hear about what is going on? The ironic "Tips to Younger Members" mentioned above are all-too-accurate a list of what religious institutes, sometimes knowingly, sometimes with naive good intentions, actually do. They seem not to ask themselves pointedly whether tolerating (or even approving) such conditions Wh nstarting lO al m-o ement, local resources. and arrangements almost inevitably causes amoral and even immoral practices to increase in the general membership. 2. When starting a local movement, use local resources. First discern the spirit of the locals that one chooses as collaborators. Then let the locals decide clearly and exactly what it is they want. When the project takes a life of its own, know that it is time to bid goodbye and let the locals manage.it. In The Ugly American a priest who wanted to do something for the locals has been so successful that the U.S. ambassador in the country writes about him, "If the report is accurate, this man is an agitator of the most extreme skill, and combines with this the typical Jesuitical command of dialectics. The priest is rumored to speak Burmese, eats native food, and is obviously engaged in some sort of papist plot. I need not remind you of Lenin's warnings about the skill of the 64.1 2005 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life papacy when its interests are threatened. I should appreciate receiving whatever dossier material you might have on this man.''4 If any project initiated by an outsider is to endure and not be considered a foreign imposition, it must take on a life of its own in the new soil. When people have forgotten who started a given project, that is a good sign. It means it has become part of themselves. In Bombay, India, the vigil Mass for Sundays was started relatively recently. But in Sri Lanka it has been functioning for over thirty years. The same is true of the paschal vigil celebrated after nightfall and not at midnight. If asked who initiated the changes in these places, people would probably have no idea. The fact is that they were introduced by one priest after he found that some people had difficulty coming to Sunday Mass and the Easier Vigil celebrated at midnight. Many of his fellow priests, however, were very negative about his initiative. If a project is to take a life of its own and continue beyond the lifetime of those who set it in place, it must operate according to local norms, use local resources, and harness local technology. The general temptation is often to go high tech, but in the less-developed world high tech often flounders. How many computers have been damaged when the electricity fails without warning or when voltage fluctuates? How much equipment lies unused in hospitals, either because the technician who was trained to operate the instrument has retired or because the materials required to operate it are not easily available? When high-tech equipment needs repair, who is at hand to repair it or who has the money to replace it? How few are those who think ahead and avoid such problems! How many projects fail to take account of the real needs of the people here and now and the present state of development! Are they projects that the people Review for Religious can contribute to and participate in? 3. If one can move with the "native" majority-- haltingly at first and with more confidence later--and come to share their way of life, one comes to understand their hopes and fears and expectations. That is an excellent basis for an apostolate that the majority will feel part of. With all their limitations and biases, they will bring also their native wisdom. On the other hand, if one begins with a minority elite that shares one's own cultural background and lifestyle, the apostolate is likely to move in an elitist direction and result in efforts "owned" mostly by the few and largely for their own benefit. 4. One can learn even from those who oppose one's efforts. In The Ugly American the exchange between two characters--both of them in the armed forces--is interesting. One is French and the other American. They are both involved in fighting the communists in Vietnam. The Frenchman believes that beyond the classical authors there is little to learn. But the war is going badly for those who are following classical methods. The American comes along. He proposes that some of the principles of Mao Tse-tung be included in their war effort, and he proposes fighting a battle on those principles. The Frenchman is surprised and even pleased at their success. The lesson is clear. One can learn tactics and strategy even from the "enemy"--those espousing false doctrine, unconscionable goals, and so forth. The Reassertion of the Graced Sacred Early in this article I pointed out the relation and the difference between the naturally sacred and the graced sacred. The interplay between them comes to the fore in Advent, when one reflects on the significance of Jesus' incarnation. It occurs in the prayers after communion on the four Sundays of Advent: "May our communion teach 64.1 2005 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life us to love heaven. May its promise and hope guide our way on earth"; "teach us to judge wisely the things of earth and to love the things of heaven"; "may this Eucharist free us from our sins and prepare us for the birthday of our Savior"i "in this sacrament we receive the promise of salvation; as Christmas draws near, make us grow in faith and love." It is not that the things of this world are evil. The statement "Indeed, nothing genuinely human fails to raise an echo in [Christians'] hearts" (GS §1) sums up the spirit of Vatican II. The point is the balance. While we appreciate and enjoy the things of this world, how do we express our faith in Christ? We seek a balance between the things of earth and those of heaven. The prayer in Proverbs 30:7-9 is relevant to ordinary human affairs and to the charism of a religious institute: "O God, two things I beg of you; do not deny me them before I die. Keep lying and falsehood far away from me; give me neither poverty nor riches; give me just as much food as I need lest, satisfied, I deny you and say, 'Who is Yahweh?' Or else, being in want, I steal and profane the name of my God." It is easy to begin well and end up doing all-too-well for ourselves. If, however, we live with and work for the majority and, more particularly, the lower end of that majority, then there is a good reality check on whether we are incarnating the charism to address today's needs or manipulating the charism for ourselves. An Italian missionary in Sri Lanka was known for his love for the laborers in his parishes. Eventually he became bishop and was known as the "coolie bishop." He traveled by public transport and, when asked why, said he liked to meet the ordinary people. Beggars walked in and out of his office. When celebrating Mass for the laborers, he went to them in full episcopal attire because, he said, he wanted to Review for Religious honor them. When I was a young priest, he was already retired. When I visited him soon after my ordination, he told me, "Look after the poor. If you do that, the rich will automatically come to you." Notes ~ See www.worldbank.org. 2 See Robert T. Sears, "A Christian Approach to Discerning Spiritualities," Journal of Christian Healing 21, no. 1 (spring 1999): 17-18. 3 William J. Lederer and Eugene Burdick, The Ugly American (London, 1958). By 1961 it had gone into thirteen printings. 4 Lederer and Burdick, Ugly American, p. 41. Be Still Be still, very still, and know that I am God. Listen to the steady breathing of a baby fern just before dawn. Listen to the high blue air calling to a distant cloud. (Do not try to woo me with your words. My heart already aches for yours - oh, if you but knew!) Listen to a cornstalk's shadow singing to the sun. Listen to ants chuckling, scratching their ears, to seeds throbbing with life. Listen long with your whole being. My voice is a whisper. My voice is silence. Be very, very still. Louise Finn CND 64.1 2005 EDWARD FOLEY Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church: Analogical Considerations An intriguing outcome of the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life was the definition of a new genre of religious life, '~mixed communities." In Vita con-secrata Pope John Paul II has described "mixed" com-munities as institutes that originally "were envisioned as a brotherhood in which all members, priests and those who were not priests, were considered equal among themselves" but "have acquired a different form with the passage of time" (§61). Two distinct yet 0ppositional fac-tors in this picture are the clericalization that had occurred in many men's religious communities before Vatican Council II and the call of the council's Perfectae caritatis (§2) for communities to return to the original inspiration of their founders.1 Edward Foley OFMCap presented a x;ersion of this article in Assisi in March 2004. He is professor of liturgy and music at Chicago Theological Union, where his address is 5401 South Cornell Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60615. Review for Religious When my Capuchin Franciscan order addressed these two factors, it became clear that brotherhood and fra-ternity, rather than ordination, are the "specific kernel of the gospel form of life revealed by the Most High to Francis." Capuchins have declined to introduce "clerical institute" language into our constitutions, appealing this matter directly to Pope John Paul II in 1987. The pope's 1996 message to our minister general, in which he stressed the link between our identity as brothers and the nature of "mixed institutes," seems to affirm the non-clerical nature of our order.2 Despite such official clarifications, however, there continue to be tensions among Capuchins regarding the appropriate relationship between ordination and reli-gious profession. Such tensions manifest themselves gov-ernmentally around the questions of electing lay brothers as provincials and of the proper role of concelebration in Capuchin life. Initial formation also is a point of con-tention: formators struggle with balance between for-mation for Capuchin life and formation for ordained ministry. Such tensions are not limited to Capuchins or Franciscans; many "mixed communities" struggle with them. More broadly, the Roman Catholic Church itself could be considered a "mixed community" comprising lay and ordained persons, persons of equal dignity in dif-ferent ecclesial states of life. And so I offer this study of "Capuchin priesthood" not only as a way to rethink the nature of ordained priesthood within institutes of consecrated life, but also as a way to reenvision the relationship of ordination and baptism, of the clergy and the laity. If a community of equal members can consider the juxtaposition of its Franciscan "minority" and its sacerdotality less as a prob-lem to be solved than a grace to be lived, maybe its think-ing can help other religious communities and the church 64.1 200~ Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church 24 itself to think about appropriate complementarities among the mix of lay and ordained members. I propose this reenvisioning through two unexpected analogues to the relationship of priesthood and member-ship in an institute of consecrated life. These two ana-logues are biculturality and double religious belonging. Biculturality One of the characteristics of 2 lst-century society is a heightened multiculturalism. Cultural commentators and especially cross-cultural psychologists have begun to explore the phenomenon of biculturality. Sometimes it is defined as "the ability of people in a minority culture to understand and work within the dominant culture in order to improve their economic and/or physical well-being .[while retaining] the knowledge and behaviors of their own indigenous culture." 3 Some contend that bicul-turalism is only a transitory phase.4 Others believe that biculturality is by definition the marginal experience of not being in either culture, but trying to understand and change that situation,s Recently, however, some researchers have argued that biculturality is not necessarily a matter of marginalizafion or dislocation nor an uncomfortable step toward assim-ilation. Rather, it is a healthy and even ideal stage in which one's original cultural worldview remains while one acquires other cultural views.6 According to these researchers, then, biculturality can be the integrated life stance of belonging to two cultures at the same time.7 This view of biculturality suggests that living what some have called "a hyphenated existence" successfully does not mean achieving a perfect equilibrium between cultures, but engaging in a continuous negotiation between them. Researchers have found that bicultural persons do not embrace elements from both cultures to Review for Religious the same degree at the same time. Instead, as their self-identities adjust to various social situations, they seek various cultural balances.8 They seem to achieve an advanced degree of acculturation, becom-ing adept at drawing upon varied aspects of their cultural identities as needed. I think that this more positive and dynamic understanding of biculturality pro-vides a useful analogy for thinking about religaous profession vis-a-vis the priesthood. In particular, I think it makes three distinc-tive contributions to thinking about this relationship. First of all, biculturality suggests that being an ordained religious does not force one to choose either the religious life or the priesthood as primary or foundational. Unfortunately, this choice is often made: men describe themselves as "first a Capuchin, and only then a priest." Such words imply that one vocation is not as important or as privileged a voice in the identity as the other. Chronologically, of course, formation as a Capuchin ordi-narily comes first and then formation for presbyteral min-istry, but this does not prevent a friar from living an integrated life, with religious profession and ordination as equal dialogue partners in the lived "culture" of his vocation. If one were to find theological meaning in this chronology, a meaning that would supersede "cultural" considerations, that could introduce a kind of colonial-ism by suggesting, for example, that Capuchin priesthood must somehow be tamed by Capuchin life--or vice versa. Biculturality, however, suggests another way. Individual Capuchins and Capuchin communities that 64.1 2005 Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gi~ to the Church welcome both profession and ordination can model-- because of that lived reality--a mutual "inculturation" (not an "acculturation,''9 but a constructive bicultural-ity), an integration without denigration. This would be a turn to what some theologians call "complementary dualism," a kind of East Asian yin-yang symbolic think-ing-- a "both/and" form of thinking distinct from the "conflicting dualism" and "either/or" thinking that mark so much of Western thought.1° Biculturality reveals that, in the hyphenated reality of the friar-priest and in the reality of ordained and nonordained members in mixed communities, there is actually grace: for the individual, the community, the church, and the world. Biculturality suggests that there is here a gift to be accepted, not a problem to be solved.~ There is, as Jung Young Lee asserts, an invitation to be not only "both/and," not only "in-between," but also "in-beyond," transcending the present and finding a new identity, a new understand-ing, a new relationality epitomized as a "harmony of dif-ference." 12 A second contribution of biculturality to our under-standing of ordained religious and of communities that comprise both the lay and ordained vocations is aware-ness of the dynamism present there. As previously noted, various studies have shown that bicultural persons make various adaptations according to various social situa-tions. 13 This insight is useful for mixed communities and for their individual friar-priests. Just as a bicultural African American woman knows when to adapt to one or other circumstance or keep a balance between them, so can individual Capuchin priests and Capuchin communities acquire sufficient integra-tion to know what to do when. An example would be concelebration. When they concelebrate, ordained friars emphasize the presbyteral facet of their ecclesial identity. Review for Religious Sometimes this is most appropriate, as at the Chrism Mass on Holy Thursday, when priests celebrate receiv-ing their priesthood from Christ in union with their bishop. At a Mass of first profession, however, concele-bration is inappropriate, for it would emphasize the priesthood of some of the friars at a ritual moment when our Capuchin identity is the focus. Concelebration is not an absolute right; it needs to be regulated in accord with various sensible considerations.14 Note that the goal of people's inculturation is alertness to relevant consid-erations and wisdom in weighing them in various cir-cumstances. One-size-fits-all responses (such as "No concelebration, ever" or "I always concelebrate") are not adequate. The goal is not to ignore or suppress prefer-ences and other considerations, but to find the appro-priate dynamic balance in various circumstances. A third contribution of bicultural understandings is that they can put us in solidarity with the many sisters and brothers around the world for whom biculturality is not an option, but a fact of their everyday life. The last thirty years have brought a 230-percent increase in the number of people who live outside their countries of birth--an estimated 185 million people,is Growing numbers of today's people are of mixed race. As V]rgilio Elizondo has aptly noted, "the future is mestizo." 16 Of course, biculturality and mixed race are not nec-essarily synonymous terms, especially if one thinks of biculturality as an advanced state of acculturation. Unfortunately, many immigrants and people of mixed race live in circumstances of marginalization and forced itinerancy, not integration. Such pilgrims long to move in from the margins, finding a society that allows them to live their own lives--woven of disparate social and cultural strands--in integrated and peaceful ways. If we are to be on mission to these displaced and dis- 64.1 2005 Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gift to the Cburcb traught people, we must acknowledge that our first step in evangelization is "the example of our lives.''~7 The ecclesially "mixed" ~8 nature of international communities such as the Capuchins is an untapped resource for our mission to those caught between countries, languages, We are a hybrid community, a conjunction of lay and ordained, disparate str~ands woven together into a single, yet not homogenized identity: ? and cultures, for we embody an ecclesias-tical biculturality and are a religious paral-lel to what some post-modern scholars call "hybridity." We are a hybrid community, a conjunction of lay and ordained, dis-parate strands woven together into a single yet not homogenized identity. We are living examples-- or at least potential examples--of ecclesiastical incul-turation, of the integration of clerical and lay cultures into better relationship. Double Religious Belonging Another contemporary form of hybridity is double religious belonging.19 This, too, may help lay religious and ordained religious reimage their togetherness. Double religious belonging--that is, being an adherent of one religion while incorporating the teachings or prac-tices of another religion--may be attributable to increas-ing globalization. In the West and in a church such as ours, this appears to be the case.2° In countries like Japan, however, double religious belonging is not only widespread but also a traditional, preglobalization real-ity. Recent government statistics indicate that, in a coun-try of 126 million, 100 million Japanese identify Review for Religious themselves as Shinto adherents, and 95 million identify themselves as Buddhists. The only conclusion one can draw is that a majority of Japanese consider themselves both Shintoists and Buddhists.2~ Not only is double religious belonging the rule in China, Japan, Korea, Vietnam, India, Nepal, and Sri Lanka;22 it is also at the root of Christian origins. Claude Geffr~ writes: "At first the Jews who had become disci-ples of the path of Jesus found it completely normal to continue to visit the synagogue, to be circumcised, and not to eat certain forms of impure meats. Thus they believed in the possibility of remaining Jewish while becoming Christian.''23 Despite this history, however, double religious belonging has emerged as a theological problem "in reli-gions that demand an absolute and exclusive commit-ment on the part of their adherents to their founders and/or faiths." Peter Phan numbers among such reli-gions Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. He notes that "these three religions consider themselves not only mutu-ally incompatible but also irreconcilable with any other religion whatsoever, so that 'conversion' to any one of them is often celebrated with an external ritual signaling a total abjuration of all previous religious allegiances." Despite such official stances, some Roman Catholic and other Christian scholars believe that double belonging-- being a Hindu Christian or a Christian Buddhist--is increasing and may even be desirable.24 1 will leave that debate to theologians concerned with religious plural-ism, but I want to examine two contributions that dou-ble religious belonging brings to our rethinking of the "mixed communities" of priests and lay religious. First, double religious belonging is a catalyst for a particular and promising type of dialogue across notori-ously difficult terrain. Vv'hen individuals and communi- 64.1 200Y. Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gi3~ to the Church ties simultaneously identify themselves with two distinct religious traditions, they enable dialogue marked by unusual openness and absence of acrimony. In describing effective interreligious dialogue, Jacques Dupuis says that, "in order to be true, interreligious dialogue between persons of different faiths requires that both partners make a positive effort to enter into each other's religious experience and overall vision insofar as is possible.''2s Such empathy is a particular gift of those individuals and communities who live not between but within two dif-ferent religious experiences. Their dialogue is actually a dialogue with themselves, and it has a ready capacity for honesty and authenticity in a complementary rather than exclusionary manner. It is, in effect, a public self-exam-ination requiring a particular humility and honesty. Such dialogue is not only a technique for survival but a powerful form of witness and evangelization.26 It reveals Christianity in its most hospitable mode, allowing for "mutual complementarity" that enriches all partners in the dialogue.27 It is a rejection of colonial forms of mis-sionary activity where the goal is to impose one's reli-gious beliefs on another community, and an exquisite example of a new kind of missiological dialogue--a "mis-sion in reverse"--in which a true mutuality between mis-sionary and community develops,z8 Analogously, 2 lst-century Capuchins--like other mixed communities--embody a kind of double religious belonging, both within individual friars and within our communities. The graced invitation here is to a public dialogue of the self, a new response to our constitutions' call to "mutual dialogue" in a spirit of fraternal under-standing and sincere esteem,29 a call to a continual self-examination marked by empathy, honesty, and hospitality. If we can sustain such humble dialogue, not so much for resolving some perceived problem in our Capuchin iden- Review for Religious tity as for continual self-reflection, Capuchin life will freshly give gospel witness to people outside the Roman Catholic community. Simultaneously, such Capuchin Franciscan dialogue will become a poignant form of "new evangelization," not only (in Pope John Paul's words) as "reawakening traditionally Christian countries to the urgency of the gospel," but also as struggling with the alienation that faithful Catholics often feel as a result of clericalism in the face of yearnings for new models for the ordained ministry. A second contribution of double religious belonging to our rethinking of Capuchin priesthood is its invita-tion to reconciliation. Few forms of violence are more heinous than those perpetrated in the name of religion. Holy wars, a disturb-ing human reality, are a particularly unset-tling legacy among Jews, Christians, and Muslims.3° In his clas-sic work Violence and the Sacred, Ren4 Girard ,i A secon~ d. contribution of idouble religious belonging ' :o~o to o.urreth~i~tking ~ ,,~"~ ~i~of Capuch~n priesthood ::~ ,:is i~s invitation to r~coffciliation, has demonstrated how religion and violence are wed together in ancient religions.31 As recent events in Bosnia, Northern Ireland, Israel, Afghanistan, and other places demonstrate, however, the inseparability of religion and violence has not been relegated to some ancient past. Sadly, many today embrace violence as a "sacred duty." 32 As Christians we are called to confess the horrors we have perpetrated under the banner of Christ. As John Cobb summarizes, "our history is replete with persecu-tion of Jews and heretics. We have sanctioned and sanc- 64.1 2005 Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gi3~ to the Church dried conquest and slavery. We have undergirded patri-archy in extreme and horrific forms. We have ignored the consequences of our actions for the well-being of the natural world, thus threatening the human future on this planet. We have used political and economic power to force our beliefs on others." 33 Few have modeled our need to confess such sins of commission and omission as much as our H01y Father, who throughout his pon-tificate has confessed the wrongs that the church has perpetrated against Jews, the Orthodox, minorities, and others.34 This is an essential move towards reconcilia-tion. Yet forgiveness is not a power that belongs to the perpetrators, but a gift that belongs to victims, and it is a gift they can give only when they are no longer demo-nized, colonialized, trivialized, or in some other way dis-missed as the "other.''3s Those who experience the grace of double religious belonging can show us the way. They have embraced the other to themselve~ and become living icons of interre-ligious dialogue. As dynamic models of integration, they clarify that reconciliation is not an act once and for all achieved, but an abiding prophetic stance.36 Individuals and, even more so, communities of double religious belonging are symbolic antidotes for the poisons of reli-gious ignorance and hostility, and show the way to "shalom." A minorite community of lay and ordained members can be similarly iconic. Individual ordained fri-ars and, even moire so, communities of lay and ordained brothers also manifest, in a sense, double religious belonging. They show clearly that there are no aliens or strangers in our midst, that otherness is to be welcomed. What a potent witness to a church in which there is considerable feeling of alienation. Many feel that prob-lems of a clerical culture significantly contributed to the sexual abuse that has rocked the church in my own coun- Review for Religious try and others. The clergy and the laity feel some alien-ation from each other. In a recent study of newly ordained Roman Catholic priests in the United States, the respected sociologist Dean Hoge reports that sev-enty- five percent of diocesan priests in the United States ordained between 1995 and 1999 believe that ordination confers on priests a new status which makes him essen-tially different from the laity; sixty-nine percent believe that a priest must see himself as a "man set apart" by God; and thirty-six percent think the laity need to be "better educated to respect the authority of the priest's word.''37 This suggests that considerable numbers of Roman Catholic priests and laypersons may view each other as different, unreconciled strangers, even aliens. Like all those who embrace otherness even in them-selves, we Capuchins too must be agents of reconcilia-tion, in the church and for the church and the world. In the image of the Crucified, we are called to break the circle of violence, to model a new way of being church, a new way of being priest, no.t predicated upon separa-tion and sacralization, but rather in solidarity with oth-ers and in humble service. A Gift to the Church Often communities like my own consider the issue of lay friars and friar-priests an internal one. I would contend that mixed communities are not an intra nos "problem," but a gift to the church and the world. The meaning, the reality, of that gift is well illustrated by its analogy with the contemporary phenomena of biculturality and double reli-gious belonging. Such reenvisioning is useful not only for mixed religious communities, but also for a the contem-porary "mixed" church. In a world and church wounded by violence and oppression and abuse, it is only through collaboration, mutuality, and an openness to understand- 64.1 2005 Foley * Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church ing and abiding with each other that we can prevent vio-lence and become true collaborators in God's reign. Notes t For help on this article, I am grateful especially to Professors Stephen Bevans SVD and Robert Schreiter CPPS of Catholic Theological Union and to my Capuchin brother Patrick McSherry. 2 Analecta OFM Cap (2002): 338-342. 3 Jerome Hanley, "Beyond the Tip of the Iceberg," Reaching Today's Youth 3, no. 2 (1999): 10. 4 See M.M. Gordon, Assimilation in American life (New York: Oxford University Press, 1964). s Visweswaran Kamala, Fictions of Feminist Ethnography (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994), p. 127, as cited in Ravneet Tiwana, "Hyphenated Identities and the Space 'In- Between': Construction of the Sikh-American Identity." http://depart-ments. oxy.edu/anthropology(31.xii.03). 6 J.M. Bennett, "Multiculturalism and International Education: Domestic and International Differences," in Learning across Cultures, ed. Gary Althen (Washington D.C.: National Association of International Educators, 1994), pp. 157-158. 7 See Jean Phinney, "Ethnic Identity in Adolescents and Adults: Review of Research," Psychological Bulletin 108, no. 3 (1990): 501- 502. s See K.A. Noels, G. Pon, and R. Clement, "Language, Identity, and Adjustment: The Role of Linguistic Self-Confidence in the Acculturation Process," Journal of Language and Social Psychology 15, no. 3 (1996): 246-264. 9 This is an intentional move from the term "acculturation," used by social scientists, to "inculturation," used by theologians. ~0 Jung Young Lee, The Trinity in Asian Perspective (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), pp. 33-34. ** See the stories of "hyphenation" as 'an exploration of grace in Peter Phan and Jung Young Lee, eds., Journeys at the Margin: Toward an Autobiographical Theology in Asian-American Perspective (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1999). ,2 See Jung Young Lee, Marginality: The Key to Multicultural Theology (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995). ,3 See Inga Jasinskaja-Lahti, "On a Way toward Integration: Russian-Speaking Immigrant Adolescents in Finland." http:// www.utu.fi(15.xii.03). Review for Religious 14 See John Huels, "Concelebration," in Disputed Questions in the Liturgy Today (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1988), pp. 39-45. ,5 This is a conservative estimate (9.i.04). ~6 Virgilio Elizondo, The Future Is Mestizo (Oak Park: Meyer-Stone Books, 1988). ~7 Third Plenary Council of the Capuchin Order (Mattli, 1978), The Path of Renewal: The Documents of the Five Plenary Councils and the First Assembly of the Order of Capuchin Friars Minor, ed. Regis Armstrong, p. 44. ,8 Letter of John Paul II to John Corriveau (18 September 1996) as cited in Analecta OFM Cap 112, nos. 3-4 (1996): 566. ~9 Though some speak of "multiple religious belonging," we opt for "double religious belonging." As Claude Geffr~ explains, multiple religious belonging is a postmodern form of syncretism in which con-sumers consider the living religions as supermarkets from which they choose. It is "believing without belonging," with little attention to "the credibility of this or that belief, its necessary connection to this or that religious system, and its incompatibility with other beliefs. The only criterion is the enhancement of my being and most inti-mate potentialities." See "Double Belonging and the Originality of Christianity as a Religion," in Many Mansions? Multiple Religious Belonging and Christianity, ed. Catherine Cornille (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 2002), p. 94. 20 See Catherine Cornille, "The Dynamics of Multiple Belonging," in Many Mansions? p. 1. 2~ Jan Van Bragt, "Multiple Religious Belonging of the Japanese People," in Many Mansions? p. 8. 22 Peter Phan, "Multiple Religious Belonging," Theological Studies 64 (2003): 498. 23 Geffr~, "Double Belonging," p. 102. 24 Phan, "Multiple," pp. 498 and 504. 2s Jacques Dupuis, "Christianity and Religions: Complementarity and Convergence," in Many Mansions? p. 64. 26 Sung-Hae Kim, "An East Asian Understanding of Mission," in Mission in the Third Millennium, ed. Robert Schreiter (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 2001), pp. 16-17. 27 Dupuis, "Christianity," p. 65. 28 See Claude Marie Barbour, "Seeking J~astice and Shalom in the City," International Review of Mission 73 (1984): 305. The Third Plenary Council of the Order (Mattli, 1978) affirmed this notion of "reverse mission" in Path of Renewal, p. 61. 64.1 2005 Foley ¯ Mixed Communities' Gift to the Church 29 Capuchin Constitutions 84:2; see 145:3,157:4, 162:1,175:2,175:4. 30 See Leo Lefebure, "Sacred Violence and Interreligious conflict: The Background of a Tragedy," Chicago Studies 41, no. 1 (2002): 8- 25. 31 Ren~ Gerard, Violence and the Sacred, trans. Patrick Gregory (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1977). 32 R. Scott Appleby, The Ambivalence of the Sacred: Religion, Violence, and Reconciliation (Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield, 2000), pp. 81- 120. 33 John Cobb, "Multiple Religious Belonging and Reconciliation," in Many Mansions? p. 25. 34 Many of these are chronicled in Luigi Accattoli, When a Pope Asks Forgiveness: The Mea Culpas of John Paul II, trans. Jordan Aumann (Boston: Pauline Books and Media, 1998). The book could not include more recent papal gestures such as the 12 March 2000 ceremony in Rome calling for forgiveness for the sins committed by members of the church, and the May 2001 trip to Athens, where the pope asked for forgiveness for sins against Orthodox Christians. 3s Robert Schreiter, Reconciliation: Mission and Miniswy in a Changing Social Order (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1992), pp. 45-46 and 52-53. 36 While John Cobb does not think that "multiple belongers" can lead the reconciliation process, I think he overlooks the iconic role of such believers in that process. See Cobb, "Multiple," pp. 26-27. 37 Dean R. Hoge, The First Five Years of the Priesthood: A Study of Newly Ordained Catholic Priests (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2002), p. 28. cloister space curves softly into silence here a solitude like trees becomes the smooth line of bench or table even the edge of longing breathes a blessing curving back into flesh and bone Lou Ella Hickman IWBS Review for Religious COLLEEN VOGT Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament Prayer has been described as "an exercise in dialogue with a deity that holds simultaneously great hope and immeasurable risks.''1 Christians, at least popularly, are taught to ask for what we need and to praise God for what we are given, bearing pain and pleasure just the same, as God's will. While there is, of course, value to prayer in a "Thy will be done" stance, we lose much if we cannot hold God accountable for our suffering as our Israelite ancestors did. Walter Brueggemann articulates well this "costly loss of lament." 2 This paper addresses a loss of lament and suggests that lectio divina can show how one might "inhabit the psalms of lament,''3 in particular Psalm 69, and thus enter into dialogue with God while feeling pain and anger. Costly Loss of Lament Much in today's world calls for lament: violence and war, our complicity in social sin, Colleen Vogt has a graduate degree in divinity and is in ini-tial formation at Mount St. Benedict Monastery; 6101 East Lake Road; Erie, Pennsylvania 1651 I. biblical helps 64.1 2005 Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament slander of one another, and even petty disagreements. We need to be able to bring such laments to prayer not only in petition and confession to be rid of them, but also from the very midst of our feelings of anger and anguish. Without lament in our prayer and worship, we live an impoverished relationship with God. We lose an element of authenticity in our prayer if we do not honestly face our faith's bewilderment at evil that still exists when God is all good and all powerful. Prophets offer us examples. Jeremiah speaks of being overpowered by God (Jr 20:7). If he does not take up this concern of his with God, he cannot grow in his relationship. Brueggemann suggests object-relations theory about mothers and their children as a parallel, but any human relationship can show this human concern for authenticity. When people feel trampled upon, they must speak up or risk not being a full person in relation to the other. As Brueggemann says, "the absence of lament makes a religion of coercive obedience the only possibility.''4 A pattern of coerced obedience is likely to think "If I am suffering, it must be God's will, and 'his will be done'" without us liking it, and in fact smothering some truth. At this point we need not become violent or abusively assertive, but we can ask for respect. Lament leads to asking questions of theodicy. By lamenting we express that all is not well with the world, that this state of affairs is changeable, and that it seems to be God's responsibility to change the situation. Just to form this thought has a benefit all by itself. Brueggemann points out that Jeremiah seems happy simply in the hope of having his say, without expecting anything to change: "You will be in the right, O Lord, when I lay charges against you, but let me put my case to you" (Jr 12:1, NRSV throughout). Jonah, however, clearly expects God to respond. He asserts that God has "cast [him] into the Review for Religious deep" and declares as an accomplished fact that God brought him back up from the pit (2:3-6). God is the one responsible for his downfall and the one who can restore him. "Deliverance belongs to the Lord" (Ion 3:9). The ancients reasoned that in a world without an evil God, and ruled over by an all-powerful God, if something is wrong it must be because of God. Speaking to God about this, or "holding God against God," is risky, but it allows one to continue.5 Otherwise, without admitting one's true feelings of lament, one could not truly express praise as a free person: "praise can retain its authenticity and naturalness only in polarity with lamentation." 6 If we admit this need for lament, how do we go about restoring it? There are a number of ways in our tradition. I suggest lectio divina as a help to inhabiting a lament psalm prayerfully. Lectio Divina Several recent books introduce lectio divina in an accessible manner. They provide slighdy different ways of prayerfully reading the Bible (or some other text). The following is an amalgamation of these sources and my own experience. Lectio: reading. What does the text say? What do the words actually say? Also, what is its literary or historical setting? One may read several translations or glance at the accompanying notes. Cross-references may provide insight into the text at hand. For those familiar with Scripture, connections may occur of their own accord. Lectio divina is not the time for more extensive research. Meditatio: meditation. One explores the text further, making room for it in our hearts. What word or phrase stands out? By focusing on short sections, we have time to mull things over. We may learn small parts by heart, to help our heart to become more involved.7 We reflect 64.1 200Y Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament prayerfully, drawing personal meaning from the text.8 We trust in the grace of God to lead us. These first two .steps are closely tied to each other and are similar to what I learned about exegesis as a theology What happens in us we trust in the gra ce of God to lead us? student. Lectio, however, is private prayer, and exegesis seeks more universal and communal insights. It is best not to double up and intermingle these two practices.9 Oratio: prayer. Once we have become familiar with the text, we are ready to relate it to our life. Perhaps the words invoke our deepest desire; they may help us find meaning in suffering. They may have reminded us of others who need our compassion. Other words, too, may come to mind at this moment in a prayerful way. Contemplatio: contemplation. Here, more or less beyond words, one sits in the presence of God. During prayer these stages are not always clearly delineated, but they have a general movement toward contemplatio. Often one reads slowly and mindfully until a word or phrase catches one's attention or tugs at one's heart. Then one pauses for a shorter or longer time. Vv'hen attention wanes, one returns to the same text or moves on.|° Lectio and a Psalm of Lament Let us now apply this to a psalm. I chose a psalm because, as a postulant in a Benedictine community, I look to know them more deeply and because the "psalms invite us to be honest." ~ They give us scriptural language to express and transform deep and dark emotions such as anger, self-righteou.sness, and sorrow. And I have come to appreciate the special relationship between the psalms Review for Religious and lectio. Bernard of Monte Cassino says, "In psalmody we speak to God, in lectio God speaks to us through the Scriptures. In the first we ask him about things, and in the second we understand the answer." 12 Lectio/Meditatio I put these two steps together to bring some exegesis to the prayerful reading, for it can provide enrichment. When one has great familiarity with Scripture, a kind of exegesis arises spontaneously in prayer, but beginners can use help in making connections and understanding the psalms' literary style. In Psalm 69 there are many graphic images: "waters have come up to my neck," more enemies "than the hairs of my head," poison and vinegar for food and drink, and enemies "blotted out of the book of the living." These give readers pause and invite them to react. The images of distress may stir compassion for the psalmist or a memory of having felt like that. One may think of examples of unjust sufferers: prophets of the gospel, persons falsely accused of crimes, the church itself, or Jesus, the ultimate innocent suffering servant. The strong curses may evoke immediate resistance because Christians should "love your enemies"--or perhaps agreement with the vindictive sentiment as personal enemies come to mind. But any of these reactions may signal that God is trying to say something to our heart. The reactions may be invitations from God to go deeper. They may suggest that we pause and ponder. What is God saying through this text? Alternate translations may help. The words quoted above from the New Revised Standard Version are almost the same as those in the New American Bible, except that "poison" becomes "gall." Are there cross-references provided for this text? This is, in fact, the psalm most quoted in the ~4.1 2005 Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament Cursing enemies is a difficult_.th ei one with which many modern ,Christians are uncomfortabie. What is my res ponse? New Testament.13 "Gall and vinegar" appears in the Gospel accounts and in Romans 15:3 and Hebrews 11:26. Verse 25 about a camp made desolate is used in Acts 1:20 to refer to Judas. Revelation 3:5 mentions "the book of life" of verse 28 (and elsewhere in the Hebrew Scriptures). Seeing the psalmist's words reinterpreted on Jesus' lips in the Gospels or used in explaining theological concepts in Paul's letters brings new levels of meaning. Christological interpretation of the psalms is very much a part of the patristic tradition. Biblical notes and commentaries offer background information on several phrases and themes. The "deep waters" of verse 2 suggest the chaos engulfing the earth itself along with this innocent person. In the praise at the end, even the sea, which was a threat in the beginning, offers its praise to God. The water reference could also refer to a river ordeal, a trial by water to test the innocence of a person.14 This ancient practice was revisited in European medieval and American colonial witch trials. Praise as a sacrifice or offering to God is another theme in this psalm. This usage helps scholars to date this psalm. Because verses 30-31 say that a song of praise is worth more than an animal (or grain) sacrifice, the psalm is probably exilic or postexilic; there is no temple in which to offer sacrifices.~5 Prophets and psalmists determine that God does not want animals ("Do I eat the flesh of bulls or drink the blood of goats?" Ps 50:13), but prefers people's obedience and songs of praise instead. Cursing enemies is a difficult theme, one with which many modern Christians are uncomfortable. The strong Review for Reli~ous words are frequendy omitted from the lectionary cycles even when the rest of the psalm appears. They are sometimes excised from communal prayer. But it is important to understand this literary device in its context. Hebrew is a particularly metaphoric and graphic language. Though desires for punishment are certainly expressed, the words are not all meant literally,16 nor are the psalmist's words a decree of punishment--this is no vigilante justice seeker. In the Israelite understanding, the curse was only to be effective upon God's judgment that the person was indeed guilty. This was helpful to Israel as a people without a modern justice system as we know it. This is the reasoning behind trials by ordeal. If God finds guilt in someone, he or she will die. This practice is not in accord with modern thought and sensibilities, but, in many cases, allowing God to do the punishing is an idea needed as much today as ever. Many a lawsuit or personal vendetta might be prevented if those involved brought their laments to God and left the case in the hands of divine justice. Another relevant aspect of cursing is that there is indeed evil in the world that needs to be exorcized. Though the Israelite understanding did not easily distinguish between the sin and the sinner or between the individual and the community, we can take a cue from the psalmist and curse the sin, asking God to purify this blot in our community. We can curse an evil on behalf of those who cannot, namely, the victims who have been so dehumanized that they can no longer pray themselves.17 Claus Westermann has noted the following elements in biblical laments: address or introductory petition, lament, turning toward God (confession of trust), petition, and vow of praise.~8 We see them to some extent in this psalm. "Save me, O God" invokes God in verse 1. Then there is a long lament to God over the psalmist's 64.1 200Y Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament 44 situation: false accusations, desertion by friends and family, ridicule for religious practice (vv. 2-12). There is a confident petition to God for help (vv. 13-18). "Answer me, rescue me, let me be delivered," verse 13 cries out. After more lamenting about his sorry situation (vv. 19- 21), the psalmist expresses a desire for God to punish his enemies (vv. 22-28). This cursing is especially graphic and invites us to admit our own inner violence. A final petition for salvation in verse 29 makes way for a song of praise that calls all the earth to praise God (vv. 30-36). This praise ends the mood of sadness and vindictiveness and moves the psalmist to trust that God will make salvation known by vindicating him in the here and now. Westermann offers another helpful observation. Three subjects or characters have a part in many of the lament psalms: God, the psalmist, and the enemies. Westermann traces the history of the lament psalms by noting the balance between the three subjects. Accusations against God become more and more subtle, perhaps representing a trend like the one we know today of being hesitant to accuse God. As this is. a later psalm, the small accusation against God in verse 17 is couched in restrained terms: "Do not hide your face from your servant"--words that hint that God be not silent or absent.~9 This close and prayerful reading of the psalm helps us see how others prayed this psalm in the past. We understand the situation and the words and phrases better, sharing in the tradition. But we do this in order to communicate with God better, and so we turn now to oratio and contemplati0. Oratio Looking again at the text, we pray it with new eyes and a new heart. Perhaps, by God's grace, we are inhabiting the psalm, or perhaps the word dwells in us. Review for Religious God spoke to us as we came to understand the psalm more deeply. Now we speak to God as we understand our own relation to the psalm. We pray as the innocent sufferer, declaring anger at God (a little) and at enemies and problems (a lot). We trust in God to restore our fortunes, sure that it will happen. We may repeat our prayer, perhaps going deeper. More understanding may come, or more earnest petition. At some point this dialogue is finished, and we are left without words, or "we read under the eye of God until the heart is touched and leaps to flame.''2° Contemplatio We may image contemplation as gazing at God or just being in God's presence.21 No deep searching of our own into the text can force this. Our reflection on the text is mere preparation, tilling the soil and watering the seeds. It is God who brings forth the fruit of the land and the fruits of contemplation. We move forward, changed by this encounter with God through the word of God. We ha~e followed the traditional lectio model for expressing and transforming deep emotions. By inhabiting the words and the world of the psalmist, we are brought into relationship with our tradition and with God. We go forward by witnessing to the Word as committed Christians, in a stage one writer calls operatio.22 Notes ~ Samuel E. Balentine, Prayer in the Hebrew Bible: The Drama of Divine-Human Dialogue (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), p. 168. 2 Walter Brueggemann, "The Costly Loss of Lament," in his The Psalms and the Life of Faith (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995). 3 Michael JinkJns, In the House of the Lord: Inhabiting the Psalms of Lament (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1998). 4 Brueggemann, "Costly Loss," p. 104. 64.1 200Y Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament s Balentine, Prayer, p. 146. 6 Claus Westermann, Praise and Lament in the Psalms, trans. Keith R. Crim and Richard N. Soulen (Atlanta:John Knox Press, 1981), p. 267. 7 Mariano Magrassi, Praying the Bible: An Introduction to Lectio Divina, trans. Edward Hagman (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1998), p. 109. 8 Thelma Hall, 7bo Deep for Words: Rediscovering Lectio Divina (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 9. 9 Michael Casey, Sacred Reading: The Ancient Art of Lectio Divina (Liguori, Mo.: Triumph Books, 1996), p. 80. 10 Charles Cummings, Monastic Practices (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1986), p. 8. 11 Elizabeth Canham, Praying the Bible (Cincinnati: Forward Movement Publications, 2001), p. 33. 12 Quoted in Columba Stewart, Prayer and Community: The Benedictine Tradition, Traditions of Christian Spirituality, ed. Philip Sheldrake (Maryknolh Orbis Books, 1998), p. 34. 13 Carroll Stuhhnueller CP, "Psalms," in HarperCollins Bible Commentary (rev. ed.), ed. James Mayes (HarperSanFrancisco, 2000), p. 420. 14 John Kselman and Michael Barrd, "Psalms," in New Jerome Biblical Commentmy (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1990), p. 537. 15 Kselman and Barrd, "Psalms," p. 537. 16 Stuhlmueller, "Psalms," p. 420. 17 Stuhlmueller, "Psalms," p. 420. is Westermann, Praise, p. 170. 19 Westermann, Praise, pp. 169, 170, and 181. 20 Dom Marmion, cited in Hall, 7b0 Deep for Words, p. 44. 21 Hall, 7bo Deep for Words, p. 9. 22 Mario Masini, Lectio Divina: An Ancient Prayer That Is Ever New, trans. Edmund C. Lane (New York: Alba House, 1998), p. ix. Prayer / Reflection Let us use the fourfold traditional approach of reading, meditation, prayer, and contemplation as we enter into Psalm 69. Review for Religious In the Spirit of Psalm 69 Come and save me, O God, for the floodwaters rise, and my body has sunk in the depths of the mire; There is no footing left in this bottomless pit, which keeps dragging me under to make me expire. I am wearied from weeping and crying aloud, and my throat has dried up like a desert of clay, And my eyes swollen shut are consumed by my tears, while I wait for the Lord and continue to pray. They are numerous, more than the hairs of my head, they who hate me, unjustly, insisting I die; They are many and mighty, who force me to pay what I never did steal, which they claim, but they lie. O my God, you have known all my follies and sins, for my guilt I have never concealed from your sight; I admitted my faults and confessed them to you, and for these you have punished me, that is but right. But that they who have trusted in you, O Lord God, should be shamed, and through me, how could that ever be? How could they who have sought only you be disgraced? God of Israel, never permit it, through me! It was only for you that I suffered reproach, every insult and shame they could throw in my face, Like a stranger to brothers, an exile from home, by the sons of my mother cast out in disgrace. For the zeal of your house had consumed me with fire; these reproaches I bore were intended for you; When I wept for my sins and I fasted for days, those reproaches were mine, and the insults were true. I repented my ways, put on sackcloth for clothes, 64.1 2005 Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament and became like a fool for my sins which I grieved; How the mouths in the marketplace laughed me to scorn, and the drunkards reviled me with songs they con-ceived. But for my part, I sought only you, O Lord God! Come and favor mb now, come and answer my prayer! O my God, in your greatness, be tender and kind! Come and show me you love, show me how much you care! Let your faithfulness come to my aid even now, lest I sink ever deeper and deeper in mire; Let my enemy fail, as you rescue my life from the bottomless waters before I expire. Let the waters abate and not sweep me away; let the ocean not cover and choke me to death; Let the depths not rise up and then swallow me down, nor the grave close around me and smother my breath. Hear and answer me, Lord, in your bountiful love, all the mercy and goodness befitting your grace; Turn your face to me, gently, with deepest concern; take me into your arms with your fondest embrace. Turn your face not away from your servant in need, but have pity and answer me quickly instead; Draw me closer and closer to you, O my God, as you ransom me back from the fate of the dead. You have known all my shame, my abuse, my disgrace, the reproaches which crushed me and wasted my soul; This disease has consumed me and broken my l~eart, and my spirit, now helpless, has lost all control. When I looked for somebody to comfort my pain, there was no one With mercy or pity around; Wh6n I looked for consolers to share in my grief, Review for Religiou~ there was no one who cared, there was none to be ¯ found. But they poisoned my food and they sickened my thirst, when they gave me the dregs of their wineskins to drink; May their tables be turned into deathtraps for them, their companions, the pits which they fall in and sink. May their eyes grow too dim and distorted to see, and their thighs never cease from convulsing with fear; May you pour out your just indignation on them, and in fury destroy all the things they hold dear. May their camps be deserted like desolate wastes, no inhabitants left who could live in their tents, For the one you have wounded, they wounded the more, with their slanderous stories of sins he repents. Take account of the crime upon crime they commit, lest they enter your meadow, the pasture you tend; May their names be erased from the record of life, with the just be not listed in life without end. As for me, in my pain and affliction, 0 God, be my help and my bulwark of strength from on high; Only let me sing praise to the Name of the Lord and give thanks for His glory extolled to the sky. For what pleases the Lord, more than oxen or bulls, with their horns and their hoofs, is. the praise of His Name! So, take courage, you faithful ones who are oppressed, and your heart will rejoice in the God you proclaim! For the Lord in His love hears the cry of the poor, and He never forsakes those who cry out in need; They are bound unto Him who created their lives, who has bound Himself to them, His creatures, to feed. 64.1 200~ Vogt ¯ Reclaiming the Prayer of Lament Let the heavens declare it, their God is the Lord! Let the earth sing His praise for its life that He gives! Let the sea that is full of the creatures He feeds praise the Name of the Lord, their Creator, who lives! Know that God will save Zion and bring exiles home! They shall dwell in the cities of Judah restored! Know the seed of His servants inherit the land, all who love Him and trust in the Name of the Lord! Joseph E. Brown SJ, Jesus Sings the Psalms in Your Heart (1980) YO Review for Religious MATTHIAS NEUMAN The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey Tena lB sipbilreit huaasl lpilvaeyse odf a C vaatrhieotlyic o Cf hrorilsetsi ainn st hthe rpoeurg-h the centuries. In the immediate pre-Vatican II church, the Bible had little impact on ordinary Catholic spiritu-ality; Mary, the saints, and popular devotions held the dominant places. The Bible was certainly revered as a source of religious truth, and many good Catholic homes had a family Bible, but not many Catholics read it reg-ularly for their own spiritual nourishment and their rela-tionship with God. Students in my theology classes over the past twenty years--who have been mostly of the post-Vatican II generation--are amazed to learn that the Bible seldom played a direct role in the religious forma-tion of their parents and grandparents. Since the coun-cil the Bible enjoys a larger role in everyday spirituality, but usages still vary widely among Catholics. Matthias Neuman OSB last wrote for us in 1997. His address is 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. 64.1 200Y Neuman * The Role, of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey In a course called "The Documents of the Second Vatican Council," one assignment I give is to conduct a number of personal interviews, some with Catholics who lived through the years of the council and can remember the pre-Vatican II days and some with persons born after the council. A key question of the interviews concerns the role of the Bible in the personal spiritual life of the respondents. Their answers range widely, but three groups typically appear. One comprises those Catholics who still have little.awareness of the Bible, who do not read it even occasionally or consider it a guide for their own spiritual lives. (Many of these same people can make little sense of the lectionary readings at Mass.) A second group reads the Bible in a fundamentalist way. It func-tions in their lives about the same as it does in the lives of Protestant fundamentalists--as the literal source of all religious truth. Their interpretation of many passages tends to be simplistic. A third group consists of Catholics who have developed a significant and balanced practice of Bible reading. Scripture functions in their lives as a source of spiritual direction and nourishment. Other variations could be identified, but these three suffice to show what a complex situation exists among the Catholic faithful with regard to the Bible and its role in their lives. In this article I want to explore the connections between a prayerful reading of Scripture and the appli-cation of that reading to a person's spiritual life journey. My intent is to get at a number of ways in which the "meanings" in the Bible help people set and seek their spiritual goals and make practical decisions. Beginning with a historical overview of the Bible's role in Catholic spirituality through the ages, I move to the church's cur-rent teaching on Bible reading as a personal spiritual practice. In a final section I suggest some specific ways the Bible can guide a person's spiritual journey. Review for Religious The Bible in Catholic Spiritual Life through the Centuries Private Bible reading was not much encouraged throughout much of Catholic Christian history. Vatican II stands as a refreshing new beginning in this regard. Make no mistake--the Bible has always been crucial to the Catholic Christian tradition, all the way back to the 2nd century, when the various books of the New Testament began to be collected. But the Bible was usu-ally seen as the source of authentic religious truth for the church as a whole, rather than as reading material for individuals. In the liturgy the "meaning" of the Scriptures that were read or sun'g was usually "given" through the spoken word of the preacher. Personal read-ing for meaning and application seldom occurred. There were, of course, exceptions. In the 3rd and 4th centuries, the Egyptian desert monks used the Book of Psalms as a "manual of conversion." The individual monks wanted their reading to effect a gradual conver-sion of their raging emotions, a principal goal of theirs. The practice of lectio divina that developed later, in cenobitic life, continued and broadened this application of the Bible to the monks' personal lives, but the prac-tice was not widespread in the church.1 A second excep-tion was the use of Scripture in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola. Scenes from the Bible served as start-ing points for many of his exercises. But here again the practice was confined to limited numbers of directors and retreatants. Over the centuries, of course, personal reading of the Bible was encouraged by particular spir-itual directors. In the late 6th century, St. Gregory the Great, in his letters, often recommended the reading of Sacred Scripture to his correspondents? But these peo-ple were generally wealthy persons who could afford manuscript copies of a book or books of the Bible. This 64.1 2005 Neuman * The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey luxury precluded its use by the general populace until the invention of printing in the 15th century. Before then, not many individuals or families possessed a Bible. The cost was prohibitive. An entire parish con-gregation might have only one copy of the Sacred Scriptures (usually locked up, except for services, or chained to the lectern). When the printing press began to make books more affordable in the early 16th century, the strong connection seen between printed books and the "private interpretation" of the Protestant Reformation made Catholic leaders try to limit Bible reading while Protestant leaders--with numerous Bibles printed in the vernacular languages--encouraged the reading of the Bible by everyone. The famous Catechism of the Council of Trent or Roman Catechism (1564) made no mention at all of reading the Bible as a spiritual practice for Catholics.3 In short, good Protestants read the Bible; good Catholics did not, for it could lead to doctrinal or moral error. Another change had been gradually happening in post-Reformation Catholic circles that also moved atten-tion further away from the Bible. As Catholic leaders became increasingly concerned with "correct doctrine and teaching," catechisms became the primary ways to teach people the true faith. Moreover, since some of those Catholic teachings (on the priesthood, the seven sacraments, and the Roman primacy, for example) were not clearly apparent in the Bible itself, catechisms became the immediate basis of instruction, without, of course, claiming to replace the Bible. In the long period between the close of the Council of Trent (1563) and the opening of the Second Vatican Council (1962), Catholics were sometimes counseled against reading the Bible personally. A New Perspective The Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation Review for Reli~ous (Dei Verbum) of Vatican II stands, therefore, as a strikingly new statement of the Catholic Church. It encourages ordinary believers to read the Bible regularly for their spiritual nourishment. Chapter 6, "Sacred Scripture in the Life of the Church" (§§21-26), forged a new direc-tion for Catholic spirituality. How that chapter came to be is an amazing story.4 The preliminary schema of the constitution contained warnings about laypersons read-ing the Bible. They were reminded to approach the sacred text with the church's teaching in mind and with careful preparation. They were to be ready to accept willingly any definite assertions of meaning the magis-terium made about individual passages.5 There was no mention of personal.spiritual nourishment. Two factors seem to have brought about the radical shift that occurred in the writing of this chapter of the document. The first was the comments and testimony of several Protestant observers about their own personal and communal church experiences of Bible reading and the many spiritual benefits it brought to people/The second factor was a principle from the patristic era, one that had slipped out of modern Catholic awareness, the strong parallelism between Sacred Scripture and the Eucharist. Several Catholic theologians had persuasively brought this idea to the committee's attention. In the end the drafting committee included a strong encour-agement of Scripture reading for believers' personal spir-itual benefit. This decision ranks as one of the major achievements of the council. Let us review this pivotal chapter, "Sacred Scripture in the Life of the Church."7 It begins by noting that Scripture along with Tradition is the supreme rule of the church's faith (§21). But then the text goes on to assert that the word of God also serves as "strength for faith, food for the soul, and a pure and lasting fount of 64.1 200~ Neuman ¯ The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey spiritual life" (§21). This reading is for all believers. "Access to Sacred Scripture ought to be wide open to the Christian faithful" (§22). There are no restrictions. This practice is not limited to the clergy and to scholars, but is for everyone. Church leaders are to see that ade-quate translations in vernaculhr languages are available for the faithful (§22). Preachers, patristics schol-ars, exegetes, hnd catechists are to help people under-stand God's word (§23). The ordinary faithful them-selves are encouraged to pick up the Bible and read: "Let them go gladly to the sacred text itself, whether in the sacred liturgy, which is full of the divine words, or in devout reading, or in suitable programs and various other helps" (§2 5). Here the council fathers begin claim-ing Scripture reading as a spiritual practice for the Catholic Church. This section of Dei Verbum ranks among the more important of the council's pastoral decisions, because it led to many changes in the practical spiritual life of the church. Soon after the council, dioceses and publishing houses began to develop "biblical study programs" for groups and parishes. Interest in these programs ran high and gave many lay Catholics their first real familiarity with the sacred texts. Renew, the Little Rock Bible Study, the Paulist Press Bible program, and other endeavors began to make the Catholic faithful better acquainted with the Old and New Testaments as a resource for liv-ing their faith. Small neighborhood groups started meet-ing regularly to read and discuss the Bible. The spiritual How do We experience, preachers, patristics scholars, exegeteS, and catechists helping people under tand God's word? Review for Religious lives of innumerable Catholics were deeply affected by these developments. Almost thirty years after the council, the Pontifical Biblical Commission issued a document to assist such developments. Although this document, The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, is intended primarily for schol-ars, it has several pages that are relevant to us.8 Its sec-tion IV, "The Interpretation of the Bible in the Life of the Church," advances beyond Dei Verbum. First, it iden-tifies a specific purpose of reading the Scriptures spiri-tually, a purpose it calls "actualization." Actualization means putting the meaning of the Bible into action as a value or norm of behavior. It is not sufficient to read the Bible and merely understand its meanings; those mean-ings must begin to make a difference in how the reader perceives, judges, and acts as a believing Christian. Second, actualization presupposes a correct exegesis (explanation) of the text, part of which is the determin-ing of the literal sense--what the historical writers intended to communicate in their time, place, and cul-ture. Rejected here is any literary theory or assumption that the only real meaning is what the text immediately means to each reader. There is, however, a recognition that every text contains more meanings than the literal one; the richness of a written text is not limited by the lit-eral sense alone.9 This richness is part of the spiritual guidance of Sacred Scripture. The document recom-mends especially the Scriptural texts used in the liturgy as excellent for both personal and communal reflection. Finally, the document promotes the ancient monas-tic practice of lectio divina (divine reading), which is "a reading, on an individual or communal level, of a more or less lengthy passage of Scripture, received as the word of God and leading, at the prompting of the Spirit, to meditation, prayer, and contemplation.''~° We have come 64.1 200Y Neuman * The Role of Scripture on tbe Spiritual Journey a long way from the wariness of pre-Vatican II days, with its warnings about the dangers of false interpretation. Applying the Bible's Meanings to Personal Life We can now proceed to three specific ways of read-ing Sacred Scripture as nourishment or companion on our personal spiritual journeys. The first way is to exam-ine and apply the large patterns and themes which the books of the Bible offer. This knowledge can guide or challenge us into new areas of faithful Christian living. Sometimes these patterns will be quite obvious, for exam-ple, Job's struggle with God's justice. Sometimes a sec-ondary book can help us get off to a good start on one or another biblical theme. Andrew Ryder's Follo~ving Christ: Models of Discipleship in the New Testament can help us discover the various ways in which the following of Christ is depicted .in the New Testament and might be pursued today.~ Afterwards we will be ready to read and understand various suggested passages of Scripture more carefully. I have used this book in spiritual-direction ses-sions; it has helped people find a pattern of discipleship that fits their own life circumstances. In Matthew's Gospel, discipleship is expressed in community building; a beginning parish minister found in that Gospel a sense of direction for his spiritual jour-ney. Luke's Gospel sees discipleship more as an individ-ual stance in a large society; a young adult new to a large city reflected and prayed over that Gospel as a welcome way of maintaining strong faith in an unfamiliar setting. Another example of large Scriptural patterns guiding people's faith would be the contrasting Christologies of the Gospels of Mark and John. For those with too "divine" an image of Jesus, reading Mark slowly and meditating on its descriptions of Jesus' weaknesses and struggles can help towards appreciating the full down-to- Review for Religious earth humanness of Jesus (3:20-30; 6:1-6; 7:14-23; 8:16- 21; 11:12-21). On the other hand, John's Gospel will definitely strengthen people's view of the divine nature of Jesus and his mission (1:1-18; 5:1-47; 6:35-58). Various attitudes toward "law" are reflected in the writings of Paul and Matthew. For people struggling to overcome a paralyzing sense of law, Paul's letter to the Galatians high-lights Christian freedom, especially 5:13-26. That passage was of great importance in my own spiritual maturation as I began theology studies. On the other hand, peo-ple who need a deeper appreciation of the place of law in Christian life can benefit from sustained reflec-tion on the Gospel of Matthew (5:17-20; 12:1-13; 15:1-14; 19:16-24). Sometimes struggles dealing with anger, espe-cially towards God, are a problem. Reading the sections of Jeremiah called "Jeremiah's confessions" (11:18-12:6; 15:10-21; 17:14-18; 18:18-23; 20:7-13; 20:15-18) assist people to see how anger can change into improved prayer. One advantage of large Scriptural patterns and var-ious contrasts is that they can help Christians to be more sensitive to the differences in people's spiritual lives. Today many legitimate spiritualities exist in the church, many ways of actualizing the gospel in one's life. Instead of acting like competitors, all can benefit from a healthy exchange of ideas and practices. To acknowledge and cel-ebrate these differences and similarities remains an ongo-ing challenge for everyone in our variously pluralistic church. 64.1 2005 Neuman * The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey A second method of reading the Bible personally uses individual passages as answers to personal questions or as directives for daily living. Christian history provides many examples of this. In late-3rd-century Egypt the young man Anthony, hearing in church the words "If you would be perfect, go sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven" (Mt 19:21), took them as addressed directly to himself. Thereupon he sold his many belongings and took up the life of an ascetic. Over a century later another famous African, Augustine of Hippo, torn by internal turmoil, picked up Paul's Letter to the Romans and read: ". not in riots and drunken parties, not in eroticism and indecencies, not in strife and rivalry, but put on the Lord Jesus Christ and make no provision for the flesh in its lusts" (13:13-14). He describes its effect on him: "At once, with the last words of this sentence, it was as if a light of relief from all anxiety flooded into my heart. All the shadows of doubt were dispelled." 12 This method is often used in modern Catholic retreat practice. Individuals or groups are assigned a passage for them to reflect on and pray over, listening for how it "speaks" to them. The contemporary spirituality movement Focolare makes a monthly practice of reflection on a specified Bible passage. Some potential problems with this method need to be addressed. People may take the ideas that come from these passages as special divine messages, divine answers to some difficulty of theirs. Such interpretations need to be balanced with other factors: discussion with a spir-itual director, prayerful reflection, practical "testing," and so forth. People need to be cautious of "absolute" interpretations, taking them as God's direct inspiration. Some of Benedict Groeschel's guidelines for evaluating "private revelations" would apply: (1) Keep all claims of Review for Religious revelations in perspective; (2) no private revelation comes directly from God and therefore none can be assumed to be inerrantly true; (3) a private revelation by definition is personal and therefore must be carefully applied and must never be considered an infallible guide in any sit-uation.~ 3 Still, this use of Scripture can be beneficial. Biblical quotations often grace calendars, diaries, and notebooks. Using them as thoughts for the day or week or month can be a helpful spiritual practice. A third method of using the Bible for personal spir-itual nourishment is lectio divina. For years lectio divina was seen as a uniquely monastic spiritual practice. In recent decades it has come to be used widely in the church. The document mentioned earlier, The Interpre-tation of the Bible in the Church, encourages all Catholics to consider lectio divina as a way of reading the Sacred Scriptures.~4 The lectio divina of the monastic tradition differs from "spiritual reading," as a practice of the 16th and 17th centuries came to be known. Spiritual reading has meant a "set time" for reading a variety of religious books. Its primary purpose is religious information. Lectio divina means an in-depth reading of the Scriptures that challenges readers to personal conversion. The text is read slowly, more than once, and its meanings are mulled over in an effort to see their application to one's life. Lectio divina demands unbiased and receptive read-ing. It demands prayer and concentration. Focused atten-tion demands discipline of body and mind, and one prays for honesty, openness, and insight and for the grace to bring them into one's daily practice. The Bible has always been the favored material for everyone's lectio divina, but that does not mean it is an impersonal generic record. The books of the Bible are the word of God, but also are the faith accounts of real men and women, and so lectio divina is a unique form of 64.1 2005 Neuman ¯ The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual :yourney listening. The reader continually asks: What do these particular words coming down to me from these partic-ular people say to me? Those spiritual experiences are allowed to challenge my own. My faith is confronted with the faith of another, and in that encounter I may glimpse my own need for conversion. As I read St. Paul's words to the Philippians, "I thank my God every time I remember you, constantly praying in every one of my prayers for all of you" (1:3), I am led to explore thank-fulness in my own life. How often do I thank God, even for my best friends? How often do I pray for them? At this point we have arrived at the heart of lectio divina. By these questions in this context, the Christian feels hap-pily invited once again to conversion; God's grace to change for the better is there. A succession of such moments becomes a conversa-tion between the Christian and the Lord, a loving inter-change between ourselves and the Mystery of God, mediated by the faith-filled words of the Bible. Many use the daily lectionary passages for their lectio. In any case this conversation with God should be continued day by day. In it we will find ourselves noticing our motives, the effects our attitudes and actions are having on our-selves and others, and the shape our hopes and dreams are taking. The Second Vatican Council blazed a fine trail for Catholic spirituality by encouraging more reading of the Bible. Many have been following it with enthusiasm, but much remains to be done. The Bible and its many stories and poems of faith have the potential to guide people's faith life amid today's formidable challenges to it. Many need to become more aware of how much they need this treasure trove of Christian tradition for their own peace and happiness. The council says it well: "Such is the force and power of the word of God that it can serve the church Review for Religious as her support and vigor, and the children of the church as strength for their faith, food for their soul, and a pure and lasting fount of their spiritual life" (DV §21). Notes ' Michael Casey, Sacred Reading: The Ancient Art ofLectio Divina (Liguori, 1995); Matthias Neuman OSB, "The Contemporary Spirituality of the Monastic Lectio," Review for Religious 36, no. 1 (January 1977): 97-110. 2 Peter Brown, The Rise of Western Christendom (Cambridge, Mass.: Blackwell Publishers, 1996), p. 137. 3 [Addressed to pastors of parishes, the Roman Catechism (1566) does, however, cite explicitly about a thousand short Scripture pas-sages throughout--somewhat like the references made on pp. 59-60 above--and quietly weaves another thousand biblical allusions into the discourse. There are some twenty-five pages explicidy devoted to prayer and eighty-five more pages on the Our Father, all of them laced with Scripture. Ed.] The ten-year-old Catechism of the Catholic Church devotes eight pages specifically to the importance, place, meaning, and use of Scripture in the church (CCC §§101-141) and seventy-five pages to prayer (§§2558-2865), with considerable Scripture weaving in and out and the Our Father given pride of place as in the Roman Catechism. 4 Stanislas Lyonnet SJ, "A Word on Chapters IV and VI of Dei Verbum: The Amazing Journey Involved in the Process of Drafting the Conciliar Text," in Vatican 11: Assessments and Perspectives, ed. Ren~ Latourelle, Vol. 1 (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 187. s Lyonnet, "Word," pp. 198-199. 6 Lyonnet, "Word," pp. 178-179. 7 Texts of Dei Verbum are taken from Vatican Council 1I: The Conciliar and Post-Conciliar Documents, Vol. 1, ed. Austin Flannery OP, rev. ed. (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). s Pontifical Biblical Commission, The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church (Washington: USCCB, 1994; also in Origins 23, no. 29 [6 January 1994]). 9 This issue is dealt with in detail by Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, The Revelatory Text, 2nd ed. (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, Michael Glazier, 1999). See especially pp. xxx-xxxiv. ,o Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, p. 38 (IV.B.2). II Andrew Ryder, Following Christ: Models of Discipleship in the New Testament (Franklin, Wisconsin: Sheed and Ward, 1999). 64.1 200Y Neuman ¯ The Role of Scripture on the Spiritual Journey ~z Augustine, Confessions, trans. Henry Chadwick (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), p. 153 (Book 8, no. 29). ~3 Benedict Groeschel CFR, ,'I Still Small Vo#e: /1 Practical Guide on Reported Revelations (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1993). ~4 The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, p. 38 (IV.B.2). Prayer Litany to the Holy Spirit Come, Spirit of wisdom, and teach us to value the highest gift. ---Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of understanding, and show us all things in the light of eternity. --Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of counsel, and guide us along the straight and narrow path to our heavenly home. --Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of might, and strengthen us against every evil spirit and interest which would separate us from you. --Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of knowledge, and teach us the shortness of life and the length of eternity. --Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of godliness, and stir up our minds and hearts to love and serve the Lord our God all our days. ~Come, Holy Spirit. Come, Spirit of the fear of the Lord, and make us tremble with awe and reverence before your divine majesty. --Come, Holy Spirit. -Viterbo University-Book of Prayers Review for Religious FREDERICK E. CROWE Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises In the Second Week of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, the grace I ask for in the third prelude of the first contemplation (on the incarnation) is an intimate knowledge of the Lord that I may love him more and follow him better (§104).1 That establishes a pattern. In the next exercise (on the nativity) I make the same petition in the same form (§113). And so throughout the Second Week the grace I ask for is always the same, and is asked for in the same form.2 The aim is to know Christ and so to love him. This is in full harmony with the point that the actions of Christ we have been contemplating were performed for me; the Lord's nativity and all of his sufferings leading to his death on the cross were undergoneJbr me (§116). Love follows on knowledge: to know such self-sacrificing love calls for a return of love. Frederick E. Crowe SJ, a contributor to our pages in 1994, 1999, and 2004, is editor of The Collected Works of Bernard Lonergan. His address is Lonergan Research Institute; 10 St. Mary Street, Suite 500; Toronto, Ontario M4Y 1P9; Canada. making connections 64.1 2005 Crowe * Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises The order from knowledge to love not only stands to rea-son and appeals to our common sense; it is also thoroughly Thomist, possibly reflecting what Ignatius learned at the University of Paris. At any rate, he could easily find this doc-trine in St. Thomas and make it his own. The will, Thomas holds, is a faculty that follows the direction of intellect. Few doctrines of his seem better established than that.3 Its position in Thomist thought is further solidified by its role in Trinitarian theology: as will follows intellect, as decision fol-lows understanding, so the Holy Spirit proceeds from the divine Word.4 No doubt the doctrine is true, central, and important, but it is not the whole truth, nor does Thomism exclude other ways of thinking on this question. One other way, especially, is nowadays coming to the fore. In current literature we repeatedly find a quotation attributed to Pascal: "The heart has reasons that reason does not know," and there has been a growing movement to explore those reasons of the heart that are not reasons in a strictly cognitional sense, and do not depend on prior knowledge. There even is a kindred doctrine in Thomas: what he calls knowledge by connaturality. The context for Thomas was the question whether wisdom resides in the intellect. In response he says that wisdom implies a rectitude of judgment, and that this rectitude can be had in either of two ways: either through the full use of reason.or through a certain connaturality with the matter under judgment. Thomas gives an example. In regard to chastity one person may have right judgment through moral science, but another person who has the habit of chastity may have right judgment through a certain con-naturality with the matter to be judged,s If we turn to Lonergan, we find him remarkably reticent on knowledge by connaturality, at least on knowledge so termed: it is missing from the indices of most of his major works. There is, however, a mention in a late lecture, where Review for Religious he says, "God's gift of his love is the cause of our knowledge of God by connaturality," and adds a reference to Aquinas.6 There is also his interview, again late in life, with Pierre Robert, where Robert brings up for discussion "knowledge of God by connaturality" and Lonergan responds: "[The knowl-edge of God by connaturality] comes about through charity. No created being provides a solid analogy (St. Thomas). There is an order: a wisdom that is sapita (savory) introduces an enlightened goodwill, which yields good practical or theoret-ical judgments.''7 But let us, like good Thomists, avoid slavery to words. Under another heading Lonergan has a full doctrine of his own that achieves the same purpose as knowledge by connaturality, that in fact includes in other terms both knowledge by connaturality and the usual Thomist order. And, because the unity of this twofold pattern could become such an important theme in the science of our spiritual life, and possibly in our practice of the Spiritual Exercises, I will try to Lonergan sees two patterns ff advance in human development, describe it in more detail and in simpler language. The thought of Bernard Lonergan may not be the simplest, but I am familiar with it, and it has the advantage of being a real fac-tor in his spirituality and his theology. The Two Ways of Human Development Lonergan sees two patterns of advance in human devel-opment. 8 I propose to see them first in their unity and con-trast, and then take each by itself. There is a movement from below upwards: from experience through understanding and judgment to decision and the commitment of love, and this is the order of the Ignatian Second Week. But there is also a process from above downwards: from love through commit- 64.1 2005 Crowe * Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises 68 ment and judgment to understanding and enriched experi-ence. This second process gives us knowledge resulting from love, knowledge by connaturality, and it is the more funda-mental and the chronologically prior process. I believe that these two ways of development have much to contribute to a science of Christian spirituality. Do they relate also to the Spiritual Exercises? That is an intriguing question, and the pursuit of an answer is the main task of this essay. We must therefore take a closer look at Lonergan's doc-trine on each of these two ways. The Way from Below Upwards First, the order from below upwards: from experience through understanding and judgment to decision and the com-mitment of love. One simple way to see this "ordinary" way, in its elements and in their coherence, is to think of the "lev-els" of activity in a court case. There are witnesses who bring their experience to the case: what they saw, what they heard, and any relevant experience they had. There are attorneys, at least two of them, with their two different explanations of what the witnesses described; they represent the level of understanding. But understanding is a fickle instrument in the search for truth, and so, third, there are the members of the jury, who have to decide on the truth of the matter: Which attorney is right? Is the accused guilty or innocent? Finally, there is the judge, who not only presides over the whole oper-ation, but must take action, imposing an appropriate sentence or declaring the accused flee. This pattern of four steps, so sharply outlined in a court case, can often be observed in the give-and-take of family life, though there it is obscured by the chaotic flux of conversation. Somewhat more systematic than conversation and less sys-tematic than legal proceedings, this is the pattern we follow in the Second Week. We interrogate the witnesses in the way Ignatius describes: What are they saying? What are they Review for Religious doing? and so on (§107). In this way we come to understand and know our Lord better and, in response, to choose to love him and take appropriate action. In the words of the First Week, anticipating the response of the Second, what have I done for Christ? what ought I do for him? (§53). The Way from Above Downwards The way from below upwards is only half the picture. As time went on and the tableau of the two ways of development became a regular reference in Lonergan, the way from above downwards emerged more and more clearly as the way most of us live our lives. Its beginning is found in children, maybe even more than in adults. It coheres with the role of love in religion and theology. It descends from the gift of God's love through religious conversion to moral conversion, and per-haps-- though this step is more academic than spiritual-- through moral to intellectual conversion. The process from above downwards, thus briefly indi-cated, is not spelled out as fully as the way from below upwards, and so for an integral picture I have to piece together remarks from various places. My procedure is similar to what I believe prospectors for gold do: panning for nuggets and discarding the sand (though the "sand" may in this case have its own value). Lonergan starts as always with the gift of God's love. On our side there is the transformation of falling in love. One no longer is one's own. A life has begun in which the heart has reasons which reason does not know. A new world has opened up. In some kind of analogy, perhaps a rather distant one, this applies also to the Lord Jesus. We have to think of him "as developing from below as other human beings and from above on the analogy of religious development.''9 Here is a sweeping view of the process. Children are born into a cradling environment of love. The process begins in the affectivity of the infant, the child, the son or daughter, 64.1 200y Crowe ¯ Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and ttse Spiritual Exercises ¯ 7o the pupil, the follower. On this affectivity rests the child's apprehension of values; as educators know, values are caught, n6t taught. On these apprehended values, belief rests. On belief follows the growth in understanding of one who has found a genuine teacher and has been initiated into the study of the masters of the past. Then, to confirm one's growth in understanding, comes experience made mature and percep-tive by one's developed understanding. One can recognize these terms as fitting into one or another o~: the four levels of human activity, but note that the experience at the end of the way down is not identical with the experience at the start of the way up. The experience at the start is rather raw material, but at the end of the circle it is experience "made mature and perceptive by one's developed understanding." Implications are many. One is the role of community. It is all-important in this process that we are born into and develop and live out our lives in a community, that our insertion into community and history includes an invitation to accept the natural process of development. In that process one belongs to a hierarchy of groups and so owes allegiance to one's home, to one's country, to one's religion. Through the traditions of the group, one is "socialized," finding that one's home is an exist-ing society. One is "acculturated," learning and accepting the values of one's group. One is "educated" to become in time a fully inserted member of the tribe or clan, and eventually a participant in the modernity that each generation must create for itself and for its posterity. (The trio of words in q~otation marks recurs over and over in Lonergan.) There are further implications. Of special impo~tfince is the healing factor. The transformation of falling in" love (domestic love, human love, divine love) is a healing',force. Where hatred sees only evil, love reveals values. In one sweep it commands commitment and joyfully carries it out. Where hatred reinforces bias, love dissolves it. We see this in our Review for Religious Catholic history. Christianity possessed the spiritual power to heal what was unsound in the imperial domain of Rome. But it was unaccompanied by its natural complement of creating, for a single development has two vectors: one from below upwards, creating; the other from above downwards, healing. Of similar importance is the factor, already mentioned, of tradition. The community receives and adds to what it has received and hands on the tradition. In this transmission, belief plays a key role. Through belief personal experience is filled out.by reports from others, one's insights are complemented by insights of others, and one's own judgments--what one has been believing from childhood or in school or in college or in university or in the press--are formed within the context of the judgments of others. These two sources of growth (personal acquisition and belief) are not in separate compartments; the two are inter-dependent, there is a symbiosis. Both begin from infahcy. But only through the second does the first take one b~yond the earliest prehistoric stages of human development. Only through the first:is there any real assimilation and appropri-ation of the second. From the cradling environment of the infant to the professor consulting the encyclopedia, our lives are filled with trust and eventually belief. Applying the Way from Above. to the Spiritual Exercises I began my .sssay with the Ti~omist pattern, from below upwards, as seen.iri the Second Week of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. It is a familiar pattern,, arid I need not go through it again. The application of the opposite order to the Spiritual Exercises, the process from above downwards, is, however, not so simple. 'A useful preliminary is to note a parallel between the secular and the religious, between day-to-day liv-ing and the world of revelation and faith. Here is Lonergan's position on this point. "What holds in general for self-under- 64.1 200Y Crowe ¯ Aquinas, Pascal, Lonergan, and the Spiritual Exercises Where the Second Week focuses on knowing and, therefore loving, the Third and Fourth Weel~s focus on communicqtion between persons already in lovei , standing in our world mediated by meaning and motivated by values holds also when that world is transfigured by God's self-revelation in Christ Jesus. The one revelation was made to many and thereby brought about a new type of commu-nity. For that community Christ prayed to his Father that 'they all be one.' It remains that a community is one not only by God's grace, but also by a consequent union of minds and hearts. Again, it remains that that consequent union can be troubled, disturbed, undergo an identity crisis; and the solu-tion to that crisis will be a common confession of faith."1° The present task, therefore, is to apply the process I have described to the Spiritual Exercises and to our Catholic spir-ituality. There are particular applica-tions, as when the rules for thinking with the church (§§352 -370) suppose the role of tradition. But what we seek here are applications within the heart of the Exercises, appli-cations built into their structure. We ask whether this contrasting position on knowledge and love is found there, either in the form given it by Pascal or in the Thomist knowledge by connaturality or in Lonergan's two ways of development. How do these ideas enter, if they do, into the Spiritual Exercises? My tentative answer is that they do enter the Exercises and in a way that considerably enhances our understanding of the Exercises. The Third and Fourth Weeks illustrate this most clearly. Where the Second Week focuses on knowing and therefore loving, the Third and Fourth Weeks focus on Review for Religious communication between persons already in love. That is, they presuppose love, love expressed in being with Christ, being with him in his suffering and being with him in his glorifica-tion. It is "being with" that matters. Whether we are with the Lord in his suffering or in his glory is secondary. What is pri-mary is that we are with him. Thus, although point six of the exercise on the Last Supper (§197) does not mention love, it is integral to love, a love that is grateful, a love that is a return of love. We are to ponder the way Christ suffers all these things on account of my sins (§ 197). The story is told of a mother who, on finishing her kitchen chores, went out to her child in its cradle on the verandah. She closed her eyes and sat there. There were loud voices next door, but she did not open her eyes t

Issue 62.4 of the Review for Religious, 2003. ; Church Dii~ection D evo tion a 1 Life Religious Life Pers 3ectives QUARTERLY 62.4 2003 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~Zeb 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. ©2003 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 th~ 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 crehtion of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. fo r 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 Judy Sharp Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 62.4 2003 contents 340 church direction Alphonsus's Perspective in the Post-Vatican II Church Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR highlights the God-given perspective of St. Alphonsus Liguori and suggests that such a perspective can be pgeserved even though the content of the Christian message has new dimensions after Vatican II. 354 Belief, Augustine, and the New Religiosity Paul Graham OSA enters us into a reflection on the shape of our faith, as opposed to its content, in contemporary Western society. devotional life 363 Rediscovering the Rosary Dennis J. Billy CSSR reviews the pope's apostolic letter on the rosary as a venerable form of prayer that will help Christians "to contemplate with Mary the ffice of Christ." 37O Mirroring Jesus: The Luminous Mysteries and Religious Life Mary Joseph Schultz SCC reflects on the luminous mysteries of the rosary not only as a new graced opportunity to deepen our faith by bringing the public life of Jesus into the rosary, but also as a special gift to vowed religious to reflect on essential elements of consecrated life. Review for Religious 379 reOi ious perspectives Why Newly Professed Religious Leave Peter Cantwell OFM reflects not only on what younger people are disillusioned by in religious life but also on what current members might provide as helps in a mutual effort to live the charism. 402 Ignatian Insights into Evangelical Poverty Donald C. Maldari SJ explores the richness and relevance of evangelical poverty and its relationship to theological hope in the spirituality of St. Ignatius Loyola. departments 338 Prisms 423 Canonical Counsel: Papal Enclosure 431 Book Reviews 440 Indexes L33-7-- 62.4 2003 Te naturalized British writer Hilaire Belloc (1870-1953) came to the United States for the first time with hope of winning a young lady's hand. He had met her and her mother earlier, when they were visiting England. Sometime during his unexpectedly 16ng and difficult land trip west to California to propose to her, Belloc was stimulated to write the following light verse: Kings live in palaces, pigs in sties, youth in expectation. Youth is wise. Despite Belloc's idealistic inspiration, we might hesitate to agree that such youthful expectation is wise. When our hopes, our expectations, are not realized, we can become disillusioned or bitter and angry or, perhaps, if we have a certain psychological makeup, resilient. As it happened, Belloc's marriage proposal was rejected by the young lady's mother, but he returned to England with his expectations intact. A year or so later, he took another trip to the United States with the same purpose in view, and this time he was successful. He married the young lady. Undoubtedly he felt that he had made his own the truth he had expressed in his verse. Our Catholic faith seems to agree with youth, even finding that living in expectation is a divine way of living. Jesus, after all, taught us to Review for Religious pray daily "Thy kingdom come." Certain times of the year, like Advent, and holy days like All Saints, All Souls, and Christmas highlight for us the virtue of hope or expectation. God has such divine expectations of each one of us that there is no limit to how often he forgives our wrongdoing. Likewise there are no restrictions on the graces of God's intimacy with his sons and daughters in Christ. Scripture would have us believe that God expects to delight in us. Expectation, then, considered in a Christian light, is not just for the young, but it is the graced quality of those who are called to be young in heart by their Christian baptism. Living in expectation, we look forward to growing in holiness. We have expectations about ourselves as saints, just as God does. Living in expectation, we look for the ways that God shines forth in the world he created and leads us towards God's reign. Entering into St. Paul's heart, we have expectations that God keeps working at the century-by-century fulfillment of his creation in Christ. We as members of Christ's Body expect to play our own part, with God, in bringing about this fullness of redemption. Of course, we all have our natural fear of dying, especially faced with its unknown pain and circumstances. But we as Christians can at the same time look towards death with expectation, welcoming our further identity with Christ in receiving death as one more gift of the Father so that we can rejoice in resurrected life forever. As we say in our Creed, we expect the res-urrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Yes, to live in expectation is a profound Christian calling. Such living is rooted, not in youthfulness, but in God, and is sustained by God. We the baptized are meant to live in expectation. We devoutly pray for God's presence gracing us in this way. Then we are youthfully wise. David L. Fleming SJ 62.4 2003 church NIHAL ABEYASINGHA Alphonsus's Perspective in. the Post-Vatican I! Church direction Redemptorists were for a considerable period of their history called "hellfire preachers." And so indeed they were. At the time of Alphonsus Liguori, the founder of the Redemptorists, the preaching was accompanied by "audiovisuals" that would be considered macabre today--the exhibition of a skull, an imaginary dialogue with a damned soul, and thepreachers going around the town in the dark crying out "Save your soul!" Obviously, these procedures cannot and should not be duplicated today. But, if what he did represented a God-given perspective, I think it would be a pity to lose the perspective even today. In this article I intend to highligh,t Alphonsus's perspective and suggest tentatively that it can be preserved even though the content--or the awareness of the content--of the Christian message has new dimensions after Vatican Council II. Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR lives at 454/9 Piachaud Gardens; Peradeniya Road; Kandy, Sri Lanka. Review for Reli~ous Background of the Ministry of Alphonsus The Council of Tren.lt (1545-1563) met to counter the effect that Luther's andI other Reformation perspectives were having on the church. The perspectives were primarily doctrinal. They had serious implications, however, for the institutional and disciplinary structure of the church. There was pblarization: Scripture alone versus Scripture and Tradition;'I faith as commitment alone (tides fiducialis) versus faith ificluding content; only God and grace versus God in Christ acting through human ministry and grace being mediate.d through the church. When the council met in 1545, the attendance was poor, some forty bishops, most of the~m Italian. They began with disagreement, but by 1546 they decided to deal simulta-neously with both doctrifial and disciplinary issues. . The shadow of thel Reformation cast a permanent shadow on the council's deliberations. The result was an emphasis on 'what the Reformers had gotten wrong by Catholic criteria, ignorin, g altogether what they got right. (In the words of G.K. Chesterton, every heresy is the revenge of a forgotten ~r_~-uth.) Among other things, Trent stressed the veneration iof the saints, devotion to Mary, the Mass as sacrifice, th~ importance of suffrages for the dead, and other matters! against the Reformers, Spin-offs of these lines of thought in Catholic culture included stress on Euchanstac ad.orataon, a deemphasls of the role of the laity, and undu~e emphasis on the role of the . ordained minister who c.onfects the Eucharist. In the Catholic trad, ition the theology that followed was highly systematized, the disciplinary structure rigid and centrahzed. But the, ology also reflected attempts to find places of accord with Luther. For example, Michel de Bay of Louvain (+1589) thought of original sin as depriving human beingi of what constitutes the human condition--another vergion of Luther's understanding of humanity's "radical corruption." Bay's position was 62.4 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Alpbonsus's Perspective Alphonsus's ministry was "popular," directed to the masses who lacked competent pastoral care. defended by Cornelius Jansen (+1638). Even though views such as these were repudiated by the church, they had effects on requirements for receiving the sacraments. I suggest that Alphonsus used the "last things" (death, judgment, heaven, and hell), which had a major impact on Luther, as a call to conversion for those in sin. The response of conversion that he sought was oriented towards the sacraments of recon-ciliation and the Eucharist, the ecclesial communion that is based on the true faith and true sacraments. Alphonsus's ministry was "popular," directed to the masses who lacked competent pastoral care. These people were steeped in superstition and magic, and lived in fear of frightful evils such as the devil coming into their lives. That is where Alphonsus started; he addressed their emotion of fear by proclaiming the last things. Beginning his preaching of the Christian message here, he le~l individuals to the sacraments. He wanted to make it as easy as possible for sinners to confess to a priest (in contrast to the Reformers' idea of confessing directly to God). He advocated a gentle manner with those who committed sins by almost unconscious habit and with those who fell again and again into the same sin (consuetudinarii and recidivt). In his time the laxist view allowed absolution as often as penitents confessed, while the rigorist view demanded thorough amendment of life before they could receive absolution. Mphonsus proposed a middle path of sound common sense. He said that absolution should be refused to consuetudinarii and recidivi unless there were clear signs of repentance, which he listed: tears, weeping, a lessening of the number of sins, notable efforts at amendment such Review for Reli~ous as fasting or almsgiviOg, evidence of a search for new means of improvement, spontaneous confession, special motivation such as the fear of some impending disaster, confession of sins previously and culpably omitted, prior restitution, new awardness, of guilt. He advocated that absolution be deferred only when the confessor was morally certain of the penitent's wrong disposition; that is, .for deferral he needed to make a prudent probable judgment about ,tpheen'i te"n t s' fundamental lack of sorrow. He said, too, ~at absolution is not to be deferred if there is danger of more harm than good being done.1 Through reconciliation followed by the Eucharist (the emphasis more on Holy Communion than on the Mass), people were weaned ,away from sin. What was taking place is pictured on thd cover Alphonsus designed for his book Selva: The Digni~ and Duties of the Priest. The priest is hearing confession .'in front of a large crucifix. Rays from the crucified Lo,"rd stream towards the penitent. Alphonsus's pastoral r~alism saw God's action in Christ reaching penitents thro.'ugh the sacramental mediation of the church. The perspelctive is close to that of Irenaeus of Lyon (+202): "God is~ man's glory, but it is man who receives the effect of Gbd's activity, who is the recipient of all God's wisdom and power. Just as a doctor proves himself in his patients, ~o God reveals himself in men." 2 Alphonsus facilitated reconciliation with a bias in favor of penitents because of his own trust in the power of God's grace. He-k~ew that generally the habitual sinners would fear death, judgment, hell, and the loss of heaven and so would approach sacramental recon-ciliation. He knew thht fear as a motive does not last long. He knew that "~erfect love casts out fear" (1 Jn 4:18). So, to lead therfi beyond fear and enable them to remain converted, to p'ersevere, he offered the motive of love and a support structure of prayer and fellowship, namely, confraternities. 62.4 2003 Abeyasingba * Alpbonsus'sPer~ective To sustain people's effort and stir up love in them, he presented considerations that would naturally lead to love. Look how much God loved you, sending his Son in human .form; that Son died for you amid unspeakable suffering; that intense love continues in his abiding presence, especially in the Eucharist. Will you not return love for love? In such works as The Practice oft be Love of Jesus Christ, he would go further into the qualities that true love for Jesus entails. He knew, of course, the sinner's obvious objection: I am too weak to respond with any degree of intensity of love. He forestalled that objection by his teaching on prayer. Christ has said, "Ask and you shall receive." Ask God--that is prayer. Because God has said it, you will receive. Everyone and anyone can do this much. He bolstered this position by citing respected authors and by telling stories of how sinners who did not stop praying " received a final chance to repent and be saved. Even daough many of the stories would be laughed at today, in those days they made his point effectively. Parish missions were considered finished only when all had had an opportunity for confession. After the mission Alphonsus established some ongoing programs: regular mental prayer in the church and confraternities where people supported one another with fellowship, prayer, and regular instruction to stay on the path of their conversion. There is a clear overall perspective in these programs. Today one can object that in this model popular piety and liturgy merely coexist and that the former can even take precedence over the latter.3 It is likely that Alphonsus knew of Ludovico Antonio Muratori, a 17th-century writer who in Della Regolata Devozione dei Cristiani (Norms for Christian Devotion) proposed a religiosity that drew from the liturgy and the Scriptures to offset superstition and magic, and that he also knew of Benedict XIV's important initiative of permitting the use of the Review for Religious Bible in the vernacular. But Alphonsus did not bring these perspectives into his work for the pastorally most abandoned, chiefly uneducated people inclined to superstition. It would make little sense. They might give a symbolic assent to the matter presented and engage in a symbolic act of conversion, but their lives would not be much changed. Alphonsus said that the test of a good sermon is when the people leave the church striking their breast and not talking about the preacher. A New Context As the church in mid-20th-century Europe was facing something of a crisis of neglect and indifference, some new theological perspectives and initiatives in Scripture, catechesis, and liturgy were appearing. Without intend!ng to imply that Redemptorists were in the forefront of the pre-Vatican II theological scene--in fact, they were not--I venture to suggest that two Redemptorists made a significant contribution to this evolving theology. They did this by examining the existing perspectives in the light of Alphonsus's call-response perspective (fear as initial stimulus leading to love in the long term). This was obvious in the German Bernard H~iring.4 EX. Durrwell, from France, highlighted the grandeur of the resurrection in God's redemptive plan so that believers could more attractively show those who were ignoring the Christian message the way to conversion and growth.5 After all, the motto of the Redemptorist congregation is "With him is plentiful redemption." Paul Hitz CSSR, of Switzerland, even though he did not receive much international notice, contributed to catechetics, which too is a call to grow as believers. Vatican II bro,ught into focus several aspects of theology for which 'Isome theologians had been disciplined. It rediscove~'ed the paschal mystery and, with that, found a new view df the ¯church: its being sacrament, I 62.4 2003 Abeyasingha ¯ Alphonsus's Perspective the common priesthood of all Christ's faithful (and some consequences of this), and a renewed liturgy.6 Alphonsus's Perspective in a Post-Vatican II Context Can Mphonsus's perspective fit in this post-Vatican II context? I do not know whether this question has been posed in this way. It is claimed that Alphonsus's perspective is embodied in a story that is loved, remembered, and lived by Redemptorists. Without assessing that claim, perhaps articulating some contemporary dimensions may not be out of place. In his Confessions Augustine (+430) made this prayerful observation: "Since the time I first learned of You, there is nothing of You I have discovered that I have not discovered by remembering." And what he discovered in responding to the Manichees, Donatists, and Pelagians of his time has influence even in our day. Perhaps one may suggest that a hint of a Vatican II perspective was already present in Alphonsus. In his Duetto (Dialogue with the Soul) he imagines a soul meeting Christ going to his death. The soul asks: "Where ¯ are you going?" Jesus replies: "I am going to die." The soul wants to follow him. Jesus asks the soul to give him his heart and then go and live, always remembering his (Jesus') love." In practice, one emotion seems dominant in the Redemptorist recognition of, and conversion from, sin, and that is joy, thankfulness that one is forgiven. "Father, you show your almighty power chiefly in your mercy and forgiveness" (opening prayer, 26th Sunday, Ordinary Time). Put this grateful joy felt by Redemptorists into the picture of alertness for clear signs of repentance--fear as a starting point of conversion, tears, fewer sins, fasting or almsgiving, seeking new ways to improve, and so forth--and perhaps you have something that at least resonates with the perspective of the Exsultet of the Easter Vigil, stemming from well Review for Religious before Vatican II: 'iWhat good would life have been for us had Christ not come as our Redeemer? Father, how wonderful your care for us! How boundless your merciful love! To ransom a slave you gave away your Son. O happy fault, O necessary sin of Adam, which gained for us so great a Redeemer!" Does this Redemptorist picture from before Vatican II fit in with post-Vatican II theological reflection? I think it does. After being careful to identify those who are in the greatest pastoral need, we must remember a few basic principles. First, it is important to touch people where they are. Where Muratori proposed drawing popular piety from Scripture and the liturgy, Alphonsus's program was to meet people where they were and then lead them beyond it. Second, a clear distinction needs to be made between stimulating conversion in the short term (Alphonsus used fear for this) and maintaining conversion in the long term. (For the latter, Alphonsus had only one prescription: love.) Third, how does one propose love? The short answer is: as a call that evokes a response, or an offer that invites acceptance. It is important to keep God's initiative in mind, as in the picture of rays from the crucified Jesus shining on the penitent. Alphonsus's call to love focuses on Jesus' passion: "Greater love than this.no one has, than that a person lay down his life for his friends." But this emphasis should include the following: "Therefore does the Father love me, because I lay down my life that I may take it up again" On 10:17-18). Death and resurrection are inseparable. Psychologically, selfless suffering unto death is deeply evocative of response, but it is not complete by itself.7 Rather than being isolated from the resurrection, Jesus' passion should be presented as a step on the journey to fullness of life. "The glory of God is man fully alive, and the life of man is the vision of God," says Irenaeus of 62.4 2003 Ab~yasingha ¯ Alphonsus'sPerspective Lyon. Incorporation into Christ's deat[h and resurrection in baptism should be the basic paradigm for preaching about death and resurrection. For there to be resurrection, there must be passion (suffering) and death; one chooses this journey because of the hope of resurrection. "Christ has passed beyond our sight, not to abandon us, but to be our hopE. Christ is the beginning, the head of the church; where he has gone, we hope to follow" (Preface 1, Ascension). The grandeur of that goal makes the call to conversion attractive today: "With him is plentiful redemption." It is well to remember that even on Good Friday, when the liturgy focuses on the suffering and death of Christ, it is not separated from the resurrection. (The Via Lucis, Stations of the Resurrection, may be one way to maintain the link between death and resurrection.) Note, too, that the apparitions of the risen Lord involved some renunciation (of previous expectations) and often a call to mission as a condition for recognizing the "stranger" as the very Jesus whom the disciples had known. This is the version of the resurrection as call to death and call to love that needs to be worked out in popular idiom for people today. The resurrection is contingent upon the Son's having taken human flesh. If the incarnation had not taken place, no death-cum-resurrection would be possible. This mystery highlights the incarnation as an emptying (Ph 2:6-11), the rich one becoming poor for our sakes (2 Co 8:9). Jesus' life in the flesh meant sharing our condition and emotions. But, because it was not a life limited to the flesh, he was raised to life in the Spirit (Rrn 1:1-4). In the liturgy we pray, "May this sacrament [Eucharist] restrain our earthly desires and enable us to grow in love of the things of heaven" (After Communion, Tuesday, First Week of Lent). The child Jesus shared in the development that every child goes through--from the first stages, whei'e self- Review for Religious reference is the norm, to the point of total unselfishness in love ("He loved them to the end" Jn 13:1). The incarnation is the call to grow. Here one does well to keep in mind that excellent training in a particular discipline (medicine, accountancy, or whatever) does not automatically mean that one is an adult in regard to one's religious growth (the commitment based on content that Catholic faith requires). Many adults remain at the level of children (often the faith content they had at confirmation) and think that a vague "feel good / do some good" religion is growth. God's invitation is to deeper growth, an incar-national growth guided by the Spirit. The journey from the Father to this world and back to the Father is the program for all Christians. It is eriacted (as a "today") in the Eucharist. There is a continuing call to recommitment, to baptism's death and resurrection themes. The Eucharist is a third focus of Alphonsus. For him, Jesus is the prisoner in the tabernacle, awaiting, calling, and welcoming those who come to visit him. But the Jesus of the tabernacle is first the Jesus who was born, lived, died, and rose again, who celebrated that Passover with his disciples and continues to do so in the community of believers. And this is perhaps the high point of the call: to recognize that we are betrayers who are called by the one betrayed (Jesus) to share a meal with him. For this he accepts what we offer (bread and wine, products of the earth and of human hands) and returns them to us transformed (his risen body and blood, the new creation). One can add some glosses to the Eucharistic narrative to highlight this perspective: "On the night he The journey from the Father to this world and back to the Father is the program for all Christians. 62.4 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Alpbonsus's Perspective was betrayed [by his disciples, with whom we are all complicit], Jesus took bread [that supports life---he was not seeking revenge] and gave thanks [for everything, including the betrayal, life and its support, death, because this is the prelude to resurrection and glory] and shared it with his disciples [betrayers become .companions, "bread fellows"], saying [not only in word but in deed]: 'This is my body, which is broken for you' [the principle enunciated in the Gospels: 'Unless .the grain of wheat dies' and 'Take upyour cross']. Do this in memory of me [the call addressed to all his followers, sinner and saint alike, a call to 'do this' not only in word but also in deed].''8 Finally, for continuing the journey of conversion over the long haul, Alphonsus proposed a program of prayer. He emphasized, not the amount of prayer, but fidelity to it. A short prayer every day is better than a long period of prayer occasionally. Prayer means recognizing one's limitations, acknowledging one's need for God. Beginners in mental prayer need some method, but, as they grow, they should not let the method become a hindrance to prayer. When difficulties arise, they can fall back on the method. This advice of Alphonsus remains valid and relevant in our day, but support groups are needed too. For the community as a whole, Alphonsus proposed confraternities, which were support groups. Today's psychological research has identified the roots of various problems. Lay people should be encouraged to use .their skills to help others in various difficulties, even if it means merely lending an ear to one other person. When people feel that they havebeen heard and understood, they are often able to work their way through their own problems. Such support is very much in the competence of laypersons, and those devoted to pastoral care would do well to keep encouraging them to fulfill their special role in the world. Review for Religious Charisms as Life-Giving Roots The present article indicates the need for religious institutes not to take their agendas from current theology. Theology has its place, but institutes have their own particular orientations and perspectives. It is in rediscovering and living according to their foundational perspectives that religious institutes can make their authentic contributions. These solidly rooted agendas are indeed their very reason for existence. When Cyprian (+258) became bishop of Carthage, he made it a rule to do nothing on his private opinion without the counsel (consilium) of the presbyterate and the agreement (consensus) of the people. The two Latin words are significant. As the one who presided over the presbyterate, Cyprian needed their counsel. Often it would be far more "advanced"--aware of many more theological perspectives, one could say--than the laity. But he also wanted to have the consensus of the people, a fellow feeling of where they were. I suggest that Alphonsus started with the consensus of the laity and, as preacher of repentance, led them to commit their lives in love to Jesus, supporting one another along the journey. The challenge is to be "popular," to meet people where they are, but also to lead them beyond, in terms of call and response, invitation and acceptance. There will be changes in the content and style of post-Vatican II proclamation and ways of celebrating the sacraments, but the apostolic perspectives of Alphonsus and other founders can, I am convinced, well remain unchanged. Notes ' See Raphael Gallagher, "The Fate of the Moral Manual since Saint Alphonsus," in Histo,3v and Conscience: Studies in Honour of Father Sean O'Riordan CSSR, ed. Raphael Gallagher and Brendan McConvery (Dublin: Gill and Macmillan, 1989), pp. 212-239. 2 Irenaeus, Adversus haereses, 3.20.2. 62.4 2003 Abeyasingba * Alpbonsus's Perspective 3 See Directory on Popular Piety and the Litu'rgy: Principles and Guidelines (Vatican, 9 April 2002), §41: "The 'popular missions' emerged at this time and contributed greatly to the spread of the pious exercises. Liturgy and popular piety coexist in these exercises, even if somewhat imbalanced at times. The parochial missions set out to encourage the faithful to approach the sacrament of penance and to receive Holy Communion. They regarded pious exercises as a means of inducing conversion and of assuring popular participation in an act of worship." 4 See Bernard H~iring CSSR, The Law of Christ, 3 vols. (Westminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1961o1966), and his later work, which is more diffuse and wide-ranging, Free and Faithful in Christ, 3 vols. (New York: Century, 1979). 5 EX. Durrwell CSSR, The Resurrection (London: Sheed and Ward, 1960). 6 See Directory, §§48-49: "History shows, first of all, that the correct relationship between the Liturgy and popular piety begins to be distorted with the attenuation among the faithful of certain values. essential to the Liturgy itself. The following may be numbered among the causes giving rise to this: ¯ a weakened awareness or indeed a diminished sense of the" paschal mystery and of its centrality for the history of salvation, of which the Liturgy is an actualization. Such inevitably occurs when the piety of the faithful, unconscious of the 'hierarchy of truths,' imperceptibly turns towards other salvific mysteries in the life of Christ, of the Blessed Virgin Mary, or indeed of the angels and saints; ¯ a weakening of a sense of the universal priesthood, in virtue of which the faithful offer 'spiritual sacrifices pleasing to God, through Jesus Christ' (1 Pt 2:5, Rm 12:1), and, according to their condition, participate fully in the church's worship. This is often accompanied by the phenomenon of a Liturgy dominated by clerics who also perform the functions not reserved to them and which, in turn, causes the faithful to have recourse to pious exercises through which they feel a sense of becoming active participants; ¯ unfamiliarity with the 'language' of the Liturgy--that is, its language, signs, symbols, and ritual gestures---causing much of the meaning of the celebration to elude the faithful. This unfamiliarity can even make them feel like outsiders to the liturgical action, and so they are quick to manifest their preference for pious exercises whose 'language' is closer to their own cultural development, or Review for Religious else for private devotions more in keeping with the details and demands of their daily life. "Each of these factors, and both in certain cases, not infrequently produce imbalances in the relationship between the Liturgy and popular piety, to the former's detriment and the latter's impoverishment. These should therefore be corrected through careful and persistent catechetical and pastoral work. "Conversely, the liturgical renewal and the heightened liturgical sense of the faithful have often recontex~ualized popular piety in its relationship with the Liturgy. Such should be regarded as a positive development and in conformity with the most profound orientation of Christian piety." 7 See Sean O'Riordan, "The Human Psychology of Repentance," Studia Moralia 21 (1983): 79-102, and "The Nature and Function of Pastoral Psychology," Studia Moralia 1 (1963): 348-387. 8 Karl Rahner, "The Episcopate and the Primacy," in Karl Rahner and Joseph Ratzinger, The Episcopate and the Primacy (New York: Herder and Herder, 1961), p. 25: "Essentially the church is the historically continuing presence in the world of the incarnate Word of God. She is the historical tangibility of the salvific will of God as revealed in Christ. Therefore the church is most tangibly and intensively an 'event' where (through the words of consecration) Christ himself is present in his own congregation as the crucified and resurrected Savior, the fount of salvation; where the redemption makes itself felt in the congregation by becoming sacramentally visible; where the 'New and Eternal Testament' which he founded on the cross is most palpably and actually present in the holy remembrance of its first institution. Therefore the celebration of the Eucharist is the most intensive event of the church." I would add that the consequence is that every word in the church must be understood in connection with the memorial dimension of the Eucharist (see I Co 11:26). It is like the prism which separates light intoits constituent colors and also refocuses the different colors into a unity. 62.4 2003 PAUL GRAHAM Belief, Augustine, and the New Religiosity ~/ nd what remains when disbelief has gone?" That striking line from Philip Larkin's poem "Church Going" poses a question that is characteristic of the times we live in. The problem today is not so much disbelief or unbelief, but belief. The onus is now on those who claim they do not believe in God. According to the European Values Study for 1999/2000, 77.4 percent of the sample surveyed believe in God. Even in secular Sweden, which has the lowest number of believers in God in Western Europe, the number is 53.4 percent. Clearly, unbelievers are in the minority. The agnostics, according to this scenario, are not those who are unsure about their belief in God, but those who are not sure they disbelieve. The line from Philip La~'kin's poem cap-tures beautifully the anxiety of the unbeliever who has a nagging suspicion that perhaps there is a God after all. The present-day anxiety, the anxiety of a post-Christian society, is in the possibility that there is a God. Paul Graham OSA is provincial of the English-Scottish province of the Augustinians. His address is Provincial Office; 15 Dorville Crescent; London W6 0HH; United Kingdom. Review fbr Religious In these circumstances, those of us who through our faith have been freed from the burden of unbelief--and it is a burden--have a corresponding responsibility not to take our belief for granted. Belief is something that grows and deepens; it is not static. In the famous words of St. Augustine: "Make progress, my brothers and sis-ters, examine yourselves honestly again and again. Put yourselves to the test. Do not be content with what you are, if you want to become what you are not yet . Always add something more, keep moving forward, always make progress" (Sermon 169). An important part of reflection on faith is its social context. The shape of our belief, as opposed to its con-tent, is influenced by the world around us. If we lived in 13th-century Italy, for instance, unbe-lief would not have been a problem; even the gross sinner would be expected to believe in God. Faith was characterize~l by an intense devotion to the person of Christ in his passion and in the Eucharist. Belief had a tangible feel about it then, and peo-ple were not afraid to express it publicly. In Poland during the Communist times, faith was shaped by the need to take a firm stand against state-controlled atheism. Belief in God was caught up in nationalism: to be Polish was to be Catholic, as being Irish in Ireland was until recently. The object of faith in these differenttimes and places remains the same: God in Jesus Christ. This leaves us with the question: In contemporary Western society, what is the shape of our faith? It is now fashionable to have a "spirituality" in these 2 l st-century "postsecular" times. The problem is not so much religious belief as what to believe in. People today have become spiritually gullible. G.K. Chesterton noted perceptively that, when people stop believing in the true People today have become spiritually gullible. 62.4 2003 Graham ¯ Belief, Augustine, and the New Religiosity God, they start believing in anything. One of the charac-teristics of this new religiosity is its individualism. People now pick and choose the bits of religion they want to believe in and reject the distasteful parts. It has become a lifestyle choice: a bit of Zen here, a bit of Feng Shui there, a touch of white magic perhaps, and even some aspects of Christianity--the nice bits. This is nondemanding, non-threatening religion, a pick-and-mix spirituality. It has become fashionable to make a distinction between "religion" and "spirituality." By "religion" is meant institutional religion, the church; by "spirituality" is meant the "good" things about religion without the awkward bits like the hierarchy and the church's teach-ings. One can now have a spirituality, even if it means rejecting or sitting loose to the institutional form of the church. The problem is, once you detach spirituality from religion, it can quickly become self-seeking and inward-looking. Belonging to the church prevents that from happening. The Latin word religio implies "ties," ."obligations." We are bound to one another and to God, in the church. Jonathan Sacks, the chief rabbi of Great Britain, has an interesting observation to make here (see Credo in The Times, 24 August 2002). He challenges those who claim to have a "spirituality" but reject organized reli-gion. Spirituality, he says, marks the beginning of a search for God, leading on to religion, to belonging to a community of believers; otherwise it tends to be escapist and self-indulgent. He illustrates this by referring to Robert Putnam, the Harvard sociologist, whose recent book Bowling Alone (2000) is about the breakdown of community in the United States as a result of growing individualism. The metaphor for this breakdown is to be found in ten-pin bowling. In the 1950s bowlers belonged to leagues and clubs and went bowling together, as teams. Today those leagues are no longer so Review for Religious popular, and people prefer to go bowling on their own. Sacks therefore declares, "Spirituality is what happens to religion when it goes 'Bowling Alone.'" Britain faces a similar problem of individualism. A recent sociological study (Changing Britain, Changing Lives, (London: Institute of Education, 2003), involving three birth-cohort studies of people born in 1946, 1958, and 1970, found that in the last fifty years there has been a marked decline in social cohesiveness and awareness, evidenced in the universal decline in voting, community activity, and church activity. The political philosopher Eric Hobsbawm is quoted in this study as saying, "Prosperity and privatization broke up what poverty and collectivity in the public place welded together" (p. 9). This individualizing tendency in society as a whole, I suggest, is influencing deeply the way we believe. St. Augustine understood this very well. Father Tom Martin OSA, in Our Restless Heart: The Augustinian Tradition (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 2003), takes up this issue: "Does Augustinian spirituality lead to a privatized spirituality? While it is clear that Augustine privileges the heart and the journey within, he would be the first to decry any reading of him that would turn the Christian life into a solitary journey. It is always a shared pilgrimage, a community of fellow believers on a journey of faith to God" (p. 47). In another passage, speaking of the need to "return to one's heart," he says: "Yet for all this talk of 'heart,' this empl~asis on interiority, its inten-tion is never meant to lead to an introverted spirituality. What is fundamentally interior to me is, for Augustine, the point where I am also closest to my brothers and sis-ters in the human family. From the heart I come to Christian faith, become a member of the church, the Body of Christ . [Augustine's] insistence upon the heart is thus not a self-serving escape from responsibil-ity into interior religion and privatized faith" (p. 43). 62.4 2003 I believe this to be one of the greatest challenges to Christian faith today, the challenge posed by the privatization of belief. I have labored this point because I believe this to be one of the greatest challenges to Christian faith today, the challenge posed by th4 .privatization of belief. As Cardinal Hume once said, "faith is always personal but never private." Augustinian spirituality is one of the greatest safeguards we have. However, because of its emphasis on interiority and the need to find God within, it can very easily be hijacked by the "privatizers" of faith. Martin makes it quite clear that such an interpretation of Augustine is a distortion of his spirituality, which is at all times ecclesial, rooted in community, rooted in the church. "To remove or isolate or separate God or self or community within the thought of Augustine," he says, "would only result in a profound distortion of his spiri-tual vision" (p. 49). So, as we struggle with belief ina society that wants to reduce everything--whether fast food or spirituality-- to individual choice, Augustine provides us with a nec-essary corrective to the "McDonaldization" of religion, as a Scottish theologian calls it (John Drane, The McDonaldization of the Church, London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 2000). Return to your hearts by all means, but not to stay there, rather to encounter the God who opens up our hearts to those around us. Augustine himself was only too aware of the temptations of interiority. His first experiment in community life was with like-minded friends near Milan just after his bap-tism. He established a community apart from the hustle and bustle of life in order to spend time in contemplation and reflection: otium sanctum, "holy leisure." He brought Review for Religious this idealized form of Christian community back to North Africa, to Thagaste, where he established a lay community, but he had a.rude awakening. Visiting a church in Hippo one day to look for a candidate for his community, he was grabbed by the congregation and presented to the aging Bishop Valerius for ordination to the priesthood--and he wept. Augustine knew that from then on his life would no longer be his own. Gone for the rest of his life was any notion of otium sanctum. The life of contemplation would lead him now to share that contemplation with others. It is a paradox of his life, and indeed of the Christian life in general, that the journey within becomes at a certain point a journey outwards, to God and to others. Hence his famous observation in the City of God: "For no one ought to be so leisured as to take no thought in that leisure for the interest of his neighbor, nor so active as to feel no need for the contemplation of God" (xIx. 19). The current resurgence of interest in religion and spirituality is evidenced in the number of books in the "Mind, Body, and Spirit" sections in most bookstores. Often the Christian section is quite small in relation to other religions. Clearly, many are hungry for a spiritual view of life. It has become obvious that people cannot survive for long on unbelief and on a purely secular view of the world, in spite of the predictions of the proponents of the "theory of secularization," who are now eating humble pie. Harvey Cox has said: "Today it is secularity, not spirituality, that may be headed for extinction" (Fire from Heaven, London: Cassell, 1996, p. xv). People yearn for enchantment. Secularity does not feed the human spirit, which is made for God. The Vatican has responded to this phenomenon by publishing Jesus Christ, the Bearer of the Water of Life: A Christian Reflection on the "New Age" (Pontifical Councils for Culture and Interreligious Dialogue, 2003). It 62.4 2003 Graham ¯ Belie, Augustine, and the New Religiosity This new religiosity is largely non-Christian. acknowledges that this renewed interest in spirituality and religion in general is evidence of a spiritual hunger in the contemporary world. There is in people a deep desire for the transcendent. "Our hearts are restless," says Augustine, restless for the true God (Confessions, I. 1). The document sees in this new religiosity "a genuine yearning for a deeper spiritu-ality, for something that will touch their hearts, and for a way of making sense of a con-fusing and often alienating world" (1.5). It also notes many positive aspects of this religiosity: its criticism of materialism, its sense of the sacredness of life, and its concern for the environment. But there is a difficulty. This new religiosity is largely non-Christian. As the document says, "it is on the wh61e difficult to reconcile it with Christian doctrine and spir-ituality" (2). It is important to remember that we are all subject to these influences in society at large. One has only to mention the example of Cherie Blair, the wife of the British prime minister, who has publicly declared her allegiance both to the Catholic Church and to forms of New Ageism, such as the use of crystals. I have no wish to judge an individual case, merely to cite her as a very public example of what I believe to be a common misapprehension: that you can mix Christianity with alternative spiritualities and think there is nothing amiss. Some of it may be harmless, but one needs to be dis-criminating. The current tendency towards the privatization of faith and spiritual individualism is also picked up by the Vatican document, which refers to "spiritual narcissism" and the "private world of ego-fulfillment," quoting a well-known commentator On New Age (3.2). It also cautions against looking for religious experiences "engen- Review for Religious dered by turning in on oneself." This leads on to the fundamental point that "Christian prayer is not an exer-cise in self, contemplation, stillness, and self-emptying, but a dialogue of love" (3.4). Certain kinds of religion can easily become an ego trip, and this document is not afraid to say so. Augustine's search for God, expressed in his Confessions, appears on one level to be the classic "journey within," and indeed he gave succeeding generations the spiritual vocabulary for that necessary journey. But he is at pains to point out that, unbeknownst to himself, God was with him at all times on that journey. It was not so much a search for self as a search for the Truth outside of self. In a sense, it was God who went in search of Augustine, not the other way round. It was grace that prompted him to seek God in the first place: "You were within me, and I was in the world outside myself . You called me, you cried aloud to me, you broke the bar-rier of my deafness" (X.2 7). As Jesus says in John's Gospel, "you did not choose me; no, I chose you" (Jn 15:16). It is important to mention this, as Eastern forms of prayer and meditation are very popular. While there are many rich insights to be gained from these traditions, like the need for stillness and proper bodily posture, one has to remember that these are not Christian forms of prayer. They are mainly exercises to bring about an expe-rience of peace and enlightenment. But Christian prayer is not fundamentally about such experiences, unless they come as a grace from God. It is a relationship more than an individual experience of heightened consciousness or awareness. As the Vatican document points out, "life in Christ is not something so personal and private that it is restricted to the realm of consciousness. Nor is it merely a new level of awareness" (3.5). To quote a contemporary theologian speaking about Augustinian interiority, Christian prayer is not a "diving expedition into the soul" 62.4 2003 Graham ¯ Belief, Augustine, and the New Religiosity (John Milbank, Theology and Social Theory, London: Blackwell, 1990, p. 291), but an encounter with the living God in the person of Jesus Christ, the bearer of the water of life. Dry Rain It is as if a great party is under way: with every wind falling leaves, multicolored, natural confetti, gigantic golden snowflakes fr6m a sycamore. Autumnal dry rain in its festive, roundabout fashion waters next spring's growth, rots its way to fruitfulness, an ordinary embodiment of mercy, another promise of life from death, another reason to hope. Bonnie Thurston Review for Religious DENNIS J. BILLY Rediscovering the Rosary On 16 October 2002 Pope John Paul ~I promul-gated an apostolic letter on the rosary titled Rosarium Virginis Mariae. The purpose of the letter is to help Christians rediscover the rosary as a venerable form of prayer that will lead them "to contemplate with Mary the face of Christ" (§3). Addressed to the church's bishops, clergy, and faithful, the letter is continuous with the pope's earlier reflections in his apostolic letter on the new millennium, Novo millennio ineunte, where he insists on the importance of developing "schools of prayer" for helping the members of Christ's body to "set out in deep waters" (duc in altum) and experience the fullness of the gospel message. "With the rosary," the pope says, "the Christian people sits at the school of Mary and is led to contemplate th6 beauty on the face of Christ and to experience the depths Of his love" (~1). In order to help this process of reclaiming along, he has officially proclaimed a "Year of the devotional life Dennis J. Billy CSSR writes again from Collegio Sant'Alfonso; C.P. 2458; Roma 00100; Italy. 62.4 2003 Billy * Rediscovering the Rosary Rosary" spanning from October 2002 to October 2003 (§3). A Path of Contemplation In this letter the pope reiterates a statement he made in his letter on the new millennium: "What is needed is a Christian life distinguished above all in the art of prayer." He presents the rosary as a "path of contemplation" that developed in the West and represents a counterpart to Eastern Christianity's "prayer of the heart" or "Jesus Prayer." It numbers "among the finest and most praiseworthy traditions of Christian contemplation" (§5). !n order to reclaim its full meaning, however, the rosary must be prayed meditatively against a backdrop of solitude. It sustains rather than conflicts with the liturgy. If properly revitalized, the prayer will be in touch with its Christological center and will aid rather than impede ecumenical efforts (§4). The rosary, moreover, is proposed as a preeminent prayer for peace and as a way of helping families cope with the forces of disintegration that threaten them on both the ideological and practical levels (§6). Mary is presented in the letter as the model of Christian contemplation par excellence: "No one has ever devoted himself to the contemplation of the face of Christ as faithfully as Mary." Mary's gaze would at times be % questioning look," as when she found Jesus in the temple (see Lk 2:48). It would also be % penetrating gaze" capable of understanding Jesus and possibly even anticipating his decisions, as at the wedding at Cana (see Jn 2:5). It could also be % look of sorrow," as when she stood beneath the cross (see Jn 19:26-27) or % gaze radiant with the joy of the resurrection," as on Easter morning, or "a gaze afire with the outpouring of the Spirit" (§10), as on the day of Pentecost (see Ac 1:14). Re'levy for Religious Because the rosary starts with Mary's experience, the pope describes it as "an exquisitely contemplative prayer." Without this contemplative dimension, it would lose its meaning and risk becoming nothing more than "a mechanical repetition of formulas" (§12). When prayed with reverence and a reflective heart, the rosary enables believers to remember Christ with Mary, to learn Chris~ with Mary, and to be conformed to Christ with Mary, to pray to Christ with Mary, and to proclaim Christ with Mary (§§13-17). A Compendium of the Gospel "The rosary," for John Paul, "is one of the traditional paths of Christian prayer directed to the contemplation of the face of Christ" (§18). It is sometimes referred to as "a compendium of the gospel." To further emphasize its Christological depth, the pope has proposed five new mysteries, from Jesus' public life. In addition to the traditional joyful, sorrowful, and glorious mysteries, these "mysteries of light" are "(1) Jesus' baptism in the Jordan, (2) his self-manifestation at the wedding of Cana, (3)' his proclamation of the king-dom of God, with his call to conversion, (4) his transfiguration, and (5) his institution of the Eucharist, as the sacramental expression of the paschal mystery" (§21). These mysteries span Jesus' public ministry. The first is traditionally understood as the first action of his public ministry. The second and third present him respectively as a miracle worker and as preaching and teaching with The five mysteries lead us from the beginning to the end of Jesus' public ministry and focus on the key elements of his message. 62.4 2003 Billy * Rediscovering the Rosary authority. The fourth foreshadows the resurrection and presents Jesus as the culmination of the Law and the Prophets. The fifth is traditionally considered the last action of his public ministry. The five mysteries lead us from the beginning to the end of Jesus' public ministxy and focus on the key elements of his message. As prophetic actions that effect what they signify, Jesus' baptism and his institution of the Eucharist encapsulate the whole of his ministry and serve as fitting bookends for all that comes between. Although the pope leaves people free to follow the traditional format (§19), he is quick to point out that these five new mysteries round out the contemplative focus of the rosary by adding Jesus' .public life to the profound mysteries of the incarnation, the passion, and the resurreEtion that the other three series highlight. In doing so, he roots the rosary even deeper in the Gospel narratives and encourages the faithful to see the intimate unity of the whole of Jesus' redemptive mission. Because the mystery of Christ also reveals something "about the mystery of man, the pope goes on to point out the important anthropological significance of the rosary for believers: "Contemplating Christ's birth, they learn of the sanctity of life; seeing the household of Nazareth, they learn the original truth of the family according to God's plan; listening to the Master in the mysteries of his public ministry, they find the light which leads them to enter the kingdom of God; and, following him on the way to Calvary, they learn the meaning of salvific suffering. Finally, contemplating Christ and his Blessed Mother in glory, they see the goal toward which each of us is called, if we allow ourselves to be healed and transformed by the Holy Spirit" (§25). When reflected upon with care, each of the mysteries of the rosary says something significant about the mystery of human existence. Review for Religious Assimilating the Mystery The.pope also devotes considerable space to how believers should pray the rosary. He highlights the constituent elements of this method of contemplation, one rooted in "the inner logic of the incarnation," namely, that in Jesus God wanted to take on human features. It is well to announce each mystery, perhaps with a suitable icon that will open up the biblical scenario for those praying. The announcement is meant to lead the imagination to focus on a particular moment in the life of Christ (§29). A reading from Scripture, long or short depending on the circumstances, can follow, and then a brief period of silence (§§30 and 31). After these preparatory exercises, those praying lift their minds to the Father with the words of the Our Father. Then come ten Hail Marys followed by the Trinitarian doxology (and sometimes a short prayer) to conclude the decade (§§32-35). Beginning and finishing the rosary as a whole is done in a variety of ways. Some people begin with a verse of Psalm 70: "O God, come to my aid; O Lord make haste to help me." Others begin with the Creed, an Our Father, and three Hail Marys (§37). Some people habitually pray all twenty decades of the rosary in a single day. For those who say five decades a day, the pope suggests the following format: the joyful mysteries on Monday and Saturday, the sorrowful mysteries on Tuesday and Friday, the mysteries of light on Thursday, and the glorious mysteries on Wednesday and The rosary invites believers to open their hearts with Mary to the Word of God seeking to be born within them. 62.4 2003 Billy ¯ Rediscovering the Rosary Sunday (§38). The beads themselves are more than a mere counting device. Flowing from and converging upon the crucifix, they remind believers that their lives must be centered on Christ, and can be seen as "a chain which links us to God," a symbol of "the bond of communion and fraternity which unites us all in Christ" (§36). The pope makes one point very clear: "Although the repeated Hail Mary is addressed direcdy to Mary, it is to Jesus that the act of love is ultimately directed, with her and through her." The repetition suggests our ongoing desire "to be conformed ever more completely to Christ, the true program of the Christian life" (§26). As a "method of contemplation," the rosary invites believers to open their hearts with Mary to the Word of God seeking to be born within them. Like the liturgy, it is a prayer which engages "the whole person in all his complex psychological, physical, and relational reality" (§27). Ten Purposes The pope's apostolic letter serves ten basic purposes: (1) it provides a fitting Marian complement to Novo millennio ineunte, his earlier apostolic letter on the new millennium; (2) it emphasizes the contemplative dimension of the rosary and encourages believers to use it "to contemplate with Mary the face of Christ"; (3) it reviews the method typically used when praying it and shows how it corresponds to the inner logic of the incarnation; (4) it draws out the Christological basis of the rosary and asserts that, when used appropriately, it will further rather than hinder ecumenism; (5) it highlights the anthropological dimensions revealed in the various mysteries and shows how the rosary can lead to a deeper understanding of human, existence; (6) it affirms that the rosary sustains the liturgy rather than being in conflict with it; (7) it breathes new life into the rosary by adding new mysteries that will root it even more deeply Review for Religious in the Scripture; (8) it shows parents that the rosary can help hold their family together in the faith and can foster their children's spiritual growth and development; (9) it presents the rosary as a prayer that by its very nature can advance peace in the world; and (10) it designates the year October 2002-October 2003 as a special time for rediscovering the power and beauty of this ancient and venerable form of prayer. The goal in all of this is to help the faithful recognize the grea( gift they have in the rosary and use it in new and creative ways as they face the challenges ahead of them. In his conclusion, the pope asserts that the rosary is "a treasure to be rediscovered." It has something to offer to everyone: bishops, priests, deacons, religious, and laypersons. He asks all members of the church to take this old and venerable form of prayer once again to heart: "I look to all of you, brothers and sisters of every state of life, to you, Christian families, to you, the sick and elderly, and to you, young people: confidently take up the rosary once again. Rediscover the rosary in the light of Scripture, in harmony with the liturgy, and in the context of your daily lives" (§43). soundings for one of the sisters in the infirmary little does she know she teaches me how to eclipse her deafness. i am brief, no, spare in my attempts. at eighty, she is the poem: words are few mixing with her grief which ebbs like the tides at twilight Lou Ella Hickman IWBS 62.4 2003 MARY JOSEPH SCHULTZ Mirroring Jesus: The Luminous Mysteries and Religious Life TRhosea rHy-o-lOyc Ftoabtheer r2'0s0 n2a tmo iOncgt oobfe trh 2e0 Y03e-a-cr aomf et,he certainly not coincidentally, during a time of profound unrest, conflict, and anxiety. Our world and our church are in labor, struggling for a birth, a release, new life, The feelings of fear, hopelessness, and anxiety that have invaded the lives of all of us call for healing and a new vision. The luminous mysteries of the rosary offer all Christians a new perspective, a new graced opportunity to deepen our understanding and love of our faith, namely, by bringing the public life of Jesus into the rosary. Here we can find refreshment for our souls in these complicated and strife-filled days. We can also find here an additional special gift as vowed religious. I would like to examine the new mysteries in relation to ~onsecrated Mary Joseph Schultz SCC is president of Assumption College for Sisters, the only rerfiaining sister-formation college in the United States. Her address there is 350 Bernardsville Road; Mendham, New Jersey 07945. Revie-w for Religious life, reflecting on how each one can be linked to an essential element of it. The Baptism of Jesus--"You are my beloved Son. On you my fax;or rests" (Mk 1:11). Baptism the Foundation of Religious Life. By virtue of our baptism, all Christians are consecrated for evangelization. We are reborn in Christ; our life is no longer our own. This exalted reality of the indwelling, always challenging and sometimes downright scary, takes a lifetime, indeed an eternity, to grasp. We have been chosen by God to take on the image of his Son, to be his child in our world today. And naturally we cannot attempt this alone, but God's abiding presence, the surpassing gift of grace, enables and ennobles us from within. What does being reborn in Christ imply, particularly for a religious? We are doubly chosen. Cradle Catholics were first called by God through our own particular birth circumstances; converts to Catholicism followed a circuitous adaptive route to being cleansed, empowered, Christified. Whatever the circumstances of our baptism, we have been called and sent, challenged by the Spirit to put on Christ. But as religious our further call is yet more radical. By our call to religious life, the fire that burns in the heart of all Christians is ignited into a new flame of desire for deeper union, deeper consecration, through the gift of our lives. As John Paul II tells us in Vita consecrata, "in such a life baptismal consecration develops into a radical response in the following of Christ through acceptance of the evangelical counsels" (§14). Apart from the consecration of our baptism, it is unlikely that we would .have heard any call to religious life. It is baptism's sacramental spark that ignites the steady flame of Christianity. But, for the steady flame to be strong, it requires of everyone the living of the evangelical counsels. For religious there is a renewed 62.4 2003 Scbultz ¯ Mirroring yesus commitment to them. This is a new source of fuel, our life newly offered to God in all its aspects, like so many grains of incense. The religious life, often symbolized by burning candles too, takes on a new intensity and brings the baptismal vows into a concentrated focus. Perhaps this is why the profession of the evangelical counsels has never been elevated to being a sacrament in the Catholic Church (which some have proposed). It is so obviously an efflorescence of the permanent sacramental character of baptism already present. It is also a deepening of that already living root. The Wedding Feast of Cana--"Do whatever he tells you" (In 2:5). Obedience. In this wonderfully human and touching scene from the life of Jesus, we hear the only recorded words spoken by Mary during the public life of her Son: "They have no wine" and "Do whatever he tells you." Indeed, these words inaugurate his public life. And, for religious women and men, this scene and these words teach a lesson on the vow of obedience. During the thirty years or so since I began learning about the vows in the novitiate, obedience, of all the vows, has undergone the greatest transformation. It has also held the most difficult challenges. (As in most paschal realities, these are not unrelated developments.) My juvenile understanding of "blind" obedience and merely "doing what your superior tells you" has unfolded into a passionate desire to seek the will of God in all its manifestations. Let us face it, how many direct injunctions do community leaders issue during a year to the group as a whole or to me individually? My obedience must be daily and personal. It cannot be relegated to a once-a-year acceptance of my assigned apostolate, though that has sometimes been traumatic enough. Because of the gift of my vow of obedience, I Review for Religious must strive each and every day to hear God speaking to me in a multitude of people, places, and circumstances. I must keep my heart attentive to all of God's calls and then responsive, doing "whatever he tells you." The response could be as small as picking up the phone when I am already engrossed in another task, or lovingly setting aside my own agenda when a sister needs my help. It could be as large as accepting a call to community leadership, or adjusting to the death of a loved one. I laid down my will at my profession. The "freedom" I renounced back then has given rise to a new deeper freedom of spirit. I am free to pursue holiness through the directives of God mediated by my community leadership, other community members, and the circumstances of my life. United with my sisters in community, I stand before God's will, ready to discern and accept. This requires an ongoing grace of faith, a sense of responsibility for myself and others, and a growing awareness of my gifts and limitations. In due time Jesus takes the water of my desire and turns it into the wine of his desire for me. Because of the gift of my vow of obedience, I must strive each and every day to hear God speaking to me in a multitude of people, places, and circumstances. Proclamation of the Kingdom--"The kingdom of God is at hand" (Mk 1:15). Chastity. In the eyes of society today, chastity for the sake of the kingdom is perhaps the most mystifying and countercultural of the three vows. It has been much written about in the past two years alone. Vv'hy give up marriage and the practice of a holy sexuality when it is 62.4 2003 Scbultz ¯ Mirroring yesus such a gift of God, when the witness of true marital fidelity is so sorely needed in today's world? Precisely to proclaim the kingdom! As John Paul II tells us in Vita consecrata: "Yes, in Christ it is possible to love God with all one's heart, putting him above every other love, and thus to love every creature with the freedom of God!" (§88). Not only is it possible, if one has really been called to it and possesses the graced capacity for the vow, but it is a most powerful means for proclaiming the message of the kingdom. The pure love called forth by this vow flows .from the very life of the Trinity, a communitarian life and love revealed to us in Christ. This life, this very same love, is the "stuff" of the Good News that we are called to proclaim, first by our lives, then by words if necessary, as St. Francis would say. By the evangelical counsels consecrated persons are immersed in the life of the Trinity, freed from the constrictions of an exclusive love, able to be totally available for the mission of the church as lived according to the particular community's charism. My chastity enables my obedience to come to fruition as I am called from one ministry to another, one house to another, even from one moment to another. I can and should live my life unattached, in the light of faith, with the joyful freedom of the new heavens and the new earth (see Rv 21:1). I have died and risen with Christ, and I am called to live in the now of the kingdom. The life of a religious man or woman symbolizes what it in fact is, a contact point between Christ and his church--and God's kingdom is truly at hand. The Transfiguration--"And he was transfigured before them" (Mt 17:2). Poverty. This mystical event in the life of Jesus gives his three apostles a glimpse of who he really is. His Review for Religious divinity shines forth, and they behold the glorious face of the Son of God. In reflecting on this incident afterwards, did it not strike them over and over what a tremendous emptying had taken place when Jesus assumed our human nature and for thirty-three years walked the earth as ordinary as themselves? These apostles, unlettered though they were, could not help reflecting on what they had witnessed. They were able to surmise the real identity of the One who called them to follow, the One for whom they too were emptying themselves, relinquishing things in their discipleship. During the vision Peter had exclaimed, "Lord, how good that we are here!" (Mt 17:4). Then he wanted to install three tents and make the experience a more permanent one. Jesus, however, drew them out of their mystical reverie: "When they raised their eyes, they saw no one else but Jesus alone" (Mr 17:8). He walked with them down the mountain, back to ordinary reality. This was the ordinary-looking Jesus, the man they knew and were used to, the friend they were leaving their ordinary lives to follow. He was "himself" again, and asking them to say nothing of what they had seen. For religious women and men who have left all things to follow the Master, the transfiguration can serve as a meditation on our vow of poverty. Jesus in his divine frugality "left behind" his Godhead to assume humanity, but how divine this poverty is, this incarnation, this "taking the form of a slave and being born in the likeness For religious women and men who have left all things to follow the Master, the transfiguration can serve as a meditation on our vow of poverty. 62.4 2003 Scbultz ¯ Mirroring Jesus of men" (Ph 2:7)! While on his earthly mission, Jesus downplayed his divinity or kept it to himself except for this sacred moment when his human poverty became apparent by contrast. Later Calvary was seen as the ultimate of human pain and humiliation, not by contrast as on Tabor, but in the depths of its willing self-sacrifice. By religious poverty we voluntarily give up personal accumulation and full personal use of worldly goods, even such things as time and talent. This emptying for the sake of Christlike availability is a way of doing something radical for God. It is true imitation of Jesus, "who made himself poor though he was rich" (2 Co 8:9). Where better do we see this stark reality than on Tabor? Living this vow, following the pattern of Christ, calls us to be poor in fact as well as in spirit. Religious need to give evidence of a simple lifestyle, with variations according to community charisms. We need to follow the call to empty ourselves radically, in imitation of the One who for our sake modeled a life of emptiness perfecdy. We face the challenge, especially in a materialistic society, of opting not to have, not to be caught up in the consumer mentality that is so suffocating and numbing. This voluntary self-renunciation makes sense only with the humble Christ before our eyes as ideal and strength. The Institution of the Eucharist--"This is my body to be given for you" (Lk 22:19). Community and Holiness. Religious life without a focus on the Eucharist is, to me, unthinkable and unlivable. How better can we be Christ, fulfill our baptismal consecration, and live the evangelical counsels than by daily receiving our nourishment from his very body and blood, by becoming what we eat? The gift of the Eucharist is the divine imagination's chosen way to be with us always, even to the end of time. Tending toward the holiness to which all founders and foundresses Review for Religious aspired, whatever their historical milieu, the members of religious communities must seek the Source of their graced desire for holiness in their Eucharistic communion. Finding it there, they also nurture one another. The bond of community is one of the distinguishing marks of religious life. We came to accomplish together what none of us can do alone. As members of the Mystical Body by virtue of baptism, we draw strength, light, and urgent zeal for evangelization from the sacramental Christ. "In the celebration of the mystery of the Lord's body and blood, the unity and charity of those who have consecrated their lives to God are strengthened and increased" (Vita consecrata, §95). In communal worship, community members reflect on Jesus' act of servitude in the washing of feet, his giving of himself in service. Turning to one another, we daily echo his words about his body being given for us (see Lk 22:19). To you, my sister, to you, my brother, in community, I give the gift of my personhood. Becoming bread and wine for the world, becoming nourishment for God's pilgrim people through our various ministries, is what consecrated persons are called to. No matter what our apostolic works entail, no matter where or how we minister to God's people, whether through prayer or action, we as religious are called and consecrated for holiness. We owe it to the Mystical Body. We owe it to the world. Our call, though individually discerned and individually professed, is lived in common. Our holiness can never be a private matter. We must be and become ever more really what we have publicly professed. While I am by no means suggesting that religious are on a pedestal, we surely are in a fishbowl, especially in the last few years. We must be who we say we are. Today's people have the right to expect that, when they look at religious, they will truly catch a glimpse of 62.4 2003 Schultz ¯ Mirroring Jesus Christ and the gospel values he preached and lived. It is he who must shine forth publicly. It is he who mysteriously and subdy works thi'ough our dull and sinful human selves, alone and in community. For putting on Christ, for living our vows and making ourselves receptive to communal Eucharistic holiness, we can hope to find the rosary's luminous mysteries providing us with fresh encouragement. Mary, our mother and guiding star, will be there as we begin, and at the end, and in between. Exchanging Gifts Even then, in that first star-guided Giving of gifts imported from lands afar: Not the most practical or the most useful For a young household, those gifts are That they offer: gold (of course, money Matters at any season of any year), . But however richly boxed, their potpourris Of high-priced frankincense and myrrh Fail to feed a family; still, nothing At all was ever expected in return, Unlike our ritual passings back and forth Of pricy imports and baubles, meant to earn More than mere admiration: the like exchange Endlessly of acquisitions from off the shelves Of shops, while that first starlit gift-recipient Gives us back endlessly our ransomed selves. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious PETER CANTWELL Why Newly Professed Religious Leave This article was written to assist Franciscan lead-ers. They and others found it helpful.Without rewriting .it at the risk of losing some of its orig-inal flav~r, I offer it to other religious in the continuin~ conversation about this vital issue. As Francis of Assisi neared death, he said to his brothers, "I have done what is mine to do; may Christ teach you what is yours to do.''1 Implied in these words is a challenge for his followers to discover anew in each generation how to express his ideals. There can never be one fixed expression of such a rich gospel charism, nor should there be. Every age, every season of life, and every culture requires us to dig deep into the gospel as Franci~ read it and find new ways to live his simple but demanding religious perspectives Peter Cantwell OFIM, a Franciscan friar, has been a lecturer and practitioner in individual, couples, and family therapy for thirty years, and is director of ongoing formation for the Australian Franciscan province. His address is St. Francis Xavier Church; 1087 Whitehorse Road; Box Hill, Victoria 3128; Australia. 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Wby Newly Professed Religious Leave message. Failure to take up that challenge condemns us to irrelevance and extinction. Over recent years I have often reflected on why some young friars who join us with enthusiasm and excitement depart from our community soon after final commit-ment. Just at that moment when possibilities for min-istry open out, when there is the exciting chance to walk the path of Francis in our world, some choose to leave us. (Incidentally, I believe the following reflections also apply to why more young men do not join us.) These are my own personal musings on this vexing question, musings with which you, the reader, might dis-agree. Behind them lie some of my own story in the Franciscans and several of my deeply held beliefs about our life. For thirty years I have been involved in renewal programs for religious and in the screening program for candidates for our Australian province. As a professional counselor I have helped many religious and priests at the moment of their departure. Visiting other provinces of the order, I have observed similar phenomena. My teaching of counseling in secular and religious tertiary settings has enabled me to talk with adults about how they see religious life. Behind my reflections are one deep personal convic-tion and one fact. My conviction is that the message and ideals of Francis--of bringing the gospel's peace mes-sage to the world, of seeing beyond the allurement of consumerism, of having a special concern for the poor-- are what is most needed by today's world, particularly today's youth. There is no malaise in the ideals proposed to us by Francis. They are as radiant and relevant as ever they were. The fact about Franciscan religious life today is that there is a gap--though perhaps it is narrowing-- between Francis's ideals for us friars and the lived real-ity of our fraternal lives and ministries. We express 6ur ideals in ways that have lost their relevance. Because of Review for Religious this, some young religious cannot recognize the fire of Francis in our daily structures, and they seek to imple-ment their ideals elsewhere. I do not share the pessimism of friars who say they would not invite young people to join us. I find such defeatism thoroughly unlike Francis; it betrays an unwill-ingness to make changes that we need to make. I write these reflections with hope and rising excitement. Hope and possibility are being shown by those with daring and vision. Baggage We Still Carry with Us In thinking and (alking about why young friars leave, we have often focused on only part of the picture. Thus, some have said that young friars leave because their gen-eration is selfish and not willing to make a commitment. Recent developments in family therapy suggest looking to the big picture--the whole family or, in our case, the whole "system"--for the cure. Formerly, acting-out ado-lescents were usually treated with individual therapy, on the theory that there was something wrong within the adolescent: correct that and all would be fine. But often there was a relapse. Therapy began to realize that the problem might be a reflection of what was happening in the entire family--and that the entire family might need to change its way of operating. Certainly there are times when the difficulty is mostly within the individual, but people cannot not be affected by the systems in which they live. Can these insights help us understand why some friars leave? Is saying that young brothers leave because their generation is "selfish and unwilling to make com-mitments" being fair about the part the system of reli-gious life plays in their departure? When I joined religious life in the mid 1950s, it somewhat resembled what is sociologically called a "total 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave Francis founded his brotherhood as complementary to the monastic movement. institution," one where the identity of the institution assumes priority Over the identities of the individuals who make it up. We dressed identically; we were exhorted to behave the same. To stand out or be "sin-gular" might indicate pride. Community life was the con-veyer of grace, so conformity to a detailed daily regimen was expected. Personal relationships were discouraged because they endangered celibacy: We were trained to be self-contained and to let our conformity and work express our commitment. Though much is now chang-ing, the nonrelational tone of some communities can cause isolation in young friars. Contemporary research says that religious life had become caught in a monastic lifestyle that many founders did not want) Francis founded his brotherhood as com-plementary to the monastic movement. He deliberately did not want to be absorbed into monasticism. He founded us to be a stark challenge, even a shock, to both civil and ecclesiastical society through living the gospel in a radical and transparent way. After his death the brothers, channeled into the monastic movement, lost mobility, lostpublic visibility, and lost a credible lifestyle. One writer says that we were tamed by the insti-tutional church. We do not live on the edge anymore except by courageous individual choice.3 Young friars find these monastic remnants quaint and a block to their ide-alistic vision. Do we provide opportunity for them to live out their dreams, or are they merely educated to fit in? After the departure of a young brother, I have heard such remarks as "He lost his vocation. I could see it coming. He had all those friends outside community." l~eview for l~etigious These words may reflect a theologically crass way of describing a vocation, absolving the community of any contribution to the departure. The vocation seems to be pictured as something in a hermetically sealed container, given to the recipient by God, and totally immune to and separate from fraternal influences. On one level there is nothing mysterious about the growth of a vocation. I had never met a Franciscan till I did a retreat during the last year of high school. I was impressed by the Franciscan who gave the retreat. He had been a professional reporter with a bright economic future, but he gave it up to be a friar. I thought there must be something pretty good in that life. I approached him. He was interested in me, came to visit my family, kept contact, became a friend (with a big age difference). He nurtured my interest and fanned the small flame of inquiry. He gave me literature on Francis, and I discov-ered that Francis had made a similar decision seven hun-dred years earlier. Francis had everything he wanted, but realized it was not enough. Wow! I could feel excite-ment when I left home to join thefriars. My three broth-ers had all married and were pleased with their choices. I felt I was making an equally exciting choice. It was the start of an adventure, an adventure that has never stopped. Friars supported me and cared for me; I formed deep friendships over the years. These friends offered me opportunities, and they challenged me to live the life. Would my vocation have .grown without them? Could I have nurtured my personal "grace of vocation" without them? I doubt it. A vocation is a delicate seed. It needs warmth and careful watering, especially during the early days. The atmosphere, the environment, affects its interior and exterior development. In a recent article a young per-son says that "true rapport, indeed a real friendship, with one religious is more valuable in discernment than one 62.4 2003 Cant'well ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave IIll hundred religious asking me if I am interested in their order . It is very important that religious communi-ties develop friendships with us that nurture growth in faith and commitment to God.''4 In looking at the place of larger systems in the devel-opment of a vocation, we must say a word about the church. As is the case in the order, there are many seeds of hope within the church today. But ~here is something else as well. In a secular university where I teach coun-seling a couple of days a week, I have wonderful students on the whole, postgraduate students of mature age. About a third of them are nonpracticing Catholics. We often have interesting discussions at lunch breaks. They find it hard to understand how someone who is more qualified in their profession than they are can be both-ered being highly involved in church matters. They are not angry with the church. They just find the church irrelevant. The church sometimes gives the impression that it does not need to listen to people's .needs, that it knows the questions they should be asking. But, as Giacomo Bini says, the church can spend its time answer-ing questions that people are not asking. A Change of Culture The worst way we friars can live our Franciscan com-mitment is to ape in our time what Francis did in his. Our age presents challenges different from his, and here lies the rub. As friars we are called to be mobile, not only with our dwellings and our phones, but with our thinking. Change is of the essence of decent physical, emotional, spiritual, communal growth. The strange thing is not that yeligious life is changing, but that it managed to stay the same for so long. "It is equilibrium, not change, that is fatal." 5 The challenge is that we need to change. Are we Willing? The following thoughts try to catch the spirit of our Review for Religious times, point out the needs that we have to answer, sketch the cultural milieu to which we have to be relevant with our exciting Message. To be relevant, we will have to make 180-degree turns in many areas. Years after we ourselves grew up, what are some of the characteristics of the culture in which our new friars have grown up? One dramatic change in today's society is a shift from a work world to a relational world. Recent research in Australia society shows that around one-fourth of the people between the ages of thirty and sixty are "down-shifters"; that is, they have changed careers or reduced work hours and taken a pay cut in order to have more time for family and friends: "The lifestyle has given them a wealth of new friends from a wide cross-section of backgrounds, and the dis-tinction of knowing the names 0f everyone who lives in their street.''6 Obviously not all people are choosing to make this shift, nor should they, but it represents a new emphasis in modern life, a move away from workplace efficiency toward the full growth of the human person. The young writer quoted earlier supports such adaptation: "One of the most com-monly found features of Generation X is its sense of iso-lation and its yearning for stable companionship . We Xers are drawn wherever we feel welcome and find friendship.''7 "Intimacy" (how I relate to another human being) is an important element of human growth, occurring in early adulthood and building on people's sense of iden-tity (who I am). In popular parlance, intimacy is often wrongly identified with sexual intimacy. Intimacy tech- One dramatic change in today's society is a shift from a work world to a relational world. 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave nically means the capacity to function "up close" to another person in any situation of life. There is no evi-dence that physical sexual intimacy is "necessary for mature development, but there is a wealth of evidence that having close friends, feeling cared for and loved, and being able to relate to others without unnecessary barriers are central to happiness. Closely allied to having healthy relationships is the search for true community. More so than previous gen-erations, today's young people meet many of their inti-macy needs by belonging to a group. A young person observes that in his view "religious life is special in pro-viding everyday community practices that foster spiri-tual growth in ways that are difficult to find on one's own.''8 The young today value being in a supportive envi-ronment more than having job security. The breakdown of traditional neighborhoods and the mobility of Western populations are the causes of much loneliness and isola-tion. The multitude of support groups--from therapy groups to reading groups--witnesses to contemporary culture's hunger for community. Young adults do not Seek community as a soft option: "We do not want community just to comfort, us and give us a sense of security. We want to be stretched and chal-lenged to serve God and others with the community life serving as a support that allows us to reach beyond our-selves in the service of God through prayer and works.''9 And they actually seek structures in community, but ones that are alive and thoughtful and provide human and spiritual support. Among the tertiary students I teach, I find it.easy to initiate a discussion on "spirituality," but mention the word religion and the energy for the discussion dimin-ishes. "Religion" is seen to be connected to mainstream churches, which are often experienced as irrelevant. The young seek a spirituality that builds on human whole- Review for Religious ness. For them being "fully spiritual" is being "fully human." They often experience mainstream church life as a spiritual desert. "Xers are known for their great spir-itual hunger. When this deep hunger for religious mean-ing has not been satisfied within the religious practice of families, many of us have looked outside of the tradi-tional familial practices to come into contact with the transcendent meaning that we crave." 10 Young adults today are perceptive about genuine-ness: the medium is the message. "Religious need to present, themselves as people who have benefited immensely from their vocation and have found peace, mission, love, and a passion for the gospel and for God through their decision."11 The culture of the young has little time for the phony, for performance that does not come from the heart. They are very sensitive to any gap between what we ask them to profess and what they observe us living. Do we ask them to profess "poverty" and then live like upper-middle-class people? "In sum, Xers are not going to make a radical countercultural decision unless they see a radical lifestyle being lived out, one that has benefits that married life does not.''12 We ask them to give up everything. What is the excit-ing challenge we offer them? I am convinced that the issue for today's world is "justice," especially for disenfranchised groups and par-ticularly those without a social voice. Issues of church dogma--while not in any sense unimportant--evoke lit-tle energy compared with issues of people's rights to just treatment. Daily newspapers are full of human-rights and justice issues. "Experience indicates that [young adults] have a very strong sense of the common good and of collective social and civic responsibility.''13 They have little truck with cover-ups and social dishonesty, and find the behavior of some church officials in recent sexual-abuse issues obnoxious. 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave Today's young adults demand authenticity of person and action. Seeds of New Life My hope for the future of our brotherly life comes from my conviction that Francis calls us to a style of fra-ternal living and mission for which there is a thirst in our culture. If our young adults are calling for transpar-ent authenticity in personal life, for communal life that is supportive and challenging, for relationships rather than material efficiency, for spiritualwholeness, and for engage-ment with justice and peace in our world. Are these things not the message of Francis of Assisi and the ideals that today's Franciscans have at heart? It would take us beyond the present article to elabo-rate on these five emphases, nor is it necessary. I would like simply to quote from our Rule, from the contem-porary document Priorities of the Order, and from sev-eral other sources to show that what the young seek has always been and is now central in theory to our life. Today's young adults demand authenticity of person and action. Nothing characterized the life of Francis more than his untiring personal conversion, his belief that the best message he could offer to people was the transparency of his own life, being a "living memory of the gospel ofJes.us.''14 His journey to La Verna was a call to purify his own life, to make it as close to his Lord's as possible. The stigmata was the recognition, the physical manifestation~ of the union of Francis's spirit with that of his Lord. For Francis, fraternity is the first witness of the apos-tolate. For him, our relationship with our brothers and, of course, with God is the foundation of our way of life. What statement on fraternity could be better than the one in our Rule (chapter vI)? "And wherever the broth-ers may be together or meet [other] brothers, let them Review for Religious give witness that they are members of the one family. And let each one confidently make known his need to the other, for, if a mother has such care and love for her son born according to the flesh, should not someone love and care for his brother according to the Spirit even more diligently? And, if any of them become sick, the other brothers should serve him as they would wish to be served themselves." 15 The recent publication from our general chapter offers the same challenge for fraternity: "The Project of Fraternal Life. should be drawn up. so as to help the ministers, guardians, and friars to build up a real and profound fraternal life, to cultivate human values like dialogue, deep-level communication, a family spirit, mutual friendship, courtesy, willingness to serve, joy, jus-tice, transparency." 16 And Giacomo Bini says: "What a paradise . . . the atmosphere of the community becomes when the mem-bers have learned how to get to know one another and to engage in dialogue with themselves, with God, and with the others . We must therefore invest all our talents in promoting a formation to fraternal relationships and to relations with God. No excuses are acceptable: neither age nor temperament nor 'venerable' tradition can dis-pense us from this duty.''~7 One of the most delightful characteristics of both Francis and Clare was their abil-ity to relate to the high and the lowly, the rich and the poor, the powerless and the powerful, with equal com-mitment of spirit. The primacy of the spiritual in young people's search is highlighted in one simple quotation from Francis's Rule: "Those brothers to whom the Lord has given the grace of working should do their work faithfully and devotedly so that, avoiding idleness, the enemy of the soul, they do not extinguish the Spirit of holy prayer and devotion to which all other things of our earthly exis- 62.4 2003 Cantwell * Wb~ Newl~ Professed Religious Leave tence must contribute." 18 And in Priorities of the Order we are told: "The contemplative dimension must be that priority which orientates and animates our whole life: the manner in which we seek and live the presence of God in every day also determines our concrete style of life and our manner of pastoral action in the Fraternity.''19 Francis has been strongly identified with the peace movement, and his peace prayer is recited by many inside and outside the church. Francis devoted his energies to the justice and peace issues of his time. His attempts to mediate between local warring towns and his journey to speak with the Sultan of Egypt are just some examples of his commitment to and preoccupation with peace between peoples. The present pope gathered religious leaders in Assisi when he wished the world to pray for peace. The increasing concern with justice and peace throughout our order--seen in recent publications from our JPIC office in Rome and in the heavy involvement of friars in different parts of the world--witnesses to the clear focus of our communities on these issues. Priorities of the Order sums up the same idea: "The friars in their lives and in their words should be promoters of justice, and heralds and builders of peace and reconciliation, so as to be prophetic signs which fearlessly denounce all that which destroys the dignity of man and of creation." 20 How We Can HelpClose the Gap I believe that some friars leave our fraternity soon after final commitment because the gap between the "lived experience" of fraternal life and ministry and the ideals that were fostered and experienced during initial formation becomes too broad. Great work has been done on initial formation in our order over recent decades, but with final commitment the friar experiences the more ordinary lifestyle of the brotherhood. This older system with its more impersonal tone, overly routinized prayer Review for Religious life, and rugged individualism leaves them feeling iso-lated and unsupported, and they become work-oriented. After years of counseling numerous religious who have left, it is hard for me to remember someone who departed because interesting ministry was unavailable. The common comment has been that life became "too damn lonely." How can the different parties help to close the gap in this time of transition? Times of transition involve cri-sis, and any crisis has two possibilities: opportunity if the crisis is faced, danger oth-erwise. Facing the crisis means avoiding any split by keeping the conversation going, talking of differences and commonali-ties. No one side ever has the whole truth; the truth is a shared truth. I note much good-will on the part of older friars and enthusiasm on the part of the younger ones. There is much "good wine" in both generations. Given this good environment for cooperation, how can we work together? Are there practical moves we can all make? The follow-ing are some of my random suggestions, and maybe you can come up with others: We need to continue moving away from monastic-style buildings towards more ordinary homes. We need to find more visible, credible, and transparent ways of living. For many friars brought up on the older model, where relationships were discouraged and closeness was taboo, this change could present challenges. Contemporary research on religious life indicates that there is a move towards small groups immersed in local communities where there can be a more relational life. "We have need in our society for a countercultural way of life that wit- No one side ever has the whole truth; the truth is a shared truth. 62.4 2003 Cant'well ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave nesses to the gospel call to transcend hedonism, greed, and the desire to dominate.''21 Living in more ordinary houses also makes us more mobile. If we need to do something different, we just sell and buy an ordinary house and are not stuck with a monastery to sell. But young friars .are often looking (like Francis) for a deeper challenge than "living in ordinary houses." They would like to live more simply than their ¯ surrounding culture. They are looking for a palpable sacrifice expressed in our way of living. Smaller houses also demand some of the ordinary decencies of day-to-day living that can be avoided in large houses: "How was your day?" "Sorry!" "Thank you." "May I--?" (Incidentally, the increasing tendency for religious to live alone in ordinary dwellings avoids, in my view, one of the fundamental witnesses of religious commitment.) My own picture of future community life has us liv-ing in ordinary houses and going from there to work. This provides some kind of boundary between work and fraternity. The very acts of leaving home for work and returning home after work are important symbolically. There is no reason why a parish community could not live in an ordinary house within the parish. Friars whose ministry is giving retreats or giving parish missions or working with the poor in the immediate neighborhood or teaching in a nearby school could live fraternally in an ordinary house. We should be slow to build homes or offices specifically for ourselves. If we need office space, we can always buy or rent--then move more easily if the need arises. The move to smaller community living requires more "conscious formation in relationships. Many of the broth-ers in my age group missed out on the "intimacy" stage of formation. There was no encouragement towards friend.ships, towards closeness, towards just ordinary con-nection with other friars. Often those who joined reli- Review for Religious gious life as late vocations have already experienced this stage of development. Gentle encouragement for older religious towards a more relational life can be a big help. Larger communities are sometimes necessary, espe-cially for those who are ill or need more attention, but a large building does not have to impede good fraternity. Attitude is the ruling factor. For instance, even a large din-ing room can be made homey through the use of smaller tables and random seating. House meetings can address, besides strictly busi-ness agendas, matters such as "How are we with each other?" Simple questions like "What is going well in the community?" and "What needs to happen for our life together to be even better?" focus on the positive and require friars to look ahead rather than grumble about difficulties. Such questions create space for friars' needs to be attended to regularly--a good principle of group dynamics. Having a community night--no scheduled work and no work" unless urge.nt--can really help to build frater-nity. Make the night a little special. The meal might be special or served differently or eaten later. The spiritual aspect of our lives should be present. A Eucharist that is thoughtfully prepared is one option, or a special variation on the prayer of the breviary. We need to keep reviewing our commitment to our min-istries, Youth are looking for an exciting ministry that gives witness to our Franciscan values. No ministry is excluded for us, but each ministry must flow out of who we are. The area of our lives which has been most tamed by the institutional church is that of ministry. We have become very mainstream. "Is the societal need that moved us into these works many years ago still relevant? Is the countercultural stance that characterized the socially radical and politica!ly subversive vision of the founders still operative?''22 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave Why are we doing what we are doing? One reason offered is "We have been doing it for a long time." Not good enough. Another is "We are doing good work and the people love us." I hope that the people will always love us, but that is not a sufficient reason to stay or.go. One danger is that, as priests become fewer, we will be tempted to fill slots for demanding bishops. We speak much about preferential option for the poor. Some of the exciting ventures in our order--and quite ordinary ones as well--are focused on this societal need. In my own province we have a small community of friars living in a housing settlement. They are doing great work in ordinary ways: forming neighborhood groups to keep the suburb clean, finding furniture for the needy, helping build local community support groups, being resources for addressing neighborhood troubles. Young men who are thinking of joining us rightly ask: "Why are you Franciscans doing that particular min-istry?" Can we answer them? I believe the recently introduced custom of mentoring younger friars is an excellent idea that deserves being imple-mented. Being a mentor has been challenging for me, and I believe that it has helped build bridges. Being mentored by more experienced friars has helped me enormously. Meetings of young friars and even meetings, of young reli-gious from different congregations provide support through the sharing of experiences and thus getting a sense of solidarity in a common venture. When the meeting has involved only friars, they have appreciated the presence of the provincial administration for some of the time during the meeting. Meetings of friars in which the experiences of the differ-ent age groups are shared can help build bridges. Recently in my province we asked our two newly professed friars, who had completed a very good novitiate in another Review for Religious pro-~ince, to share with us their experience of the novi-tiate. The theme was expanded to include what young people seek in religious life. Young and old enjoyed the experience. Often what seems like bad will is lack of information. I believe that young friars benefit enormously from hearing the experiences of the older friars, and that sharings like these help close the gap between generations. The proviso is always the priority on listening, coming to learn and understand, rather than being a know-all on either side. In particular, are we attentive to the promptings of the Spirit in the young friars? Do their contributions have their rightful effect on policy decisions? Have we helped them to be skilled at the culture gap? I want to make special mention of the great wisdom and contribution of the older friars. Often in this paper I have referred to age gaps. More correctly, they are cul-ture gaps. Some of the most up-to-date, psychologically flexible, and spiritually wise friars are those who have borne the heat of the day and who are able to offer their wisdom to any who listen. Keeping the conversation going between the different age groups is important in a time of transition. If we do not talk to each other, we build up fantasies of what "that other group" is thinking or doing. I believe we all have lo~s of goodwill, and behind our unwillingness is often fear. When I was prenovitiate director, I used to invite any friar who was passing through the area to "come and talk to the prenovices." The common worry was: "What will I talk about? I don't understand young people?" My response was: "Simply tell them what it has been like for you to be a follower of Francis." We had many enjoy-abl. e evenings, and imagined barriers were broken down. A prayer life that is simple but refreshing is the core of my fraternal life. There are many simple ways to vary common prayer: sing the hymn or play a CD, have some-one read the canticle reflectively, have silence instead of 62.4 2003 Cantwell * Wby Newly Professed Religious Leave Youth hearken to religious callings that offer a countercultural witness to the cultural trends of greed, power, consumerism, individualism. one of the psalms, omit a psalm and have a longer gospel reading or a nonscriptural reading. These suggestions do not require hours of preparation, but they draw us out of a numbing routine that certainly does not refresh my spirit. Faith sharing, too, deepens the experience of fraternity. There is often fear when faith sharing is mentioned: par-ticipants feel they will be asked to bare their souls before the brethren. I like to begin such sessions by saying that it is fine for any friar to be totally silent if that is his wish. One group with which I meet has a simple shared prayer that goes like this. First of all a text is read, usually from the Scriptures. After a short silence anyone who wishes shares just a phrase or word that stood out for him (no embellishment). The text is read a ,second time followed ¯ by a few minutes of silence. Then anyone who wishes . tells briefly what that text means to him or her. Finally we round off with a prayer. I always come away with some small inspiration. We will probably become poorer as a fraternity. Youth hearken to religious callings that offer a countercultural witness to the cultural trends of greed, power, con-sumerism, individualism. One of the most difficult chal-lenges I personally find is not taking the standards of average Australian society as the ones-for my own life. Some young friars have said that, when they joined the order, they went "up" in their standard of living. Can I live in such a way that, when lay people visit the com- Revie~ for Religious munity (or my room), they would find a simplicity of lifestyle that would make them think? Can we use for others the money people generously give us for our min-istry- and maintain a simple lifestyle in our fraternities? I believe Francis would want us to. As our numbers become smaller, we will probably become poorer as an order. I believe that will not do us any harm. When people--of whatever culture or race-- find that we are actually living side by side with them and are in need, they will provide for us. Finally, dare we do something new and exciting when numbers are going down--or even because numbers are going down? If young friars experience only the closing down of houses and nothing else, they might just feel they are on a sinking ship. If I Were a Young Man. If I were a young man with many bright opportuni-ties in Life before me, what kind: of Franciscan religious life would inspire me to join the fraternity? ¯ When I met individual friars, I would want to see the light in their eyes (like I found in the first friar I met) that would tell me they lived life with a passion. ¯ When I visited the communities~ I would want to feel genuinely welcomed (and I reckon I would quickly work out whether it was genuine, or not), not just another statistic. As I joined in community prayer, I would hope to find it fairly simple and thoughtful, not a rushed ver-sion of monastic prayei'. I would not want a lot of prayer--rather a quality about what I experience. And a certain atmosphere of silence at some times of the day would appeal to me. ¯ At recreation I would want to feel that the friars really wanted to have fun together and were not just going through another routine. I would be listening for such ordinary comments as "How was your day? What 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave were the results of Brother Juniper's visit to the doctor? Who has a new joke to tell?" ¯ I would want to talk to the older friars, to find out how they had experienced following Francis, to learn from their endurance and patience. I would want them to pray for my young journey and have confidence that I could make a contribution, even though different from theirs. I would want them to listen to my hopes, and I would want to hear theirs. Could they translate their struggles into something meaningful to me? ¯ I would hope the kitchen is a place where we all contribute--simple good food and good wine being essential to life. ¯ When they told me about their works, however simple, I would want to ask them why they did those particular things. How does the fire in their belly moti-vate what they do? I would be particularly excited about working for justice, for those without a social voice, for those who feel abandoned by our society. ¯ I would want to experience a rich diversity of min-istries: parishes (why this parish?), retreat work, work with the disadvantaged, skilled individuals doing some unusual ministries. The common denominator v~ould be the "Franciscan need." ¯ I would want to think that there is a certain mobil-ity about the brotherhood, that the friars have their ears to the ground ready to respond to new needs. ¯ I would want the accommodations to be simple yet comfortable--and that the rooms not be so self-contained as to be able to survive a nuclear attack. I would want the neighbors to call in when they think it important--and to be able to share our prayer life. But I would also hope there was a certain sacred space just for the community. ¯ I would want to feel encouraged to give rein to my dreams, to feel there is space for new wine as well as old. ¯ I would be most affected by friars who palpably Review for Religious enjoyed and passionately lived their lives, and who felt fulfilled as human beings and followers of Francis. Franciscan Fire I believe our world today is crying out for precisely those human and spiritual attitudes that Francis of Assisi lived so courageously. Through no bad will, we seem to have lost some of Francis's fire through excessive struc-tures and institutionalization. There is excitement in rediscovering it today, seeing the spark in people's eyes when they hear of Francis. Why do young friars leave? The ultimate answers are all individual. But some leave because the gap between the ideals of Francis and the lived experience of Franciscan life is or appears too great. Rather than blame either side--for blame simply darkens the space between us--can we see these departures as a call to stir the fire in our own lives? Numbers do not really mat-ter. Whether we are few or many is irrelevant, provided that friars are not leaving our midst because we are uncertain trumpets of truly good news. Our task is to echo credibly the ringing values of the poor man of Assisi. Francis and Clare became living and prophetic words to the people of their time. We are challenged to do the same, not alone but in tune with the Spirit. Let the last word be Oscar Romero's: This is what we are about. We plant the seed that one day will grow. We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities. We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. 62.4 2003 Cantwell ¯ Why Newly Professed Religious Leave This enables us to do something, and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest. We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own. Notes 1 Murray 8odo, The Way of St. Francis (Cincinnati: St. Anthony Messenger Press, 1995), p. xvi. 2 Michael J. Breen (ed.), A Fire in the Forest: Religious Lift in Ireland, survey by John A. Weafer (Dublin: Veritas, 2001). 3 Johannes Baptist Metz, Followers of Christ: The Religious Life and the Church, trans. Thomas Linton (New York: Paulist Press, 1977). 4 Matthew T. Eggemeier, "Generation X and Religious Life: A Personal View," Review for Religious 59, no. 5 (September-October 2000): 485 and 484. s Breen and Weafer, Fire, p. 61. 6 Sydney Morning Herald, 11-12 January 2003, p. 12. 7 Eggemeier, "Generation X," p. 482. 8 Eggemeier, "Generation X," p. 482. 9 Eggemeier, "Generation X," p. 483. 10 Eggemeier, "Generation X," p. 481. 11 Eggemeier, "Generation X," p. 486. 12 Eggemeier, "Generation X," pp. 486-487. 13 Lori Spanbauer, "Snapshot of the Millennial Generation," Horizon 27, no. 2 (2001-2002): 15. ,4 Giacomo Bini, Clare of Assisi: A Song of Praise (Rome: Franciscan Press, 2002), p. 15. is Rule and General Constitutions of the Order of Friars Minor (Pulaski, Wisconsin: Franciscan Publishers, 1974), p. 29. 16 Priorities of the Order, General Chapter 1997 (Rome: Franciscan Press, 1998), pp. 8-9. 17 Giacomo Bini, Clare, p. 55. Review for Religious 18 Rule and General Constitutions, p. 28. ~9 Priorities of the Order, p. 6. 2o Priorities of the Order, p. 11. 2~ Breen and Weafer, Fire, p. 68. 2~ Breen and Weafer, Fire, p. 106. Seminary Woods The oak leaves quietly drift from the tall trees, landing softly on the lake, their edges curled skyward as they float along, blown by a gentle breeze. Father, may my hands ever be lifted to you in prayer, as I am blown about life's surface, a little leaf made to glorify your Name. Christine Diensberg OSF 62.4 2003 DONALD C. MALDARI Ignatian Insights into Evangelical Poverty Over the centuries Christian spirituality has, ironically, valued the practice of poverty as an aid to becoming rich in holiness. The inspiration for this evaluation of poverty comes first from its most limpid example, that of the kenosis (emptying) of the Son of God in the incarnation (Ph 2:7) and then from the lives of every person whom Christianity considers a saint. Catholic tradition recommends the practice of the "evangelical counsels" to all Christians as aids in their growth in holiness.~ They are manifold ascetical practices, especially obedience, poverty, and chastity, designed to counter sinful tendencies. They aim at checking human delusions of independence from God, such as pride and self-centeredness. They promote a relationship with God animated by the theological virtues of faith, hope, and love.2 They all appear oddly paradoxical, like pursuing wealth by way of poverty. Ignatius Loyola's spirituality sheds light on this paradox for all struggling to find hope. The young Ignatius sought fulfillment in the ways that conformed to the values of his or really any Donald C. Maldari SJ is an assistant professor in the Department of Religious Studies; Le Moyne College; Syracuse, New York 13 214. Review for Religious materialistic society: in riches and honor. His life was driven by the pursuit of courtly honor and of physical gratification. His convalescence from a serious wound at the battle of Pamplona forced him into a poverty of sorts: a lack of distractions that afforded him the opportunity to find authentic fulfillment in a newfound relationship with God. Upon reflection Ignatius concluded that the riches and honors that people seek may lead to a pride that is self-destructive. This pride obstructs a life-giving relationship with God. In order to battle against the suicidal temptation to self-sufficiency that riches, honors, and pride offer, Ignatius turned to evangelical poverty. Along with the great tradition of Christianity, the mature Ignatius understood evangelical poverty neither as destitution nor as austere disdain for material goods to earn divine favor. Destitution wounds the inherent dignity of human persons by depriving them of what they require to develop as God desires. Disdain for material goods denies the goodness with which God endowed creation. As is evident from the First Principle and Foundation of his Spiritual Exercises, Ignatius, on the contrary, rejoiced in the vocation to fulfillment that God extends to all people and recommended using created things for that purpose (SpEx §23). He grew to understand evangelical poverty as a spiritual attitude and material lifestyle that promotes the most fulfilling creaturely relationship with the Creator. That relationship is made possible by the life that flows from God to creatures, that is, by grace, and the hope that animates creatures and draws them into participation in the very life of God. There appears, therefore, to be a relationship between evangelical poverty and theological hope in the spirituality of Ignatius. Ignatius pursues evangelical poverty as a means of cultivating theological hope. This hope puts Ignatius in direct contact with God, as is 62.4 2003 Maldari ¯ I~natian Insights into Evangelical Povert~ Ignatius's spirituality of poverty and hope is countercultural, as is Christianity itself. characteristic of the theological virtues. One can trace the development of Ignatius's embrace of evangelical poverty in his Autobiography, and one can glimpse the results in the fragments of his Spiritual Diary that have survived. In these fragments one is privy to Ignatius's growing relationship with the Holy Trinity, which he perceives as a community of love that shares all it is and has. It, too, lives evangelical poverty! In his Spiritual Exercises Ignatius invites exercitants to develop their own relationships with the triune God. Ignatius's spirituality of poverty and hope is countercultural, as is Christianity itself. The Gospels assert that those who wish to live authentically need to lose their lives whereas those who selfishly cling to their lives destroy them. Sacrifice, the root meaning of which is "to make holy," seems inevitably to involve some sort of renunciation. The Christian tradition believes that this renunciation is necessary because of the sinful and selfish inclinations of humankind. Evangelical poverty is one of the sacrifices which Christianity values. The hope which it cultivates nourishes people, allowing them to participate even now in the life of God. Ignatius's Understanding of Evangelical Poverty Ignatius's Autobiography reveals a man who grows in his love for God. He attributes to God the initiative in their relationship, but recognizes that people can cooperate with God by taking graced action in developing the relationship. Ignatius grew in his recognition of the Son, the Second Person of the Trinity, as the mediator between God and humanity. He encounters the Son in all creation, Review for Religious which, created through him, is charged with his presence. He encounters him in a privileged way in the incarnate Christ, the fullness of the revelation of God. In Christ Ignatius experiences the dynamic of salvation: the descent of the Son into the human situation in order to effect the ascent of humanity into the life and work of God. As mentioned above, Ignatius relates to God not only in his divine unity but also as the divine community of the Holy Trinity. Poverty, which he refers to as a "mother," plays a crucial role in the development of Ignatius's relationship with this community (Constitutions, §287). As Maurice Giuliani opines, he even recognizes it in the Holy Trinity and in each of its members: The poverty of Jesus who does the work of his Father, the poverty of the divine Persons whose richness is the love which they have for each other, the poverty of the creature who wholeheartedly desires "reverence and respect" along with fidelity and service. How could Ignatius, thus interiorly instructed, henceforth choose anything else but this way of material poverty, a visible sign of human poverty vis-a-vis God and participation in the poverty of God himself?.3 Poverty was an ascetical practice for Ignatius. He understood asceticism as the exercise a person undertakes to attain a goal. His understanding of it developed from an integration of the insights of Christian tradition with insights drawn from his own experiences.4 He used it as an aid to his relationship with the Trinity.5 Javier Osuna Gil suggests that one consider Ignatius's understanding of asceticism from three perspectives: (1) as an effort to remove all disorder, all impediment, whatever makes us less free to receive the transforming action of God, who embraces us with his Love; (2) as a task for transforming oneself into an agile and flexible "instrument" of God, 62.4 2003 Maldari ¯ Ignatian Insights into Evangelical Poverty with increasing availability; and (3) as a way of "carrying the cross," the necessary cost of the historical impact between the project of Jesus and the project of this world.6 Ignatius uses ascetical practices in order to promote the disposition of sinners who seek to respond to Jesus' invitation to follow him and to cooperate in his mission.7 The Spiritual Exercises themselves are ascetical in character in that they are means of preparing and disposing our soul to rid itself of all its disordered affections and then, after their removal, of seeking and finding God's will in the ordering of our life for the salvation of our soul. (SpEx §1) They propose to facilitate the self-communication of God to the exercitant (SpEx § 15). In 1544 Ignatius penned a short document titled The Deliberation on Poverty that provides an insight into his discernment regarding the prescriptions on poverty in the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. In this document one perceives Ignatius's use of evangelical poverty as an ascetical practice intended to promote his relationship with Christ. Manuel Ruiz Jurado distinguishes three motivations for Ignatius's choice of absolute poverty in this text: ascetic-mystical, apostolic, and Christocentric. The ascetic-mystical reasons include the recognition that poverty promotes absolute hope only in God because it separates one from reliance on secular things.8 The apostolic reasons include giving greater edification through example, having freedom to travel in imitation of Christ and the first apostles, whom Christ charged to live in poverty, and relying for consoling hope, not on secular goods, but on God alone.9 The Christocentric reasons include the desire to imitate Christ, who was poor and faced great adversities and who contin

Issue 61.3 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Review for Religious helps people respond and be fait~hful to God?s universal call to holiness by making available tO them the spiritual legacies~ that flow from the charisms of Catholic consecrated life, Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: 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 persQnal 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. vie w 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 Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ MAY JUNE 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 3 contents 23O spiritual growth Transformative Aspects of Spirituality George A. Maloney SJ emphasizes the need for us to rediscover the personal, interrelational, triune creator God and thereby find a spiritual renewal in our Christian practices of prayer and asceticism. 242 St. Alphonsus and Today's Spiritual Direction Dennis J. Billy CSSR examines St. Alphonsus's relevance as a "spiritual master" and identifies elements that people can use in their own practice of spiritual direction. 252 265 dialogue Louise de Marillac and Elizabeth Seton: Women of Spirit Anne Higgins DC and Betty Ann McNeil DC allow Louise de Marillac and Elizabeth Seton to speak out how their lives as wives, mothers, widows, and spiritual leaders model the life of the Spirit for contemporary women in ministry. From Paschal Mystery to Reconciliation, from ASCs tO Adorers Regina Siegfried ASC traces the expansion and maturing of her own religious congregation's foundational charism, modeling for other congregations how to discover their still relevant and appropriate gift in contemporary society. Review for Religious 272 religious life culture Distinctiveness, Diversity, and Commoness in Consecrated Life Deborah M. Cerullo SSND proposes ways of dealing with diversity and externalizing our new reality so that we sustain the distinctiveness that is religious life. 281 The Culture of Religious Life within Asian Culture Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR outlines some considerations that Asian religious need to observe when adapting to Asian culture, not merely fitting in but challenging the culture to conversion. 299 reflections Why Only Three Evangelical Counsels? Brendan Kneale FSC offers some new reasons to the traditional ones for our having three defining vows for consecrated life. He echoes Pope John Paul's challenge to clarify the anthropological significance of the counsels. 3O8 Religious Life Revisited Lucy Fuchs reflects on some aspects of religious life, with her reflections occasioned .by a fifty-year reunion of those wh.o stayed as religious and those who left. departments 228 Prisms 313 Canonical Counsel: Voluntary Departure 320 Book Reviews May-June 2002 prisms In several ways, known to us all, Christianity is a scandalous religion. The GreeE word skandalon means a small stone that causes one to trip or fall. "To scandalize," then, is to be a stone that, deliberately or not, causes another to fall. In the Old Testament, God is sometimes a scandal. By his manner of acting or not acting, especially in their times of exile, the Israelites see God as a scandal. The prophet Isaiah identifies God as the stone of scan-dal and the rock that causes the two houses of Israel to fall (Is 8:14). In the New Testament, we find this text of Isaiah applied to Christ in the first letter of Peter (1 P 2:8). Jesus is a scandal, a sign of contradiction against which people's hearts become hardened. Paul bluntly proclaimed that our preaching Christ crucified is "a scandal for the Jews and folly for the gentiles" (1 Co 1:23). If we place ourselves within a Buddhist or Muslim culture, we begin to realize how much a scan-dal the mysteries of the incarnation, the crucifixion, and the resurrection remain for people. God becom-ing man?--why would God ever want to do that? God dying shamefully as a criminal?--that is no reason-able or respectable idea of God. God being raised from the dead and. keeping a human body for eternity?-- that is too much even for those who like science fic-tion. Jesus Christ truly is a scandal. Just like the ubiquitous stones that cause us to trip .and fall, so Jesus knows that scandals in human life Review for Religious are inevitable. When at our best, we Christians in our good-ness will sometimes appear and even be scandalous to others. Our belief in Christ can scandalize. Perhaps our sacramental worship--eating and drinking the Body and Blood of Christ-- gives scandal. Franciscan poverty was a scandal to burghers of the 13th century. To some in the 16th century, there was scan-dal in Jesuits claiming to be religious but not singing the Divine Office and not having distinctive religious garb. Maybe 2 lst-century religious women serving the poor and needy on all sides of a civil conflict are a scandal. Just as Jesus himself is a scandal to certain people of his time, so "goodness" can be a scandal even within Christ's church. Like Jesus, we do not want our goodness to be a scandal to others so that their faith in God is shaken or their charity is lessened. While trying to avoid scan-dal in our doing good, we know ourselves to be part of a scan-dalous Christianity. But there is the dark side of scandal in Christianity. Jesus speaks harshly about those who deliberately cause another to fall into sin and to lose faith in God. "It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea., than that he should trip up a single one of these little ones" (Lk 17:2). Jesus had a sharp word for Peter, accusing Peter of trying "to trip him up" by saying the crucifixion should never have to happen (see Mt 16:23). The church in the United States is being buffeted by scan-dals centering on priests sexually abusing young people and on bishops for their lack of oversight. The stumbling blocks have been experienced not only by the victims, but also by many parishioners whose trust of the church and faith in God are undermined. Our human scandal, causing others to fall into evil or distance themselves from God, is a sin. Sin demands repen-tance, seeks God's forgiveness and, if possible, our wronged neighbors' forgiveness too. The darkness of human scandal in all too many places is lightened only by the scandal of a God we call Savior and Redeemer, a God who is just, but also patient and merciful. Thank God we belong to a scandalous Christianity. David L. Fleming SJ May-3~une 2002 spiritua growth GEORGE A. MALONEY Transformative Aspects of Spirituality The human race has entered a new age. We are too close to the launching of it to know what is really happening or to see where it will lead us. We are like adolescents seeking meaningfulness in newfound powers emerging inside them and exploding confusedly around them. We feel a tension between pessimism, even fear, and optimistic dreams of a world of increasing richness. Through satellites we are in immediate contact not only with people and events all around planet Earth, but also with other planets as well. In a way our universe is shrinking, for distant parts of it are becoming more and more present to us. But we also stand in frightened isolation against the reality exploding before us into mysteries that we cannot handle with our limited human knowledge. One way to cope with such richness and apparent meaninglessness is to retreat into ourselves. We can build physical and psychological walls around us; George A. Maloney sJ has taught theology, edited the jour-nal Diakonia, conducted and directed many retreats, written articles (including four in this journal, 1965 to 1995), and published sixty-three books. His address is Contemplative Ministries; 13338 Del Monte Drive, #3-K; Seal Beach, California 90740. Review for Religious within the narrow confines of ~elf-centered consumerism, sports, cults, and new and old religious ideas that favor ghetto living, we can live in "splendid isolation" from the rest of the world. Traditional Western Christian views, based largely on Scholastic philosophy and theology and Newtonian physics, no longer seem adequate. An overemphasis on impersonal dogmas and structures and rituals is yielding to a search for revitalization. People seek transcendence and personal experience of God in their lives. Carl Jung has shown how some people use the institutional, dogmatic, and ritual aspects of their religion as a defense against subjective, inner religious experience. His writings strongly advocate that the quest for religious experience is an integral and necessary part of the search for our true self) The rationalistic framework that has been used to present Christianity to the West is in need of a complementary vision. Such a vision would not really be new. It is found in the Old and New Testaments. It is an openness to God as mystery, meeting the transcendent God in reverential awe and wonderment. It takes our eyes away from ourselves as the exploiting center of the universe and focuses on a humbly adoring response to God's invitation to share his divine life. Abraham J. Heschel, the great Jewish mystic and theologian, captures this contrast between a heavily accentuated, rational approach and one of perceptual intuition: "Most of our attention is given to the expedient, to that which is conducive to our advantage and which would enable us to exploit the resources of our planet . But there is more than one aspect of nature that commands our attention. We go out to meet the world, not only by way of expediency, ~ but also by way of wonder. In the first we accumulate information in order to dominate; in the second we deepen our appreciation in order to respond.''2 A Transcendent but Als0 Immanent God Most of us grew up with a Newtonian understanding of the universe, of God, and .of ourselves. In this paradigm God is "up there," a static observer of a .mechanical world. He directs the world through the laws of mechanics which are built into the cosmos. What moves through abs'olute space and time are May-June 2002 Maloney ¯ Tran~formative Aspects of Spirituality God is seen as energizing Love, acting on all of his creation from inside as well as outside. material particles called ,atoms: small, solid, indestructible things, the basic building blocks for all material creatures. In 1905 Albert Einstein published his special theory of relativity and "slew a beautiful theory with an ugly fact," in the words of T.H. Huxley. He proved that space and time form a four-dimensional continuum (space-time) and showed that all reality is relational. Norman Pittenger, a process theologian, describes this dynamic universe well: "We live in and we are confronted by a richly interconnected, interrelated, interpenetrative series of events, just as we ourselves are such a series of events."3 In such a view, all of us being part of God's creation, God is seen as energizing Love, acting on all of his creation from inside as well as outside. He is seen, not as a God up there or over there--as an object--but as a triune community of personal love, interacting with all his creatures, ordering all seeming chaos into loving unity. He leads all things in a dance of harmonious motion, stretching toward greater complexity hnd yet greater union. This God is truly, as St. Paul told the Athenians, not far from us, "for in him we live and move and have our being" (Ac 17:28). ~ Einstein describes how science and religion are in intimate relationships with each other~through the gift of mystical wonderment: "The most beautiful and most profound emotion we can experience is the sensation of the mystical. It is the sower of all true science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead. To know that what is impenetrable to us really exists, manifesting itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty which our dull faculties can comprehend only in their most primitive forms--this knowledge, this feeling, is at the center of true religiousness.4 Such wisdom and beauty can come .only in the religious insight that all human beings and all of our material cosmos are interrelated and interdependent, through a sense of community, of belonging together and sharing the riches that God has given. It is through interior prayer, through humble and loving Review for Religious adoration, that we can encounter God as a personal, loving, infinite sphere whose center is everywhere and circumference nowhere, and who embraces each of his creatures in the unity of his dynamic, loving creativity. Only in such intimate oneness with God can we receive living knowledge that is also transforming love. Only such experienced love will allow us to see our unique place in the whole of creation. Transformed by such oneness with God, we can stretch out creatively to bring about a more loving universe. Before we can rediscover some Christian practices to help in our renewal in this young millennium, we need to rediscover the personal, interrelational, triune creator God. This brings up the perennial question asked by Eastern and Western Christianity: How does God, who in his true essence is unreachable and unknowable, come to us? If he is perfect and unchangeable, how can he relate to us? "No one has ever seen God" (1 Jn 4:12, Jn 1:18). We would have to be God in order to know him fully. Yet the good news Jesus brings us is that God so loves this world as to give us his Son so that we may share in God's own nature, even in this life and more fully in the life to come (2 P 1:4). This is why the early Eastern Fathers always insisted on the distinction between God's essence and his uncreated energies. It preserves the awesome transcendence of God that can never be totally possessed by finite creatures. God Is Primal Grace Of all God's material creatures, only we human beings are an unfinished nature that has been gifted by God with spiritual faculties to communicate with his knowledge and love. We are capable of freely receiving God's communications and responding to his call to become divinized children of so loving a Father (1 Jn 3:1). The redemptive work of the crucified and risen Jesus consists in giving us his Spirit of love, through whom we may know the Father and the fullness of the Son On 17:3). Thus we can become true children of God On 1:12, Rrn 8:15, Ga 4:6). This "going forth" of God, to use Pseudo-Dionysius's term, is simply grace in its primal sense. It is God in 'his hesed, covenantal love, pursuing his people by stretching out his "two hands-- Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit," in the words'of St. Irenaeus. May-~une 2002 Maloney * Transformative AspectsofSpirituality God is, therefore, grace as he goes out of himself in his uncreated energies to share with us his very own life. We can truly know God and experience him intimately. Mthough in his Godhead or essence he is totally incomprehensible, yet in his energies he can be experienced as perfect love giving itself to us. In this experience of God as free gift of love, we can know him in his personal love toward us and can cooperate with his loving energies toward others. God's energies are the loving relationships of the Persons of the Trinity with regard to ourselves. God's activities are not divided.into sacred and secular, the supernatural and the natural. These energies are not "created things." They are God himself in self-giving to us in one essence of love, yet in three distinct Persons. The energies are personal. They are the whole Trinity acting in loving self-giving to all creatures. In such a view, God is never inactive.regarding us and his created worlds~ Grace, then, is not a created "thing" that God heaps upon us when we pray ardently. God permeates all persons, all things, all events by his personal, loving, uncreated energies. Every thing, every event, in the universe is "graced" and penetrated by God at each moment. It is for us to find new eyes to see this presence. This is possible through Jesus' resurrection. He brings us this "new life" as a Person, fully God and fully human. We are branches of his life-giving vine; he is our bridge to the Father. Body-Soul Relationships The way we perceive ourselves as human beings is the way we relate to other human beings and to God. For centuries we have viewed human beings as entities existing all by themselves. We have failed to see ourselves as persons oriented toward others in body-soul-spirit relationships. Instead, through Platonism's way of expressing Western Christianity, the human being was seen as a cgmbination of a body and a separable rational soul. The body was seen as material and perishable, the soul as immortal by its nature: it could live forever after being separated from the body in death. In the 17th century, Descagtes did more than any other thinker to create the impression of the body and soul being two Review for Religious distinct, objective entities. Such an objectivization of the body and the soul left its heavy mark upon our Western Christian idea of how we relate to God, ourselves, others, and the world around us. Such a view of the human person does not fit well with the biblical vision of human beings' relationships with God, others, and the entire created world. St. Paul describes a human person as being in the process of becoming holy and blameless, "spirit, soul, and body, for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Th 5:23). The Bible does not present a human being as one who "possesses" a living soul, but rather as a living "ensouled" body-person. A human person does not have a body as a possession; the ensouled body is the whole person. This human person, accordingly, in his or her totality, exists in relationship with all of matter and with the trinitarian God, whose being pure spirit does not prevent the Son from being incarnate among us. God (as ruah) breathes into human beings and restores them to a new love relationship with God. If God, then, is so dynamically present to us, why do we not "see" him everywhere? Because, as we have said, our concept of ourselves as "possessing" several objects, a body and a soul, has led us to think of God as an object outside of ourselves, usually in a lofty region called heaven. We :have forgotten the immanence of the passionately loving Trinity, God dwelling within us. In our prayer we approach God "rationally,".as persons who see ourselves as the center of our own activity and who see God as the "object" out there to whom we pray. The philosopher Martin Heidegger can furnish us with insights for a new vision of God and ourselves. For him God is a dynamic, energetic force, never static, but always revealing himself to us in the events of each day. Truth is an event, not an abstract concept. It is an event of "nonconcealment," a "revelation," a stripping away of the veil so that the fullness of Being may shine forth,s The infinite God, of course, never becomes fully revealed to human beings. ~ The fullness of God's infinite Being, his Godhead, remains hidden, but is glimpsed as We have forgotten the immanence of the passionately loving Trinity, God dwelling within us. May-3~une 2002 Maloney ¯ Transformative Aspects of Spirituality the Ground of all created beings. To see God in his revelation is to love ourselves and all other creatures by a created participation in the uncreated and all-powerful love of God. Diaphanous Matter God is present in all things with his loving activity. In our contemplation, then, we should see God existing in all of his material creation and working in our very own bodies to bring them into the harmony of "spirit, soul, and body" that Paul speaks of'(1 Th 5:23). Jesus used his human body in communicating with his heavenly Father, finding his Father working in and through his human body. Jesus could enjoy the Father's love in being there, in his body. His body was also the place where the Father's energies were at work. If Paul could write, "Your body, you know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 6:19), how much more must Jesus have known the sacredness of his body? He used his body as a gift to communicate God's Spirit in love to all whom he met. We too are to use our bodies integrally as part of ourselves: who we are as whole persons living lives as receivers and givers, as persons who are loved and love in return, growing into greater likenesses of Christ by God's presence within us. If God's energies touch us in our bodily relationships, then our bodies can experience the effects of God's loving activity. The idea that our bodies are basically evil, or at least not very sacred, must change to a more incarnational view. We should find God's goodness in the feeding and clothing of our bodies, in our sexuality, even in various postures of our body as We pray. Praying with Our Whole Being We find in the Old and New Testaments the command "You shall love Yahweh your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength" (Dr 6:5). In prayer we should use not only our mind and memory, but our whole being, body, soul, hnd spirit. We need in the West to learn how to use our body in praying before God. All mystical traditions of East and West agree that a certain amount of exterior silence, a certain amount of aloneness, is necessary for interior concentration. True silence Review for Religious is an integration of all the powers of body, psyche, and spirit for the hearing of God's word. We Westerners need inner silence in order to reach the still-pointedness that the mystics speak of. A way of becoming "one-pointed," suggested by the disciplines of yoga, is to look intently upon a flower, a painting, or some other beautiful object. In Eastern Orthodoxy worshipers focus or center on the Trinity, Christ, Mary the mother of God, or a saint by using icons to lift them into the presence of the one represented in the icon. Through such focused consciousness, they begin to lose their focus on themselves and become immersed in the presence of God, the Giver of all beauty. They find themselves transcending the limitations of place and time and the tyranny of their "conditioned" self, with its unruly desires. Through such concentration they not only begin to perceive a oneness with the world around them, but also a slowing down of their mental activities, with a feeling of peace and quiet as they enter the numinous presence of the Divine. Breathing properly is the first step toward finding ourselves as integrated persons. Rhythmic breathing tends to make us detached, relaxed, and hence more free to focus and reflect steadily, calmly, and effordessly upon the indwelling Trinity. A form of body-prayer almost lost to Westerners is prostration. Lying on the floor, face down, fosters a great awareness of our creaturehood before the awesome Allness of God. Our body is exposed and defenseless; we feel truth .and simplicity tangibly. The empirical ego disappears, and only the true self remains. Throughout the history of Christianity, many reform movements have sought to recall Christians to a simpler, more pristine vision of Christianity and away from an exaggerated attachment to religion's externals. !n the 16th and 17th centuries there rose up in Europe a puritan protest against Roman Catholicism. Material techniques that had been in use from Apostolic times--such as sacraments and sacramentals, pictures, statues, icons, incense, candles, water, oil--were removed from many Christian churches during and after the Reformation period. As we are "whole" persons whet/we enter into prayer, it is only natural that material aids can help us to move from one level to another in a fuller integration of our total human nature May-~une 2002 in our prayer. We can be helped by memories of specific human experiences and by symbols and pictures; they are likely to be filled with spiritual meaning, elevating our consciousness to greater awareness of God. We should not be afraid of such things if they truly do help us to pray better. In our relationships with God and neighbor in this world of ours, perhaps our greatest need is external and internal discipline, that is, asceticism. Important Principles We need to keep clearly in mind the distinction between God's freely bestowed grace and our free cooperation in using various techniques to dispose ourselves to receive God in his grace. First, we must remember that God wishes to give himself to us directly through an immediate experience. This communication is made to a human person, a whole being, not to a separated soul or a detached intellect. It is important, therefore, to prepare ourselves for prayer and worship through asceticism and. psychosomatic techniques to bring our whole being to a point of receptivity or single-mindedness to receive God's communication on the highest level we can attain. Second, we must recognize that all such preparatory acts are only conditions for prayerful union with God through grace. Our own best efforts, by themselves, leave us absolutely impotent to attain such union. Union with God is a free and gratuitous gift whose bestowal cannot be dictated by our human wills nor be assumed after long and careful preparation. Most importantly, if our uses of psychosomatic techniques are truly to help us receive God's life-giving grace, they must conform to the whole plan of salvation as revealed by Holy Scripture and church teaching and illustrated in the lives and writings of the saints. In our relationships with God and neighbor in this world of ours, perhaps our greatest need is external and internal Review for Religious discipline, that is, asceticism. The more exclusively rational our religion is, the less discipline of body, soul, and spirit do we find. In our lives, is there an habitual attitude of self-control and inner discipline? In all of our body, soul, and spirit relationships, do we exercise an alertness and a turning to God whereby we keep things in balance? St. Paul exhorted the new Christians of Corinth to bring every thought and flight of fancy of theirs into captivity and into obedience to Jesus Christ (2 Co 10:5). Jesus insisted that we first clean the inside of the vessel (our heart) and then the outside (Mr 23:26). A Means to Love God and Neighbor The end of our Christian life is to love God with our whole heart and to love our neighbors as ourselves (Mt 22:37-40). But there can be no new level of awareness in prayer that God is our all unless we courageously strive to put to death all affections and attachments to lesser loves that are obstacles to our full love of God and neighbor. Many Christians have heard distorted teachings on asceticism. The "worldliness" within human hearts has all too often been equated with the material world which God created and saw as "very good" (Gn 1:31). Is it any wonder that with a more holistic, biblical approach to theology and anthropology, informed by the behavioral sciences of psychology and sociology, we have turned from an old "traditional" view of asceticism? But have we replaced it with something better? Today, in our pleasure-oriented culture, our bodily appetites are more in need of discipline than ever. The way we approach this must be determined by the goal, namely, to love God and neighbor as perfectly as possible. Jesus had to go against his own desires in order to do at all times whatever most pleased his heavenly Father. His ascetical practice was always subordinated to the Father and had its full meaning insofar as it brought him into more intimate union with his Father (Lk 22:42). Ascetical principles include the following: (1) Any and all ascetical practices are means to attain the end of the spiritual life. (2) The whole person needs continual discipline of body, soul, and spirit in relationships with things, other people, and God. (3) Certain areas of our being are more important in determining ll/lay-~une 2002 Maloney ¯ Transformative Aspects of Spirituality our choices than others. Without neglecting any area of our being, we especially need control of our interior faculties of memory, understanding, and will, for it is through these faculties that our moral decisions to commit sin or practice virtue are made. (4) The areas needing discipline, then, include the body with its five exterior senses, the interior senses (the emotions, imagination, memories), the intellect, and the will. Exaggerated selfqove in the will is the root of all movement away from God. The great ascetics of the desert advise us to be guided in the spiritual life by a "soul-mate" or spiritual director, someone who is learned in the science of the spiritual life and is also holy. They advise us to reflect often, in the presence of the Trinity, and especially at the end of each day, on what we have done moment by moment in thought, word, and deed and so to discover the roots that prevent our cooperating with the Holy Spirit's gentle inspirations. The athletes of the desert, men and women "intoxicated with love of God," can also tei~ch us, in our world of sense pleasures and comforts, the value of fasting. Jesus in the Gospels teaches the necessity of fasting, almsgiving, and prayer and shows that they are intimately related. These things can be done quietly and humbly. "Your Father, who sees what is hidden, will repay you" (Mt 6:16-18). Fasting, to be truly Christian, must include turning to God ~metanoia) with a corresponding openness, to love and serve our neighbor. We experience a oneness with every human being, especially the poor and the hungry. Fasting perhaps once a week from our habitual eating habits can help us be inwardly attentive to God's loving presence in our daily life. ---24o Living the Transfiguration Feast We have presented some of the transformative elements of Christian spirituality that may help our daily living-out of the Feast of Transfiguration. This feast, celebrated on August 6, is a major feast among Eastern Christians. They bring to the church the first fruits of their harvest to be blessed and offered to God, but a deeper faith-vision penetrates this simple ritual, the mystery of the seed falling into the e~rth to bring forth fruit a hundredfold. We Christians in baptism each become a seed Review for Religious planted in the church. We are to grow to full maturity in Christ Jesus. A transfiguring process takes place over the spring, summer, and autumn years of our Christian lives. The seed grows from within, but also in the outer world. God's transfiguring power, his divinizing energies of love, work in us and in the world around us. The same loving God is the source both of our being and of all the beings around us. With this thought, this vision, we realize that the world has not changed, but we have changed. God's presence was always there as active love, but we took little notice of it. What we felt as darkness is now suffused with light. Seeing our uniqueness in God's love for us, we now see the uniqueness of all other beings in God's love for each of them. The true test of how Christian we are and to what degree we have been baptized in the Holy.Spirit is the degree of our involvement in bringing mercy and love to those suffering. "I was hungry and you gave me food . . ." (Mr 25:35-40). The presence of God within us becomes a swelling ocean wave that flows out to inundate the entire world with God's love. What was hidden now becomes revealed. Through our loving cooperation, what seemed absent now becomes present and transfiguring. As the Holy Spirit broods over us, baptizing us with his love and fire, we become a transfigured microcosmos in the incarnate Christ. We image the macrocosmos of the heavenly Jerusalem. Notes ~ See Carl Jung, Psychology and Religion (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1972). 2 Abraham J. Heschel, Man Is Not Alone (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Young, 1951), p. 36. 3 Norman Pittenger, Process Thought and Christian Faith (New York: Macmillan, 1968), p. 13. 4 Quoted by Lincoln Barnett, The Universe and Dr. Einstein (New York: New American Library, 1962), p. 108. s See Martin Heidegger, "Plato's Doctrine of Truth," trans. John Barlow, in Philosophy in the Twentieth Century, ed. William Barrett and Henry D. Aiken (New York: Random House, 1962). May-yune 2002 DENNIS J. BILLY St. Alphonsus and Today's Spiritual Direction ~Lhigeuno drei a(l1i6n9g6 w-1it7h8 t7h)e, tlhifee daoncdt owr oorfk ps roafy eSrt .a Andlp thhoen psautsr odne saint of confessors and moral theologians, we cannot expect to find precise, ready-made advice about spiritual direction for today. But this is not to say he has nothing to offer our current understanding of this ministry. Although Alphonsus was lim-ited by the general spiritual outlook of his day, he also had a way of surpassing it, and he brought great benefit to the people he served. In understanding Alphonsus's relevance for spiritual direction today, much will depend on how we approach his thought and which aspect of it we emphasize. In this essay we will examine the basis of his reputation as a "spiritual master" and identify the elements that people can use in their own practice of spiritual direction. A Gospel Spirituality At the outset it is important to recognize Alphonsus's missionary fervor. The major projects of his life--his mission preaching, his writing, his founding the Redemptorist Congre- Dennis J. Billy CSSR, a frequent contributor to our pages, writes from Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma, Italy. Review for Religious gation, his prayer--were all motivated by his desire to bring the Good News of plentiful redemption to others, especially the poor and most abandoned. Alphonsian spirituality is first and foremost a gospel spirituality, one which takes seriously the person of Jesus and his injunction "to make disciples of all nations" (Mr 28:19). In 18th-century Naples, Alphonsus inter-preted this calling in a very personalized way. Rather than going to faraway lands, he looked to his own "backyard," where peo-ple did not have easy access to the church's ordinary means for spiritual growth. This option for the poor, this willingness to go where others were not interested in going, led Alphonsus and his small band of followers to small moun-tain villages on the back roads of the king-dom of Naples. Their evangelizing efforts for the poor, illiterate peasants they found in the forgotten hamlets of Campania, Puglia, Basilicata, and Calabria helped change the spiritual landscape of south-ern Italy. These early Redemptorist missioners reminded peo-ple that God had not forgotten them, but was very much with them in their desire and thirst for spiritual growth. To ensure that such growth would continue, Alphonsus and his followers set up various devotional structures (confraternities, Eucharistic devotions, evening chapels) that would foster prayer and devo-tion in these fledgling faith communities after they left. Alphonsus's gospel spirituality helps us appreciate the var-ious nuances in the old debate whether there is a single Christian spirituality or many2 Inasmuch as every expression, of it must be rooted in the person of Christ, Christian spirituality is one. At times, however, individuals and groups have followed Christ in various particular works, spiritual practices, or styles of living. The great number of religious congregations, secular institutes, and lay movements that have appeared in the church's history suggest the almost infinite number of ways of following Christ. In this sense there are many Christian spiritualities, and many still to come. For our present purposes, Alphonsus's own prac-tice of the love of Jesus Christ can be seen as both different from and united to all other authentic Christian spiritualities. Throughout his life Alphonsus's overriding purpose was to draw others closer to Christ. May-June 2002 Billy ¯ St. Alphonsus and Today's Spiritual Direction Because of its flexibility and popular diffusion, moreover, his particular brand of gospel spirituality reminds us thatlthe term spirituality itself allows for various nuances and can be treated on a number of levels.2 A Man of Prayer Throughout his life Alphonsus's overriding purpose was to draw others closer to Christ. He believed that everyone could share an intimate relationship with Jesus and that the key to such a relationship was to be dedicated and persistent in prayer: "He who prays is certainly saved. He who prays not is certainly damned.''3 These strong words show Mphonsus's emphasis on prayer in fostering a mature relationship with God. Prayer, for him, was "the great means of salvation.''4 Everyone, he believed, receives sufficient grace to pray. Meditatio or mental prayer is particularly important for turning one's whole heart and mind to the Lord.s Alphonsus developed a simple formula for mental prayer that could be easily taught to the rustics of the Italian hill country, thus introducing them to one of the great riches of the church's tradition. In doing so he was criticized by a number of "enlightened" Neapolitan clerics for "casting pearls to swine" and thereby desecrating the church's treasures by sharing them with people who could not appreciate them, let alone put them into practice. Alphonsus, however, had little time for such judgmental remarks or for those who made them. Throughout 'his life he popularized the church's teaching on prayer. He met people where they were and helped them little by little to pray to God as inti-mate friends .speak with one another. "Paradise for God . . . is the human heart," he liked to say.6 Prayer was for him the means par excellence for enabling this divine indwelling to occur. He never tired of emphasizing the centrality of prayer for the spir-itual life: "There may be some who, after the perusal of my spiritual works, will accuse me of tediousness in so often rec-ommending the importance and necessity of having, continual recourse to God in prayer. But I seem to myself to have said not too much, but far too little.''7 Not only did he emphasize prayer in his own writings, but he also encouraged others to do the same: "I say, and repeat, and will keep on repeating as long Review for Religious as I live, that our whole salvation depends on prayer; and, there-fore, that all writers in their books, all preachers in their sermons, all confessors in their instructions to their penitents, should not inculcate anything more strongly than continual prayer.''s It is no small coincidence that Alphonsus is often referred to as the "doctor of prayer.''9 For him, we can get nowhere in the spiritual life without it. With it we have access to the copious redemption made possible by Jesus' passion, death, and resurrection. Leading Others to God Leading others to Christ was what Alphonsus's missionary vocation was all about. This conviction helps explain his Marian piety. Mary's life and her role in the church center on this same calling. By staying close .to Mary, Alphonsus felt assured that his own life of leading others to her Son would intensify and bear much fruit. This explains why his writings are full of the-ological references, edifying stories, and heartfelt prayers to the Madonna. Mary, who pondered in her heart all that happened to her son, is the Christian disciple par excellence. In his own efforts to follow Christ and to contemplate the great events of the paschal mystery, Alphonsus relied on Mary's generous help and protection?° When taken under the heading of the "care and cure of souls," spiritual direction encompasses virtually every aspect of the church's pastoral ministry. Such an assessment would be dou-bly true for Alphonsus, who through his preaching, writing, direction of souls, and general pastoral care did all he could to lead people to a more intimate relationship with God. Everything that Alphonsus did can be considered a kind of spiritual direction. Even activities that did not directly touch the lives of others (his prayer, his spiritual reading, his own private devotions) had a missionary dimension. These activities had a Marian dimension as well. What is more, the subtle balance between contemplation and action that appears in Mary's joyfulfiat is characteristic of Alphonsus's missionary activity. For him, prayer and action are two sides of the same apostolic coin. To separate them or to give undue emphasis to one or the other could do grave damage to missionaries and the people they serve. May-~une 2002 Billy ¯ St. Alphonsus and Today's Spiritual Direction When taken as "a helping relationship focusing on a person's spiritual growth," Alphonsus's spiritual direction is "directive" in nature and closely tied to his confessional practice.~ This is not to say that he did not sometimes give spiritual direction through correspondence or in conversation outside the confes-sional.~ 2 In fact, his practical temperament and his eclectic use of the church's spiritual tradition led him to take circumstances into account in his pastoral praxis with individuals. In general, however, Alphonsus saw a close connection between spiritual direction and sacramental confession. While he was aware of the distinction between the two, he was firm in his insistence that the confessor be someone who not only forgives sins, but also leads penitents further along the path of sanctity.~3 Alphonsus's strong penchant for uniting the two appears most clearly in his Praxis confessarii, where he delineates in descending order the four offices of the confessor: father, doc-tor, teacher, and judge.'4 For Alphonsus, every confessor has the responsibility of guiding souls to sanctity. This is so because all the faithful (not just a select few) are called to the perfection of Christian living. The term "spiritual director," in other words, is not simply for those who guide people through the rarified states of mystical experience, but for all confessors helping peo-ple in all states of life to walk the path of holiness. Alphonsus thus went a long way in demystifying the role of spiritual director in the Christian tradition. His efforts brought nourishing spiritual sustenance to ordinary people. This "meat and potatoes" approach was a benchmark of Redemptorist practice and char-acterized the Alphonsian approach to direction for years to come. More specifically, the principal characteristics of the Alphonsian confessor-director are: (1) an attitude of being more of a father and doctor than a judge, an attitude of charity, good-ness, and mildness in welcoming and treating penitents and in disposing them to penitence (so that their absolution need not be deferred or denied); (2) an attitude of kindness in giving penance, seeking rather to heal the soul than exact punishment for faults; (3) a marked preference for the poorest and most ignorant of the social classes; (4) a concern for giving the pen-itent the means not only to avoid a relapse into sin, but also to advance along the way of holiness; (5) recognizing the rela-tionship between preaching and confession, with preaching Review for Relig4ous preparing the way for confession and continuing its work.15 These characteristics of the Alphonsian confessor-director demonstrate the practical orientation of Alphonsus's mission. He sought to preach the good news of plentiful redemption to as many people as possible. He saw the wisdom of treating the confessional not as a tribunal, but as a means for educating the faithful in the ways of holiness. The connection he saw between preaching and confession reveals that he understood spiritual direction as something that extends to the ordinary care of souls. Ecumenical and inter-religious dialogue was not a viable option in his day. There was still too much polemic and mutual antag-onism among the various Christian denominations for constructive dialogue to take place, and the church's stance toward non-Christian religions was characterized by out-right condemnation of their tenets and a call to conversion. In Western Christianity, moreover, the church had to struggle not only against proselytizing by Protestant reformers, but also against the secularization stem-ming from the Enlightenment. In dealing with these threats, the church adopted a "fortress mentality"; it tried to shelter the faithful from as many harmful influences as possible~ It should not be surprising that Alphonsus, a foyal son of the church, espoused similar views. He sought, on the other hand, to preserve a certain "com-munion" of the various spiritual traditions within the church. He displayed a remarkable openness to the various approaches he encountered. If they passed the critical test of orthodoxy, he felt free to borrow whatever might be useful in his mission to bring about a fundamental conversion in the hearts and lives of people, especially the poor and most abandoned. This prag- When taken as "a helping relationship focusing on a person's spiritual growth," Alphonsus's spiritual direction is "directive" in nature and closely tied to his confessional practice. May-June 2002 Billy ¯ St. Alpbonsus and Today's Spiritual Direction matic openness to other spiritual traditions stood in contrast to quarrelsome petty arguments among some religious orders of his day. Such unhealthy competitiveness focused on small points that separated their approaches to the spiritual life, rather than on what united them. Alphonsus much preferred to emphasize what bound them together. His rule of thumb was whether a particular spiritual practice draws people closer to Christ. A corollary was that it be beneficial to as many people as possible~. This practical eclecticism led him to a synthetic approach to direction that was peculiarly his own. To cite just one example, he valued highly the spiritual doctrine of Teresa of Avila on the interior mansions of infused contemplation and encouraged directors to follow it whenever they encountered someone with tendencies toward mysticism. Unlike some representatives of the Carmelite school of spirituality, however, he affirmed with the Jesuits that not everyone is called to infused contemplation in this life. Accordingly, in his direction of souls, he focused on meditation and acquired contemplation.~6 In the final analysis, Alphonsus was convinced, it is not a method or approach that leads people to metanoia or a "change of heart," but a personal encounter with Jesus Christ. To this end Alphonsus probed various spiritual traditions within the church and used whatever he thought would benefit the people he served. Doing so, for Alphonsus, was an exercise of Christian love. He would have agreed wholeheartedly with Bernard of Clairvaux's assessment of families of spirituality in the church: "I admire them all. I belong to one of them by observance, but to all of them by charity." ~7 Doctor of Prayer As mentioned earlier, Alphonsus's reputation as a spiritual master eventually earned him the title of the "doctor of prayer." 18 His renown as a spiritual director comes from his cre-ative, eclectic, and pragmatic use of the traditions that preceded him. As an interpreter of these traditions, he focused on the one thing which, in his judgment, ultimately mattered in life, to enter into an intimate relationship with Jesus, the Redeemer. Prayer, for Alphonsus, was the primary means given to us to accomplish this end. Spiritual direction, for him, was both gen- Review for Religious eral and particular. It could take place in many contexts, but primarily had to do with the confessor's task of helping people grow in holiness. While Alphonsus saw a distinction between confession and spiritual direction, his zeal for souls and his popularizing sen-sitivities brought him to the conclusion that he and other priests in his day and age could best serve the people of God by draw-ing a close bond between the two. Sacramental confession, after all, was an application of Christ's redemptive love to the life of the penitent. Since, for Alphonsus, redemption was "plentiful," it followed that people's experience of sacramental reconcili-ation should include not only for-giveness of sin, but also guidance to help penitents grow in holiness. He believed that spiritual direction was for the masses--not a select few-- and for people of all walks of life. The close bond that he saw between preaching and the confes-sion- spiritual direction experience also suggests an organic (even circular) relationship between the general and more personal elements of anyone's receiving spiritual direction. These considerations have great import with regard to the relevance of Alphonsus's spiritual doctrine for today. His walk-ing with the Lord was both like and unlike our own. Walking in his footsteps today cannot mean following his teachings to the letter. That would be to overlook the prudenc.e of Alphonsus's own pastoral decisions; it would mean neglecting to take into account the pressing concerns and very different pastoral needs of our own day. Following Alphonsus today must mean making creative, eclectic, and pragmatic use of the spiritual traditions that have come down to us as they first came to Alphonsus along with what he himself has handed down to us. Following him must mean sifting through what he considered beneficial for the peo-ple of his day and finding .practical applications for the people of today. It must mean a way of spiritual direction that helps people get word of Christ's plentiful redemption and fosters a Alphonsus's reputation as,a spiritual master eventually earned him the title of the "doctor of prayer." May-June 2002 Billy ¯ St. Alpbonsus and Today's Spiritual Direaion lifelong conversation with God deep in their hearts. Spiritual direction in the Redemptorist tradition today must neither pre-tend to be, nor try to be, nor be an exact replica of what it was during Alphonsus's day. It should resonate with his teaching, however, and glow with his missionary fire, his yearning to lead as many people as possible into a deep friendship with the Lord. Notes 1 For references to this debate, see Walter H. Principe CSB, "Toward Defining Spirituality," Studies in Religion / Sciences religieuses 12 (1983): 129, esp. n. 3. 2 For a discussion of levels of spirituality in relation to Alphonsus, see Dennis J. Billy, Plentiful Redemption: An Introduction to Alpbonsian Spirituality (Liguori, Missouri: Liguori Publications, 2001), pp. 98-101. 3 Alphonsus de Liguori, Prayer: The Great Means of Obtaining Salvation and All the Graces Which We Desire of God, in The Complete Works of Alphonsus de Liguori, ed. Eugene Grimm (New York: Redemptorist Fathers, 1886-1894; reprint, Brooklyn, St. Louis, and Toronto: Redemptorist Fathers, 1927), Vol. 3, p. 49. Hereafter, Complete Works, Vol. 1 or 2 or 3 or 4 or 6. 4 Complete Works, Vol. 3, pp. 19-22. 5 Alphonsus de Liguori, Mental Prayer and the Exercises of a Retreat, in Complete Works, Vol. 3, pp. 252-258. 6 Alphonsus de Liguori, The Way to Converse Always and Familiarly with God, in Complete Works, Vol. 2, p. 395. 7 Alphonsus de Liguori, The Practice of the Love of Jesus Christ, in Complete Works, Vol. 6, p. 456. 8 Alphonsus de Liguori, in Complete Works, Vol. 3, p. 240. 9 See Pope Pius XI, "Allocuzione del 20 Settembre 1934," in Annuarium Apostolatus Orationis (Rome, 1935), p. 73; also Dizionario di Mistica (Rome: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1998), s.v. "Alfonso Maria de Liguori (santo)," by G. Velocci. 10 For the theological and pastoral dimensions of Alphonsus's Marian devotion, see Hamish EG. Swanston, Celebrating Eternity Now: A Study of the Theology of St. Alphonsus de Liguori (Chawton Alton Hampshire: Redemptorist Publications, 1995), pp. 220-230. ,1 For various definitions of spiritual direction, see Dennis J. Billy, "The Relations of Spiritual Direction," Studia moralia 36 (1998): 67, n. 1. t2 For spiritual direction in Alphonsus's correspondence, see Sean Wales, "The Ministry of Spiritual Direction: Saint Alphonsus, the Review for Religious Spiritual Director as Seen though His Letters," in Reflections on the Spirit of Saint Alphonsus, ed. M. O'Shea (Monroe, Michigan: IHM Publications, 1987), pp. 93-107. ,3 Emilio Lage, "S. Alfonso e la direzione spirituale," Spicilegium historicum CSSR 48 (2000): 22-25. 14 Alphonsus de Liguori, Praxis confessarii ad bene excipiendas con~ fessiones, chap. 1, in Theologia moralis, Vol. 4 (Rome: Typis Polyglottis Vaticanis, 1912; reprint 1953), p. 528. ,s Emilio Lage, "S. Alfonso," p. 14 (my translation). ,6 Joseph W. Oppitz, Alphonsian History and Spirituality: A Study of the Spirit of the Founder Saint Alphonsus M. Liguori and of the Missionary Institute, The Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer (Rome and Suffield, Conn.: privately published, 2nd printing, 1978), p. 30. 17 Bernard of Clairvaux, Apologia to William of Saint Thierry, IV.8 (PL 182.903), cited in Pope John Paul II, Vita consecrata (1996), §52. ~s See endnote 9 above. "erat lux vera" here shines that light soft and luminescent brilliant and incandescent firefly by night and sun by day ember and inferno manifold, multifarious, multifaceted variegated and diverse that light which mothers every honest light the stars and their stones incendiary and catoptric candlelight and firelight and the light which warms and dances tender glowing in the eyes of the one you love through every shuttered window bolted door and locked gate in every place which shows a space there shines that light which all the world illumines enkindles and enflames Se~n Kinsella May-June 2002 ANNE HIGGINS AND BETTY ANN McNEIL Louise de Marillac and Elizabeth Seton: Women of Spirit dialogue Although separated by a century and more, Louise de Marillac (1591-1660) and Elizabeth Seton (1774-1821) were bound together by the Holy Spirit in ways of charity and wisdom.~ Their lives mirror one another. As wives, mothers, widows, and spiritual leaders, they model the life of the Spirit for contemporary women in ministry, for all whom the Gospels inspire to tend the fire of divine love in their own hearts and in the lives of others. Elizabeth made the first English translation of the original (French) biography of Louise.2 With the support and guidance of the French Sulpicians in Maryland, Elizabeth founded the Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph's (31 July 1809) in Emmitsburg. For her sisterhood, the first to be founded in the United States, she adapted the Rule that Louise de Marillac and Vincent de Paul (1581-1660) had developed for the Anne Higgins DC, poet and English instructor, also does campus ministry at Mount St. Mary's College and Seminary, Emmitsburg, Maryland. Betty Ann McNeil DC is province archivist for the Daughters of Charity and a member of the Vincentian Studies Institute. They write from St. Joseph's Provincial House; 333 South Seton Avenue; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727. Review for Religious Daughters of Charity, founded in Paris 29 November 1633. The Setonian legacy expresses their charism today. This article compares and contrasts the themes common to their lives, and notes how they saw themselves until devastating things happened to them, .changing their lives forever. Through devastation and change they remained faithful to God, and God created something new through them.3 In her new life Elizabeth found "peace"--"enjoying the liberty of solitude, country life, and plenty of every good." We invite you to enter into "Sabbath moments" as Louise and Elizabeth tell us about themselves in first-person vignettes, which include or are based on their own words. May the Spirit guide this reflection on roots and be a source of blessing for all who live or are listening in on the Vincentian and Setonian legacy.4 (At intervals, we invite you to pray and reflect on their story, which may also be yours.) Like the five modern women discussed in a 1990 book called Composing a Life, Louise and Elizabeth "were engaged in that act of cremation that engages us all--the composition of their lives." Like these women--and guided by the Holy Spirit and fueled by their faith--"they worked by°improvisation, discovering the shape of their creation along the way, rather than pursuing a vision already defined." And they "combined familiar and unfamiliar components in response to new situations. Their commitments were continually refocused and redefined." s LOUISE: I had been looking at my life in one way. I was born into an upper-class Parisian family, but I never knew my mother. And my father referred to me as "ma' fille, ma naturelle." From infancy I was raised in a convent and a boarding school. When I was four, my father remarried, and his new wife did not accept me. ELIZABETH: I had been looking at my life in one way. I was born into an upper-class New York family, but my mother died when I was three. When I was four, my father remarried, and his new wife did not accept me. LOUISE: "God, who has granted me so many graces, led me to understand that it was his holy will that I go to him by way of the cross. His goodness chose to mark me with it from my birth, and he has hardly ever left me, at any age, without some occasion of suffering." 6 ~lay-June 2002 Higgins and McNeil * Women of Spirit ELIZABETH: "Will not Jesus Christ be with me? Was I not signed with the cross of salvation in baptism?''7 "You and I must meet him - we must be crucified - it is in vain to start [recoil], or think of escaping." 8 "The thirst and longing of my soul is fixed on the cross alone.''9 "We are never strong enough to bear our cross; it is the cross which carries us, not so weak to be unable to bear it, since the weakest become strong by its virtue." 10 LOUISE: "O God, I have resolved to admit no love unless it be for you!" 11 Ihad been looking at my life in one way, and then things happened to change it. When I was nineteen, I had my heart set on joining a contemplative order of nuns, the Capuchins. I even made a private promise to join them. But my spiritual director, P~re de Champigny, who was the provincial of the Parisian Capuchins, said no. He said I was not physically strong enough, and he said, "I believe that God has other plans for you." 12 ELIZABETH: I had been looking at my life in one way, but then things happened to change it. When I was nineteen, I fell in love with William Magee Seton (1768-1803). I married him, and we moved into our house in lower Manhattan. Then the children came: Anna Maria, William, Richard, Catherine, and Rebecca.13 "Sitting on a litde bench before the fire - the head resting on the hand, the body perfecdy easy, the eyes closed, the mind serene contemplating, and tracing boundless Mercy and the source of all excellence and perfection - how pure the enjoyment and sweet the transitions of every thought - the soul expands . . . all earthly interests recede - and heavenly hopes become anxious wishes. "I can patiently, submissively, submit to thy holy will, adoring in sweet confidence of thy mercy - preserve me but this heavenly peace, continue to give me this privilege beyond all mortal computation of resting in thee, and adoring thee my father - friend - and never failing support - for this alone I implore, let all other concerns with their consequences be entirely and wholly submitted to thee." 14 LOUISE: So, at twenty-two, I was married to Antoine Le Gras (1581-162'5). He was a good man, conscientious, deeply religious, and charitable to the poor, and I grew to love him. We had one son: Michel-Antoine [1613-1696]. We lived in a town house on the right bank of the Seine. It was a pleasant life in those first years. Review for Religious I had been looking at my life in one way, and then things happened to destroy it. to change it. In 1617, when I was twenty-six, my kinsman the Marquis d'Attichy and his wife had both died, and we took charge of their seven children . . . Then, my own husband, Antoine, became ill. I remembered my old promise to God to enter religious life. I began a dark journey through doubt. Everything seemed to be filling apart for me. I entered into a great desolation of spirit which lasted until Pentecost, because of a doubt as to whether l should leave my husband, as I wished to do in order to repair my first vow and have freedom to serve God and neighbor . I feared further that the attachment I had for my director might prevent me from taking another, thinking myself obliged to quit him . . . I had great pain because of doubt concerning the immortality of the soul. These three uncertainties gripped my soul in agonies which now seem to me unimaginable. On the day of Pentecost, at Saint-Nicolas-des-Champs during holy Mass, all of a sudden my spirit was cleared of these doubts. I was made to understand that I must dwell with my husband and that the time would come when I would be in a position to make vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and that I would be in a small community where others would do the same. I then understood that I would be in a place where I could help my neighbor [although] there would be much coming and going . , . I was also assured that God would give me another director, who was then, so it seems to me, shown me in a vision, and I felt a repugnance to accept him. I submitted, nevertheless, although it seemed to me that it would not be necessary to make this change yet. My third difficulty was banished, by the assurance I felt in my soul that it was God who revealed all this to me, and that, there being a God, I must not doubt the rest)s Reflect for a few minutes now on your Pentecost experience. "I believe that God has other plans for you." LOUISE: Some months after that, I met Vincent de Paul, who became my spiritual director. And I took care of Antoine, with great love, for four years, until he died in December 1625. I was thirty-four. I had been looking at my life in one way., and May-June 2002 Higgins and McNeil ¯ Women of Spirit then things happened to destroy it. to change it. and in the midst ofthe"destruction, in the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. I held on, and God created something new. ELIZABETH: I had been looking at my life in one way. and then things happened to change it. When I was twenty-three, pregnant with Richard, my father-in-law died, and we took charge of the seven young Seton children . . . and then things happened to destroy my life. William's health became a real worry for me. When I was twenty-seven, my father died . . . Around that time, too, the family business suffered terrible losses., and William was so ill that we decided to travel to Italy for his health. After thirty terrible days, quarantined in the Lazaretto near Livorno, we moved to a house in Pisa, rented for us by the Filicchis.~6 Will died there, with Anna Maria (Annina) and me at his side. I was twenty-nine. He was buried in Livorno. Each time I visited his grave, I wept over it for a long time with inexpressible tenderness and "unrestrained affection." It seemed that I loved him more than anyone could love on earth.17 I had been looking at my life in one way., and then things happened to destroy it. to change it. - "the sharp thorn in the heart."~s And in the midst of the destruction, in the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. I held on, and God created something new. It was in those months in Italy after William's death that I was exposed to the full radiance of the Catholic faith. You drew me to it, Jesus - you and your Mother. Through storms of tears and questions, of doubts and anguish, you drew me to the Catholic faith. @hrough fifty-six days on the ocean voyage home, with Annina, and in the company of Antonio Filicchi, through desires and temptations, I remained faithful to you, God, and you created something new. In New York, on Ash Wednesday 1805, I turned the corner of Barclay Street, where St. Peter's Catholic Church was, and said to myself: "Here, my God, I go, heart all to you!" ~9 Reflect for a few minutes now on your conversion experience. LOUISE: Ultimately I came to embrace the God of both light and darkness and proclaim, "God is my God.''2° "I gave -~2~5~6-] him my full consent to work in me by his power whatever he Review for Religious willed to see accomplished.''2~ In 1629 1 met a young woman of Suresnes named Marguerite Naseau [1594-1633], who had presented herself to Monsieur Vincent. She was the first to serve in the Charities.22 Vincent de Paul asked me to organize and form the growing group of country girls who had come to Paris to serve the poor. "God, my only hope, your love impels me." My urgency impels my sisters. "Continue, [my sisters,] to love His service by observing your Rules, especially by the cordiality and support you show one another. You can be certain that God is with you.''23 Give yourselves entirely to God in order to serve God in the poor24 "As for your conduct with the sick, may you never take the attitude of merely getting the task done. You must show them affection, serving them from the heart, inquiring of them what they might need, speaking to them gently and compassionately.''2s "Perfection is not to be found [in excessive introspection], but in the practice of true charity.''26 "Be very gentle and courteous toward your poor. You know that they are our masters and that we must love them tenderly and respect them deeply.''27 Our Savior has taught us charity in order to make up for our own powerlessness to render him any service,z8 "Oh, what a happiness it would be, provided God were in no way offended, were the Company to serve only the totally destitute.''29 I had been looking at my life in one way., and then things happened to destroy it. to change it. and in the midst of the destruction, in the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. I held on, and God created something new. Reflect now on what God has created new in your life. In the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. ELIZABETH: I had been looking at my life in one way., and then things happened to destroy it. to change it. and in the midst of the destruction, in the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. I held on, and God created something new. On Pentecost 1806 1 received the sacrament of confirmation May-June 2002 Higgins and McNeil ¯ Women of Spirit from Bishop John Carroll. Later I wrote to my spiritual advisors: Things are so bad in New York for me, and so financially tenuous--should I move to Canada? While I was waiting for some reply, I chanced to meet Father William Du Bourg, who invited me to Baltimore to open a school for girls. Bishop Carroll and all my priest friends supported me, and in June 1808 we began our journey to a new life, in Maryland. LOUISE: I put my trust in Providence. I said to my sisters: "If you completely entrust everything to the guidance of Divine Providence and love the most holy will of God, this will contribute greatly to your peace of mind and heart. In fact, this is one of the most essential practices I know of for growth in holiness.''3° "We can have no peace with God, with our neighbor, or with ourselves unless Jesus Christ gives it to us.''3~ "Vows have their origin in Love. in the cross." 32 "One of the principal graces God has given you, my sisters, is your call to this Company and your vocation of charity; I will tell you, then, what your thoughts about it should be - there may be both very highs and very lows and still without contradiction.,,33 ELIZABETH: I had been looking at my life in one way . . . and then things happened to destroy it. to change it. and in the midst of the destruction, in the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. I held on, and God created something new. While I was trying to figure out a way to teach poor little girls, God sent into my life Mr. Samuel Cooper, a convert, who was becoming a priest and was disposing of his wealth. He wished to fund education for Emmitsburg's poor, and also various services for the elderly and for needy families. "Our Lord will direct all, whatever you say or do I shall consider as his voice and will.''34 "I set out on a new career: peace and silence and submission the whole aim.''35 "Do we serve God in hope, looking to his promises, confiding in his love, seeking his kingdom, and leaving the rest to him?''36 "Providence has disposed for me a plan after my own heart.''~7 Reflect awhile on your eJcperience of Providence. ELIZABETH: Not only would I have a school there, but a new religious community. I wrote to a friend in New York: "Mr. Cooper has given a handsome property for the establishment of such females as may choose to lead a religious life. We are going Review for Religious to begin our novitiate in a beautiful country place in the mountains." 38 I rejoiced in my new home, communing with God amidst "woods, rocks, walks.''39 "Peace . enjoying the liberty of solitude, country life, and plenty of every good.''4° I wrote to my lifelong friend Julia Sitgreaves Scott: "It is true also that I shall be at the head of a community which will live under the strictest rules of order and regularity.-41 Even in Emmitsburg I remembered my last home in New York, on State Street. I wrote to my dear friend Eliza Craig Sadler: "Think of me when you pass it again. Can a heart swell so high and not burst? Yet would I change one shade or trial of it? That would be madness, and working in the dark.''42 The building and nurturing of my new religious community was my next challenge, for "one can't talk of making nuns like making bread.''43 I cautioned about the danger of being "lovers with our lips rather than our heart, while a true lover of Christ can never have enough of his cross.''44 I told my young sister-in-law Cecilia Seton: "Rejoice to bear your share in the cross, which is our passport and seal to the kingdom of the Redeemer.''4s At our council meeting we agreed that "no personal inconvenience should prevent Sisters of Charity from doing what duty and charity required.''46 From its inception I felt loved by my sisters. I told my New York friends that they should come and see my community's black gowns and demure faces, "which hid a set of as lively and merry hearts as ever met together.''47 As grateful as I was for the plenty of every good, the Real Presence in the Blessed Sacrament was for me the best of all God's gifts. It was the treasure of my soul.48 Sickness and death were never far from us in Emmitsburg. In 1810, when my sister-in-law, now Sister Cecilia Seton, died, I told Julia Scott: "I am sending my rosebuds to bloom in heaven." 49 On 12 March 1812 my beloved daughter Annina died. Through the stark days after her death, I found myself "begging, crying to Mary to behold her Son and plead for us, and to Jesus to behold his Mother - to pity a mother, [this] poor, poor mother." S° On 3 November 1816 my youngest, Rebecca, died. She was only fourteen. "I am sending my rosebuds to bloom in heaven." May-June 2002 Higgins and McNeil ¯ Women of Spirit "God is with us - and, if sufferings abound in us, his consolations also greatly abound, and far exceed all utterance. [I was] not only willing to take my cross, but kissed it too.''sl "My own troubles.will teach me, I hope, how to comfort others." s2 Reflect on troubles that taught you how to comfort others. --- 260-J ELIZABETH: In 1811 I met Father Simon Gabriel Brutfi, "a true cordial to my heart."" He was my soul's friend and guide. The Scriptures continued to be God's wellspring for me. "Nothing in our state of clouds and veils can I see so plainly as how the saints died of love and joy, since I, so wretched and truly miserable, can only read word after word of the blessed 83rd and 41st psalms in unutterable feelings - God - God - God - that the supreme delight, that he is God, and to open the mouth and heart wide that he may fill it." s~ "I long and wish to serve our Lord with every breath I draw."" "Oceans of LOVE to plunge in for eternity, every faculty of our soul dilated!!!!! - heavenly pure supernatural love undivided - God alone - ,,s6 Love love love, when will I love enough? "This world of separations must have its course. We must take its good and evil quietly as it passes - for my part I am now so accustomed to look only at our God in all that happens that it seems to me [that] the most painful things in the order of his providence can but increase our confidence and peace in him, since all will draw us but nearer to himself." ~7 "If it succeeds I bless God, if [it] does not succeed I bless God, because then it will be right that it should not succeed.''s8 LOUISE: In my prayer at Chartres, where I dedicated the Company to God through the prayers of the Blessed Virgin, I asked God to destroy the Company "rather than let it be established contrary to his holy will." s9 ELIZABETH: God, your love impelled me. and my urgency impelled my sisters. "Our God is God, and I know.all will turn out well at last., the ways of Providence are mysterious indeed as to the human nature, but most clearly we may distinguish in them the progress of the divine, pervading all.''6° "Be children of the church . be children of the church .,. May the most just, the most high, and the most amiable will of God be accomplished forever!''61 LOUISE: I had been looking at my life in one way., and Review for Religious then things happened to destroy it. to change it. and in the midst of the destruction, in the midst of the changes, I remained faithful to God. I held on, and God created something new. My life with the Company of Charity captured my heart, focused my mind, stabilized my soul for the single-minded search for the living reign of God, of God who was justice for the poor, healing for the sick, light for those in darkness. My story, like yours, is about bringing spiritual presence to a world lost in the mundane.62 ELIZABETH: "Let your chief study be to acquaint yourself with God because there is nothing greater than God." 63 "How grateful, then, should we be for our vocation, which is in itself a practice of the two principal commandments - obliging us to give every moment of life to charity, serving her [our vocation, charity] exteriorly in our care of the body, but principally in our care of souls, speaking to them of God, and helping them to know and love him eternally. Besides, how grateful we should be to God for choosing us for this manner of life.''6~ Notes ~ A version of this article was first presented at Seton Legacy III, a symposium on Elizabeth Seton and Incarnational Spirituality for a Contemporary World (Sisters of Charity Federation, 2001). 2 Nicolas Gobillon, La Vie de Mademoiselle/sic] Le Gras: Fondatrice et Premikre Superieure de la Compagnie des Filles de la Chariti, Servantes des Pauvres Malades (Paris: Andr~ Pralard, 1676). 3 This reflection may incorporate music and song into a multimedia presentation. The opening song could be "I Heard the Voice of Jesus" (Kingsfold). An entrance procession could be orchestrated with a solo flute, then flute and piano, then flute, piano, and guitar, then singing. As the song is sung, a processiofi could begin, with candle, incense, and LOUISE and ELIZABETH. Reflective interludes could be enhanced by sung verses of an arrangement of Elizabeth's favorite psalm, Psalm 23 (such as Marty Haugen's "Shepherd Me, O God"). The reflection could conclude with "Sing a New Church" (Nettleton). 4 See Ronald Rolheiser, The Holy Longing (New York: Doubleday, 1999), p. 165. 5 Mary Catherine Bateson, Composing a Life (New York: A Plume Book, 1990), pp. 1, 9. 6 "On Charity," in Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac, ed. Louise May-3~une 2002 Higgins and McNeil ¯ Women of Spirit Sullivan DC (New York: New City Press, 1991), p. 71 I. 7 "Mother Seton's Baptism," in Mother Seton Guild Bulletin 16 (November 1945), p. 3. 8 Elizabeth Seton to George Weis, 13 May 1810, quoted in Mother Seton Notes by Simon Gabriel Brute, ed. Loyola Law DC (Emmitsburg, 1884), p. 98. 9 To Philip Filicchi, 21 January 1809, in Elizabeth Seton: Selected Writings, ed. Ellin M. Kelly and Annabelle Melville (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), p. 244. ~0 "Exercise of the Presence of God," in Archives Saint Joseph's Provincial House, Daughters of Charity, Emmitsburg, Maryland (hereafter ASJPH), 1-3-3-23B, 58. Quoted in Joseph I. Dirvin CM, The Soul of Elizabeth Seton: A Spiritual Portrait (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1990), p. 103. ,l Ec. 848. ~2 Joseph I. Dirvin C2vl, Louise de Marillac (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1970), p. 22. ~3 Anna Maria 1795-1812, William 1796-1868, Richard 1798-1823, Catherine 1800-1891, and Rebecca Mary 1802-1816. ~4 31 December 1799, ASJPH 1-3-3-3:1. ,5 See "Light," in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 1. ,6 Antonio and Filippo Filicchi, devout Catholics who lived in Livorno (Leghorn), were longtime business associates of the Setons. Filippo married Mary Cowper in Boston; Antonio's wife was Amabilia Baragazzi. ,7 See letter to Rebecca Seton, 5 March 1804, in Elizabeth Barley Seton: Collected Writings, 3 vols. projected, ed. Regina Bechde SC and Judith Metz SC (New York: New City Press, 2000), Vol. 1, p. 294. ~8 To Julia Scott, 5 March 1805, in Bechde and Metz, Elizabeth Barley Seton, Vol. 1, p. 345. ~gJoumal for Amabilia Filicchi, 27 February 1805, Ash Wednesday, in Bechde and Metz, Elizabeth Bayley Seton, Vol. 1, p. 375. 20 To Vincent de Paul, 24 August before 1650, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 341. 2~ "Renunciation of Self," in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 720. 22 Dirvin, Louise de Marillac, p. 87. See also "On the Love of Our Vocation and on Helping the Poor," 13 February 1646, in Conferences of Vincent de Paul to the Daughters of Charity, ed. and trans. Joseph Leonard CM (Westminster, Md.: Christian Classics, 1968), Vol. 1, p. 217. zs To Catherine Gesse, 4 May 1659, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 639. 24 See "On the Love of Our Vocation," in Conferences of Vincent de Review for Religious Paul to the Daughters of Charity, Vol. 1, p. 223, and "On Serving the Sick and the Care of One's Health," 11 November 1657, also in Conferences, Vol. 3, p. 292. 2s "Instructions to the Sisters Who Were Sent to Montreuil," October 1646, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 773. 26 To the Sisters of the H6tel-Dieu of Nantes, 13 July 1658, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, pp. 600-601. 27 To Sister C~cile Agn~s, 4 May 1650, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 320. 28 See "On the Spirit of the Company," 9 February 1653, in Conferences of Vincent de Paul, Vol. 2, p. 204; also Vincent de Paul to Anne Hardemont, 24 November 1658, in Vincent de Paul, Cor-respondence, Conferences, and Documents, ed. and trans. Marie Poole DC (New York: New City Press, 1997), Vol. 7, pp. 396-397. 29 Ec. 994. 3o To Mathurine Gu6rin, 23 December 1659, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 662. 31 To Our Very Dear Sisters, the Daughters of Charity at Nantes, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 197. ~2 Ec. 845. 33 "Thoughts of Mademoiselle Le Gras On [the] Vocation of [the] Sisters of Charity," trans. Elizabeth Ann Seton, in Reflections of Saint Louise, ASJPH 1-3-3-24B. This manuscript in Elizabeth Seton's own handwriting is the first English version of the final book of Nicolas Gobillon's/~e de Mademoiselle Le Gras. 34 To Philip Filicchi, Baltimore, 21 January 1809, in Kelly and Melville, Elizabeth Seton, p. 244. 3s To Rev. Simon Gabriel Brute, November n.d., ASJPH 1-3-3- 12:81. 36 "The Sisters of Charity meditate on the service of God," ASJPH 1-3-3-20E, 37. 37 To Julia Scott, 2 March 1809, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:76. 38 To Rose Stubbs, Baltimore, 20 February 1809, ASJPH 1-3-3- 2:103. 39 Dear Remembrances, ASJPH 1-3-3-26A, quoted in Kelly and Melville, Elizabeth Seton, p. 352. 40To Julia Scott, 20 July 1810, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:83. 41To Julia Scott, 23 March 1809, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:77. 42To Eliza Sadler, Baltimore, 20January 1809, ASJPH 1-3-3-7:35. 43To Julia Scott, 29 October 1812, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:95. ~ "Exercise of the Presence of God," ASJPH 1-3-3-23B, 57, quot'ed May-June 2002 Higgins and McNeil ¯ Women of Spirit in Dirvin, Soul of Elizabeth, .pp. 102-103. 45 To Cecilia Seton, 1 October 1803, Bechtle and Metz, Elizabeth Bayley Seton, Vol. 1, p. 224. 46 First Council Book," Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph's, 20 August 1814, ASJPH. 47 To Julia Scott, 20 September 1809, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:79. 48 See Dirvin, Soul of Elizabeth, p. 74. 49 To Julia Scott, 20 July 1810, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:83. 50 To Rev. Simon Gabriel Brute, 22 September 1812, ASJPH 1-3-3- 12:33, quoted in Dirvin, Soul of Elizabeth, p. 82. 5t To Rebecca Seton, 20th [November 1803]. Archives Mount St. Vincent, Sisters of Charity of Saint Vincent de Paul of New York, N/P 110: M, II, 12. 52 To Archbishop Carroll, 6 August 1809, Archives of the Archdiocese of Baltimore 7M4. 53 To Julia Scott, 20 May 1815, ASJPH 1-3-3-6:106. 54 ASJPH 1-3-3-12:44, n.d. Psalm 83 (Ps. 84 in present-day Catholic Bibles) and Psalm 41 (Ps. 42) are prayers of longing for God. 55 To Antonio Filicchi, 22 May 1810, quoted in Kelly and Melville, Elizabeth Seton, p. 280. s6 Kelly and Melville, Elizabeth Seton, p. 327. 57 To Mary FitchBayley Bunch, 26.June 1819, ASJPH 1-3-3-7:88. 58 To Antonio Filicchi, 6 May 1805, in Bechde and Metz, Elizabech Barley Seton, Vol. 1, p. 362. 59 "Account of the Pilgrimage to Chartres," October 1644, in Sullivan, Spiritual Writings, p. 122. 6o To Cecilia Seton, Friday, July [1806], ASJPH 1-3-3-8:92. 6, Law, Mother Seton Nobles by Simon Gabriel Bruti, p. 26. 6z See Joan Chittister OSB, Fire in These Ashes. 63 To Cecilia Seton, 19 November 1802, ASJPH 1-3-3-8:87. 64 "Thoughts of Mademoiselle Le Gras on [the] Vocation of [the] Sisters of Charity," trans. Elizabeth Ann Seton, in Reflections of Saint Louise. Review for Religious REGINA SIEGFRIED From Paschal Mystery to Reconciliation, from ASCs to Adorers ~thodate smcoritbivea tietss ca hcaornigsmreg? aWtiohna tto p ursoem dpiftfse trhenatt tsearmmein coolomgy-munity to find another name for itself, for use within the com-munity and for others' use too? The Adorers of the Blood of Christ have recently experienced these two developments. For a community of women religious whose charism is rooted in a cen-tral mystery of our redemption, the answers to those questions flow from a developing appreciation of our rich charism. Some excellent recent studies of religious life and charism provide the background for this article.~ But, rather than focus-ing on distinctions and nuances of charisms, this article takes note of one congregation's growing understanding of its charism and maintains that "history changed the expression of our charism," as Joe Nassal CPPS says in "Reclaiming Our Name.''2 While 19th-century terms often sound antiquated to 2 lst-cen-tury ears, the founding charism, now expressed in today's lan-guage, still resonates for our' congregation. In a letter to Biagio Valentini CPPS, dated 28 June 1841, Maria de Mattias, founder of the congregation, wrote: "The Regina Siegfried ASC, known to many of our readers, writes from the Department of Theological Studies; Saint Louis University; P.O. Box 56907; St. Louis, Missouri 63156. May-June 2002 SiegiCried * From Paschal Mystery to Reconciliation spirit of this holy work., is all charity., charity toward God and the dear neighbor." The preface to the 1857 constitution describes the charism in these words: Now this our lowly Congregation that lives and labors under the glorious title of the most precious Blood of Jesus Christ must be patterned and shaped into a living image of that divine charity with which this ¯ divine blood was shed and of which it was and is sign, expression, measure, and pledge. Maria de Mattias understood our sharing in the redemption in terms of our practice of "charity toward God and the dear neigh-bor." In violent 19th-century Italy, where political and social strife were the reality of life, Maria de Mattias knew that the "divine charity with which this divine blood was shed" spoke to the hearts of her "dear neighbors," especially the women and children, who needed education and longed to hear a word of peace. Recent Developments in the Founding Charism After Vatican Council II, the congregation, now worldwide, missionary, and ministering in truly needy places, rephrased the founding charism in its 1968 "Life Charter," and kept the same wording in the 1992 revision of the constitution: Our charism as Adorers of the Blood of Christ is deeply rooted in the death-resurrection mystery of Jesus. Ours is a paschal identity, signed in the blood of the Lamb. As a congregation we are to bear witness in hope and joy to the living presence in our world today of Christ's adoring, redeeming love, which gives meaning to human suffering and can render it power-fully liberating and life-giving. (§22, "Paschal Mystery in Our Charism") Although the title of our congregation has changed slightly over the years, "adorers" has always been a decisive part. The original document, written in Maria's own hand, has "Adorers of the Divine Blood." A later shift was to "Adorers of the Blood of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." In 1968 the congregation's name was changed from "Sisters Adorers of the Most Precious Blood" to "Adorers of the Blood of Christ" to reflect a more contemporary and holistic under- Review for Religious standing of the theology of the Blood of Christ. The United States expression of the charism moved from devotionalism to a concentration on the paschal mystery. We began to give more attention to life, death, and resurrection in the life of Jesus, in the life of the church, in the life of the congregation, and in its members' lives. Immersed in this mystery of our redemption through community education and personal prayer, we hoped to grow to be "more credible witness[es] of God's tender love, of which the blood of Jesus is vibrant sign and unending covenant pledge" (Life Charter, §2). Becoming credible witnesses meant (and still means) living lives of simplicity, involvement in social-justice issues, solidarity with the poor, and improving our community living through communication workshops, conflict resolution, and prayer. Reflecting on the intensely apostolic implications of the charism helped us understand more fully that ministry flows from prayer and prayer floods ministry, much as the classic "Gift of the Nile" provided thriving stands of wheat. "Adorers" in our tide is contemplative; "Blood of Christ" keeps us mindful of the work of redemption. The one title expresses the unity of con-templation and mission. Along with other communities, we researched our roots, wrote histories, and reclaimed a charism that had been in us from the beginning. We .were proud to be Adorers of the Blood of Christ, confident that our paschal-mystery charism continues to be a fiery and energizing spirit for the church and us. The United States expression of the charism moved from devotionalism to a concentration on the paschal mystery. From Paschal Mystery to Reconciliation In "Reclaiming Our Name," Joe Nassal CPpS writes: "The charism does not change . What changes is our response that is shaped by the currents of history." This is precisely what hap-pened to the Adorers of the Blood of Christ and to other May-June 2002 Siegfried ¯ From Paschal Mystery to Reconciliation Precious Blood congregations in the early 1990s. After our two decades of highlighting the paschal-mystery facet of the charism, historical events drew our attention, prayer, and reflection to another facet of our theologically complex charism. Our international congregation has a province in Bosnia and had United States missionaries in Liberia, West Africa. In the early 1990s war raged in both places. While we dreaded that sisters might be killed in Bosnia, it was the five United States Adorers shot and killed in Liberia in October 1992 that gave the Croatian sisters who ministered in Bosnia the courage to stay with the people, to witness to peace, and to attempt to bring reconciliation there. Matija Pavic, one of the Croatian Adorers who experienced the war and destruction of that country, wrote: Since their martyrdom I can say we feel greater close-ness among us, at the level of the province and of the congregation as well . We experienced the truth of the Word that we are called to witness Christ even to shedding of our own blood. We were overwhelmed by feelings of worry, compassion, and prayer; it was as if their suffering spilled over into us.3 Reconciliation is p.ossible only when we have embraced the paschal mystery. The violent shedding of blood in our lifetime--in South Africa, Central and South America, Croatia, Bosnia, Rwanda, and Indonesia, in the crime and violence on U.S.A. streets, and in the terrorist attacks here, there, and there too--this bloodshed cries for reconciliation rather than revenge. As Adorers, we understand the seemingly impossible hope that the shedding of the Blood of Christ gives to Christianity. Christ's death was not the end, but the beginning of salvation and reconciliation. So, too, the bloodshed and suffering of our world today need not be just a sad series of endings; it can be the beginning of a new, though painful, reconciliation for this world of ours today. While bloody violence in South Africa and Central America and elsewhere horrified us, much of it was far away from our-selves, or so it seemed. Liberia and Bosnia, similarly far away, were made personal, close up, and full of grief for us Adorers because of the presence, suffering, and death of sisters of ours in those countries. We were now immediate sufferers, with raw Review for Religious and public sorrow. We knew, however, that our sisters gave their lives in the service of the Liberian people and that the Croatian sisters of our congregation willingly suffered along with their people. As Robert Schreiter CPPS has written, "repentance can orig-inate from the side of those who have perpetrated violence, but reconciliation and forgiveness must come from the side of those who have suffered violence.''4 Revenge is anger with an ugly face and the wielding of weapons. The retaliator is reduced to the level of the perpetrator; revenge continues the cycle of violence, spinning it out of control into more madness. Reconciliation is love tempered by suffering, immersing the wounded in the depths of the paschal mystery of our redemption. Reconcilers seek to restore wholeness, and not cause more fragmentation and division. Reconciliation and revenge are not mutually exclusive things separated by an unbridgeable chasm. Rather, they are participants in a con-versation earnestly seeking deeper understanding. For either partner to demonize the other destroys the communication. In a homily during a prayer service for peace shortly after 11 September 2001, Joan Range ASC told us "we must reflect on the cost of bringing peace through reconciliation." She prayed that Jesus would "heal our wounds and give us [his] Spirit so that we can be ambassadors of [his] reconciling presence in the world." Peace and peacemaking on many levels become the work of those who reconcile. Robert Schreiter describes three characteristics of the spir-ituality of reconciliation: an attitude of listening and waiting, attention and compassion, and a postexilic stance.5 As we tell our own stories of the violence done to us, we learn to listen to other sufferers, to wait with them as the pain becomes trans-formative. Reconciliation keeps us conscious of the suffering of others; we become compassionate in ways we never dreamed possible. We learn to live in a new place, beyond the circum-stances that abruptly or gradually exiled us from our former existence: "For those who are reconciled, reconciliation becomes Reconcilers seek to restore wholeness, and not cause more fragmentation and division. May-~une 2002 Sie~ffHed ¯ From Paschal Mystery to Reconciliation a calling. They move to a wholly new place, from which they call oppressors to repentance and serve in a prophetic way for the whole of society.''6 From ASCs to Adorers Why, in the last year or two, have we in the United States province of the Adorers of the Blood of Christ begun to refer to ourselves as "Adorers" instead of using the convenient acronym "ASCs"? (Our website is now even !) Is it merely a way to greater name-recognition, an attempt to dis-tance ourselves from the elaborate code of Catholic religious-congregation abbreviations? While Adorers seems easier to understand and to have better name recognition, I think there is more to it than that. The shift from ASCs to Adorers highlights the contemplative dimension of the charism and provides for the balance of prayer in the midst of activity. Helen Lindsey ASC believes that "Adorer is a statement of who we are; adoration is what establishes the uniqueness of our charism.''7 We have become comfortable with "Adorers" because we have contemplated the paschal mystery, we now realize and internalize more fully what reconciliation means and demands, and we wonder where next the vitality of our charism will lead us. Perhaps Maria de Mattias sensed the link between adoration and reconciliation when she wrote to her bishop on 13 November 1838 that our work is to "establish that beautiful order of things which the great Son of God came to establish in his blood." Contemplation and adoration urge us to reconcili-ation and restoration of right relationships. Theresa Wetta ASC succinctly describes the unfolding of the charism when she says: Reconciliation as a current expression of our charism was prompted, I believe, by the work the CPPS men were doing on spirituality coupled with the increasing need for reconciliation in our more violent and disturbed world. Love and unity have always been expressions of our charism. Now we see love and unity achieved through efforts at reconciliation--the same deep union that Jesus achieved for/with us through the shedding of his blood.8 Review for Religious While this article concentrates on one small community, I think it has implications beyond the Adorers of the Blood of Christ. If we believe that all religious congregation charisms are vibrant, flaming gifts and graces given to our founders and living in us, they do indeed grow, develop, and breathe in us for today's world. Communities can trace the expansion and maturing of their foundational charism to discover how that gift is still relevant, appropriate, and significant in contemporary society. Notes ~ See Marianne Stevens RSM, "Revitalizing Charisms Inspiring Religious Life," and Joseph Nassal CPPS, "Reclaiming Our Name," Review for Religious 53, no. 6 (November-December 1994): 847-859 and 840-846, respectively; Margaret Susan Thompson, "Charism or Deep Story? Towards Understand Better the 19th-Century Origins of American Women's Congregations," Review for Religious 58, no. 3 (May-June 1999): 230-250; Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, Finding the Treasure (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000): chaps. 9 and 10. z Review for Religious 53, no. 6 (November-December 1994): 843. 3 Email to author, July 2001; trans. Viktorija Tomic ASC. 4 Robert J. Schreiter CPPS, Reconciliation: Mission and Ministry in a Changing Social Order (Maryknoli: Orbis Books, 1992), p. 21. See also Joseph Nassal CPPS, Premeditated Mercy: A Spirituality of Reconciliation (Leavenworth: Forest of Peace Publishing, 2000), for another fine study of reconciliation. s See Schreiter, Reconciliation, pp. 70-73. 6 Schreiter, Reconciliation, p. 73. 7 Helen Lindsey ASC in email to author, 31 December 2001. 8 Therese Wetta ASC in email to author, 24 January 2002. May-June 2002 DEBORAH M. CERULLO Distinctiveness, Diversity, and Commonness in Consecrated Life religious life culture Much is being written these days concerning where we are currently situated in religious life. Some are calling it the dark night of the souU Others see it as a time for courageous waiting,2 comparing it to being inside a cocoon, developing as we are meant to develop, but at risk of being impatiently opened too soon? While these images are helpful, especially as they allay some of the fears that surround the uncer-taihty of our times, I wonder if there is more clarity about who we are becoming than we sometimes give ourselves credit for. We have spent many years devel-oping those aspects of our life of faith that we share with others' outside our communities, including spirituality, ministry, community, and even charism. We have deconstructed our boundaries and empha-sized an inclusiveness in keeping with Vatican Council II's renewal of the universal call to holiness. As our understanding of what we share with others continues to develop, we are now also beginning to hear the call Deborah M. Cerullo $$ND wrote "Charism and Membership" in our September-October 1999 issue. She is visiting associate clinical professor of law at Boston College Law School; 885 Centre Street; Newton, Massachusetts 02459. Review for Religious to discover our distinctiveness. We are being asked to explore what makes the lifestyle of religious life distinctive, not because it is better or holier, but simply because it is different. This article will explore questions about distinctiveness, diversity, and commonness as we continue our movement from the high-walled boundaries of the pre-Vatican II era to our cur-rent search for new boundaries. It will also propose one method that religious institutes might use to answer these questions. My bias in this project is a belief that we are in a criti-cal time. If we wish to sus-tain the distinctiveness that is religious life, we must deal with our diversity and externalize our new ~reality in a more common way. My thoughts are from the view-point of one who did not experience religious life before or during most of its Religious life is a lifestyle that inculcates and fosters interior and exterior habits that have proved helpful in following Jesus Christ closely. deconstruction, having entered in the mid 1980s. I do not claim that others who entered when I did necessarily have the same thoughts as I do, nor do I think that only those who entered after Vatican II have thoughts like mine, but I do think that we who never experienced religious life's preconciliar uniformity have a different perspective on "commonness" than those who did.4 From my perspective commonness is not the same as uni-formity. I take for granted that diversity is good and that respect for the needs of individuals is important for our future. Distinctiveness and Diversity The distinctiveness of religious life comes from its primary focus, which is God. It is a lifestyle that inculcates and fosters interior and exterior habits that have proved helpful in follow-ing Jesus Christ closely. The means that are most distinctive of the lifestyle of consecrated life are the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, shared governance and finances, and a perma-nent commitment to religious life. Except that unmarried lay life excludes sexual activity, no other Christian lifestyle requires May-June 2002 Cerullo ¯ Distinctive'hess, Diversity, and Commonness --- 294A people to renounce private property, sexual activity, marriage, and autonomy (sharing financial resources with other members and abiding by decisions made by other members), all on a permanent basis. As religious life does too, other Christian lifestyles, of course, call for ministry, community, prayer, and social justice. For some, these calls come from within the charism of a par-ticular religious family through various associate programs,s Although religious and others still ask whether those making only temporary commitments might be invited to full mem-bership or whether some dedicated people should be invited to make permanent but partial commitments that would, say, include participation in government but not the life of the vows, these are questions without present answers. Meanwhile, other questions about joining with others in ministry, promoting social justice, forming alternative communities, and praying and grow-ing spiritually have all been answered with a resounding yes, and the only questions left are whether there need be any limits to this sharing. There are diverse views in religious life today and diverse choices being made. I believe that exploring this diversity is crucial to understanding the distinctiveness of religious life.6 Because being nonjudgmental and tolerant is such a strong cul-tural value today, many have adopted a live-and-let-live attitude that can prevent dialogue from being meaningful. While this attitude reduces tension and conflict within our congrega-tions, there is danger of our not engaging one another at enough depth to keep our passion alive, the passion inside each of us that enlivens our commitments for shared mission. In discussing diversity we must ask whether there are essen-tials in the living o]: consecrated life beyond which we venture at our peril. If so, how do we decide what they are? For exam-ple, most would agree that an active sexual relationship is incon-sistent with the commitment to consecrated celibacy. The boundary is fairly well established, with little, though some, disagreement. Even the disagreement, however, is more in the-oretical terms thari in. open behavior. Can we identify similar boundaries for gospel poverty and apostolic obedience? Gospel poverty seems to be an area that permits a wide variance of opinion, but at the same time includes silent disapproval of the Review for Religious way some members' choices undermine community relation-ships. Apostolic obedience seems to enjoy wide support for the view that the distinctiveness of our living the vow of obedience is limited to who we invite into our discernments (that is, lead-ership instead of a spouse or friend), rather than something qualitatively different. Even here, however, there would be wide disagreement about how and when leadership is invited into our personal discernments. Although these issues are significant, the questions sur-rounding the areas that we share with nonmembers are, I believe, even more significant. In our age of respect for the individual and in our reaction against religious life's preconciliar unifor-mity, we are strongly supportive of a wid~ diversity of choices in ministry and in styles of community and prayer, including when and with whom we engage in these aspects of our life. This diversity is so great that many of us have difficulty finding members with whom to share our work, homes, and prayer, especially on a daily basis. For like-minded members to come together once or twice a month is seen as an acceptable alter-native to daily sharing, especially by those whose entered before Vatican II, the majority of our membership. This opinion is not shared by most members who entered after the council and is a growing source of difficulty.7 This issue is at the heart of our different belonging needs. For mem-bers who have a well-developed sense of belonging after decades of membership, living, working, or even praying with other members of the congregation does not appear to be a strong need so long as the intermittent connection is maintained. The same practice would also likely satisf3, those who do not have a strong sense of belonging within the congregation, but still desire some of the benefits of membership. The question that remains is whether our diverse choices about ministry, community, and shared prayer so detract from our distinctiveness that our current support for them will con-tribute more to the loss of our lifestyle than to its flourishing, or whether the values and social movement that generated this diversity are so important that diversity must be allowed to con-tinue unabated. VChile in theory the answer probably lies some-where between these extremes, that middle ground can be achieved only if enough members keep trying to achieve it. May-.~une 2002 Cerullo ¯ Distinctiveness, Diversity, and Commonness The area where we seem most united, with very little articulated diversity, is in our social-justice views. The area where we seem most united, with very little artic-ulated diversity, is in our social-justice views. Vghile tolerance of different perspectives on living the vows, prayer, community life, and ministry are, in my view, the norm, this is not true of our justice perspectives. In her recent book Finding the Treasure, Sandra Schneiders has gone so far as to suggest that this social-justice work on behalf of the poor and marginalized (which she calls the prophetic dimen-sion of religious life) isin fact a primary distinguishing characteristic of religious life.~ While Schneiders's work as a whole is a major contribution to any analysis of contemporary religious life, this assertion seems to me quite extraordinary, con-sidering the latitude she gives in all other categories. Her descrip-tion of our prophetic role as standing on the margins of church and society, lamenting the iniustices of our world, and offering hope to the oppressed seems appropriate for some of our mem-bership, for whom social justice is a passion. It seems all the more appropriate, then, for some congregations whose charism involves such social protest. But, though I believe that most of us would support and affirm the need for a social-justice dimen-sion in our lives and our congregations, I am not convinced that we would agree that this dimension is the distinguishing char-acteristic that all members must espouse with the fervor and ded-ication of a prophet. Rather, many would assert that our prophet role as witnesses of hope and love in a broken world is meant for everyone, and that service to others is legitimate in its own right, not simply as it affects the poor and marginalized. But, even if I am wrong and most religious would claim that social justice deserves a primacy in our lives, where does that leave us on the issue of diversity? Is there a place among us for those who do not experience social justice as the primary motivating or sus-taining aspect of our vocation? What about those with minority political views? These examples highlight the difficulties we are experienc-ing as we decide what areas of our lives to emphasize and what, Review for Religious if any, boundaries should be set or maintained. Is it ever appro-priate to claim that a practice or belief is normative, or would we too likely return to a conformity that has been rejected or a majority rule that is not sufficiently respectful of individual per-spectives? I believe that how we answer these questions together within our own individual institutes will determine whether we hold on to the distinctiveness that is religious life, at least in its North American manifestation. Externalizing Our Common Reality The renewal of Vatican II brought many changes to reli-gious life, deconstructing a world where the externals had become ends in themselves. Externals became suspect, and inter-nalizing new understandings of our lifestyle became the norm. Diversity and respect for individual choices became so highly valued that the value of commonness for the sake of shared mis-sion was overwhelmed. Our challenge now is to discover ways to integrate these values so that the common life may reemerge, not in its preconciliar form, but in a way that maintains dis-tinctiveness and provides religious with sufficient support. One way to do this, I believe, is to identify the parts of our new real-ity that we regard as common and to give them external expres-sion. Symbols, myths, public rituals, and expected standards of behavior are identity markers which we need in order to embody our commitment? We must do this in a way that respects legit-imate diversity and individual needs, but does not make diver-sity and individualism ends in themselves, valued at the expense of the common life. So how might religious, together, go about answering some of these questions? In my own community we have begun with a process of theological development, especially in the areas of Christology and ecclesiology as they relate to diverse world-views from the classical, modern, and postmodern eras. Other communities are doing the same~° or are engaging in ongoing dialogue on significant.theological issues, i1 Another step in this process could include corporate theological reflection on the various elements discussed above. A group would discuss these in relation to their lived experience and with a view toward tak-ing action. It would aim at practical action, not theory, working May-June 2002 Cerullo ¯ Distinctiveness, Diversity, and Commonness out of specific contexts rather than generic truths and drawing upon lived experience as much as classical texts. It would cor-relate this experience with the sources and texts of the religious tradition and then draw out practical implications for living.12 The action goal would be commitment to living these practical implications. This process could be used in local communities, geo-graphical areas, provinces, or even entire congregations. It could involve members, associates, coworkers, or guest contributors, but decision making would be left to those planning to live the commitment. Givefi the potential difficulty of this level of dia-logue, perhaps the use of certain rules for dialogue would be useful, such as those articulated in the Common Ground ini-tiative, where Catholics with differing viewpoints are encouraged to dialogue:13 ¯ We should recognize that no single group or view-point has a complete monopoly on the truth. ¯ We should test all proposals for their pastoral realism and potential impact on living individuals. ° We should presume that those with whom we differ are acting in good faith. ¯ We should put the best possible construction on differing positions, addressing their strongest points rather than seizing upon the most vul-nerable aspects. ¯ We should be cautious [about] ascribing motives. ¯ We should bring the church [or, in our case, religious life] to engage the realities of contemporary cul~re by acknowledging both our cul-ture's valid achievements and real dangers. ¯ It could be helpful to have a skilled facilitator who is not a member of the group. Such a person can help participants to hear all voices in the dialogue, not only those that are loudest or most articulate. Another way for the group as a whole to hear different voices might be to practice by bringing together smaller groups that have types of ministry in common or simi-lar ages or similar community lifestyle experience, and then dis-cussing differences that occur even among themselves. In all such efforts, what is important is the honesty and depth of our dialogue and a true commitment to its results, neither of which is quickly or easily achieved. Summing up, I believe that we are in a critical time in reli- Review for Religious gious life when we must deal with our diversity and externalize our new reality in a more common way if we wish to sustain consecrated life's distinctiveness--the very reason why we entered religious life. The development of new symbols, myths, public rituals, and expected standards of behavior--or perhaps reclaiming some of the old with a new understanding of their meaning in our lives--is essential if we are to survive as a dis-tinct lifestyle. If we identify, and perhaps create, more of what can hold us together in this life we share, it will lead to a deep-ening of our individual and community spiritual life and empower us for more effective ministry. I believe, too, that more will want to join us if we can tell them with greater clarity who we are and how our life is different from theirs. While this can never be the primary motivation for our choices, without new members it will not matter how much diversity, respect for indi-viduals, prophetic witness, or postmodern sensibility religious life fosters, except in the lives of its last generation. Notes ~ Sandra M. Schneiders II-hVl, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial Context, vol. 1 of Religious Life in a New Millennium (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000o), chap. 5. 2 Barbara Fiand SND, Wrestling with God: Religious Life in Search of Its Soul (New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1996). 31 could not locate the source of this image, but I remember read-ing it on more than one occasion. 4 See Patricia Wittberg SC, Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), p. 126. s See John Paul II, Vita consecrata, §54. 6 1 am indebted to Mary Maher SSND for first raising this point in a workshop titled "SSND: Living in Many Worlds," held in 1999 in Chattawa, Mississippi. 7 See Catherine Bertrand SSND, "Common Threads: Are We Weaving or Unraveling?" Review for Religious 57, no. 6 (November- December 1998): 566-577. 8 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, pp. 137-149. 9 Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR, "Refounding by Honing the Purpose Concept," Review for Religious 57, no. 4 (July-August 1998): 417. ~0 Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary have been leaders in developing materials for this process and have been gener- May-June 2002 Cerullo ¯ Distinctiveness, Diversity, and Commonness ous in sharing them with others. And see Marie Chiodo DW and Mary Irving SSND, "An Itinerant Approach to Theological Updating," Review for Religious 57, no. 3 (May-June 1998): 247-259. n For example, the Congregation of Notre Dame, with whom I live, is engaged in such a dialogue on the topic of Eucharist. 12 See Robert L. Kinast, What Are They Saying about Theological Reflection? (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000). 13 National Pastoral Life Center, Called to Be Catholic: Church in a Time of Peril, Origins 26, no. 11 (29 August 1996), pp. 169-170 passim. Walking by St. Cecilia's Convent Still taking that side of the street And the convent's brick sidewalk For the memories that it had: Behind bricks" barred recesses, the lives Lived by bells that to children Seemed gladder than children's; what wrinkles Of feature or fate those wimples hid, stayed Hidden from us, singing gaily "St. C! St. C!" For the school team. Where is she now, Virginal martyr and mistress of musics, Who sheltered our years and sheltered Her servants, the habited girls? And if I knocked at her convent And said, "Take me back in" to my innocence, Sisters, to a life lived by bells, Would I find her and them? or myself only Behind bricks still quixotic as ever, Impossibiy dreaming the St. C Of me has yet to begin. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious NIHAL ABEYASINGHA The Culture of Religious Life within Asian Culture Tqe battle cry of the Fr,e, nch Revolution was "Liberty, uality, and Fraternity. The revolution in France and other revolutions that followed in Europe are well known. Two hundred years later it is almost ironical that Neil Kinnoch, onetime transport commissioner for the European Union, would almost parody that battle cry, saying "A car, a pair of jeans, and a burger are the new evidence of liberty, fraternity, and equality." Innovations within a Culture Innovations almost always stem from individuals. Yet, as Max Weber has remarked, no intellectual has ever established a religion. What becomes of the innovations is what the many other individuals who constitute society make of them. Often the results have little to do with the intention of the innovator2 To have some idea, then, of the likely direction an innovation will take, one has to look at who constitute the society into which the innovation is introduced. People differ not in soundness of reasoning, but in the principles and modalities that govern its exercise. Human experience is shaped, molded, and in a sense constituted by cultural and linguistic forms. Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR wrote two articles for our pages in 1999. He may be addressed during his sabbatical year (till mid January 2003) at St. Hilary Parish; 5465 Citronell Avenue; Pico Rivera, California 90660. May-June 2002 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life within Asian Culture The vast majority of international religious institutes rose in the West, with its long Christian tradition. Only after the 16th century were numbers of them planted in Asia. Of these, many accepted local members for the first time only in the late 19th century. With few exceptions, the first Asian superiors were named only in the mid 20th century. Today there are very few foreign religious in Asia (except for some that have come to Asia to seek members to staff their establishments in the West). Hardly any foreigners are superiors. The organization and direction of religious life have been entrusted to local personnel. But the principles and modalities that govern the course of religious life as lived in Asia need to be reflected on more carefully. The fact that international religious institutes are well established in India in terms of numbers, buildings, and involvement in many forms of apostolate does not mean that these institutes have adapted themselves to the Asian context. The question that needs to be raised is: Do these religious institutes give indications of the innovative witness of their founders and foundresses according to the principles and modalities of the functioning of the Asian mind? Unfortunately, it would seem that many Asian branches of religious institutes seek direction from their general administrations for the resolution of their local problems. The general administrations are for the most part non-Asian, and so the question arises: On what principles and modalities of reason do they offer direction'to their units in Asia? That one must keep the institution going at all costs because most present-day vocations come from Asia and Africa? Or that what the local unit decides must be right? Or that what the local unit judges to be good is good also for the institute? These modalities of reasoning can be legitimate and valid in specific instances, but are they the correct general modalities for the Asian context? The numerical growth of religious life in Asia is evident. These numerous Asian members must certainly not function or seem to function like foreign implants within the Asian culture. On the other hand, they must not simply be part and parcel of the Asian culture. Religious life must always be a challenge to the existing culture. It must be an innovation, one that witnesses to the Source of its incarnate newness. The present article oudines some considerations, in the working out of this process of Review for Religious adaptation to Asian culture--not merely reflecting the culture, but challenging it to conversion. I shall do this in the form of theses for discussion (italicized below). They are not exhaustive treatments of the issues. The Movement of Adaptation The movement of adaptation #from the gospel to the culture and back to the gospel, which is then proclaimed in its originality in a cultural modality. In his address to the first meeting of the Pastoral Council for Culture, Pope John Paul 1I pointed out that the Vatican Council committed "the whole church to listen to modern man in order to understand him and to invent a new kind of dialogue which would permit the originality of the gospel to be carried to the heart of contemporary modalities." The human situation, however, is ambiguous. People have forces in their own hands: The operative question is: What is worth losing in a culture in favor of what is to be gained in life ? either they control them or they become enslaved by them. In every instance, then, the operative question is: What is worth losing in a culture in favor of what is to be gained in life? Life is not just a dimension of the human situation that involves the satisfaction of biological or aesthetic or other needs. It is, rather, the way revealed in Jesus Christ, and it is to this life that the Christian is committed. As Pope John Paul has said, "man is the way of the church." But "man" must be understood in terms of the man, Jesus Christ. It is the proclamation of Jesus Christ that is the mission of the church) It is through inculturation that the church becomes an intelligible sign of what it is and a more effective instrument of mission. Adaptation's Goal By their witness to escbatological values, religious are called to bring the Good News of conversion into the heart of the culture. May-d~ne 2002 Abeyasingba ¯ Religious Life within Asian Culture (Religious institutes began as innovations; they must continue innovating or slowly fade away.) Pope John Paul has said that mission is contemplative action and active contemplation. Sometimes silent witness is the only way.3 Before him Pope Paul vI pointed out that "the gospel, and therefore evangelization, are certainly not identical with culture, and they are independent in regard to all cultures. Nevertheless, the kingdom which the gospel proclaims is lived by men who are profoundly linked to a culture, and the building up of the kingdom cannot avoid borrowing the elements of human culture or cultures . Therefore, every effort must be made to ensure a full evangelization of culture or, more correcdy, of cultures. They have to be regenerated by an encounter with the gospel,"4 beginning (we could add) with an encounter resulting in regeneration/conversion in the lives of Asian religious themselves. How does this happen? Perhaps the message to youth issued at the end of Vatican II can suggest a path. Each generation has to receive from its elders what they have to offer, but each generation is committed to build a better world than their elders had. In fact, the youth of today, despite many negative assessments of them, can surprise their elders. In 2000 almost a million young people gathered in Rome for the World Youth Day. The organizers were amazed at their restraint and gen-erosity. Founded as innovations, religious institutes challenge the existing forces within their culture by proclaiming the gospel afresh, bringing the good news that is able to convert and transform the culture. Such results follow in the early years, but new problems arise when the founding insight needs to be . adapted to circumstances and cultures that are quite different. As institutes increase numerically and spread geographically, their original creativeness requires some adaptation in ascetical practices, forms of work, lifestyle, and so forth. If the adaptation is not done carefully, religious life is likely to be of the world, not merely in it (rather than in the world and not of it). It would reflect the culture uncritically, without challenging it at all. Social structures in Asia, even at the present time, are feudals (at least in aspiration, if not always in fact). So the temptation in adaptation and proclamation would be toward conforming to social aspirations and doing the things that are respected and Review for Religious likely to gain recognition in society. But there must be no letup in looking for ways that the gospel and the charism (innovations, both of them) can retain their relevant originality in the Asian context. Adaptation in Context Adaptation needs to take place, for the sake of being relevant within the Asian cultural traditions. Otherwise there is danger of the message being unintelligible or thoroughly misunderstood. As has been pointed out, the Gospels can be seen as reflecting the minds of the particular evangelists. Mark is factual; Matthew is holistic and gives the big picture; Luke follows a step-by-step approach and is systematic; John preaches love. Similarly, the historical books of the Bible are factual; the prophetic books view present situations within the big picture as God might see it; the wisdom literature attempts to be syste,natic; and the psalms and the Canticle of Canticles are odes to love. All the books are valuable, and no book is less the word of God than the others. Only the modalities are different, re

Issue 61.4 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Identities Spirituality Community Living \ Profiling JULY AUGUST 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 4 Review for Rellgious hdp people respond aria bkfa thful ~ ° ~ to God's ~niversal call to holiness ~ by making available to t~em the ~piH~l legades that flow~om the'charisms of CathoUdeOnsecrated 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 ¯ \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 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 iuside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to COl)}, 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 distrihu-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 LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adv#ory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ JULY AUGUST 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 4 contents 342 feature Reciprocal Identities: Apostolic Life and Consecrated Life Patricia Wittberg sc oudines the role apostolic institutions had in shaping the identity of religious congregations in the past and describes the role of a person who would be responsible for catalyzing a congregation's reformulation of its apostolic identity in the absence of these institutions today. 352 364 spirituality Diocesan Priesthood: Discerning the Fire in Our Midst George Aschenbrenner SJ describes four steps that are part of a discerning life and three dimensions of the human stage on which the drama of a personal love-relationship with God is played. Desert Spirituality Ernest E. Larkin OCarm examines the ancient traditions of desert spirituality and contemplative prayer and proposes ways to adapt them to our times. for l~eligious 375 community living Three Forms of Community Living: A Survey Report Barbara Zajac makes a sociological survey of sisters in one religious community to explore how they define and create "community." 395 Expert Practitioners of Union: Forming, Living, and Sustaining Community Joel Giallanza CSC reviews the complexities involved in defining or describing religious community and suggests strategies to form and live and sustain community. 407 profiling Merton and the Enneagram: The Ritual Enactment of His Myth Suzanne Zuercher OSB examines Thomas Merton from his journals, considering him as an enneagram 4, his true self more acknowledged over the years, then anguished over, and ultimately embraced. 419 Liberal or Conservative: Temperaments and Faith Edward Krasevac OP proposes that awareness of temperamental affinities for liberal/conservative positions can give us a greater and sometimes much-needed sensitivity to what others are saying and give us at least a partial understanding of why we b~lieve what we believe. departments 340 Prisms 430 Canonical Counsel: Involuntary Departure 435 Book Reviews j~uly-Aug~tst 2002 prisms ~hen we say "We had an extraordinary time," for example, at a family reunion or at a church conference, we imply that the event was better than usual. The ordinary, by contrast, seems to be of negligible value. Ordinary means normal, hav-ing the implications of the usual routine. Often when we say that our time has been ordinary we signify that it has been just "more of the same." When the church makes use of the phrase ordi-nary time to describe a part of the liturgical year, we tend to .bring our everyday meaning to the phrase. We think of the routine of following one of the synoptic Gospel readings in weekday and in Sunday Eucharists. Church ordinary time seems not to emphasize cele-bration, just "more of the same." The church, how-ever, intends only to identify this part of the liturgical year as those weeks of the year proceeding in a long, numerical order (deriving from the Latin ordo) that are distinct from the holyday or holiday weeks iden-tified as Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter. And so there are some thirty weeks, liturgically, of "ordinary time" in every church year. But beyond the fact that ordinary time provides us with weeks in a numbered order, I believe that the church in her liturgy plants the seed that ordinary time is meant to be a time of wisdom. Wisdom might be described as "putting it all together," living an integrated life. For us Christians, wisdom means that we put our life together in the light of our being followers of Christ. The scrip-ture readings that flow through the Sunday and weekday read-ings for Mass and for the Liturgy of the Hours are both an inspiration for and a measurement of our living and acting as children of God. Jesus, as we see him living everyday life in the Gospels of ordinary time, remains the paradigm of what it means to be a human being, one created in the image and likeness of God. Being true God and true man, Jesus shares with us, through the Spirit, how to live our lives wisely in our own every-dayness as sons and daughters of God. We are baptized in Jesus' name; we are fed with his Body and Blood. The Son of God, Jesus, incarnate God--infinitely beyond Adam and Eve's mere creation in the image and like-ness of God--is our Brother. With him, we Christians experi-ence the new creation in his life, death, and resurrection. What our Scriptures in the church's ordinary time impress upon us is that we do not turn to the Gospels just for the high points of suffering or triumph or just for some code of rules. The Gospels are written to enter us into Jesus' wisdom way of living. Like St. Paul, we spend our lives trying to make it ever more true that "I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me." The church presents us ordinary Christians with a chal-lenging paradox. Ordinary time is wisdom time. Because we are being formed daily by the word of God and nourished by daily bread, we dare to say with Jesus: "Our Father." David L. Fleming SJ July-August 2002 feature PATRICIA WITTBERG Reciprocal Identities: Apostolic Life and Consecrated Life This year my congregation is celebrating its 150th anniversary. In special symposia and lectures, in liturgies and panel presentations, we have been encouraged to reflect about who ,we are as a community, who we have been--and who we will be. Since I have been researching relationship between religious congregations and their sponsored ministries, these events have spurred me to reflect on what it has meant--and what it will mean--that we are an apostolic congregation. I have, however, found it unexpectedly difficult to do this. How does our charism differ from that of an active monastic or evangelical order? In what way do our apostolates define who we are as a community, especially since very few of us still minister in the schools and hospitals we traditionally staffed? These are important questions to ask--and to continue asking--as we rearticulate our apostolic identity for the coming century. But I ,have come to believe that we lack an importfint kind of resource person who could facilitate our reflections. To the best Patricia Wittberg SC last wrote for us in September-October 2000. Her address is 2141 Dugan Drive; Indianapolis, Indiana 46260. Review for Religious of my knowledge, no religious congregation makes provision for such a person in its reflection processes. There is not even a name for her, so I will call her--however awkwardly--an Apostolic-Identity Catalyzer, or AIC for short2 In this paper I will first attempt to oudine the role apostolic institutions had in shaping the identity of religious congregations in the past. Next I will describe the kinds of activities an AIC might undertake to catalyze a congregation's reformulation of its apostolic identity in the absence of these institutions. Who We Were: Shaping a Reciprocal Identity Throughout their history, apostolic religious congregations have developed in an intimate dialectic with the institutions they created, staffed, and administered. On the one hand, Catholic hospitals, schools, and social-work agencies derived their religious identity primarily from the presence of religious congregations. Religious nurses, teachers, and social workers, all fully habited, served as living icons of the spiritual character of these institutions. As owners they also made the key decisions and policies. Their presence on the staff and in the administration meant that the culture of the congregation infused the entire institution. Without pointing to the congregation's presence, it would have been hard for a school or hospital to articulate what made it Catholic. Until the mid 1960s, however, the two were so intertwined that the question never even arose. In a similar manner, religious congregations derived their apostolic identity from the institutions they staffed. As Margaret Susan Thompson has pointed out in a previous issue of this journal,2 most U.S. women's apostolic congregations did not have a distinctive initial charism: rather, they have a "deep story" developed through years of lived experience. The distinctive identity of my own congregation was forged as sisters worked and lived together in our hospitals in Dayton and Albuquerque, Religious congregations derived their apostolic identity from the institutions they staffed. Wittber~ ¯ Reci~n'ocal Identities as they made bulletin boards together for our elementary schools in Detroit and Chicago, and as they cared for children in inner-city settlement houses and orphanages in Denver and Cincinnati. Young women got to know us through our ministries, and those attracted by our witness in these apostolates joined us. The congregation filled with new entrants who came expecting to perform institutional service, which further tied our apostolic identity to these works. Without citing the particular places where we served, it would have been difficult for many of us to articulate exactly what being an "apostolic" community meant. A Parallel: Mission-Effectiveness Offices in Catholic Institutions Most religious communities today have loosened, and some have completely severed, their ties with their institutions. Within their hospitals, colleges, and other agencies, this has led to some serious institutional soul-searching. Bereft of the iconic presence of the religious order, these institutions were in danger of losing their distinctive religious character. "Isomorphic" pressures from government regulations, professional associations, and economic competitors threatened to make them indistinguishable from other private schools or hospitals) The leaders of these organizations realized that retaining a distinct religious identity in the face of such pressures would require a deliberate effort. An institutional religious identity could not simply depend on the private spirituality the individual workers might bring to their jobs. Such spirituality was likely to remain private to each individual, since there are strong American cultural norms against sharing one's spirituality in the workplace. A school's, a hospital's, or a social agency's institutional religious identity had to be developed and shared in a way that would be transformative: grounding the daily operations of each department, underlying the administrative decisions, and spurring an ongoing, institution-wide search for new and creative ways to be a Catholic (or Jesuit or Vincentian) organization. Many religious hospitals, colleges, and other institutions, therefore, created special mission-effectiveness positions to address these goals. The person filling this role--often the last remaining member of the sponsoring congregation still in full- Review for Religious time ministry there--has typically been responsible for activities such as the following: ¯ orienting new staff and administrators to the charism or ethos of the sponsoring religious community (Jesuit scholarship, Vincentian caring, the spirit of Mercy); ¯ organizing periodic retreats and seminars for long-standing staff and administrators, in order to keep the spirit of the founding congregation fresh and alive; ¯ conducting various spiritual "leaven" activities: leading daily prayers over the public address system, organizing liturgies, providing short reflective prayers before meetings, disseminating newsletters or daily bulletins, erecting and maintaining religious iconography, and so forth; ¯ creating psychic and physical spaces where staff and administrators feel encouraged to share their spiritual journeys; ¯ estab-lishing awards for staff and administrators who most typify the founding spirit, and publicizing the winners of these awards; ¯ writing, updating, and promulgating the mission statement; ¯ raising ~ssues of mission and ethics at meetings of the board of trustees and other instances when key decisions are made; ¯ acting .as liaison with the sponsoring congregation, to help define what the implications of congregational sponsorship are for the institunon; ¯ serving as the religious-identity spokesperson to the media, overseeing public relations activities connected to the institution's religious identity. This is the ideal, of course. Many mission-effectiveness directors are marginalized, lacking any real input into the organization's decision making. A recent study found that "even in colleges that maintain the vice-presidential rank for the mission-effectiveness officer, there is no guarantee that the position will enjoy institutional prominence . Frequently the position operates on the .periphery of the college, resulting in compartmentalization rather than integration of mission concerns into daily senior-level academic or administrative decision making.''4 Mission statements may be mere words, Many mission-effectiveness directors are marginalized, lacking any real input into the organization's decision making. July-August 2002 PVi~tberg * Reciprocal Identities uncoupled from and alongside the day-to-day running of the institution. But at least the concept of mission effectiveness exists in our institutions, and we can readily articulate the kinds of activities such a position would involve. Apostolic-Identity Catalyzer: An Unknown (but Necessary) Role The same is not true for the position which I have termed the Apostolic-Identity Catalyzer. In fact, the apostolic congregations I know of do not have such a person. But, if mission-effectiveness offices are important for maintaining the religious identity of a school or hospital in the absence of its founding religious congregation, an apostolic-identity office should be equally important in helping maintain the apostolic identity of a religious congregation that is uncoupled from its institutions. In this section I will try to explain why I believe this to be so. When apostolic religious congregations withdrew from their institutions, they lost a key component of their former identity. Monastic and evangelical congregations, which had been inappropriately conformed to the apostolic model in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, could--and often did--simply revert to their original identities. But, to the extent that apostolic congregations had drawn their identity from their specific institutional works, they have had to devise a new articulation of who they are as a group and why they exist. "Isomorphic" pressures have also influenced this process. These pressures do not come from government regulations, professional standards, or economic pressures dictating what kind of identity an apostolic congregation should assume. Rather, they come from the ideals or "templates" current in the church and in society, which presume a primarily spiritual basis for the identity of religious groups. These spiritual foci commonly fill the void left by the loss of a congregation's institutional apostolate. Some apostolic communities have thus become more like small Christian communities, faith-sharing groups, or even parishes. The members minister in various locations and professions, pray privately every day, and meet regularly as a group for shared prayer and/or socializing: Other congregations Review for Religious have formed intentional communities that more closely approximate the monastic model: the members live and pray communally, but leave for separate ministries during the day. In either case, the conKregation begins to draw its identity more and more from the common spiritual activities of its members, and less and less from any common apostolic character. New entrants are attracted by the spirituality of the congregation, not by its distinctive common apostolates --which no longer exist. The metamorphosis continues. If apostolic religious life is to retain its distinctive identity, apostolic congregations must take deliberate steps to foster it. As with the religious identity of our former institutions, this will not happen automatically. Nor can we assume that our congregation is apostolic simply because we, as individual religious, give witness to God's love in our individual apostolates. (Surely all Christians are called to do that!) A congregation's apostolic identity must be transformative of the entire congregation, grounding the daily operations within the motherhouse, provincialates, and local houses, und.erlying the decisions of the council or leadership team, and spurring the community on its search for new and creative ways to be an apostolic congregation. This is where an apostolic-identity office would be useful. Since I know of no congregation that provides for such a role, the following list of suggested tasks is deliberately modeled on the activities which mission-effectiveness offices perform in our sponsored institutions. Within a given congregation, therefore, the AIC might be responsible for some or all of the following tasks: ¯ Orienting new members to the apostolic tradition of the congregation, as part of the formation program. This might include workshops or presentations, along with arranging visits to the former institutions and interviews with retired sisters who used to work there. ¯ Organizing periodic retreats and seminars for the professed and associate members of the congregation on the way(s) the congregation currently expresses its apostolic identity. This might include facilitating volunteer opportunities (whether single days throughout the year or six-week summer experiences) at some sites. Or theologians might be invited to community gatherings to discuss the various theologies of the interaction July-Augt*st 2002 Wittberg * Reciprocal Identities between spirituality and the apostolate. Or the clients served may be invited to give input on how they see the apostolic witness of the congregation and how it can be improved. ¯ Conducting various apostolic "leaven" activities within the congregation: circulating specially written prayers for specific apostolates and/or designating specific days of prayer for them; writing feature articles on the apostolates in the congregation's newsletter and/or disseminating a special newsletter on the apostolates; organizing the collection of money and goods; erecting and maintaining displays of apostolic artifacts at the motherhouse and elsewhere; initiating letter-writing campaigns to elected officials on apostolic issues; and so forth. ¯ Creating psychic and physical spaces where members are encouraged to share the insights, joys, and sorrows they have derived from their apostolates. The Daughters of Charity, with whom I currendy live, have a special monthly apostolic reflection wherein each member of the local house shares some incident from her ministry through which God has spoken to her that day. In a local house of another congregation where I once lived, we spent an afternoon and evening visiting each sister's work-place so that we could have a mental picture of the setting in which she spent a good part of her day. ¯ Establishing awards or other forms of recognition for individual members whose apostolic works witness to the character of the congregation, and publicizing these awards in the congregation and in the surrounding neighborhood or town or city. ¯ Leading reflections and other activities on the apostolic aspects of the congregation's mission statement (or facilitating the composition of such a statement if one does not currently exist). ¯ Raising issues of the congregation's apostolic identity at council meetings (which implies that the AIC is a member of the council). ¯ Initiating a congregational reflection to define exactly what the "sponsor" relationship requires of the congregation. As at least one critic has pointed out, the duties and obligations of sponsorship are often specified for the sponsored institution, but rarely are similar duties and obligations spelled out for the sponsoring congregation,s The MC might encourage meetings of both the leadership and the membership to outline the responsibilities the congregation has toward its institutions. Once these are determined, the AIC might be the one to see that they are met. Review for Religious ¯ Serving as a liaison with the various sponsored ministries. If the congregation has a separate board of sponsored ministries, then the AIC should be a member of it (and perhaps chair it). ¯ Serving as the apostolic-identity spokespdrson for the congregation to the media, overseeing public-relations activities connected with the congregation's apostolic identity. Again, this is an idealized picture. As with the mission-effectiveness offices in our former institutions, the activities of the apostolic-identity office may be marginalized in a given religious community. Many religious are so heavily involved in their ministries that they may resist invitations to set aside time to do this kind of communal apostolic sharing. Others may wish to forget about their jobs--especially if they find them draining and exhausting--and focus on more spiritual and recreational matters during the congregation's brief time together. Still others, formed in the days of common ministry within large institutions, may not - feel the need to discuss how apostolate is related to religious life today. And, since an apostolic-identity office is such a novel concept, many may not see why one is needed at all. Surely our congregation is already top-heavy with leadership? Why do we need to release another member from active ministry to do this? Perhaps the demise of the apostolic form of religious life is inevitable. Large hospitals, colleges, and other institutions may have become so bureaucratized and professionalized that they can no longer credibly represent a corporate Catholic vision of education, healthcare, or social service (although, of course, individual teachers or nurses--lay and religious--may still bring their private spiritualities to their jobs in these institutions). Fast-paced American culture, steeped in workaholism, may make it difficult to stop and be reflective about the work we do. There Many religious are so heavily involved in their ministries that they may resist invitations to set aside time to do this kind of communal apostolic sharing. Ju~-dugu¢ 2002 Wittberg * Reciprocal Identities may be a greater need for religious life forms focused on community and spirituality than on work--especially work in large institutions. Certainly monastic and contemplative religious communities are showing stronger growth than most apostolic ones.6 Religious life may thrive in monastic, evangelical, or future undreamed-of forms, even if its apostolic version becomes extinct. Perhaps an AIC would be a useless relic of a time already past. Or perhaps not. Perhaps what the world most needs is the witness of a group whose common vision for a transformative spiritual identity permeates the offices, factories, and marketplaces where its members work. Perhaps the reciprocal dialectic of religious community and sponsored ministry, each forming and transforming the other, is a longed-for alternative to the prevailing, "Enronized" corporate culture. Perhaps apostolic religious congregations possess the seed of a new corporate ministerial presence in the world, over and above the scattered individual ministries of their members. If so, then this vision, this dialectic, this presence, must be fostered and nurtured to growth. An AIC would have her job cut out for her. Notes i This is a terribly unattractive name, of course, but I am unable to think of any other. If this article persuades any congregation to establish the office of apostolic-identity catalyzer, they might consider naming it after a founding member who exemplified the apostolic dedication the congregation wishes to foster. 2 Margaret Susan Thompson, "Charism or Deep Story? Towards Understanding Better the 19th-Century Origins of American Women's Congregations," Review for Religious 58, no. 3 (May-June, 1999): 230-250. 3 According to sociologists studying organizations, "isomorphism" refers to the many pressures, both external and internal, which lead them to adopt similar practices. External pressures would include government regulations, professional accreditation standards, and the demands of customers/clients. Internal pressures would include ways of thinking that administrators develop from all of them being trained in the same schools, clinging to established practices in times of uncertainty, and needing to project an image of competence. See Walter W. Powell and Paul J. DiMaggio, eds., The New Institutionalfim in Organizational Analysis (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991). 4 Dennis H. Holtschneider CM and Melanie M. Morey, "Relationship Review for Religious Revisited: Changing Relations between U.S. Catholic Colleges and Universities and Founding Religious Congregations," Occasional Paper No. 47, Association of Governing Boards of Universities and Colleges. s Melanie M. Morey, Leadership and Legacy: ls There a Future for the Past? A Study of Eight Colleges Founded by Catholic VVomen's Religious Congregations, dissertation, School of Education, Harvard University, 1995, p. 203. 6 "Monasteries Enjoy Boom, with Some Help from Marketing," Religion Watch 17, no. 6 (April 2002): 2-3. Promissory In early March buds begin to swell on my peach tree. It is too soon. This uncertain month delivers snow and fro~t with its warm, sweet winds. But there they are, small, swelling promises of succulent fruit, nature's resurrective fiat silently shouting down my wintery worry with summer's certainty. Bonnie Thurston July-Aug~tst 2002 GEORGE ASCHENBRENNER Diocesan Priesthood: Discerning the Fire in Our Midst spirituality These are not easy days for the diocesan priesthood. Sexually inappropriate behavior has been making rousing--and saddening--copy in newspapers and magazines. This behavior can be, must be, viewed from a number of different perspectives. I mention just a few: the horrendous injustice and injury done to the victims; the sickness, often, of the perpetrator himself; the lack of honest dealing with sexual urges; the unjust accusation of some priests; the betrayal and undermining of the trust of many members of the church; and the faithful, generous service of many unheralded diocesan priests. I do not deny the seriousness of the present situation, nor am I insensitive to the many serious repercussions of the publicity. We all have much to learn from this difficult time for the diocesan priesthood. Seminary formation programs--indeed each individual priest--must honestly and carefully look at both sexual orientation and the swirling interior cauldron of sexual impulse, fantasy, and urge. Sexuality George Aschenbrenner SJ was cofounder of the Institute for Priestly Fbrmation at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska, and.is director of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth; P.O. Box 223; Wernersville, Pennsylvania 19565. Review for Religious is only one aspect, but always an important one, of the discerning presence 6f the diocesan priest in the midst of a local people. This article is not about the sexual aspect of discernment, but implications for that area of human experience will be easily recognized. I focus on a central constituent of diocesan priesthood, namely, the priest's discerning presence in the midst of a local people. (In a recent book I develop this and other charisms that are needed in diocesan priesthood.)! The desires and needs of his people seek, from the diocesan priest, discernment, the art of holiness, but these desires and needs may not be easily detected. Holiness, in itself, does not seem something most people are daily concerned with. But reflection may suggest otherwise. Though often thought of or spoken of in other words and with a deceptive indirectness, the longing of the human heart for more--for something beyond what we have and appreciate, beyond our present knowing--stirs in all of us from time to time, especially in quiet moments. If we sometimes find this longing in ourselves, we must assume it in others as well. And, when the glow has faded from life and still we cannot say or put into words what we are missing, we and others may recognize that this longing for more is really a desire for an ever greater goodness, for holiness, in fact a desire for God. The ordinary people of a parish feel this in many ways, but may seldom try to express it. They desire holiness, a relationship that gets them out of the narrow confines of their own self. They seek greater meaning, more happiness, and greater love in the humdrum of ordinary living. Other people in the parish are more explicit and direct. They want to pray better; they want to know God's love more; they want their faith to be more alive. Though some may have a counselor or friend with whom they speak of these concerns, the principal person to whom people bring such stirrings and longings is their diocesan priest. They look to him for help, for answers, for the solution to their dissatisfaction. But what can the priest do? What answers does he have? He is presumed to have the graced art of daily growth in holiness. This is precisely what we mean by discernment of spirits. It is a very human process, God's subtle inspiration enlightening us to interpret, make sense of, the fire of God's awesome love present in the ordinary daily experience of us all. In various ways the human psyche is always encountering our Ascbenlrrenner * Diocesan Priestbood loving God. And these experiences are indeed profoundly human, and yet so much more. In faith they are experiences of a love promising a joy that alone can satisfy our longings, to some real extent here and now, but fully only on the other side of death. This discerning art of holiness is not a catalogue of answers to be learned and then distributed on request. Rather, it is a life to be lived in the uniquely personal part of our hearts, and yet with extroverting implication for all our human brothers and sisters and for our union with them in the transformation of our whole expanding universe. This article, then, is not a minicourse on discernment, nor is it a review of the answers a priest will need for all the people's questions. Rather, I want to present something of what is involved in a priest's discerning understanding, in his radiating the fire of the Holy Spirit for the people of his parish. I will describe four steps that are part of a discerning life and then three dimensions of the human stage on which the drama of a personal love-relationship with God is played. As a spiritual leader in the midst of the parish, the priest must have a reflective understanding of the art of discernment, seen as the dynamics of any mature faith life. This charism prepares the priest to play two important roles of service among the people: as a guide into the mystery of God's fire of love and as a soul doctor for those being healed and purified in that same fire. Discernment: God's Story of Mature Faith Growth Holiness and growth in union with God always involve the full human person alive in his or her concrete circumstances. A person's spiritual maturity, then, involves good actions, but also much more. It involves feeling and emotion, but also much more. Together with concern for actions and feelings, spiritual maturity must go down into a person's inner core. It is from this core that God's love should radiate into holy action and feeling so that people can readily become aware of God's love in the world. This radiation is an invitation to notice and welcome God's love in every situation. Discernment of spirits means achieving such recognition. Sometimes discernment is mistakenly seen as one of any number of approaches to mature spiritual development. Indeed, Review for Religious some schools of faith growth have their own terminology. Under these different articulations, however, is one fundamental process of growth toward mature faith, a sorting of inner experiences. For this reason, discernment of spirits is the story of personal faith growth, God's story of it. This process has two roots: our human reality within God's creation and God's revelation in Jesus. Discernment of spirits is God's story of us, narrated both in our makeup as human creatures and in God's love for us all in Jesus. If only this love shone clearly, brilliantly, beautifully in every situation! At times it does, of course, but at other times the radiance of this love is stained by smog or hidden by a heavy cloud of evil. If all were goodness, grace, and beauty, how wonderful--and surely no need for any careful sorting in such a good world. Or, if all were evil, darkness, and wickedness, we would live on the brink of despair--but, again, no need for any sorting or sifting. But, when the world of human beings is ambiguous and mixed, and still we are c~lled to find the goodness in it and to display it in ourselves in our daily lives, then a discernment of spirits within ourselves assumes an essential importance. We must learn to distinguish our selfish impulses from the radiant inspirations of the Holy Spirit of God. Most people have not developed the skills for expert discerning of spirits, but, if they do no discerning at all, mature faith eludes them. The priest, then, the spiritual leader and soul doctor in the parochial community, must do the hard work of learning the theory and practice of soul doctoring, of discerning holiness. In the midst of such careful inner sorting, we must never forget this: God desires and is committed to each of us in Jesus more than we can fully realize--and the Holy Spirit is constandy active in our hearts and our world. Christian holiness always has its initiative in the fire of God's loving desires for us. It is never a figment of our imagination or a product of our willpower. It is the mystery of God's precious gift for us all. But each of us must The priest must have a reflective understanding of the art of discernment, seen as the dynamics of any mature faith life. 3~uly-du~lst 2002 Aschenbrenn~ * Diocesan Priesthood learn to recognize, receive, and nurture the gift. And we need a guide to lead us, in some special ways, into the fire, into the radiant glow of that mystery: God's love burning bright in Jesus. The Material of Discernment God wants each of us to imitate.Jesus uniquely. The great challenge and invitation that haunts us all is to discover our true self in Christ. For each of us God intends a unique revelation of Christ. Though the enterprise has very complex aspects, the point is as simple as it is startling: God wants each of us to imitate Jesus uniquely. The very self that God intends each of us to be is a unique, living imitation of Jesus. And that life of ours is meant to shine for all the world. This true self, this unique revelation, this treasure is camouflaged in the spontaneous interiority of our daily consciousness. This pearl of great price, this treasure beyond all value, must be searched for and recognized when stumbled upon. Into the daily spontaneous consciousness of the priest and of his people come many images, feelings, thoughts, impulses, and moods, sometimes quietly, some-times shockingly. This inner world has a variety of seasons, bright hopeful springs and dark threatening winters. We might wish we could glimpse our true self in Christ conveniently and directly, avoiding tentative efforts to interpret these various elements in ourselves like the weather. But we do not even have anything like a satellite picture of our ow~ inner world. God takes the complexity of our human condition seriously, and so Jesus usually comes to us at the place where our own consciousness tangles with today's large or small historical realities. To try to avoid this encounter would be to deprive ourselves--and other people, too--of our unique opportunity to reveal Jesus Christ as God intends, that is, in daily circumstances that without our presence may lack the glow and radiance of fire. Whenever one person avoids these opportunities, the radiance of us all is somehow dimmed. The diocesan priest, doctor of souls that he is called to be, must not fail to uncover the treasure in these moments; others, seeing it, will carry the glow far beyond him. Revie~ for Religiou~ This discerning search for the treasure of our true self can be described in four steps, steps easier to describe than to apply to real circumstances. My intention is to describe the steps so that the priest can learn to recognize them in his own experience and then make them his own. This discerning process can then help the priest, the soul doctor, to guide people in discovering and welcoming the mystery of God's love in their own hearts and lives. Turned toward God This first step is most important and profound: an identity in Jesus Christ. Until this identity has been cultivated enough, serious discernment is not possible. A serious turning to God readies the heart for discernment and so initiates any trustworthy searching for the treasure of God's personal, uniquely specific love. This turning is a real change that grades the ground of our heart to a new incline: away from ourselves and toward God. It is more than a passing fancy or a momentary quirk. The realization that we are conceived, marked, and shaped from the dawn of our existence by a God who always and only loves, this realization takes root and changes the landscape of our daily lives. This realization of a Love greater than the love we have for ourselves stops us in our tracks. It invites an about-face. It gets us out of ourselves. A whole new vista opens up. We have discovered and been turned toward Someone more beloved than we are to ourselves. Is this Love for real? Can this Beloved be trusted? What are we to make of all this, of these subtle perceptions. As we pay closer attention to them, the realization can come that receiving and responding to such Love assumes an importance beyond all else. The ground under our feet shakes and radically shifts. At this juncture, there is a clarity; something has clearly changed. A central question has been posing itself in our heart for a long time: Am I the ultimate meaning of my own life? As we heard that question, the winds of our contemporary culture kept howling their answer: "Yes, of course! Of course I am the ultimate meaning 'of my own life! If not I, who else could be?" But now that yes is radically shaken and splinters into a clear no. The tree of my life is changed. I am no longer the ultimate July-Augwst 2002 Ascbenlrrenner ¯ Diocesan Priesthood meaning of my own life. Now my life's meaning is God's Love-- as promised and present in the risen Jesus. A new sun has risen, and it will never set. Now life becomes, more and more, fascination with this mysterious Beloved and radical openness and readiness for whatever that Love draws me to. Something has deepened and developed. An early seedling of religious intuition has become the fragile sprouting of a realization that by being tested becomes stronger and more deeply rooted. An early surmise and semiconscious intuition becomes a resolute desire of will. No tall grass shivering in the wind, but a tree, deeply rooted and still growing. This resolute desire shapes and casts our lives in love: first, God's ever faithful love in the risen Jesus and then our own love, our carefully discerned response of love. From now on, life is about love, at times tough love, but love nonetheless, and always. Make no mistake about that! In some important way, we are no longer in charge of our own lives. God is! Life is not yes to self, but yes to God, as shown in Jesus ("with him it was always yes," 2 Co 1:19). Facing Our Spontaneous Life Insofar as the countercultural movement to God's love has begun to take serious rooting in our heart, a second step beckons. Only honest facing of our inner spontaneous life makes it possible for us to find, in faith, trustworthy understandings about God. This statement is true, but it prescinds from the ingenuity of human consciousness for dishonest avoidance and selfish projection. We must learn, as best we can, to stand clear of these deceits and deceptions, whether conscious or unconscious, if we are to discern God's loving desire in our hearts. This is no easy matter, and invites the priest to an asceticism leading to truth and love. Sometimes this asceticism, always motivated by a growing desire to live in God's consoling love, will involve unlearning some previous training. An overly rationalistic view of Christian spirituality downplays, even scorns, the role of spontaneity and feeling, while on the other hand a supersensitivity to feeling and sentiment can smuggle into Christian spirituality a presumption that proclaims, sometimes quite unwittingly, that whatever we feel is God's will for us. In both of these instances, a previous Review for Religious learning must be honestly acknowledged, judged as incorrect, and gradually changed. As difficult as this change may seem, especially when the previously learned viewpoint has taken deep root, such a conversion is always possible for two reasons: first and foremost, the mystery of God's steadfast desire to get through to us and, second, our own soul's desire for ever greater radiance. If the priest stays in close touch with these two desires, he will be capable of whatever transformation is necessary because it will really be the work of the radiant Holy Spirit of God beckoning him beyond his own depth and into the realm of greater mystery in faith. A Wisdom of Interpretation in Faith In the process of the discernment I am describing here, for someone clearly turned toward God and honestly sensitive to the flow of inner spontaneity, the issue becomes a matter of meaning: Where is God in all of this? The answer requires a certain wisdom and ability to interpret. But interpretation could spring from any number of different vantage points, for example, from lived common sense, from majority cultural opinion, from professional human development, or from Christian faith. All of these different "wisdoms" might overlap to a small or large extent, but each would produce a different conclusion when used as the central focus of interpretation. In discernment the focus is profoundly one of Christian faith, a faith radiating with the experience of Jesus Christ and revealed in the Holy Spirit. How God is present here, now, offering a love beyond all loves--that is the central concern for a person turned toward and identified in God. As we have seen already, God is always present in all of our present historical world and in all of our spontaneous inner experience, but never simply and completely present to us. That treasure of a love beyond all value, that revelation of our own unique imitation of Jesus, must be sought in the mixture and confusion of our inner lives. An enlightenment of the Holy Spirit springing from our experience of God's faithful love alone--that is the gift needed at this point. Such enlightenment and wisdom differ subtly, though sharply, from enthusiastic generosity and simplistic sincerity. By themselves, without graced wisdom, these two qualities lack a North Star and can be dangerously ~Tuly-Au~st 2002 Aschenbrenner * Diocesan Priesthood misleading. The wisdom referred to here has a profound paschal orientation and is found more and more decisively present and operative in Jesus as he moves into the depths of his Passion all the way to Calvary and into his resurrected glory. This wisdom and enlightenment is hot the result of taking an academic course or reading a book. And it is not some sleight of hand or guesswork either. It is a grace the priest must pray for regularly. It has a firm context, and this helps the priest to be sure about the giftedness of his insight. The insight is tested in relation to the polestar of our identity in God's love. The. presence of the Holy Spirit is revealed in anything that conforms to our resolute desire to keep God's love, not self-love, as our focus. And anything that violates this focus is not an inspiration from God, but a nudge, large or small, toward self-idolatry. A pleasure-pain instinct in all of us tries to tilt us toward self-idolatry. This instinct of liking pleasure and fearing pain is understandable and healthy. But, when we let it assume a priority and centrality, when it becomes the focal light for our interpretation, then we become narcissistic. This pleasure-pain principle, in itself, is never fully identified with the paschal enlightenment of God's love. It was not so identified in the experience of Jesus. The pleasure-pain instinct did not plot his course to his beloved Father. Escaping 'the dominance of this instinct demands an asceticism. We are not to renounce this instinct pure and simple; rather, we renounce it as the polestar of our identity. Developing in faith our interpersonal relationship of love with God in the beauty of Jesus will not completely get rid of this instinct, but will weaken it. God's love ~n Jesus has become the treasure beyond all value, and what a grace it is to know indescribable pain when deprived of that treasure. To learn how to stand with Jesus, sometimes in pleasure and at other times in pain--this is the mature wisdom of a person consciously living in God's love. It is to claim the treasure intended by God before the foundation of the world: a radiant true self uniquely imitating the mystery of Jesus. Tactics for Intimacy with God The final step in this process is decisive tactics in accord with the paschal-faith interpretation of the previous step. For Review for Religious someone whose heart is resolutely set on following the lead of God's love, anything experienced as an incarnation of that love (often called consolation) is to be embraced, claimed, and lived, and anything that deflects us from God's love and toward self-idolatry (usually called desolation) is to be rejected and courageously withstood. In this step the issue is courage and decisive generosity, something possible only when illumined and strengthened by paschal wisdom. The issue is whether we will follow, and how wholeheartedly, the revelation of the Holy Spirit. This is the time for the soul's character to be healed and for faith to be annealed in the fire of the Holy Spirit. This process helps the hidden self grow strong, so that the priest can be a discerning presence in the midst of the people. Discernment, a life of mature spirituality, always acknowledges, distinguishes, and then interrelates three different dimensions of human existence: external behavior, what I call the core of the soul, and inner spontaneity. To develop and live out of the core of our true self is never easy, if possible at all in our post-modern world, but is always crucial for responsible, mature living in faith. Today's culture has great need of doctors of the soul who can facilitate the development of this core sense of true self through the integration of these three dimensions of human existence. Though our external behavior is perceptible and often consumes enormous energy, it is nothing more than a superficial part of our being. The activity on this stage poses a question of meaning, a question that it cannot itself answer even though it may seem to contain adequate answers for others and even ourselves. In our daily activity we touch and influence many people. As the New Testament reminds us, the activity of sincere loving reveals the genuineness of our faith. In the midst of our busy lives, the question often rises in our hearts: Are we simply what we do? Some careful reflection is needed to answer correctly and accurately. The question often rises in our hearts: Are we simply what we do? 2002 .~chenbrenner ¯ Diocesan Prie~thood A Hidden Self Grown Strong The soul's core is the unique and deepest part of every human person. This core plays a crucial role in the discovery of our true self in the beauty of Christ. A deep-hearted personal world, a treasure beyond value, is gradually revealed, acknowledged, and then laid claim to, though this whole process is much more one of receiving than of making. This inner core has a depth and a simplicity that is beyond words. As we grow in our appreciation of this personal center, its presence dawns, alluringly shrouded in mist and mystery. In the shifting mists of this mysterious realm, a noisy world is hushed. God breathes eternal love and life into this core of our soul moment by moment and on into eternity. This same creative love, unique to each of us, is in all of us. Our experience of God and of ourselves becomes ever more profound, personal, and unique. Even as you now read, this profoundly personal inner experience, this quiet steady conversation of love at our deepest core, gives the lie to feelings of suffocating loneliness. It gives the lie to the hateful notion that anybody is rotten to the core. Because of Jesus' love, a buried treasure, a pearl beyond pricing, a hidden self waits to be discovered in each human being, to be embraced, and to grow strong. Spontaneity takes place in the "skin" of our soul, in the rational and affective human experience of us all. As mentioned earlier, this experience of spontaneity conceals the deep treasure of our true self in Christ. These spontaneities of thinking and feeling may skitter across the skin of our souls, but do not touch the core. Spontaneities of impulse, image, and mood can flail and crackle and roar across our lives like an electrical storm. Such skitterings, such storms, coming and going, can bother or frustrate or enrage us. But they do, finally, pass. This level, spontaneous unintended experience, has the unpredictability of shifting sands and is not capable of the rock-like dependability of the core of the soul. This skin of the soul poses its own question: Are we simply and wholly identified by what we spontaneously think or feel? Though "what I feel" is never equal to "who I am," in the midst of a temporary storm we can all too easily judge otherwise. These spontaneities, though, really are on a different level. They are part of a process of integration, of coming to spiritual Review for Religious maturity, but they have their meaning only in relation to the soul's core. The presen.ce of these three dimensions of our persons and the four-step discernment process for integrating them should be familiar to the priest. Such integration is the way to mature faith and to appropriate activity that mature faith leads to. This integration is sometimes easy and obvious, sometimes confusing and excruciating. But doing it in love, doing it in our own unique imitation of Jesus' way of loving us, makes it possible, encouraging and strengthening us. This is the realm of service for a doctor of the soul. If the seminary communicates this and if it continues long after ordination, the result of this integration, this purification, will be like gold, bright and not sadly tarnished. To his service of their souls, the priest will bring a radiance that can illumine and develop the bright potential of their own lives. This radiance will be God's love shining from the face of the risen Jesus, still serving in our midst. Notes I George Aschenbrenner SJ, Quickening the Fire in Our Midst: The Challenge of Diocesan Priestly Spirituality (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2002). 2 See George Aschenbrenner SJ, "A Hidden Self Grown Strong," in Handbook of Spirituality for Ministers, ed. Robert J. Wicks (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1995), pp. 228-248. "Hidden Self," pp. 236-240. In the Words of Meister Eckhart The soul loves the body tenderly, even when, like a child on edge, it runs rambunctious through desire collapsing at last and won&ring why. Maryanne Hannan ~Tuly-dugv~st 2002 ERNEST E. LARKIN Desert Spirituality Booth Christian Meditation and centering prayer come out f early monasticism, which itself is a development of desert spirituality? Christian Meditation is the prayer of the heart described by John Cassian, the historian of desert spiri-tuality, who brought the wisdom of the desert fathers and moth-ers of Egypt and the Middle East to the West. Centering prayer comes out of the Cloud of Unknowing, a 14th-century English text that enshrines the contemplative traditions of the desert. It is no accident that both these contemplative prayer forms came to us by way of Benedictine and Trappist monasteries. Desert spirituality was the beginning of Christian monasti-cism and the matrix out of which Western monks developed their lifestyle. Contemplative prayer was at the heart of their life, and desert spirituality was the context. This article proposes to examine those ancient traditions and adapt them to our times. Desert spirituality is a technical term that has biblical and early Christian roots. The desert experience is a staple of both the Old and the New Testaments, for example, in the Exodus story, in the life of Elijah and the prophecy of Hosea, in John the Baptist, the forty-day fast of Jesus, and the three-year novitiate of Paul in Arabia (Ga 1:17). This desert experience was devel-oped into a coherent spirituality by the desert fathers and moth- Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote for us twice in 2001. His address remains Kino Institute; 1224 East Northern; Phoenix, Arizona 85020. Review for Religious ers in the 3rd and 4th centuries of the Christian era. These fer-vent Christians fled to Egypt and the Middle East to escape the decadence of an effete Roman empire. The wastelands offered a stark and untrammeled setting for a life of penance and prayer. Its rugged emptiness and its silence and solitude invited the flight from the world OCuga mundi). A special appeal to heroic souls was the belief that the demons infested the wastelands and could be met there in open combat. It did not take long for the desert dweller to discover that the demons were within and to be engaged on the battleground of the soul. Life in the desert was simple. Manual labor broke the monotony of the silence and solitude of the cell and provided .its own asceticism as well as sustenance and something for almsgiving. Desert dwellers spent their days in soul searching and the pursuit of the living God. Community life, especially when the solitary life prevailed, and outreach in ministry were clearly sec-ondary and not really part of the inte-rior struggle. Continuous prayer was the focus, and the abbas and the ammas spent their time in lectio div-ina, reading the psalms and the breviary, celebrating liturgy, and cultivating the prayer of the heart. These are the main fea-tures of desert spirituality. In this setting Christian holiness was a kind of white mar-tyrdom, a total giving over of one's life to God, the shedding of all self-indulgence in favor of a single-minded search for God. The desert was a graphic symbol of the emptiness of life and the otherness of God. The emptiness translated into purity of heart, a heart freed from sinful affections and centered on God. Thus the beatitude that best sums up desert spirituality is "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God." Contemplation is the goal, and letting go of all lesser aims and surrender to the living God the condition. This general principle is abstract and can be lived out in an imaginary as well as a real desert. The desert as symbol universalizes desert spirituality as a possibility for everyone. There is, however, still place for the physical desert in ordinary Christian life. We examine this role The desert as symbol universalizes desert spirituality as a possibility for everyone. ]My-August 2002 Larkin ¯ Desert Spirituality in the next two sections of this paper, and we will return to the symbolic desert in the third section. Our first question is this: What can the desert do for me? In other words, why should I go out into the desert? The second question is a prophetic one: What can I do for a desert that is now under attack by the forces of neglect or consumerism? How do my efforts to protect the environment or my failure to participate affect my personal life? After these two reflections we will return to the overall princi-ple of desert spiritfiality, the call to emptiness and encounter with God. What Can the Desert Do for Me? In Scripture the desert is primarily the wasteland, and it leads to the garden of the promised land, the desert come to life, as in Isaiah 35:1-2: "The desert shall rejoice and blossom . The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon." Both the bleak image and the flowering one apply to the physical desert as we use the term today. The desert means the wilderness, the great outdoors. This includes barren wastelands like sand dunes or the scrubby flatlands of Texas or Arizona, but also verdant gardens, scenic forests, majestic moun-tains, and rolling plains. The desert is all the places on this beautiful earth that are still largely untouched by city sprawl and offer themselves as a refuge for weary people. These lands can be gift for our spirits. They refresh us and challenge us. They beckon us to "come aside and rest awhile," away from the noise and congestion of the city with its polluted air and harried traffic. The desert is the place to hike a trail, fish a stream, pic-nic with friends, or just smell the sage and be with one's long thoughts. " Except for some few families that have declared their inde-pendence and homesteaded in the wild and some rare hermits who have also settled there, people today only visit this desert; they do not dwell there. They go out for physical exercise and emotional refreshment, for meditation and for fun. They enter desert places hostile to human habitation very gingerly, armed with water jugs, proper sun gear, and ideally with companions. Some visit these "fierce landscapes" (Belden Lane) for excite-ment, others to deal with a crisis, a limit experience, a sorrow Review for Religious that overwhelms them. Perhaps unconsciously they are looking for an environment that mirrors their troubled soul. A good example of this kind of match between soul and terrain is a retreat for middle-aged men described in a recent publication.2 It was conducted by Richard Rohr and designed to help men from many walks of life through their midlife crisis. The retreat took place at Ghost Ranch in northern New Mexico in the sum-mer of A.D. 2000. The men were challenged to let down their defenses and face themselves squarely. The retreat turned out to be a harrowing rite of passage. The torrid summer heat and the bleak lonely emptiness of the desert combined with soul-search-ing introspection and dramatic rituals to test the most stout-hearted. More often retreats or "a day in the desert" are spent in more friendly spaces. An attractive pastoral setting calms the soul and provides the quiet that people need for facing the real issues of their life. God seems closer in pristine settings. One popular formula for such outings is the poustinia, a concept pop-ularized by Catherine de Hueck Doherty. Poustinia means her-mitage, and folks become poustiniaks for a day, bringing along only a Bible and a bit of bread and cheese. The poustinia can actually be a back room or the attic of one's home, but there are advantages in going out to the woods or the seashore. Getting out in the country, breathing in the fresh air and fragrances of the meadows, walking around the lake or trudging along paths in hilly terrain, can be healthy physical exercise and spiritual refreshment. These are ways of slowing down, of refus-ing to be a couch potato and insuring the balance of mens sana in corpore sano (a sound mind in a sound body). Grace builds on nature, so a healthy body and soul are a good basis for the life of God in us. A good health regime works directly against anx-ious, workaholic tendencies or the equally bad habit of inertia and laziness. Recreational activities also develop the playful side of our lives. This is our contemplative side. Visitors to the desert know that God is everywhere and that they do not have. to go up to the heavens or across the sea to find the word of God. "No," Deuteronomy says, "the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe" (Dt 30:11-14). But the desert facilitates the search. The wide open spaces, the silence and solitude, reveal God. July-August 2002 Larkin ¯ Desert Spirituality Silence is the best conta.ct point with God, since God is always present, though beyond speech, images, and concepts. The desert fosters this silence, this emptiness, the letting go of every-thing that is not of God. The desert is built for kenosis, the self-emptying of Jesus, who was perfectly open to God and was therefore exalted with the pleroma, the fullness of the resurrec-tion (Ph 2:5-11). The desert way is the way of emptiness and fullness. These reflections belong to the first step on the spiritual journey, the appreciation of creation. Original blessing pre-ceded original sin, and immersion in creation and appreciation and love for this gift ought to precede the work of redemption. This is the thinking of Teilhard de Chardin, Matthew Fox, Francis Kelly Nemeck, and Marie Theresa Coombs. More recently Dorothee Soelle sees "being amazed" as the first of the three ways or stages of the spiritual life? Instead of the classi-cal ways of purification, illumination, and union, she proposes "being amazed, letting go, and resisting" as the three steps. Amazement and appreciation help us take an objective stance before the earth, and this makes it easier to let go, the second of the three ways for Soelle. This leads us to involvement, to compassion and commitment, regarding the world. She calls this resistance, because it involves working against the threats to the environment and society. That is to say, we resist and work for justice in all areas of life, such as the economic and the eco-logical orders. The unitive way calls to action as well as divine union. What Can I Do for the Desert? The work of saving the earth is a challenge and responsi-bility for people everywhere today. The call resonates among informed spiritual persons. They have listened to the new cos-mology presented by scientists like Brian Swimme and the "geologian" Thomas Berry, and they have heard the plaintive warnings of the environmentalists that the earth is wounded and in danger of collapsing. The universe has become part of today's spiritual journey. The whole universe and its crown, homo sapiens, are seen as one vast living organism in which they depend on each other and rise and fall together. In the past the Revieva for Religious earth was looked upon as an appendage of humanity. Humanity alone counted, and the rest of creation was expendable. Human beings pursued their own desires recklessly, without thought about the effects in the environment. They could trash the earth, abuse it or destroy it, without worry because there were always other virgin territories to exploit in the same way. This was an affront to creation; we see it now as an affront to human life as well, because, in the words of Edward Abbey, "the wilderness is not a luxury but a neces-sity of the human spirit just as vital to our lives as water and good bread.''4 The uni-verse is an integral part of our human life. We are partners, and we participate in growth or decline together. In the abuse or destruction of the universe, we are diminished and dehumanized. The commission in Genesis 1:26 to have "dominion" over the earth did not give humans the right to abuse it. We are only caretakers, not absolute owners; we cannot take the myopic view of looking for an immediate return in pleasure or profit with no thought about the long-term loss to creation and the short-changing of future human beings. One reviewer of Thomas Berry's latest book, The Great Work: Our Way into the Future, quotes Berry and then adds some strong words of his own: "'What happens to the outer world happens to the inner world,' Berry avers. 'If the outer world is diminished in its grandeur, then the emotional, imaginative, intellectual, and spiritual life of the human is diminished or extinguished.' Our inner being will die if we continue to transform natural beauty into the soul-deadening, concrete-laden, box-store landscapes of a consumer society." s The obligation to safeguard the environment has three aspects: personal, societal, and spiritual. Each person needs to treat the desert with love and respect. Some of that concern is cosmetic, like cleaning up after using the land and properly dis-posing of the debris, especially nonbiodegradable material. Respect and moderation mean that we do not harm the plant life by careless trampling, that we obey rules about camp fires and camping, that we leave the natural beauty intact without pil-fering plants or otherwise harming the vegetation, that we Each person needs to treat the desert with love and respect. July-Aug;ust 2002 Larkin ¯ Dese~t Spirituality carefully control toxic substances like pesticides or poisonous chemicals. These are cominonsense suggestions. The societal obligation may take the form of joining groups like the Sierra Club that are dedicated to the environment, or of lending one's name to, say, Robert Redford's campaign to save the National Arctic Wildlife Refuge. Systemic problems can be addressed only by group action that can effect structural changes. We need to support these causes. There is no other way to stop the pollution of our waterways and atmosphere, to keep indugtrial wastes out of our rivers and lakes, to find ade-quate ways of dealing with nuclear waste, to stop the destruction of the ozone layer, to save the rain forests and wetlands, and to halt the woefully unbalanced overconsumption by the few. Elizabeth Johnson writes: "Every year, the twenty percent of Earth's people in the rich nations use seventy-five percent of the world's resources and produce eighty percent of the world's waste." 6 There is a special spiritual component today because of the crisis in saving the earth. Time is running out, and experts say that there are only twenty-five or thirty years left to turn the destructive spiral around. The problems are over-whelming, and the laborers are few. We can organize and we can work, but the odds are against us. At such times we need overt divine help. Specifically the challenge is to pray con-templatively, to face the societal impasse which Constance FitzGerald, in a famous article several years ago, connected with the dark night of St. John of the Cross: The dark night occurs as impasse in all sectors of human life, whether prayer, human relationships, or societal renewal. One response to impasse is trusting acceptance, silence before God, and lov-ing surrender, which bring wisdom and strength and which are qualities of contemplative prayer. We take our insoluble problems to God. We wait with faith and trust, ready to spring into action in changing what we can deal with and accepting what we cannot change. Contemplative prayer is an admission that our problems may be beyond human resources. But our prayer is full of hope, because contem-plation may stretch our imagination and inspire new creative ways of dealing with the problem. Solid prayer will certainly strengthen our resolve to continue the struggle. The popu- Review for Religious larity of contemplative prayer in our time may well be con-nected with the magnitude of the problems of this age. Desert Spirituality in Its Purest Form We return now to the traditional meaning of desert in the spiritual life, namely, desert as physical place and as symbol. The desert of the first abbas and aromas was the real wasteland. Anthony and Pachormus spurned the fleshpots of the Roman cities and went to the bleak deserts of Egypt to be alone with God and to keep careful watch over the movements of their hearts. The purity of heart they sought meant that they tried to choose only the good, to do everything right, in perfect measure, for the right reasons. They prayed and fasted to put to death the old man within themselves, so that the new man could come alive. They underwent this discipline for one reason: They wanted to see God. This goal was not face-to-face vision, as heaven will be (1 Jn 3:1-3); nor was it seeing God as an object, the way I see a person in front of me. Neither was it simply a new understanding, a new image of God, or a new perception. It was a seeing that meant presence, companionship, walking with God. It was contemplative union with God. Contemplation follows purity of heart as night follows day. We have a window into the thinking of the desert fathers and mothers in the first conference of John Cassian.s The imme-diate objective of life in the desert was purity of heart; this he called the skopos (English "scope"). The skopos is oriented to a further good, which he calls the telos, the end or final purpose. An example of these two aspects of human endeavor is the life of the farmer. The farmer prepares the soil, plants the seed, hoes and manures the field. All this is his immediate task, his sko-pos. But he does it all with a view to the harvest, which is the telos, the real purpose of his work. If the skopos of life in the desert is purity of heart, the telos is the fullness of the kingdom of God, the resurrected life. This program of seeking perfect purity of heart in order to find God can be applied to every Christian life. Purity of heart-- as freedom from every actual sin and as right relationships with self, others, the world, and God--is the immediate task of the daily struggle. Purity of heart is more than chastity; it is all the Larkin ¯ Desert Spirituality Purity of heart is all the virtues in perfect integration. virtues in perfect integration. This marvelous condition is often set in negative terminology. It is called detachment, or indif-ference, or freedom from sinful habits. But it is a very positive condition identified with biblical faith. This faith is the response to the word of God wherever it is recognized. It is the faith of the Virgin Mary in St. Luke's Gospel. At the annunciation, for example, she is perturbed at the angel Gabriel's message. How can she, a committed virgin, be the mother of the Messiah? When the angel assures her that God will provide, she gives her full assent to that word. She lets go of her own project in favor of God's word. A high degree of purity of heart means a heart full of faith. It means a heart full of love. The pure of heart are loving per-sons. They will see God, that is, they will know and love God, as described in the First Letter of John: "Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love . No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us" (1 Jn 4:7-8, 12). For the desert fathers and mothers and espe-cially for theologians like Evagrius and Gregory of Nyssa, see-ing God meant contemplation. This gift was the reward for the purification, and it consisted in experiencing union with God. This contemplation was not one particular experience, nor an altered state of consciousness. It came out of transformation. By allowing one's life to be brought under the movement of the Holy Spirit, one was born a new person, a "new creation" (2 Co 5:17). This new creature lived in the world of God and expe-rienced God in the whole gamut of his or her worldly occupa-tions. Contemplation was thus a way of life, not a particular experience. The Carmelite Application The evolution of desert spirituality suggested in this paper has special reference to Carmelite history. Carmel came out of Review for Religious the desert, born on Mount Carmel, home to the Old Testament prophet Elijah and to hundreds of hermits at the time of the Crusades. The Carmelites were one group of such hermits; they sought a rule of life from the Latin patriarch of Jerusalem, Albert of Avogadro, who held the office between 1206 and 1214. The result was the Rule of St. Albert, a contemplative and eremitical document that was simple, practical, and eminently scriptural. The tides of politics and war, however, forced the Carmelites to leave their sacred mountain and go back to Europe as early as 1238. The eremitic style of life underwent change in the direction of community and ministry, eventually making the order a mendicant one like the Dominicans and Franciscans. One of the early general superiors, Nicholas the Frenchman, tried to stem the move to the city. In 1270 he wrote a strong let-ter, called "The Fiery Arrow," calling the men to return to the desert. But the mendicant form of life had struck a chord in their hearts. They continued to foster their contemplative long-ing, but now they carried the desert in their hearts. The desert was a symbol now rather than the physical reality. A second charter of the order, called the Institution of the First Monks, dated 1370 and written by a Catalonian Carmelite, Philip Ribot, presented a symbolic life of Elijah and the example of the Blessed Mother as both a description and a defense of the new lifestyle. The book incorporated the thinking of John Cassian, especially on the structure of the religious life as the search for purity of heart and contemplation. The desert spirituality of Mount Carmel was adapted now to an active apostolic life. Henceforth Carmelite spirituality was at home in communities of active religious and lay people as well as cloistered contem-platives. The reform of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross two centuries later built on this document and renewed and perfected the eremitical-contemplative ideal of Carmel. They did so, not only by promoting desert houses of total contem-plative life, but by organizing a way in which every Carmelite house could be, in the words of a great Carmelite of the next century, John of St. Samson, another Mount Carmel. The desert spirituality of Carmel's beginnings had become democratized and available to all who espouse the ideals of the Carmelite tradition. 3 73- --- July-August 2002 Larkin ¯ Desert Spirituality Notes t Christian Meditation and centering prayer are two popular forms of contemplative prayer, designed by John Main OSB and the Trappists at Spencer, Massachusetts, respectively, the former promoted by the World Community of Christian Meditation under Laurence Freeman OSB and the latter by Contemplative Outreach, whose leader is Thomas Keating OCSO. 2 Donal O'Leary, "High Noon at Ghost Ranch," Furrow 52 (January 2001): 27-35. 3 Silent Cry: Mysticism and Resistance (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001), pp. 88-93. 4 Cited from his Desert Solitaire by Thomas J. McCarthy, "The Ultimate Sanctum," America (9 April 2001): 6. s Stephen Bede Sharper, "A New Heaven and a New Earth," Christian Spirituality Bulletin 8 (Fall-Winter 2000): 15. 6 "God's Beloved Creation," America (16 April 2001): 9. 7 "Dark Night as Impasse," in Living with Apocalypse, ed. Tilden Edwards (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1984). s Conferences, of John Cassian, trans. Colm Luibheid (New York: Paulist Press, 1985), pp. 37-43. Devotion I am twelve, have read of the child Virgin martyrs, and decide it is High time I practice such virtue. At My next confession, after the usual Childhood sins, I say I want to Vow myself to God like a saint. The Assistant pastor, thinking fast, replies That at present I don't know The vocation God has chosen For me, but I may promise him My chastity until I take that vow, Or those of marriage. Satisfied, I rejoice in God's favor, and Make my promise. Mary Hanson Review for Religious BARBARA ZAJAC Three Forms of Community Living: A Survey Report For much of the 20th century, sisters who performed charitable service works lived in convents near the institutions they served. As missions and roles changed after the Sister Formation Conference (1950s) and Vatican Council II (1960s), so did the living arrange-ments, often necessitated by travel considerations. Congregations such as these had called themselves "communities" when they held common missions and residences, and they continue to use this term today even though--wearing few or no common ~ymbols, ministering in widely diverse occupations, and residing in locales favorable to their mission assign-ments- many are barely identifiable as members of a group of sisters. Puzzled that this topic received little attention in sociological literature aside from Wittberg's analyses (see Bibliography), I found myself raising several research questions about the meaning of "community." Does it mean a location-based entity? A process? A set of relationships? A task force? A par-ticular goal or ideal toward which people strive? As part of a larger study (Zajac, 1999b), I studied Barbara Zajac first contributed to our pages in 1999. Her current address is Department of Sociology; Indiana State University; Terre Haute, Indiana 47809. July-Aug£ust 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living one religious order of apostolic sisters. Though from their founding the group provided chiefly educational and medical services, individual sisters now select their own mission assign-ments, which include traditional teaching and parish pastoral work, professional careers such as psychologist and speech pathologist, and social activism and feeding the homeless and hungry. Throughout California over a two-year period (1995 and 1996), fifty members of this congregation were interviewed indi-vidually and in-depth. Although the sample was volunteer and purposive, it is considered fairly ~:epresentative of the order in general (see Zajac, 1999a). Additional information was obtained from the group's monthly magazinE, religious periodicals, and selected participant observation. The group is given the pseudonym Sisters of Reconciliation of JesusI (SRJ). Similarly, individual names and identifying factors have been disguised or altered. What Community Means It is evident that there is no widespread consensus about the word community. Putting feelings into words was difficult for the sisters, and they responded in words they were comfortable using. Some began with what I would call generalized notions of community, and others described what community involves or how it can be formed and lived. Still others spol~e of mani-festations of community and of how community is maintained. Nearly everyone cited some of the qualities I will describe under manifestations of community. Anything approaching near agreement on most of the gen-eralized notions of community was absent. Some sisters attached the term to a specific location, while others denied the impor-tance of a spatial component. Some described community as an ongoing process that is never completed, or as an ability, agree-ment, or commitment. Others mentioned the people involved and the human connections among them. A number of the sis-ters spoke of community as a bond or tie among people, a togetherness, while others used such phrases as "a living-out of the vows," "a unanimity of vision and purpose," and "the charism [of the Sisters of Reconciliation] lived out." Regarding Review for Religious the often mentioned familial nature of community, there was much disagreement. Some denied that it is a family, some described it as "like" a family, and others claimed that it is "more than" a family. Certain sisters told me they think community involves notions of struggle, being invested in the group or having a sense of ownership about it. Some explained the factors by which they create for themselves a sense of "community," ger-mane to the can-be-done category. While at least one sister cited similar ministry as the key to community, others thought the key is personal characteristics such as being open to others, try-ing to understand them, and being thoughtful, prayerful, and considerate. Many said that much communication is needed, and a great deal of give-and-take, exemplified in being open to others, trying to understand them, and allowing for the flow of communication, with its misunderstandings, disagreements, and concurrences. Others talked of the mechanisms by which community can be sustained, such as living or working together, "making it happen," or constantly articulating the meanings. The latter suggestions are rather nonspecific, but the next item is quite different. Certain sisters told me they think community involves notions of struggle. Manifestations of Community Nearly everyone listed one or two qualities in the category called manifestations ofcommunity. A good many used a small number of emotionally laden terms, heartfelt terms: empathy, interconnectedness, sharing. Others used different words, but their intent seemed similar enough that I could not justify putting their statements elsewhere. Examples of this are "living together, not singly" and "working on things together." In this "manifestations" category many talked of the people they encountered, or of the work as being a continual process; some continued an articulation of "what community means to me." Human behaviors and interactions, with their sentiments July-August 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living and attitudes, make up the heart of community. Empathy is expressed especially through concern and caring, through notic-ing and having interest in others. One person termed this a "feeling for" others, and many called it "support." Such senti-ments are displayed in such particular behaviors and actions as showing respect and appreciation or at least acceptance; if not, the reality of the sentiments is questionable. If empathy is pre-sent and expressed, the members of a group develop and main-tain an interconnectedness, an interdependence, a mutual sense of belonging. They develop a social solidarity. Empathy, empathic behavior, and interdependence work together in what is called sharing, which seems to be central. Nearly all the sisters interviewed mentioned the sharing of something, whether faith or prayer, tasks, worldly goods, help-ful services, or expressions of caring support. Sharing faith and the spiritual life was mentioned most frequently, and, along with it, the emotional support this sharing provided. Things like housework, goods, and ministry are shared differently, depending on the specific living arrangements (to be described shortly). The sharing of spirituality and various works rein-forces caring sentiments and behaviors and the sense of being interdependent. It is through sharing even ordinary things that crucial personal connections are created and sustained. Representative Community Groupings Three types of community living groups will be described: a self-named "intentional" community, what I term a residen-tial community, and a community of one. These are composite portraits. They do not describe every type of living situation, but seem representative of the arrangements of active Sisters of Reconciliation. Intentional Community "House of Peace" is the sign next to the doorbell of a large house in a run-down neighborhood of the central city where poverty is endemic and violence is the norm. The home of five SRJs, this intentional:community was formed with express pur-poses in mind. The sisters deliberately chose its location amid Review for Religious widespread desolation in order to identify with and serve the poorest people of the city. The members were selected for their personal and professional qualities, namely, a desire for an intense spiritual life and an unwavering dedication to the mis-sion of the Sisters of Reconciliation in serving the city's need-iest people. There are five regular residents. Sister Elaine Sherman runs a transitional housing program for homeless families. Sister Mary Anne coordinates the sisters' social-justice efforts. Sister Ruth Patrick, retired from a full career of teaching, daily trav-els twenty miles each way to where she cooks and serves meals to transients. Sister Bertina Marie, who is bilingual, is a com-munity activist and pastoral minister in the Spanish-speaking community. Sister Jane Th~r~se, who has not yet taken her final vows in religious life, teaches religion in a local Catholic high school and hopes to study divinity in the future. The house is also the home base of a sister working in a residential house for adolescents and of sisters visiting temporarily from mission lands or elsewhere. Sister Ruth Patrick, the oldest sister and the one longest in the SRJs, was the driving force for starting this new house. She had been aware of the brewing turbulence in religious life since the 1950s and thought then that the sisters ought to be living more adult lives than was possible while rigidly observing detailed rules and daily schedules in sequestered convents. She wanted to live out her own values explicitly, holding prayer in common, sharing with the poor, living very simply, and being concerned about others and accountable to them. And so she looked for sisters that she felt had a strong sense of the SRJ mis-sion and were dedicating their lives to living it. She looked for sisters who knew themselves well and.knew what would equip them well for their ministries. She looked for sisters who were aware of what would personally empower them and what might drain them of apostolic energy. She looked for sisters who were willing to give support to others and to receive it as well. Such sisters she approached with her proposal. Perhaps most important, these women must be open to new forms of prayer such as sharing of the heart rather than recit-ing formulaic prayers at specified hours. This prayer involves common reading of a passage from the Bible' and then individ- July-August 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living ual reflection and comment on what the reading means to each one, how it applies to her own life. It demands a willingness to be open and vulnerable to other people. This sharing of faith and spirituality is not for everyone. Some older sisters, in par-ticular, have been reluctant to engage in it. Now, when a new member wishes to join the house, she comes and talks with the existing group about her hopes and ex.pectations for common life. She learns that, in addition to sharing faith and emotional support, the group divides up the house chores, such as bookkeeping and paying the bills, shopping for food and preparing meals, cleaning and yard work. She learns that she is to live on the allotted personal budget and to reserve some of that money to support foreign missionaries. She learns that "one person's guest is every person's guest" here. Although a sister may dislike or resent such an interview before being admitted to a new house, she needs to remind herself that the present residents consider it crucial that new residents know and agree to support these values and their explicit expression. Sister Elaine, who came to religious life through her vol-unteer work and not directly from her Catholic schooling, explains more about this group's dynamics~ Although they min-ister in diverse fields with varied schedules, they reserve one night a week as their community night, when all will be present for prayer, eating, and sharing. Her social-work background leads her to describe the difficulty of working with people "who are blocked up" by past traumas or interpersonal issues. This form of life, this "microcosm of society," is a difficult life to live. It must enable sisters to go out and minister to the world. They must learn to be communicative and must get to know each other's histories. Since there are various workable arrangements for getting through days cooperatively and smoothly, the sisters must con-tinually strive to accommodate themselves to the others in the group. Sister Elaine thinks that an all-female group can be "really beautiful and powerful or really terrible," depending on how they handle interpersonal relations. The key thing, in her experience, is to keep talking to each other and "not whine." She admits that she had to learn some of these things herself in community living and that it is still sometimes difficult to keep her own "space." She is one of those who prefer not to talk to Review for Religious anyone for a few minutes after arising in the morning, so she now showers at this time to maintain her internal quietude. Pastoral ministry to the poor and immigrant Spanish-speak-ing community is Sister Bertina Marie's specialty. While her day is occupied with teaching English as a second language and running a community center with various offices and activities (Head Start, legal clinic, medical outreach services, and chil-dren's programs), she is an integral member of the House of Peace. Seeking more ways to live out the SRJ vision, charism, and values, its members extend love and hospitality to sur-rounding neighbors. The sisters offer their house as a site for Neighborhood Watch and other meetings. They make sure that flowers are always growing in their yard to symbolize nonvio-lence in a locale where drugs, gangs, and hostilities abound. Sister Bertina Marie stresses the integration of the house goals with individual ministries: all identify with and serve the poor, value deep prayer life in common, and support others with goods and hospitality. Sister Mary Anne, the government-affairs coordinator for the congregation, spends her.time researching, writing, lobby-ing, and educating people about political issues that affect the poor. Working for such structural change where results come slowly if at all is for many an enervating and thankless task. She talks of recognizing one's own needs as well as those of others, and of balancing community life with ministry. She speaks from experience. At one time she held a position that "totally consumed" her. She thought she was in a vocation crisis and should perhaps leave the community. She was so burned out that she" had nothing to give to anyone and did not even want to "bring Jesus" to the people she worked with. An extended retreat, however, provided her with reflection time to realize it was her ministerial position that needed to be changed, not her SRJ affiliation. Now she highly values living with oth-ers who think as she does, all of them giying and getting real emotional and spiritual support. "Community has been a gift to me," she recalls, mention-ing the friends she has made and how they "move together in growth." She says she was one of the first to propose and pio-neer small-group living and that her experience with eight oth-ers proved its value for her. Being honest with each other and .~tuly-August 2002 Zajac * Three Forms of Community Living "I'm not accepted just because I'm capable. I can be a failure and I'm still loved." sharing their deepest values were what she had been seeking. When all members had the "same thirst for God and the desire to live out a faith life in mission," they found they did not fight over little things, but rather worked them out, a quality that is sometimes missing in residential communities. The youngest member of the House of Peace commun!ty is Sister Jane Th4r~se, thirty-something, planning to take her final vows within a year. She was attracted to this house for sev-eral reasons besides its location near where she teaches religion to inner-city children. She was pleased that there were a vari-ety of ages together there and liked their outreach to the neigh-borhood. As a newer SRJ, she appreciated this group's willingness to work with younger members and pass on wisdom and insight from their experience. Sister Jane Th4r~se cites a sentence to describe the com-munity's value to her, a line from the SRJ constitution: "With the strength that comes from our life together, we turn to serve the world in need." "This was not only memorized," she says, "it was lived." She remarks that the constitution holds that SRJs share "all that we have and are," including personal uncertainties, frailties, and inabilities, all of which she knows firsthand. Before her current ministry she was locked into a miserable sit-uation where she had no power or auth.ority. She says that, although her sisters in this local community were in no position to give her help or even offer constructive criticism, speaking about her difficulties and receiving support in return were cru-cial to her fulfilling that assignment. Such unconditional accep-tance comes from being a member of the community. She says, "I'm not accepted just because I'm capable. I carl be a failure and I'm still loved." The ability to be vulnerable and to share one another's gifts helps her "to find God active in the world." In addition to these regular residents, House of Peace is also the local community for Sister Mary Kimball, a member of the SRJs of the East Coast. In Califoi'nia to gain experience in a new ministry, she runs a home for truant and delinquent high Review for Religious school girls who show academic or other creative potential. Because this ministerial unit requires her live-in presence, she affiliates with the House of Peace local community. Ordinarily she will be there every Monday evening to share dinner, prayer, and occasional social activities. Being a member of this group keeps her from feeling isolated and abandoned and allows her to give and get support within the context of her commitment to the mission of the SRJs. Residential Community The convent of St. Junipero Serra sits amid a pleasant res-idential neighborhood in the west side of the city. Next to the Catholic church and school, it once housed sisters of the con-gregation responsible for running the school. Now no sisters teach there. Not needed for parish activities, the building is rented to the SRJs for a reasonable fee. The residential com-munity is home to seven SRJs engaged in various ministries; the youngest is in her forties, and two are semiretired. This convent is run by group government, explains Sister William Joseph, who teaches math at Sacred Heart College for Women, established by the SRJs. Group government, originally an experimental form of living, applies now to almost all resi-dential groups and means participatory decision making in mat-ters that involve all members. The group collectively determines the extent of common prayer life, shared meals, other domes-tic activities, and group celebrations. "Respect" and "acceptance" are two words frequently heard in this group because, as one explains, "not all things can be shared well." This group has decided to share morning prayers Mondays through Fridays, and to gather one evening a week to share experiences and discuss the business of the larger con-gregation. They support the large community of sisters at events and serve as a "presence" in the parish. The group evening may be for holiday celebrations or indi-vidual birthdays or religious feast days. At the time of Sister William Joseph's interview in early January, there was a tall dec-orated Christmas tree in the common living room where we talked. She told me that this community would be celebrating its Christmas that evening, exchanging gifts. During the previ- July-August 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living ous week, all were out visiting their families, so a common celebration was postponed. Sister William Joseph was one of those who did not want to break up the convent into smaller residential groups in the 1970s. She has always appreciated the exposure to many other sisters and did not wish to lose contact with those she might not encounter in her ministry or in small-group living. She says she has always had to "stretch herself" for others, but adds that this is part of the commitment they make to each other. Similar is her opinion of all the congregational events this house supports; she really does not care for so many meetings and events, but attends as part of the duty she upholds. Sister Adia Marie Buckley, too, is involved in academics. An administrator at the same college, she speaks about reli-gious- life community a little differently. "Although there must be people with whom one lives and with whom one must main-tain friendly relations," she says, "community extends to much more than this." She explains the kinship sense she feels with the broad congregation of other SRJs in the United States and else-where in the world, and with affiliate members, former mem-bers, and sisters in other orders. Sister Catherine Tivnan, who runs an office at the congre-gational headquarters, explains why she chose this house: "They're kind of middle-of-the-roaders, and I thought I'd fit in with them. I thought this was what I was looking for in peo-ple, for not heavy-duty intensive living, but just a nice, com-fortable place where I would fit in and would be accepted." By "not intensive" she explains that in some places there are peo-ple who "dissect everything and practically have a magnifying glass on everything you say and do." She says she does not mind such psychological probing on occasion, but cannot take a steady diet of it. She gives an example. A sister with whom she used to live would read every article in the Sunday newspaper and then want to discuss it with anyone in the room at the time. Eventually Sister Catherine would explicitly refuse to talk with her. She preferred to look at the paper rather quickly and then move on to other activities like walking by the beach or going to a movie. Sister Elizabeth Conan is a registered nurse and medical instructor who teaches away from home two or three evenings Review for Religious a week. Dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a plaid shirt, she tells me that she does less of the cooking for the house than some oth-ers because of her split work schedule. Her family also occupies her attention for about one day a month because of some difficult illness. She loves spending time with her sisters in com-munity, however, including their times of play. She likes to barbecue in good weather, and she says that at times she will just put out a sign-up sheet shortly beforehand, rather than planning everything well in advance. "Dressed to the teeth" was the impression Sister Margaret de Lorca made when I met her in her office at the parish hall. She explains that, coming from an artistic family, she had always enjoyed the use of color in her surroundings, although she did not wear it during many years of teaching in the traditional habit. Working part-time now, Sister Margaret works in religious edu-cation, organizing prayer groups, directing occasional retreats, and providing individual spiritual direction. She tells me that the sisters have common prayer in the house at 6:10 a.m. Monday through Friday. They initially prayed together in the evenings, but found it too difficult because of their divergent schedules. She contrasts living here in a small group with living in the congregational center, which is home to about a hundred sisters and was her home for two years. Even though residents here have to work to find time to be together, it takes a lot less energy to relate to this group than it would to everyone in the large community. Life was stressful for her there because, in walk-ing down a hallway, she would commonly encounter ten or twelve different people. By the time the tenth person said "How are you, Sister Margaret?" she would be exhausted. She is "not an extrovert," but also "not a strong introvert," so daily relations with six other people are plenty for her. Another member of this group is Sister Margot Monroe, an educational psychologist who does counseling for individ-ual schools and has a private practice for handicapped children. The sisters have common prayer in the house at 6:10 a.m. Monday through Friday. July-dugv~st 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living Though she loved the children she encountered in her teaching career, she became frustrated by the time required for extracur-ricular events like sports and cheerleading. She wonders if the congregation made a mistake leaving teaching en masse, and thinks the sisters should have taken more risks in starting new schools and programs.' She also expressed her frustration about the church, where "the hierarchy has not accepted our SRJ growth" and women religious are "only tolerated in the church and not really accepted." This leaves her in the painful posi-tion of being more removed from general church affairs than she would like to be. She feels similarly frustrated in her residential community, where not all have grown theologically and personally to the extent she has. Some of the sisters are not accustomed or very open to sharing, which she finds particularly "life-giving." "People can fulfill all their responsibilities," she explains, "and still not share who they really are." Although she tries to encourage certain ones to be more open, she does it in a gen-tle manner. Still, she finds this group to be a little shallow: "I feel I have community with the people I live with, but it's rather superficial. We're nice to each other. Our horarium for the day is not problematic at all, but I wish we had a depth of sharing that would bring us all to a different place." She believes, however, that living in this house is a trade-off. These people are not her best friends, of which she hag a num-ber outside this convent. While she gains depth and stimula-tion from her outside friendships, here she has the freedom and flexibility to come and go as she pleases without making com-mitments for large blocks of personal time and energy. The final resident of this group is also semiretired. Sister Patricia Louise, in her nineties, likes to cook and works in the parish food pantry. She says that "the diversity of ministry now militates against close community life," which they had when all worked together. This way is "harder but healthier"; it keeps people in contact with diverse fields and offers stimulating con-versation. She says: "It used to be that, if you all taught in the same elementary school, your conversation was always about families in the school, problem kids, what was going on in the parish. But this way we also know what is going on at the col-lege, at the high school, and at the hospitals." Review for Religious Despite their interdependence in the common life, how-ever, they are independent about their use of free time. She says that everyone is very "embedded" in what she is doing on her own and that not living with one's best friends is really an advantage. She adds that she never wanted a residence that was "like a hotel" and prefers the interdependence she finds here. Even though these women do not have "a lot of involvement with each other, what they do has value." A Community of One Sister Zo~ Warnercalls herself "a community of one" because no other sisters live or work with her and she does not have weekly contact with members of her congregation. Fifteen years ago she went out on her own with the blessing of the com-munity (but no funding) to create St. Martin's Children's Center, a temporary residential and resource center for children in fam-ilies undergoing major upheavals in their lives. Like an available set of grandparents, this center can care for up to fifteen chil-dren for a maximum of thirty days each, although the staff tries to restrict it to fewer children and shorter periods of time. Sister Zo~ lived in this large residence with a dog as her sole com-panion while the structure underwent remodeling and opera-tions eventually got underway, and she still lives there. Her purpose in inhabiting the building before its operation was to become a "presence" in the town and to begin to get a "community focus" on the center. She is referring not to the SRJ community now, but to the neighborhoods, businesses, and voluntary groups which support the center's activities. Her strat-egy evidently worked, because, as people came to know her and her plans, they wanted to participate and give support in vari-ous ways. One measure of that support is financial. Sister Zo~ "lives on faith" to provide the center's operating expenses of almost a half million dollars a year, because it has no regular income. Contributions tend to be sporadic yet somehow ade-quate for their needs. She says: "The Lord provides when we need it. from the little things to the big things . We just watch the mailbox and say our prayers. We have never run out of money or closed our doors due to lack of funds." Although she hopes to obtain the services of a part-time grant writer later July-Auffust 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living "Community is the same as its core. I am a sister from the core of my being." this year, she has done this and all other duties herself, includ-ing caring for the children and teaching life skills to the parents. Although a few Sisters of Reconciliation have come to work with her for brief periods over the years, Sister Zo~ now sees none of them frequently. Yet her connection to the SRJs is strong, and "our sisters., very much know I'm a community member." She explains that her SRJ area superior holds general gatherings three or four times a year and maybe a day of prayer once in a while. By participating in these activities and attend-ing the funerals of older sisters, Sister Zo~ carries the SRJ charism with her and uses it to create a sense of community with whomever she is working: "There's something I have learned., that, no matter where you go, you bring the sisters with you or you bring your experience of community." In addition to SRJ gatherings and ministry associates, Sister Zo~ has a couple of good friends she sees regularly. One of these is a nun from another congregation; the other is a priest friend. This little group frequently celebrates Sunday Mass in the residence of the non-SRJ, and they sometimes follow it with a potluck dinner, occasionally bringing in other friends or neigh-bors. She had to create this new sense of community herself, however, and she attributes this ability to her long-standing experiences with the SRJs: "By coming out here, community wasn't provided for me. I had to create it, and I used the skills, the tools, the experiences that I had had for all those years. to create a life that was community-oriented. But I had to take the reins and take the initiative and have it happen." Would she like more contact with other SRJs? She says that, although she does not require it, she would welcome another sis-ter if one were to want to live and work with her, and perhaps this new person would help care for her when she gets "old." She emphasizes, "Community is not based on the number of times you see people, but on the feelings and interests to see, hear, and share with others." She also takes he~" identity as an SRJ seriously, having followed the advice of her novice mistress never to abbre-viate the word sister, but always to write it out as part of her name Review for Religious and identity. Sister ZoE puts this together with her feelings about community: "Community is the same as its core. I am a sister from the core of my being, and I am a Sister of Reconciliation." "Good" and "Bad" Community Some sisters gave examples of either "good" or "bad" com-munity experiences, which sometimes held more feeling than the brief descriptive words suggest. One sister said that real community spirit was truly shown when her very good friend died suddenly. She received about a hundred sympathy cards, which told her that the loss of this friend was about more than "my private grief." Another sister described spending some time at a residential therapeutic community for religious congrega-tions. The therapy included the sharing of their life stories, a "first" for this particular sister, where the sharing of those "sad and joyful feelings" created a strong bond within the group. Still another told of the difficult period when she lost her job because of organizational restructuring, but still had had the full support of the community: "I was very glad I was a com-munity woman because otherwise I would have had to get a lawyer. In community I just shared what happened, and they journeyed with me through it." Sister MaryJoyce described her experiences in one of the first experimental communities of group government in 1969. In this new group for which everyone had volunteered, there were between ten and fifteen sisters at various times over several years, and they were trying out new approaches to teaching as well as living. This situation was "life-giving": the participants were all "high energy" types and risk takers as well. They all cared for each other and the outside world, and were concerned about where people were with God, faith, and prayer. Sister Kathryn Ann described something similar. When her ministry took her away from others in her own order, she lived in an apartment house that people came to call The Nunnery because in addition to herself there were six sisters from another con-gregation, a priest, and a brother, all in individual apartments. Although they "lived singly" and ministered in different places, they got together frequently for prayer, meals, and Mass, often signaled by a knock on the wall. July-Angvtst 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Living 3.90 Sister Mary Magdalene has had her share of feeling less than appreciated by other SRJs, yet had a wonderful experience when she lived in a rural area with three other sisters, all teachers, who endured together the crisis of the school's closing. Although one of them was the principal of the school and also the supe-rior of the convent, they interacted as equals and "were just peo-ple together," frequently cooking and sharing meals on the weekends in an era when most convents still had cooks. Although they were together in the school, they also spent outside time together, but "it wasn't mandated. It was a choice we were mak-ing." This relaxed atmosphere where everyone's talents were recognized was contributed to by a pastor who was supportive and friendly and occasionally took them all out to dinner. Another sister, Sister Peg, described an aspect of her first job as a hospital chaplain. Living in an apartment across the street from the hospital, she provided hospitality for visiting sisters and especially those recuperating from surgery or illness. The informality and spontaneous "ease with which the sisters moved in and out of my life" was an exciting and fulfilling period. These positive experiences of community do not necessar-ily require other sisters or vowed people. Sister Benita Rogers shared one such experience when she was leaving an ethnically mixed parish that she had brought together over a number of years. Addressing a large parish group, Sister Benita, who does not speak Spanish, expressed her desire that perhaps now the diocese would assign a bilingual person as her replacement. A Hispanic man stood and spoke for the group: "It doesn't mat-ter whether or not you can speak Spanish. You have the corazon, the heart. That's how you've communicated. You've read us with your heart." It is the major congregational gatherings, however, that sev-eral sisters cited as the "best expression" of community spirit. One of these celebrations is the Congregational Days, when all sisters from the West come together with former sisters as well as affiliate members to celebrate the SRJs as a whole. The other is the jubilee celebration, held anr~ually on the feast day of their patron. Families and friends are invited to participate in the joyful celebration of the anniversaries of their vows as Sisters of Reconciliation. Among these hundreds of people there is a won- Review for Religious derful "spirit that you can almost touch." Everyone feels a part of this group energy and spirituality. It leads people to say that "the most profound experience of community is to experience us praying together." Although Sister Rafaela says she "has never had a bad com-munity experience," this is not the case for many sisters. Sisters described instances where they felt alienated, isolated, or at least not fully appreci-ated in the community, both in their local group and in the larger group. Often the difficulty stemmed from some-one's personality or behavior. When people are too busy to notice others or care about what they are undergoing, those others can feel "deadened" and not supported, making them withdraw from the group. On the other hand, those who "demand too much" from others in terms of time or resources make community living difficult. These people are usually those who have "not done their home-work" regarding their own interpersonal issues. Sometimes, carrying unresolved emotional traumas from their early life, they attempt to hide with the aid of alcohol, a too busy sched-ule, or emotional distancing of others. When people are "afraid of their own spirituality" or are "not willing to be honest" with each other, communal sharing and support are undermined from the start. Sometimes there is a plain lack of openness to others. Sister Joan Claire Mendoza described such a case. She lives in a large convent with eight or nine other sisters, four of whom work in the attached school, while the rest work in various other min-istries. They are together for morning Mass and one evening dinner per week. Although these sisters are "polite" to Sister Joan Claire, it is clear to her that they really do not want her there. Three of them maintain very close relations and actually "make up their own community." Fortunately, Sister Joan Claire has developed a personal and professional network of friends and colleagues from whom she receives most of her emotional Those who "demand too much" from others in terms of time or resources make community living difficult. -201 --- . J~dy-dugust 2002 Zajac " Three Forms of Community Living sustenance. Another sister described a similar case. She felt so rejected that she was "not even sure she was still an SRJ." Others expressed their isolation when they felt that their talents, gifts, or ministry were not appreciated. If community members remain or act unaware or. uninformed about them and their work, those living in common as well as those minister-ing on their own can be affected. Sometimes the personalities of the people living together are too divergent or their schedules too diverse to allow for harmonious living. Highly divergent worldviews in people can also make daily life uncom-fortable. In other instances a quiet person is misconstrued to be someone quite alien to her real self. One sister said she had been surprised to learn that her housemates had thought she was very self-confident and did not need any help or support. In another convent she had been perceived as a threat to others because she had more education than most of the others. The biggest obstacle to community, however, one sister said, occurs when people do not maintain confidences. This causes a shat-tering of trust and pushes people back to isolation. A few sisters expressed frustration or anger with the com-munity at large. One told of an instance when her mother was dying. Although everyone knew about this, there was little inter-est, caring, or support shown. Another sister said that several years ago she was angry with the general community for giving financial support to a foreign political group that she thought was wrong. Another sister said that sometimes lack of equality really bothered her. Because of her age she had been denied permission to study for an advanced degree, yet in that very year three sisters older than herself were approved and funded for graduate education. When this woman protested this as unjust, she received an apology from the president of the con-gregation, but still no approval for further study. In this article we have examined how sisters in one reli-gious community define and create "community." There is lit-tle general consensus about the term, although some common values are evident. In general, all agree that something must be shared and that there is a feeling of interdependence or inter-connectedness. How and what things are shared, however, varies according to the type of living group that is chosen. Individual Review for Religious sisters' stories were interwoven here into three composite pic-tures of community living: intentional community, residential community, and a community of one. Also, some examples of what creates "good" and "bad" community were given. The various types of community exist in various circum-stances and are experienced in various ways by individual sisters. There seems to be no one right way. There is a considerable diversity of views, activities, roles, and living arrangements. This diversity contrasts strongly with the pre-Vatican II con-vents, with their physical proximity to the apostolic work the sis-ters did, their thorough discipline, and their homogeneity of life conditions. Note ~ I later discovered that this was the original European name of a congregation now in the United States with a different name. Bibliography Beane, Marjorie Noterman. 1993. From framework to freedom: A history of the Sister Formation Conference. New York: University Press of America. Eby, Judy, RSM. 2000. "A little squabble among nuns"? The Sister Formation crisis and the patterns of authority and obedience among American women religious, 1954-1971. Unpublished doc-toral dissertation, Saint Louis University. Emerson, Robert M., ed. 1983. Contemporary field research: A collec-tion of readings. Prospect Heights, Illinois: Waveland Press. Merton, Robert K., Marjorie Fiske, and Patricia L. Kendall. 1990. The focused interview: A manual of problems and procedures. New York: Free Press. Powdermaker, Hortense. 1960. Stranger and friend: The way of an anthropologist. New York: W.W. Norton. Quifionez, Lora Ann, CDP, and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN. 1992. The transformation of American Catholic sisters. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. Vatican Council H: The conciliar and postconciliar documents and More postconciliar documents. 1975, 1982. Edited by Austin Flannery OP. Northport, New York: Costello Publishing Co. Wittberg, Patricia, SC. 1990. Dyads and triads: The sociological impli-cations of small-group living arrangements. Review for Religious 43, no. 1 (January-February): 43-51. July-August 2002 Zajac ¯ Three Forms of Community Li~ing ¯ 1993. Residence stability and decline in Roman Catholic reli-gious orders of women: A preliminary investigation. Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 32: 76-82. Zajac, Barbara. 1999a. Becoming a nun: A general model of entering religious life. Review for Religious 58 (July-August): 403-423. --. 1999b. Community suicide: Secularization in Catholic nuns with the manipulation of ritual and symbol. Unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of California, Riverside. Wounded The unseen spider ripped my flesh, and drew blood, nourishment, afresh, and left a black-red crater there: pink, puffy, filled with pus - not fair. A round wound one inch wide oozing fluid down the side. I've been a meal for a foreign beast, stamped with a bump, a spider's feast. This tiny spider sucked sustenance from me, drew life, left a mark, for all to see - how dare he! Am I any different? Don't I do the same? Feed on the Christ, wound him, without shame? Michael J. Lydon Reviev; for Religious JOEL GIALLANZA Expert Practitioners of Union in Community Once upon a time community was uncomplicated, ever a delight in which to witness and work, a constant joy to be and build. Beg your pardon! Are we talking about reality here? Yes, but only by flashback to the language and imagery of a different era. Let me explain. In researching various writings on religious community--most of them published from the 1930s to the early 1960s--I wondered if the lived experience of community during those decades matched the somewhat romantic and idealistic rhetoric about it. I decided that it prob-ably did not; rather, the rhetoric offered encouragement and hope as supports for the lived experience. Religious knew then and continue to experience now the complexity of community life. The word community itself has a complex meaning. It means more than religious living in the same residence. We know that community members may be scattered across cities and even across continents. Another facet includes the personalities and perspectives of the members. Similarity and unanimity are no guarantee that a community is healthy and thriving or even that the members know one another more than superficially. Community encompasses the members' cultures and customs and their ages and attitudes. And so we can ask: How do we recognize one another as members of the Joel Giallanza CSC last wrote for us in May-June 2000. His address is Province Center; 1101 St. Edward's Drive; Austin, Texas 78704. July-August 2002 Giallanza ¯ Expert Practitioners of Union community? Community also encompasses the unique heritage and history of each religious institute and the cast of charac-ters who have lived that heritage and been a part of that history. And there are our own experiences in life and ministry. The complexity of religious community does not diminish its potential for living up to the rhetoric of earlier eras. In truth, it has all the potential with which humanity was invested by God at creation. And yet, when we discuss the many factors currently influencing religious life, the task of formulating an all-encompassing definition or description of community is quite daunting and sometimes discouraging. This perception, this temptation to invest less time and energy in such discus-sions, can have a detrimental effect on the quality of community we hope to build for the future. These present reflections are intended to resist that temptation and to encourage continu-ing efforts to form and live and sustain community. Forming Community In the apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata (hereafter VC), Pope John Paul II writes: "Consecrated persons are asked to be true experts of communion and to practice the spirituality of communion as 'witnesses and architects of the plan for unity which is the crowning point of human history in God's design'" (§46). This is a significant challenge; to be "true experts" at almost anything in our world is a considerable achievement. Being expert practitioners in the spirituality of communion calls for more. John Paul's understanding of communion is incarna-tional: communion does not exist apart from those who strive to live it daily. The etymology of the word "expert" provides an important insight. Often the term is used in a static way, indicating an acquired ability needing little if any further development. The root meaning, however, is quite dynamic: an expert is one who tries and who learns by trying. As a person's ability matures, there are always new approaches to try and new things to learn. The words experiment and experience have the same root. One way, then, of becoming experts in communion is through our experiments and experiences in community. We must keep try-ing and keep learning. Community is never finished. Review f

Issue 60.4 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; tiving i:iturgy dialogue ~ ~ormation meeting God JULY AUGUST 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 4 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 ¯ ~¥eb 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. 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 co~nmercial 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. ~ fe0 rVreligious 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 McD6nough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm J.udy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ JULY AUGUST 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 4 contents 342 living liturgy Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective: A Capuchin Look Edward Foley, Capuchin, proposes that shaping a liturgical ecosystem for a community includes creating a rhythm of corporate worship that provides space, time, and energy for private prayer and devotion. 365 377 dialogue Being a Hermit: W~nere and How? Kenneth C. Russell sees present-day hermits as needing, for practicality's sake, to build their lives out of solitude and humble earnings understood in tandem. Learning a Foreign Language: Continuing the Dialogue on Homosexuality Christopher Renz OP considers the continuing dialogue a way for all to find their deepest human identity in the God they seek to know better. formation 387 Reflections of a Novice Director George J. Auger CSV pictures the kind of candidates coming to religious life and why, and then proposes what we should be offering them. Review for Religious 397 What Can a Seminary Do? Donald Macdonald SMM develops the notion of a seminary as a place where individuals are helped to mature within a gospel framework. 408 Commitment to Faithfulness Elizabeth McDonough OP briskly reminds herself and other religious that God's faithfulness through the changes and tensions of thirty-some years calls them today to the same fidelity their vows joyously witnessed to on the day of their first profession. 413 419 Flames of Love: Living Contemplatively Carolyn Humphreys OCDS describes holiness in terms of living a contemplative life, that is, an adventure in love. An Experience of Christian Meditation Ernest E. Larkin OCarm offers some theological observation, simple personal description, and succinct analysis of his own experience of the Christian Meditation of John Main OSB. 338 Prisms 432 Canonical Counsel: Renewal of Vows and Perpetual Profession 438 Book Reviews July-August 200 t prisms Ppe J~)hn Paul II has declared more men and women blessed and canonized saints than any of his predecessors in the papacy. He himself has explained his action by saying that we are more than ever in need of many models--some from within our countries or cultures, others closer in time--to aid us in our own Christian living. We also might suspect that the need for recognition of holy women and men as models and helps for our life is heightened by the individualism that has become embedded in our United States culture and similar cul-tures. When we move about in a cultural individualism, there is a tendency to make even our faith an individual conquest. "I" will save my soul--of course, with Jesus' saving grace. But still it is "my" effort. From the very beginning of the Christian com munity, St. Paul stressed the importance of our being a communion of saints. Although Paul's Greek word koinonia is rendered by the English fellowship more often than the English communion, the idea cannot be mistaken. Paul's conversion experience on the road to Damascus would never let him waver from the conviction that the (persecuted) Christians' union together with Christ is so intimate that Jesus can say "I am Jesus, the one you are persecuting." That same experience roots the Pauline image of the Body of Christ in which all Christians are members, differing in gifts and functions, but all being necessary for the healthy functioning of the Body. Review for Religious The reality that we need to hold on to today is the truth that "we all need one another." The communion of saints reminds us of this fact. As it has developed over time, the communion of saints refers first to us baptized and now living our seemingly humdrum lives within our church communities. The communion of saints means also those who have died and are officially recognized by the church as the holy ones giving example for us. The communion of saints includes finally those who have died--sometimes identified as the "souls in purgatory"--many of whom we remember dearly and who for their part still remain caring and concerned for us. The fullness of the meaning of the communion of saints keeps all of us caring and concerned for one another--in our union with Christ and in the power of the Spirit. In our creed, we profess that we believe in the "sanctorum communio"---that is, not only a union among holy people but also a people made holy by their participation (communio) in holy things (the sacraments). Today we are being called to put that belief into action. In our remembering those who have died, both the recog-nized saints and those everyday ones of our families and friends, we are joined in a conversation--a special conversation that has been traditionally called prayer--praying for one another! We need to be aware of the stories of their lives so that we can know and feel their strength and their compassion and their receiving of God's grace through participation in the sacramental life. We, the now-members of this church on earth, must hold one another in prayer, both public liturgical and personal private, and reach out with helpful hands to one another because we are in communion, the union of holy ones sustained by holy things. We are not alone; we live our life of faith in communion. David L. Fleming SJ P.S. Our advisory board--one concrete instance of the communion of saints--says a goodbye full of gratitude to Sister Kathryn Richards FSP, Father Joel Rippinger OSB, and Sister Patricia Wittberg SC on the completion of their terms. We welcome with thanks Sister Raymond Marie Gerard FSP, Father Eugene Hensell OSB, Father Ernest E. Larkin OCarm, and Sister Miriam D. Ukeritis csJ. ff~uly-August 2001 EDWARD FOLEY Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective: A Capuchin Look living liturgy The teaching of the Catholic Church on the Eucharist is both clear and challenging. As the primary sacrament of the church, the Eucharist, like the liturgy itself, is the "font and summit of the church's life." Therein, how-ever, lies a certain paradox, for how are both the whole of the church's liturgy and the Eucharist itself the fount and summit of the church's life? Sometimes our response to this mystery is to oppose various aspects of the church's liturgy, one against another: Eucharist vs. the Liturgy of the Hours, Eucharistic liturgy vs. Eucharistic devotions, and so forth. The tension in such pairings appears in the shaping of an horarium for community prayer. Sometimes an horarium has little place for any-thing but the celebration of Eucharist; other times community prayer makes little space for the celebration of Eucharist. Maybe there is another way. This is a time of unusual theological ferment and liturgical turmoil, specifically regarding the role and manner of celebrating the Eucharist. Exceedingly diver-gent understandings of Eucharist mark the present-day Edward Foley OFMCap, a professor of theology, wrote this position paper (here somewhat revised and abridged) for three Capuchin provinces. Its reflections may well have relevance for others too. Foley's address is Catholic Theological Union; 5601 South Cornell Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60615. Revie~ for Religious Catholic Church. In this global, ecclesial, and Capuchin context, the following reflections cannot resolve all differences. The mod-est goal here is to provide some theological and pastoral principles as a basis for dialogue in full view of our commonalties and dif-ferences. Though addressing specifically Capuchin life and prayer, these principles may be helpful to members of other religious com-munities too. There is no little irony in the fact that contemporary exchanges about this central sacrament of love have been among the most cantankerous, even vitriolic, that the modern church has witnessed. The differences in eucharistic theologies among Catholics have often degenerated into questioning others' moral integrity and even challenging of their fidelity to the church. For the followers of Francis, there is another way. Embracing our founder as a true vir catholicus,2 we assume that those who profess to follow the gospel after him are also viri catholici. Thus, trusting in the authen-tic Catholicity of our brothers, "let us cultivate mutual dialogue [and] let the spirit of brotherly understanding and sincere esteem permeate everyone." 3 Theological and Pastoral Principles Among the many theological and pastoral principles that are important for reflecting on the Eucharist in the lives of 2 lst-cen-tury Capuchins, six seem particularly important. Liturgy as fount and summit. As previously noted, the Second Vatican Council asserts that the liturgy is the fount and summit of the church's life.4 This pivotal dogmatic assertion is often recast in the language of theologia prima. Recognizable across the Christian traditions (asserted by Catholics,5 Protestants,6 and Orthodox7 alike in this postconciliar era), this ancient belief holds that the act of worship is the church's first theology and a prized expression of our faith and our dogma. Liturgy as expressive and creative. A corollary of the dogmatic assertion about the liturgy as fount and summit of the church's life is that worship not only expresses the church's faith but also creates it. While the former is readily recognized, the implica-tions of the latter are seldom acknowledged. To admit worship as creative and generative of faith and belief is to say that worship not onl~ announces what has been accomplished, but also proclaims what is yet to be achieved. Our common prayer is just as much July-August 2001 Foley * Eucharistic Praxi~ in Ecolog~cM Perspective about our future as it is about the present or the past. Worship is thus a critical and corporate rehearsal of the church's mission and is essentially formative for all Christians and all Capuchins, whether they are in initial or ongoing formation. Liturgy is for people as well as for God. Liturgy's expressive-creative power is directed not only to God, but to people as well. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy repeatedly connects "human sanctification" and "God's glorification" when it speaks of the purpose of the liturgy,s In most of these formulations, the sanctification of people is actually mentioned before the glorification of God. While this might strike some as odd if not problematic, implicit in this ordering of the text is the ancient Christian understanding that, while liturgy (in order to be true to its nature) must give glory to God, God is not in need of the liturgy or sacraments; only people are. Thomas Aquinas, like 6ther Christian theologians throughout the ages, affirms the perfection of God,9 who is in need of nothing from humanity, while affirming that human beings need sacraments,l° Furthermore, giving priority to the sanctification of people in worship acknowl-edges God's initiative in the liturgy and admits that our glorifying response is secondary. Thus the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that the signs and symbols of the liturgy "can become means of expressing the action of God who sanctifies men, and the action of men who offer worship to God" (§1148). Liturgy must address human need in its cultural context. For wor-ship to achieve effectively the sanctification of people, it must address their local cultural contexts. The church is always made present in a given place and time by a local church through its liturgy,n In each setting the rites "need to be adapted to the capac-ity of the faithful.''12 If culture is "the whole of human activity, human intelligence and emotions,''~3 then attending to human need in its cultural context requires consideration of ethnic and linguistic differences and attention to the broad diversity that marks any and every worshiping community?4 It is only by respect-ing the local contexts that the liturgy will meet the magisterium's variously articulated criterion that worship "be meaningful and appealing to the body of worshipers." ~s Liturgical practice heeds to be understood within our pluriform tradition. A myth of Christian beginnings is that Christianity was born in unity and moved toward pluriformity. The opposite is true, however. The noted biblical scholar Raymond Brown could Review for Religious write about the churches--not church--the apostles left behind26 The diversity of early liturgical practice appears in the fact that a common institution narrative cannot be found across the New Testament.17 Regarding issues like the frequency of eucharistic celebration, the tradition is similarly diverse. In primitive, patristic, and even early-medieval Christianity, there seems to be no common pattern for the celebration of daily Eucharist. It certainly was not part of early Christian monasticism.~s It is only in the 8th century that there is evidence for daily Eucharist for the church of Rome, and then only during the solemn season of Lent. 19 Fasting in this period presumed fasting from Eucharist; this concept of "fasting from Eucharist" for the sake of a later heightened experience of Eucharist marks the spirituality of various individuals; groups, and movements in the church and is an instance of one among var-ious ways of valuing Eucharist.2°~As to our Franciscan tradition, daily Eucharist does not appear to be a presumed part of the ear-liest vision of Francis for his community, though there is a pre-sumption of a daily celebration of the Divine Office.2~ Well into the Middle Ages, some communities of religious had an ordinary horarium that did not include the daily Eucharist, but rather a Communion service, as attested by various medieval ordines for Communion without celebration of the Eucharist.22 Even today, for significant segments of the Catholic Church, daily Eucharist has never been the norm.23 Our liturgical tradition is dynamic. In order to contribute to people's sanctification according to their particular needs in their particular culture, our liturgical tradition must be living and dynamic. Our Franciscan history demonstrates the dynamic nature of the church's liturgical tradition in response to the prophetic. For example, Innocent III and the Roman curia granted Francis and his followers the unprecedented permission to develop as a community of penitential preachers. Until that time, permission for groups to do itinerant preaching and to practice mendicant poverty In primitive, patristic, and even early-medieval Christianity, there seems to be no common pattern for the celebration of daily Eucharist. July-August 2001 Foley * Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective had been extended only to established communities previously declared heretical and now being reunited with the church.24 Francis's "novel" request and prophetic vision to live the idea of evangelical perfection, however, both challenged and changed the church's tradition regarding who can and should preach. Admitting the diverse and dynamic nature of our tradition suggests that shaping worship patterns cannot be reduced to find-ing the answer from the past, but instead requires us to make care-ful decisions--not only drawing upon but also contributing to the church's ever evolving tradition. An Ecological Vision of Liturgical Praxis One cannot appropriately discuss the Eucharist in the life of any Christian without seeing it in the life .of the church. After asserting that the whole of the liturgy and not just the Eucharist is the fount and summit of the church's life, Vatican II then notes the special importance of Eucharist within the liturgical economy.2s Asserting this, however, is ipso facto to assert the rela-tionality of the Eucharist to the other sacraments, to the rest of the church's liturgy, and to the whole of the church's life as well. Included are the Liturgy of the Hours, sacramentals, and popular devotions. Endorsing popular devotions, the council directs that these devotions "should be so fashioned that they harmonize with the liturgical seasons, accord with the sacred liturgy, are in some way derived from it, and lead the people to it.''26 I propose to consider this liturgical relationality by means of an ecological metaphor. A relatively new science, ecology studies the relationship of plants and animals to their physical and bio-logical environment.27 Among its major emphases is the depen-dence of every form of life on other living things and on the natural resources in its environment--an insight already recorded in the writings of Charles Darwin (+1892). While it may seem odd to employ what could be considered a naturalistic framework for reflecting on Catholic worship,'recent developments in theology suggest otherwise. Since the late 20th century, theologians around the world have recognized the link between social harmony and ecoharmony and shown the impor-tance of an ecological perspective.2s In 1988 a consultation by the World Council of Churches recognized what they called the integrity of creation, that is, "the value of all creatures in and for Review for Religious 'themselves, for one another, and for God, and their intercon-nectedness in a diverse whole that has unique value for God.''29 Theologies of ecology, according to Robert Schreiter, are a major flow in contemporary global theological discourse.3° Recendy the ecological perspective has been employed in liturgical theology?' For Franciscans the ecological perspective comes from the spiri-tuality of our Father Francis, who our constitutions remind us "felt united by a fraternal bond not only to people but to all crea-tures as well" (§97:1) and whom the church has proclaimed the patron saint of ecology. Here it will be useful to offer a few ecological principles to facilitate our using the ecological metaphor when speaking of community worship: ¯ Changes made in any environment affect all of the organisms in that environment. ¯ The continued existence of a whole group or life community involves a shifting balance or "dynamic equilibrium" among its members. ¯ A community and its environment constitute an ecosystem which draws vital materials from its surroundings and transfers materials to it, ¯ Competition, a characteristic of all communities, is unusually keen in areas where one type of community overlaps with another. ¯ An orderly, predictable sequence of development or "ecological succession" takes place in any area. With these principles it becomes clear that no one liturgical element in a community's liturgical ecosystem can be modified or eliminated without the other liturgical elements in the life of a faith community being affected. Just as apparendy inconsequential species of fauna or animal life contribute to the health of an ecosystem and cannot be altered or eliminated without creating an imbalance, so is it advisable to consider the whole of a faith community's public prayer life from perspectives of holistic health and balance. All the elements are interrelated. This means, for example, that considering the frequency of Eucharistic liturgies separately is inadequate. Not to consider them in relation to the Liturgy of the Hours could unintentionally diminish the latter, which is important to the life of the church and our brotherhood. Furthermore, given the foundational prin-ciple that worship shapes faith and is essentially formative, an isolated emphasis on Eucharist could give Capuchins an impaired perspective on the nature of Christ's presence and inadequate experiences of the multiple modes of his presence as dogmatically asserted by Vatican II.32 July-August 2001 Foley * Eucharistic PraMs in Ecological Perspective In shaping a liturgical ecology for any community, a number of elements need to be kept in balance. One is frequency of cele-bration. The issue of frequency needs to be raised about all elements of worship and not .just the Eucharist. Another issue is quality for each and every ritual element in a community's life of faith. Quality is affected by the amount of time both ministers and community have in preparing for worship and also by the resources available in that preparation. A third issue is continuity across the ritual life of a community. Each facet of a community's prayer life should reflect the quality and richness of the ritual resources avail-able to a community. Music, multilingual prayer patterns, ritual gestures, enhanced environment, and so forth should not be limited to one element in a community's worship repertoire, but should enhance the whole of its liturgical life. These resources need to be shared so that one element of a community's prayer does not drain all of its energy and resources, reducing the remaining elements to secondary experiences. Such continuity respects the principle of progressive solemnity,33 which admits a certain rhythm of more or less festivity, more or less simplicity, according to the day or the season. Shaping a liturgical ecosystem for a community includes creating a rhythm of corporate worship that provides space, time, and energy for private prayer and devotion. This is essential if corporate worship is to be truly life-giving and spiritually nour-ishing. The rhythm, quality, balance, and intensity of corporate prayer cannot be so overwhelming or burdensome that it hinders personal lives of prayer. An authentically hea!thy liturgical ecology not only requires a rhythmic balance of frequency, quality, continuity, shared resources, and progressive solemnity in a faith community's worship, but also in the whole of its life. Recall that the council has said that the liturgy is the fount and summit of the church's life, not simply its worship. Liturgical spiritualities are not shaped in a vacuum, but emerge and flourish in the interplay of liturgy and life. This vital connection is clearly shown in the New Testament, where the Greek words leitourgia (service) and leitourgein (to serve) do not occur as isolated terms for worship, They also refer to the missionary proclamation of the gospel, taking up a collection for the poor, and even the state's function as appointed by God.34 Commenting on this New Testament language, Ferdinand Hahn says that "the terminological evidence means not only that any Review for Religious cultic understanding of Christian worship is out of the question, but also that there is no longer any distinction in principle between assembly for worship and the service of Christians in the world."" Karl Rahner speaks about this living service of Christians as the "liturgy of the world," the name he gives to that "terrible and sub-lime liturgy, breathing of death and sacrifice, which God cele-brates through the length and breadth of human history.''36 Following upon the belief that God's self-communication (grace) is always present in the world, Rahner believes that every genuinely human experience at least implicitly mediates God's self-communication to us. Concerned that--unlike the experience of the early Christian community--liturgy today is too isolated from the rest of reality, Rahner poses the whole of human life as a kind of "liturgy." When we gather for the church's explicit public worship, according to Rahner, we are not doing something apart from what we are called to do in the rest of our lives. Thus "the liturgy of the church is the explicit manifestation of the implicit liturgy of our lives.''3~ An ecoliturgical approach to worship, then, demands not only a balance of resources, time, energy, quality, and continuity across the cultic aspects of a community's life, but also between cult and living, between liturgy and life. It is such an image that comes to us in that idyllic picture of early Christian living from the Book of Acts: They devoted themselves to the apostles' instruction and the communal life, to the breaking of bread and the prayers . Those who believed shared all things in com-mon; they would sell their property and goods, dividing everything on the basis of each one's need. They went to the temple area together every day, while in their homes they broke bread. With exultant and sincere hearts they took their meals in common, praising God and winning the approval of all the people. Day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved. (2:42-47) A Capuchin Ecology of Liturgy: The Components According to our constitutions, there is a foundational triad for any authentic Capuchin liturgical ecosystem: Eucharist, the Liturgy of the Hours, and contemplation. The Eucharist. Regarding the Eucharist, the constitutions call for full, conscious, and active participation in the Eucharistic sac-rifice (§48:1). They instruct that in our fraternities a community July-August 2001 Foley ¯ Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective Mass should be celebrated each day, and, where this cannot be done each day, it should be celebrated periodically and partici-pated in by all brothers (§48:2). Notable in this'instruction is the emphasis on appropriate preparation (§47:3), active participation (§48:1), and especially the building up of the fraternity (§§47:1, 2, 3; 48:2, 5). It is reasonable, therefore, to conclude that, while our constitutions present daily Eucharist as the ideal, it is not one to be achieved at any cost. Eucharistic celebrations without deliberate preparation, a spirit of "creativity and spontaneity" (§47:3), and especially a rhythm of celebrating Eucharist that does not contribute to the building up of the experience38 of fraternity is to be avoided. This last emphasis on the Eucharist's contribution to a spirit of fraternity takes on new meaning as we become increas-ingly aware of the way that our order was clericalized early in its history, and today are conversely experiencing a renewal of the foundational vocation of brotherhood. The Liturgy of the Hours. As for the Liturgy of the Hot~rs, our constitutions call for the daily celebration of the church's prayer, and, where it cannot be celebrated in its entirety, at least Morning and Evening Prayer are to be celebrated (§50:2). Besides this "house obligation," there is the further canonical requirement that all fri-ars in major orders and solemn vows are bound to pray the Liturgy of the Hours. Embedded in the instruction and laws regarding the Liturgy of the Hours is a series of important principles. Consistent with their instruction on Eucharist, our constitutions again empha-size how the Liturgy of the Hours contributes to building up the fraternity (§§47:2; 50:2, 5)--thus the importance of communal rather than individual celebration of the Hours. Beyond the brotherhood, however, the constitutions also recognize that the Liturgy of the Hours is the prayer of the whole church and recommends that, according to local circumstances, the Liturgy of the Hours should be celebrated with the faithful (§50:3). Finally, it is again notable that, when discussing the Liturgy of the Hours, our constitutions speak about not only frequency but also quality of celebration. Building on the concept of Franciscan prayer as "affective," the constitutions talk about the word of God in the Liturgy of the Hours penetrating our hearts (§51:2). To that end, these celebrations are to be "living and vibrant, with praiseworthy intervals of silence" (§51:2) and, as far as possible, celebrated with song (§51:3). Mental Prayer Our constitutions say that mental prayer is an essential spiritual exercise of the brothers and should be practiced Review for Religious daily (§52:3). The constitutions note that this exercise of mental prayer not only unites us individually with Christ, but also contributes to the efficaciousness of the corporate experiences of the Sacred Liturgy (§52:2). The constitutions expend a consider-able amount of energy exhorting the brothers to engage in con-templation and, in particular, charges superiors and local chapters with fostering this spirit of prayer (§§52:4; 53:3, 4). They also encourage the brothers to cultivate this spirit of prayer among the people of God (§53:6). What is somewhat surprising, however, is that the constitutions do not give much attention to the fraternal aspects of mental prayer or examine how contemplation has corporate as well as individual benefits and builds up the fraternity. Devotions. Besides this foundational triad of Eucharist, Liturgy of the Hours, and mental prayer, the constitutions give some atten-tion to devotions. In particular, they note the importance of devotion to the mysteries of the humanity of Christ, especially his nativity and passion (§54:2). They encourage us to venerate Mary, our mother and patroness, especially through liturgical wor-ship and the rosary (§54:3). They encourage us to venerate St. Joseph (§54:4), our holy Father Francis, and the saints, especially Franciscan saints (§54:5). They note the importance of reading Sacred Scripture and other spiri-tual books (§58:1). Echoing the teaching of the council, the constitutions wisely say that these devotions should always be in conformity with the spirit of the liturgy. And they are consistent in emphasizing that recollection and contemplation, especially apparent in the gift of silence, should mark our prayer (§57~ 1). A rhythm of celebrating Eucharist that does not contribute to the building up of the experience of fraternity is to be avoided. A Capuchin Ecology of Liturgy: The Principles Following basic laws of nature, every healthy ecosystem achieves its own natural equilibrium of the given particulars. So too does every healthy liturgical ecosystem, balancing particulars according to the basic principles of liturgy and Christian life. In pursuing this reflection on liturgy in Capuchin life, let us look at :~dy-dugust 2001 Foley * Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective certain particularities of our Capuchin charism, of our various ecclesial and provincial contexts. Fraternity. Few images permeate our tradition as much as that of fraternity. Our constitutions not only stress the cultivation of fraternal life among members of the order (§§84-96), but actually approach all of humanity (§83) and even all of creation (§11:2) fraternally. A Capuchin ecology is a.fraternal ecology, and broth-erhood is a privileged way that Capuchins perceive each other, the church, all human beings, and every creature. Our constitutions recognize, too, that the liturgy must nourish our fraternal life (§47:1); it must be the fount and summit of our fraternal life. For fostering brotherhood throughout the order, the province, and the local community, the constitutions mention "common prayer" first (§11:3). They also suggest that growth in fraternity and the flourishing of fraternal charity become an important criterion for evaluating a community or province's prayer life. If the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy could say that "the full and active participation by all the people is the aim to be considered before all else,''39 analogously it seems appropriate to suggest that fraternal development among Capuchin brothers is the aim to be considered before all else in a Capuchin ¯ liturgical ecology. If growth in fraternal charity is a necessary outcome of authentic Capuchin worship, then worship must not only intend to enhance fraternity, but must do so in fact. Worship needs to satisfy certain human needs if it is to be an effective source of sanctification. What differentiates liturgy after Vatican II from that of the previous period is the contemporary emphasis on pe.rformance that actually satisfies this human need, rather than simply intending to do so. Intention is important but insufficient. There are few more telling statements of this principle than the United States bishops' assertion that "good celebrations foster and nourish faith; poor celebrations may weaken and destroy it.''4° In the "performance" of our common worship, therefore, it is essential that our patterns of prayer support the fraternal hospitality and inclusivity which are the hallmarks of our life. Given that the official liturgy of the church is traditionally a clerical domain, there is a special responsibility among Capuchins to develop prayer patterns that are inclusive of the nonordained. While ordained brothers may not intend to marginalize nonor-dained brothers, it can and does happen. The advice of the U.S. Review for Religious bishops directed to preachers is useful to ponder here: "If exclu-sion is heard, then exclusion is communicated, whether intended or not."41 More pointed is the language of the Fourth Plenary Council of the order (CPO IV), which expresses concern about "a community of priests who draw inspiration from Franciscan spir-ituality., without sufficient discernment" and therefore risk pro-pelling the order towards increasing clericalization" rather than being "a fraternity of lesser brothers endeavoring to live the gospel.''42 Minority. A pivotal concept for the essence of Capuchin fraternity is that of "lesser brothers." Minority, as outlined by CPO VI, is "a genuine manifestation of interior poverty, which in the Franciscan life-project also expresses itself externally as humility of heart and lack of power, and as solidarity with the needy and the deprived.''43 As noted by the gen-eral ministers of the First Order and the Third Order Regular (TOR), while the Franciscan order at its foundation was in fact a mixed institute, Francis did not intend to retain both cleric broth-ers and lay brothers as necessary components of the fraternity. The general ministers conclude: "In order to be 'religious' according to Francis's project, a 'lesser brother' does not need to be either cleric or lay."44 If all future applicants sought to be one or the other, the order's foundational concept would be undisturbed. The Second Plenary Council of the order challenged us "to pray as lesser brothers.''~s This challenge is to pray and live out that prayer in such a way as to avoid any and every impression of the superiority of one brother over another. Maintaining this spirit is a particular challenge in the context of Eucharistic worship, which many in recent years have experienced as.a source of oppression, not grace.46 Eucharistic leadership is not a right but a privilege. In a Capuchin context, it must contribute to the sense of meekness and minority among all the brothers. Only then will it fulfill the vision of CPO II, which imaged prayer--especially the Eucharist-- as an act of conversiono47 If that is not a fruit of Eucharistic or any other worship, the worship is for naught and actually diminishes the fraternal bond. The personal preferences and prerogatives of A pivotal concept for the essence of Capuchin fraternity is that of "lesser brothers." July-August 2001 the ordained, then, should not dominate any aspect of a Capuchin liturgical ecology. Rather, the ordained brothers need to under-stand and accept that in the liturgy they are special servants48 and that their concern is "the common spiritual good of the people of God [and all the brothers]49 rather than., personal inclination or arbitrary choice." so A Mixed Community. One recent contribution to understanding Capuchin life that can help in shaping a Capuchin liturgical ecology is the language of a "mixed institute." Pope John Paul II used this language in his letter to our minister general, John Corriveau, when he recognized that the Capuchins "constitute a fraternity made up of clerics and lay people who share the same religious vocation according to the Capuchin and Franciscan charism.''~ Mixed communities, according to the postsynodal apostolic exhortation l, qta consecrata, are .institutes "envisaged as a brotherhood in which all members, priests and those who [are] not priests, [are] considered equal among themselves."52 Some of the brothers, admittedly, 'think that the language of "mixed institutes" is not the best way to consider our life together. At the same time, th~ image of a mixed institute or community has a certain apostolic breadth that is lacking in our language of fraternity or minority. Our constitutions exhort us to "strive to nourish our spiritual life and that of the fraternity from the liturgy and .to open its treasures to the faithful" (§47:1). In a parallel vein, the Fourth Plenary Council of the order said that the aim of formation was to have men capable of living the gospel life in the worldS3--which implies that they be capable of praying and worshiping with all the p~ople of God, not just Capuchins. Most of the faithful in the Catholic world and most secular Franciscans are not "brothers" but "sisters." And so "fraternity" is not the best term to suggest our desire to share the treasures of the liturgy with them. Also, the terms "lesser ones" :and "minority" can be perceived as contributing to condescension towards and oppression of vast numbers of our sisters and brothers whom the world daily percei'(es as less valuable politically, economically, and personally and "minor" in worldly importance. The prophetic language of a "mixed community," whilenot suggesting fraternity and minority, does propel us into an apos-tolic mode regarding our liturgical ecology. If worship is .the fount of all Christian life, then it must also be the fount of Capuchin ministry and fratern)ty. The liturgy is a type of "rehearsal" of the Review for Religious Christian life. Rehearsal, in this sense, is neither the dramatic enactment of some long-finished historical event nor an imper-fect repetition of some act in order to get it right. Rather, it is a continual reentry into and appropriation of a rich and inexhaustible reality. Rehearsal so imagined is neither artificial nor preparatory; rather, it is ritual engagement with the truth. To rehearse, in the liturgy, our vocation as a mixed community is, therefore, to rehearse not only fraternity and minority among us Capuchin brothers, but also mutuality and collaboration among all the people of God.54 It is to announce prophetically the equal dignity of all the baptized in a "mixed" church and to honor each as integral and necessary to the church's worship. This is the "becoming" .and "living" of alternatives to oppression in a liturgical mode which CPO V called for?~ If we can tune our prayer life with sensitivity to the mixed community that is the church and can craft worship that is empathetic to all the baptized, thbse accomplishments will redound to the building up of the Capuchin fraternity and further realize our charism of minority. A Capuchin Ecology of Liturgy: The Contexts Besides considering the components and basic principles of a Capuchin liturgical ecology, it is important for us to look at the particular context which--given the ecological interconnectedness noted above--must impact one's own particular community's wor-ship, I will use my own context to illustrate this point. I belong to the St. Joseph (Midwest)Capuchin province in the United States. Two aspects of this context have a notable impact on shaping a Capuchin ecology for my province. One is the declining number of priests, especially apparent in the midwest and western United States. The other is a formation program that my province shares with the St. Mary province in the eastern United States and the Mary Mother of the Good Shepherd province in Canada. Working collaboratively .on initial formation has challenged my province to think interprovincially regarding continuing formation as well. I will flesh out some of the implications. The Broader Ministerial Situation. One context we must consider is the broader liturgical landscape of the church in which we are called to serve so that we can form and sustain men who are both comfortable and effective in that landscape. Of particular note in the United States is the declining number of active priests in the Jul)'-AUgltSt 2001 Foley * Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective U.S. and Canada and the growing phenomenon of Sunday Assemblies in the Absence of a Priest.s6 This reality grows in magnitude the further one moves away from the northeastern seaboard and travels west and south. For many people in the U.S. and Canada, not only is daily Eucharist an impossibility, but Sunday Eucharist is less and less frequent. Both the U.S. and Canadian bishops have issued ritu-als for Sunday Assemblies in the Absence of a Priest, The dif-ference between the two rituals demonstrates the wide range of possible responses to the shifting ecclesial landscape. What is most striking in this regard is the prominence the U.S.ritual gives to Holy Communion as a presumed' and integral part of the Sunday service in the absence of,the priest, whereas the Canadian ritual gives Holy Communion a secondary emphasis in its ritual,s7 Given this context, our minority can call us both to help people gather for Eucharist and also to stand in solidarity with them when they are forced to fast from Eucharist because of a lack of priests. The Formation Context. The other context for us Midwest Capuchins to consider in forming a healthy liturgical ecology is the joint formation setting (postulancy, novitiate, and year of integra-tion) that my province shares with two other provinces. The three provinces together stretch for several thousand miles, from Montana to Massachusetts. Distinctive ecclesial and community cultures are apparent across the vast populations of Catholics that we serve. Worship is often a focal point for these differences. This is especially true in a joint house of formation, where the expec-tation is that young Capuchins will be shaped in prayer patterns that not only' are credible for them but also will not create disso-nance with others in their home provinces, Like the liturgy, formation is about both the present and the future. Worship is not formation per se, but it is formative. Worship has an essential role to play in initial formation, as in all Capuchin life. For those in initial formation, however, worship serves some distinctively different functions from those it serves for Capuchins in continuing formation. Worship, for Capuchins as for all other Christians, is of course for their sanctification and God's glorification. In initial formation, however, it has the added functions of acclimating and sensitizing beginners to lifelong rit-ualizing in a fraternal, minorite, mixed religious community. Furthermore, in my particular context, it has the function Of shap- Revie~v for Religious ing future ministers to serve in the diverse and shifting liturgical landscape of the North American church. Consequently, a liturgical ecology for Capuchins in our initial formation program must respond not only to the needs of the can-didates but also to the needs of the local Capuchin com.munity, and must also successfully expose them to the range of official worship patterns that currently mark the North American church. Furthermore, their worship should help beginning Capuchins not only in their personal prayer life but also in acquiring skills in liturgical planning and leader-ship. Beginners should develop more than toleration for various worship patterns. They should develop the litur-gical flexibility necessary for flourishing and ministering within those patterns. While it is possible to generalize about the worship needs of men in initial forma-tion, there is also ~normous diversity that must be taken into account. The somewhat leisurely, almost idyllic setting for novitiate, for example, is quite different from the frenetic pattern often apparent in a house where our simply professed are attending school. The centripetal momentum of the former is clearly different from the centrifugal forces of the latter. Thus, important nuancing and even differen-tiation in the patterns of a liturgical ecosystem seem to be required. One size does not fit all here. CPO IV speaks of initial formation as a process of apprentice-ship which initiates one into the proper balance between fraternal life, prayer, and workY If this apprenticeship is to be "organic," as cPO 1v suggests,s9 and in continuity with the fullness of Capuchin life, then the prayer patterns of any house of formation must be in continuity with the fullness of Capuchin prayer as well. Life and prayer in houses of formation must be considered in concert with the life and prayer of all the houses of the province. The Provincial and Interprovincial Context. An ecological perspective sees all worship patterns within the larger provincial The expectation is that young Capuchins will be shaped in prayer patterns that not only are credible for them but also will not create dissonance with others in their home provinces. ¯ Fo~ " Eucharistic Praxis in Ecolo~cal Perspective and interprovincial ecology we call Capuchin life. No house is an isolated liturgical ecosystem, but is part of a larger Capuchin environment. A sound liturgical ecology within any house, there-fore, must be in relation to the liturgical ecology of the province (which CPO IV calls the "the prime fraternity"6°) or provinces in which it exists. Otherwise a single community (for. example, the novitiate house) can be reduced to a hothouse, and the chances of successful transplant--or ecological succession--anywhere else in the community will be seriously diminished. Prayer patterns across a province should be familiar, hospitable, and of such quality that they beckon any friar who would visit that house to share in the prayer. Provincial leadership, and not simply a single house or two, has primary responsibility for addressing the health of the entire provincial and even interprovincial liturgical ecosystem. This means that prayer life, prayer leadership, prayer quality, prayer frequency, and prayer commitment are concerns for all members of a province and of all the provinces. These are con-tinuing- formation issues. To expend energy only on the liturgical life of specially designated "houses of prayer," retreat centers, or houses of initial formation, and not expend the same energy on the other communities contradicts the principles of fraternity, minority, and mixed communities articulated above. Suggestions for a Liturgical Ecosystem for Capuchins We have provided some fundamental theological and pastoral principles, introduced the concept of a liturgical ecology, and noted the unique components and principles of Capuchin life. We have also noted the need to address the specific Capuchin context in which a liturgical prayer pattern must be shaped. What follows is a recapitulation and an array of specific suggestions. General Liturgical Principles ¯ Quality61 is as important as frequency in shaping worship patterns. ¯ Some prerequisite factors for sustaining that quality are sufficient time for preparation, especially for the various min-isters; sufficient time for celebration, allowing for appropriate periods, of silence; sufficient energy for celebration so that a spirit of "creativity and spontaneity" marks the worship. ¯ Continuity across various worship forms is essential. ¯ Resources of time, energy, and the various liturgical arts need be shared across the vai'ious liturgical celebrations of a community's life. ¯ The principle Review for Religious of progressive solemnity needs to be observed, so that there is a reasonable and effective rhythm of celebration in each house of formation. ¯ Creativity, spontaneity, and a spirit of contemplation need to mark this worship. ¯ Eucharist, the Liturgy of the Hours, and contemplation are the foundational triad for community prayer. ¯ It is the local community that is best able to assess its needs, and thus is the primary agent for setting its prayer horar-ium. ¯ Capuchins in initial formation need to be exposed to the central worship forms of the people to whom they will be minis-tering in the future. ¯ Continuity of values, quality, frequency, and resources are necessary across a province (and sometimes among provinces) for the integrity of a liturgical ecology. Eucharist ¯ A rhythm of quality daily community Eucharist is the ordinary ideal for Capuchins. ¯ Besides the general prerequisite factors for sustaining this quality noted above, quality daily com-munity Eucharist also requires a sufficient number of competent62 ordained brothers to share the leadership of presiding. ¯ Sunday Eucharist, as the central worship act of the church, is more prop-erly celebrated with the larger ecclesial community. ¯ On some occasions other than Sunday, it is~appropriate for the brothers to have their need for Eucharist served by the wider ecclesial com-munity. ¯ On some occasions Communion services are an appro-priate communal prayer experience for the brothers. ¯ On some occasions "fasting" from Eucharist is appropriate in order to heighten a forthcoming Eucharistic celebration, for example, fasting from Eucharist on the vigil of a great feast with an enhanced celebration of First Vespers. ¯ Concelebration is not an absolute canonical right, and is properly regulated by both the ordinary of a diocese and the ordinary of a religious community.63 ¯ Concelebration is a value which must be balanced with other values such as fraternity; it is possible that in some situations con-celebration is not the ideal in 'a Capuchin community; it should not simply be the prerogative'of an individual concelebrant, and must be considered in view of the wider needs of the community. The Liturgy of the Hours ¯ Quality daily celebrations of Morning and Evening Prayer are the ideal for Capuchins. ¯ Besides the general prerequisite factors for sustaining the quality noted above, quality daily cele-brations of Morning and Evening Prayer presume a notable level of musicality. ¯ The Office of Readings is highly recommended July-August 2001 Foley * Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective as a form of individual lectio divina. * The Liturgy of the Hours is sufficiently important that it needs to stand on its own as a central form of community prayer, and thus ordinarily should not be com~ined with the Eucharist as a matter of expediency. Contemplation ¯ The daily exercise of mental prayer.is the ideal for Capuchins. ¯ Besides specific time devoted to mental prayer, a spirit of contemplation should mark community celebrations of Eucharist, the Liturgy of the Hours, and other devotional activities. Popular Devotions ¯ Popular devotions observed by individual friars or local com-munities need to contribute to the overall liturgical health of the community, especially the central triad noted above. ¯ Since such devotions often have strong cultural references, it is often better for the brothers to celebrate such devotions with the cultural and linguistic communities that embrace these devotions (for example, in my own context, the Guadalupe novena and Eucharist are best celebrated with a Latino community).¯ Popular devo-tions are clearly secondary in Capuchin prayer life. Decision Making ¯ Decisions about a local community's liturgical ecology belong to the local community, facilitated by the leadership. ¯ The decision-making process should be in a "convergence" mode (that is, based upon the convergence of the multiple factors which need be considered in planning), rather than a "displacement" mode (that is, focusing on one factor which displaces all other factors in the decision-making process).64 ¯ Decisions about a commu-nity's liturgical ecolbgy are not permanent but cyclic. A process of decision making and evaluation and new decision making is essential for the vitality and renewal of the ecosystem. ¯ The deci-sion- making process should be flexible enough that there is room for proper experimentation and error. Both are part of the cycle of growth and development. Notes ' Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum concilium; here-after CSL), §10. 2 From the first antiphon of First Vespers of the Office of St. Francis, composed by Julian of Speyer and others, Officium S. Francisci, Ad I Vesperas, Antiphonae I, Analecta Franciscana X, p. 375. English translation in Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, Vol. 1, ed. Armstrong et al. (New York: New City Press, 1999), p. 327. Review for Religious 3 Constitutions of the Capuchin Friars Minor, 84:2. 4 CSL §10. s For example, Aidan Kavanagh, On Liturgical Theology (New York: Pueblo, 1984), pp. 3, 8, passim, and David Power, "Cult to Culture: The Liturgical Foundation of Theology," Worship 54, no. 6 (1980): 484. 6 For example, Gordon Lathrop, Holy Things (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1989), p. 5; Don Saliers, Worship as Theology (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994), passim; Geoffrey Wainwright, Doxology (New York: Oxford University Press, 1980), p. 8. 7 Mexander Schmemann, Introduction to Liturgical Theology, 2nd ed. (New York: St. Vladimir Press, 1975), p. 12. 8 For example, §5 speaks of "the work of Christ our Lord in redeem-ing mankind and giving perfect glory to God"; §7, "Christ, indeed, always associates the church with himself in this great work in which God is perfectly glorified and men are sanctified"; §10, "From the liturgy, there-fore, and especially from the Eucharist, grace is poured forth upon us as from a fountain, and the sanctification of men in Christ and the glo-rification of God, to which all other activities of the church are directed as toward their end, are achieved with maximum effectiveness"; §61, "There is scarcely any proper use of material things which cannot thus be directed toward the sanctification of men and the praise of God"; and §112, "the purpose of sacred music, which is the glory of God and the sanctification of the faithful." 9 Summa theologiae I, q.4, aa. 1-3. 1o STIII, q.61, aa.l-4. 1, Congregation for Worship and Sacraments, Inculturation and the Roman Liturgy, §26. 12 Inculturation and the Roman Liturgy, §35; see CSL §34. 13 Pontifical Council for Culture, Toward a Pastoral Approach to Culture, §2. 14 For example, age, class, abilities and disabilities, educational back-ground, theological differences, and devotional needs. is This formulation is taken from the U.S. his.hops' 1972 document (rev. 1983) Music in Catholic Worship, §7. ~6 Raymond Brown, The Churches the Apostle~ Left Behind (New York: Paulist Press, 1984). 17 See, for example, Joachim Jeremias, The Eucharistic Words of Jesus, trans. Norman Perrin (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1977), pp. 138-203. 18 Adalbert de Vogii~, "Le Pr~tre et la Communaut~ monastique dans l'Antiquit~," La Maison-Dieu 115 (1973): 62-65. For one relatively exhaustive treatment of the gradual clericalization of monasteries and introduction of daily Eucharist, see Angelus Albert Hiiussling, "M6nchsKonvent und Eucharistiefeier," Liturgiewissenschaftliche Quellen und Forschungen 58 (Miinster: Aschendorffische Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1973). ffuly-August 2001 Foley * Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective ~9 See Antoine Chavasse, "Les grand cadres de la c~l~bration ~ Rome in Urbe et extra muros jusqu'~ VIIIe si~cle," Revue B~n~dictine 96 (1986): 7-26. 20 See Caroline Walker Bynum, Holy Feast and Holy Fast: The Religious Significance of Food to Medieval Women (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987). Zl See chap. 3 of both The Earlier Rule and The Later Rule in Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, Vol. 1, pp. 65-66 and 101-102; also A Rule for Hermitages, which makes no allowance for Eucharist but only for the Liturgy of the Hours, despite the presumption of three or four broth-ers living together, pp. 61-62. It was only in 1224 that the order was given papal permission to celebrate Mass within community houses, an act that commentators call "a clear testimony to an increasing clerical orientation in the order," p. 562. 22 See Jean Leclercq, "Eucharistic Celebrations without Priests in the Middle Ages," Worship 55, no. 4 (July 1980): 308-325. 23 Many churches in union with Rome (that is, part of the Catholic Church) that follow the Eastern rites limit the celebration of Eucharist to Sundays and major feasts. 24 See the assessment of the originality of the Franciscan project by Herbert Grundmann in his Religious Movements in the Middle Ages, trans. Steven Rowan (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1995), pp. 55-58. 2s "From the liturgy, therefore, particularly the Eucharist, grace is poured forth upon us as from a fountain." CSL §10. 26 CSL ~ 13. 27 Much of what follows is dependent upon the article "Ecology" by E.J. Dyksterhuis, in Compton's Encyclopedia On-Line (http://comp-tonsv3. web.aol.com/current_events/top_science.html), I.X~II.00. 28 See Dianne Bergant, The Earth Is the Lord's: The Bible, Ecology, and Worship (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1998), esp. pp. 14-16. 29 Bergant, Earth, pp. 15-16. 30 Robert Schreiter, The New Catholicity (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1997), p. 16. 3~ See "The Preparatory Rites: A Case Study in Liturgical Ecology," coauthored by Kathleen Hughes, Gilbert Ostdiek, and me, in The Ecological Challenge: Ethical, Liturgical, and Spiritual Responses, ed. Richard Fragomeni and John Pawlikowski (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1994), pp. 83-101. 32 CSL §7 speaks of Christ's presence in the ministers, the Eucharistic species, the sacraments, and the word and when the community prays and sings. 33 The General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours, §273. 34 See "leitourgeo" by H. Strathmann in Theological Dictionary of the Review for Religious New Testament, ed. Gerhard Kittel, trans, and ed. Geoffrey W. Bromiley (G~and Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1967), Vol. 4, 226-228. 3s Ferdinand Hahn, The Worship of the Early Church (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1973), p. 38. 36 Karl Rahner, "Considerations on the Active Role of the Person in the Sacramental Event," in his Theological Investigations, Vol. 14: Ecclesiology, Questions in the Church, The Church in the World, trans. David Bourke (New York: Seabury Press, 1976), p. 169. 37 Michael Skelley, The Liturgy of the World. Karl Rahner's Theology of Worship (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1991), p. 101. 39 Earlier in the constitutions it is noted that "Franciscan prayer is affective" (§46:6, emphasis mine). In view of this characterization and the previously noted need that liturgy be humanly appealing (see n. 14 above), it seems reasonable to assert that this ideal of daily Eucharist must be balanced with the need of a community for effective and affec-tire worship. 39 CSL §14. 4o Music in Catholic Worship, §6. 41 Fulfilled in Your Hearing, §8. 42 §§20-21, on p. 76 in The Path of Renewal: The Documents of the Five Plenary Councils and the First Assembly of the Order of Capuchin Friars Minor, ed~ Regis Armstrong. 43 §3, on p. 8 of Living Poverty in Brotherhood (Rome: Curia generale dei Frail Minori Cappuccini, 1998). ~4 The Identity of the Franciscan Order at the Moment of Its Foundation (1999), p. 35. 4s §14, on p. 31 in The Path of Renewal. ~ See Can VVe Always Celebrate the Eucharist? ed. Mary Collins and David Power (New York: Seabury Press, 1982), esp. the article by Enrique Dussel, pp. 56-65. 47 §16, on p. 31 in The Path of Renewal. 4s See §25 of the new Institutio Generalis Missalis Romani (2000). 49 The author's interpolation. so IGMR, §42. s* Letter of John Paul II to John Corriveau, 18 September 1996, as cited in Analecta OFMCap 112, nos. 3-4 (1996): 566. s2 Vita consecrata, §61. s3 §4, on p. 72 in The Path of Renewal; this image is reflected in our constitutions, §54. s4 See the related discussion in chap. 11 of the Fifth Plenary Council of the Order, in The Path of Renewal, pp. 116-121. ss §95, on p. 137 in The Path of Renewal. s6 In a recent report by the U.S. bishops on the priest shortage, the 3~uly-August 2001 Foley ¯ Eucharistic Praxis in Ecological Perspective following statistics were offered: total number of priests, 47,600; num-ber active in parishes, 27,000; ratio of priests to Catholics, 1 to 1257; number of dioceses reporting fewer priests than needed, 83 percent; parishes without a resident pastor, 2334; parishes directed by a nonpriest, 437; dioceses closing parishes, 13 percent; dioceses reducing number of Sunday Masses, 42 percent; dioceses expecting major increase in lay min-istry in the next 10 years; 86 percent. From the U.S. bishops' study The Impact of Fewer Priests on the Pastoral Ministry, as reported in the National Catholic Reporter, 30 June 2000. s7 Whereas the U.S. ritual provides for Communion as a possibility in all rituals presented (see §§25-36 in the U~S. publication Sunday Celebrations in the Absence of a Priest (New York: Catholic Book Publishing Company, 1994), the Canadian ritual provides only for Celebrations of the Word and of the Hours, without Communion (Sunday Celebrations of the Word: Gathering in the Expectation of the Eucharist [Ottawa: Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, 1995]). s8 §50, on p. 88 in The Path of Renewal. s9 §57, on p. 92 in The Path of Renewal. 60 §80, on p. 101 in The Path of Renewal. 61 While there is no universal agreement on the meaning of "qual-ity," the U.S. bishops offer direction in this definition: "Quality means love and care in the making of something, honesty and genuineness with any materials used, and the artist's special gift in producing a harmonious whole, a well-crafted work," Environment and Art in Catholic Worship, §20. 62 While there may exist no unanimity regarding what constitutes "competency" for presiders', the point is that, given the critical and for-mative nature of Eucharist for beginning Capuchins, presidency is not a slot to be filled by anyone. Someone (presumably the directors of the various levels of formation) needs to take responsibility for quality con-trol in this area. My working definition of competency in presiding is: "an obvious level of development in the priest-presider that combines (1) solid knowledge of the liturgy with (2) competence and ease in perfor-mance skills (gestures, proclamation, and so forth) for enacting the rites, (3) a clear pastoral sensitivity for the assembly and other ministers, and (4) a transparent spirit of personal prayer," from Integration for Beginning Preachers and Presiders: A Study Funded by the Wabash Center fir the Teaching and Learning of Religion and Theology (1999). 63 See John Huels, "Concelebration," in Disputed Questions in the Liturgy Today (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1988), pp. 39-45. 64 See my "Evaluation of Roman Catholic Ritual Music: From Displacement to Convergence~" in my Ritual Music (Beltsville, Maryland: Pastoral Press, 1995), pp. 173-189. Revi~ for Religious KENNETH C. RUSSELL Being a Hermit: Where and How? Hermits face a basic practical problem: how to pay for the withdrawal from society that defines them. And their "apartness" does define them, as Jacques Winandy emphasizes: "'If separation from the world, and this alone, makes the monk' (Dom Gu4ranger), it must also, and by an even stricter claim, make the hermit."1 But how can hermits reconcile their desire to withdraw from the world and their need to be connected to it for financial reasons? Can hermits live at a distance from society and still be self-supporting--as the earliest eremitical tradition says they should be2--or is their solitude something to be paid for by others, either through outright gifts or a willingness to pay inflated prices for the small items they manufacture? How are they supposed to manage? After all, not everyone with a vocation to the eremitical life is a successful artist or a popular writer or a computer whiz who can sit on a distant hilltop and still earn real money. Not everyone who desires to be alone with God has a pension or investments to pay. the bills. For the last few centuries, no one has given much thought to where hermits should live and what work they might do. In fact, there was a tendency to regard Kenneth C. Russell, a frequent contributor, writes from 40 Landry Street, Apt. 1505; Ottawa, Ontario; K1L 8K4 Canada. JMy-August 2ool dialogue Russell ¯ Being a Hermit them as good-for-nothing nobodies who had no proper place in the regular structure of respectable consecrated life. But, after a long campaign by the pioneers of the eremitical revival, hermits have, as it were, been cleaned up and brought in from the cold. Canon 603 of the 1983 Code of Canon Law provides a much-appreci-ated mechanism by which they may gain recognition as individuals "dedicated to God in consecrated life." What effect, though, does this official recognition have on a hermit's fundamental problem: how to withdraw from society and still find money to keep a roof over his or her head and food on the table? Three Commentaries Canon 603 itself says nothing about the tension between the hermit's quest for solitude and his or her need of money. But, of course, the commentaries on the canon cannot ignore it. How do they deal with it? These commentaries are of some importance because they are among the texts likely to be consulted when a hermit seeks to be recognized as "one dedicated to God in consecrated life" by the profession of the evangelical counsels in the hands of'the diocesan bishop. These texts are also likely to influence those counseling would-be hermits on an appropriate course of action. I have focused on three commendable texts, each of which has much to offer anyone seeking information on the eremitical life. The first of these was prepared by the French Canonical Committee for Religious in 1993 at the request of the Episcopal Commission for the Religious State) (It is worth noting that in 1989 there were an estimated 150 hermits in France. Of the 79 female and 39 male he~rmits known to the episcopal authorities, 57 were monastics, 35 were religious, 7 were diocesan priests, and 19 were lay people.) The second text, written by D.J. AndrOs, was prepared in response to a request for guidance made to the Instituto Juridico Claretiano by some bishops from Spain, Brazil, and Italy. This long text, first published in 1986, offers a detailed model of dioce-san regulations which.might govern hermits in a particular church.4 The third text is an oft-referred-to article by Helen L. MacDonald titled "Hermits: The Juridical Implications," which appeared in 1992.5 I want to consider two questions. First, where do the authors Review for Religious of these texts think hermitages should be located? Second, what work do they suggest hermits do? In other words, I want to examine how these references deal with the tension between the hermit's distance from the world and his or .her need of cash. These are not directly questions of canon law, although the pattern of the canons dealing with religious life may influence how they are answered. Certainly the writers' conception of the eremitical life and the weight to be given to its various elements plays a role in determining where they think hermits should live and what they should do. Location and Work The outline of statutes Andr6s offers is the most restrictive of the three documents in regard to place and work. It situates hermits in isolated areas of mountainous regions. There is a practical reason for this idyllic setting since AndrOs, who.insists that hermits not work for others, recommends herbal gardening, beekeeping, and care of a flock as suitable employment for hermits. While he notes that the work undertaken by hermits' should not be too absorbing or exhausting, he also says that hermits should be financially independent. They should not expect the bishop or their family to bail them out when they have difficulties. AndrOs obviously believes that the "separation from the world" which characterizes hermits should be taken in a material, measurable sense. He also insists that physical labor should be part of hermits' penitential regime. Hermits, in other words, should not be exempt from the obligation to earn their living by the sweat of their brow. MacDonald takes a softer position in regard to hermits' paying their own way. She speaks of a need to determine how a candidates for recognition as hermits "will be financially supported. ,,6 This may come, she says, from work done in the her-mitage, contributions from family or a religious community, or, in the case of priests, from Mass stipends. She mentions the correc-tion of papers from college extension courses, weaving, painting, and making small crosses and other salable objects as work that could be done within the hermitage. The only exterior money-earning activity she mentions for nonclerical hermits is the possibility of part-time teaching. Like AndrOs, she points out that hermits have no right to expect support from the bishop. She Jnly-August 2001 Russell * Being aHermit find locations that foster the degree of isolation they need. notes, however, that he may fully or partially support a hermit if he chooses to do so. She concludes that "it doesn't matter much what the hermit does, as long as it is in keeping with the eremit-ical vocation and is approved by the bishop."7 MacDonald's openness to the idea that hermits might be supported by others or helped along with gifts of food or clothing suggests that she does not really expect most hermits to be self-sup-porting. It may be significant, therefore, that when she speaks of the work hermits do she puts the word labor in quotation marks. Since MacDonald situates hermits' work within the hermitage, she feels no obligation to locate the cell in a specific kind of place. She notes, in fact, that hermits can be found almost anywhere. Hermits, she argues, must find locations that foster the degree of isolation they need. Her understanding of solitude seems quite flexible; she believes that many hermits "will make daily visits to the poor or the sick.''s She maintains, nonetheless, that the loca-tion of hermitages should indi~:ate "a real sociological separation from the community.''9 She does not, then, measure hermits' iso-lation in miles or kilometers. Hermits need not, in her opinion, flee to hidden spots in the green countryside. The document of the French Canonical Committee for Religious also qualifies the sociological separation of hermits by pointing out that it does not exclusively or Hermits must even primarily refer to the avoidance of con-tact with others. The text notes, however, that individuals are not so caught up in eco-nomic and societal affairs as large groups. This peripheral status of hermits--compared, say, with that of a religious community-- should show itself by the solitaries' simplic-ity of life. But how is this life to be maintained? This document recognizes that the need to work can become a determinative factor in the sched-ules of hermits. It is a serious matter. Hermits are expected to support themselves. Candidates for official recognition are asked to consider what type of work they can do that both suits their aptitudes and respects the form of life they are about to embrace formally. The text does not suggest what sort of work hermits might take up. Nor does it indicate where they should locate their hermitages. It merely insists that the silence hermits need must be guaranteed by the solitary location of their dwellings. Revie~v for Religious Poverty Since work and a hermit's standard of living are integrally linked, we must look briefly at how the texts under consideration view the commitment to poverty that formally recognized hermits make. First of all, each text acknowledges the tradition that the poverty of hermits is a real, physical limitation. It is quite different from the poverty of members of religious institutions who, though they theoretically possess nothing in a personal way, share in the corporate sufficiency of the order or congregation to which they belong. Hermits obviously lack this "cushion," and, since they salvage as many hours as they can from the tyranny of work because of their desire to be silently with God, they are reduced to a standard of living that provides nothing but the basics. Even when hermits do not have to depend on work for their income, their focus on God alone strips away the distraction of material comforts. The poverty of hermits is neither the poverty of the destitute nor the poverty of religious. It is not a matter of not owning things, but of having little, whether owned or not. MacDonald explicitly acknowledges the difference between religious and eremitical poverty: "While poverty in an institute consists in being dependent on the superior or community for ~verything, the hermit may, in fact, own what is necessary while at the same time be lacking the very real security offered by belonging to a community.''1° The French committee of canonists points out, however, that the poverty of hermits poses a problem since canon 600 governing poverty in all forms of consecrated life does not seem to fit their situation. The committee notes that there are two ways of dealing with this issue. The first, which is more in conformity with tradition, views the poverty of hermits as a stripping to essentials in accord with the nature of the eremitical life. The second makes the diocesan bishop the hermits' superior in the strict sense, and not merely the overseer of their plan of life. The bishop, then, is seen as the "superior" whose administration and regulation control hermits' poverty. Although AndrOs emphasizes the real poverty of hermits, he seems, nonetheless, to be sympathetic to this second approach. When he states that solitaries should not own their hermitages, he is obviously bringing their poverty into conformity with the nonownership model of canon 600. His statement vividly illus-trates iust how untraditional this view of eremitical poverty actu- Russell ¯ Being aHermit ally is. Egyptian hermits may not have had a land claim on file in the local registry office, but they certainly thought of the huts they built with their own hands and at their own expense as belonging to them! I would argue that, while it may be inappropriate for a religious to own his or her dwelling, there is no reason why a contemporary hermit should not do so, if earlier savings make the initial down payment possible. A hermit's ownership of a modest apartment or cottage will not compromise the real poverty in which he or she lives. In fact, paying the mortgage will probably ensure it. Resolving the Tension Of the three texts examined, two attempt to resolve the tension between physical withdrawal from society and the need to make money by contact with it. Andr~s's document does this by locating the hermitage in a pastoral setting where the kinds of work it recommends can be done. MacDonald makes the hermitage the site of a cottage industry and then situates it to fit the hermit's tolerance for solitude. The French text does not address the tension directly. It vaguely locates the hermitage in solitude and leaves the question of how hermits might earn a living open, with the proviso, of course, that the work done not be detrimental to the lifestyle it is supposed to support. But how helpful are these texts? The mountaintop solution of Andr&s document obviously gives priority to the location of the hermitage. Isolation makes the hermit, as it were, and consequently the solitary place determines the work done. The text resolves the tension between the need to be connected for economic reasons and the desire to be separated, but unfortunately it limits who can be hermits since many people lack the aptitude for the work he thinks ideal. MacDonald's solution to the tension between withdrawal and the need to work is equally unsatisfactory. The hermitages may be located anywhere, but solitaries work in them at tasks that are unlikely to pay the bills. In this scenario hermits come close to being licensed charities like their medieval predecessors. MacDonald's attitude toward the economic status of hermits directly contradicts the French committee's insistence that hermits not be a burden to others. Unfortunately, its text says Review for Religious nothing about how hermits are supposed to pay for the solitude they are required to seek. Its silence, however, may indicate that the committee thinks bishops and hermits should adopt a practical attitude to the reconciliation of finances and solitude. Why There Is a Problem Why do hermits find it so hard to reconcile the need for soli-tude and the need to earn a livelihood? Why is this a problem? I believe there are two reasons. First of all, the recognition of the eremit-ical life in canon law has brought regulations in its wake. This was inevitable. Bishops cannot be expected to be responsible for what they cannot regulate. The real issue is just how much regulation is required. Andr~s's text goes into great detail on the various material and spiritual aspects of the solitary life. MacDonald's article and the document of the French committee "of canonists are more restrained. All the texts, as might be expected, fill in gaps in canon 603 by refer-ence to the canons governing individuals in religious communities. The consequence of all this is that, though hermits recog-nized by canon 603 are not religious according to the definition in canon 574, they tend to think of themselves and to be thought of as such. They are, as it were, drawn by the strong gravitational pull of religious life into a zone wher~ certain proprieties influence the conception of the kind of work they might do. Some jobs are thought respectable, some not. You might find a religious distributing clothing at her community's secondhand depot, but you will not find one handing customers their garments at the local dry cleaners. There is a good reason for this. Congregations have specific missions to fulfill in the church. The only problem is that this "religious" reason does not apply to hermits. They do not work to do good, but to earn the money they need to maintain their life of prayer. The fact that many hermits are monastics or priests or former religious strengthens this pull to conform to the respectability the Egyptian hermits certainly thought of the huts they built with their own hands and at their own expense as belonging to them! '371 . July-August 2001 Russell ¯ Being aHermit faithful associate with religious life. It is as though there is a line in the sand. On one side is the lay world with its way of doing things and, on the other, the religious world with its conventions. Canon 603 has clearly reached across the line and drawn the erstwhile solitary misfit out of secular society into a world where only certain ways of earning a living are considered proper. The shabby, "good-for-nothing" dropout whom no respectable order would admit has been spruced up and given standing in the church. It is only fitting, apparently, that such a "cloistered" individual earn his or her living "religiously." Hence we get the manufacture of pious items or other genteel pursuits within a hut up the lane from the "hermit lives here" sign. Benedict Joseph Labre and his fleas are still out in the cold! The second reason for the unrealistic approach to hermits' need for cash and quiet is, I suspect, an idyllic image of medieval hermits. Solitude is given such a priority in this conception of the eremitical life that any place other than a mountaintop or forest glade seems inappropriate for a hermitage. Unfortunately, the taming of hermits (whom Jean Leclercq called the least institu-tional of people) and the medievalizing of the image of solitaries hinder the adaptation of the eremitical life to the conditions of our time. Hermits face what might be called a Cluniac tempta-tion: to emphasize prayer to such an extent that work (penance!) and humility are neglected. Toward a Solution What, then, is the solution? How can the various components of the solitary life find their proper place in the regime of the hermit? The first step is to realize that the designation hermits is a catch-all word for a disparate group of men and women who, though they share certain common features, live these out in ways that are unique to each. The authors of the texts examined admit this. They tend to forget, nevertheless, that as a consequence the eremitical life resists organization and detailed regulatory prescriptions. If hermitswI am speaking here of nonmonastic hermits and of those who are not members of congregations tolerating them in their midst--can free themselves of the propriety associated With religious and can shed the medievalimage of the hermit, there is no reason why there should be any tension between their quest Review for Religious for solitude and their need to support themselves. Once the two issues are considered in tandem--as they were in the case of the solitaries in the Egyptian desert--hermits can seek solitude where they. can earn a living. And, if hermits are willing to live the hidden life of aloneness with God without display or privilege, there is no reason why those who lack the skills that make country living profitable should not find employment in the city. There is no rea-son why they should not take the same menial, part-time jobs that many lay people work at and live on. Living in the city will not compromise their anonymity or their noninvolvement in society's preoccupations or even their real phys-ical solitude. One can live in an apartment building for years with-out knowing one's neighbors by name. Encounters in the elevator seldom get beyond chitchat about the weather. In fact, the city offers greater possibilities for alone-ness than the country, where friendly and curious neighbors are likely to try to inte-grate the stranger in their midst into the community. The quiet of city hermits may not be the idyllic quiet that can be found The city offers greater possibilities for aloneness than the country. in the countryside (when snowmobiles and all-terrain vehicles are not on the move), but it can be authentic nonetheless. However, just as the need for quiet must determine where hermits live, even in the city, so their focus on God must govern the kind of work they do. A long tradition discourages work that wears the hermit out or that demands so much attention that there is no room for God. It may well be, then, that hermits, most of whom are mature individuals, will find that the skills they have acquired over the years do not fit their new calling. They may have to look for simpler, less demanding jobs that can be done and forgotten about when the shift ends. A Summary and Some Questions In this paper I have been concerned with how some influen-tial scholarly texts deal with the tension created by the need of hermits to distance themselves from society while remaining linked to it for sustenance. I have argued that there is a disturbing tendency to deal with hermits as though they are quasi-religious. I have expressed the fear that this conception of the hermit, which J~dy-August 2001 Russell * Being aHermit goes hand in hand with a rather romantic image of the medieval solitary, will stifle the development of the eremitical life. It threatens to freeze the life into a privileged leisure enjoyed by pensioners, the financially secure, and those willing to take hand-outs from others. The texts I have looked at are concerned with her~nits "rec-ognized by law as. dedicated to God in consecrated life" by a public profession of the evangelical counsels before the diocesan bishop. One need not make such a profession to lead an eremitical life. Many hermits never take this official step, some because they are satisfied with the private vows or promises they have made, and some because they have not been able to find a bishop willing to accept hermits. Do some hermits perhaps feel uneasy about being recognized? Is the term public profession another example of a concept borrowed from religious life that does not quite fit the reality of the eremitical' regime? Should it, like the notion of poverty, be reinterpreted? Of itself, the technical canonical term public does not seem to imply publicity. Elizabeth McDonough states that "the vows or other sacred bonds (that is, promises or formal commitments) pronounced by hermits are public because the canon refers to them as such and because they are received by the diocesan bishop in the name of the church (c. 1192, §2).''~ Both AndrOs and MacDonald, however, make the commitment of the hermit public in the ordinary sense of the word. AndrOs recommends that it take place in the subject's parish church on a Sunday or a feast day. MacDonald insists that the congregation be involved "whether the ceremony takes place in the cathedral, the nearest parish church, or the hermit's 'home parish.'''~2 This kind of public event may be fitting for someone making a monastic commitment or taking vows in a religious congregation. But does this understanding of public fit a hermit? Does it not vio-late the radical hiddenness the hermit seeks? Does it not tend to make him or her a religious in the eyes of the people? Does it not awaken expectations that he or she will conform to what is expected of religious? I am reminded of Emily Dickinson's remark in her pbem that begins "I'm Nobody! Who are you?" When she surmises that she is not alone because the reader may well be Nobody too, she cau-tions the person not to tell: "they'd advertise - you know!" Exactly. It seems to me that big public celebrations, newspaper articles, Review for Religious television coverage, and so forth are hindrances to the witness of hermits. This should depend on the peace that goes forth from them and not on the fact that others know they are hermits. They should have faith that living a hidden life has value even if only the bishop and a few intimates know about it. It would be unfortunate if a split developed between the offi-cially recognized hermits and their untamed, unregulated, scruffy counterparts. It would be a setback for the eremitical tradition if hermits recognized in law pursued a somewhat stylized and regulated eremit-ical life while their freelance peers held firm to the nonconformity that' has always pushed hermits to the fringe of society and the church. The following statement, however, by a renowned canonist, J. Beyer, suggests that this is just what is happening: "Today, besides the public witness of the hermits through their abandonment of the world, austerity of life, and external soli-tude, there are also hermits who remain in the world, live in reserve, supporting themselves by common manual labor. They are almost unknown, and in their cities they pray and work to the praise of God and for the salvation of the world.''3 I argue that this distinction between publicly recognized her-mits following a "classical" eremitical regime, on the one hand, and hermits living hidden lives "in the world," on the other, is detrimental to the renewal of the eremitical life. The distinction is a false one produced by an unrealistic religious view of how soli-taries should earn their living and where they should locate their hermitages. Unfortunately, the commentaries studied do not come to grips with these issues in a practical way. MacDonald and Andrts offer unrealistic advice while the French canonists leave the whole matter vague. Authentic hermits--whither recognized in law or not--want to be anonymous nobodies alone with God in a simple life of prayer and work. They need to be able to support their arduous, insecure, and unapplauded lifestyle in any appropriate way they can. They need to live where work is available. Formal recognition according to canon 603 should intensify their commitment to this hard life, not restrict their ability to live it. The witness of hermits should depend on the peace that goes forth from them. ffu~-August 2001 Russell ¯ Being a Hermit Notes ~ [Jacques Winandy], A Manual for Hermits:for the use of the Hermits of St. John tbe Baptist (privately printed, 1964), p. 10. For a revised version of this manual, see Jacques Winandy, Vie drdmitique: Essai d'ini-tiation, Vie monastique, Vol. 6 (B~grolles-en-Manges: Abbaye de Bellefontaine, 1976). 2 See my article "Must Hermits Work?" Review for Religious 59, no. 2 (March-April 2000): 156-174. 3 "Les ermites," in Comitd canonique fran~ais des religieux, Vie religieuse, dr~mitisme, consecration des vierges, communaut~s nouvelles: ~tudes canoniques (Paris: Cerf. 1993), pp. 163-181. 4 D.J. AndrOs, "Proyecto de estatutos diocesanos para los ermitafios de la iglesia particular de. Comentario aplicativo al can. 603 del CIC," Commentarium pro Religiosis et Missionariis 65 (1986): 185-248. s Helen L. MacDonald, "Hermits: The Juridical Implications of Canon 603," Studia canonica 26 (1992): 163-189. 6 MacDonald, p. 177 (italics added). 7 MacDonald, p. 186. s MacDonald, p. 187. 9 MacDonald, p. 184 10 MacDonald, p. 185. 11 Elizabeth McDonough, "Hermits and Virgins," Review for Religious 51, no. 3 (May-June 1992): 305. 12 MacDonald, p. 180. ~3 Quoted in The Code of Canon Law: A Text and Commentary, ed. James A. Coriden et al. (New York: Paulist Press, 1985), p. 468 (italics added). Cleft for Me The hand that formed the firmament, that fit galaxies together and fashioned me, now hangs limp, nailed to a tree. Yet that mangled hand still has the power to cleave the rock inside of me. Teresa Burleson R~view for Religious CHRISTOPHER J. RENZ Learning a Foreign Language: Continuing the Dialogue on Homosexuality I;his poem "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," Robert rost describes the woods as dark and deep, an appropriate metaphor for emotions present in discussions on homosexuality in religious and priestly life. One need only compare two recent articles to get a feel for the deep and opposing sentiment on this issue. Paul Shaughnessy claims that homosexual i~riests are "legion" within the priesthood, that they are a problem to be solved (which will be tough, he says, because at issue is a fight between liberal and conservative Catholics), and that the solution to this problem is to reject all homosexuals who apply to the seminary2 James Martin, in sharp contrast, says that a clear and dispassionate review of the major issues raised by the presence of homosexual priests will help significandy.2 The question, he says, is not whether God is calling homosexual men to the priesthood, but why. Martin responds by analyzing the gifts that homosexual priests bring to the church: a profound compassion (arising from their personal experience with persecution, rejection, and suffering), a deep spirituality, and an artistic creativity. Any attempt to resolve these conflicting views can seem intimidating, like a journey into Frost's woods. A clear and Christopher J. Renz OP, director of formation for the Western Dominican Province, lives at St. Albert Priory Studentate Community; 5890 Birch Court; Oakland, California 94618. ' Renz ¯ Learning a Foreign Language dispassionate first step is Donald Cozzens's Changing Face of the Priesthood, and specifically chapter 7, "Considering Orientation.''3 The book's purpose is to describe the current state of the priesthood and review the issues and challenges that lie ahead. In chapter 7, Cozzens discusses the so-called "crisis of orientation" under three headings, "homosexuality and the seminary," "throughout the ages," and "the priesthood as a gay profession." He says that a delay in facing this crisis will cause great harm to the church and the priesthood. Though Cozzens's reflections specifically deal with seminarians and priests, I believe they are also relevant to religious formation communities. As director of formation in my province, I am particularly interested in exploring how this crisis affects women and men in formation programs. In this paper I will explain why I believe the religious formation community is a more helpful working model for discussing this "crisis of orientation" than Cozzens's seminary model. As his purpose is only to raise issues, Cozzens offers no in-depth look at possible causes or specific solutions to the "crisis of orientation" he sees, but, by linking it to a "disproportionate" number of homosexual men in seminary life and the priesthood, he seems to imply that this crisis is best resolved by establishing a more "proportionate" balance between homosexual and heterosexual men in the priesthood. He discusses the expanding social phenomenon of homosexual orientation and the conflicted relationship of gay and lesbian groups with the church, particularly as regards its consistent teaching on homosexuality (that homosexual women and men are to live lives of celibate chastity). Two related paradoxes arise. First, while gay and lesbian activists claim that the church denies them their sexual rights, they also note that the church has been an historical haven for homosexuals, particularly through religious life and the priesthood. Second, as a requirement common to both homosexually oriented people and to the priesthood and religious life, the church's teaching on celibate chastity has made priesthood and religious life naturally attractive for them. Cozzens does not consider a large number of homosexual men and women in the priesthood and religious life to be surprising. Cozzens's brief treatment indicates the tensions between the church and the gay and lesbian community and presents a forum for reflection and discussion. The tensions may involve doubts and Review for Religious even suspicion. Cozzens correctly notes that some gay4 networks and subcultures use the priesthood to legitimize sexual acting out. As he addresses concerns about the consequences of a priesthood seen to be a "gay profession," one is left with the impression that the real issue is whether or not homosexuals who enter religious life or the priesthood bring with them the sexual attitudes of the so-called gay subculture. More bluntly, are homosexually oriented religious or priests trustworthy as regards upholding the church's teaching on homosexuality? The implication seems to be that many will use religious life and the priesthood as "fronts" for their sexual activity. Such assumptions are harmful because they tend to dismiss the sincere and good intentions of at least some homosexual women and men. On the other side, homosexual persons who enter priesthood or religious life may have their own counterreactive suspicions. They may wonder if the church trusts them, if their religious community assumes that they will act out, if they will find support among their colleagues. Addressing these tensions is essential in order to allay such mutual distrust. Cozzens looks at two consequences of the disproportionate numbers between homosexual and heterosexual seminarians: the psychological effects and the threat to unity and integrity of the community. As a psychologist, Cozzens claims that a large number of gay men in their community brings about in straight seminarians and clergy a "chronic destabilization." This produces self-doubt, and has implications for both spiritual vitality and emotional balance. In the seminary the energy used to cope with this psychic unrest is energy diverted from study and prayer, putting heterosexual seminarians at a disadvantage. Cozzens compares this phenomenon to the stress experienced by a traveler in a country whose language is unfamiliar. Such chronic destabilization can be particularly problematic in a closed system such as a seminary because the unconscious stress can cause a loss of psychic energy, a sense of not fitting in, that may suggest to a seminarian that he is not called to the priesthood. Granting for the sake of argument all of this to be true, one is left to wonder about the psychological effects on homosexual Addressing these tensions is essential in order to allay such mutual distrust. Renz ¯ Learning a Foreign Language seminarians or religious in a predominandy heterosexual seminary or formation program. Will they not experience the same kind of psychic destabilization? Will they not feel out of sync too? And what about all the energy they use up in stabilizing themselves in the predominantly heterosexual environment? Would the simply professed who have a homosexual orientation not be tempted to leave the religious community for the same reasons? Would it matter if they did? Is it not true that the traveler will become more stabilized when committed to learning the language of that foreign country? Is this not the expectation placed upon homosexual women and men? One means to alleviate the chronic destabilization induced by the disproportionate number of homosexual seminarians might be the limiting (or elimination) of homosexual men in the seminary. Cozzens raises this possibility as important for consideration. It is clearly Shaughnessy's choice. Such an option would perhaps fall within the guidelines established by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF): "There are areas in which it is not unjust discrimination to take sexual orientation into account; for example, in the placement of children for adoption or foster care, in the employment of teachers or athletic coaches, and in military recruitment.''s This approach would provide a quick solution to a perceived problem. It seems short-sighted, however, and could be a greater threat to the stability of priesthood than that posed by the disproportion. Chronic destabilization may loom large in Cozzens's view because a seminary community is a closed system that is small in several ways. Seminary communities are transient in nature. They exist for the sake of educating men for priesthood within a few years. The focus is more on the individual than the group. Once formal education is completed, the community dissolves and is replaced by the "brotherhood of priests," a less tangible body. Religious communities, in contrast, are much more permanent. Members make lifetime commitments to the group, whose interests are given some priority over the individual's. This is not to deny that there are comparisons to be made to the "brotherhood of priests." But it is to suggest that religious communities are better places in which to understand and deal with the benefits and risks of chronic destabilization. What is learned in religious formation programs can be applied to seminary formation programs later. Review for Religious Formation in religious life is an inculturation process, a reeducation into the values of the religious community. Many wtio come to us carry with them the goals and values of the contemporary culture. Formation programs gradually confront these values and then see if they can be aligned with those of the church and the congregation or order. This process produces a sort of culture shock, a dis-ease not unlike chronic destabilization. It might be useful, therefore, to consider Cozzens's observations under this light. The issue at hand is not destabilization (which must occur), but how the formation program responds to it. Initial formation provokes successive levels of chronic destabilization. The first levels involve "externals" (times, places, schedules) and ways of socialization (inductive explanations, patterns of obedience, and so forth). Eventually, other personality values are encountered and challenged, including those dealing with psychosexual development. Being asked to replace personal values with the new ones belonging to the religious community and the church causes a psychic distress that usually lasts through the first few years of simple vows. The destabilization is indeed chronic and, left unattended, is detrimental to the formation process. Religious life brings under one roof a variety of people, including those with differing sexual orientation. Perhaps for the first time heterosexual persons will live and interact with homosexual persons. This experience will undoubtedly produce destabilization, more so for one in the minority. I view this crisis of sexual identity as part of the formation process. The psychic and spiritual unrest can be an opportunity for the individual to open up to the community's core values. It can, however, also induce a rigid shutdown. A healthy formation program, then, must examine why each person is being destabilized, that is, what values, prejudices, or expectations are being disturbed. The destabilization is then corrected through a gradual reeducation process, which includes both classroom and applied lessons. Living with people of the opposite orientation becomes an important part of this reeducation (restabilization) process. It is an opportunity to learn about someone who is different. It is also the time to establish Initial formation provokes successive levels of chronic destabilization. ffuly-August 2001 Renz ¯ Learning a Foreign Language common values and goals, including the community's choice for celibate chastity. Religious formation programs that reduce in number or remove homosexual members because they "destabilize" the community fail in their task of formation because they do no.t attend to the restabilization of the heterosexual candidates. Because their secular heterosexual values are not destabilized and in the process replaced with celibate Christian heterosexual ones (instead, the stimulus is removed), the destabilization can happen in an altogether different way, with the presence of homosexual religious. Heterosexual candidates whose formation programs do not destabilize them are ill-prepared for religious life because they are less likely to integrate the values of the community and church: celibate chastity, tolerance, charity, and so forth. Another problem with limiting or eliminating homosexual persons from the priesthood or religious life is that the developmental needs of those homosexual persons do not get addressed. A responsible formation program promotes good psychosexual development in all its candidates through things like course work, facilitated discussion, spiritual direction, and psychological counseling (where indicated). The result is greater psychological and spiritual well-being for the individuals and hence for the community. In many formation programs, sexual orientation is taken as part of a larger picture of the psychosexual composition of a candidate. Orientation is usually not, per se, the determinative factor for suitability in seminary or religious formation programs. As Timothy Radcliffe, master of the Order of Friars Preachers, notes, we human beings are "more than our sexual orientation. For none of us, heterosexual or homosexual, can find our deepest identities in our sexual orientation."7 This idea finds its origins in the CDF document "The Pastoral Care of Homosexual Persons.''s Cozzens's concern about chronic destabilization in seminary life is problematic precisely because it overemphasizes sexual orientation to the exclusion of the whole person. This overemphasis, not the number of homosexual men, becomes the real concern. The second problem Cozzens identifies with these numbers is an inevitable emergence (he thinks) of a gay subculture, dangerous because it can cause a split within the seminary community and threaten unity. Consequendy, he sees a need for "determining the kind of vocational support appropriate to the straight seminarian Revie~ for Religious living in the midst of a gay subculture.''9 Cozzens quotes Radcliffe to support his position: "It can threaten the unity of the community; it can make it harder for the brethren to practice the chastity which we have vowed. It can put pressure on brethren to think of themselves in a way that is not central to their vocation as preachers of the kingdom.''1° It is not clear what it means to have a support system that is "appropriate to the straight seminarian." One might infer that Cozzens either would develop separate support systems for homosexual and heterosexual seminarians or, in order to keep their number to a proportionate level, would limit the number of homosexual applicants. There are several problems with this analysis. First of all, Cozzens has taken Radcliffe out of context, who states just above the quoted passage: "If a brother comes to believe that he is homosexual, then it is important that he knows that he is accepted and loved as he is. He may live in terror of rejection and accusation. But ¯ this acceptance is bread for the journey as he moves to discover a deeper identity, as a child of God . So, every brother should be accepted as he is.'''1 Radcliffe assumes that homosexual subgroups would be highly divisive because he also assumes that the homosexual friar has found support and acceptance as a homosexual in the community because of the community's healthy way of life. He implies that, when homosexual friars feel supported, there is" no reason to form a subgroup and that such groups would be disruptive. Another problem with a "vocational support appropriate to the straight seminarian" is that it presupposes an irreconcilable disunity between homosexual and heterosexual seminarians. It proposes to deal with the subculture by either ignoring or removing it. The better course is to deal direcdy with the subculture by looking at its values, introducing correctives where necessary, building up the values of the church and community (especially as regards celibate chastity), and exploring the common needs of the two groups. The concern over subcultures is legitimate. The presence of a subculture often indicates poor communication, stereotyping, prejudice, and exclusion. I take issue with Cozzens's "straight only" response to the Acceptance is bread for the journey as he moves to discover a deeper identity, as a child of God. July-August 2001 Renz ¯ Learning a Foreign Language presence of a gay subculture because it short-circuits an adequate analysis of the problem and creative solutions for it. One important difference between seminarians and new members of a religious community is in types and levels of commitment. Seminarians often do not choose the place where they will study. They may not think the seminary community and their personal investment in it are essential to their formation because this community is a temporary reality. Bycontrast, those who enter religious life choose the religious community for life. Initial formation is directed towards creating a viable community, and new members are willing to invest great personal energy in this process. These personal commitments help the religious formation director deal with a subculture within the community. Creating unity in a seminary would probably be more difficult because such personal investment in the group is likely to be lacking. The commitment by Cozzens to unity within the seminary seems to be a commitment to similarity (same orientation) rather than unity, the Pauline concept of unity embracing diversity (see 1 Co 12:4-26). Such an approach might be reasonable in the absence of a deeper group commitment by the seminarians. But separate vocational support systems for heterosexual and homosexual persons would amount to sides in opposition, the gay subculture versus the straight mainstream culture. The effect, then, could be an even greater disunity, O~en discussion (under the careful guidance of formation directors) is an essential means to develop this unity in the formation community. Fear can usually be eliminated through careful education and open dialogue. But is this "unity at a price"? Despite his concern for unity, Cozzens never suggests that homosexual and heterosexual persons come together for dialogue. Why? Is this a bit too frightening? Is this the deepest darkest part of the woods; where people are either unwilling or unable to go? The evangelical counsels call religious to be witnesses. In the presence of this fear of the "crisis or orientation," religious can offer a calming influence. The Dominican friars, for example, have formally stated at the general chapter of Caleruega (1995): "The same demands of chastity apply to all brethren of whatever sexual orientation and so no one can be excluded on this ground . No sexual orientation is a priori incompatible with the call to chastity and the common fraternal life.''~2 Other religious communities have formulated similar statements. This kind of leadership can create a Review for Religious proper climate for the "clear and dispassionate review" desired by James Martin. Formation directors should show a similar leadership. Keeping in mind the common responsibility of all members to adopt church and religious community values, formation directors can encourage open discussion on this "crisis of orientation." There remains one final issue: What would it be like for heterosexual and homosexual seminarians and religious to sit down. with one another and openly discuss the fears and prejudices that they have about each other? Would anyone come out alive from the depths of that conversation? How can we prepare a place where no one gets destroyed? I would suggest that the way is, as Cozzens describes, something akin to learning a foreign language. At first the student is disoriented. Learning the new language requires courage, patience, and the willingness to sound and look foolish at times. With diligent persistence, however, the ear, mind, and tongue gradually adjust to the foreign sounds and symbols. As proficiency grows the student opens up to experience the new culture. Eventually the differences fade away and the person feels "at home." This is the goal of the good formation program. Respon-sible formation directors model patience, openness, a desire for unity, charity, and a fidelity to the home we call religious life. In this way they gently guide the destabilization-restabilization process for new members. In addition to noting that the woods were dark and deep, Frost saw them as "lovely." The dialogue on the "crisis of orientation" in the priesthood and religious life, however dark and deep, will inevitably lead us to a beautiful place. By offering their experience to the church, religious communities show forth the beauty that results when people become "of one mind and heart on the way to God" (Rule of St. Augustine). This unity is, after all, the path by which we leave the dark woods. Cozzens is correct when he notes that a delay in facing this "crisis of orientation" will cause damage to the church and the priesthood. I believe that the church will effectively face this crisis only by journeying into fear, suffering, and pain. When undertaken with a genuine intellectual curiosity informed by a gospel charity, this journey can lead to peace and healing for all. There is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, gay or straight in God's kingdom-~only redeemed persons. But there are ffuly-August 2001 Renz ¯ Learning a Foreign Langnage miles to go--are there not?--before we rest peacefully in that blessed unity. Notes ~ Paul Shaughnessy, "The Gay Priest Problem," The Catholic World Report (November 2000): 52-58. 2 James Martin, "The Church and the Homosexual Priest," America (4 November 2000): 11-15. 3 Donald B. Cozzens, The Changing Face of the Priesthood: A Reflection on the Priest's Crisis of Soul (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2000). 4 There is a problem of terminology in Cozzens's work. Specifically, what is meant by "gay"? For Cozzens it refers to some homosexual men (in the seminary and the priesthood) associating with one another. One secular definition means the part of the homosexual community that is politically charged and sexually active (whose ideologies and way of life are in opposition to church teaching). One understanding is rather innocuous, the other is not. This distinction illuminates those places where education on church teaching and healthy psychosexual development are necessary. s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, "Some Considerations Concerning the Catholic Response to Legislative Proposals on the Non- Discrimination of Homosexual Persons" (1992), § 11. 6 See Gerald D. Coleman SS and Roger L. Freed MD, "Assessing Seminary Candidates," Human Development 21, no. 2, pp. 14-20. 7 Timothy Radcliffe, Sing a New Song: The Christian Vocation (Springfield, Illinois: Templegate Publishers, 1999), p. 146. s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. "The Pastoral Care of Homosexual Persons," Origins 16, no. 22, pp. 377-382, §16. 9 Cozzens, Priesthood, p. 103. ~0 Cozzens, Priesthood, p. 103. " Radcliffe, Sing a New Song, pp. 146-147. ~2 Initial Formation of tbe Friars Preachers: Recent Documents (Rome: Santa Sabina, 1999), p. 217. Review for Religious GEORGE J. AUGER Reflections of a Novice Director CNoardinal Basil Hume OSB, in his Footprints of the rthern Saints, said, "I always think that people join a religious order for one reason, and stay for the proper one." I suppose that could be said of all vocations, be they to the religious life, marriage, priesthood, the single life, or even various professions and occupations. One might say that all life is "becoming," a process of gradual growth. For Christians this means entering ever rdore deeply into the paschal mystery of the life, death, and resurrection of the Lord. What follows are simply reflections, hopefully practical, on the process of entering the religious life, that is, on the novitiate. I offer a few things I have learned as novice director through reading, reflection, experience, and of course prayer. I shall consider first the candidates coming to us and why and then what we are called to offer them. Bear in mind that, though we speak of a "formation process" for those entering religious life, a novice director does not "form" novices--they form themselves. One can do no more than God, that is, invite persons to prayerfully discern and perhaps freely choose religious life as lived by a given religious congregation and as George J. Auger CSV presently ministers as novice direc-tor for the Chicago province of the Clerics of Saint Viator. His address is 1212 East Euclid Street; Arlington Heights, Illinois 60004. 2~uly-August 2001 Auger * R~flections of a Novice Director inspired by the charism of its founder. Of paramount importance is respect and reverence for those seeking entrance into religious life. Here we are dealing with the unique mystery of people's relationship with the Lord. What is good and spiritually wholesome for novices is also good for a congregation, and this whether the persons remain or leave. As Charles de Foucauld said, "Why I left the Trappists is why I entered the Trappists." The attitude of a novice director should be first and foremost the good of the novices, even before that of the congregation. The good of the novice is the good of a congregation. Congregations are of the temporal order, individuals of the eternal. No religious congregation is simply of divine origin. For apostolic religious congregations today, it is evident that novices are far less numerous than in the past. Some congregations are disappearing just as others are being born. The history of religious congregations down through the centuries bears this out. Who Are Coming to Us and Why? Those coming to us are sons and daughters of a culture vastly unlike that of most congregational founders. True, the charism of a founder may well be alive, but the living of it is expressed differently in differing historical settings. (The congregations founded during and after the French Revolution are but one example.) Still, all have common thread running through them: they all desire to bring Christ's compassionate love to the needy and poor of their time, and this in spite of the prevailing culture of their day. They are evangelical and they are countercultural. Specific details of their lives come from the living charism of each founder. Those entering religious life today are older than formerly. Most have college degrees, something often required before entry. (Is it not strange that before Vatican Council II there were "lay" brothers and sisters, members with relatively little formal education? Most were religious in the full sense of the word, yet today few if any would be accepted into active apostolic congregations. What was perhaps done for nondiscriminatory reasons had a way of discriminating. Surely the term "lay religious" is passe, yet are there not men and women called to the religious life who do not have and do not desire the academic knowledge required by many congregations? Where do such religious vocations go?) Many of those entering our novitiates have been Review for Religious successful in their secular endeavors. Some have had a "conversion" experience. Others find themselves unfulfilled and resdess and in this hear God's call for "the more." These are women and men full of enthusiasm and idealism, searchers seeking fulfillment and happiness in giving of themselves for the good of others. Generosity is not lacking. They are not looking for an easy bourgeois lifestyle. They are looking for challenges, unafraid of the unknown and willing to take risks for the sake of God's reign. It is a mistake to sell them short. It has been my limited experience that those entering our communities are children of the computer and television age. Some have read relatively little and are unaccustomed to sit still with a book. They have learned to live in an individualistic and "consumer" society, as have many of us seasoned religious as well. Silence, solitude, disciplined regularity, a simple lifestyle, faith sharing, an openness to the divine presence, and prayer are, for some, unfamiliar even though these things are essential avenues of spiritual growth. For some the primary motivation in seeking entrance into religious congregations is external. They see religious life primarily in terms of ministry or what they feel called to do (ministry to youth or to the poor and neglected, teaching, parochial ministry, and so forth). But these same persons often lack a theological foundation, both dogmatically and ascetically. The spiritual life is foreign territory to them. For them religious life is not a mystery of intimacy, but a means to the end of ministry. The contemplative dimension of religious life is seen only vaguely. Others seek religious life after having had an "experience of God." These are attracted to the person of Jesus and see religious life as a way to deepen their intimacy with the Lord of their lives, yet this intimacy is with a resurrected Lord and neglects the cross. All seems "sweetness and light," They forget that God's desire and theirs will only connect on Calvary. With Paul they must learn "to glory in the cross of Christ." The human existential experiences of those joining our ranks is far different from those of the past. For the most part, those entering before Vatican 17, and they were numerous, led a sheltered For some the primary motivation in seeking entrance into religious congregations is external. July-~lug71st 2001 Auger ¯ Reflections o~a Novice Director life supported by a regime that somehow guaranteed, in the end, some kind of fulfillment. They were inspired by men and women who lived the religious life of their day to the full and radiated the secret of a life rooted in Christ. In formation, when things became difficult, there was always the support of brother or sister novices. Life was lived in terms of a goal, and that goal was often seen in terms of a life following the years of formation. Certainly one indirect but real incentive was the respect and even reverence with which religious life was held by the Catholic community at large; added to this was a subde desire for recognition or advancement on the social scale. A religious was somehow a "special" person, respected and sometimes even revered. How things have changed! Gone are the years when our novitiates were filled. Gone is the ministerial certainty of those in charge of formation. Gone is the high esteem religious life was once given. Gone are those ministries once held to be for all time. Today it is difficult to speak of a novitiate community with only one or two novices! It is not uncommon for congregations to experience one or several "noviceless" years. Of course, there are many reasons for this, some mentioned above; yet this is no cause for discouragement. Many of the ministries once undertaken by religious are now taken by laypersons, some of whom are now called associate members of a congregation, enthusiastically embracing the vision of its founder. The Holy Spirit is present and guiding us, offering us the grace to read the "signs of the times." One must not forget nor disparage the past; rather, one must build on a past marked by generosity, sacrifice, and a willingness to give one's all for the sake of God's reign. This element in religious life has not changed, nor will it in years to come. I believe that those entering our ranks are sold on our mission. This is usually the most attractive element presented by vocation directors, and this is good. There is, however, a difficulty. Our mission is frequendy in a transitional stage. It is seldom limited to one specific mission, though there remain congregations with only one, such as nursing or caring for the aged. For congregations that once taught in primary and secondary schools, teaching is no longer exclusively a matter of schools. Parochial ministry, social services, and chaplaincies are now rightly seen as having a teaching dimension. Religious women and men consider all sorts of ministries as teaching, often resulting in small local communities and even one-person assignments. This can and does create a Review for Religious problem, for those entering our ranks seek community. They seek a community where men and women share a vision and are willing to sacrifice for it. The problem is that all too often apostolic congregations voice their common vision in such abstract and general terms that, in the end, these mission statements say and mean very little. The focus of such congregations is blurred or nebulous, and so those entering them may find themselves confused and uncertain regarding both identit3) and mission. It is well and good to say that our mission is to advance God's reign, but must one enter religious life to advance the reign of God? There has to be something more. In such instances the deep mystery of religious life is obfuscated. The purpose, I believe, of the novitiate experience is to clarify the meaning of religious life, a life devoted to a mission, yes, but at the same time rooted in and nourished by a personal relationship with the Lord. In reality and in the practical order, one's mission and identity as a religious are one: "I am my mission." The attractiveness and appeal of religious life comes from religious afire with the love of God and impelled irresistibly to love and help others (Col 1:28-29). Mission is rooted in one's intimate and personal relationship with the Lord. What Are We Called to Offer Them? There is an advantage to the paucity of novices today. We are now able to minister to one by one, getting to know them in depth and letting them get to know us as we live the mystery of our religious life. The novitiate is a time for internalization, of interiority: knowing and experiencing a deeper relationship with the Lord. It is a time to nourish the seed of divine love within them, to foster the contemplative in them, inviting them to experience God's presence and abiding love. To paraphrase an early father of the church, the measure of our love of God will always be commensurate to our conviction of God's love for us. "You have not chosen me, I have chosen you" (In 15:16). Mission is important, yet it is not primary in the novitiate experience. The external and all-too-human excitement and enthusiasm for what novices will do at some future time must somehow b

Issue 58.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1999. ; for rel igious Ch6sfar~ He6tages arid Cer~ter~p~rary L~v~r~g MARCH.APRIL 1999 o VOLUME 58 ¯ 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 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 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@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondenbe 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; Xa, Tashington, 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. ©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 Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling ¯ Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL. 1999 ¯ VOLUME 58 ¯ ¯ NUMBER 2 contents 118 137 communal commitment: a symposium Luminous Traces: The Inbreaking Spirit amid Cultural Fragmentation Michael Downey offers a five-step tour of the culture horizon, pointing out the challenges and opportunities the U.S. culture presents to the communal commitment that lies at the core of most expressions of vowed religious life. Community Living." Beginning the Conversation Doris Gottemoeller RSM opens up a discussion on the meaning of community living in regard to its theological base, its spirituality, the role of leadership, and special challenges today. 150 paschal mystery The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection: Two Interior Witnesses Leon McKenzie proposes that the voice of the resurrection archetype and the voice of the Holy Spirit provide credibility for Jesus' resurrection. 158 168 From Woundedness to Union Cynthia Bourgeault presents an explanation of the psychology of Centering Prayer. On the Go with Chronic Illness, Sitting Still with Mark Pamela A. Smith SSCM reflects on her own life in the context of Mark's Gospel: What is the Christian mix of resignation and stubbornness, relaxation and fight, that makes it possible to slow down and still go barreling forward? Review for Religious 175 184 the vowed life Friendship and Celibacy: Seeing Beauty from a "Holy Distance" Brian J. PierceOP makes the point that we need new stories and new language to affirm and celebrate the vow of chastity and the goodness and beauty of human and sexual love. Poverty: Now You See It, Now You Don't Elissa Rinere CP surveys the various meanings and implications for living the vow of poverty professed by men and women religious. 195 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1998 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv, Eduardo C. Fernandez SJ, and Ver6nica M~ndez RCD present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 116 Prisms 211 Canonical Counsel: Visitation 217 Book Reviews March-April 1999 prisms How are we to observe a year dedicated to God the Father at a time when we desire to be more sensitive about sexist phrases and patriarchal soundings? The male imaging of God, both in our theology study and in our liturgical services, has come under criticism from many Christians, often stimulated by the groundbreaking work of feminist theologians--no matter that Jesus referred most often to God as Father (though he also tised other image words or examples, of course, including feminine ones). Mthough the Hebrew word Abba is used only once in the Greek Gospels--in Mark--and seldom in Paul's epistles, the significant intimacy of this word (and its relevance to Jesus' teaching the prayer "Our Father") has made it central to the Christian understanding of the relationship of ourselves to God-v-One upon whom we can call, by our being baptized into Jesus, with his love-word Abba. God, for us Christians, is above all personal. We talk to God as a persbn. In our everyday life we learn early on to call out to "Mom" and "Dad," but we do not find ourselves saying "O Parent." Parent, much as it blends masculine and feminine, is not used in personal address. So parent and other ways of avoiding the Jesus-chosen name "FathEr" do not tend to keep us true to our Christian faith. Nor is it helpful to use activity names in our sharing in the trinitarian life since all God's activities outside the :Trinity are the work of the one God. In addition, the activity titles of creator, redeemer, and sanctifier are not the warm personal words that elicit and express a love-response on our part. Review for Religious Father Walter Ong SJ, in his book Fighting for Life, makes a helpful observation about how appropriate the use of the Father word is for God. The father metaphor seems more apt for God even than a mother metaphor because of the very way that God relates to us, A mother in carrying a child in her womb for nine months knows well the meaning of "bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh." In ordinary circumstances, a mother knows and feels how much this child (baby) belongs to her. A father's experience is necessarily different. A father must lay claim to a child. Leaving aside our contemporary scientific DNA testing for paternity, a father has to step forward and begin the bonding process with a baby boy or girl whom he believes is, and accepts as, the one he "fathered." We Christians understand that God steps forward and, in and through Jesus the Christ, claims us as his children. We are "daughters and sons of God," albeit "adopted" because Jesus alone merits the title "the only-begotten Son." True, we are God's creation, but we are not of the "substance" (like "bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh") of God. We are claimed by God in Jesus; we are adopted. The gospel metaphor of Father, then, in a transcendent way Of choosing and claiming, has given us the relationship we rejoice in--daughters and sons who rightfully call upon God with Jesus' word Abba. God expends great energy all our life long to convince us that we are beloved ones. Perhaps we glimpse the importance of God's choosing us as beloved in Christ when we consider the criteria of the apostle. When the Eleven were considering how to fill the place of Judas after the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, they used the criterion of having been present from the time of Jesus' baptism by John at the Jordan. For all of us followers of Jesus, he shares with us in our baptism what had been the consolation of his own in the Jordan event. We are taken into ¯ the circle of God's inner .life of trinitarian love. A year dedicated to God the Father help~ us appreciate more fully the graced relati6nship which we Christians, through Jesus Christ and our Scriptures and tradition, have been given the privilege of understanding--along with the ha.ppy responsibility of making our response. In balancing our images of God after the manner of Jesus, we Christians hold fast to the fact that our most basic response is our praying to God as "Our Father." David L. Fleming SJ March-April 1999 MICHAEL DOWNEY Luminous Traces: The Inbreaking Spirit amid Cultural Fragmentation "Peggy O'Donnell is dying." My mother was shocked when I, a first grader at Most Blessed Sacrament School, relayed the news. Peggy was a high school senior at West Catholic. She lived down the block from us in our Irish Catholic village in southwest Philadelphia. "What?" my mother asked incredulously. "Peggy O'Donnell looks just fine to me. There's nothing wrong with her." Over the course of the next few hours, my mother found out the real story via the neighborhood grapevine. "Peggy O'Donnell is leaving the world," Mother told me, "but she's not dying." But what was I to think when Nancy O'Donnell said of her sister, "Peggy's leaving the world"? Peggy did leave the world of that Irish Catholic village in southwest Philadelphia. She went to Rosemont, way out in the s~burbs, to the Convent of the Society of the Holy Child Jesus, a different world indeed from what was known to us in the city. But, however different the Michael Downey is professor of systematic theology and spir-ituality at Saint John's Seminary in Camarillo, California, and is theologian to Roger Cardinal Mahony. He edited the award-winning New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality; his most recent publication is Textual Mysticism: Reading as a Basic Spiritual Discipline. This article is adapted from the presentation given at a symposium at VCernersville, Pennsylvania, in October 1998. He may be addressed at the Archdiocesan Catholic Center Office; 3424 Wilshire Boulevard; Los Angeles, California 90010. Review for Religious world of Peggy O'Donnell and the others out in Rosemont might be from ours, and whatever these words about "leaving the world" might have meant, deep down inside I knew that Peggy O'Donnell was still going to be in the world, part of the world. She was not dying. My mother told me so! I open with this cameo of Peggy O'Donnell because it evokes images of leaving one world and embracing another, shedding the skin of one culture so as to embrace the meanings, purposes, and values of another. But "leaving the world," moving from one world into another, shifting from the culture of an Irish Catholic village within a city to that of a convent in the suburbs of Philadelphia in 1958, was a very different sort of challenge from what religious face today amid the culture, the world, in which they live. I have been invited by the coordinators of this syrr~.posium on religious life to offer a tour of the cultural horizon, pointing out the challenges and opportunities our culture presents to the communal commitment that lies at the core of most expressions of the vowed religious life. I shall proceed in five steps. First, I shall address the question What is culture? (Culture, like experience or community, is a term much used in religious discourse today, but often it lacks precision.) Second, I shall identify certain shifts that have taken place in our culture, making the world a very different place from the world in which many religious were formed as children, as adolescents, and as novices. Third, I shall describe features of this culture that pose serious challenges to commitment of any kind, specifically commitment to a particular community of persons. Fourth, I shall suggest that cultural shifts, often seen negatively, can be good news precisely because they make room for something else to come into being, providing occasion for the inbreaking Spirit in the gift of hope. I shall spell out the conditions or attitudes necessary for receiving this gift of hope in our very dark age. And, fifth, I shall suggest a reconfiguration of hope for religious life and communal commitment in terms of a shift from community to communion. Culture Culture and the world are roughly approximate terms. The story of Peggy O'Donnell is intended to be a gende reminder that, in the not so distant past, religious life was another world, an alternative culture. When Nancy O'Donnell said of her sister Peggy that she March-April 1999 Downey * Luminous Traces, was leaving the world, what she meant was that she was leaving one culture for another. The word culture refers to the various forms by which meanings, purposes, and values are expressed and impressed. Culture is a language. Language here is much more than verbal communication; it is expressivity, and human beings express themselves in manifold ways. Human beings are of necessity always expressing themselves, "speechifying"--and, when they do, they do so in culture. Culture is the whole constellation of means by which human beings expres~ what is deepest and most important to them, for example, about family and progeny, social arrangements and sexual taboos, and how to deal with illness and aging. They do this through art, literature, and ritual. Culture includes the ethos of a people, the central story or vision that gives direction to their lives, the principles and governing concerns by which they gain a sense of order and cohesion in their lives. Culture encompasses economic systems, political structures, and the laws that give shape to a sense of right and wrong. Also included are the many ways in which human beings strive to express their perceptions of beauty in music, dance, architecture, and the fine arts. Because human beings perceive and pursue the gift and task ofself-expression in different ways, cultures differ, sometimes so much so that they appear irreconcilable. In other words, human beings create or participate in creating worlds of meaning, value, and purpose by means of culture. Wherever there are human beings, there is culture. Culture is second nature to humans. Culture is what human beings do with the "stuff" of the created order, the natural world, what might be referred to here as first natui'e. Human beings a{e always taking this givenness of the natural world, this first nature, and doing something with it. The created world in which we live is the "stuff" that is taken and shaped, created. We extend and transform this givenness in accord with particularly human meanings, purposes, and values. An apple is part of nature, but making apple pie is part of culture. While daffodils belong to nature, arranging a bouquet of them is part of culture. Precious metals are mined from nature, but exchanging and wearing rings is a cultural phenomenon, expressing love and fidelity and a whole range of related meanings. Solid marble is quarried from nature's Side. When slabs of it are carefully Review for Religious designed and skillfully chiseled, the result may be a contribution to culture. There are alphabets and dictionaries, but a poem or novel is something else again. There are musical notes, but the ordering and arranging of them in a distinctive musical composition is of a completely different order. It belongs to the order of culture, second nature to human beings. Any cultural form is expressive of multiple meanings, not just one. Flowers may be arranged in a bouquet and set in a place of worship as an expression of reverence and offering. They may be sent from a lover to the beloved as an expression of affection. Flowers are sent to people who are ill in the hope of cheering and strengthening their spirits. And they may be given in times of sorrow and loss as an expression of sympathy. All these are uses of the created order, of first nature, by human beings whose nature is to talk, to "speechify." So semantically laden is the cultural phenomenon of apple pie that, for many people in the United States, to be told that someone is "as American as motherhood and apple pie" precludes need of further description of the person's character and identity. But culture is about much more than nosegays, apple pies, wedding rings, and skillfully crafted marble edifices. As second nature to human beings, culture includes everything involved in the task of being and becoming fully human. Culture, then, refers to the whole sociosymbolic order in which humans live and by which they receive and shape meaning and identity. Here it must he recognized that the extension and transformation of nature for human purposes has a checkered history. Not every cultural expression advances truly human purposes. Not all humanpurposes are worthy as such, that is, simply because they are human. And not every value that human beings perceive as such is in fact so. From a Christian perspective, it is prayerful attention to the Spirit of God present in the world and moving human hearts toward God that opens up, orients, and often reorients culture to authentic human meanings, ptirposes, and values. An observation on "American culture" before proceeding. There is no longer one unified and unifying American culture, if ever there was one. In the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, Mass is Human beings create or participate in creating worlds of meaning, value, and purpose by means of culture. March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces celebrated every Sunday in over forty languages and dialects. At Hollywood High School, students speak more than eighty languages and dialects. Whatever may be the sense of "American" character and identity communicated in the rhetoric of "motherhood and apple pie," does this image speak any longer to such a range of people? When, in such contexts, inherited cultural forms begin to fragment, it should come as no surprise. It is no less surprising when traditional forms of the vowed religious life become semantically empty. They no longer "speechify" the meanings, purposes, and values that are perceived and pursued as central to the vowed religious life. Culture: Coming Apart at the Seams Using an image from life in southern California, we may liken our culture to a house situated on a fault line.There is a fissure running down the center of the treasury holding what is dearest to us. The culture in which we were formed seems to be coming apart at the seams. There is seepage and spillage everywhere. Bad news. But the good news is that inherited, deeply cherished cultural forms may be giving way so that something else may come into being. To speak of culture entails talking about 'its prevailing wo~'ldview. What was the worldview in which most United States religious were formed? What was the dominant view of human life and history? What was the view of the relation between God and the world that, I suggest, is now giving way to new ways of perceiving and being? ~ First is the boundless confidence in the capacity of the human mind to know everything by means of the so-called scientific method, an affirmation of the power of reason (very narrowly understood) to think its way through just about anything. Such a lofty understanding of the powers of reason began to wane once appropriate attention was given to the facts of history, to the enormity of human suffering, which baffles and disorients even the most serene exercise of reason.2 Second, in such a worldview, there is the conviction that individuals can make and shape themselves. Together with this, there is an unprecedented affirmation of individual rights and liberties. This affirmation of individual rights and liberties enshrined in the U.S. Constitution can often eclipse the pursuit of a common good. Review for Religious Third, with roots long, deep, and strong in Christian history, a marked dualism characterizes this worldview. In such a perspective, ¯ all reality in every sphere of life is divided into two parts, with the implication that one is superior to, and dominant over, the other: mind over matter, objective over subjective, intellect over affect, the analytical over the intuitive, prose over poetry, God over humanity, humanity over nature, male over female, white over black, yellow, red, and brown, clergy over lay, American and Western European over the Third World, rich over poor, speech over silence, the strong and powerful over the wounded and the weak. The fourth feature of the worldview which shaped many of us is perhaps the most problematic of all. History is viewed as inevitably progressive. Change is always improvement, and whatever is new is better. Progress is regarded as inevitable and therefore beyond moral adjudication. Whatever can be done must be done and therefore should be done. The horrors of history, the sufferings of individuals and of whole peoples, no matter how large and how utterly incomprehensible, are seen as unseemly wrinkles in the unfolding of an inevitably better future. The sentiment lingers. It is not at all uncommon to hear from undergraduate students something like: "God must have had a plan for eliminating six million Jews. He permitted it to happen to the Jews in order to teach them a lesson for their own benefit and the benefit of humanity. We just have to accept it." Here, no matter what happens, God is in charge, controlling the universe like an absolute monarch. Today we stand at a juncture. In starker terms, we are trying desperately to straddle a fault line. The inherited worldview and cultural contours briefly described above are crumbling. Our framework is in fragments, but much of it is still in our marrow. We are reluctant to relinquish this way of perceiving and being in the world. We are slow to give up. Even though we recognize that it no longer rings true, we nonetheless cling to it tenaciously because we are not yet altogether clear about what is still coming to be. From the perspective of the student of Christian spirituality, the worldview that so shaped us has failed to satisfy the deepest longings of the human heart. The worldview that so shaped us has failed to satisfy the deepest longings of the human heart. March-April 1999 A Downey * Luminous Traces The construal of the human being as a self-made self and the unprecedented affirmation of the superiority of reason and of individual rights and liberties are not easily reconcilable with present modes of perceiving and being in the world. In contemporary Christian spirituality, there is a deeper realization that the human person is not to be defined principally as a rational animal with separate faculties of intellect and will, a composite of body and soul often at odds with one another.-Rather the person is a whole, a being defined by heart, affectus, affectivity--the capacity to be touched and drawn into relationship and interpersonal communion with another, others, and God. More importantly, people today live with an uneasy sense that there is no longer a big picture. For many people, deeply religious people no less, the world does not hang together, the center does not hold, in the way it was once thought. This puts a bold question mark before our understanding of God and the nature of God's relation to the world. God the all-powerful monarch, manipulating and controlling the universe, is simply beyond belief. It is precisely this understanding of God that cannot be sustained, and with it the worldview that rests upon it. Further, efforts to reach even the slightest measure 0fagreement on the nonnegotiable elements of a coherent worldview seem futile. Consequently, no commonly held values provide a sense of shared purpose. As but one example, over the course of fifteen years of undergraduate teaching, I would ask students year by year: "What do you value most of all? Is there anything that you would be willing to give your life for, perhaps even to die for?" Invariably there was reticence, indeed reluctance~ in the face of my question. But eventually there seemed to be some measure of agreement that "family" is what is to be valued above all else. But, when pressed to speak about the nature o~ "family," all thirty-five or more students would have different understandings of what "family" means and why this slippery term designates or suggests a value at all. It has become increasingly difficult to arrive at a common-sense understanding of "family" or of what "family values" might be. In addition to the loss of a big picture, there is a growing conviction that the future is not inevitably progressive. Today there is clearer recognition that change is not always for the better and that the future is not necessarily brighter. That is to say that history is riddled with interruption, disorientation, and a sense of randomness, indeed chance? Not everything that happens should Review for Religious be assigned to God's providence. As a variation on the theme of a rather tasteless bumper sticker: Things just happen! But the interruptive character of history, thought on first reading to be irreconcilably at odds with God's providential plan, is not of necessity so and may in fact be more in keeping with biblical understandings of God's action in history, specifically in the person of the Christ, than the view of God's providence characteristic of the inherited worldview now passing away.4 Much of what has contributed to our fundamental sense of meaning, purpose, and value is now a shambles, no matter how much we care to think otherwise: family, neighborhood, political and economic institutions, and religious life as we have known it. Efforts at retrenchment and restoration may meet with ostensibly satisfactory results in the short term, but, no matter how big the shoulders trying to hold up these and other elements of a culture-in- collapse, another course is required, not simply desirable. Rather than trying to hold up what can no longer stand on its own, what is called for is a clearing of the house, making room, so that something new can come into being. What is coming to be may find no clear precedent in human or Christian history. And it is precisely because it finds no clear precedent in Christian history that it may come into being by the presence and power of the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Christ. As these outer worlds of meaning and purpose and value splinter, fragment, and shatter, there is a strong tendency to turn inward for stmething reliable. Many currents in spirituality today are characterized by self-absorption, self-preoccupation, and self-fixation. Spirituality is thought to be about interiority, often to the exclusion of the wider spheres of life. The movement inward appears to go faster and faster, if not deeper and deeper, as outer worlds of meaning continue to collapse with increasing rapidity. All of this seems like very bad news, but it need not be. The hallmark of our age is the self-emptying of forms because inherited cultural forms cannot hold God. And, as they are emptied and found wanting, perhaps there will once again be room enough for the God of constant coming, whose gift always and everywhere overspills all our efforts to lock it in, pin it down in tightly knit thought forms, theological systems, and patterns of religious living. There is, then, a reason for the hope that lies within us (see 1 P 3:15): the Christ who is always and everywhere drawing us forward cannot be chained by cultural forms and worldviews, which, March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces however adequate they may be in the service of the truth, are always necessarily limited, partial. They cannot contain God. They are unable to hold the fullness of God. Recall that culture is language and is second nature to us. But no matter how deeply we are indebted to our inherited cultural forms, to the language which is second nature to us, God's giving overspills any and all mediation. Today there is a deepening sense that God is incomprehensible mystery, beneath and beyond all our efforts to dissect, scrutinize, and systematize. From the perspective of a student of Christian spiritual and mystical traditions, even as we are stalled at a cultural crossroads, we are being invited to enter more deeply into the apophatic way, to be educated in the Spirit's school of unknowing, to proceed on the path toward a dazzling darkness at the heart of which is the One whose name above all names is not God.5 For even the name God is no proper name for the One whose name beyond and beneath all naming is Love. And Life. And Light. Even and especially in the darkness. The Rhetoric of Culture: Choice over Commitment Though something new is coming to be, we are still dogged by elements of that earlier worldview that pose serious obstacles to growth and development in the spiritual life in general and the vowed religious life in pa(ticular. These may be thought of as deep wounds inflicted by our culture, whatever one may care to say about its merits. More specifically, they constitute sometimes seemingly insurmountable hurdles to comm. itment of any sort. In the not too distant past, it was common enough to give a good bit of attention to the so-called "enemies of the spiritual life." In approaches to religious formation, "particular friendships" were often viewed in such terms. Today there are indeed enemies of the spiritual life, but they are quite different from those identified in earlier approaches to formation. They must be tackled by a different strategy. As I see it, the three major obstacles that must be hurdled in any approach to commitment, specifically a lifelong commitment to a community of persons, are narcissism, pragmatism, and unrelenting resdessness.6 The first is related to the disproportionate emphasis in the culture on individual rights and liberties. We are inclined to think of ourselves first and finally as individuals who choose; or elect, to be in relationship. The self is thought to be the first and final Review for Religious arbiter, not only of meaning, purpose, and yalue, but also of all reality. Individual fights and liberties and the ability of individuals to make and shape themselves by choosing from among a multiplicity of options is, in the minds of many, of preeminent value. When traveling in different parts of the world, I often ask what impression others have of the culture or cultures in the United States. Invariably the response is something akin to: "You are very practical people. You are achievers. You get things done. You are doers." Indeed we are a practical people, pragmatists. In the mind of the pragmatist, the truth is what works. And, if it works, it must be true. We have become the people of the bottom line. We are governed by a preoccupation with outcomes, assessments, and five-year plans. We all too readily think of ourselves and others in instrumentalist, pragmatic terms. Created goods, even human lives, have become commodities. Everything is considered in terms of what gets achieved, done, accomplished, produced to satisfy the needs of some consumer. It may be useful here to recall: "If you are what you do, when you don't, then you're not." A cameo may convey my meaning here. On a visit to Santa Barbara on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, I strolled from the beach to the caf~ for a cup of one of those designer coffees. Seated near me were two young women, perhaps seniors in high school or entry-level undergrads. They were hunched over huge textbooks with graphs and charts of some sort, reminiscent of those in my sophomore-year geometry book. Basking in the splendor of Santa Barbara's light while sipping away at their Starbucks, the two were studying very hard--judging from their knitted brows. In due course one looked up and said to the other in a tone at once exasperated and apodictic: "Look, if it's not common sense, it's wrong!" Hers is the voice of an age impatient with the speculative, unwilling to stay with an idea for a long time, unable to engage in the discipline of thinking something through, lacking the endurance to follow an argument to its logical conclusion. Unless it cashes out, has empirically verifiable results, some clear practical merit, why be bothered? Speculation, as in the commonplace "ivory-tower speculation," has become a nasty word. We are a people who are unrelentingly resdess. We are. hungry for experience. We live in a culture in which we are urged to keep on going, exploring options, choosing from among a myriad of possibilities. Another cameo: For me as a child in that Irish Catholic March-April 1999 Downe~ ¯ Luminous Traces village within the city of Philadelphia, the trick was to convince Mother and Dad to allow us one half hour in front of the television, after we had been out to play and after we had done our homework. If permitted to watch an evening TV program, my sister and I would sit glued to the television set for thirty minutes without budging. Now when Mikey, my twelve-year-old nephew, walks in the door of my home, I remind him, "No surfing in my house!" It is not the surfboard I have in mind, of course, but the TV remote control. Mikey has learned that in my home he is welcome to watch a TV program, for much longer indeed than half an hotir, but for him this takes real discipline. It is altogether different from channel surfing-~staying with this station for two minutes and that one for three minutes and the next one until it is time for ~he commercial. Mikey's TV wanderlust is not uncommon, and it is symptomatic of a much deeper wandering, squandering perhaps, of the human spirit. Unrelenting restlessness is manifest in many expressions of spirituality today. We tend to move from one thing to the next, from one approach to spirituality to another, first taking some tips from the Ignatian school, then making a retreat at a Benedictine monastery, perhaps a little lec~io divina. The "spiritual quest" can become little more than a cruise down the spirituality superhighway, gobbling up soundbite supplies of spiritual wisdom that "work for me." If it does not work for me, then I move on. Narcissism, pragmatism, restlessness! These are the enemies of the spiritual life today. They are cultural wounds, and you and I carry them with us in making, cultivating, and sustaining our religious commitments. They are in our bloodstream. We think of the individual as first and final in a way that blinds us to the relational matrix of all life.7 We are numb to the simple truth that absolutely everything is related to everything else. We are pragmatists to the core. ~Fhe fact that monks continue to rise at three in the morning to pray to God in the dark long before the dawn is virtually incomprehensible, in our culture. What good does that do? What difference does it make? What are the outcomes, the results, of praying in the dark? Why pray at all? Why live in a monastery? At least go out and do something with yourself in the real world! Make a contribution to society! Make a difference! Do something! Anything! And we are restless, indeed driven. In a culture in which the rhetoric of choice has rendered mute the language of commitment, Review for Religious many of us find it hard to stay at anything for very long. Our age is characterized by impermanence and provisionality. We find it difficult to stay with anything, and be really alive and passionate about anything, day after day, week by week, year by year. Diversion is what is constant. We move on when there seem to be no immediate results. We resist going back to the book every single day, listening long and lovingly to that Word beneath and beyond all the words, staying with it long enough to hear the beating of the heart of God beneath and beyond the cacophony and clutter of our own making, staying still long enough to find ourselves in God and there to rest--even and especially when such staying does not "work for me" or "do" any good whatsoever. The Inbreaking Spirit As cultural forms collapse around us, the appropriate response lies not in trying to hold on to them or hold them up by sheer force of will or by fuzzy references to the will of God. Nor does it lie in accommodation to the individualism, pragmatism, and unbridled restlessness characteristic of our age. It may lie in the cultivation of forms of life more in keeping with the person of Christ, the presence and power of the Spirit, and the apocalyptic sting of the gospel. Just as Peggy O'Donnell left the world in 1958 and embraced an alternative culture, the new world of Rosemont, so too the future of religious life lies in patterns of living that stand in marked contrast to a culture-in-collapse now increasingly recognized to have been a bad bill of goods. Neither is ready retrenchment or hasty rebuilding an appropriate response amid cultural fragmentation. Rather, the more effective strategy would be to create space, provide room, for the coming of something that is not of our own making. This calls for deep reserves of hope. It is precisely at the moment when our own efforts fail, when we are unable to .make and sustain our commitment, that the Spirit comes in the gift of hope--breaking in on our willful efforts to hold together and hold up what is broken, even and especially our deepest selves. In our times, isn't hope the most important virtue? And the most necessary? And the rarest? We live in a disruptive and disorienting age. On every street, behind every other door, lives someone who is deeply disheartened if not actually despairing. This may be brought on by people's awareness of massive and March-Aprll 1999 --129 Downe~ ¯ Luminous Traces meaningless death and the randomness of violence, by the onset of early illness, by the loss of a loved one or a job or a sense of meaning and value--or the loss of cherished ways of perceiving and being in the world. Our inability to relinquish deeply ingrained patterns of narcissism, pragmatism, and restlessness signals a crisis of hope and beckons us to deeper levels of willingness to be open to this gift. What exactly is the hope that breaks in, amid the shambles, as the gift of the Spirit? As I see it, there is nothing more important to the human being than hope. People can live without faith, and many do. In our own day, certainly, many people live without explicitly religious faith, and evidence of loveless lives abounds. But people simply do not live without hope. They cannot. Hope is "the very center of a human being.''8 Though we need hope more than anything else in life, little has been written about it.9 Compared with faith and love, hope has been given little attention in the traditions of Christian theology and spirituality. Hope may be likened to the proverbial middle child, the neglected one among the theological virtues, sandwiched in between faith, which makes the first move, and love, which is preeminent in most readings of Christian Scripture, tradition, and theology. Hope is the drawing force of all human initiative. It looks to the coming of the new, the never before, the undreamt of. Hope is a pregnant, many-layered .concept. We can distinguish in it shades of meaning that the French language, for example, conveys with different terms--espoir and esperance. We can make the distinction between hope for success (espoir) and something deeper: the anticipation of a desired good, a desire-filled wanting, in a word, esperance. In a more metaphysical and religious sense, hope, esperance, is a movement of the person by which we relativize the present and all its prospects of success so as to be open to something that we realize can come only as gift. The more unpropitious the context in which we demonstrate hope, the deeper the hope is. Hope is precisely what we have when we do not have something. Hope is not the same thing as optimism that things will go our way, or turn out well. It is rather the certainty that something makes sense, is worth the cost, regardless of how it might turn out. Hope is a sense of the possible. It strains ahead, seeking a way behind and.beyond every dead end. Hope moves in three steps. First, what I hope for I do not yet Review for Religious have or see. Hope's object is future. Second, what I hope for may be difficult. But, third, I just might have it! There are no guarantees, but it just might be possible. In short, hope is directed to a future good that is hard but not impossible to attain. Its attainment, though, is in the mode of reception. Hope is the retrieval of possibilities that can only come as gift letting something come into life that is not self-generated. But with the gift comes judgment. The counterpart of hope is the admission of failure; the condition for the possibility of the Spirit's inbreaking in the gift of hope. Indeed hope of the deepest kind, esperance, calls for humility, a willingness to be judged by the gospel, to submit to its apocalyptic sting. Historical events interrupt our sense of order and cohesion. Our educational institutions have lost sight of the purposes for which they were founded. In light of the Lordship of Christ, it becomes clearer that our cultural forms, our sense of the fixedness of meaning, our grand schemes for improvement, have failed. Though hope for the future cannot come unless there is a willingness to admit failure and be judged by the light of Christ's gospel, there is in us a tenacious resistance to accepting the fact that we have failed. Without humility, poverty of spirit, and filial fear of the Lord, we remain unable to face the simple fact that our lives as persons and as a people are deeply fragmented. But the willingness to admit that the way we have done it until now is no way into the future liberates us to attend to other possibilities. It allows us to be open to voices and visions that were never heard or seen in earlier ways of perceiving and being. Admitting failure in light of the Lordship of Christ and by the presence, and power of the Spirit renders us free to receive the many gifts that, even and especially amid the ruins, are still on offer. When we relinquish the big-shoulders strategy of holding up what is falling down, we can attend to the shimmering shards amid the crumbling of our worldview and our culture, even and especially our religious culture. It is not at all uncommon to find that what we have put our energies into, indeed what we have staked our life on, proves unreliable, and that what we have affirmed in faith is no longer believable. What, then, is the reason for the hope? Can we continue to hope in such circumstances? It is precisely when faith crumbles There is nothing more important to the human being than hope. March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces and love grows dim that hope really begins.'° It is in the wonder and weakness of one's faith that we find the real meaning of hope. For hope is the willingness to not give up precisely when one draws no consolation from faith. Hope does not t~ to determine how God's ways will be shown. It remains open for all new and astonishing manifestations of the divine presence. It is in our most vulnerable state that God's gift of the Spirit, in hope, comes. Hope !s indeed God's gift to the vulnerable. It is only when we are exhausted, speechless, impotent--that is, only in our radical brokenness and vulnerability, by which we participate in the kenosis of God--that God can find room enough to enter and sustain us. The hopelessness and emptiness of the darkness of our age is precisely the condition that makes hope possible. And it is in the self-emptying of inherited forms of religious life and communal commitment that we can find room for what is yet to come. Amid the ruins, our consolation and our hope are found in the One who has left behind a trace of his presence even amid the crumbling?' However much we may wish it otherwise, sometimes it is no more than a trace of God's nearness that we have. For those who are rocked and shaken to their core, shattered by the inbreaking Spirit who is the very gift of hope, shimmering traces may have to suffice, enabling us to take the next step, and the next, toward what is yet coming to be--as the gift of God's giving. From Community to Communion It is clear that inherited expressions of the vowed religious life cannot escape the self-emptying of forms that is the hallmark of our age. This gives cause for lament, and for hope. The future of religious life is ineluctably tied to the willingness of vowed members to lament what has been, what is now passing, and-- rather than trying to rebuild from what little remains of the past-- to create spaces where something of God's constant coming as gift can be recognized, named, and celebrated in memory and in hope. Forms of religious life as we have known it are giving way to something new, new forms of religious life, perhaps, but without clear precedent in Christian history. In the midst of the crumbling of forms in which community and communal commitment played a large role, lamentation can give rise to hope. As community identity " seems on the brink of collapse and communal commitments seem stretched to the breaking point, there may be gained a glimpse of Review for Religious the deeper mystery of interpersonal communion. Is it at all possible that what is presently operative in religious communities is a self-emptying of forms so that vowed members may participate more fully in the mystery of communion? The fundamental Christian mystery is that God is a communion of persons in loving relationship: Father, Son, and Spirit toward us, for us, with us, in us. The very being of God is to be in relation, to be toward us, for us, with us, in us. To be created in the image of God is to be created for relationship, for communion, for establishing, cultivating, sustaining relationships based on reciprocity, mutuality, and equality rooted in the mystery of the divine perichoresis~ To say that the whole world is created in God's image is to say that the whole of creation, every inch and ounce of it, is created for relationship. Growing in the divine likeness, reaching our true destiny as persons, is realized as we participate ever more fully in the mystery of this holy communion. And this we do as we seek to establish and sustain right relationship with self, another, others, God, and with every living creature22 Various expressions of religious life in community have sought to embody this mystery of communion. Community life and communal commitment give form to, or bring to speech, the mystery of trinitarian communion. Re!igious communities and communal commitment have been expressive of, embodiments of, a language of communion. But there is no strict equation between community and communion. The relational matrix at the heart of all the living will not pass away. It alone is the ground on which we stand, and which will withstand the splintering and shattering of the forms that have sought to speak its mystery. Butit may now be time to "speechify" this mystery of communion through the articulation of new cultures of communion that express more adequately the emergent understandings of God, human life, history, the world, and the church. It is quite possible tha~ the good word amid all this hard news is that vowed members of religious institutes have occasion to lean into, fall into, the mystery of communion--the very mystery of God whose very being is to be in relationship. This holy communion of persons divine and human is beneath and beyond all the forms. It is Hope is allowing something to come into life that is not self-generated. March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces the gift given by the Word whose name is Love beneath and beyond all other words. Amid the rubble the Spirit of God in hope comes, perhaps offering an alternative possibility to the worldview which shaped us to the core, offering in its place the possibility of creating a culture of communion as a gentle corrective in the face of the narcissism, pragmatism, and restlessness of our age. At this stage it is all too easy to offer forecasts about the forms religious life will take, in view of such factors as greater collaboration with lay associates and the need for a sharper ecclesial identity and a stronger sense of corporate mission according to the charism of an institute's founders. It would be easy to provide practical directives for the reconfiguration of community as participation in the mystery of communion. But doing so might be one more instance of clinging to the culture that is passing, of holding on to a worldview that would offer a consoling sense of certainty regarding an inevitably brighter future--replete with false promises and unreliable guarantees. Forecasts, clear pictures, and precise directions are at odds with the logic of the trace. What is yet to be will be shown as we make our way into the fullness of the trinitarian communion by following the traces, the luminous traces Christ has left in the gospel. Further, to see in Christ the trace of the trinitarian communion in which we live even now. Whatever new forms of religious life and communal commitment are coming to be will be cultivated and sustained only by prayerful participation in this holy communion wherein we may be given the courage to live with just a trace. Then follow it. In the shattering of ~hat we hold most dear, it is possible to see with new eyes, as if for the first time. Everywhere there are luminous traces of the mystery of communion, hidden from those who keep squinting.and straining for a neat and tidy worldview, or from those who want to build a religious culture of the rubble of the past. As religious communities continue to stretch their numbers and splinter yet further, astonishing acts of faith and love and hope continually spring forth between the cracks. Vowed religious go on, convinced that they will find a way forward. And, if there is no clear path ahead, they will make a way by responding to the gift of God's constant coming; they will follow the traces deeper and deeper into the mystery of communion between and among persons both human and divine. The traces shimmer, sometimes so brilliantly as to blind the clear-sighted: a dazzling darkness! At this juncture in the history of religious life, vowed members in Review for Religious communities of commitment are learning from the inside out the wisdom at the heart of the Christian mystic's experience of Light: If you want to be sure of the path you are on, then close your eyes and walk in the dark. It is hope, and hope alone, that takes the next step. And the next. Notes l Though I am describing the shift from "modernity" to "post[-I modernity," I am avoiding use of that terminology here. Helpful descrip-tions of the emergent post[-]modern consciousness include: Stanley J. Grenz, A Primer on Postmodernism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996); Richard Kearney, The Wake of Imagination: Toward a Post-Modern Culture (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1988); Paul Lakeland, Postmodernity: Christian Identity in a Fragvnented Age (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1997); David Tracy, Plurality and Ambiguity: He~vneneutics, Religion, Hope (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1987). 2 For a good example of the turn to historical fact in Christian the-ology, see Johann Baptist Metz, Faith in History and Society: Toward a Practical Fundamental Theology (New York: Seabury, 1980). See also Johann Baptist Metz and JOrgen Moltmann, Faith and Future: Essays on Theology, Solidarity, and Modernity (Concilium; Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995). 3 See, for example, Elizabeth Johnson, "Does God Play Dice? Divine Providence and Chance," Theological Studies 57, no. 1 (March 1996): 3- 18. 4 For a treatment of the interruptive character of history, see The Holocaust as Interruption (Concilium), ed. Elisabeth Schiissler Fiorenza and David Tracy (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1984). 5 For a treatment of some of the issues involved in naming the God who cannot be named, see Jean-Luc Marion, God without Being, trans. Thomas A. Carlson (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995). 6 See Ronald Rolheiser, The Shattered Lantern: Rediscovering the Felt Presence of God (New York: Crossroad, 1995). 7 While others have emphasized the relational character of God and its implications for human and Christian life, I am particularly indebted to the contribution of Catherine Mowry LaCugna, God for Us: The Trinity and Christian Life (San Francisco: Harper, 1991). 8 William E Lynch, Images of Hope: Imagination as Healer of the Hopeless (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1965), p.9. 9 Lynch, p. 21. 10 For a fuller treatment of my understanding of the dynamics of hope, see Michael Downey, Hope Begins V~here Hope Begins (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1998). ~ Post[-]modernist Jacques Derrida uses .the image of the trace to March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces avoid speaking of presence. The image is also used extensively by Emmanuel Levinas and Paul Ricoeur. In Ricoeur the term is associated with the distanciation of the text. What is found in the narrative of an event but the trace of the event? There is no immediate access through any kind of historical reconstruction or through the forging of univocal meaning. It is intriguing that Th4r~se of Lisieux drew on the image of the trace in speaking of her faith and confidence even in the depth and dark-ness of her trial as she neared death. The title of this presentation derives from TMr~se. She writes: "Since Jesus has reascended to heaven, I can follow him only in the traces he has left; but how luminous these traces are! How perfumed! I have only to cast a glance in the Gospels . " See her Story of a Soul, trans. John Clarke (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1976), p. 258. ,2 For a treatment of the implications of a thoroughly relational understanding of God for the Christian spiritual life, see Catherine Mowry LaCugna and Michael Downey, "Trinitarian Spirituality," in The New Dictionmy of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), pp. 968-982. Easter (at a retreat house surrounded by cemeteries) Our propensity (as part of nature) is to f!ll up emptiness. Graves hunger for bodies and for earth and, in time, more earth as,flesh diminishes to nothing. But emptiness is essential for God. The hollow of a nest is just right for hatching and only when egg and tomb lie empty does life emerge. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Community Living: Beginning the Conversation Fmor several years I have had the growing perception that com-unity living may be the Achilles' heel of contemporary apos-tolic religious life. ("Achilles' heel" means a point of special vulnerability. Referring to the ancient myth, the dictionary defines it as "a small but mortal weakness.") Before I proceed, let me make two clarifications abdut this perception of mine. First, I see a prob-lem not with community in the abstract (an ideal which we all affirm), but with community living, an experience that is tangible and daily. Secdnd, I sense that our vulnerability consists in our inability to see what this commitment, this ideal, really requires of us. Often the mere mention of the topic brings about an awkward silence, embarrassed dismissals, or defensive equivocations. We have all heard, and perhaps even voiced, statements like these: "Community doesn't mean living under the same roof" . "My ministry is so demanding that I need time and space apart just to keep going" . "I don't want to participate in a basically dysfunctional lifestyle". "My parish [or my ministry team] is my community" . "There are no opportuni6es for community living in my locale" . and, from someone relocating her ministry, "I refuse to go from community to community and ask if they are willing to have me." Doris Gottemoeller RSlVl wrote "Religious Life: V~rhere Does It Fit in Today's Church?" in our March-April 1998 issue. The present article was her contribution to the sy~nposium at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in ~,rernersville, Pennsylvania, in October 1998. Her address remains Sisters of Mercy of the A~nericas; 8300 Colesville Road #300; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Community Living I believe that our inability or unwillingness to answer the questions of what community living means today and what our common obligation or commitment is weakens our credibility internally and externally. We ourselves have failed to get a clear vision of community that we can agree on and live together in, and outsiders take note of a number of confusing appearances. When we are ambiguous about this significant dimension of consecrated life, can we invite potential new members to explore this life? A number of factors and circumstances have brought us to this point of confusion and uncertainty. The adaptation and renewal mandated by Vatican Council II led us to discard many styles and expressions of community that are no longer relevant to contemporary culture and ministry. Economic factors such as the loss of parish convents, the conversion of former motherhouses to other uses, and the withdrawal from many sponsored ministries (hospitals, colleges, high schools) meant that sisters have had to seek other places to live. These are usually rented (and therefore impermanent), not associated with a ministry site, and able to accommodate only a small number--one, two, or three sisters. In these transitions we were clearer about what we were discarding than what we were choosing. (Indeed, we make choices of living arrangements today amid a flurry of considerations: companionship; cost; proximity to work, family, community members, other friends, and doctors; comfort; witness to simplicity; and so forth. All of them are legitimate, but not all are equally significant to the congregation's mission.) Moreover, after a site for community living has been chosen, there is often no set of expectations concerning behavior in one another's regard. A further indication of the silence that surrounds this issue is the nonreception given the 1994 document on community published by the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL): "Fraternal Life in Community." In my view this document is a clear and sympathetic statement of the present situation of community living, offered "to support the efforts made by many communities of religious, both men and women, to improve the quality" of their community life (§6). Its composition was preceded by co.nsultation with religious in many parts of the world. It has, however, been largely unnoticed or ignored by religious--for several possible reasons. The first is, of course, its unfortunate tide.~ A second possible reason was voiced by a sister in my community: "It gives an excellent presentation of Review for Religious ? the present situation, but the solutions offered are not helpful." Is this not tantamount to an admission that the responsibility for finding solutions belongs with us? A third possible reason is the widespread resistance to any consideration of the topic--in other words, our Achilles' heel. We were not yet ready in 1994 to entertain any discussion of this issue that lies close to the heart of our vocation. Perhaps we are still not ready. But in the interest of testing that premise--and of beginning a conversation--I would offer some starting points. These reflections are offered in response to six questions: (1) What are we talking about when we talk about community life? (2) What is its theological basis? (3) What can we say about a spirituality for community living? (4) What is the role of leadership in community living? (5) What are some special challenges to living community life today? (6) What can we do to renew this dimension of our community life? Note that these questions do not focus on the past, on our previous experience of community living, or on all the factors that have altered it or contributed to our present situation. Some current resources for the reflection are "Fraternal Life in Community" and the apostolic exhortation on consecrated life, Vita consecrata. In addition, and more significantly, each congregation brings its own charism, mission, and experience to the consideration of community living, and the insights shared and directions chosen will not necessarily be the same for each congregation. What are we talking about when we talk about community living? It is impossible to describe community living in a way that anticipates every circumstance, style, and modality. As noted above, we are not talking about an abstract idea, but about a social experience. I would suggest that, put as simply as possible, community living is what happens when two or more people relate to one another in a significant, mutually beneficial, and ongoing way. A significant relationship is one which is weighty, valuable, more than casual; it is multidimensional, not just spiritual, financial, social, or spatial. It is more than spiritual, that is, meeting regularly to pray together. It is more than financial, that is, sharing resources and accountability for the use of Community living is what happens when two or more people relate to one another in a significant, mutually beneficial, and ongoing way. March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Community Living them, It Jis more than social, that is, gathering for periodic card games, meals, nights out, and so forth. It is more than spatial, that is, living under the same roof or in close proximity to one another. The relationship is significant because all of these dimensions are integrated in a mutually beneficial and ongoing way. A mutually beneficial relationship contributes to the greater integrity and well-being of each participant. It is not crippled by immature dependencies, but strives for a healthy adult mutuality of responsible caring. "Carrying one another's burdens" in time of sickness or special need is an obligfition and a privilege of community life. The benefits sought and exchanged are on many levels, for example, relationship, spirituality, ministry, and, in some cases, mentorship in a new way of life. Finally, I would suggest that a bona. fide experience of community living is ongoing. It is a stable, predictable arrangement, not a succession of sporadic episodes or chance encounters:~ In essence, community members say to one another, "I will be there for youl you c~n count on me," whatever the circumstance or need. Continuity is essential to build trust and undergird mutual expectations. Notice that this description of community living does not say anything about specific situations such as living alone, in twosomes, or in large or small communities. It should be clear, however, that "two or more people in a significant, stable, mutually growthful relationship" does not include busy professionals who only cohabit for the sake of convenier~ce and economic efficiency. It does not include "boarding houses" where anonymity and inde~pendence are the chief values. Instead, .we are talking about good-faith efforts to live a principal value of religious life. With few exceptions it will include a common residence. What is the theological basis for community living? This is a question calculated to make the eyes glaze over, because it sounds so theoretical. It is, however, the fundamental question of motivation. Why do we choose a life of community? Beyond economy, efficiency, convenience, friendship, or natural attraction, what are the reasons that are rooted' in faith, that speak to the core of our identity as apostolic religious? Are there reasons which flow from our commitment toseek God that we call a~religious vocation? I would suggest two lines of reasoning or justification for community living, starting from personal call or vocation and from ecclesial identity. Review for Religious Each of us experienced a call to a way of life, an invitation from Jesus Christ to a life of greater intimacy. We joined our various congregations because membership in that congregation makes pursuit of that way of life possible. A "way of life" is a constellation of fundamental life choices having an internal coherence and consistency. One's way of life is defined by choices about relationship to God, to the Christian community, to sexuality, to possessions, to companions, to those in need. The way of life known as religious life is a radical response to the call of Jesus who says, "I am the way." The internal coherence of a way of life means that all the parts reinforce one another. For example, community life supports and is shaped by the practice of evangelical poverty. Together we share our earnings to provide for our needs and the needs of others. Together we decide how much is enough, whether for today or for our future. A single person living alone in the world could take a vow of poverty, but it would not be the same vow that religious take. It would differ in its expression and its obligations. Similarly, community life supports and is shaped by the practice of the vow of celibacy. Together we can accept the loneliness of unmarried life because of the companionship of one another. Together we witness to the surpassing love of Christ Jesus, who calls us to be for one another in community. And so forth. Obedience, prayer, mission-- all are shaped by and within community. Community living is not an accidental dimension of the way of life we have chosen, but a determinant of the way in which we realize every other dimension. This assertion needs special emphasis with respect to ministry. Before the synod on consecrated life, there was a fear expressed in some quarters that the outcome would be an affirmation of "consecration" over against "mission," of being vs. doing, and that this emphasis would be used to promote a quasi-monastic lifestyle. In actuality, however, the synod document expresses a beautiful integration 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 mission, as was the whole of Jesus' life" (§72). In other words, the life itself, in every dimension and in its totality, is apostolic. Therefore, if the demands of ministry are such as to diminish adherence to the other aspeCts--for example, prayer or community life or obedience--then an imbalance has been created which needs to be corrected. A reflection on the relationship of ministry to community is a March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Community Living good segue into a reflection on the ecclesial identity of religious life and its implications for community living. Vita consecrata presents community living as an especially eloquent sign of ecclesial community, that is, of the church's fundamental identity. Community demonstrates that sharing in trinitarian communion can change human relationships and create a new type of solidarity, not built on family ties or natural attraction, but on common values and commitments. "In this way it speaks to people both of the beauty of fraternal communidn and of the ways which actually lead to it. Consecrated persons live 'for' God and 'from' God, and precisely for this reason they are able to bear witness to the reconciling power of grace, which overcomes the divisive tendencies present in" the human heart and in society" (§41). Community is described as a "God-enlightened space in which to experience the presence of the risen Lord" (§42). It is a life in communion, which signifies and enriches the church and renders it better able to carry out its mission. Of course, being a sign of something implies a certain visibility. We have to ask: To what extent is our experience of community living visible? Who knows that sisters are present in an apartment building, a neighborhood, or a parish, and what does it sayto them? People in the world today hunger for an experience of community, for evidence that it is possible. In fact, a few years ago a group of intellectuals and public-policy experts formed a new movement called the communitarian movement. Its goal is to strengthen participatory democracy and to call on citizens to balance rampant individualism with a concern for the common good. Healthy religious communities balance individual needs with the common good day after day, in small ways and large. We do it out of love for God and for the sake of mission. If we find ways to share this experience with others, it can make the church more visible and be a gift to the world. What can we say about a spirituality for community? If the theological question deals with the why of community, the spirituality question deals with the how. What kind of spiritual focus, what kinds of practices, nourish and support community life? The first hallmark of community is that it be apostolic or outer-directed. "Not for ourselves alone" should be the watchword. As we said above, consecrated life is apostolic in its very essence. It is not that persons in religious congregations do apostolic works or have individual ministries, but that the whole way of life is for the sake of Review for Religious making visible and attractive the love of God. Community life, therefore, as an intrinsic element of the consecrated life, should be mission oriented in its intentionality and expression. An apostolic community welcomes neighbors and friends and even, at times, aliens and strangers. An apostolic community weaves the needs of the world into its spiritual consciousness and common prayer. An apostolic community shares its resources with the needy. An apostolic community responds to the concerns and priorities of the larger congregation. An apostolic community welcomes new members and introduces them to the way of life. In short, an apostolic community is not turned in on itself, isolated and self-sufficient, but open to receive and share with others. Community life is nourished by dialogu4 and prayer, ritual and celebrations. We are embodied people who need tangible expressions and symbols of shared values and commitments. From time to time we need to say what we believe in, what we question and wonder about, what we care about, and we need to hear others do the same. Every local community will have its own points of intersection, its own rhythm of coming together to speak to one another and together to speak to God. Many of today's religious entered their congregations at a time when the lifestyle was burdened with customs and practices that were no longer appropriate for contemporary life. In rejecting these, however, we sometimes lost sight of the fac.t that we still need tangible expressions of common beliefs and values. In a healthy community life, regular expectations, mutually agreed on, are complemented by spontaneous gatherings and special events. Prayer together furnishes moments of special intimacy. The congregation, in its constitutions and policies, should articulate some expectations that are common to all settings, while leaving room for local creativity. It is too great a burden for local groups to renegotiate everything every year or whenever there is a change in the membership. The common expectations should incorporate congregational feasts, texts, and traditions. Community life requires asceticism. No surprise here! We all Community demonstrates that sharing in trinitarian communion can change human relationships and create a new type of solidarity. March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Communi~ Living know that community living involves virtues and practices such as self-discipline, generosity, tolerance, and patience. It requires deliberate choices to be available to others, even to be inconvenienced by them. From time to time it gives us opportunities to "bear wrongs patiently" and to seek and to give forgiveness. Community life :is a privileged venue for discernment. The evangelical counsel that is most intrinsic to community life is obedience, not only in the sense of approvals for ministry and residence choices, but also in the sense of holding oneself open to the ongoing promptings of the Spirit in both small matters and large. The place where those prompfings can be heard, the persons who can articulate them, are often found in the local setting. Members in community are not on individual spiritual journeys that only occasionally intersect, but on a shared journey where the challenge or misadventure of one can become an opportunity for all. What is the role of leadership in creating and sustah~ing community? Over the years I have noticed the ease with which we affirm leadership in ministry and the difficulty we have affirming it in community. For example, if someone is an excellent principal or parish administrator or earns an award or grant for a creative ministry project, we are happy to congratulate her and to publish the achievement. We fail to notice, however, that congregations also have members with natural gifts for leadership within community. Here I am not thinking particularly of administrative skills, but of the ability to call the members to unity, to prayer, to responsibility for shared commitments, to celebration, and to reconciliation when needed. Years ago these were some of the responsibilities of the local superior. But now, with that role largely absorbed by province administration and with a collegial lifestyle in the local setting, we no longer have access to, nor honor, these gifts for community building. 1 am not suggesting that congregations institute an annual award for community, but I do want to point out that some sisters have special gifts for bringing out the best in the rest of us. By their example and by their initiative they help us create a more vibrant community life. Further, I suggest that this is not a second-order gift, less important than the ability to create and sustain new or difficult ministries. It is an essential gift that needs to be recognized and affirfi~ed for itself. This is particularly true because the sister Review for Religious who is especially adept at community building is often someone who is especially good at attracting, inviting, and welcoming new members, an activity that is vital to the congregation's future. I suspect that the gifts for community building are more widespread than we realize and that, by honoring them, we may encourage one another to cultivate them. In his book Religious Life as Adventure, Albert DiIanni SM says that the effective regeneration of religious communities depends on leadership from below, arising from the religious instincts at the grass roots. He counters to a degree the Nygren-Ukeritis study indicating the importance of visionary leadership for successful renewal. He suggests that this study may contain a hidden assumption, namely, that the present crisis in religious life is a functional one, a lack of leadership skills. In contrast, he maintains that the crisis has deeper roots, that it is a crisis of enthusiasm and faith, and that, if this is so, nothing will serve but a conversion of heart in a significant number of members at the base, a re-forming of congregations at the level of their faith.2 We all know of places where community is lived with special vibrancy, authenticity, and zeal. We all have women in our midst who live the life with generosity and joy. One problem we face is that too often these individuals are isolated from one another and thus their influence is dissipated. They can grow discouraged and settle into ruts of middle-class complacency--then the congregation's mission and charism are further diminished, less visible. My leadership team once had a conversation about the possibility of bringing some of these sisters together to create a "critical mass." We rejected the idea because we did not want to seem to be recognizing an "elite," or to suggest that what is required of.a Sister of Mercy is beyond the reach of any member. We decided that what is needed for vibrant communities are clear expectations, clearly expressed and honored by all. The goal is for every expression of community living to be intentional rather than associational. What are some special challenges to living community life today? There are a number of them. They are signs of our times, and represent significant challenges for individuals and congreghtions desirous of renewing community life. One is our relationship to the life of the parish and the local church. At one time most local communities were associated with parishes. The parish convent and the sisters in residence there were a symbol of the compassionate face of the church, a center of hospitality and help in time of need, March-April 1999 Gottemoeller ¯ Community Living and a witness to the reality of our way of life. Today there is no common venue where we are present. For those who would like to know more about us, there is no place to "look" for us. Perhaps a communal choice to participate in a specific parish community-- rather than shopping around for liturgies at convenient times or with congenial celebrants--might be a means of community renewal and public visibility. Related to the demise of the parish convent is the general disappearance of congregational properties for community living. As motherhouses are sold or converted to other uses and as sisters are dispersed into varied ministries, congregations have fewer sites that can accommodate a community gathering of more than two or three. Sisters gravitate into apartments because it seems there are no other choices. Congregations favor rentals because they cannot afford to purchase properties or because they have no assurance that" sisters will use congregational properties if they make them available. Of course, if a congregation's commitment to community life includes, for example, common prayer, hospitality, public witness, and multigenerational living, that commitment would involve making suitable residences available and using them. Another challenge is our simultaneous participation in multiple and sometimes intersecting communities. Our parish, our ministry setting, our professional colleagues, our family, and our friends can all make legitimate claims on us. In addition, we may be drawn to specific ecclesial and social groups such as the charismatic movement, the pro-life movement, or Call to Action. These commitments can enrich community life or strain it beyond endurance. It calls for a special discernment to strike the right balance, but participation in community life should enjoy a priority in virtue of its connection to the essence of our vowed commitment. A further challenge is the responsibility for the care of aging parents. Surely no one has a greater call on our generosity than those who have given us life. In some cases it means taking time outside other community and ministry duties to help with shopping, transportation, and similar needs. Occasionally the only way to respond to parents' needs may be to move into the family home in order to provide day-to-day assistance. These situations call for a special sensitivity on the part of community members to different family circumstances. An important question is: How can they share the burden and support one or more individual members in their ministry to their parents? Review for Religious Perhaps the most difficult challenge is the drift towards living alone. There are, of course, some reasons that justify this option. Most congregations have a few members whose psychological health is so fragile that they are unable to cope with the requirements of community living. Sometimes their coping mechanisms involve behaviors that make it extremely difficult for community members to live with them. These conditions warrant living alone, for as long as the conditions persist. It is a special responsibility of leadership to support the well-being of these members. To take another case, some ministry needs would go unmet were it not for some sisters' willingness to live, for a time, apart from the daily support of community life. A question for discernment is whether or not the ministry was chosen precisely to justify .living alone. As in the case of sisters living with aging parents, community members will want to reach out to support the individual who is at a distance. Beyond these two circumstances (and absence for the purpose of study), there is a growing tendency to justify living alone solely on the basis of personal choice. Where this choice has gained a legitimacy on a par with other community choices, the congregation's community life would seem severely compromised. Such a. choice--particularly if the sisters are healthy and actively engaged in ministry--deprives other members of the benefits of their companionship and reduces the number of community settings available. Further, the choice fails to uphold the responsibility to provide communities that can nurture new membership. Unfortunately, in some congregations the issue of living alone is so neuralgic that it cannot even be discussed, let alone challenged. Finally, our experiences and desires regarding community living are affected by intergenerational and multicultural issues. Age and ethnicity (and sociocultural background, education, ministry experience, and other factors too) may condition one's style of participating in community. At times these differences may be experienced as gift, at other times as limitation. The need to In some congregations the issue of living alone is so neuralgic that it cannot even be discussed, let alone challenged. March-April 1999 ,Gottemoeller ¯ Community Livin~ integrate these differences sensitively is one more reason for being clear about the congregation's expectations for community living. Moreover, in a world torn' by division and conflicting interests, "the presence of communities where people of different ages, languages, and cultures meet as brothers and sisters, and which remain united despite the inevitable conflicts and difficulties inherent in common life, is in itself a sign that bears witness to a higher reality.''3 What steps can we take to renew our community life? First, we can break the silence. We need to ask questions like: What would attract a young person to investigate our way of life? How would we welcome a potential new member and show her what our life is like? How is my spirituality nourished from our communal roots? How .does our way of life give visible witness to simplicity, communal sharing, prayer, love for one another, zeal for the gospel? We can no longe~r take for granted that nothing can be said about these matters. We may discover, in the conversation, that there is a hunger among us to talk about expectations, to be challenged out of complacency, and to live our communal life more intensely. In addition to beginning a conversation, we can resolve to "go with the life," wherever it is happening. We can affirm the vibrant communities that already exist, recognizing that they are not just happy accidents, but the fruit of effort and conviction. We can direct our financial and personal resources toward creating new communities among individuals who are willing to take the risk. We can invite other members to join existing communities that are vibrant. We can share our experience of community with associates, parishioners, inquirers, in ever widening circles. But this will be effective only if at the center a group of deeply'committed religious are living their vocation with sincerity and passion. I began these reflections by asserting that our inability to be clear about our understanding of and commitment to community living is a potentially fatal weakness. What followed were some thoughts designed to prompt the discussion and discernment that most congregations urgently need. Let me cite here a phrase that is the subtide of the document "Fraternal Life in Community": "The Love of Christ Gathers Us into Unity." This phrase captures the motive and dynamism of community life. Only the love of Christ is enough to support and sustain this way of life. Love attracts and gathers us. The process is never finished, always calling us to greater unity, greater generosity, greater zeal. This is an ideal from which we will all fall short, but one which will never be approached Review for Religious unless it is articulated in behavioral expectations appropriate to the charism and mission of a congregation. Not everything has been said here, but perhaps these reflections will be enough to break the silence and begin the conversation. The time has come, I believe, for us to consider community living with fresh eyes. The consideration can be the key to our ongoing conversion and our authentic renewal. Notes ~ During a visit with the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life in 1993, the officers of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious and the Conference of Maior Superiors of Men pointed out the unsuitability of the title. The only recognition of our objection, how-ever, is a note saying: "In this text, 'fraternal' and 'fraternity' refer inclu-sively to both women and men and are, in the iudgment of the translators, the words most apt in English for conveying the fullness and warmth of communion which lies at the heart of community." 2 New York: Society of St. Paul, 1994, pp. 96-97. The Nygren- Ukeritis study referred to is "Religious-Leadership Competencies," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May-June 1993): 390-417. 3 "Fraternal Life in Community" (1994), §56. How Often Must I Forgive? (Matthew 18) The first purple crocuses of spring forgive your indifference, your neglect of alleluias at sunshine and the reassuring spill of birdsong . from still-bare maples. March forgives your detraction and contempt for its necessary gusts and its mud like that made by Jesus with spittle and now rubbed on the face of your yard to cure it of winter. Pa~ricia Schnapp RSM March-April 1999 1dO - - LEON McKENZIE The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection: Two Interior Witnesses St. Augustine of Hippo once asked a fascinating question about the believability of Jesus' resurrection from the dead.1 The raising of a dead man to life was as much a mystery of unspeakable proportions then as it is today, and Augustine wondered whether the proclamation of the resurrection is credible or incredible. Suppose bodily resurrection is essentially unbelievable. From Augustine's perspective in the early 5th century, most of the world believed that Jesus rose from the dead and ascended into heaven. This raised two points for consideration. On the one hand, if millions of Christians believed despite the incredibility of the Gospels, belief in the resurrection would itself be miraculous and a sign from God supporting the Christian message. On the other hand, if multitudes of Christians believed because the resurrection is credible, it would imply the resurrection is essentially believable. Nonbelievers, then, must ask themselves why they find it impossible to believe. The saint's scholarship in the art of persuasion and logic is evidenced in his formulation of the question. After reflecting seriously on the issue, it is with some ease Leon McKenzie EdD, professor emeritus at Indiana University, recendy published Pagan Resurrection Myths and the Resurrection of Jesus: .4 Christian Perspective. His address is 274 Adrienne Drive; Greenwood, Indiana 46142. Review for Religious that one arrives at the conclusion that the proclamation of Jesus' resurrection is highly credible. The Appeal of the Kerygrna The resurrection was credible to early Christians, in part because they heard the Good News heralded by apostles who were soon to suffer for the truth of what they announced. After the last of the apostles died, others announced the gospel, often at the risk of their lives. As historians note, those who heard the testimony of the martyrs and early apologists accepted the Good News of Jesus' resurrection in very large numbers. Beyond the valor of those who preached the resurrection, the message itself possessed its own intrinsic appeal. Evidently something subtle was working in the lives of converts to the Way, as the Christian life was called, something that made the Good News eminently credible. I suggest that two interior witnesses of great power were at work: the voice of the resurrection archetype and the voice of the Holy Spirit. The Resurrection Archetype An archetype is a pattern in the mind and a standard for discerning meaning. The profound depths of each human heart are shaped in such a manner as to influence a favorable response to the message of resurrection. This archetype can be compared, in a manner of speaking, to an instinct for what is true and good, to a natural power to grasp what is tremendously significant for human existence. This meaning structure of the human psyche, I propose, has been learned over countless years of universal human experience. The resurrection archetype cultivates a natural appetite for the central proclamation of the Christian faith, the resurrection of Jesus. The testimony of the Holy Spirit builds on this natural archetype and urges us, at the supernatural level, to affirm Jesus' resurrection as God's decisive word in history. The resurrection archetype takes its form from everyday experiences of members of the human race. The great theme of death and resurrection is etched indelibly on the world. The workings of the world reveal the death-and-resurrection motif in ordinary natural processes. Sometimes our experiences of these March-April 1999 For those who look, death and resurrection themes positively abound in our experience of the world. McKenzie ¯ The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection patterns of death and resurrection are so subtle that we fail to advert to them consciously. Nonetheless, these daily "texts" spelling out the meaning of the cosmos eventually enter into our hearts. Someone once said, "A perfume of promise is in the air." Even in the natural world, the very air seems to hold a promise of resurrection. Many resurrectiori themes are active in our daily lives. All we need do to discover these motifs is observe and reflect. Five of these experiences of death and resurrection are presented here: (1) the daily death and resurrection of the sun, (2) the burial of seeds in the fall and the resurrection of vegetation in the spring, (3) the death of joy that occurs in emotional depression and the eventual resurrection to a new life of happiness, (4) the promise of resurrection in the life cycles of small crawling creatures, and (5) our death each night in sleep and our resurrection in the morning. It must be emphasized again these are simply representative examples~ For those who look, death and resurrection themes positively abound in our experience of the world. The Daily Death and Resurrection of the Sun Each day the sun is born in the east. On many days the arrival of the sun is accompanied by a spectacular show of its glory. The golden disk goes across the sky and descends into the darkness beyond the western horizon at night. We can only imagine the power of this experience for ancient peoples who lacked a scientific explanation of what was happening. Even for us who have a scientific explanation, the experience is substantial. What dies in the gloom of the western horizon arises again in the glory of the morning sky. The Burial of Seeds and the Resurrection of Vegetation How mystifying it must have been for ancient peoples to watch the burial of seeds in the fall and the subsequent resurrection of flowers, young saplings, and crops in the spring. This universal experience of death and resurrection inscribed itself deeply in the Review for Religious human .psyche and was the cause of festivals of joy and promise. This experience was the source of myths of hope, once stripped of fantastic and sometimes bizarre details. Celebrations of new life and stories of renewed life reinforced the resurrection archetype. The Death of Joy and the Resurrection of New Life Perhaps every normal individual has experienced the death of joy on the occasion of the ordinary depression associated with such events as the death of a loved one, the loss of a friend due to a thoughtless word, the loss of a job, and even the losing of a pet dog or cat. Some persons undergo more serious depression and begin to believe they will never again experience happiness. Eventually the day arrives when joy returns, laughter is possible, and a resurrection of sorts takes place. The resurrection archetype grows stronger in our heart of hearts. The Promise of Resurrection in Small Crawling Creatures There is a hint of the resurrection of Christ, and our own resurrections with him, even in the small crawling creatures of the natural world. The larval grubs entombed in the earth emerge as beeries. The caterpillar wraps itself in a chrysalis only to come forth again as a beautiful butterfly. In its most elemental forms, nature displays signs of resurrection hope. Ancient peoples, much less distracted than we are today, could, not have missed reflecting on what meaning resides in the transformations of the least of God's creatures. The Death of Sleep and the Resurrection to Consciousness Perhaps nothing in our lives comes closer to modeling the death and resurrection motif in our experience of the natural world than the phenomenon of sleep. We lose ourselves in sleep and put aside conscious advertence only to regain ourselves and our consciousness in the daily resurrection that occurs with our awakening. At one level of explanation, we fall asleep because we are tired and arise because we are refreshed. At a more profound level of interpretation, we fall asleep and rise again as a sign of death and resurrection. These repeated experiences, universal in their scope among human beings, wrought profound developments in the resurrection meaning-structures of the collective unconscious of the race. It is not at all difficult to believe that God put resurrection motifs into March-April 1999 McKenzie ¯ The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection the world as promises of the defining event in human history, the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Functions of the Resurrection Archetype How has the resurrection archetype functioned? First, after taking form in the hearts of people who lived long ages ago, it found its way into myths that sages and storytellers told and retold about gods who died and came to life again--particularly agricultural gods, in accord with the seasons of growing. How these myths may have come to be is an interesting process, but one that is too complicated to review within this brief article.2 Suffice it to say that the resurrection archetype was the primary guide for the mythmakers who created "once upon a time" stories of gods who regularly descended to the underworld and returned later. Frequently these myths were used to explain why vegetation died in the fall and was reborn in the spring. Second, in accord with divine providence, the archetype worked to prepare the way for the acceptance of the risen Lord. After Jesus' resurrection, it continued providentially to provide, at a natural level, an interior witness to his resurrection. Upon hearing the announcement of Jesus' resurrection, a bystander who was open to God might think, "This sounds very interesting. This message resonates in my soul. The proclamation of Jesus' resurrection is supported by my entire experience of the workings of the world. Perhaps my experience of the death and resurrection themes in nature was God's way of preparing me for this message about Jesus." Now this initial natural attraction to the notion of Jesus' resurrection would probably not be put into words. Instead, the bystander in the preceding paragraph probably experienced an unspoken intuition that stirred a natural feeling favorable to the Good News. For some indefinable reason in the bystander's mind, he or she would have felt drawn to the message. Creation and the Resurrection Archetype One final issue about the archetype must be considered. The resurrection archetype" in the depths of the human psyche grew out of the universal experience of the resurrection theme in the workings of the world. But how did it happen that these Review for Religious resurrection motifs came to exist in the world? The answer is related to the very creation of the world. We read in Genesis that God created the heavens and earth and "the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep" (Gn 1:1-2). In the act of creation God rescued the world from its own nothingness. From nothingness God brought forth a dynamic world that participates in his own being. This "stamped" the world, so to speak, with the pattern of death and resurrection. The very act of bringing cosmos out of chaos is the fundamental motif of death and resurrection that is repeated everywhere in the workings of the world. The resurrection themes we experience it the world are the "traces" of the first act of creation. They are reminders of creation. The signs of resurrection manifested in the world of our experience are hallmarks of a God who brings forth something out of nothing and life out of death, a God who does things we might deem "impossible." We are heirs of the Father with Jesus, and our inheritance is everlasting life. The Holy Spirit The second interior witness to the truth of Jesus' resurrection is the Holy Spirit. One of the most revealing New Testament passages concerning the Holy Spirit's testimony to the resurrection of Jesus is Romans 8:1-17. The passage speaks to a number of major ideas. It seems as if St. Paul experienced a flood of rich insights as he dictated his letter to his scribe Tertius. "The mind that is seton the flesh is hostile to God," Paul says; "it does not submit to God's law---indeed, it 'cannot, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God." A little further along Paul says, "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit which dwells in you." Finally, Paul concludes this passage by noting, "When we cry, 'Abba! Father!' it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ." The Holy Spirit is our interior witness to several truths, all of March-April 1999 McKenzie ¯ The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection which are closely connected. First, we are children of God because Christ has set us free from the flesh, that is, from that part of us that is unredeemed. We are, in fact, on intimate, terms with the Father and even address him as Abba or Papa. Second, we are heirs of the Father with Jesus, and our inheritance is everlasting life. This is the life to which Jesus was raised after his death and burial. Third, this inheritance is due precisely to the Spirit of God who raised Jesus from the dead. The Holy Spirit gives witness within us to our adoption, to the risen Christ, and to our inheritance of Jesus' everlasting life. The Holy Spirit testifies to the truth of the resurrection. Credence in the "Incredible" Humanly speaking, and looking only to the surface of things, it seems incredible that someone who is dead could be raised to a new life. Note that Jesus was not merely resuscitated or revived to life in the old flesh. He rose to life in a glorified body (I Co 15:1-47). In the days after the ascension and before the descent of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost, some might have thought that the message of Jesus' resurrection had "almost no chance of being accepted. But those who heard the announcement of Jesus' resurrection--the proclamation of an event long before it became a teaching--not only affirmed the resurrection, but did so in large numbers. People believed not only because they heard the words of the aposdes and their successors, but also because they were attuned to what they heard in their own hearts. That so many new people accepted the Good News of Jesus' resurrection from the dead in the 1 st century and that the Christian faith became so widespread in such a short time seems miraculous. The testimony of credible witnesses such as the apostles to something that seemed incredible in human terms, namely, the raising of a crucified "criminal" to a new life, evoked strong affirmations of faith. Such affirmations, however, would have been futile without the interior testimony of the resurrection archetype at the natural level of human existence and the testimony of the Holy Spirit at the supernatural level. The interior witness of the resurrection archetype and the Holy Spirit transformed a . proclamation that seemed incredible into. something utterly . -I-~6-I believable and altogether inviting. Review for Religious Notes ~ St. Augustine, The City of God, trans. G. Walsh et al. (New York: Doubleday Image Books, 1958), pp. 505-508. 2 See my Pagan Resurrection Myths and the Resurrection of Jesus: A Christian Perspective (Charlottesville, Virginia: Bookwrights Press, 1997). The Recital Sacred was the silence as the tiny woman caressed the keys almost~ possessively. This was bliss: seven cherished friends gathered to hear her heart's story, eager to let her bare the glory of a soul poured out in ardent prayer. She knew they knew she met her God through her Magnificat of making music. Anna Marie Mack SSJ March-April 1999 -.157 CYNTHIA BOURGEAULT From Woundedness to Union ~early fifteen years ago, in his now classic Lost Christianity, .&. ¯ Jacob Needleman argued the need for an "intermediate Christianity" that might bridge the gap between the religion's lofty spiritual teachings and the ability of the average Christian to put them into practice. "Stone must become water before it can flow," he writes. "The pathos of Christendom. is that of preaching to stones that they must flow into the ocean.''~ Midway through the book there is a cameo app.earance by the Catholic monk Father Thomas Keating, at the time (1978) abbot of St. Joseph's Abbey in Spencer, Massachusetts. Here he and a few associates were experimenting with a new prayer form called centering prayer, aimed at expressing the essence of the Christian contemplative heritage in a simplified form accessible to contemporary Christians. In the course of a lengthy interview, Needleman expresses excitement that Keating's experiments might be headed toward recovering that lost link, though he stops short of commending them outright. Among the many debts of gratitude I owe to this book is that it was my introduction to Thomas Keating, who has subsequently become my teacher and friend. In the sixteen years since that Cynthia Bourgeault PhD is founding director of the Maine Monastic Foundation, a network of people attempting to live the contemplative life in the world according to the Benedictine Rule. She is also an Episcopal priest, adjunct professor of spirituality at Bangor Theological Seminary, and a developmental editor for Thomas Keating. The current article has been slightly adapted from one published in Gnosis, No. 34 (Winter 1995). Her address is 526 Isabella Point Road; Salt Spring Island, British Columbia; V8K 1V3 Canada. Review for Religious interview at Spencer, there have been significant developments. A year after Lost Christianity was published, Keating resigned as abbot of Spencer and "retired" to the small mountain monastery of St. Benedict's in Snowmass, Colorado. There local interest in centering prayer quickly snowballed into a national organization called Contemplative Outreach Ltd., now a decade old and some fifteen thousand members strong. In the effort to develop a conceptual framework for the growing ranks of practitioners, Keating has produced a series of books--Open Mind, Open Heart (1987), Invitation to Love (1992), and Intimacy with God (1994)---in which he develops an increasingly cohesive and subtle vision of the Christian spiritual journey, the path of inner transformation that begins when one embraces a regular practice of centering prayer. Keating says, "The method of centering prayer was specifically developed as a dialogue between contemporary psychological models and the classic language of the Christian spiritual path." That "classic language," which envisions a progression through purgative, illuminative, and unitive stages, has guided the journey of many a saint, but for many reasons both good and bad it often fails to resonate with the spirit of our own times, where the prevailing paradigm for transformation consists of woundedness, recovery, and wellness. ls there a way of integrating these visions? Keating's system is an attempt to do just that--to sketch out a road map which begins in woundedness and ends, if one follows it all the way, in transforming union. While most of the elements are individually familiar, the system itself represents a significant new synthesis. Furthermore it is yoked to a powerful meditational praxis through which people change more quickly and deeply than through any other method I have seen. It is not exactly an "intermediate Christianity" according to Needleman's specifications, which he defines as "the accumulation of the force of inner attention" (p. 119). But, functionally, Keating seems to be achieving the desideratum that Needleman described so eloquently: to help stones become water, to take the first steps toward significant inner transformation within a classically Christian framework. Not All Meditation Is Alike Before exploring the intricacies of Keating's paradigm, it is first necessary to understand something of the properties of centering March-April 1999 Bo_ur~eault * From Woundedness to Union prayer. While common understanding might consider all meditational methods basically interchangeable in that they begin by gathering the mind and end by transcending it, Keating's entire teaching rests on the assertion that centering prayer is a distinct method whose most apparent characteristic is a tendency to trigger the unconscious. This discovery, which grew out of direct observation rather than theory, came several years after the progress report in Lost Christianity~ At that time Keating and his associates Father William Meninger and Father Basil Pennington were still thinking in terms of a renewal of contemplative prayer, the creation of an inherently Christian meditation in response to the massive defection of younger Catholics to Eastern meditational paths. Based largely on the 14th-century text The Cloud of Unknowing, centering prayer took its place among other Christian meditational forms sprouting at the time, particularly Christian Zen prayer and the "Christian Meditation" of Dora John Main. It was a devotional method pure and simple, a way of deepening and intensifying the relationship with God. There was at that point no psychological underpinning attached to it, nor even a clue that one might exist. Then in 1983 a charter group of centering-prayer initiates organized the first ten-day Centering Prayer Intensive at the Lama Foundation in San Cristobal, New Mexico, hoping to achieve a more concentrated meditative experience on the general model of a Zen sesshin. While Keating and several others in the group were well-experienced in sesshins, no one was prepared for the volume and vibrancy of emotional outpouring that flooded forth from five hours a day of centering prayer. Tears, repressed memories, deep intuitions all came to the surface in a jumble, along with a sense of catharsis and bonding among the dozen participants that to this day has not faded. From his years as abbot, Keating was used to the gradual sensitizing of the unconscious during the course of contemplative life, but not with such speed and intensity. He recalls seeing "people going through in ten days what it might have taken them twenty years to go through at a monastery." He quickly realized he had a tiger by the tail, and it did not take long to figure out why: it lay in the methodology of the prayer itself. Most meditational methods are concentrative in nature: they start by gathering and focusing the attention, whether by repeating Review for Religious a mantra, following the breath, or focusing on bodily sensation. With centering prayer, however, one starts at the opposite end of the spectrum, "not with attention, but with intention," as Keating puts it. The intention in this case is simply to rest in the presence of God beyond all thought and emotion. A "sacred word" is used in the prayer, but not as a mantra, to be repeated consistently as a focal point .for attention, but simply as a touchstone for intent: when one finds oneself attracted to a thought or emotion during the course of prayer, the sacred word simply serves as a reminder to let go of the thought and rest in the bare presence of God. Thus thoughts may--and do---come and go; the idea is to develop a detached attitude .toward them. One reaches contemplation through the access point of consent, not through focused attention. If meditational methods were arranged on a scale from most concentrative to most receptive, centering prayer would be at the far end of the receptive methods, dropping below even the bare awareness of vipassana (insight) meditation or dzogchen. As Keating suspected--and transpersonal psychology has subsequently confirmed--the more receptive the meditational method, the greater the involvement of the unconscious. Concentrative methods tend to retard this "unloading of the unconscious," as Keating terms it. Receptive methods, on the other hand, foster it, particularly in an intensive group situation such as at that pioneering Lama retreat. But Keating's real intuitive leap was to recognize the import of this observation: this unloading of the unconscious was not an inconsequential side effect, but a significant purification process at work. This was the connecting link he had long been looking for, between purification as traditionally presented in Christian teaching (as a reprogramming of conscious motivation, or the struggle against sin) and the realization by contemporary psychology that such reprogramming goes only skin-deep and in fact can cause serious damage if used for repression and denial of unconscious impulses. "The real ascesis is the purification of unconscious With centering prayer, one starts at the opposite end of the spectrum, "not with attention, but with intention," as Keating puts it. Bourgeault ¯ From Woundedness to Union L ¯ J motives," Keating had long argued--but how to get at them? With centering prayer as a catalyst for the release of unconscious elements, he found his tool and his paradigm. Apophatic Psychotherapy Keating's teaching begins by fundamentally repositioning meditation in the context of a spiritual praxis. Rather than seeing it as a tool for developing concentration, relaxing stress, or accessing higher states of consciousness, he sees it as a catalyst for the purification of the unconscious. This purification is itself prayer. It is not a preparation for relationship with the higher, but the relationship itself. Upon this cornerstone he builds his paradigm of "the Divine Therapy." How does this purification work? As the unconscious unloads during centering prayer, Keating teaches, these small purifications are actually a part of a larger project. One begins to dismantle the "false self,!' the needy, driven, unrecognized motivations that govern most of our untransformed human behavior. Dovetailing classic Christian teaching with contemporary psychology, Keating suggests the false self as a modern equivalent for the traditional concept of original sin. Beginning in infancy (or even before), each of us, in response to perceived thr¢ats to our well-being, develops a false self: a set of protective behaviors driven at root by a sense of need and lack. The essence of the false self is this driven, addictive energy, consisting of tremendous emotional investment in compensatory "programs for happiness," as Keating calls them. It is this false self .that we bring to the spiritual journey; our "true self" lies buried beneath the accretions and defenses. In all of us a huge amount of healing has to take place before our deep and authentic quest for union with God--which requires tremendous courage and inner p~'esence to sustain--escapes the gravitational pull of our psychological woundedness and self-justification. This, in essence, constitutes the spiritual journey. So far this is orthodox psychological and theological fare. But where Keating takes the boldest step is in his assertion that centering prayer is a direct catalyst for this purification of the false self. As one sits in centering prayer, with the intent to rest and trust in God, the unconscious begins to unload "the emotional junk of a lifetime." Repressed memories, pain, and accumulated dull hurt rise Review for Religious to the surface and are, through an attitude of gentle consent, allowed to depart. As Keating visualizes the process, The level of deep rest accessed during the prayer period loosens up the hardpan around the emotional weeds stored in the unconscious, of which the body seems to be the warehouse. The psyche begins to evacuate spontaneously the undigested emotional material of a lifetime, opening up new space for self-knowledge, freedom of choice, and the discovery of the divine presence within. As a consequence, a growing trust in God, a bonding with the Divine Therapist, enables us to endure the process. Thus. the gift of contemplative prayer is a practi-cal and essential tool for confronting the heart of the Christian ascesis--namely, the struggle with our uncon-scious motivation--while at the same time establishing the climate and necessary dispositions for a relationship with God and leading, if we persevere, to divine union.2 For me the most fruitful connection here is the linking of the "dark night" or "cloud of unknowing" of the traditional apophatic path and the psychological process--the "darkness" of the psyche. If psychoanalysis represents "cataphatic therapy"--using words, concepts, and awareness to illuminate the darkness of our inner ground--Keating is presenting centering prayer as a kind of "apophatic psychotherapy" ("apophatic" meaning that which points one toward the ineffable beyond all words, concepts, and forms). What really happens when one enters the cloud of unknowing--resting in God beyond thoughts, words, and feelings--is a profound healing of the emotional wounds of a lifetime. As these wounds are gradually brought to the surface and released in prayer (one simply lets them go nonpossessively, rather than retaining them for inspection as one does in psychoanalysis), the false self weakens and the true self grfidually emerges. For Keating this is the real meaning of the term "transforming union." As he states in Intimacy with God, "We can bring the false self to liturgy and to the reception of the sacraments, but we cannot bring the false self forever to contemplative prayer because it is the nature of contemplative prayer to dissolve it" (p. 98). Keating does not claim that such a practice replaces the need for ordinary psychotherapy. Indeed, material that arises out of the unconscious in prayer sometimes requires the assistance of psychotherapy, particularly in cases of retrieved memories of emotional or sexual abuse. But in centering prayer this healing and March-April 1999 Bourgeault * From Woundedness to Union purification occurs within the sanctuary of prayer, combined with a deepening trust in God. So, at the same time that healing is going on at the psychological level, a deepening of the spiritual faculties is occurring as well--recollection, vigilance, attention of the heart-- leading to a blossoming of the traditional theological virtues of faith, hope, and love. The Shape of the Journey Traditionally we are used to thinking of spiritual transformation as an ascent. The effects of a spiritua~ practice, we expect, are to make us more calm, more able to cope, more filled with equanimity. Keating's model, however, suggests a different scenario. The ascent is inextricably bound to a descent into the ground of our own psyche. Thus periods of psychological ferment and destabilization are signs that the journey is progressing, not that it is a failure. As the. practice of meditational.prayer loosens repressed material in the unconscious, the initial fruits of spiritual practice, may not be peace and enlightenment, but destabilization and the emergence into consciousness of considerable pain. One woman in our group in Maine experienced this process particularly vividly. After only a few weeks of regular practice of centering prayer, she found herself increasingly tense and irritable and frequently went home from meditation to pick a fight with her husband. She was tempted to quit, but with the encouragement of the group she stayed on and cooperated with the process. What was happening (rather quickly in her case) was that a brittle control--keeping everything at a superficial level of "niceness"--collapsed almost immediately in the face of her immersion in contemplative silence. She found herself face-to-face with a deep guilt about, her second marriage and her terror that God would punish both her and her husband with cancer. Needless to say, "resting" in such a God was not a tranquil experience! But with a good deal of courage she has been able to face these feelings, work through them, and reestablish a relationship with both her husband and God on a deeper, fleer level. In my own work with centering prayer, I have learned by repeated experience that the "reward" for a period of deepening practice is often the emergence of a patch of pain long buried followed by several days of emotional turmoil, Keating calls it "the Review for Religious archaeological dig." As trust grows in God and practice becomes more stable, we penetrate deeper and deeper down to the bedrock of pain, the origin of our personal false self. The results are often horrifying to ourselves. Yet, says Keating, this does not mean that the spiritual journey is a failure, but that it is doing its job. The fruits of this unloading are more than worth the pain. In response to each significant descent into the ground of our woundedness, there is a parallel ascent in the form of inner freedom, the experience of the fruits of the spirit, and beatitude. There are several practical implications to this idea, but the paramount one--for both spiritual seekers and spiritual guides--is to recognize that centering prayer is a psychological method and will produce results in that realm, some of them initially painful. In Intimacy with God Keating recounts how a graduate student recendy did a thesis on centering prayer, along with several forms of Eastern meditation, recommending them as a way to reduce anxiety. Keating wrote back to the man saying, "Centering prayer will reduce anxiety for perhaps the first three months. But, once the unconscious starts to unload, it will give you more anxiety than you ever had in your life." For individual practitioners he recommends a limited dosage-- twenty to thirty minutes twice a day is the normal iprescription--to prevent the premature emergence of material into consciousness. Ten-day retreats rely on a trained staff to help handle a more intensive unloading process. Keating insists that the method is safe and that only in the case of serious depression or psychotic symptoms should the prayer be discontinued. By interweaving the contemporary language of healing with the traditional language of holiness, Keating extends the range of both. His synthesis is spacious, with plenty of room for .growth. For those preoccupied with their own recovery from woundedness (and many come to centering prayer by way of the recovery movement), it provides a gende and supportive context in which the process can unfold. But recovery is not the endpoint. For Keating the real goal Keating has bridged the gap between contemporary psychology and the traditional language of spiritual purification. March-April 1999 Bourgeault ¯ From Woundedness to Union of the inner transformation is not one's personal healing, but the ability to be a Christian as measured by the ability to follow the teachings of Christ all the way to mystical union. For in the final analysis it is Keating's own deep mystical spirit that undergirds the entire paradigm, offering .a scale as vast as the cosmos: There remains a further energy, which is reserved for the next life. That is ~vhat theologians call the Beatific Vision. This requires freedom from the limitations of the physical body in order to experience it. This energy is so intense that, if it were not mediated by the ordinary affairs of daily life that distract us from continual contact with the divine energy, we would turn into a grease spot. This is the energy that lights the universe and forms the whirling nebulae. We can receive only a little of it at a time. In heaven we can have all we want.3 Toward an Intermediate Christianity Keating's thinking has evolved considerably since his interview with Needleman years ago, and it is still evolving. Many of his observations bear much more dialogue and fine-tuning, but at this point his appears to be a cohesive new.synthesis that offers a significant first step in the direction of a functional "intermediate Christianity." Clearly gaps are being bridged. The first of these is the gap between theory, and practice: Keating's method seems to provide a way for stones to become water. By restoring a meditational praxis--and one so uniquely consonant with the basic modality of Christianity--he has created an inner laboratory for practicing the basic gesture of faith. I have watched people like the woman in Maine confront their woundedness, heal, and come alive spiritually as they make the connection between their daily lives and what goes on in prayer. Second, Keating has bridged the gap between contemporary psychology and the traditional language of spiritual purification. By repositioning meditation as a tool for purification of the unconscious--and by insisting that people do it, not just talk about it--he can be faithful to contemporary models of healing while pointing the way beyond, toward profound inner transformation in ever deepening surrender. In so doing, he has rescued us both from the vagueness of contemporary psychojargon and from the violence of traditional metaphors based on renunciation, vigilance, and Review for Religious "spiritual warfare" (as if a part of us had to be killed, or at least locked up, in order for holiness to grow). For Keating, spiritual transformation is gentle, ever-so-gentle, and holds always before one the need for integration of psyche and spirit. The one cannot dominate the other; they must proceed apace. If the spirit's role is to be strong, the psyche's is to be vulnerable, and the lion must lie down with the lamb before the peaceable kingdom will reign within. The touchstones of the entire teaching are gentleness, patience, consent, and a willingness to let the process of integration unfold with its own pace and authenticity. Of course there is woundedness, but there is holiness as well. How the two come together--not which wins, but how they join-- constitutes the unique and profound meaning of one's life, the emergence of the true self, transformed in Christ. Of Thomas Keating's many contributions~ this one is for me the most powerful. ~r Notes l Jacob Needleman, Lost Christianity (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1980), p. 119. 2 Thomas Keating, Intimacy with God (New York: Crossroad, 1994), p. 3. 3 Keating, p. 103. Resurrection Power Behold the slender shoot Reaching for the light, The flower just unfurled, The barren branch Heavy with blossoms. Here is the Force That walked out of the tomb, Conquering our worst foe. Here is Life incorruptible, The Risen One waiting To spring forth in you. Teresa Burleson March-April 1999 PAMELA A. SMITH On the Go with Chronic Illness, Sitting Still with Mark How does anyone with a long-term, life-threatening, complex, and confounding chronic illness stay with it and retain humor and hope for the long haul? How does one take in and make sense of the regular reminders from endocrinologist, internist, and consulting counselor that it does inevitably get less manageable and, yes, worse? How does one stay happily productive in the face of the evidence that most folks in the same situation have long since quit work and gone on disability leave? What is the Christian mix of resignation and stubbornness, relaxation and fight, that makes it possible to slow down and still go barreling forward? These were some of the questions--maybe the most critical ones--which I carried with me on a rainy March day to a hideaway in close proximity to tentatively budding trees and a horse pasture still tinged with the orange and yellow of winter grass. The evergreen shrubs and hedge persisted, drippingly at the moment, around the Michigan country home to which I retreated (with all my griefs in my arms, as Dylan Thomas said of lovers, and all those griefs probably everywhere else too). My IDDM--insulin-dependent diabetes mellitus, long ago labeled "britde"--was afflicting me with "diabetic fatigue," I had recently told my boss, the rector of a seminary. He affirmed my request to take some needed time away. I can get a bit gl

Issue 56.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1997. ; for re,lig i ous Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST1997 ¯ VOLUME56 ¯ NUMBER4 Review for Religious (s a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is pul31ished 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: FOPI~I~MA@SLU.I~I)U 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 ¯ Hendersou, NC 27536 POSTMASTF~R 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. ©1997 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy auy material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creatio,i of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review fi3r 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 JULY/AUGUST1997 * VOLUME56 ¯ NUMBER4 contents prayer 342 Evoking the Spirit: Reflections on How to Pray ¯ ~°~Richard Hauser SJ explores the role of the Spirit in bringing about a communion with God, the goal of all prayer methods. 359 Liturgy of the Hours: Path to Integration Judy Roxborough STJ describes how praying the Liturgy of the Hours in community offers many ways in which we can find unity and wholeness, with ourselves, with our commutfity, with the world, and with all of creation. 364 370 spiritual direction What Is a Spiritual Director's Authority? Steve R. Wigall refocuses the question about the spiritual director's authority by considering the role of the Holy Spirit and the directee's freedom in this ministry. Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction Shaun McCarty ST explores the nature and necessity of confidentiality in the ministry of spiritual direction and also some legal considerations affecting its practice. Review for Relig4ous 378 387 psychology Psychology: An Aid to Religious Formation Sefin D. Sammon FMS considers three specific and pressing initial and ongoing formative challenges and examines how psychology may help. Mental-Health Consultation with Religious Orders Alexander H. Smith Jr. considers elements of effective consultation from the perspective of both consultant and community in order to inform, to caution, and to encourage well-grounded principles and practices. 4O2 412 consecrated life Visiting a Scene. of Election Janet K. Ruffing RSM focuses within congregational elections on the ongoing partnership and collaboration of each assembly member and the entire body with those who are elected. The Rewards of a Costly Community Roger Finke ~ses sociological data to demonstrate that new members are attracted to religious congregations that have a distinctive community and mission. 340 433 departments Prisms ~,~, /~,~ -,¢- -r~ Canonical Counsel: Levels of Legislation in an Institute Book Reviews July-August 1997 prisms Jesus Christ is central to our faith and to its practices. As we continue our preparations for celebrating the third millennium in the spirit of John Paul II's 1995 letter, we could well reflect on how central Jesus is to our life, our prayer, and our work--to our everyday world. Jesus identified himself as one "preaching the good news." Jesus, first and foremost, proclaimed himself an "evangelizer." He talked about God. He talked about God's sons and daughters. He talked about God's world. Everything Jesus described--the first rays of sunlight, birds nesting, an old woman giving her little bit of money in the temple; whatever he listened to--spring water flow-ing, a baby's cry, musicians at a wedding feast; things that he could smell and taste--the freshness of a spring rain, the rich flavor of wine; whatever he touched--the mud to put on a blind man's eyes, the coldness of a young man's dead body, the warmth of John's embrace, or the lock-tight hold of Mary Magdalen on -Easter morning: every-thing spoke to him of the wonder of each of God's creatures, but even deeper down the wonder and beauty of God. And so Jesus could tell simple stories about seeds and growth, about wedding banquets and joy, about being neighbors and doing good to battered strangers Every time, in every instance, he is talking about God and our dealings with God. There is a Latin verb--conversari~-which means "to turn in relation with" and thus "to interact with," "to have dealings with," "to engage," or "to converse with" (our English word conversation obviously derives from it). In the light of this Latin derivation, we might say that all R~iew for Religious. our conversation--all our "talking"--is much broader in meaning and takes in all our dealings with others. Jesus was an evangelizer in all his dealings with the men and women of his time. Every incident in the Gospels is a picture of Jesus evangelizing--engag-ing people in the divine context of their lives. What does that say about us as Jesus' followers? To be evan-gelizers we do not have to go off to school and get degrees in theology. We do not have to exile ourselves to another country. All we need do is deal with the people in our everyday world the way Jesus talked and dealt with the people in his ~veryday world. He presented to each person a new quality of life; he uncovered divine values beneath the surface of all our human dealings. But for us to act in such a way implies that our world and the events in our lives speak of God to us so that we can speak of God to others. Like Jesus, we have to become aware of a world alive in God. Isn't that an essential to the good news which we live and speak about and deal with others about? John Paul has stressed repeatedly that we are being called to a new evangelization. Today we call our effort a "new evange-lization" because our educated world seems so ignorant of Jesus' way bf seeing (seeing deeper down) and because we ourselves, whatever our vocation in life, whatever our age, whatever our tal-ents and .education, are newly conscious of our responsibilities to preach the good news. For us to be Christian, to be like Jesus, we must be missionary; we must be evangelizers. How do we, neophyte evangelizers, start to live in Jesus' world? By reading the Gospels. Throughout the rest of this year. dedicated especially to Jesus, we need to set an agenda for our-selves of reading the Gospels through--slowly and over and over again. We need to let their words, their stories, become the warp and woof of our lives. We will be imbibing Jesus' way of being an evangelizer. We will assume more and more a stance of dealing with people in Jesus'. kind of world--a world alive in God. Like Jesus, we will be doing our part in making ourselves and our world come alive.in God. Like Jesus, we will be preaching good news to the "poor," that is, those who have so little a sense of God's pres-ence permeating their everyday world. David L. Fleming sJ 3~uly-August 1997 prayer RICHARD J. HAUSER Evoking the Spirit: Reflections on How to Pray Students in my graduate spirituality classes frequently ask about the most effective method of prayer for attaining union with God. They ask whether centering prayer from The Cloud of Unknowing is more effective than lectio prayer from the Benedictine tradition. (Lectio prayer is short-hand for lectio-meditatio-oratio-contemplatio prayer, a method from the 12th century for praying with Scripture.) Recently claims have been made for one method over the other. I am uncomfortable with assumptions behind such ,questions: that a method is necessary, that one method is more effective than another, that the effects depend upon our activity. After teaching methods of prayer conscien-tiously for years, I have been led by experience to soften my assertions about the use of method. My uneasiness regarding methods relates primarily to people's almost Pelagian lack of awareness 6f the role of the Holy Spirit, in any method of prayer or spiritual dis-cipline. The basic question for all spirituality is how we ¯ integrate our human effort with the role of the Spirit. Pope John Paul's 1986 encyclical, "Lord and Giver of Life," offers an apt response. Reflecting upon the Gospel of John and Christ's promise.to send ;another advocate to take his place, the pope summarizes the Christian tradition Richard J. Hauser SJ is chair of the Department of Theology at Creighton University and director of its graduate programs in theology, ministry; and spirituality. This is his tenth article for our journal. ,His address is Creighton University; 2500 California Street; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. Revie'w for Religious. on the Holy Spirit as sanctifier: "The redemption accomplished by the Son in the dimensions of the earthly history of human-ity-- accomplished in the 'departure' through the cross and res-urrection- is at the same time, in its entire salvific power, transmitted to the Holy Spirit: the one who 'will take what is mine'" (§11). The pope echoes Vatican Council II's emphasis on the Holy Spirit by insisting we adequately understand Christian vocation only when we understand the role of the Holy Spirit: the entire effect of the redemption is brought about by the Holy Spirit. We post-Vatican II Christians are challenged,to renew our theolog-ical models of the church, of the self, and of spirituality in light of our renewed understanding of the work of the Holy Spirit--an understanding all but lost before the council. And we are then challenged to renew every spiritual discipline, including personal prayer. The Spirit and Vatican II: Shift in Models One shift in models concerns the church. In recent decades we have witnessed two different, ~ough complementary, models of church. Each model assigns a distinctive role to the Holy Spirit. (Since I am a Roman Catholic, my primary understanding of church is that of my own tradition, but I have learned that my insights are applicable to Protestant traditions as well.) In the first model the Holy Spirit is indeed present in the church, but the church is seen primarily as an institution governed by hierarchi-cal authority--for Catholics: priests, bishops, pope. The Holy Spirit guides the institution through the hierarchy, and the hier-archy, especially the local priest, guides the people. The institu-tion rests secure because an infallible guidance in faith and morals was promised to it. In the second or Vatican II model, the Holy Spirit is present in the church, but the church is seen as the peo-ple of God, the entire community of believers, head and members united in the one Body of Christ. While continuing to guide the church corporately, the Holy Spirit also guides the members indi-vidually. The following excerpts from chapter 1 of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen gentium) highlight this truth elegantly. The Spirit dwells in the church and in the hearts of the faithful as in a temple. In them he prays and bears wimess yuly-A ugust 1997 Hawser ¯ Evoking the Spirit to the fact that they are adopted sons. The Spirit guides the church into the fullness of truth and gives it a unity of fellowship and service. He furnishes and directs it with var-ious gifts, both hierarchical and charismatic, and adorns her with the fruits of his grace. In order that we may be unceasingly renewed in him [Jesus], he has shared with us his Spirit, who, existing as one and the same being in the head and in the members, vivifies, unifies, and moves the whole bod);. Another shift in models is related to the church as the Body of Christ and concerns the nature of the self. Christians are dis-covering anew a central element of the New Testament message: the role of the Spirit within the self. Before Vatican II this role was virtually absent from our consciousness; now it dominates theo-logical consciousness. The plethora of books on the Spirit and spirituality in recent years are a sign of this. What is the role of the Spirit within the self?. Our treatment of this topic must begin with the Last Supper discourse in John's Gospel. Jesus is comforting his disciples, having told them of his imminent departure. But now I am going to the one who sent me, and not one of you asks me, "Where are you going?" But because I told you this, grief has filled your hearts. But 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. (Jn 16:5-7, revised NAB here and throughout) Jesus assures them it is better for them that he'goes; the, Spirit he sends will take his place, guiding and strengthening' them in their mission. Indeed, this union with himself through the Spirit is the condition for apostolic effectiveness. The Gospel could not be more clear: Remain in me, as I' remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so nei-ther can you unless you remain in me. I am the vine, you are °the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing. (In 15:4-5) Jesus' prediction is fulfilled at Pentecost when the Spirit descends on the community. The Acts of the Apostles gives wit-ness to the working of the Spirit in the apostolic church. Note the difference in the disciples before and after the coming of the Spirit. Review for Religious Among New Testament writings the epistles of Paul are a most eloquent witness to this power of the Spirit--a power he received only after his conversion to Christ at Damascus. For Paul, belief in Jesus with the subsequent infusion of the life of the Spirit is the source of all power. It is a new principle of life. Paul contrasts it with the flesh and its tendency to sin. But you are not in the flesh; on. the contrary, you are in the spirit, if only the Spirit of God dwells in you. Whoever does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the spirit is alive because of righteousness. If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit that dwells in you. (Rm 8:9-11) This principle of life infuses the Christian community, form-ing one body, the Body of Christ, with every member united and animated by the Spirit. 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. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons, and we were all given to drink of one Spirit. (1 Co 12:12-13) A note on the activity of the Spirit in the self: The Holy Spirit joins our human spirit; it does not replace it. We humans enjoy three modes of activity flowing from the three dimensions of our being: physical, psychological, and spiritual. It is helpful to imag-ine three concentric circles: the center is the spirit, the middle is the mind, the outer is the body. Every human activity engages all three levels. Our physical and psychological activities are obvious to all. But what are our spiritual activities? The spiritual level is the level of our freedom, our freedom to respond to the Spirit or not to respond. The Holy Spirit joins our human spirit, initiating within us the desire for goodness~without the Spirit's presence we would nbt even have the desire. Responding to the Spirit, then, transforms the other levels of our b.eing, the physical and the psychological. The Spirit is the principle for all Christian life. Traditionally this indwelling of the Spirit has been called sancti-fying grace. Personal prayer--like every spiritual activity--is a response to the Spirit. An important corollary flows from this truth: We can trust our inner selves. At our center we have God's Spirit to guide us. .l~uly-Aug'ust 1997 Hauser * Evoking the Spirit Previous approaches to spirituality did not adequately acknowl-edge that presence. Commonly they taught that the self cannot be trusted because of fallen human nature and inherited original sin. This inherited brokenness so dominated our consciousness that we undervalued the power of redemption from sin. Since we could not trust this inner self, it became necessary to look outside our-selves for external guidelines. Contemporary approaches, too, acknowledge human brokenness--hence the emphasis on dis-cernment of spirits--but they also acknowledge the real effect of Christ's redemption. We have been freed from the slavery of sin; therefore, we can trust our inner selves. Grace in us is stronger than sin in us. Frequently we Christians have substituted fidelity to prescribed formal prayers--morning and night prayers, meal prayers, divine office, prayerbook formularies--for a more inte-rior response to the Spirit. Unfortunately, the Vatican II theological renewal concerning the Holy Spirit has not yet permeated popular consciousness thor-oughly. Many of us live within a different model of the self, which I will call the Western model because I recognize that it dominates the approach to God of many in the Western Hemisphere, In this model God is solely transcendent--in heaven--and so not dwelling within the self through the Spirit. This God in heaven is not readily seen as the initiator of good actions. Though the Western model duly acknowledges that we are made to know, love, and serve God in this life and so be happy in the next, it tends to give God no role in these actions until after they are performed, when rewards of grace are given in this life leading to the reward of heaven in the next. In this model, people tend to see themselvesas the initiators of their own good deeds, including personal prayer. Sanctifying grace is often erroneously under-stood as the treasury in heaven of merit earned by good works on earth. This Western view of self is not taken from the New Testament, but rather absorbed from several aspects of our culture. Our culture is secular. Our .view of the self tends also to be sec-ular; we do not recognize God's presence within us and its influ-ence on our inner motivation. At best we give intellectual assent that through baptism we receive sanctifying grace and so God is with us, but this notion of God's presence does not tend to affect our daily motivation. Our culture is also capitalistic, and financial rewards are conditioned on performance; we presume God gives Review for Religious spiritual rewards the same way, rewarding the just with grace--and perhaps even material prosperity--and withholding these rewards from the unjust. Our culture is individualistic. We prize inde-pendence and eschew any dependence, even finding dependence on God's grace demeaning. Without giving it much thought, we just presume we earn our salvation as we earn everything in life: by our own hard work. This view has disastrous effects on our understanding of how to pray: since the Spirit is not present within us, prayer cannot be a response to the Spirit, Another shift in models concerns spirituality itself. Unfortunately, we Christians have not drawn out implications of the Vatican II-renewed models of the church and the self and applied them to our practice of spirituality or to our personal prayer. Christian spirituality is a response to the Spirit. Today attention has shifted from performing spiritual disciplines (like prayer) externally to responding internally to the Spirit pres-ent in our hearts. Paul teaches his Jewish communities that they have been freed from subservience to the 613 Mosaic laws and are now called to respond to an inner law: "Now we are released from the law, dead to what held us captive, so that we may sePce in the newness of the spirit and not under the obsolete letter" (Rm 7:6). This truth also highlights the inadequacy of the Western-model understanding of good actions as self-initiated and emphasizes the scriptural teaching that~all good deeds are Spirit-initiated. Prayer and service not flowing from the heart do not fulfill Jesus' commandment of love. The Gospels present Jesus as hav-ing the most difficulty with a group of people who perfectly ful-filled all the commandments externally: the Pharisees. Jesus refers to them as whitened sepulchers. Externally they kept the com-mandments, internally they violated their very essence: love. Luke's parable on the Pharisee and the tax collector going to the temple to pray calls attention to the centrality of one's heart in prayer. The Pharisee boasted of his fidelity in keeping all the commandments, emphasizing his superiority to the tax collector. "But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, 'O God, be merciful to me.a sinner.' I tell you, the latter went home jus-tified, not the former; for everyone who exalts himself will be Grace in us is stronger than sin in us. Hauser ¯ Evoking the Spirit humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted" (Lk 18:13-14). Previous approaches to spirituality often seemed more con-cerned with the external performance of prayer and service than with the quality of heart underlying them. Indeed, we usually examined our consciences in terms of sinful actions performed or omitted. For instance we focused not on whether we hated our neighbor, but on whether we performed hateful actions. Likewise we focused not on whether we praised God at Sunday Mass, but on whether we fulfilled our obligation by being physically pres-ent- our dispositions were irrelevant. Luke's presentation on the love commandments catches the quality of heart central to spirituality. Recall that the questioner was coming from a mentality that focused on the external obser-vance of many Torah-related precepts as central to observant Jews. Jesus, however, echoes the simpler injunction from the same Scriptures: "Teacher,'what must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus said to him, "What is written in the law? How do you read it?" He said in reply, "You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself." He replied to him, "You have answered correctly; do this and you will live." (Lk 10:25-28) We should recall that love is always a response to the Spirit: love in us originates with God in us: Beloved, let us love one another, because love is of God; everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God. Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love . Beloved, if God so loved us, we also must love one another. No one has ever seen God. Yet, if we love one another, God remains in us, and his love is brought to per-fection in us. (1 Jn 4:7-8, 11-12) The Spirit and Spontaneous Prayer How does the above apply to how we pray? that is, to what we do when' we withdraw individually to be with the Lord? I will begin with our commonest experience of prayer, spontaneous prayer, prayer outside of formal prayer times. Prayer itself I describe simply as "the movement of the heart toward God under the influence of the Holy Spirit": no heart movement, no prayer. Review for Religious (Prayer cannot be identified with either words we say or thoughts we think; indeed, prayer need not be accompanied by either words or thoughts. In Christian tradition the deepest prayer transcends both.) The movement occurs only when we are "under the influ-ence of the Holy Spirit." When we are not in touch with the Spirit, we cannot respond to it. The movement of the heart under the influence of the Spirit is "toward God." The Spirit moves us towards the Father and towards Jesus. As Christian theology sees the Spirit as the bond of union between the Father and the Son in the Trinity, so the Spirit is our bond of union with the Father and Jesus. In the communion of saints, the Spirit unites us also with Mary and the other saints. We on earth are united with them as they now are in heaven, where they continually love and praise the Father and Jesus. There they can be pri;cileged intercessors for us. With them we move toward communion with the Father and Jesus. A note about the purpose of prayer: Often we unreflectively assume that prayer is for the pur-pose of seeking specific favors from God. Deeper reflection, however, reveals that in prayer we are really seeking a confirmation of God's love for us. The purpose behind all our prayer is a deeper communion with the Father and with Jesus. Though we may be led to prayer for many different reasons, as we continue praying we eventually realize that our deepest need is for God's presence and support: the Spirit has transformed our initial desires. The process is not unlike Jesus' transformation in the Garden of Gethsemane. He initially seeks to have the chalice removed, but ends yielding to God's will and presence. I believe we experience over and over again the truth of Augustine's excla-mation "Our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee." In prayer there are many levels of .communion, of experienc-ing God's presence. The very desire for God's help is already a rudimentary experience of communion, even though the desire may be interspersed with distractions. The desire is real, but at this level the Spirit has not yet transformed other dimensions of the self. At a deeper level the movement toward God in prayer may be accompanied by tranquillity and peace. The Spirit makes us aware that the world is in God's hands, and we rest in the secu-rity of our relationship with our loving Lord. This is the usual In prayer we are really seeking a confirmation of God's love for us. ~uly-August 1997 Hauser * Evoking the Spirit experience. But, at an even deeper level, the Spirit so unites us to God that we lose conscious awareness of our communion with God. During the momentary experience itself, self-awareness recedes, but we are able to reflect upon the experience afterwards. The experience leaves a residue. The residue is described as wholeness, joy, contentment. Reflection on my own prayer experiences leads .me to a sur-prising conclusion (one I would not have made ten years ago): I find my heart drawn to God as frequently during spontaneous prayer as during the times I set aside for formal prayer. I have noticed that certain conditions foster these experiences--am I describing for myself a method for spontaneous prayer? The times and places are important. On schooldays the expe-riences occur mostly in the evenings after I have completed my day's work. Having put aside preoccupation with projects, I either take a leisurely walk around the campus or sit in one of my favorite places, such as a secluded university garden or the fountain-piazza in front of the church. On weekends the experiences can occur anytime, provided I have put aside preoccupations with work. I must give myself enough time for the experiences to occur--min-imally fifteen minutes, ideally a half hour--and must never be rushed. These experiences of spontaneous prayer, especially as they occur in natural settings, have affected my retreats and vacations. I now choose places for my annual retreats primarily for their setting. I find that my heart moves to God through nature in spontaneous ways that thoroughly refresh me. I consider the for-mal reflections characteristic of retreats as no more important than simply enioying the Lord's presence in nature. In these places God gives me the insights I need for my life. For my annual vaca-tions, too, I choose settings that facilitate spontaneous prayer. I see vacations as similar to retreats, as times for being re-created by God's presence, not simply as times to be distracted from my daily life. I find myself breaking into spontaneous prayer also at other times during the day. Most commonly this occurs after a partic-ularly successful class or during a walk down the campus mall. on an especially beautiful day. And it occurs when I am faithful to times of formal prayer. I believe we sensitize ourselves to the Spirit's presence during formal prayer, making it more likely that prayer will break forth spontaneously during daily activities~ Review for Religious The Spirit and Formal Prayer Only after discussing spontaneous prayer do I feel comfortable discussing formal prayer. Recall that formal prayer refers to time specifically.set aside for personal prayer. The question about the merits of centering prayer and lectio prayer makes sense only in the context of formal prayer. What method of prayer should we use to facilitate responding to the Spirit and reaching commu-nion with God? Remember that our role is to provide the condi-tions for responding to the Spirit. We all have our own rhythms for maintaining union with God. The observations I make here are attempts to share what has been working for myself. They do not imply that this is the way it should be done. Since we humans are complex beings of body, mind, and spirit, it is important for us to 0 find our own personal ways of getting our bod-ies and our minds ready to respond to the Spirit. The following patterns work for me. Time, place, and setting are important. First, the time. After rising, showering, shaving, and getting a cup of coffee, I light a candle and begin a period of sixty to ninety minutes. I sip the coffee and do some journaling; then, putting the coffee aside, I pray the morning office; finally, I move to personal prayer for the last twenty to thirty minutes. I never rush, spending as much time journaling as needed. It.clears my head and allows me to process what has built up in my psyche, matter which could emerge as distractions in my prayer. Often journaling provides the topic for the subsequent prayer. Next, the place. I pray in my own room, in a chair next to a large window that looks eastward over the secluded garden I men-tioned above; the chair, facing my prayer wall, is upholstered and comfortable, but supports me firmly in an upright position. On a side table are all the things I need: my journal, a Bible, the daily office, a lectionary, meditation books related to the liturgical season. I love this room, away from my offices. The window, open in warm weather, gives direct access to the sights and sounds of the garden and to the warmth and light of the rising sun. My prayer wall is hung with favorite icons, prints, and crucifixes gathered over the years; I rearrange it for the various liturgical seasons and feasts. Physical details are key: the time, the place, the furniture and furnishings. The regular rhythm of entering this environment at I believe we sensitize ourselves to the Spirit's presence during formal prayer. July-August 1997 Hauser ¯ Evoking the Spirit this time each day not only helps one to be receptive to the Spirit, but often occasions immediate communion with the Lord. Given the desire for communion with God, praying can be simple: just find the right time and place and go there regularly! Prayer methods, too, can dispose one to receive the Spirit. The methods of lectio prayer and centering prayer differ. Lectio prayer is a response to God's presence in the word. The word of God has many meanings. God is present in the scriptural word; traditionally most have found this to be the most helpful starting point for prayer. God is also present in the word of creation; some find focusing on God's presence in the beauty of nature a more effective beginning. God is present in the existential word as well; many find focusing on God's presence in the events and people of their lives the most effective beginning. But all aspects of cre-ation- images, poetry, music--are words of God and possible starting points for prayer. God is present in all of reality, sus-taining it in existence and using it to bring us into communion: "Creation proclaims the glory of God." In lectio prayer we choose an aspect of God's word to focus our attention; and then .we wait, listen, and respond to that word--under the influence of the Spirit. Our effort is to attend to God's word and, as much as pos-sible, avoid letting our attention be drawn toward distractions. In lectio prayer we are led by the Spirit toward a progres-sively deeper response to God's presence in the word. Frequently the dynamic is from thinking (meditatio) about God's presence~in the word, to praying (oratio) to God in response, to simply rest-ing (contemplatio) in God's presence without either thinking about God or even consciously praying to God. Guido II, a 12th-cen-tury Carthusian abbot, gives the classic expression of the internal dynamic of this prayer: You can see., how these degrees are joined to each other. One precedes the other, not only in the order of time but of causality. Reading (lectio) comes first and is, as it were, the foundation; it provides the subject matter we must use for meditation. Meditation (meditatio) considers more carefully what is to be sought after; it digs, as it were, for treasure which it finds and reveals; but, since it is not in medita-tion's power to seize upon the treasure, it directs us to prayer. Prayer (oratio) lifts itself up to God with all its strength and begs for the treasure it longs for, which is the sweemess of contemplation. Contemplation (contemplatio) when it comes rewards the labors of the other three; it ine-briates the thirsting soul with the dew of h~avenly sweemess. Review for Religlous Reading is an exercise of the outward senses; meditation is concerned with the inward understanding; prayer is con-cerned with desire; contemplation outstrips every faculty. (Guido II, Ladder of Monks, Cistercian Publications, 1978) The goal of the process is contemplation which "outstrips every faculty" and rests in communion with God unmediatated by our own activity. Our activity recedes; God's increases. God holds us close with little or no effort on our part. An image, adapted from Abbot Thomas Keating, helps us understand the process. The Spirit is the river; the word of God the boat; God the ocean. We live in the river (the Spirit). In prayer we allow the Spirit to direct our attention to the boat (the word of God). Focusing on the boat, we move with the boat into the ocean (God). Quite similar to this is the dynamic of spbntaneous prayer. Some aspect of God's word catches our attention. Through the Spirit we respond and are brought into divine communion. Centering prayer is quite different from lec-rio pra~er. It is based bn the truth of God's pres-ence in the center of our being, beyond the level of thoughts and desires. It presumes the scrip-rural model of the self. In centering prayer we respond to God directly, unmediated by reflections on God's word. The method, taken from the 14th-century English classic The Cloud of Unknowing and popularized by Trappist Fathers Keating, Pennington, and Menninger, is simple. We choose a favorite appellation for God, such as, "Father," "Abba, Father," "Jesus," "Lord," "Rabboni." We begin prayer with this "prayer word" and simply sit in faith and love before God. We do not begin With any reflections about God flowing from the word of God; we simply are in faith before God. Our goal is to be totally receptive to the Spirit so that it can hold us in communion. Interior silence, is the matrix for our receptivity. Keating's advice for handling thoughts is simple: Resist no thought, react to no thought, retain no thought; simply return to the. prayer Word. Note that we do not return to this word unless a thought arises. Thoughts inevitably arise and we let them pass, returning to the prayer word. Thoughts even have a positive qual-ity to them because, as we let them pass, ,;re are removing from In centering prayer we respond to God directly, unmediated by reflections on God's word. ff~uly-Auffust 1997 Hauser ¯ Evoking tbe Spirit our psyches obstacles to the contemplative communion with God; they are actually part of the purification process. Handled well, they move us toward interior silence, that is, nonattachment to thoughts. Eventually thoughts may recede and we can be before God in faith with little use of the prayer word. Once you grasp the fact that thoughts are not only inevitable, but an integral part of the healing and growth initiated by God, you are able to take a positive View of them. Instead of looking upon them as painful distractions, you see them in a broader perspective that includes both interior silence and thoughts--thoughts that you do not want but which are just as valuable for the purpose of purifi-cation as moments of profound tranquillity. Vghen everything in the unconscious is emptied out, the kinds of thoughts that were~passing by in the beginning will no longer exist. There is an end to the process of purifi-cation. Then the awareness of union with God will be con-tinuous because there will be no obstacle in our conscious or unconscious life to ~interfere with it. (Thomas Keating, Open Mind, Open Heart, Amity House, pp. 112 and 102) The goal of the process is contemplation which outstrips every faculty and rests in a communion with God unmediated by our own activity--the same goal as that of lectio prayer. The image of the river (the Spirit), boat (the word of God), and ocean (God) is helpful. Remember that we live in the river (the Spirit); in centering prayer we simply move in the river directly into the ocean (God).The prayer word is not a boat; we do not use it to support thinking (meditatio) and loving (oratio) as in lec-tio prayer. The prayer word serves only to symbolize our inten-tion. The Spirit brings us directly into communion without reflection on the word of God. ~ A third method should be discussed, mantra prayer. Its assumptions and dynamics are similar to those of centering prayer. It enters the Christian tradition formally in the 5th century in the Conferences of John Cassian. In mantra prayer, too, we respond to God directly, unmediated by reflections on God's word. But we come to prayer with a previously chosen mantra, not merely with a prayer word. We begin prayer slowly repeating dae mantra, coordinating its four phrases (separated by asterisks) with our inhaling and exhaling. (Most authors, but not all, suggest coor-dination with breathing). Cassian notes that the desert fathers preferred: "O God * come to my assistance * O Lord * make haste Review for Religious to help me." The most famous.mantra in the Christian tradition, however, is the Jesus Prayer that arose among the Greek fathers in the 5th century: "Lord Jesus Christ * Son of God * have mercy on me * a sinner." Any phrase can serve as a mantra. I frequently recast scriptural passages into mantra form. Among my favorites: "The Lord * is my shepherd * there is nothing * I shall want"; "You are my servant * whom I have chosen * my beloved * with whom I am pleased"; "I am the vine * you are the branches * with-out me * you can do nothing." The method for handling thoughts is similar to that of cen-tering prayer. When thoughts occur, we simply let them pass and return to the rhythmic repetition of the mantra. This repetition is the matrix for our receptivity to the Spirit. Our effort in this method is to let pass all thoughts that occur and to return to the repetition of the mantra. We do not reflect upon the mantra, but simply use it as a way to focus our minds and symbolize our inten-tion to pray. (If we begin reflecting upon the. mantra itself, we have switched from mantra prayer to lectio prayer.) As we become still, we may want to drop parts of the mantra or even the entire mantra. We may use only the appellation "Lord" to symbolize our intention. If this occurs, we have moved from mantra prayer to centering prayer. But, in any case, the goal of all these methods is contemplative union with God which "outstrips every faculty." The holy men of the Orthodox Church see the essential task of the Christian life as being to restore this unity to man with a mind and heart integrated through prayer. The mantra provides the integrating power. It is like a harmonic that we sound in the depths of our spirit, bringing us to an' ever-deepening sense of our own wholeness and central har-mony. It leads us to the source of this harmony, to our cen-ter, rather as a radar bleep leads an aircraft home through thick fog. (John Main, Word into Silence, Paulisy Press, p. 15) The Best Method of Prayer? Praying is an art, not a science. The goal of all prayer meth-ods is communion with God. Since only the Spirit can bring about this communion, our role ,is providing conditions conducive to our receiving the Spirit. Communion remains a gift. I once believed--erroneously--that my conscientious use of a particular method guaranteed good results in prayer. There is no best way to pray. Through trial and error we individually discover what works best for ourselves. The following reflections about formal prayer July-~lug~tst 1997 Hauser * Evoking the Spirit present what has been working for me, but may not be helpful for everyone. Sometimes no method is needed. Frequently, after lighting my candle, settling into my prayer chair, sipping my coffee, and doing some journaling, I find myself already close to God with no further effort needed on my part, so I stop journaling. I am already centered; no method is needed. Perhaps my journal writings have brought to mind some blessing, some word of God, from the pre-vious day. The blessing becomes the occasion, the sacrament, for awakening consciousness of God and for resting gratefully in God's presence. The Spirit moves me from gratitude to commu-nion and contemplation. All I know is that I have no desire either to reflect upon or pray over the blessing. Or perhaps the jour-nalings have recalled a need which then becomes the occasion, the sacrament, for awakening consciousness of dependence on God and resting in silent acknowledgment of my helplessness without God: "Be still and know that I am God." Occasionally while I am journaling, saying the office, or doing my personal praying, my attention is caught unexpectedly by something in the garden outside my window: the sun rising through the trees, the song of a bird or the rusde of leaves, the fra-grance of blossoms, the wind blowing. Then I have no desire to continue reflecting Or praying: I find myself held close by God-- I am centered. Nature has become the sacrament occasioning communion with God and contemplation. Frequently my attention is caught by an icon or print on my prayer wall, the Vladimir Madonna, perhaps, or Fra Angelico's Annunciation, or a photograph of the Vatican Museum's 4th-cen-tury sculpture of the Good Shepherd. In the various liturgical seasons I may be especially caught by Hicks's Peaceable Kingdom, Gorgione's Adoration of the Shepherds, Perugino's Crucifixion, Fra Angelico's Noli Me Tangere. I believe the Spirit offers seasonal graces. Sometimes a combination of prayer methods is helpful. If I have not experienced the drawing of the Spirit toward communion and contemplation during journaling and the morning office, I readily choose lectio prayer. Usually something from the previous day or one of the readings from the office presents itself. Sometimes I look over a seasonal meditation book, reading alit-tle and then putting the book aside to see how the Spirit will move in me. Meditation books are helpful as starting points, but Review for Religious then we need to be sensitive to our own inspirations, to the exis-tential word of God as we ourselves experience it in our own lives. We need to wait in God's presence, listen to God's speaking through the word in my heart, and respond in the way the Spirit moves us. We speak only in response to the Spirit and only after we ha~;e listened. The goal of prayer is resting in a communion with God that is beyond thoughts and desires. When I reach this peaceful state, I find it helpful to switch from lectio prayer to mantra prayer. I use the mantra to keep my mind occupied and prevent distractions from arising. The gentle repetition of the mantra sustains my intention. At this point I am held to God by God with virtually no effort on my part. This restful state is often referred to as the prayer of quiet. This beginning contemplation is marked by con-scious awareness and enjoyment of God's presence. But sometimes this reflective consciousness recedes and we enter momentarily an even deeper state of contemplation. We become aware of this special grace only when we return to reflective awareness. I often move from mantra prayer to centering prayer. After a period of mantra prayer, I may find the mantra unnecessary and even bothersome. My faculties are quiet; I am centered. Using a simple prayer word, I move in faith and love toward God. When distractions arise I let them pass, renewing my intention by my prayer word, all in response to the Spirit. We speak only in response to the Spirit and only after we have listened. Evoking the Spirit God made us to be fulfilled in communion with the Father and Jesus through the Holy.Spirit--a fulfillment expressed both in prayer and in service to our neighbor. The Spirit in us yearns always for this fulfillment. In formal prayer we consciously attend to our relationship with God; ~n Sl~Ontan60us prayer it just hap-pens. Both are identity experiences, both are "movements of our hearts to God under the influence of the Spirit." The prayer expe-rience is the experience of our deepest identity; complex methods ought not get in the way of this basic yearning, of our being. I believe that all methods of Christian prayer are somehow related to one another. .~dy-,qug~st 1997 L3-S-7- Hauser ¯ Evoking the Spirit Each of us has the challenge of discovering how the Spirit is moving within us to help us experience our deepest identity. We ought never be discouraged. No matter how disturbing and pre-occupying the external events of our lives may be, we can always pray because we have been given the Spirit to help us in our weak-ness. I think Paul had his own tumultuous life in mind--and per-haps also Jesus' experience in Gethsemane--when he wrote the following words to the community in Rome, a comraunity expe-riencing persecution and even death for their faith in Christ: The Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings.~And the one who searches hearts knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because it intercedes for the holy ones according to God's will. (Rm 8:26-27) AMORALTHEOLOGIAN'S REQUEST¯ Professor Germaln Gnsezas beg~nmng to work on the fourt~i volume of his systemau9 treatment.of moral theolo, gy ennded The Way of the Lord Jesus. ThiS,final volun~e will troat~thE i'esp0hsibilities proper to women and men lbiing the coiasecrated life and to men who have been ordained as deacons, priests, or bishops. He seeks a~dv~lce from those whose responslbdmes he will be ~eating. To stimulate reflection tfe proposes'some questions: - What Would you expecl~ of the book ] am undertaking? What is a ~bmpa~:able resource yod Can~ think of and Would recommdnd,to a no,ice or a seminarian? ¯ What moral problems'do religious or clerics sometimes experience that are never touched on by magisterial documents and~ perhaps, seldom or never discussed in., books and journals? ~ . ¯ What rec~nt books and/or ~a_rticles have y9ufound "" ¯ especially helpful?~, ~ ¯ ,~,~,* Besides obvious ~6pics such as obedience and virginity or, celibacy for the kingdom's sake, what Other matters sh6uld I~onsider? : - ¯ ~3esid~s stu~13?ing~relevant paSs~ag~ in Scripture and. - " rele~cant magisterial docunient~,of the.tweritieth century, o whatother sources should I use?~ " Any communication he reEeives will be kept in .~tfictest confidence. All real cases used as examples in the book will be fictionalized to safeguard.~ privacy Please contact: Germain Gi'isez; Mount Saint Mary's College; En~mitsburg, Ma~land 21727, USA. Review for Religious JUDY ROXBOROUGH Liturgy of the Hours: Path to Integration Rilar Feliu STJ, former superior general of the Teresian sters, once described the Liturgy of the Hours as the frame that encloSes our day. Like the frame of a painting, our common prayer time can radically change the way we perceive the day as we look forward to it at Lauds, and back on it at Vespers. Bringing our lives to prayer through the Hours can effect far more than bringing a new perspective or adding a rosy tone' to our view. It can also be the channel for the powerful working of the word of God, which is "living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword" (Hb 4:12). Encountering in a prayerful setting the psalms and other scripture texts again and again through the cycle of the seasons, allows them to work on us, "penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow,., to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart." Perhaps the image of a loom is more appropriate than a simple frame, for through the Hours run the threads of the word, and the threads of our lives, which can be woven together into a fabric both beautiful and whole. The Liturgy of the Hours is the frame on which we can discover unity and wholeness, helping us to integrate our lives. The first task at Lauds is to become engaged in the act of prayer. For some of us this may not be .an automatic event. At times I have found myself physically present at Lauds, perhaps Judy Roxborough STJ, a sister of the Society of St. Teresa of Jesus, has been a computer programmer in rocket-data analysis, meteorology, and telephone-circuit simulation and also an editor. She is currently involved in her first love, teaching, at Sacred Heart School in Uvalde, Texas. Her address is 343 North Crisp Street; Uvalde, Texas 78801. t-3- 9 July-August 1997 Roxborougb ¯ Liturgy of the Hours even mentally present, but somehow not engaged. I haste not tuned in to the act of prayer, the fundamental attitude of wor-ship. It is as if I were racing the engine, but in neutral. With the clutch disengaged, the highest octane gas is not going to produce one foot of forward motion. And so it seems with prayer when we are not engaged--nothing happens, in spite of all the proper rituals and words. For me it is often something from .without that calls me into prayer--a word of introduction, a song, or perhaps a line from a psalm engages me and leads me into prayer. When this happens, I am integrated into prayer, into the moment, and into relationship with my Creator. My focus changes as once again I realize the simple truth that I am creature entering into praise of my Creator. This shift in focus is the narrow doorway through which I can encounter the divine. The Liturgy of the Hours also provides a way of bringing.us a deeper .awareness of the passage of time, not just in a chrono-logical sense, but as sacred time: time as participation, together with the universe, in God's plan of salvation. The cycle of the Hours, praying Lauds at sunrise, Vespers at sunset, helps to inte-grate us with the rhythm of the day. We find our place in the diur-nal cycle. The day begins at Lauds, and in a sense the whole day becomes present as we look towards it. This is the proper moment to consecrate the day to God, to invoke the Spirit, to ask for a blessing on all that we will do, to form within our hearts the inten-tion to serve God well this day. At Vespers the day is again pres, ent--in memory--and is gathered together in thanksgiving. Whether we have succeeded or failed, found joy or sorrow, there is thankfulness that God has brought us through the day, never abandoning us. Vespers joyfully remembers, gives thanks, cele-brates, and offers the day back to God, with a sense of completion. Through the celebration of the seasons, we also find our place in the liturgical year. Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, Pentecost, ordinary time, and special community feasts all give us reference points within the flow of time. The simple act of becoming aware of the season in a prayerful setting helps us to become more inte-grated in time. Just as the priest puts on vestments to celebrate the Eucharist, so do we put on the season thr.ough the Hours. The mood and nuances of the season become our own. P~rticipafing in the season in this wa.y heightens our own sense of wholeness and of being at one with the world we' dwell in. This is especially meaningful in a society which anticipates seasons for commercial Review for Religious purposes, discarding them as soon as their monetary potential has expired. In many ways, as we have become insulated from natural surroundings, we have lost much of our connection with seasons, and the Liturgy of the Hours helps to mend this separation. At times we commemorate special moments of our lives in the Liturgy of the Hours: personal milestones, community feasts, civil occasions. This too helps bring unity to our lives, putting the milestones in Christian perspec-tive, forging new bonds as we each cel-ebrate our unique heritage, and making connections with the stream of civilian life. In a different sense we may find a new integration in time through the repetition of the psalms themselves. I may be struck for the first time with an application of a psalm to some event of the past. Suddenly both the psalm and the event become fresh for me and acquire new meaning. The psalm becomes my own (integrating my life with Scripture), and the past is inte-grated with the present.as it is reinterpreted in the context of the whole. This process is like weaving, going back to pick up the old threads of our lives and weaving them together with the new. The fabric of my life becomes a little more whole; time itself is being redeemed. The past is not lost forever, but brought back, cleansed a little, purified a little, healed a little, as it is brought to prayer and we discover God moving within those bygone events. The very act of praying together with the community has aspects of integration. The community chooses an hour for prayer, often one that few actually find optimal. Nevertheless, we com-mit ourselves to this time, integrating our desires and needs as community. Our physical presence at community prayer enfleshes and symbolizes our commitment to be one, a commitment that will demand a little dying from us each day. The intercessions that we offer also provide an opportunity for further integration within the community. To the extent that we are willing to bring our petitions to God beftre our brothers and sisters, to the extent that we are willing to hear their interces-sions and hold them in our hearts, to the extent that we are will- Our physical presence at community prayer enfleshes and symbolizes our commitment to be one, a bommitment that will demand a little dying from us each day. ~7~tly-Augttst 1997 Roxborou~b ¯ Liturgy of the Hours ing to pray earnestly for one another, making one another's bur-dens our own, we deepen our community life. Here is a wonder-ful opportunity to risk loving one another in community by sharing our concerns, our needs, our failures; by accepting the concerns, needs, and failures of others. Our union with the entire Body of Christ is also strength-ened as we pray the church's own prayer. We join with all the church in praying the psalms, in celebrating feasts and seasons, in lifting up our hearts to praise God for the resurrection, in thank-ing God for the day. In daily intercession we pray with and for the church, just as we do for our own needs~and for those of the com-munity. We expa~nd our horizons to the whole church, indeed, to all of humanity, through prayer. We can give a voice to the voice-less as we offer prayers of praise and petition on behalf of all those who cannot pray, those who do not know how to pray, those whose hearts are hardened against prayer. When we speak to the Lord on behalf of others, we share their burden~ and find com-munion with them. This communion, the fruit of prayer, is a grace for us, a gift that brings us to our rightful relationship.with our brothers and sisters, a relationship that allows us to become more whole, more human. Our prayer with and on behalf of others is not limited to our fellow Christians, nor even to all humanity, but includes all of God's creation. We are voice for the whole universe, awaiting redemption: "Creation awaits with .eager expectation the revela-tion of the children of God; for creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord but because of the one who sub-jected it, in hope that creation itself would be set free from slav-ery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now" (Rm 8:19-22). All creation is groaning, crying out for redemption. The universe itself suffers the wounds of sin and alienation and yearns for healing. We can become voice for all creatures, for all creation, in our prayer. When we lift our voices in praise or petition to the Creator, we offer praise and petition on behalf of all creatures, all creation: .birds and fish, trees and rocks. The same psalms that we recite proclaim the praise of God's silent ones: . Let the rivers clap their hands, the mountains shout with them for joy. (Ps 98:8) Let the plains be joyful and all that is in them. Review for Religious Then let ~ill the trees Of the forest rejoice. (Ps 96:12) You mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars; You animals wild and tame, you creatures that crawl and fly; You kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and all who govern on earth; young men and women too, old and young alike. Let them all praise the LORD's name, for his name alone is exalted, majestic above earth and heaven. (Ps 148:9-13) The untilled meadows also drip; the hills are robed with joy. The pastures are clothed with flocks, the valleys blanketed with grain; they cheer and sing.for joy. (Ps 65:13) In becoming voice for the speechless, we find union with cre-ation, and in that union we also find our creaturehood, so that we can become more the persons we are called to be: creatures, redeemed, proclaiming God's goodness, There is a wholeness and unity suggested here, a sense of peace deriving from this kind of connectedness to the whole of God's world. To make that con-nection, even for a few moments of prayer, spins another thread that can help bind the wounds of separation for ourselves, for our communities, for "our world. Indeed, the hour we spend praying the Liturgy of the Hours offers us a path toward wholeness. Speechless In wordless psalmody I watch the sun strike golden fire atop the trees. A finite moment stills Infinity, emboldens a dare to spell a sunrise ignited by Divinity. Anna Marie Mack SSJ 3~dy-Aug~lst 1997 spiritua direction STEVE R. WIGALL What Is a Spiritual Director's Authority? One of the most debated issues in the literature of spiri-tual direction is that of the spiritual director's authority. Some argue that it is improper for spiritual directors to wield authority over their directees. They see the author-ity that has been traditionally and historically invested in the role of the director as a problem to be apologized for and avoided. Others view spiritual directors as people who properly carry a divine authority by reason of their being gifted by God to be divine instruments in directees' lives. This article surveys thes~ arguments and suggests an alter-native way of understanding the issue. Authority Is Negative Numerous articles and books begin their discussion of spiritual direction with an almost embarrassed effort to avoid, or at least redefine, the classic terms spiritual guidance or spiriiual direction. The Reverend Peter Ball, canon of S~. Paul's Cathedral in England, writes about his discomfort with both words, spiritual and direction. He considers them ambiguous and liable to be misunderstood. He expresses particular concern that the word direction implies "a sense of authority, even authoritarianism." After Steve R. Wigall is a Presbyterian clergyman and a candidate for the Th.D. degree at Boston University School of Theology. His address is 296 Lowell Street; Lawrence, Massachusetts 01841. Review for ReIigious all, he says, "a director directs, steers, is in charge. Directions are orders. You are supposed to comply with them, to obey." l William Barry and William Connolly, too, find spiritual direc-tion an awkward term: "The term spiritual direction unavoidably suggests to people of our contemporary Western culture a spiri-tualism and an authoritarianism that sound theology and psy-chology must repudiate." The fear they express is that the classic terms guidance and direction describe a practice that places exces-sive authority in the hands of the director) Green agrees that a director should not be given too much authority. He insists that the director's role with the directee must be only that of a "co-discerner" of God's voice? Doherty addresses the same concern by insisting the director should be merely the directee's friend.4 Schneiders insists that the spiritual director must exercise no authority at all over the directee. She writes that the director is just a companion whose role is to point the directee to God, but who in no way speaks, to the directee in God's name. The director-directee relationship, she writes, is fraternal or sis-terly, rather than parental,s She goes on to argue that it is invalid for the director to take an authoritarian role or to set the direc-tion of another's life, since people must exercise that responsibil-ity themselves. The director, she states, does not and cannot give direction, but merely helps directees find or discern God's direc-tion for themselves.6 Authority is Positive Other writers are less hesitant to describe the role of the director as one of authority. Guenther, for example, argues that the role of the spiritual director cannot possibly be one of mutuality and friendship. She writes that spiritual direction is essentially a hierarchical relationship in which the focus is not meant to be shared, but is to be on the directee.7 Bots and de Vries agree'that a spiritual director is not a spiritual friend. The image of friend-ship, they contend, places too much emphasis on the human aspect of the relationship and not enough on the role of the Holy Spirit.s William McNamara, who runs a spiritual retreat center in Sedona, Arizona, attributes to the spiritual director the high authority of a spiritual teacher, much like that of a guru in the Hindu tradition.9 Kallistos .Ware, like many writers who speak from the Orthodox tradition, describes the spiritual director as .y~dy-August 1997 Wigall * Wbat ls a Spiritual Director's Authority one to whom a directee gives trust and obedience, In Ware's view, the directee submits to the director's authority in order to avoid the ego trap of trying to make spiritual progress by self-will and personal effort.1° Those who invest the spiritual director with significant authority do so because they believe that God gifts and uses the director. Andrd Louf, for example, argues that a director is accorded authority as a spiritual elder because he or she is given a spiritual gift or charism by God, and that the charism enables the director to receive and impart God's authoritative word of guid-ance.~ 1 Sister Donald Corcoran explains that, in the Orthodox tradition, the authority of the spiritual director is based on the recognition that the spiritual director is a person in and through whom God works. Directors, she states, are called spiritual father or mother because they are used by God, in parentlike manner, to engender, convey, and nurture spiritual life in their directees.~2 Looking back in history, we find many authors expressing this same confidence in the spiritual director's authority. St. Symeon the New Theologian, for example, taught that the directee should understand that, because of the director's God-given gift, "fol-lowing [the director] . . . is following Christ." This is not, as Blessed John of Avila says, that directees should "subject [them-selves] to another person. [or] confide in. a person alone." The directee's confidence in the director's authority is based on his or her faith "in God, who will speak to you and strengthen you through another person."~3 Merton explains the original histor-ical reason for the authority that was accorded to spiritual direc-tors: He writes that historically the authority of spiritual directors was based on a recognition of their charism and that--when the first hermits went out into the desert, leaving behind established Christian communities--they exchanged the hierarchical guid-ance of their bishops for the guidance of the spiritually gifted.~4 An Alternative Perspective Obviously, some are comfortable investing the spiritual direc-tor with divine authority, while others are not. The question of authority is approached from different perspectives. Authority is seen as something negative by those who believe in egalitarian relationships and by those who are concerned about avoiding its abuse. Authority is seen as positive by those whose worldview is Review for Religious hierarchical and by those who are concerned about avoiding chaos and disorder. There are legitimate concerns on both sides ofithe authority question. I suggest that, when we look at the concerns that are dis-cussed under the ~bric of the spiritual director's authority, two fundamental questions can be found at the heart of this debate: (1) Does the director see and acknowledge the Holy Spirit as the authority for and source of his or her ministry? and (2) Does the director's ministry set the directee free to follow where God is truly leading? Ouestion One: Corcoran is a good example of an author who argues that Christ's Spirit is the Christian's one and only spiritual director. She points out that, while othe~ religious traditions have master-disciple relationships in which the disciple obeys the authority of an earthly master, Christianity does not have an equivalent relationship. Christ still lives. His Spirit is still pre sent with and within each of his followers and is still the one master of every Christian disciple. Christ's Spirit, says Corcoran, is still the Christian's only authority.Is Because Christ is the Christian's one true spiritual director, the only authority a human spiritual director can have is derivative. This insight is cru-cial to the debate over the spiritual director's authority. Whether spiritual directors claim to speak with God!s authority or claim to .be merely spiritual friends who point their directees toward God, it is crucial that directors acknowledge to themselves and to their directees as well that God and God alone is the central authority in their life and ministry. Question Two: St. John of the Cross, along with St. Teresa of Avila, stands at the head of the great Carmelite tradition of spir-itual direction, one which is not the most laissez-faire of traditions. Yet St. John is an outstanding example of those who champion the freedom of the individual directee. In The Living Flame of Love, John strongly advocates that each directee needs to be granted the freedom to follow God's Will. Those who are born of the Spirit, he says, are wildly free and need to know that God alone is their Lord and guide.~6 This second insight is crucial t6 Those who invest the spiritual .director with significant authority do so because they believe t hat God gifts and uses the director. ~dy-August 1997 Wigall * What Is a Spiritual Director's Authority the debate over the spiritual director's authority. No matter how spiritual directors understand or carry their authority, a more important question by far is whether and to what degree spiri-tual directors are able to set the individual directees free to follow the unique path along which God is leading each one. How spiritual directors envision their own authority is deter-mined to a large extent by the theological tradition and the cul-tural context within which they operate. One director may be comfortable claiming to be a spiritual abba or aroma or a spiri-tual elder; another may be more comfortable claiming to be a spiritual friend. Both sides of the authority question can benefit from realizing that the important issue at stake in this matter is not so much how spiritual directors conceptualize their authority; rather, it is how they answer the two questions raised in this arti-cle, both of which refer to the crucial underlying matter of the quality of the director-directee relationship. These two questions also directly relate to the issue of authority. However, they shed light on the practice of spiritual direction in a way that the'debate over the authority of spiritual directors has failed to do. I suggest that what underlies the concern for affirming the director's authority as God-given is the question of whether direc-tors acknowledge their dependence on God's Spirit. I suggest that the question of whether they protect and assure their directees' freedom is what underlies the concern for limiting the director's authority. Both of these questions represent concerns that relate to the director-directee relationship, and both are essential for spiritual directors to address. No matter how spiritual directors understand their authority, they need to deal with these two issues, They need to acknowledge openly their submission to God's authority. And they need to set their directees free to seek and follow Gdd. Notes 1 Peter Ball, Journey into Truth: Spiritual Direction in the Anglican Tradition (London: Mowbray, 1996), pp. 4-5. 2 William A. Barry and William J. Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (Minneapolis: Seabury Press, 1982), pp. 9-11. 3 Thomas H. Green, Opening to God (Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1977), p. 49. 4 Rose Marie Dbherty, "Doing Spiritual Direction in a Group," Praying 29 (March-April 1989): 6-7. Review for Religious s Sandra Marie Schneiders, Spiritual Direction (Chicago: National Sisters Vocation Conference, 1977): 19-20, 47-48. 6 Schneiders, "The Return to Spiritual Direction," Spiritual Life 18, no. 4 (Winter 1972): 275, and "The Contemporary Ministry of Spiritual Direction," Chicago Studies 15 (Spring 1976): 123. 7 Margaret Guenther, Holy Listening: The Art of Spiritual Direction (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Cowley Publications, 1992), p. 3. 8 Jan Bots and Piet Penning de Vries, "On Spiritual Direction," Review for Religious 40, no. 4 (July-August 1981): 496. 9 William McNarn~ara, "Psychology and the Christian Mystical Tradition," in Transpersonal. Psychologies, ed. Charles Tart (New York: Harper and Row, 1975), pp. 408, 425. ,0 Kallistos Ware, "The Spiritual Father in Orthodox Christianity," Cross Currents 24 (Summer-Fall 1974): 296. 11 Andr~ Louf, "Spiritual Fatherhood in the Literature of the Desert," in Abba: Guides to Wholeness and Holiness, East and West, ed. J. Sommerfeldt (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1982), pp. 38-40. lz Donald Corcoran, "Spiritual Guide: Midwife of the Hig,her Spiritual Self," in Abba, ed.J. Sommerfeldt, 356-357. 13Jerome M. Neufelder and Mary C. Coelho, eds., Writings on Spiritual Direction (Minneapolis: Seabury Press, 1982), pp. 18-19. 14 Thomas Merton, Spiritual Direction and Meditation (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1960), pp. 3-4: is Donald Corcoran, "Spiritual Guidance: The Role of Spiritual Directors in Christian Spirituality," in Christian Spirituality, ed~ B. McGinn and J. Meyendorf (New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1995), pp. 444, 448-451. 16 Joel Giallanza, "Spiritual Direction according to St. John of the Cross," in Spiritual Direction: Contemporary Readings, ed. Kevin G. Culligan (Locust Valley, New York: Living Flame Publishers, 1983), p. 202. July-Aug~tst 1997 SHAUN McCARTY Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction Cdonfidentiality is a critical consideration in a spiritual-irection relationship as well as a serious ethical impera-tive for the director.-This derives from the nature and history of spiritual direction, which deals with the most intimate levels of a person's life. The topic, theh, merits careful cqnsideration. I intend to e~xpl0re: (1) the nature of confidentiality; (2) why it is critical for the spiritual-direction relationship; (3) some legal considera-tions concerning its observance; (4) the relative merits of church regulation of this ministry to protect the confidentiality rights of the one :guiding and the one guided; and (5) an alternative to out-side regulation in dealing with the need for the exercise of a' responsible ministry of spiritual direction. Nature of Confidentiality "Confidentiality" has to do with keeping secrets. Something is "confidential" when a private matter is imparted in secret. "Confidence" carries the sense of firm belief in, reliance on, and assurance of another keeping trust. "Confiding," then, assumes a trusted "confidant." A "secret" is a hidden fact which may not be divulged, whether it be a fault or even something good that needs protection, for example, inventions or special recipes. There are three kinds of Shaun McCarty ST, currendy on a sabbatical, l~as been director of Trinity Ministries Center for several years. He writes from 1733 Metzerott Road; Adelphi, Maryland 20783. Review for Religious secrets: (1) A "natural" secret, in which the obligation to secrecy arises from the nature of the case, for example, deeply personal matters spoken of within close human fellowship or matters whose revelation would in some way injure or displease another (such as defamatory gossip). (2) A "promised" secret, which is to be kept, not by the nature of the case, but because of one's subsequent promise not to reveal the matter; the obligation arises from fidelity to one's declared word, but does not apply to useless or inane matters. (3) An "entrusted" secret, wherein the matter is revealed on the condition (whether explicit or implicit) that it will be kept secret. A special kind of entrusted secret is referred to as a "pro-fessional" secret; it obliges doctors, lawyers, the clergy, and some others by reason of their professions. This is the most binding secret of all. It is with this privileged category of professional secret that spiritual direction is concerned. Those bound to secrecy include not only the director, but all those'who may become privy to it, such as supervisors, consultants, and supervi-sory and peer-supervisory groups. The Necessity of Confidentiality Confidentiality is an imperative that arises from the need for discretion in matters where serious harm may come to self, oth-ers, or communities. People have a right to privacy. Confidentiality is a practical demonstration of reverence for the personal, inti-mate, and sacred values of another person. There is also a need on the part of both individuals and the public at large for a climate of freedom and trust wheri it comes tb seeking help that involves the revelation of confidential material. Vital to the effectiveness of guiding, helping, . and healing professions.are these elements of freedom and trust. Few events can be more destructive or preclusive of contin-ued help than the violation of trust and loss of such freedom of exchange. Not only is a violation of confidentiality destructive of the relationship with the person who divulges personal informa-tion, but it often can make the person betrayed wary of ever entrusting anyone else with similar confidences. It leaves deep wounds that are a long time healing. Some mention should also be made concerning the damage done to the integrity, reputa-tion, and future effectiveness of the one revealing the confidence. It can compromise that person's integrity and credibility for the ~dy-Aug~st 1997 McCart~ ¯ Con~dentiali~ Issues in S~iritual Direction future. The matter of confidentiality is of special concern in a ministry as sensitive as spiritual direction, for it is especially dependent upon the establishment and maintenance of that trust-ful silence so vital to open dialogue. In Catholic circles especially, spiritual direction has tradi-tionally been distinct from, yet closely akin to, sacramental con-fession and the confidentiality surrounding it. Spiritual direction is referred to as belonging within the "internal, nonsacramental forum"; sacramental confession, the "internal, sacramental forum." Exceptions With the exception of sacramental confession (and, as some would hold, spiritual direction), some secrets may be revealed under certain circumstances. A basic axiom in regard to most secrets is: The more important the secret, the greater the reason needed to reveal it. The obligation to secrecy ceases ordinarily when (1) there is permission from the one who owns and reveals it; (2) when it has already been disclosed by others; (3) when there is sufficient reason to avert a greater evil, that is, to avert a grave danger to the common good or serious harm either to a third party or to the person revealing it. It is permissible to discuss confidential material in consulta-tion with a prudent third party while at the ~ame time taking care to protect the anonymity of the person revealing it--unless that person objects. In regard to spiritual direction, such a likelihood should be discussed and agreed to when the initial working rela-tionship is negotiated. As with the revelation of secrets, it is,also unethical to probe into secrets unless for a serious reason and by using just means. The fields of investigative journalism and criminal investigation have in recent years brought public attention to the ethical ques-tions of both what may be investigated and what methods may be used. Some Legal Considerations In the United States there are civil and ecclesiastical laws both protecting and restricting confidentiality that may some-times be in conflict or simply inadequate.~ Review for Religious Traditionally, constitutional decisions of the Supreme Court have deferred to ecclesiastical law, not wishing to interfere with the free exercise of religion which is protected under the religion clause of the first amendment of the United States Constitution. As a consequence, not only has the confidentiality concerning sacramental confession by an ordained Catholic priest been respected, but likewise the legal right to keep priv-. ileged communications confidential has been afforded to clergy of other traditions. Though they vary from state to state, statutes con-cerning the "clergy" privilege are part of each state's rules of evidence. Under them the fundamental rule is that the public has a right to every person's evidence. Privileged communications are an exception and must meet certain restrictive requirements. While "minister" is usually interpreted in a strict sense, that is, one who is ordained in the church, the parameters of this clergy priv-ilege vary from state to state. In familiarizing oneself with particular statutes, there are some questions that need to be asked such as: Who qualifies as a member of the "clergy"? What types of communi-cation are covered? What do the statutes require in terms of the regulation of the ministry of spiritual direction by a given church, denomination, or community? What must be the expectation of the one making the communication? What must be the nature of the relationship between the 'spiritual director and the one mak-ing the communication? 2 There have been conflicting decisions in the courts concern-ing those not ordained who are consulted as spiritual directors and who have claimed clergy privilege. In a case arising in 1971 in New Jersey, a Catholic sister was cited for contempt for her refusal to testify in a murder trial of a former pupil for whom she had been spiritual director. She claimed the statutory privilege allowed by New Jersey law protecting the confidentiality of those authorized by her church as a minister of spiritual direction. Her plea was rejected because counsel was unable to find anything in Catholic doctrine or practice that would give her the right to claim privileged communication? More recently, in 1985, a sister in Missouri refused to make a deposition concerning a plaintiff because of a previous relationship as spiritual director and was granted the clergy privilege by way of extension,4 The more important the secret, the greater the reason needed to reveal it. 37zdy-August 1997 2VlcCarty * Confutentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction ~ As more recognition is given to nonordained people who are nevertheless exercising ministries such as spiritual direction, it might be hoped that clergy privilege would be extended further. Yet legislators and courts, understandably and for obvious reasons, favor restriction of privilege when it comes to withholding evi-dence. In recent years, even pre~;iously recognized clergy privilege has been abrogated in many states with reference to child abuse. ~ Ecclesiastical law in the Roman Catholic Code of Canon Law (1983) carefully protects the secrecy of material confided in sacra-mental confession (cc. 983-984),,but has little to say with direct reference to the nonsacramental ministry of spiritual direction, in which.a growing number of nonordained people have become involved. As previously noted, civil law will generally respect the provisions of ecclesiastical law. Given the absence of specific eccle-siastical recognition of spiritual direction in the ministries of the church, it is difficult to discuss the rights of the nonordained in reference to privileged communication. Both official recognition and outside regulation of spiritual direction are problematic. There are some who have advocated regulation of this min-istry by ecclesiastical law to protect people from civil- and crim-inal- law requirements.5 They suggest that special guidelines, standards, or even statutes be created by denominations and reli-gious communities to protect members from having to divulge confidential information obtained in spiritual direction. Such statutes would call for defining spiritual direction as ministry, establishing it as an office in the church requiring certain quali-fications, providing for the presentation or selection of candi-dates, and making a statement concerning confidentiality that includes specified exceptions. If this course of regulation is fol-lowed, it has been suggested that such statutes or policies be pro-posed on an interfaith basis. This takes into consideration that frequently the spiritual director and the directee do not belong to the same denomination. So as to protect the rights of the confidant, such regulations would provide for no waiver of confidentiality on the part of the one confiding.: The regulations would be clear and consistently implemented. It has been further proposed that they would also include confidential communications received in pastoral coun-seling. and other nonsacramental ministries in which information is communicated in an atmosphere of confidentiality. Such regu-lation has benefits and deficits that will be dealt with later. Review for Religious There has been some inclination for courts to recognize the right of~nonordained spiritual directors to withhold privileged communications. (Of all the states at the present time, Illinois seems to have legislation most consistent with ecclesiastical pro-visions, even though it limits the privilege to those accredited by the religious body.6) However, for now at least, it would seem that spiritual directors may not assume that th4y can successfully claim clergy privilege in a civil court.7 To Regulate or Not to Regulate? On the one hand, it would seem beneficial for churches and communities officially to recognize and to regulate ministries of spiritual direction. On the other hand, though laws protect, they also tend to con-trol and thus hinder freedom. Regulation would have the advantage of gaining church recognition of the min-istry of spiritual direction. This would seem to make it more likely that the civil authorities would recognize privileged communications made to the nonor-dained, thus providing more legal protec-tion for those involved. In addition to official recognition of a ministry, it would also, seemingly, render malpractice and other forms of litigation less likely in that regulation would require evi-dence of a person's competency to be a spiritual director, would make statements of policy, and would provide for sanctions. On the negative side, with regulation there wouldbe certain trade-offs. Regulations would bring tighter outside controls to what has traditionally been more of a free and charismatic ministry. Recognition of bona fide spiritual directors has.come to a large extent from local faith communities in which people gifted for the ministry have been recognized and sought out, and much less from the approval of some institution, often at a distance from the local scene. Every ministry need not be created into an office. Moreover, regulation raises the question of who determines qualifications, policies, sanctions, and the like. Would such reg-ulation not raise the further complication of limiting the choice of directors to denominations recognized by the regulating agency? I would wonder whether, with the growing number of Both official recognition and outside regulation of spiritual direction are problematic. L3-75-- j%dy-August 1997 McCarty * Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction malpractice suits, a regulating agency might be more liable for suits brought againsf an "approved" or "licensed" director. Such suits tend to go after the "deep pockets" of agencies having affin-ity with the individual. What Is the Alternative to Outside Regulation? Without a doubt, there is need for responsible stewardship in the exercise of any ministry and especially spiritual direction, which deals with the deepest and most delicate matters of a per-son's interior life. But, instead of regulation from the outside or from above, is it not,preferable for provisions and standards to come from within agencies preparing people for this ministry and professional societies supporting and challenging people in their practice of it? Laudable efforts at self-regulation by such groups as Spiritual Directors International, perhaps, have greater promise of balancing freedom with responsibility in exercising a respon-sible stewardship. Ethical and moral guidelines developed in this fashion are apt to call for even higher standards of professional-ism than would legal restrictions or an external regulating agency. Such guidelines would be concerned not just with confidentiality, but also with other important issues such as: (1) help in discern-ing whether one is genuinely called to exercise this ministry; (2) careful preparation and enrichment that would include pertinent understandings, processes, skills, and supervision; (3) encourage-ment: for ongoing education and formation in theological, scrip-tural, psychological, and other related disciplines; (4) maintenance of integrity in the role of spiritual director with regard to time, frequency, place of meetings, and so forth; (5) recognition of lim-its of competency in making or declining to make referrals; (6) avoidance of fostering emotional dependency; (7) ongoing assess-ment of each spiritual-direction relationship; (8) measures of accountability such as insisting that spiritual directors also receive spiritual direction and individual or pee~'-group supervision; and, most of all, (9) keeping, in the relationship, the focus on the per-son's God-relationship. Needed: A Poised Balance In this article we have explored the nature and necessity of Confidentiality in the ministry of spiritual ,direction and also some Revie~ for Religious legal considerations affecting its practice. We have considered some pros and cons of official recognition and outside regulation of this ministry. Hopefully, these considerations underscore the need for faithful stewardship in maintaining a poised balance between freedom and responsibility in the exercise of a ministry that calls for both sacred silence and public accountability. One who goes shopping for a product is cautioned: "Let the buyer beware!" Perhaps it is also wise advice for those seeking official recognition or outside regulation: "Let the seekers beware and proceed with caution!" We need open ears and closed mouths as we fulfill a sacred trust. Notes ' R.P. Stake, "Professionalism and Confidentiality in the Practice of Spiritual Direction," The Jurist 43 (1983): 214-232. z Stake, 227. 3 Stake, 228. 4 D.K. Iopollo et al., Confidentiality in the United States: A Legal and Canonical Study (Washington, D.C.: CLSA, 1988). s Stake, 231-232. 6 Iopollo, pp. 60-61. 7 Stake, 229. Wild Things Wild strawberries in the grass, tiny spots of red amid the green. One does not always understand how the wild things grow, rooted and strong though appearing fragile. So am L Lord, a wild thing, eager to grow anywhere, but there are times when the wind's so strong and it rains so hard and long that my weakness shows. Virginia Skrdlant SHCJ j%dy-August 1997 SEAN D. SAMMON Psychology: An Aid to Religious Formation psychology At the outset, let ug set the record straight: Psychology can be a help or a hindrance to formation for religious life. In the right hands it becomes a valuable tool for help-ing young people take up the life and mission of their congregation or institute. Its findings and principles can assist men and women religious in the middle years, too, and those of us facing the inevitable diminution that comes with age. Psychology, however, can also tyrannize us. In the wrong hands and incorrectly applied, it can lead to exces'- sire self-involvement and give rise to less than adequate preparation for today's demanding apostolic life~ With all that said, this admission must also be made: In some quarters of religious life, considerable suspicion continues to .exist about psychology and its practitioners. While in some instances good reason may support such wariness, in others it might very well be unfounded. This article will explore a possible place for psychol-ogy in initial and ongoing formation. There is nothing magical about the science of psychology. It is made up of many schools of thought, and its pr~actitioners engage in the same kind of debate as researchers in other human sciences do. Psychology is also a young science and, as Sehn D. Sammon FMS is vicar general of the Marist brothers. His address is Fratelli Maristi delle Scuole; C.P. 10250; 00144 Rorna, Italy. Review for Religious such, struggles still to find its place among those other sciences with longer and more established traditions. In spite of its many and varied approaches to the human per-son and its rather brief history, however, the findings of various schools of psychology--when correctly and appropriately applied--can assist formators in calling forth apostles for today. While formation is always the Lord's work, at the present time the~ fruit of the hard labor of some people in the mental-health field might be able to help us in a number of areas. Let us consider, for example, three specific and pressing ini-tial and ongoing formative challenges and examine how psychol-ogy may help: (1) educating for a healthy sense of our sexuality and life of celibate chastity, (2) preparing for the interpersonal chal-lenges found in today's ministry and community, and (3) deepen-ing our self-knowledge so as to ensure that some of our less than sterling motives~ do not interfere with the action that the Lord wishes to take through us. Before we address these issues, though, let us examine a few of psychology's tools and critique their pur-ported power. Psychology Is No "New Priesthood" Every profession has its rituals. Doctors, attorneys, teach-ers-- all have certain agreed-upon methods, principles, points of view. If, for example, you visit a doctor's office with a sore throat, a persistent cough, a headache, chills, and other aches and pains, you expect the physician to carry out a thorough examination and perhaps order some tests in order to diagnose correctly a head cold or pneumonia. Both conditions are treatable; the appropri-ate remedies, however, are different. Psychologists also have their rituals. Testing is one of them. Is there anything magical about the Rorschach test, the Thematic Apperception Test (TAT), the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI), the Reitan battery, or other somewhat more culture-free instruments? Not really. Psychological testing will unearth little more than a perceptive person w0uld find out about another after a year or so of living together. Ask yourself this question: Do many months have i:o pass before you realize who is selfish, self-centered, generous, even-tempered, moody, very intel-ligent, and so forth, in any new community you join? What test-ing does is .give us this information more quickly. July-August 1997 Sammon ¯ Psychology Findings from testing can be of great help to any candidate for religious life and to his or her formators. IL for example, testing tells me that I am overly sensitive, opinionated, rigid, and stub-born-- well, then I have some grist for the mill of formative direc-tion. On the other hand, test results will also tell me about my strengths: my intellectual level, my ability to manage life's chal-lenges. Such findings are powerful allies in the work of forma-tion, for both the candidate and formator. Apostolic religious life has for years judged the admissibility of candidates by three general criteria: at least average intelli-gence, good judgment, and adequate physical health. A medical examination provides information about the last item; psycho-logical testing can help with the first two, To avoid pitfalls in testing, however, one should know, for example, how the test was normed. Obviously, an instrument that used a population of middle-income, midwestern United States citizens to establish its scoring criteria needs to be normed anew before being applied to candidates for religious life in Asia, Africa, Europe, and Latin America. Psychological examiners also need to be well acquainted with religious life and its values. How else will they be able to write a helpful report and provide feedback that encourages rather than hinders the process of formation? Before men and women in lead-ership or formation engage a psychologist to carry out the psy-chological assessment of a candidate or a member of the province, they need to be sure that the examiner understands and respects the values and commitments that are integral to religious life~ Formators also need to know the place of psychotherapy. This can be essential to growth for some members of a province or congregation, but psychotherapy cannot be the very mode of for-mation, even though a formator's accompaniment or direction may have therapeutic aspects. The psychotherapeutic relation-ship is different. It involves, for example, a different kind of per-sonal privacy for the client. If I am a psychologist in a therapeutic relationship with a client, I have no right to reveal anything disclosed to me in that relationship without the client's expressed and written permis-sion. The only exceptions to this rule are the laws in certain juris-dictions that mandate the reporting of some disclosed actual or anticipated criminal behavior such as child sexual abuse or homi-cide. The strict right to privacy that governs therapy allows clients Review for Religious to unburden themselves without fear of reprisal or judgment on the part of the therapist. That right must be protected. Formative direction or accompaniment is, in my opinion, dif-ferent. I prefer the word mentoring to describe this relationship. Mentors are like older brothers or sisters, persons close in age but with more experience. Mentors help younger people--and at times contemporaries and older folks--to identify the dreams in their life and to give those dreams a place in that life. Mentors are both parents and peers, and not exclu-sively one or the other. They offer example, challenge, acceptance, counsel, and at times friendship. The following distinction between a therapist and a mentor might help clarify their differing roles. Therapists, in general, do not disclose to clients information about their own personal lives. In contrast, an accompaniateur (a companionable guide) or person doing'formative direction might often enough use a per-sonal example to encourage the person being directed, to chal-lenge him or her or illustrate a point. Do accompaniateurs and those doing formative direction, then, need to be psychologists to be effective? Of course not. Do they need adequate and up-to-date information about human devel-opment and its principles? Absolutely. Most accompaniateurs can also benefit from having at hand a mental-health person to help with advice or to provide supervision when needed. To insist that every accompaniateur or person doing formative direction be a psychotherapist, however, misses this important reality: religious formation is a spiritual and not a psychological journey. Religious formation is a spiritual and not a psychological journey. Education for a Healthy Sense of Human Sexuality and Celibate Chastity Celibate chastity is in trouble today. When a colleague, friend, student, or family member asks us why we are living a life of celi-bate chastity, we respond quickly: For the sake of the kingdom, to love everyone and not just one person, to be more available. Then we pause and hope that there will be no more questions.~ The vast majority of us in religious life' have had inadequate education about human sexuality and celibate chastity. How many Sammon ¯ Psycholo~ of us, for example, recognize the important distinction between sexuality and genitality or realize that celibate chastity cannot be equated with asexuality?. Celibate chastity is a particular way of liv-ing out my sexuality. Today, more than before, psychology can provide us with realistic information about our human sexuality, information that will also help us to grow in our appreciation of our life of celibate chastity. God can be held responsible for passing out sexual energy. Just as we have spiritual energy, so also we have sexual energy. For what purpose? Our sexual energy draws us into relationships with other people and with our God. For some of us it might come as a surprise to learn that. the purpose of sexual and spiritual energy is the same: union with God and with others. Any adequate program of education for celibate chastity would do well to include information about the factors that advance or impede healthy psychosexual development. In addition, we could benefit today by some additional frank discussion about sexual orientation, masturbati~)n, intimacy in relationships (and the dif-ferent expectations of men and women in this latter area), and the spiritual foundation for celibate chaste living. During our religious formation many of us were warned about "particular friendships." Stop for a moment now and consider that phrase, Then ask yourself this question: Is there any other type of friendship than a particular friendship? I do not think so. Obviously, this preoccupation with particular friendships was often at the heart of past concerns about sexuality: a fear that . people might lose control of one very powerful part of their lives. We need to be quite clear about this important point: All of us must make decisions in life about our human sexuality. Married people, single and single-again people, celibate chaste people--no ¯ one escapes the process of decision making. For our peace of mind, the decisions we make need to be in keeping with our val- . ues and commitments. If I am a married man, for example, and I )want to remain faithful to my wife, I will have to set some limits in other important relationships in my life. If any of us believe that we do not, from time to time, have to make some difficult deci-sions about how we will channel our sexual energy, we are living in a dream world. Psychology can assist us in our education about .human sexu-ality. Furthermore, studies made of stages of growth in lives of celibate chastity2--~ith its fidelities and failures can help all of Review for Relig4ous us appreciate the wonder of this way of being a sexual person. Paradoxically, in the end psychology can help us understand that to be at home with our life of celibate chastity we must ultimately face what it means to be a spiritual person. Most of us are quite at ease when talking about the place of poverty and obedience in our lives. While we might not always agree on the day-to-day specifics involved in living out these vows, we can, without too much difficulty, discuss their place in our lives. Psychology and its current findings about human sex-uality might help us achieve the same ability to discuss celibate chastity. Interpersonal Challenge,s Found in Today's Ministry and Community Life Have you ever lived with a'chronic complainer? This simple test will help you decide if there is one in your life: When some-one comes to talk with you, does he or she generally sit down right away? You know the reason full well: they are going to be there for a long, long'time. The story of Jonah illustrates this: even God tired of such incessant whining! How about life with negativists--those people who, when faced with a new and hopeful idea, respond by saying "it won't work," "we tried it last year and it failed," and "those in charge around here are not intelligent enough to see to its implementation." Do stallers hold a prominent place in your life of ministry?- folks who ~iust could not make a decision even if your life and theirs depended on it. And what about men and women who with'- hold information unnecessarily so as to keep undue control of any situation? Realistic people do not expect their lives of ministry or in community to be altogether free of troublesome folks. There are, however, some individuals whose behavior can sap energy from us that would be better directed toward the work of the mission. Organizational psychology and some of its principles can teach us to cope with these difficult characters and their kissing cousins.3 With what outcome? So that all of us can get on better with the task at hand:'living together harmoniously and carrying out our mission in the church. Every community, too, passes through its own stages of growth.4 Some communities are healthy places in which to live, Jvdy-August 1997 Sammon * Psychology others less so. We have all participated in community meetings, for example, where the real meeting took place in small groups after the formal meeting had come to a close. Poor communica-tion skills, the lack of a vocabulary with which to discuss some difficult topics, a failure to learn ways to respectfully disagree with one another when necessary--all those factors can make life in community something other .than what it should be: a support to us in carrying out our mission. Psychology can help a community identify where it is in its own development and can suggest steps that can be taken to enhance its spiritual, ministerial, and interpersonal growth. Psychology can also help us develop the skills we need to live together more effectively and with genuine Christian charity. We all need a place to come home to. If our religious com-munities fail to be places where friendship is possible, human hnd spi~ritual support available, and the love that can exist between sisters, and brothers evident--well, then, who would freely choose to live this life? In many church ministries today, there are tensions. Sometimes it is tension between men and women. At times strife develops between priests and lay religious or between religious and their lay partners. Tension can spring up among members of any ministry team. If the level of tension in our ministry reaches a point where the mission is no longer being carried out effectively, the science of psychology can provide some specific help. More importantly, principles of psychology can. be used to nip in the bud any developing problem before it becomes something larger than life. 3-84 Self-kngwledge in the Service of the Mission Did you know that there is no such thing as a perfect family? There are good enough families--where 'the people and the place provide what we need for life, along with a push out the door so that life can expand--but, no, perfect families exist only in the imagination of some people. We take our families with us when we come into religious life. ~While its members may not be physically visible, they do participate in some way in every community meeting that we attend. Families shape and form us--for good or ill. We: also bring along to religious life what we learned about Review.for Religious ourselves while living in our family. In yours, for example, how was anger dealt with, was sexuality talked about openly, did disagree-ment give rise to alienation from the family at large? In some families, for example, members may stop talking to one another in the face of a disagreement or disappointment. In my family, for example, I realize in retrospect that expres-sions of anger were not encouraged. To signal that events were getting out of hand with me, my mother would often use the phrase "Sefin, be nice!" Though nowadays I pay less attention to it, still--when I am feeling angry, even at my present age--I hear her saying "Se~in, be nice!" Some of us suffer from low self-esteem. Simply put, we do not think we are worth very much. Low self-esteem is often the result of receiving information coming from my world through a series of faulty filters. Because of what we have been told about ourselves, some of us eventually come to believe that we are worthless or, at best, not worth very much. When people with low self-esteem make a mistake, for exam-ple, they suffer shame rather than embarrassment. Rather than learn from the error of their ways, they "beat themselves up" instead and insist that .they are bad people undeserving of any recognition or praise. We take our families with us when we come into religious life. Low Self-esteem a Threat to Effective Ministry Low self-esteem is a threat to effective ministry. Why? When our self-esteem is low, we begin to look to have our needs met by those we are called to serve. Eventually we need them more than they need us. When such a situation develops, we are no longer doing ministry. Rather, by our "serving" others we are promoting our own well-being, our own good feelings about ohrselve.s. Once again psychology can help us--towards enhanced self-esteem that is in the service of mission. Self-intimacy--a gift that often comes with mid-lifeS--helps us accept the particular and perhaps peculiar amalgam of bits and pieces that make up who we are. By mid-life we know full well that our motives for doing things in life are often mixed. Tha~: knowledge, in itself, helps keep us honest when it comes to ministry. Sammon ¯ PsycholoKv The Lord came for sinners and not the saved. At mid-life many of us feel more of a need to be redeemed than ever before. We have become distinctly aware of personal and social sin. But this self-understanding paradoxically enhances our self-esteem. This knowledge, in itself, helps keep us honest when it comes to ministry, helps us to carry out the Lord's mission free of illusion. Psychology and its principles can play an important role in this purification. Psychology Can Help In summary, then, psychology--used as one formative tool among many others--can be a friend to formators in religious congregations and institutes and an ally for mid-life and senior women and men religious in their ongoing formation. Today in particular it may help deepen our understanding about our com-mitment to celibate chastity, provide us with skills for greater effectiveness in ministry and a rich life in community, and help ~us grow in .greater self-awareness and self-acceptance in service of the mission of Jesus. If it does help a~complish these ends, that fact in itself will be a blessing beyond measure. Good psychology has more to do with self-transcendence than with self-fulfillment. It is not antithetical to the concept of sin, to admitting guilt, nor to penance and self-sacrifice. Rightly used, psychology leads to greater freedom of spirit and more effective ministry. Notes ~ Sefin D. Sammon, An Undivided Heart: Making Sense of Celibate Chastity (Staten Island, New York: Mba House, 1993). 2 A.W. Richard Sipe, A Secret World: Sexuality and the Search for CeJibacy (New York: Brunner/Mazel, Publishers, 1990). 3 Robert M. Bramson, Coping with Difficult People (Garden City, New York: Doubleday Anchor, 1981); Se~n D. Sammon, Don't Get Eaten for B~eakfast: Making Sense of the Impossible People in Your Life (forthcoming). 4 Rosine Hammett and Loughlan Sofield, Inside Christian Community (Jesuit Center for Human Development, 1981). s Se~n D. Sammon, Life afier Youth: Making Sen~se of One Man's~ourney through the Transition at Mid-life (Staten Island, New York: Alba House, 1997). Review for Religious ALEXANDER H. SMITH Mental-Health Consultation with Religious Orders Myental-health consultation has evolved over the past thirty ears in a specialty with a large body of literature on the process and technique, with diverse applications (Caplan and Caplan, 1993; R. Caplan, 1972; Altrocchi, 1972). Relatively few of these studies directly apply to religious orders, where their mem-bers have made lifelong commitments to membership and where the consultative process must be crafted to accommodate the unique features of religious life in a group setting. Mental-health consultation with a religious community requires a clarity of purpose at,times even more demanding than that in agency, school, or other ifistitutional setting. Within 'the community beats the heart of its spiritual tradition, one that pre-sumably drew its members, at least at a conscious level, to seek God and serve others. Beyond these oversimplified parameters, the climate of expected altruism and fraternal charity can paradoxically create the possibilities of boundary confusion, difficult limit set-ting, self-righteous entitlement, and exaggerated expectations of being understood and accommodated. Herein lie the often found tangle of inspired devotio0 and the all-too-easily-disillusioned psyche with its comple~es, hidden desires and aversions, power struggles, and longings. Not infrequently these very issues drive the community to seek assistance. Religious communities frequently experience a range of needs for outside help. The problems occur in group-level issues such Alexander H. Smith Jr., EdD, is a profession~il counseling psychologist. His address is 3150 Willis Avenue; Cincinnati, Ohio 45208. j~dy-August 1997 Smith * Mental-Health Consultation as conflict resolution, factioning, and decision making, They occur often to individuals as thorny personality conflicts and in groups as resistance to assimilating new tasks and letting go of old ones. Almost all communities have been faced with the problem of dwindling membership, including losses both of old timers and of new members who do not stay. Many communities are half the size they were thirty years ago, and few have found effective ways to integrate "then and now." Administrative talent varies across com-munities, and the management of the group according to its charism in this subculture of increased psYchological awareness is very challenging. Renewed individualism often stretches the best of minds to steer a course that supports the individual and the group as well. Most communities must cope with practical realities of day-to-day community life that become too hot to handle as a group. The community that approaches consultation in an informed way can realize more effective outcomes. The community's effort to make these course corrections with the consultant's assistance is best served when both the community and the consultant are familiar with what tO expect from each other. Such an informed recogni-tion of issues that are often unique to religious communities helps facilitate a more hopeful tone from inception to termination. The application~ of consultation to religious life appear to range from uninform~ed and sometimes naive "hacking" to highly competent psychological models that integrate diagnostic and intervention strategies from group process theory, models of con-sultation, knowledge of defense organization-in individuals and groups, and so on. This essay considers in very basic form these elements of effective consultation from the perspectives of both consultant and community in order to inform, to caution, and to encourage well-grounded principles and practices. What Type of Consultation Is Best for This Community? The consultant must help the community to select the appro-priate type of consultation. Caplan and Caplan (1993) have iden-tified four major ones: client-centered case consultation, consultee-centered case consultation, program-centered admin-istrative consultation, and consultee-centered administrative con-sultation. These me~hods differ in their targets of service delivery. Review for Religfous They were developed primarily for assisting other therapists work-ing with clinical populations, and they range across a spectrum of targets within a system from problems of an individual client to those of program development and organization. This model of reflective, "indirect" consultation differs substantially from that of organizational development where the focus is on team building, conflict resolution, and other modalities of more direct action methods (see Altrocchi). Two main types of consultation are probably most frequent for religious communities. These are consultation for individual cases where a mental-health issue has emerged, and administrative con-sultation where group-process difficulties need to be addressed. An adaptation of these principles to the :exigencies of life in religious communities is essential for both the consultant and for the com-munity. Usually there are crossing lines of communication, author-ity, and role functions, and the consultant must recognize that decision-making boundaries may be more fluid and that author-ity lines may vary from centralized to decentralized ones. More importantly, the nature of community life involves life commit-ments by its members to form and to maintain a group which supports its members' very livelihood. This reality requires that the consultant reconceptualize the consultation model as one which impacts not only service or "case management" in a work setting, but one which accommodates and supports the manifest structures .of a group whose very livelihood depends upon inter-personal competence and adherence to a task. The Alliance between the Consultant and the Community: Clarifying the Stated Purpose The initial phase of consultation includes the assessment of the community's tolerance for self-observation and for facing uncomfortable and at times painful issues. Some communities are more rigid than others. Some communities are more capable of examining attitudes, beliefs, and practices which interfere with accomplishing their stated aims. Some communities roll with the inevitable punches of difficult times and problematic personalities in a fairly relaxed way. Others struggle frequently, often appear-ing brittle and easily fragmented. The community's decision to seek consultation is rarely unan-imous; the events that lead up to the decision are themselves diag- ~dy-Aug'ust 1997 Smith ¯ Mental-Health Consultation The initial phase of consultation includes the assessment of the commumty s tolerance for self-observation and for facing uncomfortable and at times painful issues. ---.-390 nostic for the group and'for the consultant. The consultant who works with a religious order encounters a network of unique opportunities to assist individuals in a group. The consultant faces with the client community the same human foibles found in any organization. The! engagement with the community from its inception requires that the consultant maintain an integrity about the consultation. Often the initial request for consultation concerns unrecog-nized scapegoating. All group processes invariably include struggle with how to handle anger, disappoint-ment, and disavowed responsibility and therefore with the phenomenon of scapegoating. The process of scape-goating in religious life is surprisingly frequent. Historically it was often fos-silized in such matters as the status of lay brothers. A community's history with these major conflictual issues can be read ,off the contemporary problem foci, and the consultant can begin to read between the lines. For example, one community sought help about how to deal with a difficult member who was "conserva~ tive" and who would isolate himself from the rest of the communify, not participating in common prayer and work. The stated problem, of course, was to address the community's difficulty with its member. However, the com-munity had been chronically divided within itself about liturgical and dress practices. The community maintained the conflict for years by censuring any differentiation from the "new" majority norm. It had ironically created an authoritarian norm that resem-bled the very ones it prided itself for opposing in the larger cl~urch and had scapegoated "problem" members as they came through the ranks. The consultant initially should convey an acceptance of these problems as they are stated, while maintaining the accompanying desire to help the community in the most appropriate way possi-ble. The task here is to open the door to reasonable consideration of all the forces that define the problem as it appears to the com-munity and to be able to further negotiate the community's will- Review for Religious ingness to redefine it or "reframe" it in adaptive ways. In a way quite similar to (but by no means the same as) the initial stages of a psychotherapy, the consultant conveys a tolerance for the ambi-guity of the problem and seeks to draw the community into a more self-observing stance. Elaborating the Consultative Request The initial request usually stands as the consciously stated reason for help. Inevitably it includes a variety of unconsciously associated "agendas." The consultan~ recognizes these hidden forces that have coalesced to prompt the seeking of assistance and will respectfully inquire about them without attempting to inter-vene. They have a much longer life than the consciously stated one., The consultant for religious communities should maintain a particular ear for the historical context of these problem areas. Initially the community often challenges the consultant to do something impossible and then waits to see whether she or he is grandiose enough to try to tackle it. Questions like "Can you help us, deal with all the unspoken anger in this bunch?" need to be answered in a modest but respectfully humorous way: "Well. let me think a minute . . . what happened to the last guy who tried it?" After the ice is broken with the group's powerbrokers, the question can be restated in terms that can more easily be addressed, again hopefully with some humor: "Well . . . some-thing is getting in the way of people here being able to speak their piece., without getting sent ~to New Guinea . " The consultant takes these intangibles into account and for-mulates in clear language an agreement with the community about what consultation will be about, what it can and cannot accom-plish, when and how it will occur, when it will conclude, and what the sort of fee would be involved. The community should expect some response from the consultant that clearly formulates the current understanding of the problem.from perspectives of both community and consultant. Such a statement is usually best if it is,simple and colloquial and contains a potential for redefinition later on: You guys have really been struggling with this prob-lem about who lives with whom., and you're also saying you want to start closing out some parish work, that every-body is getting burned out., you really don't have to wait July-August 1997 Smitb * Mental-Healtb Consultation until the whole team is carried off the field before changing the game plan., let's see if it makes sense to meet a few times and see if there's some connection between these issues, how the community presently thinks about it and what would give the problem some fresh air . The initial phase is a get-acquainted one for both par-ties. The community needs time to size up the consultant and vice versa. The anxiety that accompanies a community's need for help can prompt it (and the consultant) into a pre-mature determination of type of consultation. The com-munity may be panicked about a growing tension between members or between subgroups and may demand quick results from the consultation. It is the height of folly for the consultant to rush in with psy-chological inventories or group-assessment devices. The religious in a community live there as well as work there. The consultant goes home. The context is different from industry, whei'e people at least have the escape of going home themselves in the evening. One community had be~n very reserved about seeking, con~ sultation. Careful assessment revealed that a previous consultant had come in for some "team building" and had required the com-munity to take a popular (but psychometrically compromised) test and then had proceeded to place the results on newsprint around the walls of the'community recreation room. No one would attend any further meetings; the community felt railroaded, overexposed, and very upset with the consultant. The consultant never stayed around long enough to get the feedback about how such cavalier interventions affected real people's lives. The community members' response to the proposed method is significant, for it often reflects attitudinal force and counterforce at work. For example, one community's s~uperior would not directly address the issue of the fee~ The consultant was told to contact the financial officer, an individual who was rather irrita-ble and demanding. The financial officer spoke to the consultant in a veiled condescending way, expressing dismay that the con-sultant even dare to charge a fee to a religious order. Such interactions in the initial phase reflect not only an anx-iety which the community cannot master, but also the manner by which it resolves it. Here the problem is manifested as anxiety about having adequate supplies and resources, whereas the uncon-scious fears seem to be around loss of control and authority. The community has designated someone who is rather difficult to con- Review for Religious trol the purse strings. The resolution is observed in the superior's being unable to address the financial issue directly and hiding behind the irritability of the financial officer. This kind of maneu-ver results in the superior coming across as a weak negotiator and never allowing the community to meet the financial issue head on. Some other forces are at work: the superior is set up as a "pup-pet" and the actual control resides in "old-timers" who are direct-ing the choice of leadership. The consultant's appearance on the scene is less than welcome, for they fear that the whole consultative process will undermine their "fiefdom." The community rarely lets the consultant in on the main difficulty all at once, especially in the beginning phase. The community has grappled with some issue for a long time; it has seen various personalities struggle with it with varying degrees of success. There have usually been fluctuations in leadership styles, in gov-ernance and decision-making processes, and in community responses to the changes. The texture of the com-munity's approach is often tied into its history and charism as well as to the current composition of

Issue 54.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ¯ \Vashington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This perlnission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional protnotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1995 ¯ VOLUME54 ¯ NUMBER2 contents 166 180 Jiving reJigious ife Come Follow Me: Reflections on Some Current Theories of Religious Life Elizabeth McDonough OP suggests that the healthiness of religious life is not so much a matter of reconciling consecration and mission as it is a matter of finding a consistency between the espoused and operative values of a congregation. The Fruits of Consultation: The 1994 Synod's Instrumentum Laboris Rose McDermott SSJ presents evidence for the effectiveness of the consultative process in the formulation of the 1994 synod's working document. 192 196 being church Ash Wednesday and Faith's Grounding Kevin Richter reflects on the meaning of Ash Wednesday as ushering us into a season in which we seek to realize ourselves as "holy ground." The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal Erik Riechers SAC sketches out four attitudes that we need to make our own as we continue our efforts at church renewal. from the tradition 207 Providence Revisited Robert P. Maloney CM examines the place of providence in the spirituality of St. Vincent de Paul and makes contemporary applications. 224 Beguine Women: Medieval Spirituality, Modern Implications Marygrace Peters OP considers the Beguines as they appear on the stage of history, their growth and demise, and their spiritual legacy. 237 Stirred to Profound Gratitude Gerald M. Fagin SJ develops the Ignatian insight on the importance of gratitude in a growing intimacy with God. 162 Review for Religious 253 261 growing in prayer Models of Faith Sharing Martin Pable OFMCap underlines the importance of faith sharing for community life and suggests some methods of keeping it lively. Progress in Prayer Francis J. Ring SJ reviews the stages of maturing in prayer from traditions and personal experience. 276 279 experience in the Jord Midlife Tumor Se~in Sammon FMS ponders the meaning of a serious medical diagnosis in the midst of a busy apostolic life. Our Friendship in the Lord A religious priest and a woman religious share their experience of deep friendship in the context of their commitment to God and to their religious community. 283 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1994 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv, collaborating with Eduardo C. Fernfindez sJ, presents a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 164 Prisms 301 Canonical Counsel: The Document on Community Life: Congregavit Nos in Unum Christi Amor 308 Book Reviews March-April 1995 163 pris s Shortly after I was appointed editor of Review for Religious in 1988, I spent time brows-ing through each issue of every volume from the journal's beginning in 1942 up to the current volume. What I dis-covered was an amazing chronicle of developments in reli-gious life and ministry over the past half century. The first article in the January 1942 was titled "Religious Consecration." Today it seems very contem-porary in view of the church's predilection for the term consecrated life in its new Code and in Roman documents during the 1980s and '90s. Spiritual direction was the theme most emphasized in the early 1940s, with some five articles and comments; the theme of vocations was sec-ond. Both topics receive even greater attention today. Psychological testing of candidates for religious life was taken up by articles in 1949 and into the early '50s. One religious superior wrote an indignant letter canceling his subscription, asserting that such testing interferes with the work of the Holy Spirit. A similar flurry of negative response came to the suggestion that religious should take time for vacations--a suggestion made in 1947. One reli-gious woman wrote strongly against this idea because Jesus, Mary, and the saints never had a vacation. As early as 1944 the first reflection about the adaptation of the religious habit for women was written, with subsequent articles through the 1950s, prompting a res~ponse by the canon lawyer Father Joseph Gallen SJ to the question "Why has Review for Religious emphasized so frequently the simplification of the habit of religious women?" His answer in 1957 was that we were trying to stir up some 164 Review for Religious response to the repeated calls from Pope Pius XII and various Roman curia congregations for change in the light of poverty, hygiene, and adaptation to our times. Although we seem to be in a different place, the topic still remains current. The first article written by a layman was in January 1962 (Vatican II began on 11 October 1962) and was entitled "Notes toward Lay Spirituality." In the next issue appears the first arti-cle by a laywoman, "Restoration with a Difference"--about a sec-ular institute in Washington, D.C. In 1969 we find the first of many articles on the guided or directed retreat. Almost twefity years ago, in 1976, the beginnings of the feminist emphasis are reflected in an article titled "Womanhood: A Selected Bibliography." From these few examples I hope that our readers can appre-ciate how challenges and developments have been recorded through the variety of articles and authors found in Review for Religious over the fifty years of its publication. The editorial staff and the advisory board now are inviting all our readers to an opportunity to enter into their own kind of survey of topics. We are publishing a new book, IND,; it provides a topical and author index for all the volumes of Review for Religious from 1942 through 1994. Since the world synod of bishops with its theme "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in 'the Church and in the World" was held in October 1994, it seems fitting to provide the unique perspective of our journal's articles over the past fifty years. INDEX will be a resource for current members of religious congregations and for candidates and novices in religious forma-tion programs. Historians and researchers and people fascinated by the phenomenon of religi6us life will find this book a valu-able tool. Our readers will find an advertisement and order form for INDEX on the last page of this issue. We hope that this book will bring us all to a greater appreciation of religious life in the church. David L. Fleming SJ March-April 1995 165 ELIZABETH McDONOUGH Come Follow Me: Reflections on Some Current Theories of Religious Life religious One among an array of recent church documents on religious life, Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation Redemptionis donum (1984) presents a theology of religious profession in the context of the economy of salvation. It points out that the gospel consistently invites a response beyond the fulfillment of minimal commands and encour-ages behaviors that reflect a redemptive and Christocentric commitment. From the perspective of Redemptionis donum, religious profession inclines a person to overcome the world not in a haphazard fashion, but specifically in the likeness of Jesus Christ (§9). Above all, RD sees the primacy of being as the anthro-pological basis for a gospel vocation. That is, RD empha-sizes being over producing, possessing, and controlling. This primacy of being should produce for religious a lifestyle centered on the true value of the human person. It should witness to the mystery of redemption in the face of the widespread materialism, violence, moral erosion, and human exploitation that the world labors under today (§4). The new and fuller consecration of religious profes-sion, rooted in the sacrament of baptism, means that a person is entirely and freely given to God in a "particular style of life, witness, and apostolate, in fidelity to the mis- Elizabeth McDonough OP adapted this article from the pre-sentation she made at the 2nd International Symposium of Law of Religious held at the Catholic University of Lublin, 17-18 October 1994. She is the canon law editor of our journal. Her address is P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. 166 Review for Religious sion of [an] institute and to its identity and spiritual heritage" (§7). Chastity should provide an eschatological witness that makes transcendent realities present in the midst of temporal concerns (§11). Poverty should be clearly salvific and enable religious to enrich people, beyond any material giving, by becoming through poverty "a source for bestowing gifts on others in the manner of God" (§12). Obedience should have the redemptive potential of furthering growth in holiness through a continuous search for and response to the will of God in a manner similar to the obe-dience of Christ, which "constitutes the essential nucleus of the work of the redemption" (§13). Religious put their gifts at the service of the church through their own community by sharing in the mission entrusted to it by the hierarchy. Within the religious family, community life demonstrates caring for one another and bearing one another's burdens as true disciples of Jesus. The fundamental value of reli-gious, however, always consists in who they are rather than in what they do (§15). In Redemptionis donum it is clear that the wit-ness of religious life is primarily that of leading the world towards the definitive fulfillment for which all of creation longs, a fulfill-ment that will ultimately be found in God alone (§14). Earlier documents of the magisterium present similar notions of religious life. Vatican II's.dogmatic constitution Lumen gen-tium states that "the religious state of life., manifests in a spe-cial way the transcendence of the kingdom of God and its requirements over all earthly things" (§44). LG sees the primary value of religious life not in terms of sign or witness or service, but rather in terms of the sanctifying and redemptive reality of reli-gious life as intrinsic to the life and holiness of the church itself.1 The conciliar document Christus Dominus is even more explicit. Regarding the obligation of religious "to work zealously and diligently for the building up and growth of the whole Mystical Body of Christ and for the good of the particular churches," CD states: "It is their duty to promote these objec-tives primarily by means of prayer, works of penance, and the example of their own lives" (§33). Perfectae caritatis, the Vatican II document specifically dealing with religious, presents the focus of religious life as seeking and loving God "above all else" because God "has first loved us." Religious are called to "foster a life hidden with Christ in God" as the "source and stimulus" of everything they do.2 March-April 199Y 167 McDonougb * Come Follow Me As regards religious profession's deepest meaning, the magisterium clearly highlights, in a noncontradictory way, consecration as more fundamental than mission, being as more fundamental than having, and witness as more fundamental than service. Mutuae relationes, issued in 1980 jointly by the Congregations for Bishops and for Religious and Secular Institutes, notes that both "religious and their communities are called to give clear tes-timony in the church of total dedication to God. This is the fun-damental option of their Christian existence and their primary duty in their distinctive way of life" (§14a, citing LG §31). The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life, issued in 1981, states that contemplation bears witness "to the primacy of the personal relationship with God" and is "the unifying act of all human movement towards God." It sees prayer as "the indispensable breath" of religious life and asks that all religious cultivate "an atti-tude of continuous and hum-ble adoration of .God's mysterious presence in people, events, and things" (§ 1). CDRL urges "integration between interiority and activity" and cautions that the "first duty" of all religious is "being with Christ" (§§2, 4, and 5). Religious and Human Pro-motion, also issued in 1981, states that motivation for apos-tolic involvement should be based on (a) fidelity to the original purpose of one's reli-gious institute in the church, (b) witness to the gospel regarding the dignity and pur-pose of work, (c) comlnitment to the religious (original emphasis) dimension of one's life as expressing a radical experience of the kingdom, and (d) sharing in the daily challenge of community as expressing Christ's love (§8). Thus the motivation for, the manner of, and the limits on apostolic activity of religious must always flow from and be cir-cumscribed by one's consecration to God and consequent service of the church in and through a particular religious family. 168 Review for Religious According to RHP, religious involve themselves in the workplace not primarily as certified professionals, but primarily as bearers of pastoral concern (§9). In summary fashion, the theology of religious life gleaned from these documents places dedication to service squarely in the context of the gift of self accepted by the church. Even more basi-cally, as regards religious profession's deepest meaning, the mag-isterium clearly highlights, in a noncontradictory way, consecration as more fundamental than mission, being as more fundamental than having, and witness as more fundamental than service. Thus, the public vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience are supposed to render each religious both more able and more willing to man-ifest, in a personal way, the primacy of consecration over produc-tion, of being over possession, and of witness over power in a world dominated by forces of production, possession, and power. Conciliar and postconciliar documents offer no firm founda-tion, then, for the notion that there is in religious life any inher-ent conflict between consecration and mission. It is suggested by some current authors, however, that primacy of consecration and being and witness falsely places consecration before mission and introduces a new version of the dichotomy between the contem-plative and the active life and between monastic and apostolic aspects of religious life as such. Some of these current opinions on religious life are noted briefly here. Various Current Concepts of Religious Life A recent analysis of religious life by Jesuit George Aschen-brenner concludes that it is basically apostolic with tendencies towards monastic or active expressions. He suggests that every person and group can be located on the continuum of "a long clothesline" to which God attaches them like "a clothespin., to some part of the line.''3 His theological reason for a universal apostolic spirituality with two manifestations seems fair enough: "In the sense of a serious commitment to and involvement with our world, every disciple of Jesus must be intensely apostolic" (p. 655). This is true. But Aschenbrenner proceeds to r~duce all Christian spirituality and indeed all religious life to either a "monastic apostolic dynamic" or an "active apostolic dynamic." His division is more than a little inadequate, as well as somewhat contrived and even pejorative. March-April 1995 169 McDonougb ¯ Come Follow Me In a rather negative comparison, Aschenbrenner presents the monastic dynamic as determined by formal prayer, as influenced by order and routine, as set apart from the world, as based on stability and solitude, and as centered on physical presence in community (pp. 657-660). In contrast he presents the apostolic dynamic as determined by ministry, as based on flexibility for change, as able to find and serve God in all activity, as being mobile and available, and as providing unity beyond mere phys-ical presence (pp. 660-664). In Aschenbrenner's view, active reli-gious life simply must be "demonasticized" for it to experience authentic renewal. Another current analysis, by Brazilian Jesuit Marcello Azevedo, says that the distinctive character of religious life is "not the vocation to holiness (common to all Christians), but the pub-lic profession--recognized, legitimized, and appreciated by the church-- of the will to live fully and radically the gospel plan, coherently aria as the primary objective of one's life" (original emphasis).4 Thus its qualitative character identifies and justifies a religious vocation among many vocations in the church. At first, this qualitative emphasis seems similar to the view of Redemptionis donum. But, Azevedo notes, if religious life is deter-mined by this specifically qualitative identity, then no particular activity and no specific style of action, as such, can ever deter-mine religious life. The logical consequence, in practice, is that "every form of activity within the church and the world has always been, and should always be, open to religious" (p. 9). Thus Azevedo views religious life as currently "snarled and blocked" by a "juridical apparatus" that should not apply to its prophetic and charismatic nature in the first place. Indeed, from his perspective, the assertion of Lumen gentium that consecrated life does not belong to the hierarchical struc-ture of the church is understood to mean that religious life is dis-tinguished primarily by its own internal consistency (p. 9). In his subsequent analysis, Azevedo presents all religious life in terms of a single and particular internal consistency, namely, an orientation toward mission similar to Aschenbrenner's encompassing apos-tolic dynamic. Even the understanding of obedience as exercised in the apostolic organization of the Jesuits is considered equally applicable to all religious institutes, including monastics (pp. 80 and 88-89, n. 4). In a thoroughly pragmatic approach, Christian Brother Louis 170 Review for Religious DeThomasis analyzes religious life from a business perspective. Everything, he says, is achieved through management; and every-thing in religious life, from performance to purpose to resources, should be transformed to his "alternative paradigms" suggested by a successful business. In these transformed paradigms, community members are considered "stakeholders," rituals are rendered effec-tive in "social justice," and divine providence is replaced by "human potential.''s The church, according to DeThomasis, is basically a safety net to "help the people of God deal with the fundamental issues of their lives" and to "help them climb the hierarchy of needs toward self-actualization" (pp. 71 and 84). In religious life, as in any profit-oriented, capitalistic system, the "client. defines the relationship between those who are served and the religious who . . . provide needed services" (p. 41). In theory these ideas of DeThomasis may sound quite pagan. In fact, they are amazingly popular today in some religious circles. Another author, Australian Marist Gerald Arbuclde, writes extensively on the topic of "refounding" religious life and pre-. sents a totally anthropological concept of it.6 Refounding by prophetic persons is needed, he says, because in recent centuries religious life became based on assumptions contrary to its origi-nal vision. These contrary assumptions are a view of the world as evil, a sense of spiritual elitism, and uncritical support of the ecclesiastical status quo.7 ' According to Arbuckle (Out of Chaos, p. 48), religious life actually originates in "liminality." That is, it arises from an intrin-sically unstable state requiring one to embrace meaninglessness or chaos for the sake of expanded possibilities. Answers to the chaos engendered in the aftermath of Vatican II are to be found in (a) rediscovery of the power of Christ within, (b) renewed vitality identified with the power of the founding myth, (c) renewed fresh-ness of the role of religious life in the forefront of creativity, and (d) responding to the spiritual or pastoral needs of people (pp. 93-94). Arbuckle describes the current reaction of religious com-munities to the challenge of refounding in terms of "prophetic" or "escapist" tribal models borrowed from anthropology. In the prophetic model, which Arbuckle clearly favors, Christ's mission has priority over survival of the community ("Prophecy," p. 336). True, of course. Any role, however, for consecration in relation to religious life is notably absent in his analysis. Both his starting point and his ending are purely human realities. March-April 1995 171 McDonougb ¯ Come Follolv Me Irish Sacred Heart Father Diarmuid O'Murchu uses Arbuckle's ideas of liminality and refounding. O'Murchu presents religious life as a purely liminal and prophetic movement that belongs, not to thechurch, but to the world. His definition of vowed life is so global, so inclusive, so psychological, and so the-ologically different that it warrants direct quotation: "The vowed life is a creation of the collective unconscious; it is a dimension of the liminal space that human beings have invented and continue to create in order to express and articulate their deepest aspira-tions.'' 8 One might suggest that, if this did not so closely resem-ble the thought of certain Enlightenment philosophers and theologians, it could be considered the well-intentioned asser-tion of an enthusiastic adolescent coping for the first time with an experience of God. The purpose O'Murchu sees for religious life, however, is anything but naive or adolescent. His position is quite political in combining aspects of liberation theology with liminality. The task of religious, for O'Murchu, is that of being "change agents" and "social catalysts." These roles will be fostered, he says, once reli-gious (1) recognize the inadequacy of the mildly revised 13th-century theology offered by Vatican Council II and (2) replace "intellectually and spiritually naive" theories of the development of religious life with a theology based on experience (pp. 54 and 59). O'Murchu reduces celibacy to intimacy, reduces obedience to listening, reduces poverty to sharing, reduces community to rela-tionships, and reduces prayer to a source of social activity. Perhaps not surprisingly, he also reduces Jesus Christ to a very minor role in religious life and to an incidental foundation for his thoughts. A highly detailed and significant sociological analysis of reli-gious life in the United States has recently been published by Vincentian Father David Nygren and St. Joseph Sister Miriam Ukeritis. This is commonly known as the FORUS study, from the acronym for its complete title: The Future of Religiorts Orders in the United States. The study was conducted from 1989 through 1992 and was funded by an independent research foundation. It had initial and ongoing cooperation from the then existing con-ferences of major superiors, and it included congregations rep-resenting over 125,000 men and women religious.9 Reference to the FORUS study is not intended to present reli-gious life in the United States as normative for religious life else-where in the world. It is to recognize, however, that religious in 172 Review for Religious the United States can have a certain influence on the views of many religious elsewhere, especially in the English-speaking world. The FORUS study explicitly identifies and directly chal-lenges some of the prevailing opinions espoused by both men and women religious in America regarding the trends and conse-quences of renewal since Vatican Council II. Indeed, its findings challenge some of the perceptions of religious life presented by authors mentioned above. The FORUS study admits that the degree of change for religious in the United States has been dras-tic since Vatican II. It acknowledges that many of the effects of post-conciliar renewal may not be within what was originally intended (p. 225). In keeping with a recent trend in analyzing religious life, the study employs paradigms--descrip-tive sociological models--to explain various observable phenomena related to renewal.1° Its final rec-ommendations rather bluntly sug-gest that the present task for religious is primarily to "demon-strate credible witness with little discrepancy between what they espouse and how they act" (p. 239). The FORUS study indicates that most religious communities have been in a multifaceted "interpretive" paradigm for about a quarter century. This means that there are subjective and com-peting worldviews espoused by groups within most communities and that these groups more or less vie with each other for a pro-portionate share of community resources and for proportionate control of decision-making authority. Now, however, according to Nygren and Ukeritis, communities are moving in the direction of one or another of two basic orientations.~ The FORUS study refers to these two basic orientations by the technical sociologi-cal terms "functionalist" and "structuralist" paradigms. In rela-tion to religious life, it may be more helpful to refer to these respective orientations as traditional and progressive, without, The FORUS study explicitly identifies and directly challenges some of the prevailing opinions espoused by both men and women religious in America regarding the trends and consequences of renewal since Vatican Council II. March-April 1995 173 McDonougb * Come Follow Me however, attaching positive or negative connotations to these descriptive labels. Communities which are tending toward the traditional ori-entation for religious institutes (or toward the "functionalist" paradigm, in sociological terms) seek an ordered and rather reg-ulated environment based on a single identity that is manifest through work or attire or clear membership boundaries or all of these aspects. These communities use incremental-change mech-anisms and operate on the basis of a product economy. That is, they identify perduring needs as worthy of ministry in keeping with their charism. They tend to establish institutions, or gradu-ally adapt already existing ones, in order to meet these perduring needs. They prepare vowed members for ministry as qualified personnel within or in relation to these institutions, which in turn both support and express various aspects of their charism. The FORUS study suggests that communities such as the Little Sisters of the Poor, Benedictine monks, and the Daughters of Charity are in this functionalist (that is, traditional) orientation that favors convergen.ce in ministry and lifestyle along with continuous incre-mental change (p. 227). Communities that are tending toward the progressive orien-tation for religious institutes (or toward the "structuralist" paradigm, in sociological terms) assume that there is a need to overcome, through empowerment of the oppressed for social change, the organizational domination exercised by certain seg-ments of society. These communities use dramatic reorientation programs and operate on the basis of a market economy. That is, they respond to prevailing needs in various locations as express-ing individual but interdependent manifestations of their charism. They tend to avoid institutional commitments, both in what may formerly have been their own institutions and in related institu-tional settings. They foster broad-based and open-ended min-istry preparation and individual apostolic placement, which in turn often require major internal readjustment and new expres-sions of various aspects of their charism. The FORUS study sug-gests that communities such as the Sisters of Loretto, the Sisters of St. Joseph, and the Alexian Brothers are in this structuralist (that is, progressive) orientation that favors radical and somewhat discontinuous reorganization of ministries and lifestyles (p. 228). More significant, however, are findings of the FORUS study that stem from and relate to the different orientations just 174 Review for Religious described. The data indicates that most members of most reli-gious orders in the United States have simply ass~med that a prod-uct- oriented approach of continuous incremental change for religious life is inadequate for meeting contemporary needs. At the same time, they have simply assumed that a market-oriented approach involving major reorganization will be efficacious for religious life as it enters the third millennium. In other words, to use more common parlance, there is a certain fore-gone conclusion that the for-mer structures and functions of religious life are simply out-dated and inadequate for meet-ing needs in the world of today and that only new structures and functions will guarantee a future for religious life (p. 229). Other findings of the study, however, indicate that efforts at radical reorganization in pro-gressive communities have often failed. They have simply been eclipsed by internal con-cerns about financial limita-tions, loss of institutions, decreased personnel, aging membership, and diversified ¯ ministries. In contrast, FORUS findings show that efforts at convergent, incremental change in traditional communities have often been successful. They have sustained a pattern of serving the poor with integrated services delivered from a context of distinct purpose, centralized govern-ment, characteristic ministry, external identification, and com-mon practices. It should also be noted that FORUS places current feminist agendas in the structuralist (that is, progressive) orien-tation and identifies two conferences of major superiors in America as openly advocating this orientation.12 Note the striking correlation between the predominant struc-turalist (that is, progressive) orientation identified in the FORUS study and much of the prevailing literature on religious life.13 Most members of most religious orders in the United States have simply assumed that a product-oriented approach of continuous incremental change for religious life is inadequate for meeting contemporary needs. March-April 1995 175 McDonough * Come Follow Me As has been seen, Azevedo suggests that any and every form of activity should be open to religious so long as their way of life manifests an "inner consistency." In the same vein, Mercy Sister Doris Gottemoeller, immediate past present of LCWR and audi-tor at the 1994 Synod of Bishops, recently defined religious life as being constituted entirely by fidelity to a self-defined and self-chosen inner consistency. DeThomasis advocates imaginative transformation to alternative paradigms so that religious life will have meaning in the 21st century. Arbuckle urges abandoning outdated structures in favor of total refounding in the chaotic aftermath of Vatican II. O'Murchu presents the task of religious as fostering social change emerging from their liminal experi-ence. The theory of prophetic liminality is completely adopted by Sister Anne Munley IHM in a study commissioned by LCWR which appeared immediately after the publication of the FORUS study and countered many of its findings. Munley obviously advo-cates the progressive orientation as identified by Nygren and Ukeritis and cautions against the "entrenchment" of previous forms of religious life; she promotes an "emerging paradigm" for the future and wants to see religious "breaking free from stag-nant relationships based on dominance and subordination." ,4 Regardless of the prevailing literature, however, the FORUS study articulates one transparent conclusion as valid for all reli-gious communities, whether their orientation is towards a struc-turalist (progressive) or a functionalist (traditional) paradigm. In sociological terms, that conclusion makes an explicit correlation between an institute's tradition and its response to the social and ecclesial environment. According to the FORUS conclusion, directed specifically to apostolic institutes, "those that are most responsive to pressing need and motivated by the love of Christ will be vitalized as long as their efforts are consistent with their tradition . Their purpose must be clear and their efforts to achieve, unencumbered . Until the external perception of apos-tolic religious orders is congruent with their self-definitions (that is, until they do what they profess), their membership is likely to remain limited in numbers and their social credibility will be threatened" (p, 2 3 5). Let me repeat the key elements of this conclusion: respon-siveness to pressing need; motivation deriving from the love of Christ; consistency with an institute's tradition; clarity of purpose; unencumbered efforts; and actions that match the institute's message. 176 Review for Religious In terms of the vowed life, the elements of this conclusion are closely related to the primacy of consecration, of being, and of witness as presented in the theology of the magisterium con-cerning religious life. This FORUS conclusion also touches the heart of the matter regarding real or apparent conflicts between consecration and mission in religious life. The FORUS findings are clear that, whatever may be the work of religious in the world, it is far less significant than their credibility in the world's eyes and that this credibility will always be threatened "until they do what they profess." So say the sociologists on the basis of data gathered from a study representing over 125,000 men and women religious in the United States of America. Points of Contact and Comparison Recall that in Redemptionis donum religious are called both to embrace the will of God totally and to overcome the world in the likeness of Jesus Christ (§9). Recall, too, that Religious and Human Promotion sees all religious life as being apostolic in response to the world. In parallel fashion, The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life presents all religious life as being contemplative in response to God. That is to say, there is no such thing as authentic activity for religious which is not fully informed by prayer, and there is no such thing as authentic life for religious themselves which is not thoroughly grounded in contemplation. Further, for practical situations, Religious and Human Promotion identifies four criteria--"four loyalties"--for the activity of all religious in bringing the gospel to bear on their response to authentic human need. These cri'teria are (1) fidelity to human-ity and to our times, (2) fidelity to Christ and to the gospel, (3) fidelity to the church and to its mission in the world, and (4) fidelity to religious life and to the charism of one's institute (§13). Documents of the magisterium concerning consecrated life, then, do not so much impose specific behaviors on religious as invite wholehearted and faithful responses from them. The FORUS conclusion mentioned above presents a very similar posi-tion, namely, that religious communities will survive and even thrive when they exhibit responsiveness to pressing need, moti-vation from the love of Christ, consistency with their tradition, clarity of purpose, unencumbered efforts, and actions that match March-April 1995 177 McDonougb ¯ Come Follow Me their message. The FORUS study identifies as necessary a recog-nizable consistency between the espoused and operative values of religious if they are to be credible witnesses in the world. Church documents call religious to this same consistency and witness. In contrast to some current theories of religious life, then, perhaps it is not so much a matter of reconciling consecration and mission--or even a matter of producing new theologies and new forms of religious life--as it is a matter of finding a proper balance and expression of the obligations religious have already embraced. Religious are not called upon either by the world or by the church to be anything other than who and what they are. Indeed, they are called upon to be precisely who and what they are, and they are called upon to do so precisely in the lived real-ivy of what they have professed. Notes ~ P. Molinari and P. Gumpel, Chapter VI of the Dogmatic Constitution "Lumen Gentium" on Religious Life, trans. M.P. Ewen (Rome: Gregorian University, 1987), pp. 154-163. 2 Perfectae caritatis §6. This emphasis for religious should not be a surprise, however, because Ad gentes §11 presents the witness of all Christians primarily as in their lives, not in their works. Good works, though, do flow from true Christian life: "All Christians by the example of their lives and the witness of the word, wherever they live, have an obliga-tion to manifest the 'new man' which they put on in baptism, and to reveal the power of the Holy Spirit by whom they were strengthened at confirmation" (emphasis added). 3 G. Aschenbrenner, "Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles," Review for Religious 45, no. 5 (September-October 1986): 653-668, at 656. 4 M. Azevedo, Vocation for Mission (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 8. s L. DeThomasis, Imaginations: A Future for Religious Life 0Ninona, Minnesota: Metanoia Group, 1992), p. 129. 6 G. Arbuckle, Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (New York: Paulist Press, 1988). 7 Arbuckle, pp. 68-77. See also Arbuckle's article "Prophecy or Restorationism in Religious Life," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May- June 1993): 326-339. 8 D. O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1991), p. 48. 9 D. Nygren and M. Ukeritis, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States (Westport, Connecticut: Praeger Publishers, 1993). Hereafter 178 Review for Religious cited as FORUS. An earlier, shorter version entitled "The Religious Life Futures Project: Executive Summary" appeared as the entire edition of Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992), and was published shortly there-after in Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55. l0 An influential article among Americans regarding paradigm shifts was the historical and sociological analysis of Marianist Brothers L. Cada and R. Fitz, "The Recovery of Religious Life," Review for Religious 34, no. 5 (September-October 1975): 690-718. This article was later expanded into a book, Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (New York: Seabury Press, 1979). Fitz and Cada rely heavily on, but do not cite, the work of R. Hostie, Vie et mort des ordres religieux (Paris: Desclde, 1972). The paradigm-shift theory can be traced to T. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1970). For a critique of the application of paradigm shifts to religious life, see E. McDonough, "The Past Is Prologue: Quid Agis?" in Review for Religious 51, no. 1 (1992): 78-97, especially 90-93. " Characteristics of these orientations are treated in summary form in FORUS, pp. 226-230, and in more detail in chap. 1 of the study, pp. 2- 15. ,2 See FORUS, pp. 226 and 229, respectively. The latter may be a sig-nificant finding since both the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM) and the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) were directly involved in the three-year FORUS survey and had repre-sentatives on the FORUS advisory board. That is to say, the FORUS study seems to have identified a role exercised by CMSM and LCWR somewhat beyond that which is envisioned for such conferences by Vatican II and in church law: See Perfectae caritatis §42-§43;Mutuae relationes §21; and CIC, canon 708. ,3 On the other hand, there are some works supporting the function-alist or traditional orientation of the FORUS study. Research by Immaculate Heart of Mary Sister Eleace King supports the ability of tra-ditional communities to attract and keep new members. See her intro-ductory sections to the CARA Formation Directory (Washington, D.C.: Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate) for the years 1991, 1992, 1993, and 1994-1995. Albert DiIanni, vicar general of the Marist Fathers from 1985 to 1993, has written a series of articles whose content lends objective support to the functionalist (or traditional) orientation. These cover such topics as the influence of modernity on religious vows, God as the proper object of religion, and the significance of current vocation trends. These articles have recently been collected and published in A. Dilanni, Religious Life as Adventure: Renewal, Refounding, or Refo~wt? (New York: Alba House, 1994). See also, E. McDonough, "Juridical Deconstruction of Religious Institutes," Studia Canonica 26 (1992): 307- 341, and "Charisms and Religious Life," Review for Religious 52, no. 5 (September-October 1993): 648-659. ,4 A. Munley, Threads for the Loom: LCFVR Planning and Ministry Studies (Silver Spring, Maryland: LCWR, 1992), pp. 1, 11, and 12. March-April 199~ 179 ROSE McDERMOTT The Fruits of Consultation: The 1994 Synod's Instrumentum Laboris During most of October 1994, bishops and other partici-pants of the ninth ordinary session of the Synod of Bishops discussed "Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." The remote preparation for this assembly was the Lineamenta issued 20 November 1992, in which twenty-five questions on the topic of consecrated life were addressed to the worldwide church by the Vatican Synod Secretariat.~ Following this consultation, the same secretariat released the Instrurnentum laboris or working paper for the synod on 20 June 1994.2 This is the text that guided the synod's participants in their discussions on consecrated life. The purpose of this article is to note some of the Instru-menturn's significant revisions (vis-a-vis the Lineamenta) that resulted from the worldwide consultation. An overview of the format of the Instrumenturn and some observations on the revisions in comparison with the Lineamenta will show the positive results effected by the consultative process, which engaged the entire ecclesial community. The Format of the Instrumentum Laboris The Instrumentum laboris, composed of 111 paragraphs and 268 endnotes, is significantly longer than the Lineamenta, which Rose McDermott SSJ is a faculty member of the Department of Canon Law at the Catholic University of America. Her address is Holy Trinity Convent; 1554 35th Street N.W.; Washington, D.C. 20007. 180 Review for Religious contained 47 paragraphs and 130 endnotes. Like the Lineamenta, the working paper has an introduction and a conclusion; how-ever, the Instrumentum is divided into four parts, in contrast to the Lineamenta's three. The length of the Instrumentum can be attributed to the discussion, in part 2 (§§41-65), of consecrated life within the context of the mystery of Christ and the church and the expansion, in part 4 (§§86-110), of the section on the role of con-secrated life in the mission of the church. These two sections of the Instrumenturn are the more significant revisions and improve-ments of part 1, section 1 (§§5-13), and part 3, section 2 (§§42- 44), of the Lineamenta. The Lineamenta began with a presentation of the nature and identity of consecrated life, moved on to a reflection on its wit-ness and activity in the church and world today, and concluded with a hope for the future role of consecrated life in the mission of the church. The Instrumentum, on the other hand, begins with an examination of the spiritual and pastoral characteristics of con-secrated life today, moves to a theological presentation of this vocation within the mystery of Christ and the ecclesial commu-nity, and concludes with a challenge to consecrated life in the church's mission to the world. This format enables the reader to focus on the present reality of consecrated life, reflect on its the-ological foundations, and have hope for its future in the life and mission of the church. The format, moreover, precludes the seem-ing dichotomy of the church and world reflected in the format of the Lineamenta. Significant Revisions in the Instrumentum Laboris The Instrumentum's Introduction. A Stance of Listening The introduction to the Lineamenta (§§1-4) explained .the for-mat of the synod, gave a rationale for choosing the topic of con-secrated life, and recalled the magisterium's conciliar and postconciliar teachings on consecrated life. The purpose of the Lineamenta was to present the essential elements of consecrated life as a guide for all those responding to the invitation to engage in the consultation. The introduction to the Instrumentum (§§1-7), however, places the synodal fathers in a listening stance before the thoughts and experiences of the rest of the Christian faithful at this moment in the history of salvation. It stresses the importance of the partic- March-April 1995 181 McDermott ¯ The Fruits of Consultation ipation of the entire church membership in this ecclesial event (§1). It gratefully acknowledges the tremendous outpouring of responses to the twenty-five questions posed by the Lineamenta and manifests respect for the differing points of view expressed by the respondents (§3). It acknowledges that the respondents have pointed to the complexity of the topic at hand and that sensitiv-ity is needed in addressing such diversity (§4). It takes note that various respondents have different experiential perspectives on consecrated life today. Some recognize it as a time of transfor-mation or profound change, while others see it as a time of renewal, revitalization, and refoundation (§4). Finally, the intro-duction explains the meaning and limits of the term "consecrated life" within the context of the lnstrumentum and the synod itself (~95-6). This was a noted lacuna in the Lineamenta.3 The Instrumentum's Part 1. Consecrated Life Today Part 2 of the Lineamenta, "Consecrated Life in the Church and the World of Today" (9925-33), recognized the profound societal and ecclesial changes that affect consecrated life. After describing a number of positive results of the efforts at renewal and adaptation made by institutes of consecrated life and by their individual members (9926-27), the Lineamenta enumerated vari-ous negative experiences and problems. The bishops gathered at the synod would assist consecrated persons in the continuing renewal prompted by the Second Vatican Council (928). This section seemed to judge members and institutes of consecrated life on their inability to meet successfully all of the challenges experienced in society and the church over the past thirty years. Part 1 of the Instrumentum laboris, "Consecrated Life Today" (998-40), celebrates the wide variety and different forms of con-secrated life. Several responses recommended that the distinc-tive charism of each institute is the key to interpreting the whole of consecrated persons' experience: their living of the counsels, spirituality, apostolate, communal life, formation, and organiza-tion (911). This input of the respondents pointed to the com-plexity and sensitivity of the topic which the synod's participants had to address. Likewise, unlike the Lineamenta, the Instrumentum offers a profile of men and women in consecrated life today. Those who critiqued the Lineamenta called attention to this sig-nificant lacuna.4 Women represent 72.5 percent of the member-ship of institutes of consecrated life, while 82.2 percent are laypersons (98). Knowledge of the various charisms or spiritual 182 Review.for Religious traditions and attentiveness to the experiences and voices of women and nonclerical male religious are important considera-tions for the synod. Unlike the Lineamenta, the Instrl~mentum does not make judg-ments on the achievements and failures of consecrated life during its period of renewal and adaptation. Rather, it reviews for the benefit of the entire church the profound changes that have affected the living of the evan-gelical counsels and the perma-nent commitment of those responding to the vocation to follow the poor, chaste, and obedient Christ (§§14-17). It recognizes and commends the heroic efforts made by institutes and members to renew and adapt in accord with the exhor-tations of the Second Vatican Council and their own charisms. Likewise, the text acknowledges the enormous challenges encountered today in living out the. commitment to consecrated life (§ 18). In objectively pointing to the difficulties encountered by persons professing the evangel-ical counsels, the Instrumentum is far more supportive and less judgmental than the Lineamenta. The Instrumentum seems to enter into dialogue with consecrated persons, rather than judge the ability of institutes and members to address these societal and ecclesial challenges (§§23-26). The responses to the Lineamenta hoped that synod would encourage a continuation on the path indicated by the Second Vatican Council. This confirmation in the Instrumentum is welcomed by many who were discouraged by the negative judgments made in the Lineamenta. The great transi-tions that consecrated life is experiencing today cannot be exam-ined apart from the obedient response of these institutes and their members to the conciliar mandate to renew and adapt (§ 14).5 Several responses recommended that the distinctive charism of each institute is the key to interpreting the whole of consecrated persons' experience: their living of the counsels, spirituality, apostolate, communal life, formation, and organization. March-dpril 1~95 183 McDermott ¯ The Fruits of Consultation The mystery of Christ and the church is foundational for those professing the evangelical counsels. A vocation to consecrated life is rooted in Christ and one's baptismal consecration. The Instrumentum's Part 2. Consecrated Life in the Mystery of Christ and the Church Part 1, section 1, of the Lineamenta discussed "The Nature and Identity of the Consecrated Life" (§§5-13). Unfortunately, this section attempted to explain the fundamental elements of consecrated life without rooting the vocation in the mystery of Christ and the church. This regrettable lacuna was noted in the consultation process.6 The Second Vatican Council (LG §46) taught that consecrated life has its roots in the mystery of Christ and the gospel. Likewise, while conse-crated life does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the church, it belongs undeniably to her life and holiness (LG §44). Part 2 of the lnstrumentum laboris, "Consecrated Life in the Mystery of Christ and the Church" (§§41-65), seeks to remedy this omission; the entire part is a wel-come and significant expansion of part 1, section 1, of the Lineamenta. The first six para-graph~ (§§41-46) describe conse-crated life as a gift of the Holy Spirit to the church and root it firmly within the sacramental and charismatic dimension of the church. The vocation.is a call to an intense following of the life and teachings of Christ as reflected in the gospel. A noteworthy quotation from Mystici Corporis sub-stantiates the importance of the living of the evangelical coun-sels in a variety of institutes in the ecclesial community: "When she embraces the evangelical counsels, the church reproduces in herself the poverty, obedience, and virginity of the Redeemer. Through the multiple and diverse institutions adorning her like so many jewels, in a certain sense she shows forth Christ in con-templation on the mountain, preaching to the people, healing the sick and wounded, calling sinners back to the right way, and doing good to all" (§43). 184 Review for Religious This explanation by Pope Plus XII of the ecclesial meaning of the charisms is well known and often quoted; it was incorporated into Lumen gentium ~46 and canon 577 of the Latin Code of Canon Law. In employing this text, the Instrumentum describes the priestly, prophetic, and kingly mission of those called to conse-crated life. The mystery of Christ and the church is foundational for those professing the evangelical counsels. A vocation to con-secrated life is rooted in Christ and one's baptismal consecration. Consecrated life is gift of the Holy Spirit to the church, as the church is gift of the Father to the world.7 The Instrumentum's Part 3. Consecrated Life in Ecclesial Communion Part 3, section 1, of the Lineamenta, "Consecrated Life in the Church Communion" (§§34-41), presented the relations of insti-tutes and members of consecrated life with the hierarchy from a rather rigid authoritarian perspective. It seemed to overlook what had been requested of the bishops and members of consecrated life in Mutuae relationes.8 Words and phrases such as "submisSion," "subjection," and "total and ready acceptance of directives" lacked the collaborative and cooperative qualities encouraged between bishops and religious in the document on mutual relations (§36). While the Lineamenta encouraged clerical religious to become involved in the presbyteral council, there was little mention of the specific roles or participation of other members of institutes of consecrated life in the mission of the particular churches (§39). Entities such as conferences, councils, and unions of major superiors were to enter into dialogue with the hierarqhy, but there was no indication in the Lineamenta of a corresponding episcopal responsibility for such cooperation (§38). Likewise, no mention was made of the many efforts of both bishops and major superi-ors at national and diocesan levels to enter into more collabora-tive relationships for the sake of the church's mission. Part 3 of the Instrumentum, "Consecrated Life in Ecclesial Communion," remedies these flaws and omissions in the Lineamenta. It describes the relationship of consecrated life to the universal and the local church. This section is perhaps the most reworked part of the Lineamenta. Twenty paragraphs (§§66- 85) revise and expand the same topic discussed in the eight para-graphs of part 3 of the Lineamenta (§§34-41). Part 3, section 1, explains ecclesial communion as sacra-mental, hierarchical, and charismatic (§67). All are called to par- March-April 1995 185 McDermott ¯ The Fruits of Consultation ticipate in the mission of the church--lay people, clerics, and those professing the evangelical counsels. This section explains the living of the evangelical counsels as a participation in the priestly, prophetic, and kingly offices (munera) of Christ (§71). The communion of the institutes and their members with the universal church is recognized and lived through the particular churches' witness to and participation in Christ's three munera (§§72-73). The lnstrumentum acknowledges the efforts of bishops and those consecrated by the profession of the counsels to build authentic relations through communication and collaboration among themselves and with the other clergy and the laity (§§73- 74). Noticeably absent are the harsh mandates to "subjection, "total and ready acce.ptance of directives," and "submission to the authority of bishops" expressed in the Lineamenta. Instead, there is an emphasis on the positive results of dialogue, mutual rela-tions, collaboration, and cooperation. The bishops are called to their serious responsibility of appreciating consecrated life and receiving the service of consecrated persons for the pastoral needs of the particular churcl~ (§75). . The lnstrumentum's Part 4. Consecrated Life in the Church's Mission In part 3, section 2, "Consecrated Life in Church Mission" (§§42-44), the Lineamenta called those in consecrated life to par-ticipation in the new evangelization through the witness and proclamation of the gospel. The spiritual and apostolic legacy of institutes of consecrated life, particularly those dedicated to mis-sionary activity, can contribute immeasurably to the remaking of the Christian fabric and the promotion of the unity of all the bap-tized (§43). This section called those committed to living the gospel to accept the responsibility of making it known in today's world (§42). Consecrated persons are called to undertake the new evan-gelization by manifesting the charity of Christ in many ways: to the young, to the poor, in schools, in the promotion of culture, in fostering peace and justice (§44). While this section of the Lineamenta was certainly positive in restating traditional aposto-lates, it seemed to lack a description of the creative response required of institutes of consecrated life and their members to meet the challenges inherent in addressing the felt needs of God's people in today's world. 186 Review for Religious Part 4 of the Instrumentum, "Consecrated Life in the Church's Mission" (§§86-110), significantly expands part 3, section 2, of the Lineamenta. There are twenty-five paragraphs in the Instrumentum in comparison with the three paragraphs of the Lineamenta. This part 4 of the Instrumentum looks to the future responsibilities of members and institutes of consecrated life in the mission of the church. These new challenges will require a renewal in spiri-tual and apostolic vitality (§§86- 87). There is a strong appeal for the fostering of vocations to all forms of consecrated life (§89). Institutes of consecrated life are obliged to provide an intense formation for those accepting the vocation to a life conse-crated by the counsels. Great emphasis is placed on the min-istry of formation, the forma-tion of formators, and the formation required in address-ing the new demands of conse-crated life (§§91-92). Considerable attention is devoted to women, who consti-tute three-fourths of the mem-bers of consecrated life. These women require a formation that is at once thorough, integral, and dynamic in preparation for their significant contribution to the mission of the church. Admittedly, women are still far from full engagement in the church~ their ecclesial role must be clari-fied and officially recognized (§88). Two paragraphs of this section are devoted to the importance of inculturation for the effectiveness of consecrated life in the church's mission. One of the greatest future challenges of institutes of consecrated life is to express themselves in diverse cultures. This is a complex reality that demands knowledge of the civi-lization, tradition, language, and customs of a people and accep-tance of individual persons (§§93-94). Consecrated life has a special role in the new evangelization, since its members represent Christ in responding to the demands The bishops are called to their serious responsibility of appreciating consecrated life and receiving the service of consecrated persons for the pastoral needs of the particular church. March-April 1995 187 McDermott ¯ The Fruits of Cons~dtation Called first to conversion or self-evangelization, consecrated men and women can transform and humanize society through the witness of their lives and the charisms or gifts they have received. of the beatitudes. Called first to conversion or self-evangeliza-tion, consecrated men and women can transform and humanize society through the witness of their lives and the charisms or gifts they have received (§95). They are called to examine traditional apostolates and to extend themselves in new endeavors: ecu-menism, interreligious dialogue (particularly with the Jews), and working more closely with asso-ciates and lay people. Special mention is given to apostolic endeavors directed towards the poor, the sick and suffering, youth, family life, the further-ance of peace and justice, and the promotion of culture (§§98-109). The work of this synod is to make the new evangelization alive and effective in consecrated life. Those in consecrated life must extend their essential fol-lowing of Christ to a further evangelical and apostolic dimen-sion. The Instrumentum calls for finding new forms of apostolic presence through an exploratory review of the traditional aposto-lates, of the gifts of the institute's members, of geographic loca-tions, and of ecumenical per-spectives. This section of the Instrumentum emphasizes the principle that the charism of an institute of consecrated life is a gift to the church for the world. Clearly the experiences of institutes of consecrated life serving in the church's mission throughout the world contributed immeasurably to the improvement of this part of the Instrumentum laboris. The Instrumentum's Conclusion. A Call to Fidelity The conclusion to the Lineamenta (§§45-47) dealt with three topics in three paragraphs. Yet it seemed more a continuation of the discussion of the document than a summary or conclusion. It presented Mary as the example par excellence for those who follow the virginal, poor, and obedient Christ (§45), Throughout 188 Review for Religious the history of the church, the many gifts or charisms of conse-crated life (eremitic, monastic, mendicant, apostolic, and secu-lar) have borne testimony to the presence of the Spirit in the church and have adorned the bride for her Spouse (§46). The final paragraph recognized the celebration of the synod as calling those professing the evangelical counsels to a more intense living of the graces they have received in order that Christ may be more present for the unity and salvation of all people (§47). The conclusion to the Instrumentum (§111) is significantly shorter. The synod is viewed as a moment of grace for conse-crated persons, particularly coming at the threshold of the third millennium since the incarnation of the Word. It calls conse-crated persons to a renewal of the four fidelities articulated in "Religious and Human Promotion": (1) fidelity to Christ and the gospel; (2) fidelity to the church and her mission; (3) fidelity to consecrated life and one's particular charism; (4) fidelity to the person and our age (§111).9 Since these four fidelities sum up the whole of consecrated life, the challenge to those living the evangelical counsels to recommit themselves to them seems a fitting conclusion to the Instrumentum laboris. Consecrated life, particular church-approved way of life that it is, is an intense response to one's baptismal commitment to follow Christ. Highlighting only a few of the more significant revisions, this article has attempted to demonstrate how constructively the worldwide consultation affected the reworking of the Lineamenta as it was becoming the Instrumentum that would guide the recent synod's discussion. The modifications contributed to the supe-rior quality of the Instrumentum in comparison with the Lineamenta. The assembly of bishops is presented in a listening stance towards consecrated persons and the rest of the Christian faith-ful; the synod is at one with the entire church in its reflection on consecrated life. The bishops acknowledge the efforts of insti-tutes of consecrated life and their members in meeting the chal-lenges in today's church and society. Likewise, they share the concerns of consecrated persons during this time of significant transition. The Instrumentum roots consecrated life firmly within March-AgrHl 1995 189 McDermott ¯ Tbe Fruits of Consultation the mystery of Christ and the ecclesial community; it identifies the living of the counsels as a participation in the church's prophetic, priestly, and kingly mission. Present-day experiences and apos-tolates of members of apostolic institutes of consecrated life inspire and give impetus to section 4 of the lnstrumentum on the participation of consecrated life in the mission of the church. And, finally, those consecrated through the profession of the coun-sels are called to a recommitment to the four fidelities that con-stitute their very existence. Pope Paul VI instituted the synod of bishops at the begin-ning of the fourth session of the council on 15 September 1965.1° One of the reasons for the establishment of this central consul-tative organ was to ensure that direct and real information would be provided to the Apostolic See on issues integral to the church and its mission. This purpose seems to have been accomplished. The consultative process assisted in the production of a working paper of high quality that reflected not only the teachings of the church on consecrated life, but also the experience of this Christian vocation throughout the world. The working paper seemed a most effective instrument in directing synodal discus-sions on "Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." Moreover, this Inst~tmentum, along with the synod's brief final message, is a source of encouragement for the whole church, particularly its members professing the evangelical counsels, as they await Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation. Notes ~ Synodus Episcoporum IX Coetu~ Generalis Ordinarius, De Vita Consecrata deque Eius Munere in Ecclesia et in Mundo Lineamenta (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1992). The English translation of the Lineamenta can be found in Origins 22, no. 26 (10 December 1992): 433 and 435-454. Subsequent references, to paragraphs, will be placed in parentheses within the text. 2 Synodus Episcoporum IX Coetus Generalis Ordinarius, De Vita Consecrata deque Eius Munere in Ecclesia et in Mundo lnstrumentum Laboris (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1994). The English translation of the Instrumentum laboris can be found in Origins 24, no. 7 (30 June 1994): 97 and 99-138. Subsequent references, to paragraphs, will be placed in parentheses within the text. 3 Rose McDermott SSJ, "Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World: The Lineamenta for the 1994 Synod of Bishops," The Jurist 53, no. 2 (1993): 242. 190 Review for Religious 4 Gilles Cusson, "Attentes des religieux et des religieuses a l'approche du synode sur la vie religieuse," Vie consacrde 65 (1993): 228. s McDermott, "Consecrated Life," 250-251. 6 Instrumentum laboris, §§4 and 39. 7 Andrea Boni, Vangelo e Vita Religiosa (Rilettura teologica e storico-giuridica dellefonti) (Rome: Pontificium Athenaeum Antonianum, 1994), p. 154. 8 S.C.R.S.I., "Directives for Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious in the Church," in Vatican Council H: More Post Conciliar Documents, ed. Austin Flannery OP (Northport: Costello Publishing Company, 1975), pp. 209-243. 9 S.C.R.S.I., "Religious and Human Advancement," in Flannery (ed.), Vatican, as in note 8, pp. 260-284. 10 Paul VI, Motu proprio Apostolica sollicitudo, 15 September 1965, in Canon Law Digest, vol. 6, pp. 388-411. Mary, Easter Morning Jesus, my Son! Jesus, my Son! Splendidly shining, silvered in lightnings! Here let me hold, hard to my heart, My beautiful Son, my blessed Redeemer! Sad though my heart, hope was my mainstay, Whilst grievously tattered, torn and sore wounded, Livid and lifeless, low wast thou laid. Now all is brightness, blissful and blithesome, Gold-fingered dawning, glorious day! For, scornful of death, defying the tomb, Them thou defeated. Thus thou appearest Jeweled with radiance, gemmed and resplendent, Triumphant in glory, my God and my Son! Mary Albertus Mathis RSM March-April 199~ 191 KEVIN RICHTER Ash Wednesday and Faith's Grounding Before anything else I want to say what is most impor-tant: We are an Easter people. This fact is clearly pre-sumed in every Christian liturgy. We are a people that believes that the resurrection of Jesus from the dead is life-giving for us. The kingdom is present; as kingdom people we await the fullness, the completion, of that king-dom. This is our context, our situation. Nothing mean-ingful could be said about Ash Wednesday and Lent without this Easter event being understood and accepted as their "source and summit." In an image adapted from T.S. Eliot, our life is a series of circles in which the end always comes back to the begin-ning and comes to know it as if "for the first time." The season of Lent is this ending which reminds us of Easter's new beginning, renews our participation in it, and pre-pares us for a deeper living of it. Ash Wednesday, then, could be called the beginning of the end. "Remember you are dust and to dust you will return" (Gn 3:19). These familiar words speak to us from the liturgy of this day as we are being marked with ashes. I have always liked these words, first of all for their abrupt-ness that matches the action, signaling a very deliberate Kevin Richter, a priest of the Sioux City diocese, currently serves as associate pastor of St. Mary parish in Remsen and as a spiritual director of the St. Mary school system. His address is St. Mary Parish; Rernsen, Iowa 51050. 192 Review for Religious and clear entrance into the Lenten season. We are visibly marked--an invitation out of the ambiguity of our life's direction into the truth seeking of the kingdom. When we receive the invi-tation, we are inflamed; when we willingly respond, we become ashes. Thus, my second reason for liking these words is that they "ground" us, both literally and figuratively. We are reminded of our earthiness. We are "humus," earth. Our lit-eral "humility" comes to the fore. We are called down from the loftiness of our ideas and our ,activities into the soil of our lives to become rooted again. There is great potential here for rediscovering rootedness in a world that is often experienced as hav-ing no roots. It is here, in the ground of our being, that we can reconnect with our innermost self, our deepest self, if and when we allow all things that are of our making to die. All of our idols--ideas, opinions, projects, activities, possessions-- come to rest with us in the dust of the earth. But, once again, coming to this place makes sense only if we are fully cognizant of the fact that it was into the dust of the earth that Yahweh blew the breath of life (see Gn 2:7). This is a place of promise, of hope, and of new life. God is stirred to "concern for his land" and takes "pity on his people" (J1 2:18).1 These things are understood in the light of the Easter event. The image of entering into our earthiness is an easy one for me, coming from a rural culture as I do. Each fall I watch the farmers bring in the harvest of the field. In the process they leave behind the "trash"--the chopped-up leaves, stalks, and corncobs-- to be plowed under and into the soil. This trash, transformed to humus, adds to the richness of the soil and prepares for a more abundant harvest in future years. So it is with us. Our entrance into earthiness is an invitation to let go of our own trash: to let go of our controlling nature, to let go of the conception of ourselves as self-sustained and self-contained, to let go of our diversions and distractions. When we explore the trash of our lives and begin to be able to let it go, it When we explore the trash of our lives and begin to be able to let it go, it becomes humus for fertilizer for a life of greater fruitfulness. March-April 1995 193 Richter ¯ Ash Wednesday and Faith's Grounding becomes humus for us--fertilizer for a life of greater fruitfulness. Through this action we return to the Lord with our "whole heart" (J12:12). This is an invitation to a simplicity of life that renews our focus on the reality of the circle, our movements to and from the Easter event. This is an invitation to recognize our being in the presence of God, who is the breath of life. The season of Lent, then, is not an entrance into the barren land that we have sometimes thought it to be. Rather, it is an entrance into a land that will produce much fruit. This day and this season are made holy by our actions of self-denial. If we embrace "the discipline of Lent," we are assured, we will find it to be not a place of desolation, but a deposit of richness waiting to give life and light. To embrace this discipline, to stand .true to the mark we have received on this day, takes great courage. It involves a willing-ness to look directly into the shadows and dark places of our lives. But I believe courage is given in proportion to our faith. The more deeply we come to believe in the light of the Easter event, the more courageous we become in exploring the darknesses of our lives. Each year, as we are given the grace, to enter more deeply into our personal experience of Easter, we also are given the grace of a "steadfast spirit" to enter more deeply into the darkness that is the 'ground of our being. In this way the circle of the Easter event has a spiraling effect that moves us into ever deeper levels of truth. So, what is the discipline of Lent? In the traditional language of the liturgy, it is a discipline of repentance and reconciliation. Of what are we repenting? Our project of building up our own self to the exclusion of God. To what are we being reconciled? Our deepest self, rooted intimately and infinitely in God. For we are to "become the very holiness of God," a grace that is not to be received "in vain" (2 Co 5:21 and 6:1). This is the project of a lifetime that is entered anew each year. In the antiseptic language of the day, the discipline of Lent is a project of "assessment and evaluation." It is a time for "taking stock of our priorities," for "clarifying objectives and setting goals." For Christians, however, this human effort, this "self-help project," is not an end in itself; it is the means to a greater end: becoming Easter people. In order to do this, we would do well to eliminate distrac-tions and clutter that keep us from living a simple and focused 194 Review for Religious life. Thus, "giving things up for Lent" is encouraged, provided that the things given up help us become Easter people. With a simple lifestyle we can begin to turn our hearts to their "ground-ing" in God. Likewise; "taking things on for Lent" is encouraged, provided that the things taken on help us become Easter people. Whatever we choose to do or not to do during this season should serve the purpose of reinserting us into this rhythm of life, the cycle of our participation in the growing kingdom of God. Something must be said here about the communal dimension of our participation in this growing, kingdom. Our action should not be thought of as a private action simply for our own personal benefit. Our liturgy, it may be noted, makes no provision for the distribution of ashes outside of the community celebration. We have been marked as a people, not as individuals. The mark of this day is given to everyone in the community, reminding us that we together form one "earth" and that the breath of each of us is from the one God. There can be no division here, no holding one's self apart, for then our land would become desolate and our life barren. We seek life, a life that produces abundant fruit. Ash Wednesday ushers us into a season in which we seek to realize ourselves as ,holy ground" (see Ex 3:5). We prepare the soil of our lives by hard work---the sweat of our brow (see Gn 3:19). Our motivation for doing this work must be the knowledge that we are an Easter people. God's seed is planted intimately and infinitely within our "holy ground." Note ~ Various scriptural and other wordings used herein are from the Ash Wednesday liturgy. March-April 1995 195 ERIK RIECHERS The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal ~atiS a delightful thing to gather together with other believers nd ponder the gospel call to service and mission. Over and over again we have done exactly this in the years since Vatican Council II. Yet many members of the church have grown weary of the tedious deliberations and often angry exchanges that have marked our search for what is needed to bring about church renewal. We have been forced to acknowledge thirty years after the council that the renewal of the church is a far more daunting task than we imagined, one that cannot be well undertaken with-out serious efforts on. the part of all members of the church, laity and clergy, men and women, young and old. Today we realize that our commitment to the church occurs within the stress all of us feel as we find ourselves hurtling along towards the next millennium. We do not have the luxury of stop-ping and quietly reflecting on the next step in our course of action. It is folly to think of preparing for a storm that awaits us. We are already in the throes of that storm. That being said, what does it mean to speak of commitment to the church? Ready answers trip from the tongue, but leave us all just a little cold because they are but repetitions of the party line. Therein lies the nub of our problem. We are focused on Erik Riechers SAC, a member of the Pallottine Secretariat on Apostolate in Rome, serves as the director of the Regional Faith Enrichment Center in Red Deer, Alberta. This article flows from the keynote address at the Church 2000 Archdiocesan Pastoral Assembly in Edmonton, Alberta. His address is 6 McMillan Avenue; Red Deer, Alberta T4N 5X8; Canada. 196 Review for Religious "activities" that express our commitment. Going to Mass, cele-brating the sacraments, attentiveness to the word of God in scrip-ture- study groups, missionary projects, ministerial formation, and community building: all of these are certainly part and parcel of our commitment to Jesus and his church. It was a mistake, how-ever, to believe that this would suffice to renew the church in the spirit of Vatican II. Too often we have acted as if all of these activities would end up creating a new commitment, when in fact they can never be more than the expression of it. Because people have not noticed ¯ this false identification of activity with commitment, it has become possible for all segments of the church to fight for control of structures and activi-ties. Together in this false indentifi-cation, left and right, liberal and conservative, have truly been in col-lusion (see Margaret O'Brien Steinfels, America, 2 May 1992) while quarreling endlessly about which activities must be front and center and which ones must be swiftly and defini-tively relegated to the back benches. The question of the moti-vation behind the activity is forgottenas we place all our faith in a new process, method, or structure. Obviously something must accompany structural renewal in the church. At the heart of all our commitments lie our attitudes. Our thoughts and feelings towards people and organizations deter-mine our willingness to commit ourselves to them. In some fash-ion we must discover value and worth in others before we are willing to invest the time, effort, and energy that commitment entails. As we uncover genuine beauty, truth, and goodness in another, we are drawn to commit ourselves to him or her, to insure that nothing will ever separate us. The process then begins in which we select our priorities, sift our lives, and remove the chaff in order to strengthen the commitment. We make real changes of lifestyle and behavior. We discard some old attitudes. Whenever we are truly committed, we are willing to appraise our thoughts and perceptions and, if necessary, alter them for the sake of that Our thoughts and feelings towards people and organizations determine our willingness to commit ourselves to them. March-April 199Y 197 Riecbers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal to which we are committed. Some of our previous options will not remain intact, for they will be found to be in contradiction with our new commitment and incapable of existing in har.mony with it. Commitment means focus. Focus means concentration, intensity, direction, and clarity, but it also means freely chosen limitations, defined contours, and real surrender. If we would speak of our commitment to the church, we must seriously consider the nature of commitment. Eager as we have been to discard structures, systems, and style~ in our faith com-munities and to adopt new methods, means, and maneuvers, we have failed to realize that, for a renewal of our commitment to the church, what is most needed is an overhaul of our attitudes. Reform in the church has often been brilliantly conceived but abysmally executed. We are like landlords who have seen our apartment ruined by careless and thoughtless tenants. So we evict them, tear down the old lodgings as not worth repairing, con-struct luxury accommodations on the site, and then promptly invite all the old tenants to move back in, without changing their attitude towards our property. In the church we have often pro-vided a new backdrop for the same old prereform attitudes. Our challenge is to change our attitudes towards the dwelling place of God, the temple of the Spirit. If we are committed to the church, we will display the readiness to revisit our attitudes, thoughts, biases, and ecclesial conditioning and alter, discard, or rework anything that hinders the coming of the kingdom. I cannot offer an exhaustive list of new attitudes for genuine reform, but I shall sketch out four attitudes that the modern church stands in need of: (1) an abiding trust in the kingdom, (2) a willingness to deal with complexity and tension as part of eccle-sial existence, (3) a searching desire for inclusivity, and (4) a readi-ness to seek the mysterious God in the daily experience of modern life. An Abiding Trust in the Kingdom This attitude stands in direct contradiction to resignation a]ad despair. Both of these attitudes are far too common in the church. Paul M. Zulehner, a professor of pastoral theology at the University of Vienna, describes the situation very vividly in his bool¢ Wider die Resignation in der Kirche (Against Resignation in the Church). People are annoyed and irritated with the power poli- 198 Review for Religious tics played in the church, especially in their parishes. There is a growing disillusionment at the lack of openness in the church as major problems and cries for understanding are swept under the carpet or ignored, instead of being looked at openly with a will-ingness to listen to the needs of the people of God. All kinds of factions complain about the reforms of Vatican II, some com-plaining that the pace is too slow, some that it is too swift, and some that the attempt at reform has been piecemeal at best. Others complain that there is a lack of compassion towards such intraecclesial minorities as the divorced, homosexuals, and women seeking ministerial equality. Yet others think there is too much compassion towards these same groups. Great numbers feel despair or numb resignation at the sight of empty pews and the exodus of youth. The only antidote for this is an abiding trust in the kingdom. Cardinal Martini of Milan makes this point in his book Von seinem Geist getrieben, reminding the church of the true goal and nature of the church, namely, Jesus and the kingdom. We have forgotten this or have been distracted from it by the daily grind of our lives and by the many insignificant and peripheral things that are part of everyday life in the church. We have introduced changes at times, making the church a social agency or an institution for the advocacy of human rights. At other times we have acted as if the need was to spoon-feed people with spirituality. Martini points out that two activities are essentially true to the nature of the church and require our urgent attention. He finds one of them in Acts 20:20-21, 27, and 31: "You know how I did not shrink from declaring to you anything that was profitable, and teaching you in public and from house to house, testifying both to Jews and to Greeks of repentance to God and of faith in our Lord Jesus Christ . For I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God . Therefore be alert, remembering that for three years I did not cease night or day to admonish every one with tears." From this passage Martini draws out the goal of the church in its pastoral activity, namely, to be ceaseless and tireless in it, drawing strength from the Spirit who prompts it to speak, plead, admonish, intercede, and pro-claim. It is not success, but tireless effort for the kingdom, that Paul claims as the glory of the church. Then Martini looks at Acts 2:42: "They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of the March-April 199Y 199 Riecbers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal In the midst of pessimism and despair, where do we give witness to God breaking into the human story? Where is the authentic hope that such a God and his kingdom would bring? bread and the prayers." Here he draws attention to the church achieving its purpose in the apostolic teaching and fellowship, Eucharist and sacramental life, a rich liturgical and prayer life. When it is true to these matters, it is true to its nature and essence. Both of these elements are of critical importance for a people that has an abiding trust in the kingdom, for they speak of the reality of God's command of our situation rather than the need for us to try to control all of life. They are a rebuke to the prophets of doom from both sides who seem to have forgotten that God is still run-ning this show. Much of our challenge to change lies right here. We are constantly deluged with com-plaint from prophets of doom of every faction in the church: Everything is in decline, every-thing getting worse! More crime, violence, and blood-shed, less respect, kindness, and neighborliness! Politicians are more corrupt, economies weaker, and leaders less inspir-ing. Hand in hand with this endless litany of despair is a deep pessimism about our future, our fellow human beings, and our ability to improve matters. But where does our faith in the kingdom enter into this chaotic mess? In the midst of pessimism and despair, where do we give witness to God breaking into the human story? Where is the authentic hope that such a God and his kingdom would bring? Like the parable of the seed growing while the farmer is unaware, we are called to live as church with our action and response dic-tated by the kingdom. We are called to action. We do what we can. We plant seeds and then hope and pray for their fruition. The seeds we plant in God's name grow while we are unaware. We often see nothing at all. There appears to be no growth, no progress, no development. Then suddenly the harvest is surpris- 200 Review for Religious ingly apparent, far beyond our expectations--so much for prophets of doom! Belief in their message of inevitable decline is a subtle but clear refusal to believe in the unstoppable coming and growth of the kingdom. In its place we must announce our faith in the powerful coming of the kingdom of God, a kingdom more powerful than all the evil and deterioration we confront in our Christian lives. The Willingness to Deal with Complexity and Tension This attitude stands in contradiction to fundamentalism, which avoids complexity by reducing everything to simple and clear-cut propositions. Yet life is complex and full of nuances that are demanding and time consuming. Since there is no easy way to sort out the many facets of today's issues and since the resulting weariness often makes us reluctant to deal with matters at hand, fundamentalism proposes reducing everything to a series of sim-ple truths. As tempting as this often is to all of us, as relieving as it might be to fall back on overly simple answers, we usually seek such a fundamentalism only when dealing with others and are horrified when others treat us in the same way. Who of us would gladly accept an unnuanced approach to our lives? Who of us wants our life to be dealt with by being reduced to a few simple truths that omit many relevant details? Instead, we insist on nuances, on pointing out the many little things about us that are not so obvi-ous to others. We feel unloved until we are dealt with as a total-ity. We are deeply hurt when others refuse to recognize and deal with our complexity. If we are unwilling to deal with the complexity of issues in the community of faith, we behave in a sim!larly unloving way-- from the need we feel for relevance and success. Relevance insists tha.t everything be clear, that there be a determined purpose and definite means to achieve it. When issues are clouded or uncer-tain and when a distinct and manageable solution cannot be found, we deem the issues irrelevant. If we cannot state the purpose of something, cannot show the inner logic or demonstrate the ratio-nale, then the matter is irrelevant. We buy into this heresy. Our question is not relevance, but simply: Is it loving? Henri Nouwen warns of the temptation of rel-evance in his book In the Name of Jesus. After describing the drive March-April 199Y 201 Riecbers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal There is an amazing willingness to segregate, isolate, and separate those we do not understand or cannot agree with. for relevance in our society and the lack of interest or need for the spiritual answers to the pragmatic problems of our world, Nouwen goes on to write: "In this climate of secularization, Christian lead-ers feel less and less relevant and more and more marginal. Many begin to wonder why they should stay in the ministry. Often they leave, develop a new competency, and join their contemporaries in their attempts to make relevant contributions to a better world. But there is a completely different story to tell. Beneath all the great accomplishments of our time, there is a deep current of despair. While efficiency and control are the great aspirations of our society, loneliness, isolation, lack of friend-ship and intimacy, broken relation-ships, boredom, feelings of emptiness and depression, and a deep sense of uselessness fill the hearts of millions of people in our success-oriented world" (pp. 20-21). Relevance alone is but another way of avoiding the complexity of a world that never can be reduced to the merely efficient and successful. Success is another way by which we circumvent the need to deal with complexity in our church. By reduc-ing everything to the question of success and the measurement thereof, we have done violence to life itself. There is more to life than success. But it is difficult to convince people that success is an idol, even though thousands and thousands practically adore the successful and venerate their achievement. Can success be an idol, they think, if good and decent people aspire after it and dream of it? For many of us, success is everything. The successful peer out at us in every mag-azine and TV program. Few seem to be interested in those who gave it "the old college try," but failed to walk away with the tro-phy. The danger has been going unnoticed while we kept applying the criteria of success to our faith lives and communities as well. We felt that faith and community must lead to achievement; there 202 Review for Religious must be something to show for it in the end; success stories must be written, goals must be attained, and trophies must be won. St. Paul does not approve of this way of thinking. Run the race to the finish, yes; fight the good fight, yes. But he does not say that he won the race or the fight. He makes it clear that he continues to strain forward and not quit the struggle. Paul changes the crite-ria: not success, but striving. Success is not one of the names of God. To struggle is to love. Jesus himself teaches us this in the parable of the pharisee and the tax collector. He points out that the tax collector struggles, keeps fighting to be good. The pharisee is conscious only of suc-cess, of his list of achievements, becoming so proud of success that he thinks he can stop running the race. He is not justified because he has not loved enough to struggle for humility, to see the tax collector as his brother, to recognize his dependence upon God. As a community of faith, we must call to mind that we strug-gle only for what we love. We human beings make no effort for what we consider unimportant, insignificant. We do not invest in what leaves us indifferent or cold. We demonstrate no will-ingness to put out for what does not touch us. Only what we love awakens in us the willingness to struggle, and it is the struggle of another for us that puts to rest the notion that success alone is important. In fact, struggle met with failure often speaks more eloquently of the love given us than success that was achieved effortlessly. We need only think of people's valiant struggles to deal with adolescent problems, marriage difficulties, and the com-munity's weaknesses and foibles to know this truth. The Searching Desire for Inclusivity Here we are faced with an attitude that resists the individu-alism and polarization of modern community, a polarization that Paul Zulehner claims has exacted a very high price. People have moved on to other things, sought out places where they could feel at home. The official representatives of the church are often distant from the reality of the people in the pews. There is a sense that they do not understand the struggle of many parts of the church (such as the youth, women, and the laity). There is little or no sharing in leadership issues or in choice of leaders, no dia-logue between leadership and people. As a result, people can no Marcb-April 1995 203 Riechers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal longer easily see the presence of Jesus. The phenomenal success of Joseph Girzone's Joshua series speaks of this loss of trans-parency. Few things are transparent. Processes in the church are secretive and incomprehensible. The consequence is polarization, with each group racing to achieve its own agenda or place it at the top of the church's list of things to do. All of these things are the result of a lack of inclusivity. There is an amazing willingness to segregate, isolate, and separate those we do not understand or cannot agree with. There is a remarkable readiness simply to rid ourselves of pesky people. We watch with considerable indifference as some of the people walk away, and we are rather glad that we no longer have to deal with their trou-blesome issues and pains. Instead we must strive for a greater inclusivity, as befits a peo-ple of the kingdom. Jesus practices a greater inclusivity by whom he invites to the table of fellowship. Paul emphasizes this divinely rooted inclusivity in the stirring words of Galatians: "There can be neither Jew nor Greek, there can be neither slave nor free-man, there can be neither male nor female--for you are all one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 4:28). To recapture inclusivity, there must be a return to the practice of mutual complementarity as expressed with such brilliance in the Pauline image of the Body of Christ. We must move even deeper and return, in the words of Bruno Forte, to the trinitarian homeland of the faith and realize that the church is the icon of the Trinity, not a mere corporate recog-nition of the Trinity, but an efficacious expression of it. A trinitarian love dynamic entails a move from union to indi-viduality and back, with each person a giver and receiver at the same time and each spontaneously and freely taking the initia-tive in loving. Forte reminds us of this trinitarian rootedness of the church: "Coming from above, springing forth from the Trinity, the church is also structured after the image of the Trinity--one in diversity, communion of different charisms and ministries brought about by one Spirit, the church lives by that circulation of love of which trinitarian life is, besides its source, the incomparable model" (The Trinity as History, p. 207). Herein lies for us the anti-dote for a polarized church: to form communion rooted in the life of the Trinity. Jeffrey Imbach, in his book The Recovery of Love, makes the same point: "Love in the Trinity is both the passion to be One and the passion to be Unique . The exchange of love in the Trinity 204 Review for Religious is neither the embrace of a union so total that there is no dis-tinction left, nor is it the celebration of separate persons. It is both, and both simultaneously, each flowing out of the other . The quintessence of spiritual experience is to enter as deeply as possi-ble into the simultaneous flowing of love between Unity and Plurality, between losing oneself in Union, bursting forth into fruitful uniqueness and losing ourselves again in union" (pp. 78-79). Readiness to Seek the Mysterious God in the Daily Experience of Modem Life There remain among us great illusions that only the old ways will do, even long after the opposite is painfully obvious in the church. We cling to the forms as if they could save us: Roman collars, the liturgical use of Latin, or Communion on the tongue. As a result, a great gap between modern human experience and the language and imagery of the church has developed. A new lan-guage is needed, a new way of speaking about God. Terminology can never be allowed to become more important than communi-cation. Langdon Gilkey's influential work has reminded us that revelation uses whatever history offers as a medium of commu-nication. Innovative ministries exist, but they create furor when they do not match what came before. In many ways we seem totally foreign to the world around us. While many have deemed this to be a positive sign of our distinctiveness from the world or our unwillingness to stray from the tradition, it is in fact rooted in a distressing lack of faith. The moment we refuse to adapt, we are claiming that God has .spoken once, in one way and one form. There is no room for God to maneuver. Such an attitude betrays an underlying unwillingness to believe that God could work through new people, styles, places, and means. It is an arbitrary and ahistoricalapproach to the real-ity of the church. We would do well to heed St. Vincent Pallotti's reminder. "Seek God and you will find him. Seek him in all things and you will find him in all things. Seek-him always and you will find him always." There is so much to be done, but we are afraid to do it. There is always an excuse in the church for not acting: "People are not ready, they will not accept new attitudes . . . it will upset people and we will be misunderstood and maligned., it is only a drop in the bucket., we cannot change it all." We are, of course, not March-April 1995 205 Riechers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal called to change it all. We are called to live church well wher-ever we stand: parish, diocesan commission, school, office, or meeting room. We all wish to receive love, yet few wish to initiate its giving-- from an inaccurate perception of the way of love. Giving and receiving do not stand opposed. Through God's grace we can give love and receive it in one fluid motion, but this happens only when we trust more in God's revealed love in Jesus Christ than in any model we ourselves may come up with. St. Vincent Pallotti offers us a fine prayer to remind us of this God-centered reality we so badly need: "By myself I can do nothing. With God I can do everything. Out of love for God I will do all. Give honor to God." Compassion 0 healing Christ, look with your pity's gentleness into the old-wise eyes of the child who has tasted suffering too soon. Grace with your sweetness the endurance of such pain that leaves these little ones, your companions to Calvary, no strength to complain. Judith Powell 206 Review for Religious : ROBERT P. MALONEY Providence Revisited Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead thou me on! . . . Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene--one step enough for me. --John Henry Newman Saints like St. Vincent de Paul speak of providence with great conviction. They see God's plan at work every-where. They invoke providence to encourage those who find themselves groping in the darkness, to strengthen those experiencing pain,' to slow down the hasty, to pro-mote initiative in those planning the future. This essay will (1) analyze the idea of providence in the spoken words, writings, and life of St. Vincent (1581-1660), who founded the Congregation of the Mission and the Daughters of Charity; (2) will describe some fundamental shifts that have taken place in thinking between the 17th and 20th centuries; and (3) will "revisit!' providence today. Providence in St. Vincent de Paul It is utterly clear, as one tea& St. Vincent, how impor-tant a role providence plays for him. At times his words are eloquent. He writes to Jean Barreau, the French consul in Algiers: "We cannot better assure our eternal happi- Robert P. Maloney CM serves as superior general of the Congregation of the Mission (Vincentian Fathers and Brothers). His address is Congregazione della Missione; Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Rome, Italy. March-April 1995 207 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited ness than by living and dying in the service of the poor, in the arms of providence, and with genuine renouncement of ourselves in order to follow Jesus Christ" (SVIII, 392).~ Vincent offers no systematic philosophical or theological anal-ysis of providence. But the documents we possess, especially his letters, written for particular occasions and for individuals whose personalities were quite varied, give us considerable insight into how he understood it. God has a hidden plan which works consistently for good. We owe some of Vincent's most striking statements on prov-idence to St. Louise de Marillac, who joined with him in found- ¯ ing the Daughters of Charity. As she struggled, particularly in the upbringing of her son Michel, she disclosed her pain to Vincent. He encouraged her to do her best, to be at peace, and to place the rest in God's hands. In 1629 he writes: "I wish you good evening and hope that you are no longer weeping over the hap-piness of your little Michel . Mon Dieu, my daughter, what great hidden treasures there are in holy providence and how mar-velously our Lord is honored by those who follow it aitd do not try to get ahead of i!!" (SVI, 68). The need to follow providence comes up again and again as Vincent writes to various confreres durin~ his lengthy negotiations to get the vows of the Congregation of the Mission approved and to acquire a residence in Rome. In 1640 he tells Louis Lebreton, who was encountering obstacles in trying to get a house for the Congregation: "I know that nothing can be added to your dili-gence and that this [situation] is not due to you personally, neither to your zeal nor your handling of the matter. Our Lord has given you both and is directing this matter according to the order of his eternal providence. Be assured, Monsieur, that you will see in this situation that it is for the best, and I think I can already see it as clearly as the light of day. Oh, Monsieur, how good it is to let oneself be guided by his providence!" (SVII, 137). Vincent appeals to God's hidden plan in many varied cir-cumstances: to explain the surprising success of the works he has started, to console the Company when speaking of the sickness or death of missionaries, to encourage those who have lost their par-ents, to find meaning in the sudden departure of missionaries or Daughters of Charity from the Company, to urge the Company to accept calumny and persecution with courage,z 208 Review for Religious He is so convinced of how important it is that the Daughters of Charity be led by providence that he even imagines their being called Daughters of Providence: "Oh, my Daughters, you should have such great devotion to, such great confidence and love in, divine providence that, if providence itself had not given you the beautiful name of Daughters of Charity, you should bear that of Daughters of Providence, for it was providence that brought you into being.''3 Grace has its moments; God's plan will be revealed to those who wait peace-fully and patiently. This theme comes through very strongly in Vincent's letters to the impetuous Bernard Codoing, the superior in Rome, who often aroused the founder's ire by mov-ing too quickly or too brusquely. After rebuking Codoing rather sharply in a letter written on 7 December 1641 and after telling him to act with greater delibera-tion, Vincent adds: "Reflecting on all the principal events that have taken place in this Company, it seems to me, and this is quite evi-dent, that, if they had taken place before they did, they would not have been successful. I say that of all of them, without except-ing a single one. That is why I have a particular devotion to fol-lowing the adorable providence of God step by step. And my only consolation is that I think our Lord alone has carried on and is constantly carrying on the business of the Little Company" (SV II, 208). On 16 March 1644 Vincent reprimands Codoing for interfering in matters that are not his concern, urges him to attend to his own affairs, and reminds him that providence will take care of the rest. "Grace has its moments," he tells him (SVII, 453). In Vincent's writings, there is a clear tension between activ-ity and passivity. His attitude depended greatly on the circum-stances. For instance, in trying to moderate the indiscreet zeal of Philippe le Vacher, he urges passivity: "The good that God wishes Vincent is so convinced of how important it is that the Daughters of Charity be led by providence that he even imagines their being called Daughters of Providence. March-April 1995 209 Maloney * Providence Revisited The close link between doing the will of God and following providence is a recurrent theme in Vincent's letters. to be done comes about almost by itself, without our thinking about it. That is the way that the congregation was born, that the missions and the retreats to ordinands began, that the Company of the Daughters of Charity came into being . Mon Dieu! Monsieur, how I desire that you would moderate your ardor and weigh things maturely on the scale of the sanctuary before resolving them! Be passive rather than active. In that way God will do through you alone what the whole world together could not do without him" (SVIV, 122- 123). He often emphasizes this theme to Louise de Marillac, encouraging her to be patient in awaiting the action of God.4 In all this it is quite evident that Vincent abhorred rushing. He tells oth-ers that "God's spirit is neither violent nor hasty," "his works have their moment," they are done "almost by themselves," they are accomplished "little by little." He tells Codoing, "If necessity urges us to make haste, then let it be slowly, as the wise proverb says.''5 But there is also another side to Vincent's teaching. We are God's coworkers, so we must make haste, even i~slowly. With Etienne Blatiron, the superior in Rome in 1655, Vincent's emphasis shifts subtly as he makes it clear that he is eager for some action: "Do not stop pursuing our business, with confi-dence that it is God's good pleasure . Let us act., in nego-tiating one of the most important affairs that the congregation will ever have" (SVV, 396). The tension between activity and passivity, within Vincent himself is evident in another letter he writes to Etienne Blatiron, 12 November 1655. He comments favorably on a practice that Blatiron has begun of asking, through the intercession of St. Joseph, for the spread of the Company. He adds reflectively: "For twenty years I have not dared to ask that of God, thinking that, since the congregation is his work, we should leave to his provi-dence alone the responsibility for its conservation and its growth. 210 Review for Religious But, struck by the recommendation made to us in the gospel to ask him to send laborers into the harvest, I have become convinced of the importance and usefulness of this devotion.''6 Finally, if we should be tempted to interpret Vincent's teach-ing on providence too passively, we might recall the founder's words to Edme Jolly: "You are one of the few men who honor the providence of God very much by the preparation of reme-dies against foreseen evils, I thank you very humbly for this and pray that our Lord will continue to enlighten you more and more so that such enlightenment may spread through the Company" (SVVII, 310). There is an intimate link, in St. I/Tncent's teaching, between following providence and doing the will of God in all things. One of the early, abiding influences on Vincent's thought is Benedict of Canfield's Rule of Perfection, in which doing the will of God in all things is described as the central element in the spir-itual life.7 From many of the citations above, the reader has already noted how central doing the will of God is for Vincent. In the period of Louise de Marillac's anguish over her son Michel's future, he writes to her about another problem concerning a small infant and then adds: "In any case, God will provide for the child and for your son as well, without your giving way to anxiety about what will become of him. Give the child and the mother to our Lord. He will take good care of you and your son. Just let him do his will in you and in him and await it in all your exercises. All you need do is devote yourself entirely to God. Oh, how little it takes to be very holy: to do the will of God in all things" (8VII, 36). The close link between doing the will of God and following providence is a recurrent theme in Vincent's letters. He writes to Ren~ Almeras on 10 May 1647: "Oh, Monsieur, what a happiness to will nothing but what God wills, to do nothing but what is in accord with the occasion providence presents, and to have noth-ing but what God in his providence has given us!" (SVIII, 188). St. Vincent's teaching on providence rests on two foundation stones: (I) deep confidence in God as a loving father and (2) indifference, that is, detachment from anything that impedes us from "willing only what he wills" (see SVV, 403). Trust in providence is the ability to place oneself in the hands of God as a loving father. "Let us give ourselves to God," Vincent March-April 1995 211 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited says repeatedly to the Vincentians and to the Daughters of Charity.8 He has deep confidence in God as his Father, into whose hands he can place himself and his works. The journal written by Jean Gicquel recounts how Vincent, on 7 June 1660, just four months before his death, said to Fathers ~klmeras, Berthe, and Gicquel: "To be consumed for God, to have no goods or power except for the purpose of consuming them for God--that is what our Savior did himself, who was consumed for love of his Father" (SVXIII, 179). Vincent wanted love for God to be all-embracing. He writes to Pierre Escart: "I greatly hope we may set about stripping our-selves entirely of affection for anything that is not God, be attached to things only for God and according to God, and that we may seek and establish his kingdom first of all in ourselves and then in others. That is what I entreat you to ask of him for me." (SVII, 106). Vincent is profoundly convinced that, because God loves us deeply as a father, he exercises a continual providence in our lives. He tells the Daughters: "To have confidence in providence means that we should hope that God takes care of those who serve him, as a husband takes care of his wife or a father of his child. That is how--and far more truly--God takes care of us. We have only to abandon ourselves to his guidance, as the Rule says, just as 'a little child does to its nurse.' If she puts it on her right arm, the child is quite content; if she moves him over to her left, he does not care; he is quite satisfied provided he has her breast. We should, then, have the same confidence in divine providence, see-ing that it takes care of all that concerns us, just as a nursing mother takes care of her baby." (SVX, 503). Speaking of the providence which Jesus himself has for his followers, Vincent tells Jean Martin in 1647: "So, Father, let us ask our Lord that everything may be done in accordance with his providence, that our wills be submitted to him in such a way that between him and us there may be only one, which will enable us to enjoy his unique love in time and in eternity" (SVIII, 197). One notes here again the strong influence of Benedict of Canfield on Vincent. Indifference, for Vincent, is detachment from all things that would keep us from God. It sets us free to be united with him, dis-posihg us to will only what he wills. It is indispensably linked with trust in providence. He tells Louise de Marillac how close our 212 Review for Religious Lord is to all who cooperate with his will. He repeats this advice to her again and again: "It is necessary to accept God's way of acting toward yotir Daughters, to offer them to him, and to remain in peace. The Son of God saw his company dispersed and almost wiped out forever. You must unite your will with his.''9 He speaks lyrically to the Daughters of Charity on the theme: "To do the will of God is to begin paradise in this world. Give me a Daughter who does for her whole life the will of God. She begins to do on earth what the blessed do in heaven. She begins her paradise even in this world" (SV IX, 645). Some Horizon Shifts between the 17th and 20th Centuries ¯ The problematic which I have described in my article on the cross applies to providence as well; I will not, therefore, repeat it here.1° A theology of the cross and a theology of providence are closely intertwined. This is evident in the writings of St. Vincent and St. Louise, where the two themes often occur in the same context,li Keeping in mind what has already been stated about the cross, here I will mention only briefly two other factors that influence the way one views providence, namely, two horizon shifts that have taken place between Vincent's time and ours. We have moved from an era which emphasized direct causality to one which focuses on secondary causes and emphasizes the autonomy of the human person. This shift was already taking place in Vincent's time. Today it is very much a part of the air We breathe. In a scientific era one focuses on empirical data. Both well-being and disease are attributed to discernible causes, rather than directly to God. Even when the cause of a diseaseis unknown, we search for it today with the conviction that it will eventually be found. In that con-text, attributing good or evil to God's providence can sometimes sound quaint or occasionally hollow. Even worse, when someone is confronted with serious problems, the exhortation to abandon oneself to provider~ce may run contrary to prudence, which urges us to seek remedies for our ills. Of course, this shift in emphasis is not an entirely new way of looking at things. Catholic moral theology has, in fact, consis-tently placed strong emphasis on the role of secondary causes, March-April 199Y 213 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited since it has always placed great emphasis on human responsibil-ity. Moreover, Catholic systematic theology, with its stress on mediation, has often similarly accented secondary causes.~2 Particularly since Gaudium et spes, Catholic theology has empha-sized the autonomy of the human person (see GS §§4, 9, 12, 14, 15, 22). One is surely slower today than in Vincent's time to attribute things directly to God when they are more evidently of human doing. We are conscious too that this way of thinking "lets God be God," so to speak. It recognizes his ultimate autonomy, his com-plete otherness. It recognizes too that his causality does not dimin-ish human freedom, but is the ground for it; in fact, dependence on God and genuine human autonomy increase, rather than decrease, in direct proportion to one another.13 God's power does not enslave human beings; it empowers them (see GS §34). In this perspective the human person is seen as being in pro-cess, as incomplete, as openness to the absolute. Change is accepted not only as inevitable, but as desirable. Rapid change, moreover, has become part of life, and its rate seems to be grow-ing exponentially. In an age of computers, we are convinced-that we can "make things happen" and that we can eventually find the solution to almost all problems that arise. There has been a shift from a static way of viewing the world to a his-torical way. The ways in which we view the world, the human person, and God are intimately intertwined. Our view of providence is affected by all of these. Different ways of viewing these realities charac-terize different epochs, but they often also exist simultaneously within the same epoch. Here, let me briefly describe three.~4 In a static understanding, such as prevailed in the 15th and 16th centuries and into Vincent's time, the view of the human person is ahistorical. Society's established orders are accepted as divinely willed. External laws and rules prevail. The political, economic, and social spheres are governed by the established laws. Within this context the emphasis in one's view of God is on the Absolute, the All-Powerful, the Omnipresent, the Omniscient. In speaking of providence one sees God as ruling over all and directing all. Faith in providence takes the form of abandonment and absolute confidence in God's plan, which never fails. As is evident, this perspective has brought rich benefits to the lives of 214 Review for Religious many saints, including Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac, but there is a danger for some that this understanding of God's providence can lead to escapism or lack of responsibility. In a personalist understanding of reality, which has emerged increasingly since the 18th century as the "rights of man" have come to be emphasized, the autonomy and liberty of the human person come to the fore. Human responsibility and creativity are accented. In ethics the emphasis lies on interiorization and conscience. In theology, history and process are highlighted. The church is seen as the Body of Christ. In speaking of God one emphasizes his per-sonal love as Father. In talking about prov-idence, one sees God as guiding us all in our personal histories. God loves us. He walks with us. He leads us. While there are many advantages to this perspective, par-ticularly on the level of conviction about God's love and the need for personal conversion, there is a dan-ger that this understanding of God and providence can fall into "intimism." In a sociohistorical understanding of reality, the emphasis is on ¯ the interrelationship of people within a societal context and the building up of the human family. In ethics social responsibility is highlighted. The transformation of society and sociopolitical real-ity is underlined. Sin too shows up as social.15 There is a call to change unjust social structures. In theology the trinitarian God is emphasized. The church is viewed as the people of God, living in a permanent exodus. When one speaks of providence, one speaks of God as the liberator of his people, freeing them from the bonds of oppression. This perspective has the advantage of moving toward the concrete and fundamental resolution of social problems that keep the poor poor; for some it bears the risk of falling into an activism that loses focus on God's ways. God's power does not enslave human beings; it empowers them. Revisiting Providence Today There is much reexamination of providence today, with a view toward articulating a theology that, while recognizing various levels of causality, accounts for both the rational and irrational March-April 1995 215 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited within human existence and can find meaning where we experi-ence chaos, disorder, violence, and apathy.16 A theology of prov-idence is at root a theology of meaning. It seeks to bridge the gap between the polarities of human experience: design/chaos, health/sickness, life/death, grace/sin, care/noncare, plan/disrup-tion, peace/violence. Ministers of providence are those men and women whose lives witness to meaning and who can speak mean-ing. Docility to providence is an attitude of reverent trust before the mystery of God as revealed in Christ, in whom life, death, and resurrection are integrated.17 Trust in providence means rootedness in a loving, personal God. Belief in providence shows itself throughout history not so much in credal statements as in the trusting words of daily prayer. It is inseparable from faith in a loving, personal God. The human mind balks at mystery. Yet we encounter it again and again at the base of our deepest joys and our deepest sorrows. Birth, death, beauty, tragedy--all are shrouded in mystery. We continually struggle to reconcile opposites, to plumb the depths of life and death. As early as the 5th century B.C., the Greeks, particularly the Stoics, used the term proT?idence to denote a rational order of things where a divine reason pervades everything. This term enters the Old Testament rather late in the books of Job and Wisdom, where it joins an earlier strain that focuses not so much on a philo-sophical concept of cosmic harmony as on God acting in history. This fundamental Old Testament belief sees God as allied with his people. He is active in creating, covenanting, chastising, forgiv-ing, liberating. He is with his people both in their conquests and in their captivity. He goes with them into exile, and he returns with them. "Can a mother forget her infant, be without tender-ness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you. See, upon the palms of my hands I ha~e written your name" (Is 49:15-16). This provident.God of the Hebrew Scriptures is the God of Jesus Christ. He is the Father whom Jesus loves and who cap-tures his entire attention. Jesus' death and resurrection are the ultimate proclamation of providence. At the heart of New Testament faith is belief in a personal God, who reveals himself as Father in his Son, Jesus, who takes on human flesh. Jesus him-self struggles with the mysteries of life, growth, success, desertion 216 Review for Religious by his followers, pain, and death. He finds the resolution o.f the struggle not in some clearly stated philosophy that he outlines for future ages, but in commending himself into the hands of his Father. He trusts that his Father loves him deeply and that he can bring joy from sorrow, life from death. The New Testament, reflecting on Jesus' experience, tells us again and again to focus on the personal love of God for us. Jesus extols, in a passage that Vincent loved, God's providence for his children: "Consider the lilies of the field. They do not work; they do not spin. Yet I assure you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was arrayed like one of these. If God can clothe in such splendor the grass of the field, which blooms today and is thrown on the fire tomorrow, will he not provide much more for you, O weak in faith.".18 Luke's writings, especially, highlight God's providence.19 The Spirit of the Father and of Jesus is active from the beginning in Luke, guiding the course of history. He anoints Jesus with power from on high and directs him and his dis-ciples in their ministry.2° One of the crucial signs of faith in a personal God is confi-dent prayer. The very act of praying states that we believe that God is alive, that he relates to us, that he listens, that he cares about our journey, that he hears the cries of the poor especially, and that he responds. It is for this reason that Luke's Gospel insists so frequently on trusting, persistent prayer.2~ Docility to providence is an attitude of reverent trust before the mystery of God as revealed in Christ, in whom life, death, and resurrection are integrated. Trust in providence is the ability to hope in God's wisdom and power. Trust in providence implies trust that there is an unseen wis-dom that guides the events of history and that is able to reconcile opposites. We sometimes get glimpses of a larger picture where tragedy works for good. Destructive floods provide fertile land March-April 199Y 217 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited for the future. Enormous fires ravage forests, doing huge damage, but purifying them for luxuriant growth in the future. Pain and suffering at times mature a person and help him or her to grow in compassion and understanding for others. In a striking Greek myth, the infant Demopho6n is placed in the care of the divine mother Demeter, who caresses him, nurses him, breathes on him, and anoints him with ambrosia. At night she places him in a fire to make him immortal. When his mother dis-covers this, she cries out in fear. But Demeter responds: "You do not know when fate is bringing you something good or some-thing bad!" Demeter is giving a lesson in nursing. She shows that motherhood involves nurturing not only in human ways, but also in divine ways. Holding the child in the fire is a way of burning away those el

Issue 53.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1994. ; ChriStian Heritages and Contempora~ Living MAY-J~ !994 ¯ VOIdUME 531 ¯ NUMBER3 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ Fax: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1994 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific libraw clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Sefin Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1994 " VOLUME53 ¯ NUMBER3 contents 326 feature Leadership a New Way: Women, Power, and Authority Janet K. Ruffing RSM explores the Christian concepts of power and the developmental stages which lead to sharing power and to healing the wounds of authority we all bear. 34O 352 life in flux Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark Jane Ferdon OP and George Murphy SJ draw from their experience of spiritual direction to shed light upon some of the darkness experienced by women and men religious. Merging Provinces Gerald A. Arbuckle SM brings insights from cultural anthropology to the process of merging congregational provinces. 364 One Voice from the Middle Place Judith Ann Eby RSM speaks out as part of a new generation which interprets religious life differently from those whose background includes the lived experience of Tridentine Catholicism. 375 life in service Religious, the Laity, and the Future of Catholic Institutions Catherine Harmer MMS suggests that for the good of Catholic institutions it is time for religious to let go of some things and for lay people to take them on so that both groups can act at their best. 386 Being and Acting Holy for Ministry's Sake Clyde A. Bonar proposes some practical ways of being about our one ministry: to be holy. 397 Missionary by Nature William F. Hogan CSC focuses attention upon the essential missionary aspect of every Christian and religious vocation. 322 Review for Rellg~ous life of witness 402 How to Read the Lives of Saints of Old 415 Frederick G. McLeod SJ gives some helps for our understanding and appreciating the richness of meaning found in the lives of saints of old. Prayer Francis J. Ring SJ offers his personal history of praying as a support for all pilgrims in their prayer life. reflective life 420 Even at the Grave We Make Our Song Margaret Bullitt-Jonas explores how three symbols--the crucifixion, the resurrection, and the ascension of Jesus Christ-- came to life as she prayed over her infant daughter's death. 436 A Letter to Dead Parents about Today's Life Eileen O'Hea CSJ writes about her present-day experience of religious life. 440 452 46O religious life in perspective Journeying to God Together Susan Beaudry PM and Edwin L. Keel SM suggest that what religious have to offer the people of God is the experience of the spiritual journey, with its wisdom and skills. Charism as Sonnet: Developmental Considerations S. Suzanne Mayer IHM offers various perspectives on living the charisms of religious life for the dynamic of personal growth. Hispanic Faith and Culture--and U.S.A. Religious Gloria In~s Loya PBVM explains the pillars, of ministry, community, and spirituality .which support religious life in a Mexican-American setting. departments 324 Prisms 467 Canonical Counsel: Directives for the Relationship between Bishops and Religious: Mutuae Relationes 473 Book Reviews May-.lWune 1994 323 prisms E those of us living in the midwestern part of the United States, the spring and early summer seasons bless us with a burst of flowering trees and shrubs and a continuing array of nature's living vari-ety. Obviously all these signs of life are not created out of nothing each year. In fact, the changing seasons remind us of how much life remains hidden from our daily human perspective. Seeds look to be so dry and lifeless. Even in planting them in lawn or garden, we can only wonder about and wait for the activities of life still hidden from our sight. Oceans appear to our eyes as only a huge volume of water, but oceans teem with life--mostly hidden beneath the sur-face- which marine biologists endlessly discover and observe and marvel at. If we buy into the impressions promoted by contem-porary advertising, we find ourselves acting as if what we see is what life is all about. Life as sold by secular culture seems to bankrupt itself in surface impressions. Just how limited such a vision of life is quicHy becomes apparent when we deal with moral and religious issues of human living. Abortion only becomes an option if people keep human life out of sight. Arguments for abortion deal with choices and rights, with nary a thought about the hid-denness of human life. "Ethnic cleansing," whether it be in E~rope, Africa, Asia, or America, is a cosmetic phrase to disguise the deadly idea that some peoples are more deserving of life than others. Put into practice, this deadly idea joins the age-old slave trading, the Nazi concentra-tion camps, and futuristic scientific cloning as another 324 Reviezv for Religious sadly and horrendously narrow human mishandling of human life. For all the words about environment and ecology and quality of human life, we seem unable to reverence the mystery of life-- visible life and hidden life--with which our world abounds. For the young Christian community at Colossae, St. Paul used the pregnant phrase that "our life is hidden now with Christ in God." Perhaps we need to reflect more on the hiddenness of our faith life and thereby come to an appreciation and reverence for the hiddenness of life in general. The fledgling Christian com-munity at Colossae realized that in everyday life they looked pretty much the same as everyone else. They ate, they drank, they sometimes went hungry, they married and had families, they got sick, they died; they had joys and sorrows. They gathered, of course, for Eucharist, and their concern and care for one another and anyone in need did give them some mark of distinctiveness. But overall they lived with a new reverence for life--from the very young to the very old. Why? Because the risen Christ in whom they all were baptized had brought them into a new rela-tionship to God and to one another--a relationship subtle as the Spirit but as real as the risen Christ himself. As Saul (now Paul the writer) experienced and many other persecutors have learned since his day, a voice insists that it is Jesus whom they persecute. We Christians hear Jesus insisting, "If you do it to the least of these, my brothers and sisters, you are doing it to me." We touch here the source of the hidden life we all live in Christ. But Jesus does more than affect the hiddenness of human relationships--whatever tribe or nationality, religious affiliation or secular lifestyle. Because Jesus has taken on the darkness and hid-denness of suffering and death and by his rising joined it into a new fullness of life, the physical world in which we live is not the same as it was. Suffering and death are not just problems to be solved and if possible eliminated; suffering and death, now seen in a wholly new relationship to life in the risen Christ, must also be met with reverence. In the midst of all our necessary human efforts to relieve the suffering in our world, we believers stand with reverence before suffering, lfor we know. with the sureness of faith that because of Christ life lies hidden even in suffering, sometimes especially in suffering. Therein, deep down, like life in winter, lives Christian joy and the root of Christian reverence for life. David L. Fleming SJ May-ffvtne 1994 325 feature JANET K. RUFFING Leadership a New Way: Women, Power, and Authority The FORUS study in its general conclusions identified authority as "perhaps the most pressing question for reli-gious to resolve."' Underneath the question of authority, I find at least two foundational themes which need to be explored--the meaning of leadership in religious congre-gations in light of differing interpretations of power and authority and the specifically religious qualities of lead-ership. As I study the current research on religious life, I continue to uncover the deep ground of grace out of which religious life grows and flourishes. I remain convinced that we cannot hope to understand the reality of contem-porary religious life without probing this depth level of religious experience. The present theological, interdisci-plinary, experiential reflections address such questions as: Leadership for what? VChat obstacles impede our ability to collaborate? Part II addresses questions about religious leadership: How do leaders support the ongoing conver-sion implied as we discover new dimensions of the Christ mystery in our lives and ministries? What ultimately sus-tains us in our calling? "Authority in many U.S. institutions, including reli-gious life, has.undergone deconstruction. Variable under- Janet Ruffing RSM is associate professor in spirituality and spir-itual direction in the Graduate School of Religion and Religious Education at Fordham University. Her address is GSRRE, Fordham University; 441 E. Fordham Road; Bronx, New York 10458-5169. The second part of her article, "If Christ Is Growing in U~," will appear in our July-August 1994 issue. 326 Review for Religious standings of consensus, subsidiarity, discernment, and leadership have diffused understandings of authority. The abuse of author-ity in the past makes individuals reluctant to endorse authority in any way.''2 It is clear from the FORUS study that these differ-ing views of authority and the corresponding understandings of obedience exist within single institutes as well as across insti-tutes. As a result, leadership is sometimes severely impaired in its ability to lead; while in other instances leadership is experi-enced as empowering and free-ing for mission. Authority functions and is understood differently when charism is taken seriously and when governance takes adult discipleship into account. Women religious particularly have been redefining the mean-ing of obedience and authority in ways particularly suited to their awareness of their needs and desires as women. The FORUS study reports that vision groups "view authority as power that is shared among commu-nities of equals,''3 These changes in understandings of authority are related to how such a vision of power and authority and the impli-cations for redefining a vow of obedience appear, to many women to be more compatible with gospel values than does the post- Tridentine version of authority. Women religious as a group, espe-cially at the level of leadership, are pressing for a more enabling exercise of power among themselves. Although religious desire to maintain an ecclesial identity, the FORUS study reports a "lowered respect for the magisterial authority of the church and the U.S. hierarchy in general.''4 According to this study, women are acutely aware of their exclu-sion from leadership by the clerical church. Women religious are looking at church in new ways; they have embraced a clear com-mitment to changing this church. Clerical resistance to this change will further diminish the capacity of women's communities to Apostolic religious women will not fully stabilize nor be able to attract and retain new vocations until ecclesial conflicts about the church's mission and the contribution of religious within it are resolved. NIay-j~ne 1994 327 Ruffing * Leadership a New Way attract the very women who are looking for a public context in society and church that is meaningful for their dedication and service. In my opinion, apostolic religious women will not fully sta-bilize nor be able to attract and retain new vocations until eccle-sial conflicts about the church's mission and the contribution of religious within it are resolved. This includes not only resolving the role of women in the church but also arriving at an operative consensus of the role of the church in the modern world. Religious are in a real sense church people whose mission and identity lie at the heart of the ~hurch's own. The Brooldand Commission Study reported that 94 percent of their respondents named the self-understanding of the church developed in the wake of Vatican II to be a source in forming their ideas about what is essential to religious life.s To the extent that the larger church is ambiEalent about the directions set by the council, religious life will con-tinue to be at risk. In the context of these recent studies which indicate both sig-nificant change and continuing confusion, I will describe the psy-choanalytic roots of our attitudes toward authority, explore several concepts of power disclosed in the New Testament, and reflect on women and power. I will end with the Whiteheads' descriptions of both the developmental stages which lead to sharing power in Christian communities and the necessary task of healing the wounds of authority which we all bear. Formative Experiences with Authority One's basic stance toward authority, those whom I perceive to be "in charge" or more powerful than I, is usually determined by my early experiences with my mother and father and then with institutional authorities such as teachers and other authority fig-ures. This experience forms how I relate to God as an ultimate authority, how I relate to situations of injustice, how I relate to my own authority, and. how I relate to ambiguous authority. (Ambiguous authority refers to that exercise of authority which is usually benign but which is occasionally overbearing or oppres-sive.) If my experience has been one in which authority was exer-cised with genuine love and for my good, I will tend to respect and trust authority. I will creatively participate with authority, and I 328 Review for Religious will feel comfortable being critical of this authority. These responses are based on a sense that persons in authority have benign motives and are both fallible and rational. In other words, were I to present information missing from a decision, that new information would be taken into account and I would not be pun-ished for making a suggestion. Authority exercised with love is neither physically nor verbally abusive, but consistently treats me with respect. On the other hand, if my experience has been one in which authority was not so exercised, fear will be my dominant emo-tional response. I will either conform to the wishes of authority to avoid notice or abuse or I will rebel against it. Neither rebel-lion nor conformity are particularly healthy responses because both are rooted in a feeling of alienation and powerlessness. Authority functions against me and I feel powerless to do much about it. If I rebel, I choose noncooperation. I do not help to change the situation; instead, I may create a separate peace by withdrawing or opposing. If I conform, I do so because I feel powerless. I do not tell the truth but tell them only what they want to hear to avoid conflict. Since I perceive authority to be unloving and irrational, rational discourse cannot achieve any-thing fruitful, so I do not even try. Of course, no one is a pure type, and all usually have had some experience of both forms of authority. But most of the time I inhabit one attitude more than the other. I either offer myself to the process of authority-mak-ing or I withdraw in fear from participation. If my early experience is primarily loving and rational, I will experience God's authority to be for my good; I will recognize and" act against situations of injustice; I will experience my own inner authority and act out of it in nondefensive ways; and I will be able to be critical. I can tell the truth in the face of ambiguous experiences of authority. I can afford to see that a given person in authority has room to grow in the way he or she exercises that authority. New Testament Concepts of Power The New Testament presents two concepts of power. It addresses the way authority exercises power through the behav-ior and teaching of Jesus, and it begins to redefine power as the activity of God in our midst. "Power in the kingdom of God will May-June 1994 329 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way be totally different from power as it is exercised in the kingdom of Satan (the world). The power of Satan is the power of domi-nation and oppression, the power of God is the power of service and freedom." 6 All the kingdoms and nations of this present world are governed by the power of domination and force. The struc-ture of the kingdom of God will be determined by the power of spontaneous loving service which people render to one another. In Mark, Jesus puts it this way: "You know that among the pagans their so-called rulers lord it over them, and their great men make their authority felt. This is not to happen among you. No; any-one who wants to become great among you must be your servant (diakonos), and anyone who wants to be first among you must be a slave (doulos) to all. For the son of man himself did not come to serve but to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mk 10:42-45, Mk 9:35). This teaching occurs in all three synoptics and is par-alleled by the footwashing pericope in John's gospel. "You call me teacher and lord, rightly so--if I your teacher and Lord have washed your feet--so also ought you to wash one another" (Jn 13:14). This is an example of the way power is to be exercised among the disciples--placing ourselves at the service of one another's freedom, calling forth from one another by our exam-ple "kingdom qualities," and releasing the power of the commu-nity in mission. Jesus is very clear about the difference between domination and service. As Albert Nolan says, "The power of this new soci-ety is not a power which has to be served, a power before which a person must bow down and cringe. It is the power which has an enormous influence in the lives of people by being of service to them." 7 Also relevant to this discussion is Jesus' attitude to the law, the power which enabled religious rulers to dominate and oppress. Jesus consistently attacked this abuse of the law. He rejected any interpretation which was used against people. The law was meant to serve genuine human needs and interests. Unfortunately, many fear the responsibility of freedom. We seek the security of a law which gives us prestige and allows us to dominate, or we let others make decisions for us, hiding behind rules, relying on the letter rather than on the spirit of the law. In so doing we enslave ourselves by our fear of freedom, and we deny freedom to others as well. Jesus does not abolish the law, but relativizes it so that we will take responsibility for the sys-tems we create and use them to serve the needs of humanity. The 330 Review for Religious exercise of power and authority in God's kingdom is to be func-tional. It should embody the arrangements that are necessary if we are to serve one another willingly and effectively. Every type of domination and servitude is to be abolished, including religious forms of these abuses. The New Testament also speaks about another kind of power--the power that comes from on high over Mary, the Holy Spirit, who also comes upon the community gathered in Jesus' name after the resurrec-tion. Jesus' ministry is characterized by a release of God's power as he expels demons and heals those who believe. The woman with the issue of blood touches Jesus, and power goes out from him. In Luke, all try to touch Jesus in order to be healed because power emanates from him. When Jesus sends out the disciples to preach, he confers power on them, not to rule but to heal and to cast out demons. Jesus releases in our midst freedom from all that binds us. He heals and forgives sin and invites us to share in this power for good which is the Spirit's action in us. We, as apostolic women, are empowered by that same Spirit. We are called to develop ways of making decisions, organizing our lives, and harmonizing our gifts so that this holy power for mission is released in each of us and in the group as a whole. The disciples had trouble understanding this; they kept mixing up these two kinds of power, wanting to rule and lord it over others rather than releasing the God life to its own ends. Jesus is very clear about the difference between domination and service. Women and Power As women we can often remain confused about these texts and themes. We have been trained in our tradition to be power-less-- to be the servants. Kathleen Fischer puts it this way: "Rhetoric about servanthood has often been used against women, trapping us in subservient roles. As suffering servant Jesus exer-cises power in the service of rglationships,.affirming the dignity and worth of each individual. He empowered others, unlocking their deepest desires and enabling them to use their best gifts."s Women's role in the church has been designated as the subordi-nate one (servants) while others have assumed the positions of May-June 1994 331 Ruffing * Leadership a New Way If we do exercise power unconsciously, we will probably do to others exactly what has been done to us. authority, taking charge, lording it over, and engaging in ritual footwashings while not holding power lightly. As a result, women find themselves oppressed by religious authority and in a posi-tion of permanent subordination. Since power has been a bad word among Christian women, we perceive it as a negative and dangerous reality. Because it is something none of us is to have or exercise, we are therefore often mysti-fied by the use of power in the church and in religious congregations. We do not want anything to do with power, and we may be afraid to exercise it. If we want power, we must be bad. Exercising power in our own interest can leave us feeling selfish, self-destruc-five, or threatened in our relationships. This ambivalence about power and our social conditioning in patriarchal sys-tems create a situation in which we often exercise our power indirectly or unconsciously. Or we may become con-fused and anxious when conflict or struggle comes out into the open. If we do exercise power unconsciously, we will probably do to others exactly what has been done to us. So as not to oppress anyone else as we have been oppressed, we need to understand power differently. We need to see power as a strength and understand how to participate in the healthy use of power. Jean Baker Miller redefines power simply as the "capacity to implement.''9 Expressing power does not need to be coercive or oppressive. Women, however, do not exercise power any better than men unless we become conscious and critical of how and when we express power. The Whiteheads on Power In the American church many men and women, clergy and laity, struggle to reflect critically on their experience of power in ecclesial contexts and to change how that power is expressed. Recent writings by Evelyn and James Whitehead have supported this struggle by exploring gospel understandings of power in the 332 Review for Religious light of the contemporary social sciences. In their work with hun-dreds of teams and in workshops across the country, they found that the single greatest obstacle to collaboration is a mystifica-tion about power along with the inability of many people in authority to share power. The Whiteheads define power and authority this way:l° Authority is the right to command or exercise power in relationship to the goals and values of the group. It is vested in persons (elected leaders) or in offices (specific roles/func-tions). Who or how the "vesting" occurs may be formal (appointment, election, consensus) or informal. But the social group recognizes the function of authority and the process of transferring it from one person to another. Power is the achievement or control of effects. Often it is the ability to produce a change. It may or may not coincide with authority. The Whiteheads continue: It is always present in interpersonal relationships. It is every way of exercising influence over another. One person is always subject to the power of another and no one is com-pletely without power. Power refers to the interactions among us. Finally, they say "power is best. perceived as those interac-tions that both create and threaten human community." According to the FORUS study, it is this definition of power as a resource to be shared that emerges as the dominant view of power among visionary people in religious life. The question remains: How operative is this understanding of power in religious life? In The Promise of Partnership, the Whiteheads consider that one of the primary tasks of religious leadership is to foster the transformation of our experience of power. If religious leaders genuinely exercise power in a manner consonant with the New Testament's understanding, they will use their power to welcome the power of others. They will use their role as leaders to enable those they lead to experience their shared strength in the group. As we mature in personal strength, we experience different modes of power. Early experiences and cultural influences can delay or impede our being comfortable with more mature expres-sions of power. Relying 0n David McClelland's work, the Whiteheads describe four basic orientations toward personal power--receiving power, achieving autonomy, expressing power, and sharing power. ~ May-j~une 1994 333 Ruling * Leadership a New Way Faces of Power Childhood is our basic experience of feeling strong because we are cared for and supported in our growing by our parents. When we are nurtured well, we learn to feel safe in the presence of oth-ers' power. We are empowered by this protection. Feeling empow-ered by others in this way continues into adulthood when we are strengthened by friendship, teamwork, or collaboration. I can feel comfortable receiving care and competence from others, and ][ do not have to rely entirely or only on myself. If I grew up in an unsafe environment, I learned not to trust or I remember depen-dence as demeaning and shameful. Adult experiences can also dis-appoint us and cause us to withdraw, but they are often overcome when we fall in love again or open ourselves again to a new rela-tionship. Autonomy is the strength we have on our own. In achieving autonomy we celebrate our self-reliance and self-sufficiency. Acting on nay own behalf expands my sense of power. Having developed some skills and competencies, I become an agent in my own life. Collaboration depends on my having some basic confidence in my own resources. If I lack autonomy, I will under-mine any partnership through my dependency. However, if I do not learn how to move beyond self-sufficiency, collaboration and openness to outside influence will feel like weakness, for it will imply that my own resources are deficient. Women often have difficulty in achieving autonomy unless the culture in which they function values their self-sufficiency and personal agency. Some religious communities have impeded this development in their members while others have fostered it but have not yet been able to direct this self-reliant energy back into communal projects. Expressing power turns us outward, as we begin to influence others and have an impact on our world. At this stage we feel strong when we influence the world beyond ourselves. A new sense of power stirs when we express our ideas, make demands of others, assume responsibility, take charge, and when others respond favorably. McClelland found that this orientation was prominent among management, supervisors, lawyers, and people in the helping professions. Success in all these fields depends on being able to influence the attitudes and behaviors of others. Personal assertion and social influence are the two particular resources of this power. However, these resources can be dis-played differently. Some express power exclusively in a combative 334 Review for Religious stance of competition with a need to dominate. A leader who feels strong only in this way easily becomes authoritarian. This kind of leader may function effectively in a military unit, but not as well in a helping role or in organizational leadership. !n these roles it is more appropriate to feel power-ful when motivating others, offering assistance, coordinating resources, and helping a group move toward its goals. The shadow side of this abil-ity to influence is dominance and control. Maturity lures us toward still another face of power--feeling strong in sharing power. People at this stage feel themselves to be per-sonally strong and also involved with something larger than themselves. Something beyond self-interest--the will of God, or commitment to a vision--prompts their action. They feel both powerful and empowered, strong both in autonomy and in col-laboration. These people welcome interdependence, the ability to enjoy mutual influence and mutual empowerment. When we work together the power we share increases and enhances my strength. The outcome that emerges from this interplay of interdepen-dence is less mine, yet I feel stronger because something better has resulted. Genuine interdependence is possible only if a significant num-ber of the members of religious communities mature to this fourth level of power. The hierarchical church, in its current exercise of power, shares power minimally. One group is authorized to express power and another group, namely the laity, receives it. If actual partnership is to flourish in the ecclesial community, we need an abundance of religious leaders who value sharing power and who are not threatened by widening the sources of influence. Much of the governance journey in religious life for women has been toward this mode of sharing power. The old way of lead-ership is not capable of fostering the full religious'maturity of its members. A single charismatic leader can function in level three If actual partnership is to flourish in the ecclesial community, we need an abundance of religious leaders who value sharing power and who are not threatened by widening the sources of influence. May-June 1994 335 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way of this schema, but that requires the entire group to submit to that individual charism. I believe the gifts of grace and discern-ment are distributed both more broadly and more abundantly than that. If we truly believe that our charisms live in all of us, that God's spirit releases an outpouring of energy and power, then sharing power is the only style of religious leadership that has the flexibility and openness to engage in the discernment of these movements. Healing the Wounds of Authority The FORUS study critiques dysfunctional religious leader-ship in many religious communities. I understand that much of this dysfunction is a manifestation of incomplete adult ddvelop-ment. For authentic interdependence and collaboration to be pos-sible, those in leadership must be committed to continuing their own development and to fostering the development of their mem-bers. Healing the wounds of authority is often an integral part of the process.12 The Whiteheads describe a continuum of growth in our per-spective about authority. It moves from the perception that power and authority are completely external to ourselves to the percep-tion that we confer authority in partnership with others for com-mon goals. Women in religious life stand all along the continuum. The way authority used to be exercised was coercive. A large part of our individual and corporate journey through renewal has involved deconstructing coercive authority and either avoiding the question of authority altogether (hence not a few resistant women in our midst) or constructing an entirely new way of exer-cising it. Briefly, the Whiteheads portray the function of authority as expanding life, making power more abundant, and calling others to collaborative partnership. However, many of us find ourselves unable to respond to this adult invitation to share power. We per-sist in viewing authority as external to ourselves, with those in authority holding on to power as a permanent and privileged pos-session to be used as they see fit. This kind of authority makes us feel like either children or victims, vulnerable and liable to be hurt when we interact with authority. We project onto our lead-ers impossible expectations, [equiring them to be all things to all people. We treat them as different from us, more knowledgeable, 336 Review for Religious more wise, more talented. Such projection masks our irresponsi-bility and delays our process of maturing. A more mature approach to authority views leaders very much as we view ourselves. We hope they are competent, but we under-stand that they have no special access to wisdom. They, too, are limited, fallible, susceptible to bias and error. No longer something leaders do to us, authority becomes relativized and results in a sense of partnership. Rather than benefi-ciaries, victims, or observers, we become participants with leaders in shaping the best decisions. How do we heal the wounds of authority? Transformation begins, according to the Whiteheads, whenever a crisis causes us to examine behavior that no longer works, whether it he avoidirig authority, fighting it, or trying to win its approval. The process moves through the successive stages of withdrawal, disbelief, self-scrutiny, and authority-making. In withdrawal I recognize that I have put authority outside myself and retreat to an inner place. My external behavior may not change much, hut basically I ignore authority and its claims on me. In the stage of disbelief, I realize that I am more than what authority thinks of me. My sense of self and self-worth no longer depends on external authority. This stage may begin as rebel-lion--" Who says this is the way things are?" I question how things are and think about how things could or should be. I recognize that how things are is often merely the way those in power have decided they should be, sometimes benefiting the leaders more than anyone else. The risk of disbelief is that it can harden into skepticism that rejects all exercise of authority. I can be preoc-cupied with exposing the faults and failings of those in authority when I do not yet see myself as an equal. The stage of self-scrutiny allows me to recognize how I have participated in maintaining coercive authority all along, whether by elevating those in authority, attacking them, or blaming them for things for which I am also responsible. I become able to ask We project onto our leaders impossible expectations, requiring them to be all things to all people. Such projection masks our irresponsibility and delays our process of maturing. May-June 1994 337 Ruling ¯ Leadership a New Way the critical question: When is the influence of external authority-- a leader, a value system, a set of laws--legitimate in my life? A cer-tain level of intellectual and emotional maturity is required in order to respond freely, neither compulsed to negate these demands nor anxious to satisfy a hidden motive. I understand that, as I have contributed to my own oppression, I can participate in my own empowerment. When I can exercise my personal power in response to author-ity both by taking initiative and obeying, I have reached the stage of authority-making. At this stage, I am able to face conflict if nec-essary in the pursuit of a common purpose. This is possible only after I have recognized my prior negative contribution through fear, apathy, or magical thinking. The Whiteheads caution that one cannot wait until this stage is completed; even conscious of wounds and the continuing process of healing, I need to be engaged as a partner in authority.13 The unhealed wounds of authority are frequently the unac-knowledged agenda when leaders and members experience tension between individualism and the common good. Authority will be interpreted and experienced differently depending on the level of healing and the vision of exercising power espoused by each religious. If leaders can encourage communities to begin to heal the wounds of authority and if the majority of the members can endure the pain of growth in this developmental process to become capable of sharing power, our communities will be very different. Both leaders and members will be partners in codis-cernment, as both respond to the ever changing call to be shaped by and to express in life and ministry their shared charism and discipleship of Jesus. According to the FORUS study, outstanding women leaders were extremely active in securing the commitment of the group to appropriate actions or decisions. They used their positional and personal power to influence outcomes, but not at the cost of diminishing the sharing of power in the group. Further they tended "to encourage participation of those they lead, share power and information with them, and enhance their self-worth and energize them." ~4This style of leadership has been pioneered largely by women in a variety of settings as well as in religious life. Clearly, one of the gifts religious women can offer the church is the healing of our wounds of authority and our growth in sharing power, thereby releasing the power of God's spirit in our midst. 338 Review for Religious Notes ~ David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Research Executive Summary: Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22 (24 September 1992): 271. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid, p. 268. 4 Ibid, p. 271. 5 Katarina Schuth, "The Intellectual Life as a Value for Women Religious in the United States," Appendix: Survey, Brookland Commission paper, 16-18 October 1992, 10. 6 Albert Nolan, Jesus before Christianity (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1976 and 1992), p. 84. v Ibid, p. 85. 8 Kathleen Fischer, VVomen at the Well: Feminist Perspectives on Spi~qtual Direction (Mahwah: Paulist, 1988), p. 140. 9 See Jean Baker Miller, Toward a New P~chology of FVomen (Boston: Beacon, 1976 and 1986), for a full discussion of the topic women and power. ~0 Evelyn and James. Whitehead, Emerging Laity: Retm~zing Leadership to the Community of Faith (New York: Image, 1988), p. 36. ~ The description which follows is dependent on Evelyn and James Whitehead, The Promise of Partnership: Leadership and Minist~7 in an Adult Church (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1991), pp. 115-127. ~2 See "Healing the Wounds of Authority," in Promise, pp. 27-36, for the full description of this schema. ~3 It should be apparent that only in these latter two stages of self-scrutiny and authority-making is discernment possible. 14 David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Religious Leadership Competencies," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May-June 1993): 413. May-June 1994 339 JANE FERDON AND GEORGE MURPHY Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark life flux ¯ he renewal of religious life over the past thirty years has generated a series of expected and unexpected results. One of the most puzzling is the persistence of darkness. Despite massive and heroic efforts to update and achieve renewal, many groups and individuals are continually deal-ing with a darkness that nothing seems to dispel. As men and women religious and bishops prepare for the Roman Synod on religious life, people will inevitably both review the transitional years since Vatican II and envision the future. They will gather and analyze data from many different perspectives. We would like to offer the perspective of spiritual direction and our experience of working as spiritual directors with men and women reli-gious.~ Theological, sociological, psychological, economic, political, and cultural perspectives all help in the under-standing of religious life. From spiritual direction we can see how people's experience of God has renewed them and how their experience of darkness, the apparent or real absence of God, has purified or stultified them. People's experiences of God in moments of light, energy, joy, and enthusiasm have received refined attention Jane Ferdon oP and George Murphy SJ are adjunct faculty at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, where they have been directing a practicum in spiritual direction. Their address is Jesuit School of Theology; 1735 LeRoy Avenue; Berkeley, California 94709-1193. 340 Review for Religious and have been deservedly relished. There are encouraging signs of new vitality in religious life: a growing freedom in people, more laughter, a refusal to be victimized, an ability to love and receive affection, a desire to know God more and share with oth-ers how God is present among us. People are taking apostolic risks and are praying regularly and contemplatively. Many are concerned with the poor and with unjust structures. People strive for integrity, some even risking their lives to protest war and nuclear arms. Others give their lives as martyrs, witnesses of God's concern for God's peo-ple. Some are willing boldly to confront evil both within the church and outside it. There are many reasons to hope. It is precisely in this context that we need to interpret dark-ness, both individually and col-lectively, to ponder its impact and to move toward light. The subject of darkness is not attrac-tive. By its very nature it can evoke self-criticism and blame. We intend neither. Our purpose is to portray people's experience and to raise some serious questions for reflection and considera-tion. We are convinced that only by scrutinizing the darkness can we be more free to enjoy the new life and energy in our midst. Then, with courage, we can pass on what we have learned to the next generation of women and men religious. Admittedly, some-times we have neither the strength nor the disposition to deal with darkness. As painful as it might be, we believe that God is calling women and men religious and the church not only to look at the light but also to discern the darkness. Experiences of darkness are only beginning to be probed and 'mined.z Our thesis is that sometimes darkness is holy; God is present and waiting in the darkness. This is the dark night of There are encouraging signs of new vitality in religious life: a growing freedom in people, more laughter, a refusal to be victimized, an ability to love and receive affection, a desire to know God more and share with others how God is present among us. May-.~ne 1994 341 Ferdon and Murphy * Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark senses or of spirit that Teresa and John of the Cross perceptively explored for their times and now needs contemporary examina-tion. 3 Another darkness, however, is unholy because God is not present in the abyss. This darkness is destructive rather than cre-ative. It is the realm of the prince of darkness, a darkness that needs to be named and avoided or robbed of its hold. In prayer as in life many women and men religious have expe-rienced both forms of darkness; but how do we discern the dif-ference? Are some of the more stubborn blocks to the renewal of religious life examples of the power of the unholy dark? Is the future of religious life to be found only in the holy dark? Some women and men religious feel trapped in a dark place, clawing interiorly to be set free, wanting to find a way out of dreary con-trolled maintenance, making work their escape and ministry a substitute for a vital relationship with God. For more than a few, religious life as it is does not satisfy; church life as it is does not satisfy. The experience is one of darkness. One woman religious who had served many years in admin-istration described her experience of darkness this way: There is no doubt that religious life is in transition. Many men and women religious feel something is missing in reli-gious life. We sometimes sense it in liturgies, at meetings, in group assemblies, in discussions. We go away hungry. Something deep within is left unsatisfied. So we try harder, photocopy more papers, quote more authors, add more meetings, review statistics, hire consultants. We multiply information, yet increasingly remain dissatisfied and weary. Deep within we sense something is missing still. We assume it is the times, the culture, the lack of leadership or the apa-thy of membership. Vocations continue to decline. The membership's vitality is diminishing. It is a telling situa-tion. How do we read its message? A male religious who is a college psychologist described his experience: There are signs that religious life is dying or at least seri-ously sick. There are too many unhappy persons, unhappy communities, and unhappy work situations in religious life today. One needn't look far to find depression, codepen-dence, anesthetized feelings, controlled conversations. While one sees many people who work hard, often to the point of burnout, their work has a joylessness about it. No matter how much one does, it seems never to be enough. One sees too many men and women religious who do not 342 Review for Religious have much joy in living. Some clothe their depression with false piety and pious clichds. Others become TV addicts. Some have become drug addicts. They misuse prescriptive medication or alcohol. Many practice massive denial. They think everything is fine or would be if we prayed more or were more cheerful. Few people are entering; some are still leaving or staying because it is too late in life to begin again. Those who stay in religious life are aging. Even our efforts at renewal seem short lived, using bandages and patent medicine. A devil chased out, the house left empty, new devils take up housekeeping.4 If we liken this period of transition in religious life to wan-dering in the wilderness (a "desert experience"), some dynamics become clear. It can be an exodus from what oppresses to what frees, or it can be an endless exile in the wilderness. We must dis-tinguish whether there is movement forward or paralysis. Are we simply wandering in circles? Many in religious life feel an oppres-sion of spirit. What used to work no longer fits the present real-ity. It is a time of letting go, yet there is a fear of losing precious valuables,s We know we cannot go back, yet we have grave diffi-culty moving forward. Perhaps our renewal has not reached the depth of genuine conversion. We may be stuck in a desert place, tired of the journey, helpless in finding direction, and discour-aged about our future. In this desert experience of transition, it becomes critical to notice the difference between honest disenchantment and crip-pling disillusionment. Many forget that disenchantment can be the beginning of a positive experience. "The point is that disen-chantment, whether it is a minor disappointment or major shock, is the signal that things are moving into transition. At such times we need to consider whether the old view or belief may not have been an enchantment cast on us in the past to keep us from see-ing deeper into ourselves and others than we were ready to. For the whole idea of disenchantment is that reality has many layers, each appropriate to a phase of intellectual and spiritual develop-ment. The disenchantment experience is the signal that the time has come to look below the surface of what has been thought to be so.''6 Are we unknowingly prolonging our transition because we fear being disloyal to the past by recognizing some of its limits? Would we rather prolong the exile than move to a deeper level of honesty or confront the darkness? "The disenchanted person recognizes the old view as suffi- May-June 1994 343 Ferdon and Murphy * Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark cient in its time, but insufficient now.''7 The disillusioned person simply rejects the earlier view. While the disenchanted person moves on, the disillusioned person stops and goes through the same play or pattern again. Many in religious life remain disillu-sioned rather than disenchanted. There is no real movement from ending to beginnings. So patterns are repeated. One changes one's ministry, school, or parish and never goe~ through the interior process of ending to begin. There are no good-byes. There is no letting go. A priest takes the "geographical cure" and moves to another university or parish only to be hounded by the same issues and behavior, but with a different cast of characters. A sister switches ministry. She leaves grade school teaching, tries pastoral care, goes away for a renewal program, begins a theology degree, and lands in a parish facing the same internal dynamics only in a different set of circumstances. Disillusionment grows. A sense of failure increases. There are many reasons to be afraid. Our fears can be para-lyzing. The crucial discernment is whether God is inviting us into the dark. If so, what are the indications of God's invitation? The danger is that we just presume either that darkness is a reality or that God is welcoming us into the darkness when neither is true. When God asks us to look at the dark, God will be present with us. God's presence may not make the dark less dark, but God's presence assures us that we are not alone. In the unholy dark, God is not present. We often get preoccupied with negative voices. An accusatory voice convinces us that we must save our-selves, and we know that is hopeless. Evil asserts its fascination. We step into the darkness alone and meet chaos. Frequently this same dynamic asserts itself in prayer. For instance, one fears the God who will ask too much, the God who demands great suffering from those who are faithful. Thus, the focus of one's reflections becomes the possible forms of suffer-ing rather than dialogue with God. The accompanying affect is naturally negative: fear, anxiety, worry, stress. Often there is guilt and a loss of self-esteem: "Why is it I cannot do what God wants?" Notice what is really happening: the person is preoccupied with the anticipated suffering, not with God. Has God asked for suf-fering, or is it what we assume God wants? Moreover, does one then avoid the God who asks too much by evading prayer? Instead there may be a dangerous substitute for prayer: reflection on self and what one is unable to do rather than asking God what God Review for Religious wants or telling God of one's fears and worries. Prayer becomes unattractive, Unfortunately, so does God. In place of evoking the presence of God and feeling the security of an abiding presence, prayer becomes a reflection on one's fears. What spirit led us to this quagmire? As fears multiply and resentments fester, even the desire for prayer fades. Sadly, this desolation can go on for years as one comes to resent the God whom we think of as asking the impossible. Perhaps the question we must ask ourselves both individually and collectively is: Have we lost some-thing of a sacred focus? What if it is a divine focus that is missing? Men and women religious frequently claim that rarely does our conversa-tion reach the level of the holy: the moments when a reverent silence fills us, the sense that God is near, not because of a timeless theological assumption, but because of a present shared experience. Is it this elo-quence of the holy that is missing? Is it this level of engagement we can-not seem to reach? The disciples and our spiritual ancestors bonded and dreamed; they boldly proclaimed God's word because they talked among themselves of their encounters with and memories of the holy. Do we? Are we fear-ful, anxious or embarrassed? What if there is no real experience of God? What if others ridicule what is deepest within? What if one has to admit it has been a long, long time since God and I really communicated, not just through rote prayer or disciplined meditation, but by genuine, engaging talk---listening, speaking, feeling, discerning--earthy God-talk. We assume that something is God's will. Rarely do we wres-tle long enough with God's word to know what God really wants. Often we are unable to identify and face our own deepest desires. It is a frightening business to feel underneath the feelings, to ponder something long enough to get to the root emotion. The irony is that sometimes it is easier to acknowledge the depth of feeling than to endure the tiring mechanisms of avoidance. It is no Often we are unable to identify and face our own deepest desires. It is a frightening business to feel underneath the feelings, to ponder something long enough to get to the root emotion. May-.l~une 1994 345 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark wonder we have lost a genuine spiritual fluency. Perhaps it is a clue to why we wander in circles rather than move forward. Thus we prolong the transition. Moreover, in our frustration we can make another or others the enemy rather than going more deeply into a conscious examination of our primary relationship, our indi-vidual relationship with God. How much time, attention, thought, affect, dialogue, and development does this relationship get in my day, week, month? Is it really primary? If it is not, what is primary and why? Did something get lost? Can it be found, renewed, enlivened? Who got distracted? To borrow again from the exodus experience: Have we lost sight of the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night (Ex 13:21- 22)? As a result, do we turn inward with murmuring, grumbling, and accusation (Ex 14:11-12)? Do we feel the disillusionment and strain? As many older men and women religious explain, "This is not the community I entered." We want to tui'n back, not in con-version but out of reluctance. Perhaps we cannot see what is ahead because our backward look prevents us. A woman therapist who sees many men and women religious observed: "Many religious are desperate: body work, crystals, cen-tering prayer, dance, Eastern philosophy, psychotherapy, twelve-step programs, dream work, even hypnosis and psychics have been tried as means to greater peace. The tragedy is that often the means becomes the primary focus. The divine gets lost in the search; searching becomes an end." We become the doers, for-getting that another is there with us, the one to wtiom we are committed by vows. Then we begin consciously or unconsciously to accomplish our own redemption. The Redeemer is forgotten, not deliberately, not consciously, not entirely, but somehow God becomes a distant figure or shadowy image, definitely out of focus, perhaps a memory. Yet, without this presence and this power, there can be no real vision. No wonder we sense something is missing. Someone might be missing, One without whom we can-not move forward. Individual experiences become the dynamic of the group. Often at community or congregational meetings and assemblies there is a clearly defined role for facilitators so that the group process is efficient and the stated objectives are met. Seldom is the same authority given to the spiritual dynamics operative in any group process where men and women religious gather. At times, the belief that God is everywhere becomes an unconscious cover- 346 Review for Religious up for a lack of the divine perspective or an abdication of spiritual responsibility. It can be a form of resistance too. Is there more fear or more freedom in the group? Are there indications of a holy or unholy spirit? Are these named and identified? Which gets more developed. Why have the spiritual dynamics operative in any religious group not been given equal emphasis? One does not wish to propose false piety: the "God will provide" rationale for avoidance. However, we must be wary of an administrative, eco-nomic, or psychological reduc-tionism. Who watches, identifies, articulates the movements or countermovements of the spirit in general chapters? Is it a con-cern? How much time, discus-sion, reflection, or debate is this crucial factor given? Do we assume that all we do is blessed and good, making discernment unnecessary? Are our governing bodies more task- or discern-ment- oriented? If the former, is this one reason we seem so often to repeat patterns? Do we scrutinize the spiritual implications as carefully as we do the financial ones? Do we endure less freedom by letting outside influences rather than spiritual profundities dictate most of our decisions? Do we leave room for the spirit to speak, or do we simply presume or even pretend that we are all speaking in the same tongue? Do we then consider those who disagree misfits? It is worth remembering that, whenever there is no dialogue, there is a breach of freedom. Of course, one can agree to dis-agree, provided one has been heard--but in many congregations many voices are silent. This silence speaks. Can we listen to the silence? Sometimes we are afraid. Besides, the tasks need to get done. Our social analysis must move on to the next phase. The danger is that the tasks do get done, but not always satisfactorily. The initial peace or relief that the job was accomplished does not bear fruit. Too frequently the very same issues come back to haunt us. That experience demands a refined discernment of spirits, not At times, the belief that God is everywhere becomes an unconscious cover-up for a lack of the divine perspective or an abdication of spiritual responsibility. May-June 1994 347 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark just reworded policies. If we were collectively to allow the deeper issues to emerge from a time of discernment, we might face very different topics in our chapters and assemblies and our spiritual governance. Do we tend to look at what we can control? Often the Spirit will introduce us to what is beyond our control. This can be cause for delight or cause for fear, which can of itself be a grace-filled revelation. In this desert experience of transition, we must check where have we built our altars: what are we worshiping? On the exodus journey there were two collections in the desert. In one God asks the people for gold to build a sanctuary that God might dwell in their midst (Ex 25:1-9). The other occurred because of a long delay. The Israelites became impa-tient with Moses, and so they contributed their valuables towards the making of a golden calf. Where are our valuables going? To discern a group's focus and leadership is not a luxury; it is a mat-ter of life and death. To choose life is to have God dwelling among us. This choice comes out of freedom. To choose death is to cre-ate our own god, to guarantee our own future. This choice comes out of impatience and disillusionment. The first heralds a sacred beginning; the second repeats a sinful ending not much different from the pyramid building that was supposedly abandoned, an apt example of disillusionment's repetition of patterns. God bids "a collection from the heart" (Ex 25:1). Where are our hearts calling us? Can we let go of old ways to begin anew? It is imperative to explore the darkness. If it is holy, then there is a presence in the darkness. We are in a safe place, and there is a reason we have been beckoned there. Perhaps a vision will emerge. If it is unholy dark, then we must flee the desola-tion. The dark mood that many men and women religious expe-rience can be a developing spirituality. It is time to go deeper; even if we must first address fear or reluctance. Nonetheless, there is an attraction or longing. Reluctance can be a form of darkness. Depression can sometimes be a side effect. Whether the darkness is a form of the dark night or a stubborn paralysis of spirit needs thoughtful attention as well as careful delineation. To explore the darkness is not an optional task; it is a spiritual mandate. However much good therapy has done for many men and women religious, it can still become a substitute for intimacy, for community, and even for God. It is a contemporary irony that authority is sometimes given to therapists that would never be given to religious superiors or confessors. If the darkness is pri- 348 Review for Religious marily psychological, then one must use therapeutic tools. But what if the darkness is primarily spiritual and the depression a side effect? Is this issue being sufficiently addressed? There is no doubt about the spiritual side effects of depression, but what about the possibility that the current mood among many women and men religious is a form of spiritual desolation or even a form of consolation that goes unrecognized because of the awful sense of empti-ness? The helps for relieving depression might be quite different from the remedy for desolation. Certainly one wants to pursue ther-apy if the darkness in prayer results from psychological blocks or bio-chemical factors. If this darkness is spiritual desolation, however, then an active spiritual response and practical spiritual directives are called for. If the darkness is an exodus leading to something more, then it is consoling. If it amounts to going around in circles, it is frustrating, purposeless, and diminishing. Moreover, fidelity to it is a sham. Discerning the darkness is not only an individual task, but also a collective one. Depression or darkness of spirit can lead to self-absorption or self-transcendence. To know the difference affects the individual, the religious group, and the church. Therefore, one must figure out the source of the dark mood, the imp behind the affect. To mistakenly endure an unholy dark as a dark night of the senses or spirit is abusive and destructive, not purgative. Darkness's fruits also deserve attention. Sometimes what is most obvious is overlooked. For instance, do we leave congrega-tional meetings or gatherings feeling empty, down, or frustrated? Do we feel marginalized or disengaged? Or is our experience joy-ful and revitalizing? Do we feel closer to God and so awed by the Spirit that our prayer is renewed and our ministry energized? Do most of the members feel the same? Again, do we pause and reflect about and then discuss which spirit seems to be dominating the group? If we are on holy ground, we leave one another's com-pany enriched. Or is something lacking? Despite contact with To mistakenly endure an unholy dark as a dark night of the senses or spirit is abusive and destructive, not purgative. May-June 1994 349 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark friends, and gratitude for companionship and laughter with them, is smnething of the sacred absent? It is essential to name that absence lest we bless what is not holy. Religious life as we have known it may be ending, but what about the beginning? If we have failed to negotiate our own indi-vidual transitions, how can we begin to face the group transition? Do we feel heavily burdened? What must we let go of? In-betweenness does not have to last forever. Prolonging the pain only adds to the interior paralysis or feeling of numbness that all-too-many women and men religious experience. Endings are not without sequels, but unless interior conversion takes place no beginnings occur, only *eactions to endings, whether denial, avoid-ance, defensiveness, escape, or repression. How do we begin again? Do we want to do so? We have to acknowledge our pain and voice it to God. We must feel its hold and then move beyond its control to where we can join in a gathering to celebrate survival and new life. We should not let our moaning and grumbling get misplaced and do harm. Transition is the time to ask hard questions, not only of ourselves but also of God. Have we voiced our pain in prayer? Is God with us? What is God communicating? Is God the focus of our gatherings? Are we more lost than we realized? Are we in relationship with God and also in dialogue? What is God saying to us? Is there something we must let go of?. Transition teaches us to get along with less. It removes distractions. Until we discern the darkness, it has a coercive and discour-aging hold. Like a small cancer it can grow undetected until it is too late to cure. Then surgery will not help. What "cancer" might underlie a perhaps subtle but still debilitating lethargy? Our great-est danger is to become numbly resigned to the someday inevitable death of religious life and then stabilize our fear, misplace our anger, distract our anxiety, and live in denial. Religious life is not meant to be endured; it exists for the sake of celebration now and eternally. Unless religious are free enough to name darkness, can-didly, low-grade despair and frenetic avoidance are bound to grow. People close their eyes and shut down to survive. Involvement, activity, ministry become the substitute for contemplation, not the result of contemplation nor food for it. What is really hap-pening is rarely talked about, and thus power is given to the secret. And those who dare to bring up the subject of darkness are quickly judged to be either critical of leadership or disloyal to member- 350 Review for Religious ship and then marginalized by other people's pattern of denial. When denial dictates, dialogue dies. The prince of darkness is empowered, and a divine focus is missed again. The issue is about neither leadership nor criticism; the issue is about neither membership nor loyalty. The issue is that the divine play of light is being overshadowed. In naming the darkness, we allow the light to play, the ligh~ that would illumine all we do, the light that would lighten our lives and allow us even in darkness to be con-fident because the gentle Presence of Mystery reveals that we are indeed on holy ground. Notes ~ We acknowledge our debt to William Barry and William Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (New York: Seabury, 1982), and to the people at the Center for Religious Developinent; they have had a major impact on our practice of spiritual direction. 2 For a succinct treatment of how darkness appears in directed retreats, see William J. Connolly sJ, "Experiences of Darkness in Directed Retreats," Review For Religious 33, no. 4 (July-August 1974): 609-615. Reprinted in Notes on the Spiritual Exercises, ed. David L. Fleming SJ, (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1981), pp. 108-114. 3 See Constance FitzGerald's "Impasse and Dark Night" in Living with Apocalypse, ed. Tilden Edwards (New York: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 94ff. Sandra Schneiders IHM also develops this theme in "Contemporary Religious Life: Death or Transformation," a paper given in Hartford, Connecticut, in 1992 and presented at a faculty colloquium at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley in 1993. 4 For the viewpoint of another psychologist on some unhealthy dynam-ics in religious communities, see Charles Shelton, "Reflections on the Mental Health of Jesuits," in Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 23, no. 4 (September 1991), and a companion article by the same author, "Toward Healthy Jesuit Community," in Studies 24, no. 4 (September 1992). s It is worth while to review Gerald A. Arbuckle's thesis "that a major reason for the reluctance or hesitation of religious congregations, parishes, and dioceses to attempt renewal is their failure to mourn or ritually detach themselves from that which is lost or no longer apostolically relevant. Energy that should be directed toward creating the future is instead spent on efforts to restore or retain that which is lost or dying." See "Organizations Must Ritually Grieve," in Human Development 12 (spring 1991): 22. 6 William Bridges, Transitions (Reading, Mass.: AddisonWesley, 1980), p. 101. 7 Ibid. May-June 1994 351 GERALD A. ARBUCKLE Merging Provinces "May they be so perfected in unity that the world will recognize that it was you who sent me." --John 17:23 Tdre is a trend within the church today for both institutions apostolates to merge: congregations and provinces of congregations, schools and hospitals. Various pragmatic and inspi-rational reasons are given, such as using personnel and finances more effectively for mission. Yet the actual merging commonly fails to meet expectations because people do not appreciate that mergers demand far more than a rearrangement of administra-tions. The contemporary struggle to unite East and West Germany aptly illustrates the point. When institutions seek to combine, they interact as cultures, and the resulting change is not a bloodless abstraction, but a high order of human drama. This introductory article views, from a cultural anthropologi-cal perspective, the merging of congregational provinces--though the theory applies to any organization. Case studies illustrate the theory, and then I suggest some guidelines for use in practice. First we examine what management studies have learned about the mergers of business corporations. Though religious commu-nities are not businesses, they are nonetheless human organiza-tions or cultures. They can learn from the experience of other human organizations that amalgamate,t Gerald A. Arbuckle SM continues to write, lecture, and conduct work-shops on the refounding of religious life. His address is Refounding and Pastoral Development Unit; 1 Mary Street; Hunters Hill; Sydney, N.S.W. 21 I0; Australia. 352 Review for Religious Lessons from the Marketplace The literature on business amalgamations is filled with dreary warnings about the negative effects of mergers. Management con-sultant Tom Peters concludes that "most studies suggest that, in general, [business] mergers do not pan out.''2 Rather than increased profitability, mergers have come to be associated with lowered morale, job dissatisfaction, unpro-ductive behavior, sabotage, petty theft, absenteeism, and increased labor-turnover, strike, and accident rates.3 Management consultant Stuart Slatter advises that the merger of firms "rarely brings increased effi-ciencies, unless accompanied by sound post-merger management. In fact, inefficiencies may actually increase as . divisive splits develop within the new top-management team as each manager retains loyalties to his of change. former business.''4 James O'Toole speaks of the contemporary stress on business amal-gamations as "merger-mania." He says that "the desire of large industrial bodies to merge is insatiable" and that the purpose and strategies for such actions are rarely thought through.5 Charles Handy warns that organizations contemplating merger are "to some extent stuck with their past., their traditions. These things take years if not decades to change.''6 Some authors wonder if the drive for merg-ers comes from authoritarian, patriarchal values dominant in Western society. These values, they claim, blind organizations to feminine values of creativity, of openness to other ways of coop-eration than formal mergers.7 Overall, most commentators conclude that mergers fail because leaders insufficiently consider the human or cultural dimensions of change. In addition to sensitive leadership there must be, authors claim, a cultural compatibility (or what is termed "culture fit") between organizations that seek to merge. If there is insufficient culture fit, then cultural collisions will destroy efforts to merge organizations.8 Anthropologists agree with these conclusions. But they com-plain that, when management writers (with the exception of peo-ple like Edgar Schein) use the term culture, they fail to grasp the complexity of its meaning. They think culture is what people vis- Mergers fail because leaders insufficiently consider the human or cultural dimensions May-3~ne 1994 353 Arbuckle ¯ Merging Provinces ibly do,9 and they fail to consider what they feel about what they do. People may act in the same way, yet differ radically in their cultures, simply because they do not feel the same about what they do. Feelings (expressed in symbols and myths) are at the very heart of cultures, but are far more difficult to name and control than visible actions. A good many authors--for example, Gerard Egan--see culture as but one of many variables in organizations;1° Peter Senge does not refer to it at all.11 Culture is not one facet of life nor merely what people visi-bly do; rather, it is the complete set of feelings affecting, most often unconsciously, all of a specific behavior pattern of individ-uals and groups. Examples are an organization's interiorized system of authority, its modes of communication, its understanding of mis-sion and stratdgies?z Leaders ignore culture at their peril. People may change with relative ease what they visibly do, especially under external pressure; not so their feelings!13 Anthropology Applied Anyone concerned about mergers of institutional cultures must be awai'e of four fundamental insights of applied cultural anthropology. First, cultures have lives of their own, just as indi-vidual~ do. So we rightly say, for example, that cultures grieve or are depressed, are open or closed to creative ideas. Certainly, individuals influence the life of a culture, but the reverse is also true. Sdcond, any cultural change, even for the noblest of rea-sons, is stressful for the people involved. A culture provides peo-ple with a much needed sense of order or security; it is a defense against the anxiety that disorder or the fear of chaos evokes. When cultures interact this felt sense of security is threatened or under-mined; people feel uprooted, losE, disillusioned, angry, sad. Fears and prejudices about the culture with which they must now inter-act come to the surface. Third, people are likely to resist change for one of two rea-sons: the loss of the known and tried, or concern over the impli-cfitions of personal and group loss. Cultural interaction inevitably calls people to new ways of acting; the familiar must be left behind. Hence, any effort to merge cultures leads to varying degrees of overt or underground resistance. Reactions to cultural change in individuals can build up and then explode in ways that appear totally out of proportion to the provocation of the moment. 354 Review for Religious The resistance has merely been deferred and stockpiled; people finally reach a breaking point and express it dramatically. Fourth, the effort to merge cultures is a highly complex and risky pro-cess demanding the leadership of humanly and culturally sensitive and skilled change agents. Without such help people will so resist the change process that mergers falter or fail. The following axioms sum-marize the practical implica-tions of these four points for leaders of would-be mergers: 1. Appreciate the Complexity of Cultures I explain elsewhere in some depth the nature of culture.~4 For our purposes here, how-ever, culture is a pattern of shared values enshrined in a network of symbols, myths, and rituals and created or devel-oped by a particular group as it copes with life's challenges, instructing its members about what it considers the correct way to feel, think, and behave25 Rituals (that is, visible behavior) are the concrete expression of symbols and myths; symbols are experienced or felt meanings. A myth, a set of narrative symbols, is a story or tradition that claims to reveal to people, in an imaginative way, a fundamental truth about the world and themselves. This truth is considered author-itative by those who accept it. In short, myths inspiringly or feel-ingly tell people who they are, what is good and bad, and how they are to organize themselves and maintain their feeling of unique identity in the world. The most powerful myth in every culture is its creation myth, since it provides people with their primary source of identity as a distinct group.~6 Vv~hen the creation myth's existence is threat-ened-- for example, when major cOltural change is being planned or underway--people experience degrees of anxiety, anger, numb-ness, sadness. Various kinds of creation myths affect people in different times and ways. Three of the kinds can be termed the public, the operative, and the residual myths: Myths inspiringly or feelingly tell people who they are, what is good and bad, and how they are to organize themselves and maintain their feeling of unique identity in the world. May-ff-une 1994 355 Arbuckle * Merging Provinces ¯ The public myth is a set of stated ideals that people openly claim binds them together (like the values inherent in the charism of a congregation); in practice these ideals may have little if any cohesive force. ¯ The operative myth, however, is what actually at this point gives people their felt cohesive identity; the operative myth can and often does differ dramatically from the public myth. ¯ The residual myth normally has little or no daily impact on a group's life, but at times can become a powerful operative myth. For example, a former colonial nation will commonly have a resid-ual myth reminding the people of their former dependency on, or oppression by, a dominant European power. If a member of the former country inter'acts with someone from the latter nation, he or she may experience bitter memories of past colonial relation-ships. Then the painful residual myth becomes the operative myth, creating a climate of suspicion and antagonism. The case studies below illustrate the relevance of the above theoretical clarifications, because .proposed amalgamations of provinces inevitably demand changes in existing creation myths. 2. Encourage "Multicultural" Mergers Mergers are not synonymous with takeovers, that is, the total assimilation of other cultures by dominant cultures. True merg-ers recognize the need for dialogue between equals, so that the best of all cultures is preserved in the new emerging organiza-tional culture. 17 3. Arrange for Rituals of Grieving Change causes loss, and all loss evokes a wide range of human emotions: anger, sadness, guilt. These emotions must be ritually expressed and let go of; otherwise they remain repressed and obstruct change. Since individuals and cultures grieve over loss, these rituals must be personal- and culture-oriented.18 4. Seek Culturally Transformative Leadership Leaders must have skills for guiding people through the uncertainties, anxieties, and risks of cultural change.19 Without these rare people, cultural change of a positive kind is impossible. Case Studies: Merging Provinces Case Study 1: An Overefficient General Administration A general administration decided that three provinces should be amalgamated into one province. No problems were anticipated because 356 Review for Religious the administration believed that the reasons for the amalgamation were obvious to all and that the commitment to the congregational charism was greater than to provincial boundaries. The administration explained to the assembled provincials the major reason for the decision: a better use of human and financial resources for mission. On returning to their respective provinces, however, the provincials, who had been convinced by the arguments given them, were surprised to receive immediate neg-ative reactions from their provinces. The provincial administrations then procrastinated for so long that the general administration finally withdrew its decision, blaming the provincials for their lack of courageous leadership. Comment: The general adminstration's decision may have been theoretically correct, but the process of decision making took no account of the provinces as cultures. The decision to merge, taken without adequate consultation, evoked group and individual anx-iety and resistance because people felt that the operative myths of their provinces, giving them felt predictability, were jeopardized. The general administration wrongly assumed that the congrega-tional charism was simultaneously the public and operative myth. On the contrary, the majority of the religious felt closer bonds to their respective provinces than to the congregational charism. Case Study 2: From Euphoria to Provincial "Nationalisms" Three provincial administrations decided to explore the possibility of merging their provinces. An assembly, attended by as many members of all three provinces as possible, enthusiastically endorsed the idea in a vision statement that highlighted the common charism as the unifying force. Thereupon the provincial administrations quickly planned the formal merger. But to their surprise they later received so little cooper-ation from members of the provinces that they finally dropped the entire idea. Comment: An investigation showed that while the religious were together the public myth (that is the congregational charism-based myth) became the operative myth; they enjoyed being together socially as members of one congregation. However, they avoided the pain of looking closely at what they would have to let go of once the merger occurred; they felt the common con-gregational vision would carry them through. On return to their home provinces, the religious recognized what the merger would cost them, and the support for amalgamation rapidly declined; their respective provincial operative myths were revitalized. Quotations from the founder originally assented to in support of May-June 1994 357 Arbuckle * Merging Provinces the merger were now contradicted by other quotations from the same source. Case Study 3: Fearsof Colonialism Revived An administration of a province in the first world explored the pos-sibility of merging with a province in a third-world nation. It argued that the amalgamation would be beneficial to both provinces. The rich province could supply much-needed money to the third-world province; the latter, having a surplus of vocations, could "export" religious to the former. The proposal was immediately and angrily resisted by the poorer province--to the surprise and annoyance of its richer counterpart. Comment: This case study illustrates that a province's iden-tity or mythology can be influenced powerfully by forces beyond a congregation's internal history. The third-world nation had for over a century been a colony of the first-world country. Members of the third-world province sensed an arrogance in the adminis-trators of the rich province reminding them of the oppressive-ness of the colonial era. They did not want their newfound sense of national self-worth undermined by their receiving financial handouts from the richer province. They also feared that they would be administratively dominated after the merger by people from their former colonial power. In this incident the residual myth of the third-world nation became the operative myth of the province; the latter was prepared to remain extremely poor, but in control of its own destiny. Case Study 4: Fears of "Congregational Colonialism" Revived A superior general encouraged two provincial administrations to investigate the advisability of merging their provinces. The investiga-tion showed that for missionary efficiency the merger made perfect sense. However, the reactions to the proposal were so negative in one province, which had been founded several decades earlier by the other, that the plan was dropped. Comment: This case study is similar to the previous one in that the founding province is equivalently remembered as an arro-gant, congregational colonial power. That memory is the residual myth. The thought of a merger makes the residual myth the oper-ative force for identity and effectively prevents any further seri-ous discussion about merging the provinces. Case Study 5: Ethnic Differences Obstructing Amalgamation A general administration encouraged three provinces in a first-world nation to amalgamate, claiming that three separate administra-tions were a luxury the congregation could no longer afford. However, 358 Review for Religious the provincial administration disagreed, claiming that one adminis-tration could never adequately serve the large geographical area involved. Nonetheless, the merger did administratively take place, but the new administration was confronted with previously unforeseen personnel problems. For example, religious resisted requests to move to apostolates across the former provincial boundaries. Comment: The merger was failing, not for geographical rea-sons, but because the provinces were historically formed along ethnic-migrant lines: Polish, Italian, Irish. The cultural preju-dices of last century surfaced once the provinces were adminis-tratively united; that is, the residual myths became the operative myths for a significant number of religious descendants of the original migrants. If people had been involved in the develop-ment and follow-up of the merging, this critical issue would have emerged and been positively worked through. Case Study 6: Merger Plans Successful Three provincial administrations agreed with an outside consul-tant that from a mission perspective it. was essential for their provinces to amalgamate. They consulted all re.embers of their provinces, and most favored the merger. Once the merger decision was finally taken, the provincial administrations sought professional advice on how to pro-ceed. The merger was done in stages over a seven-year period, accord-ing to frequently evaluated strategies. As part of the merging process, all apostolates were assessed for their pastoral relevance and effectiveness in light of clearly stated criteria. Because all members were invited to be part of the merging and evaluating processes, negative reactions were minimal and the ownership of the changes was at a high level. Comment: In this case study the following actions guaranteed success: culturally s6nsitive leadership, aware that in-depth culture change is a slow process; professional assistance in clarifying the vision of the merger and in developing appropriate strategies; the maximum involvement of members of the provinces in all stages of the merging. Advice to Congregational Leaders The following advice is offered to congregational leaders in view of the above theory and the analysis of the case studies: 1. Clarify the Vision and the Strategies for Mergers. The primary aim of any merger of provinces must be to make the religious congregation better able to serve the needs of the May-.~une 1994 359 Arbuckle ¯ MergingProvinces kingdom of God. Thus, congregational leaders must ask ques-tions such as the following: Is the merger apostolically justified, or is it just a way to maintain existing apostolates without evalu-ating them for their apostolic relevance and effectiveness? Are there better ways, than through amalgamation, to achieve the desired effects of a merger? 2. Involve Members throughout the Process. Organizational amalgamations demand cultural change. Any cultural change, to be effective, is slow and risky, requiring as wide an involvement of members as is possible before, during, and after the formal merger. In order to own the new identity people must feel they are realistically contributing to its development. Congregational leaders, therefore, must ask themselves questions like: What structures will best encourage the maximum involve-ment of members? Are the most-skilled cultural-change agents being used to facilitate the process? 3. Foster Group and Personal Conversion-Grieving. Liminality is the cultural betwixt-and-between position which develops when a previous founding myth and its structural or political expressions have terminated, but a new creation myth has yet to be clarified and owned. It is a painfully dangerous stage of grieving because people feeling intense loss are sometimes tempted to retreat back to the old, comfortably secure ways of doing things. The journeying of the Israelites in the desert, with all its temptations to retreat to Egypt and to blame Moses for their miseries, is an archetypal experience of liminality. Moses, confronted by the Israelites' bickering, pettiness, and anger, rec-ognized that, for the people's grieving to be positive, they must have the space to name their anger and sadness in order to let these feelings go in faith and hope. Only then would the Israelites, freed from their attachments to the past, be open to receive the new creation stoW that Yahweh had for them.2° When provinces decide to merge, religious are invited to enter into the liminality of the desert journey. The old provincial creation mythologies must be let go of to allow the creation myth of a new province to emerge and be confidently owned. Congregational leaders, like Moses, must do two things: (1) encourage the religious to share the stories of their provinces with one another, together with their feelings of grief (anger, numbness) over the loss of the predictability that membership in their respective provinces had given them, and (2) call the religious 360 Review for Religious to help shape in hope the vision or founding myth of the new province. It is a call to an ongoing process of personal and cor-porate conversion. Conversion cannot be hurried, but without it .the merging of provinces will fail. 4. Utilize Cultural Change Agents and Consultants. Change agents assume the responsibility for managing the merging process. They are transformational leaders who under-stand objectively the tensions involved in the process, have acquired personal skills to cope constructively with personal and cultural change in their own lives, and are able to foster with empathy a positive approach in others to changes. In the merging of provinces, such people are needed at all levels: as congregational lead-ers, ritual-grief directors, creators of new and relevant provincial structures for mission, and so forth. Because culture change is so complex, it is advisable for con-gregational leaders to seek the advice of consultants at key points in the merging process. The con-sultant's task is to collaborate with those entrusted with the merger in developing "an understanding of the way things are, thinking about the way they might be, and then working with [them] to consider what, how, and whether to change.''2~ The consultant cannot be effective unless he or she has well-developed cross-cul-tural skills.22 The human person is a striver who yearns for progress and is theoretically open to change. But the human person also has basic needs for order, stability, and predictability. The human person is achievement oriented, a striver who yearns for progress and is therefore theoretically open to change. But the human person also has basic needs for order, stability, and predictability. Applied cultural anthropology highlights the fact that, though people may in theory accept change, in prac-tice they commonly opt for the familiar and secure status quo. May-~:une 1994 361 Arbuckle ¯ Merging Provinces This has important consequences for congregations when provinces are encouraged to merge. In the face of declining numbers and the aging of religious, we must not see the mergers of provinces as the automatic panacea to our problems. We need to be: (a) as certain as possible that the merger will improve the congregation's apostolic effective-ness in accordance with its founding vision; (b) aware that merg-ers require, besides mere managerial action at the top, ongoing personal and cultural conversion, or else, like the Israelites of old, religiou~ will resist the changes and hanker after the security of former, apostolically irrelevant provincial structures; and (c) aware that in mergers one province does not take over other provinces, but all are equal partners in establishing a new province to serve the Lord better. Ultimately, without skilled leadership there can be no positive merging of provinces. Edgar Schein warns: "What the leader most needs is insight into the ways in which culture can aid or hinder the fulfillment of the organization's mission and the intervention skills to make desired changes happen . Leadership and ~ulture management are so central to understanding organizations and making them effective that we cannot afford to be complacent about either of them.''z3 Provinces, like all cultures, are unwise to attempt the process of amalgamation, if they lack the necessary leadership. Notes ~ See C. Handy, Understanding Voluntary Organizations (London: Penguin, 1988), pp. 2-23. 2 Thriving on Chaos (New York: Mfred A. Knopf, 1987), p. 7. See also the evaluation of European mergers in The Economist (London), 20 November 1993, pp. 16f. 3 See G. Meeks, Disappointing Marriage: A Study of the Gains from Mergers (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977); S. Cartwright and C.L. Cooper, "The Psychological Impact of Merger and Acquisition on the Individual," Human Relations 46, no. 3 (1993): 327-329. 4 Corporate Recovery (London: Penguin, 1984), p. 245. s Vanguard Management (New York: Berkley, 1987), pp. 258, 250. 6 Handy, Understanding, p. 95. 7 See G. Morgan, Images of Organization (London: Sage, 1986), pp. 210-212. 362 Review for Religious s See S. Cartwright and C.L. Cooper, "The Role of Culture Compatibility in Successful Organizational Marriage," Academy of Management Executive 7, no. 2 (1993): 57-70. 9 For example, see T. Deal and A. Kennedy, Corporate Cultures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate Life (Reading, Massachusetts: Addison- Wesley, 1982), p. 4. 10 See his Change Agent Skills in Helping and Human Service Setting (Monterey: Brooks/Cole, 1985), pp. 277-287. 11 See his Fifth Dimension: The Art and Practice of the Learning Organization (New York: Doubleday, 1990). 12 See E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture and Leadership (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987), p. 314. ,3 See S.A. Sackman, Cultural Knowledge in Organizations: Exploring the Collective Mind (London: Sage, 1991), pp. 16-23; J. Hunt, "How People Get Overlooked in Takeovers," Personnel Management (July 1987): 24- 26, and "Managing the Successful Acquisition: A People Question," London Business School Journal (summer 1988): 215. ,4 See G. Arbuclde, Earthing the Gospek An Inculturation Handbook for the Pastoral Worker (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1990), pp. 26-78, 167-186. ,s I have modified the definition by E.H. Schein in his Organizational Culture, p. 9. ,6 See G. Arbuckle, "Mythology, Revitalization and the Refounding of Religious Life," Review for Religious 46, no. 1 (January-February 1987): 14-43. 17 See A.E Buono and J. Bowditch, The Human Side of Mergers and Acquisitions, (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1989), pp. 134-163. ,8 See P. Marris, Loss and Change (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1974), passim; G. Arbuckle, Change, Grief and Renewal in the Church: A Spirituality for a New Era (Westminster, Maryland: Christian Classics, 1991), pp. 151-156, and "Organizations Must Ritually Grieve," Human Development 12, no. 1 (1991): 22-27; D.M. Noer, "Leadership in an Age of Layoffs," Issues and Observations 13, no. 3 (1993): 1-5. 19 For a fuller explanation of the leadership needed, see G. Arbuckle, Refounding the Church: Dissent for Leadership, (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1993), pp. 98-127. 20 See G. Arbuckle, Change, pp. 151-156. 21 E. Miller, quoted by R. McLennan in Journal of Enterprise Management, no. 3 (1981), p. 251. 22 See Arbuckle, Refounding, pp. 213f, 217. 23 E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture, pp. 320, 327. May-d~une 1994 363 JUDITH ANN EBY One Voice from the Middle Place In the matter of human existence the grave and sensible advice of the King of Hearts--"Begin at the beginning" -- cannot be heeded. We have no choice but to begin where we are; and where we are is the middle. It is not given to us to stand on the far side of human time and then, with all delib-eration and grace, to enter . Our first awareness is that we are swimming. We wake in the water. Our beginnings are not wholly our own. Our endings will most likely be beyond our control. We are middle people.~ MmY reflection upon my own journey in religious life draws e to this quotation from John Shea. My entrance into religious life in 1976 was certainly a beginning. I was twenty-one, full of energy and enthusiasm as i entered this new world. Several years later, though, one event was to etch into the core of my being the awareness that I had really entered into a "middle place," a transitional moment in the life of religious communities. After final vows I attended a large assembly of my regional community where the question was asked, "Shall we plan for our future?" A resounding yes echoed immediately, logically, and enthusiastically in my being. Simultaneously an unusually intense session of debate, frustration, and dialogue began in the larger group. After what seemed to be an eternity, the group came to unanimous agreement to plan for the future and spontaneously sang the song of our foundress. Clearly, something significant Judith Ann Eby RSM is a doctoral candidate in the Department of Theological Studies at Saint Louis University. Her address is 4133 Hartford St.; St. Louis, Missouri 63116. 364 Review for Religious had taken place. I also understood for the first time that there was a dimension of the community's corporate journey of which I had no understanding. No matter how much I could intellectu-ally grasp their journey, I would never experientially be able to understand part of their lives. Although not the first of such events, it was certainly the clearest one to signal that, at some moment in time, the commu-nity had stepped into an obviously challenging world and world-view different from a former one. I now shared their new world with them. However, there seemed an almost invisible boundary which prevented me from understanding this former world that still played itself out in their collective consciousness. This invis-ible boundary seemed to be not only the actual experience of Vatican Council II, but the experience of pre-Vatican II religious life. Boundaries which mark the end of one period and the begin-ning of a new one in the life of any community or individual can be arbitrary and theoretical. While it is true that many such boundaries could be named, one moment or event often stands out as a clear crossing over from one world into another. For those within religious life at the time of the council and for those who entered near that time, Vatican II was a watershed experience. For better or for worse, life was never again the same. Joan Chittister comments on this reality: For most communities, updating has been the project and process of religious life for 25 years. Clothing has been con-temporized; schedules have been adjusted to compensate for the invention of the light bulb; internal structures have been brought into sync with the best in organizational plan-ning; individual development has been tested by the most recent and most credible of psychological theorems; theol-ogy programs have progressed far beyond the thinking of the medievalists or the Scholastics; community customs books have been amended to meet the nature of contem-porary life. Every dimension of religious life has been scru-tinized and updated. Most of religious life is definitely not in a time warp any more, at least not if relevance is mea-sured by life styles and learnings.2 The renewal after Vatican II was a crystallizing experience which united a number of different age groups around a new interpretation of religious life.3 This focal experience, it must be emphasized, embraces the formative influence and memory of May-~'une 1994 365 Eby ¯ One l~oice from tbe Middle Place pre-Vatican II religious life as interpreted in light of the council. For more than twenty-five years, changes from the council shook the church and religious communities to their roots. Ways of thinking, ways of being, and ways of acting, an entire collective consciousness of a group, were evaluated and reshaped. It is a subdued statement, indeed, to say that such a vast alteration from one world into another has profoundly affected and continues to affect those who were part of religious life at or near the time of the council. A good number of members still form opinions, beliefs, and attitudes in response to the crystallizing experience of Vatican II. Often this leaves them less likely to understand and sympathize with the ideas and beliefs of those who came well after the council and for whom Vatican II is not a watershed expe-rience. This is not necessarily due to a lack of goodwill, yet there is a tendency for one group to judge the worldview of later age groups as misguided or immature. All worldviews are necessarily limited and contain blind spots not easily recognized by those who hold those views. One question slowly emerges from pondering such a vast alteration and its effects on those in religious life: What of those who entered religious communities years after Vatican II? What has been the experience of such members? Much has been writ-ten about the experience of those who entered religious life before and during the time of the council. Other than some articles on formation, little has been written about the experience and from the perspective of those members who remember Vatican II vaguely or not at all. Some members know only the transitional time of religious communities. My hope is to raise a single voice from this middle place so that it may be heard and contemplated and allow the reader, for just a moment, to stand in the shoes of one who has known only the period of transition and to glimpse religious life from a van-tage point relatively rare within communities. The limitation of this essay is that it is a single voice only. Its strength is that it describes a particularized experience that can be known and touched on a human level. There are several assumptions upon which this essay is based. The first is that arbitrary categories of age and experience are not meant to be divisive or to cultivate a we-they attitude. The realization is deep: we are one, many though we are. The focus on newer or younger members and their perspective is not to deny 366 R~view for Religious or diminish the legitimate experience of others. Categories do not have to be mutually exclusive. What is always of uppermost importance is the vitality of the whole group, not of any age group or of any individual. The main issue is not whether we are grow-ing older, fewer, and poorer as a total community, but whether we are growing in wisdom and clar-ity, conversion and gratitude. The second assumption is that congregations as a whole are often unaware or forgetful of the reality that a minority voice is being lost: the voice of the newer or younger members. Newer or younger members, while known individually and usually well-integrated into the larger community, are corpo-rately invisible and often unheard. They do not necessar-ily possess the same opinions, beliefs, or worldviews because great diversity often exists in terms of age and experience. Generalizations about any age group or category are simplistic at their best and crude at their worst. Many who have known Vatican II have moved to new and cre-ative developments very much in line with the renewal of the council while the thinking, beliefs, and actions of many newer or younger members is stale, noncreative, and full of fear. What is suggested here is that the experience and renewal of religious life resulting fro.m Vatican II continues to exert a formative influence upon a significant number of members while the richness and diversity of an exceptionally small population is being lost. Yet in this group are those who will be the leaders well into the 21st century. Middle places imply an ending and a beginning as well as a continuity with what went before. The human experience of end-ings and beginnings will often be bittersweet and both dark and light. Such has been my journey within my own community. It is these experiences of darkness and light, characteristic of tran-sitional moments, as well as the continuity that I want to articu-late. Congregations as a whole are often unaware or forgetful of the reality that a minority voice is being lost: the voice of the newer or younger members. May-.t~une 1994 367 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place The church and world I knew while growing up was one of constant change. Everything was in flux: the saints, liturgy, sacra-ments, music, religion class, celebrations of church feasts, parish customs, and more. Change was experienced as normal, expected, and part of what it meant to be church. The religious life I entered was in a time of transition and experimentation. It was a world defined more often by the past than by any communal vision of the future. By the time I entered, the initial hope and enthusiasm surrounding renewal in the con-gregation was beginning to give way to fear, anger, agonizing searching, split factions of liberal and conservative groups, and a cancerous doubt. Mary Jo Le.ddy ~peaks of this middle place: At this point in the history of religious life, we are in an in-between moment, a "dark night," when the former mod-els of religious life are disintegrating and a future model has yet to become clear . As the memory and vitality of this conservative model begin to fade, some of the energy and legitimation of the liberal model begin to wane. Those who have a vivid memory of the traditional model of church and religious life seem more clear about the value and sig-nificance of the liberal model of religious life. But does the liberal model make sense in itself, that is, without refer-ence to the more traditi'onal model? There are those who, like myself, never knew the traditional model or never knew it for very long. We know the liberal model was launched from the base of traditional religious life, but we are begin-ning to wonder whether there is enough fuel in the liberal model itself to take it very far. To use another metaphor, we are beginning to feel that driving a liberal model of reli-gious !ife is like driving into the future through a rear-view mirror.4 My inner experience of enthusiasm and belief in religious life often came up against contradictory elements in the community. A few of the major examples focused on the expressions of doubt, grief, and anger in the community. Doubt can be a creative ele-ment. Indeed, it is often a necessary companion on any mature journey of faith. However, the doubt I encountered was often a cancerous doubt that could eat into the core of one's being. It was often disheartening to come up against, time and time again, such cancerous doubt within many members. Grief, usually unresolved grief, was also a major issue for many in the community. It was not unusual for me to become an object of unresolved grief and anger over some former aspect of 368 Review for Religious religious life that had not been sufficiently mourned by the other. As a newer member I stood as a symbol of all that had passed away, of all that was new and unsettling. Grief, doubt, and anger intermingled in various degrees to produce within some people what I experienced as death-dealing statements. Such statements are expressed as a sigh of grief, of loss, of anxious uncertainty toward the future on the part of countless members. They are uttered in the midst of the hus-tle and bustle of life, at com-munity meetings, at times of election and moments of deci-sion, moments of reflection. The private and public acknowledgment of personal experience can be necessary for overall health. Yet it must be remembered that, for those who come at times of transition and do not share the same under-standing or knowledge of a community's history, verbal expressions can take on a particular significance. Language can shape our reality, tell us who we are and who we want to be, can uplift or demolish. A word, once it is spoken, can take on a life of its own; it can have the power to bring about that of which it speaks. At the middle places, when doubt reaches crisis proportions, language is of tremendous significance. Language, in this instance, reflected both lack of vision and lack of credible vision among the members. For older members can often communicate mixed signals to enthusiastic newer or younger members and cause a frequent cri-sis of meaning for them. It is odd but not unusual that entry into any group will always involve the unconscious or conscious assimilation of the larger group's attitudes about some things. Declining numbers was one crisis with which I had to deal. There is a basic difference between the exodus I experienced and the exodus others experienced in the 1960s. When I look ahead of me, I see lots of numbers. When I look around me, I see a handful, and we are the younger mem-bers. Around the time of final vows, I had to come to terms with Grief, doubt, and anger intermingled in various degrees to produce within some people what I experienced as death-dealing statementsl May-j~une 1994 369 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place this unconscious assimilation of the crisis of numbers. Even today, though, at moments of weakness, fatigue, and real honesty, fear can reach into the core of my being, and I begin to wonder if I will be the last one through the door. Other times, often at commu-nity gatherings, I look around the room and wonder, figuratively speaking, what it will feel like (other things being equal, which they will not be) to bury all those older than I. Numbers can still overwhelm me. Middle places, by their very nature as endings and begin-nings, possess not only elements of darkness, but elements of light as well. As a newer or younger member, I received the best of all that the community had to offer--which was possible because of all that had gone before me. Many of the community's resources of time, finances, personnel, and talents were shared with me. The best of the community's continually growing self-awareness in terms of charism, history, and spirituality encircled me. It would merely be redundant to enumerate these many experiences, work-shops, and activities, since the majority of members are already familiar with them and have themselves participated in many of them. Perhaps I had greater freedom in personal choices and deci-sions than the majority of members had upon their entrance and for a good por.tion of their religious lives. I had greater flexibil-ity in forming relationships with people both outside community and inside. I experienced great exposure to different areas, groups, cultures, and ministries in my regional community. Barbara Fiand SNDdeN, in her book Living the Vision (New York: Crossroad, 1990), discusses the dark side of this high mobility and the exces-sive amount of stress related to it. As one who lived this experi-ence and whose number of moves around my regional community exceeds the example Barbara Fiand gives on page 148, I can well attest to what she says. She does not connect to this mobility the reality that newer or younger members would be more easily exposed to the cancerous doubt of which I spoke earlier. Today I and others who have stayed in religious life perceive our com-munity as larger than the local area in which we live. We are usu-ally well-integrated into the larger community in terms of knowledge, experience, and relationships. Throughout my years in religious life, it has not been uncom-mon for other members to say to me that they do not understand why "we" stay. I suspect these are comments of frustration, despair, 370 Rewiew for Religious lack of hope, or just plain bewilderment. They are comments indicative of middle places where lack of clarity, direction, and insight plague us all. Middle places, besides containing elements of darkness and light, are also by their very nature places of continuity. The con-tinuity is in the interiority. At the time I entered my community, differences were everywhere in terms of clothes, experiences, and theologies of the vows and reli-gious life, in spite of the renewal of Vatican II. The time of forma-tion for me involved excessive mobility and excessive exposure to all of this. After a long process of ¯ sorting through the externals, I found connection and identifica-tion through the interior. This exposure brought me to the real-ization that times were different, details were different, but the essence of the story was the same. Grace had invited me into the deeper myth of religious life. I can speak for no one but myself when I say that the deepest connection I was able to encounter and perceive in others was the experience of religious life as the deepening of one's greatest life and freedom in a journey with the Divine. I would suspect that all newer or younger members who have been in religious life for several years can appreciate, if not marvel at, the journey of those who have been here before us. I have found numerous women whose journey through pre- and post-Vatican II times has demanded much of them. The journey of these women reveals a depth of discipleship and commitment that mine could never rival. These women are part of my congregation and of other congre-gations; some have long been part of my journey and some are recently a part. Some were part of my journey for a time, a sig-nificant time. Some are with me in a new way beyond the bound-aries of space and time. Growth and transformation are profoundly connected to courageous, faith-filled women who show that "a journey with God is the only real source of satisfaction there is, All newer or younger members who have been in religious life for several years can appreciate, if not marvel at, the journey of those who have been here before us. May-June 1994 371 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place and a life of freedom, no matter how demanding, the only life worth living." s My view is necessarily limited. I merely offer a glimpse of a few of the experiences which could be characteristic of one who has known only this middle place in religious life. And this mid-dle place, too, is necessarily limited. Sandra Schneiders, in her critique of Mary Jo Leddy's book Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model, gives a good description of the general experi-ence of members who were a part of religious life before Vatican II and those who entered just as the council closed:6 Leddy vividly describes the symbolic malaise, lack of cor-porate vision, tenuous sense of belonging, identity confu-sion, and ministerial disarray that is obviously the experience of some religious, notably those in Leddy's own genera-tional cohort. These religious, now in their forties, entered religious life just as Vatican II closed. Religious congrega-tions, with the permission of the council, began a period of wide-ranging experimentation which left formation pro-grams suspended in mid-air between the collectivist identity that was being repudiated and a new identity that had not yet emerged. The corporate resources of religious life enjoyed by their older sisters were not transmitted to these new members, nor did they have the experiential realiza-tion of the dysfunctionality of much of the older system of religious life which fueled the renewal zeal of professed members. Thus, they could not rely on the deep roots of shared history, symbolic cohesion, and corporate identity as everything began to change simultaneously. Nor could they invest with passion in reforming a life they had never lived. Schneiders goes on to state that part of the significance of Leddy's book lies in the dialogue initiated "between those who lived religious life before the council and those whose experience of this life is almost totally postconciliar." This dialogue is impor-tant since a new generation has emerged today which interprets religious life very differently from those whose background embraces the lived experience of Tridentine Catholicism. My hope is that such a dialogue may be initiated. Newer or younger members are often isolated geographically from one another and lack opportunities to connect with one another. They can easily have a different perception and interpretation of reli-gious life because of differences in culture, generation, and a host of other experiences. Such connection could allow shared dis- 372 Review for Religious cussion of situations and concerns that are unique to newer or younger members. Energy could be channeled into discussion of a vision for the future. Congregations need to become aware of the importance of encouraging and providing financial assistance for structures that facilitate connection, reflection, and analysis among the very members who will carry into the 21st century the depth and dynamic of religious life. There is a tremendous significance in encourag-ing and supporting opportunities of this nature for newer or younger members whose dialogue among themselves can then lead to greater creativity when in dialogue with the larger congregation. This type of connection is not, in and of itself, exclusive. It does, how-ever, allow analysis and reflection which can never go on in larger com-munity gatherings simply because newer or younger members tend to be overwhelmed by the concerns and issues and by the sheer numbers of other members. Congregations as a whole rarely can articulate the dreams, hopes, stories, and experiences relative to newer or younger members. It is a simple fact that newer or younger members often constitutes a minute percentage of any congregation. The newer or younger members' analysis and reflection pre-cede the synthesis with the larger group that they hope ultimately to accomplish. To arrive at a communal vision that will animate and give energy for the future is a primary effort of many religious congregations at this time. Such a communal vision will come with a mixture of risk, wisdom, courage, insight, and pain. Many communities like my own have embraced a new creation, a new moment in their history. Most assuredly, we will be held account-able for choices made, choices not made, choices which will affect not just religious life but the church itself in years to come. Even so, we are invited, individually and corporately, to the awareness that "our own carefully laid plans and world orders should never be regarded as more reliable than the unsystematic reality of God's presence and grace."7 Congregations as a whole rarely can articulate the dreams, hopes, stories, and experiences relative to newer or younger members. May-June 1994 373 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place Notes ~John Shea, Stories of God (Chicago: Thomas More Press, 1978), p. 11. 2 Joan Chittister OSB, "Religious Life and the Need for Salt," Religious Life Review 30 (November/December 1991): 284. 3 See Patricia \¥ittberg SC "The Problem of Generations in Religious Life," Review for Religious 47, no. 6 (November-December 1988): 906, 907,908. 4 Mary Jo Leddy, "Beyond the Liberal Model," Way Supplement 65 (summer 1989): 47. s John A. Sanford, The Man Who 12Vrestled with God (New York: Paulist Press, 1981), p. 100. 6 Sandra Schneiders, review of Mary Jo Leddy's Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model in Spirituality Today 42 (winter 1990): 368, 369. 7 Letter of Administrative Team of the Sisters of Mercy of the Union on 19 May 1991 to membership. Paradox Blosso~n-t~othered branches Of whitethorn trees Showing no wood And so full of the hum Of honey-heavy bees Seem to say to me That I should not Register such emptiness In the presence of such plenty Leaning fragrantly down to me In the final days of May. And I say: There is no should! I am a tree Made wood by my winter; Seasons that oppose Are two opposing goods Where envy may not enter To destroy the gift Of paradox. Bernadette McCarrick RSM 374 Review for Religious CATHERINE M. HARMER Religious, the Laity, and the Future of Catholic Institutions Many Catholics have grown up with the assumption that Catholic institutions, especially schools and hospi-tals, are a normal and permanent part of the landscape. Whether or not their children attend either parish or pri-vate Catholic schools, whether or not ~hey ever use the local Catholic hospital, it takes only the hint that these will be closed to cause a great stir. A second common assumption is that the religious congregations who founded and maintained these institutions will continue to do so in the future. Yet these institutions are more at risk now than ever before. Most of the Catholic institutions in this country had their origin in the last century. The parochial school sys-tem developed out of the concern of 19th-century bishops to maintain the faith for the immigrant populations from Catholic European countries. What has become the largest private health system in the country started very simply with religious sisters caring for the sick .and the poor in their homes. The hospitals built and run by their con-gregations were a response to a need to provide profes-sional healthcare in a Catholic setting. For the most part the organizers, builders, and managers of Catholic insti- Catherine M. Harmer MMS has worked as a psychologist in consultation with religious congregations and health systems in Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the United States. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. life in service May-June 1994 375 Harmer ¯ Religious, the Laity, and the Future tutions for educationl health, and social services were religious sisters, brothers, and priests. Even in the parochial school sys-tems, the bishops depended on the ~isters and brothers to provide the teachers and administrators, and to do so at little cost to parish or diocese. This work of founding and developing the major Catholic institutions, private, parochial, and diocesan, was an immense gift of religious to the church in the United States. Initially they served the immigrant Catholic population. As the years went on, the Catholic contribution was recognized beyond the boundaries of the church, especially in the field of healthcare. Given the social and political status of lay Catholics in the 19th and early 20th centuries, it is doubtful if they could have provided either the impetus or the skill to build these institutions, though their finan-cial contributions were the base for all of them. There is no ques-tion that establishing the institutions was a good thing for religious to do. The question today is whether they can or should continue t.o put as much into them now and in the future as they formerly did. Over the last twenty-five years, there has been a steady decline in the numbers of sisters and brothers, and a steady rise in their median age. During the same period, out of necessity rather than choice, the number of lay people in Catholic institutions has also risen. The cost of maintaining the institutions has increased, par-tially because of salary and benefit increases for the lay staff. In healthcare the potential decline of Catholic-sponsored hospitals was delayed, first by the Hill-Burton funds made available for building and then by the increased availability of third-party insur-ance, Medicare, and Medicaid. The decline of Catholic schools started earlier because there was little financial aid for them except occasional foundation grants. Efforts to acquire tuition credits or direct state support for Catholic schools continue to fail. In many dioceses the future of Catholic schools, even the parochial ones, depends on the ability of the parishes to maintain them independently of the diocese. Thus, only in the wealthier parishes can Catholic schools con-tinue to exist. Even these will last only if the priests and parish-ioners are willing to see fairly large proportions of their income go to the school and if parents are willing to pay increasingly higher tuition. There is the clear possibility that the Catholic school system will gradually disappear through attrition, with 376 Review for Religious only a few schools remaining for those who can afford private education. Creative efforts have been made by congregations. They have involved greater numbers of lay people in their institutions, main-taining sponsorship of the institutions and control over their mis-sion so as not to lose the congregation's charism and values. Particularly in healthcare there have been mergers of different types, from full takeover of one system by another to the collabo-ration of two or more systems forming a new system. Still, while the presence of religious in the institutions continues to decline, the number of lay women and men at high levels of management and in board positions grows. Lay members of the institutions find themselves attracted

Issue 52.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1993. ; re lig oIJS C~stian Heritages and: Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1993 . VOLUME 52' ¯ NUMBER 2 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone:314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ~.Vashington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $ l 5 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. 01993 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Corm PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1993 " VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 2 contents 166 feature Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government Mary Linscott SNDdeN clarifies the interrelati6nship of leader-ship, authority, and religious government in the development of religious life up to the present. 194 202 213 220 226 evangelizing The Meaning of Evangelization Today Janice McLaughlin MM suggests that in the light of her experi-ence in Africa evangelization involves us in a process of change and choices which turn us upside down. Broken African Pots and a Mission Spirituality Mario I. Aguilar SVD proposes that African pottery making pro-vides a model that fits our need for spiritual fulfillment and the j3resence of God in our lives. aging in christ A Spirituality of Aging Michael D. Moga SJ invites the elderly to explore a spirituality well suited for their final years. Soul Making and Life's Second Half Anne Brennan CSJ and Janice Brewi CSJ encourage people in mid-life and beyond to open themselves to the fullness of their inner lives. Life Review, Families, and Older Religious James J. Magee DSW offers a model of life review for older reli-gious to modify their own anxiety in the face of family issues and to help other family members also to work with the issues. 162 Review for Religious 236 238 241 living religiously Hope in Loneliness James Martin SJ searches the emptiness of loneliness and finds space for God and others. Thoughts from Death and Life Vera Gallagher RGS offers a personal reflection on dealing with a serious diagnosis of illness. May I Love You, Lord John Patrick Donnelly SJ provides the first English translation of a psalm-prayer composed by the fifteenth-century Dominican Girolamo Savonarola. 247 259 275 283 visioning religious life Galile£n Perspectives on Religious Life Anne Hennessy CSJ suggests that the sometimes blurred focus on the person and message of Jesus Christ can be helped by a Galilean perspective. Religious Life in Nigeria Today Mary Gerard Nwagwu gives a summary picture of the various forms and influences of consecrated life now common in Nigeria and their influence on society. I Have Kept Faith: Clare of Assisi Karen Karper PCPA highlights some incidents in Clare's spiritual growth and the approval of her religious rule of life. report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1992 Kenneth Davis OFM Cony reviews the various events and writings in the Catholic Hispanic experience. departments 164 Prisms 304 Canonical Counsel: Common Life 311 Book Reviews March-April 1993 163 prisms a~tican Council II is frequently described as a watershed event in the history of the Catholic Church. Certainly through our eyes now and even in its actual hap-pening the council was one of those precious creative moments which take place randomly, but consistently, in our human affairs. Just as consistently, creative moments are followed by a period of consolidation. A common example (perhaps too easily caricatured) from the history of religious life is the creative action of St. Francis of Assisi in calling forth his gospel-based mendicant group and the later consolidation efforts of Brother Elias to establish solidly this ideal in a lasting community form. Some would term the present period in the Roman Catholic milieu a period of consolidation. As evidence they would point to the promulgation of the Codes of Canon Law for both the Latin Church (replacing the first Code of 1917) and the Eastern Churches (the first for-mulation of a Code). The publication of the new Universal Catechism is another piece of evidence for a consolida-tion movement. With the 1994 Synod of Bishops sched-uled to consider consecrated life, there appears to be a completing of the review of all the groupings which make up the People of God. Consolidation periods lack the euphoria and excite-ment of the creative moments, but they are just as impor-tant if life is to keep its direction and to flourish. We may have a fear of consolidation movements because they seem to represent a rigidity and to forebode an age-long immutability. Others of us may too readily desire consol-idation as a way of returning to the way things were, of rejecting a certain period of time as an aberration. 164 Review for Religio~s Consolidation, after a period of creativity, is meant neither to set in stone the present reality nor to throw aside recent history and return to a fixated tradition. Consolidation is meant much more to be a plateau where gains and losses are assessed, directional lines reviewed and discerned anew, and energies replenished for the continued journey forward of this pilgrim people. Although we have frequently used the word transition to cap-ture these times for our church and for religious life, perhaps more pointedly we might now use the word consolidation. For example, the FORUS study published in our last issue provides religious life with a consolidation document. Religious groups would be using it without serious thought or reflection if they were to reject the legitimate and church-expected experiments of these past decades. Consolidation works only when there have been some creative moments preceding. Without creative moments, life--any life, religious or other--weakens and faces death. That continues to happen to lifeforms throughout our planet and, more pointedly, may be happening to some religious congregations at this time. On the other hand, without consoli-dation creative moments are only ephemeral and their energies dissipate to exhaustion. Consolidation is necessary for true growth and sure direction in continuing the movement so that we can focus our energies for the New Evangelization of our time. Consolidation remains just as necessary on the micro as on the macro stage, that is, in our everyday life as well as in the large-scale reflections which we have been making about religious con-gregations. Too often we can pass by the efforts necessary for a consolidation review in our own individual-lives and our living together. Why do we live the way we do, why do we do the works we do? How is this related to my and our love of Jesus Christ and what does it have to say about the evangelizing quality of my and our works? These simple questions are necessary as we look towards the solid future of religious life. David L. Fl.eming SJ Marcb-Atrril 1993 165 MARY LINSCOTT Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government feature More than twenty years ago, in 1969 and 1970, I attended two meetings in St. Louis which were a turning point in the history of the Conference of Major Superiors of Women in the United States. Various developments ensued, one of them being a change of name from Conference of Major Superiors of Women (CMSW) to Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR). In this case the rose by another name did not immediately smell as sweet. The then Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes (SCRIS), which had to approve the change, was reluctant to do so on the ground that it involved more than a matter of simple terminol-ogy. The Language and the Reality For the congregation, "major superiors" and "leader-ship" were not synonymous terms; the use of the one for Sister Mary Linscott SNDdeN is a former superior general of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur and a former president of the International Union of Superiors General (UISG). She has worked in the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL). This article is the somewhat shortened text of a talk which she gave in April 1992 to English-speaking superiors and councilors general in Rome and which appeared originally in UISG Bulletin 89. 166 Review for Religious the other could create confusion and even lead to changes of a more ~ubstantial kind, notwithstanding the likelihood that the sisters intended the words to denote the same reality. (We have to bear in mind that the change of name for the conference in the Uiaited States coincided with the reaction against authority which followed the special chapters of renewal and with the beginning of considerable modifications in the structures of religious gov-ernmerit. Moreover, the national conferences [or councils or unions] mandated by Perfectae Caritatis §23 and Ecclesiae Sanctae §42 and §43 were to be of major superiors, both for men and for women.) At all events, SCRIS felt that the substitution of "lead-ership" for "major superiors" could raise problems in an area where clarity was needed. Pc mission for the change came only after long reflection and on condition that the interpretation of the name was in accord with the provisions and intention of the Second Vatican Council. After twenty years the use of the word leadership in documents other than constitutions and directories has become quite widespread. We are used to headlines in our congregational pub-lications: "Province X Elects New Leadership" or "A Report from General Leadership." In some institutes "leadership group" has replaced "team" to denote sisters serving according to the con-stitutions at different levels of government. The usage seems to be mainly in the English-speaking world. Unless the word leaders is ~dopted without translation, as it is occasionally by French- or Spanish-speaking sisters, the concept which it expresses is usu-ally paraphrased or simply implied. For historical reasons the Italians avoid duce and the Germans fiibrer. The French always have responsable to fall back on. In English writing, however, there is a rather frequent use of leader and leadership. Over the years, what has happened to SCRIS's initial diffi-culty about religious institutes' use of the word leadership? A first remark ~hould be, I think, that the distinction of meaning made after 1970 still obtains. Leadership is a charism, a spiritual real-ity given freely by God to individuals for some special purpose in a community; authority in religious institutes is a canonico-juridi-cal as well as a spiritual reality. The two, therefore, are not syn-onymous and not interchangeable. Second, there has been a period in which popular writing and parlance about religious life have tended to avoid the word authority. Instead the term leadership was used but given much of the content that belongs to author- March-April 1993 167 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government ity. This produced some confusion that weakened religious gov-ernment at all levels, but especially the local. In a third phase, more recently, we have had a certain clarification along this line: that, while leadership and religious authority are indeed different and distinct, they do not have to be in conflict, and in fact both are needed for good government. In this clarification some understandings have emerged which I will use for the purposes of this paper. With regard to leadership, wider and more immediate communications, the influence of the international institutes, and the cumulative effects of structural renewal have all helped to bring out the .concept of leadership as a personal gift in its own right. It is a charism expressed in per-sonal qualities which inspire respect, trust, following, sometimes enthusiasm. Since it depends on the qualities of a person, lead-ership is an enduring gift, not something assumed for a certain time and laid down at the end of a mandate. It is not conferred or limited by constitutions, and it cannot be legislated. It does not go with any given responsibility, and in itself it is no more account-able than any other charism. It derives, not from external cir-cumstances, but from inner sources, and it is linked much more with what a person is than with what she does. Leadership is found in many spheres other than government. It exists quite apart from authority. At the same time, the lengthening experience of renewal and the revision of the constitutions have pointed up the need for other elements besides leadership for the effective running of a religious congregation: functional government structures and clearly invested religious authority are essential. Religious author-ity, like that of the Lord from which it ultimately derives, involves a certain power, but it is power as service and for the sake of the mission. Such authority goes with the vow of obedience and is conferred for the achievement of the goals of the congregation: the spread of the gospel in and through the unity, growth, and service of the sisters. Necessary for the religious institute as a human organization, religious authority is also ecclesial in that it derives from constitutions approved by the church. Since it is attached to an office, it is an authority of status. It is given for a specified period to persons duly appointed or elected within the limits of the constitutions and church law. Religious authority has to be accountable. It is personal but not exercised in isola-tion. It can be legislated and must be provided for constitution- 168 Re~iew for Religious ally. It is assumed on a specified date and is laid down at the end of a mandate. It relates to what a person does and to what her responsibilities are, rather than to what she is in herself. Of itself it neither confers nor presupposes leadership, though leadership qualities are obviously desirable in a sister exercising authority. Government is a matter of duly chosen individuals inspiring, directing, and admin-istering with a.uthority the affairs of a con-gregation according to its spirit and sound traditions and according to church law and its own. Of itself government gives a lead, and in a religious congregation it is a con-crete expression of the charism acting to attain the congregation's purpose. I would say that these recent clarifications are helpful. Leadership, authority, and government are now seen as distinct from each other but closely .related in complementarity and all of them necessary for the healthy functioning of religious life. There are difficulties only when they are confused with each other, when one or other of them is not working properly, or when any of them tends to dominate the remaining two. I propose to look at the three elements in interrelation from two different angles. The first is historical. As phenomena in reli-gious life, leadership, authority, and government have come into being at different times in response to different needs, and in the course of history they have had different emphases. A look at their roots and evolution may help us to see better where we are at present with regard to them and may give us some ideas for future direction. The second angle is contemporary. Later in this article I will share with you what a surv4y of sixty approved con-stitutions seems to tell about leadership, authority, and govern-ment in congregations across the world today. The two angles will bring together the past and the present in view of the future. Where does religious government come from? The Phenomenon Where does religious government come from? Perfectae Caritatis §2a says: "Since the final norm of the religious life is the following of Christ as it is put before us fn the gospel, this must be taken by all institutes as the supreme rule" (see canon 662). It was the desire to follow Christ with greater liberty and to Marcb-/lpril 1993 169 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government imitate him more closely that prompted men and women from very early times to practice, in various ways, the evangelical coun-sels (see PC §1) and thus live the gospel radically. As the great persecutions of the early church came to an end, many persons gave gospel witness by withdrawing into the desert and under-taking heroic acts of self-denial and penance as a substitute for martyrdom. Their life was a combat with the forces of evil, whose last stronghold was the wilderness. The call was often solitary, but among those who sought God in the desert there were inevitably some who were experienced and some who were begin-ners, renowned persons and those who were unknown, persons sought out for advice and guidance and those who still had a lot to learn. Without any structure, when there was as yet no orga-nization that required formal authority and government, a kind of leadership based on competence, personal qualities, and experience in the ways of the Lord brought into being some very personal relations between teachers and disciples. The earliest elements of religious leadership may be here: persons together seeking God's will and ways, with the gifts of the one at the service of the other and both persons helped towards the fullness of a Christian vocation. The living of the gospel was still the supreme goal and rule when, in the face of the decline of the desert type of life and because of the changes brought about by the barbarian invasions of western Europe and northern Africa, people grouped together in a more stable manner. Once there was grouping, some kind of agreement, however simple and loose, was necessary for order and peace. In this is the first seed of religious government. Humanly speaking, there would be leaders for the sake of unity if for no other reason. Once grouping was a stable way of life, the leader would usually be the one who founded the group, who accepted followers to form the group, and who contributed most to shaping its way of gospel living by example, prayer, teaching, and organization. It would be up to that person to ensure fidelity to the accepted way of life, to lead in the deepening of spiritual values, to give direction, to ensure viability. Everything would be geared to the gospel as the purpose of the group's existence, )nd the founder would lead in virtue of an authority of competence recognized by the members and by the church. This stable way of life affected the church both locally and universally. The stability of vows, the public witness of life, 170 Review for Religious required contacts with church authorities, especially the local bishop. There had to be the possibility of representation. Moreover, basic though the gospel was, no founder ever felt it sufficient simply to put the gospel text into the hands of his or her religious. The way of living out the gospel in any given congre-gation was expressed in a rule or constitutions usually drawn up by the founder and always approved by the church. The fact of liv-ing vowed life together, therefore, created human, ecclesial, and theological conditions that required the service of some member or members to the others in a way that fostered spiritual values, unity, fidelity to the founding bond and spirit, discernment of direction, links with the church, correction, spiritual and material provision, viability. Such responsibilities could not be undertaken without some kind of authority within the group itself. We there-fore find the elements of religious government coming into being as founders, who by the fact of founding showed qualities of lead-ership, accepted the responsibility of directing their religious fam-ily and each of its members towards the agreed-upon goal of the gospel by a service of authority recognized by the church. This service of authority was still needed in succeeding gen-erations, and for the same reasons as those which first prompted it. Once the founding generation was gone, however, the choice of members who would exercise authority was less obvious. It was not that there were no religious who had the competence, but rather that none had the unique claim of the founder. Loyalty, support, and obedience were given to the member who was duly elected or appointed to exercise authority, and with that there came into being an authority that could be apart from that of competence: an ex officio authority derived from role or status. The Evolution before the 19th Century All this needed considerable time to evolve, and it took on different patterns and structures according to the different charisms which it expressed. Moreover, it developed as new forms of religious life came into being to meet the needs of successive times. The first appearance of religious in the form of monks and monasteries was a spontaneous phenomenon in the church, a free action of the Holy Spirit, but by the 5th century their random multiplication had become such a problem that the Council of March-April 1993 171 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government Chalcedon (451) established the requirement of episcopal per-mission for the founding of a monastery and made monks subject to bishops. It was recognized, however, that the community of monasticism required a certain independence in internal matters. Religious government, therefore, came to have two aspects, inter-nal and external, both involving authority. Over a long period the image of episcopal authority, which of its nature is hierarchical in the church, to some extent colored that of religious authority. Certainly the balance between the degree of freedom necessary for internal affairs and the submission to the bishop, which was equally necessary for the good of the local church, was a feature of canonical legislation for religious for centuries. The great founders and reformers somehow found ways to handle both the internal and external relations of religious government. Internally, St. Benedict, father of western monasticism, respected the whole community and united it around the abbot under the discipline of the Rule. Authority, leadership, and government came together harmoniously in his provisions. Externally, in centuries after his own, there were problems over necessary relations with bishops and civil rulers. When Benedict's work was refounded in the Cluniac and Cistercian reforms, Cluny managed to be subject neither to king nor to bishop. It was one of the first of a system of exemptions by which the evolution of religious life was handled. After the desert and the monasteries, both of which types of religious life continue today, a third period with new needs was that of the mendicants. Here the pattern of life was no longer the stability and close unity of the monastery, but instead the diverging travels of friars who went about preaching the good news, begging their way, and giving to the poor. They belonged to a more fluid community often located in a town that had been revitalized either by a growing medieval university or by the com-merce that followed the Crusades. In pursuit of the same gospel ideal as the monks and the desert dwellers, the mendicants orga-nized their lives differently. They did not have stability in Benedict's sense. Their forms of leadership and government had to suit their kind of public witness and the flexibility of their out-reach. The religious whose authority and responsibility for the whole group would parallel those of Benedict's abbot were sig-nificantly given different and suggestive names: guardian for the Franciscans and prior for the Dominicans. With the age of discovery and reform, new forms of religious 172 Review for Religious life, those of the apostolic orders, were the response of the Holy Spirit to the mission opportunities in newly discovered conti-nents and to the theological and educational needs nearer home. Religious life in the Latin church, still very much a European phenomenon, needed people like Francis Xavier, Jean de Br~beuf, and Junipero Serra to carry it to India, Japan, and the Americas. This out-reach in itself was a challenge to structures of government. The pio-neer missionaries were often at great distances from their original commu-nities. They were inevitably few, at least at the beginning, yet they were an important growing point of the institutes to which they belonged. They needed good leadership quali-ties themselves and a considerable del-egation of authority. The kind of religious government that was strong primarily at the local level did not really match their gift. There had to The Jesuits in their government heightened both leadership and authority and gave a new importance to what would henceforth become general-level administration. be support from a higher level where the overview of everything could unify the various local endeavors and thereby achieve a par-ticular witness to Christ. Not by coincidence is the general supe-rior of the Jesuits called the praepositus. Exempt from immediate episcopal control so as to be free for papal mandates, the succes-sors of St. Ignatius had to combine leadership by competence, which was vital, with the authority to inspire and administer a far-flung apostolic enterprise while strengthening the service given in pastoral, social, and academic fields in Europe. The Jesuits in their government heightened both leadership and authority and gave a new importance to what would henceforth become general-level administration. The Evolution after 1800 With the cataclysm of the French Revolution came various needs which were met by the most recent type of organized reli-gious life: institutes dedicated to works of the apostolate. Although by no means all of these are for sisters, the period since the Marcb-April 1993 173 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government Napoleonic Concordat of 1802 has been marked by an extraor-dinarily high proportion of women's foundations. It is on these that I now focus. Very many institutes of sisters came into being as the response of the Spirit to the needs created by the industrial revolution, the successive waves of emigration from Europe to the new world, the opening up of Africa and Asia, and the series of revolutions which swept Europe from 1789 to 1848. They were founded not only to live the gospel themselves and to witness to it in a society that was mainly one of believers, as many previous religious had done, but also to be Christ the teacher or healer or shepherd or apostle of the Father, in ways specified by their founding gifts, in a society which was increasingly post-Christian and material-ist. Their vocation was apostolic, and the government they needed had to provide for apostolic mobility, with its requirement of cen-tralization as well for effectiveness at scattered locations as for unity and corporate direction throughout. They needed their own internal authority. As for leadership, it became clear as time went on that leadership gifts of many different kinds were required for the effective service of these institutes, particularly in areas of the apostolate which involved specialization. A new responsibility for sisters exercising authority was the fostering and harmonizing of these leadership gifts among the members for the unity of the whole and for better service in mission, even though in this case leadership was not related to government but to the apostolate. The governmental needs of the new institutes with regard to centralization and internal authority were not at first easily met. We have to remember that, during the century before 1901, sis-ters in institutes dedicated to apostolic works were technically not recognized by the church at all. It had been the ecumenical councils which determined and enunciated the church's provi-sions regarding religious life, and in the early 19th century the lat-est of these was still the Council of Trent. Trent had made a serious effort to tidy up a very complicated situation according to the signs of its own times. Three years after the close of the coun-cil, the decree Circa Pastoralis (1566) had stated the basic law of the church for religious, summarizing the canons of Lateran IV (1215), Lyons (1274), and Trent that referred to them. According to Circa Pa.storalis, religious were members of the church living a common life with solemn vows and cloister. All orders which were not exempt were subject to the local bishop. By 174 Review for Religious implication, therefore, members of groups which did not have solemn vows or which were not cloistered were not religious, and .they were subject to the local bishop without full internal reli-gious authority of their own because .they were not among the exempt orders. Institutes of sisters dedicated to apostolic work lived and served as religious, looked like religious, had the goals of religious, and gave the witness of religious while having sim-ple vows, little or no cloister, and a different way of living life in common from religious who were in accord with Circa Pastoralis. They needed an internal authority similar to that of the exempt congregations and for reasons like those of the apostolic orders. Actua.lly, the praxis of the church was ahead of its legislation in the 19th century, and both pontifical approval and the approval of several far-seeing bishops cleared the way for institutes of sisters. In 1900 Leo XIII, in Conditae a Christo, anticipated what was an evidently necessary change in church legislation~ He opened to religious groups with decrees of praise the formal right of cen-tralization under a superior general with real, personal authority throughout the institute. This recognized sisters in institutes ded-icated to works of the apostolate as re!igious in their own right: a third kind of entity with those conforming to Circa Pastorali's and with th~ exempt clerical orders. The recognition was' welcome, but it could not of itself erase the long experience of ambiguity, which was the only one that most institutes of sisters knew at first hand. Authority and gov-ernment were the issues on which the matter of recognition was solved, and both were associated with the image of the local bishop. Leo XIII followed up Conditae a Cbristo in 1901 with a set of norms which were a blueprint for the future Code of Canon Law (1917). The sisters updated their constitutions in the light of .,both documents; and, perhaps because in terms of religious life the autonomous government of institutes of sisters as a reality canon-ic~ lly recognized and supported was something relatively new, both a.uthority and government structures loomed large in the revisions. Great attention was given to new structures, especially those of provinces and general chapters; roles were spelled out in considerable detail. Time would bring out what this implied and how it would work out in practice. Of the three elements leader-ship, authority, and government, attention concentrated on the last two, which were concrete and could be legislated, even though the previous image many institutes had of them did not necessarily March-April 1993 175 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government reflect their founding charism, but was colored by the rightly hierarchical character of the authority of the local bishop. Leadership was either taken for granted or channeled into apos-tolic enterprises. These sociological traits be~zame even more marked as the pressures of works and of professionalism came to bear on institutes in the mid 1950s. The Situation after Vatican II Less than fifty years after the Code of 1917 came the mandate of the Second Vatican Council to renew religious life according to the criteria of the gospel, the founding charism, and the signs of the times and to revise constitutions and directories in accord with this renewal. To make sure that the renewal actuaily took place, every institute was to celebrate a special general chapter within a period of two or three years. The chapter had excep-tional authority for this one occasion and was to be prepared with the widest possible involvement of all members of the institute. In the case of sisters dedicated to works of the apostolate, the timing of the conciliar mandate was critical. It came at a histor-ically ripe moment. The educational movement of the 1950s, the communications explosion of the 1960s, the influence of the human sciences, the authority crisis, and the development of fem-inism were only some of the elements which affected the way in which sisters tried to reexamine totally a life which they had taken very much for granted. They worked under pressure of time, with no precedent, technically unprepared, but with very much good-will. Inevitably, the sisters went first for adaptations: concrete changes which could be seen to be done and where change was clearly necessary. These involved structures and processes, plan-ning, participation, the Vatican Council's principles of subsidiar-ity and coresponsibility, the insdtute's style of life, and a review of apostolic works and resources. As sisters came to grips with these things, new leaders of a charismatic or natural kind--"born lead-ers"-- began to emerge. Their competence might be a particular professional field or an ability to communicate or the capacity to articulate well a personal vision for the future of the institute or a good grasp of dynamics. Whatever their gift, these leaders often came to the fore at the expense of leadership based on authority and experience of government. The membership of general chap- 176 Review for Religious ters from 1967 onwards was of a different composition from those which went before, and the influences on government and author-ity were consequently different. There was less experience of gov-ernment and more creativity; less hard information and more "dreaming" in the positive sense; less his-tory and more sociology; less theology and more impact from the human sci-ences. It all needed to be balanced out if it was to produce good religious govern-ment. A time of struggle, confusion, and emotion, however, is not the best time for balancing, and the difficult 1970s and early 1980s did not allow time to evaluate objectively what was happening. Nor was it possible to have the distance necessary for objectivity. The individualism of the period produced leaders in plenty, but not a similar number of sisters willing to accept responsibility. At the same time, various forms and degrees of resistance to authority made religious government very difficult. Expectations were not clear, and it was far easier to raise questions than to find constructive responses. All the while, people were aware that the overall num-bers of sisters were declining, that departures were frequent, that needs were multiplying and not being met, and that religious life was a microcosm of a church and world which were also in flux and seeking their way. In all this how did leadership, authority, and government fare? They were much-discussed topics in renewal, and it is in the con-text of renewal that we have to see them. Renewal involves inter-nal change. It causes us to interiorize and make our own--here and now, as individuals and as communities--the teaching of Jesus as it is lived in accordance with the charism of our religious insti-tute. Renewal affects beliefs, relationships, values, commitment, attitudes, and zeal. It determines how we live and serve, and it involves a conversion that is corporate as well as personal. Being basically interior and spiritual, renewal cannot be brought about simply by legislation. It needs the example and personal influ-ence of leadership, which i~ of its nature an agent of internal change. But leadership in religious renewal has to be enabling, Being basically interior and spiritual, renewal needs the example and personal influence of leadership, which is of its nature an agent of internal change. Marcb-April 1993 177 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government helping sisters renew themselves and their institute by consis-tently proposing the gospel goal and ideal and by encouraging involvement, conviction, and commitment. Such enabling lead-ership is increasingly seen as necessary today. It is not in excess supply, for it requires an unusual blend of Christlike poverty of heart and inner freedom and at the same time strength, empa-thy, and clarity. It is ~ charism and, as such, cannot be conferred ex officio or be legislated as a predictable and controllable part of government. Yet without it even the most clear-cut exercise of legitimate authority does not succeed in changing fundamental attitudes and values, whatever it may do to outward forms. The very fact that leadership is neither predictable nor con-trollable from the point of view of legislation means that it needs a balance which can be predicted, controlled, and legislated. The balance is authority. In the years after the Second Vatican Council, the balance afforded by religious authority was significantly down-played, largely as reaction to the authoritarianism in the precon-ciliar years and also because of the trend towards greater participation. Pa~'ticipation, however, does not remove the need for authority, and authoritarianism is an abuse which can be reme-died without touching the principle o.f authority itself. If no chan-rlels of legitimate authority are provided, one of two things seems to happen: either (1) the group crumbles from within because there is no commonly acknowle.dged center, no one has respon-sibility at the corporate level, and each sister has to go her own way, interpreting her religious life to the best of her ability; or (2) some sister emerges as a leader without religious authority, either by fo.rce of con.viction or natural gifts or charism or plain per-sonal aggressiveness. In either case the important value of re!igious obedience gets lost. Yet it is through religious obedience that we understand religious authority, and it is the two of them together that create the unique relationship in which a properly autho-rized leader can enable sisters to grow, not in passivity and not in external adaptation only, but in an active collaboration which make~ for joy and greater fullness of life. Religious government, therefore, needs both leaders.hip and authority and needs them together. Authority wi'thout leadership can become an insecure and heavy-handed exercise of power. Leadership without authority can lack sound direction, responsi-bi! ity, and accountability," making for disturbance rather than for peaceful growth in the Lord. Structures of government somehow 178 Review for Religious have to harmonize the two. Authority is usually provided in struc-tures at general, provincial, and local levels that maintain personal authority balanced by councils, chapters, and assemblies according to particular traditions, and that indicate an unambiguous line of accountability. Leadership, which cannot be legislated so directly, is implied in statements about the charism, spirit, and vision of the institute, in the qualities required in sisters exercising author-ity, and in the details of responsibilities and job descriptions. Moreover, it has been characteristic of the structures of religious government that authority is not exercised in isolation, nor should it be exercised in a way that creates a gap between those exercis-ing authority and those accepting it. This last point is a matter of style rather than of structure and is as much a challenge for teams and groups, even when the respective responsibilities and rela-tions are well spelled out, as it is for individuals. The revision of constitutions has led to some solid rethinking in the whole area of leadership, authority, and government. As we have seen, the theme goes far back in the history of religious life, and the strands intertwine inextricably, like differently colored ply in a length of wool making a single thread. Sisters today are certainly clearer on the issues than they were at the turn of the 1970s. All the same, we are never free from the responsibility of asking ourselves: (I) Has the basic function of leadership, author-ity, and government in religious life changed? If it has, why? And to what? (2) Do our structures correspond to their purpose and function? Now I would like to share with you what some samples of recently revised and approved constitutions from different parts of the world have to say to us about leadership, authority, and government in religious life today. In the light of these concrete statements, I will afterwards pick up again the two questions I have just raised. Sampling Some Revised Constitutions During my period of service at the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL), about 1500 revised constitutions received their decrees of approval, and there have been a few more since then. Among this overwhelming amount of material, my only option was to take a sampling. I decided on five criteria of choice. March-April 1993 179 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government 1. My first criterion was to restrict myself to constitutions presented in English. There are more than enough of these to give a range of thought and experience, and I have the advantage of knowing them well and of having worked with many of the sisters who produced them. 2. My second criterion was to cover the different spiritual traditions in religious families, since these affect concepts and structures of government. I took sisters' constitutions deriving from the inspiration of the classic founders Alphonsus, Augustine, Benedict, Dominic, Francis, Ignatius, and Paul of the Cross. I also took some from the women's congregations that have a com-mon source of spirituality: Ursulines, Sisters of St. Joseph, Sisters of the Presentation, Sisters of Mercy, Sisters of Charity, Sisters of the Incarnate Word. I sampled as a further category congrega-tions with a strong and clear individual charism that are not notably indebted either to one of the major religious families of men or to other groups of sisters. 3. My third criterion was to cover a wide range of cultures, since these are important in the expression of values and princi-ples. The English-speaking world is notoriously extensive, and also some institutes present their texts in English either because this is an acceptable second language or because their principal growing points are in English-speaking areas outside their coun-try of origin. I ended up with constitutions from Australia, Austria, Belgium, Canada, England, France, Holland, India, Ireland, Malta, New Zealand, the Philippines, Rome, South Africa, and the United States of America. 4. A fourth criterion was to include a few constitutions of men religious by way of comparison. 5. Lastly, I included a random sampling of the remaining texts to a total of sixty constitutions. Fifty-five are by sisters and five by men religious: two clerical institutes and three of brothers. My observations are based on these sixty texts. Initial Impressions As one would expect of approved constitutions, on the subject of leadership, authority, and government, all the texts are canon-ically accurate inasmuch as they all harmonize with the present law of the church and with the values, principles, and basic structures deriving from their own previously approved founding charisms. 180 Review for Religious Yet no two are alike, and when I speak of a certain degree of com-monality I am not referring to common material or even to depen-dence on a common Code, but to a certain convergence of values and thinking across texts worked out independently and expressed with a great deal of diversity. Convergence. The highest degree of convergence is in the impor.tance attached to authority in regard to both government and leadership. In almost every case, whether the actual words are used or not, there is the idea that authority is to be exercised in government by sisters with qualities of leadership. The three elements go together, and it is authority that links the other two. There is a high degree of convergence also on the source of reli-gious authority being ultimately God himself and on the spirit of service which marks its exercise. Jesus Christ, whether as shep-herd, servant, son, or savior, is the model for the kind of exer-cise of authority in leadership that should characterize religious government. This spiritual level is usually clear and well expressed with a direct application to unity and mission. Areas of Diversity. The convergences are not bland, because there is no uniformity in the concrete provisions that express the converging values and principles. Each institute has not only its own founding gift, but also its own living tradition and experience, its own "now," and its own vision of the future. So, for example, even institutes which have the Rule of St. Augustine or that of the Franciscan Third Order Regular or the Constitutions of St. Ignatius as part of their proper law will have their own ways of incorporating these in concrete enactments. A good deal can be inferred, therefore, from the way in which the principles of government are actually spelled out. There are nuances about authority, leadership, and government to be found in the job descriptions given for moderators at the different lev-els, in the qualities and priorities looked for in those who will be responsible for government, in provisions for a particular style of operation, or in the way that responsibility and accountability are handled. Relationships and structures are the other areas with rich implications. The way in which a text expresses the com-bined responsibility of the membership and the various sisters in authority for the well-being of the institute is also instructive. So are the relations and interaction of moderators and councils and of both with chapters. Something can be learned from the way that the material on March-April 1993 181 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government authority and government is organized and presented. Some con-stitutions begin with people, some with types of norm; some begin with the whole entity of the institute as the body expressing the corporate charism and recognized as such by the church, some with the rights and responsibilities of the individual sister. Most start at the general level, since this avoids having to repeat and anticipate, but some begin with the local level. Perhaps the most revealing thing is terminology. If we raised our eyebrows in 1983 over the Code's use of"moderator," it was only because we had not yet realized our own creativity in find-ing names for those who were once uniformly referred to as supe-riors and for the sisters who work immediately with them. All the constitutions I studied were approved between September 1982 and May 1991. In them I met superiors, abbesses, prioresses, directors, facilitators, coordinators, sisters-in-charge, guardians, custodians, mothers, moderators, ministers, and presidents. These are helped and advised by councils, cabinets, government groups, boards, teams, and assistants and are accountable to assemblies, senates, and chapters. When the substance of all these is actually spelled out in terms of purpose, function, authority, and account-ability, there may not be any great difference at present between one reality and another. I have a strong sense, however, of dif-ference in climate and general approach between sisters who are superiors with a council responsible to a general chapter and sis-ters who are presidents with a cabinet responsible to a senate. What is denoted is similar, but the connotations are different, and it remains to be seen where that will take us. Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government in the Texts First of all, let me say that the three concepts, though they are present in each of the sixty texts, are not always specifically named. Neither do they receive equal emphasis. Authority gets by far the most attention, even in the two constitutions where the writers did not use the word itself. Government also gets pretty full treat-ment, especially in the abstract, and texts which reflect some reluctance to say that a moderator governs will spell out for her a number of responsibilities which are clearly those of govern-ment. Leadership is stressed much less. The word rarely occurs except in phrases such as "the general moderator is the leader of the congregation" or "the sister chosen as the general moderator 182 Review for Religious should have qualities of leadership." Leadership in its ordinary sense, however, is very often implied, and the spiritual role of leadership is clear. Religious Government and Authority. Statements about gov-ernment alone are usually clear and often pithy. They tend to ~pecify purpose: "Government in the eongregation provides structures and offices that facilitate our common life and ministry by ordering relat!onsh'ips and designating the functions of the members" (U.S.A.). "Governance is the means through which the resources of the congregation are unified, directed, and integrated" (U.S.A.). More subjec-tively descriptive but still purposeful is a' statement such as this: "Government is an experience in relationships, in deci-sion making, and in communication. Through itwe strive together to seek and do God's will" (Rome). From England comes the observation, that government is par.t of any organized society and that, in the case of rel!gious, it maintains the inspiration, nature, and purpose of an institute as living reali-ties. Most of the provision for government follows statements on authority which place its source in God o1: in Jesus Christ and which distinguish it from other kinds of personal power: :'Christ's authority given him by the Father was clearly .distinct in its exer-cise from the authority of the rulers of this world who lord it over their subjects," says an Irish text. "Christ expressed his authority in loving service: to heal, to forgive, to give life, to send in mis-sion." Some texts underline the ecclesial dimension: "Authority is given by God to the church, and it is from the church that the congregation receives its recognition as a religious institute and therefore a share in the authority of Christ" (England). "Authority in our institute is of an ecclesial nature and should reflect the self-g!ving of our divine master" (Philippines). "God is the source of all authority, but in working out his plan he asks for our coop-eration" (England). Some constitutions refer authority directly I have a strong sense, however, of difference in climate and general approach between sisters who are superiors with a council responsible to a general chapter and sisters who are presidents with a cabinet responsible to a senate. March-April 1993 183 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government The model of religious authority is, without exception, Jesus Christ. to superiors and chapters, but at least one broadens it to this: "From Jesus, proclaimed in the gospel, the authority of the . . . congregation, mediated and affirmed through the church, resides in the communion of its members according to their respective roles" (U.S.A.). The model of religious authority is, without exception, Jesus Christ, "the master who made himself servant in order that those he served might share his life and mission and that they in their turn might minister to others" (England). "Evangelical author-ity," says a congregation based in Rome, "is service which reflects the humility and self-giving of Jesus." Another one says: "Authority is founded on Christ, who received it from the Father and who came as one who serves. The example and teaching of Christ inspire sisters in positions of authority and all of us to serve as he did" (Rome). From Austria comes this statement: "In a religious con-gregation, the only model of authority is Jesus." The same arti-cle goes on to say, "Being a Marian congregation, all authority should reflect the gentleness and motherliness of our blessed Mother." This unanimously affirmed source and model determines to a great extent what the constitutions have to say about the nature of religious authority, what it requires, what it extends to, and how it is exercised. The question "What is it?" is variously answered: "It is a service meant to help the sisters discern and accomplish God's will" (U.S.A.). "It is a ministry of service which has as its object the fostering of unity in our diversity and the promotion of our mission in the life and work of the church" (England). "It helps us incarnate the vision of our founder in our time and to go forward together in the same spirit towards the same end" (Canada). Unity, mission, identity, and the discerning of God's will recur constantly as themes of response to the ques-tion "What is religious authority?" or "What is it all about?" It is interesting that the attempts to define authority as principle, which tied some of the renewal chapters in knots in the late 1960s, have been abandoned in the approved constitutions. There is no dictionary definition but rather a description, or an inference from needs and consequences, which is concrete rather' than the- 184 Reviev~ for Religions oretical. It expresses a basic principle, however, and links it with government, charisms, obedience, and leadership. This principle is nearly always taken from the standpoint of faith. What is required for the exercise of religious authority is expressed in terms of values, attitudes, qualities, and relation-ships. Sisters exercising authority do so for the sake of unity, wit-ness, effective corporate service, the growth of their sisters towards the fullness of Christ, and the building of the kingdom of God (Belgium, France, South Africa, U.S.A.). They are asked to be unifiers, animators, discerners, listeners (England, Holland, Ireland). The qualities looked for in a good superior at whatever level are instructive. In these texts there is much less of the utopi-anism that characterized the early 1970s and scared away many a good potential superior by requiring a combination of qualities which an archangel would have had a hard time meeting. The requirements now are geared to a more realistic perception. "A sis-ter who exemplifies the spirit and life of our congregation" (India) is a requirement which recurs fairly often and which applies to religious Pope Paul VI's observation that the people of our time respond better to example than to theory. "A woman of prayer and faith, close to God in her personal life" is also often mentioned. Then come the personality traits: compassion, courage, vision, love for the institute and for the sis-ters, practical intelligence; then the qualities that relate specifically to the exercise of authority: perceptiveness, good judgment, patience, balance, firmness, experience of life, and the capacity to listen, to collaborate, and to decide. It is noticeable that recently approved constitutions take it for granted that the qualities of those exercising authority need to be complemented and com-pleted by those of their immediate collaborators and by the sisters at large. Hence the importance of relationships, not only in the sense of personal relations--as, for example, between a superior and her councilors or with her sisters--but also in the deeper sense of the necessary interrelation of authority and obedience for the common project, or in "the sense that all the sisters in their various ways are responsible for the good of the institute. "There can be no community among us," says one text, "unless our com-mon life and mission are governed by deliberations and decisions that draw us all towards a u.nity of thought, sentiment, and action. To those deliberations and decisions we are all obligated as reli-gious pledged to obedience--both to contribute and to respond" March-April 1993 185 Linscott ¯ Leader'sbip; Authority, and Religious Government (U.S.A.). A text from England sees sisters serving in authority as "challenging each sister to fidelity in our shared spirit and charism so that our way of prayiiag, living, and working together may be fruitful for burselves and for others." This kind of statement car-ries religious authority beyond the juridical limits of the consti-tfitions and church law according to which it is exercised and into the realm of th~ basic values of religious life for which it is given. Principies foi" the exercise of religious ~iuthority receive more attention in recently approved ,constitutions than in preceding texts, where they tended to be taken for granted. As early as 1966, Ecdesiae Sanctae provided for "an ample and free consultatiofi of all [the religious in an institute]" in the preparation of the special general chapter of renewal (ES §4), and this basic concept of par- ~igipation echoes in practically every text. One document puts it like this: "Since the Holy Spirit works in all, we encourage the active pai:dcipation of each in the decision-making process within the community and the congregation. Our acceptance of respon-sibility for implementing the decisions made is a source of unity among us" (U.S.A.). Participation is seeh as a source of mutual support (India) and is meant to further the aims and goals of the congregation (U.S.A.). More specific than participation as a gen-eral principle is participative government which, according to one text, "includes these elements fundamental to government struc-tures: sl~ared responsibility, subsidiarity, accountability" (U.S.A.). These last three principles, together with the need for commu-nication, are mentioned in practically all tiae constitutions stud-ied and directly reflect the influence of Vatican II. The American text just quoted says that shared responsibility, subsidiarity, and ac6ountability are fundamental to government structures. In one' way, such structures exist to make religiofis authority effective: They channel authority and locate it, limit it, and focus it. They are, therefore, very specific to each institute, reflecting as they do its charism and traditibns, it~ circumstances and its cultures. The connection.wii:h charism is usually evident. Congregations whose founding gift requires a stable way of life in the sense of a fair amount of residential stability and a good deal of authority at the local level will have structures that allow for decentralization and immediate participation. Congregations whose founding gift requires apostolic mobility will have more centralized general structures if things are to work well, and par-ticipation in matters beyond the local level will often be limited i 86 Review for Religious to elected representatives. For example, three congregations in the Benedictine tradition from three different continents all have structures which move solidly from the individual sister to cor-porate unity. Two institutes strongly in the Ignatian tradition begin with the need for someone "who holds the charge of the entire body of the society and whose duty is the good government, preser-vation, and development of the whole body" (Ireland). Here the starting point is the superior general. Most institutes lie on an arc somewhere between these two. The fact is that structures, all of which are approved as adequate in their provisions for government, can be as varied as the charisms they reflect. Circumstances diversify them still further, for there are bound to be dif-ferences in structures of government between an institute many of whose sis-ters are centered in one house Structures, all of which are approved as adequate in their provisions for government, can be as varied as the charisms they reflect. (England), an institute whose sisters are in small houses near to each other (Belgium), and an institute whose members are widely scattered across vast areas in the prairies of the United States or the outback of Australia. Cultures, too, certainly affect structures and in particular the way in which structures are regarded. Institutes of the same reli-gious family and with a good deal of common tradition keep adapting their structures differently according as they are in Australia, Canada, Rome, or the United States. The European texts lay stress on the persons who exercise authority, their qual-ities, responsibilities, soundness of judgment, relation to others, accountability. There is an underlying element of trust and need to support, and an implication that, given the right persons, things cannot go too far wrong even if the structures themselves are less than perfect. This, however, is not an excuse for poor structures. The structural provisions are generally good. The Indian texts have greater structural detail, but still a considerable stress on the person. Some of the American texts, however, are very strong on structure, almost as if good structure of government could protect an institute from any kind of abuse of power. This is by no means a universal feature of texts from. the United States, but March-April 1993 187 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government where it occurs the structures are given in great detail, there is generally a system of checks and balances, a high proportion of the whole text is devoted to government, and there is not very much about the kind of sister looked for to exercise authority. In an extreme case, there is no more than the bare juridical require-ments. Again, between the two extremes, there is a wide range across the sixty texts. Each of them has been approved in its own right. The only point I make here is that, beyond the influence of charism and of apostolic circumstances, governmental structures for the exercise of religious authority are affected to some extent by culture. This has its own repercussion, of course, in interna-tional congregations. Religious Authority and Leadership. That the duty of leading is an aspect of government and that religious authority is given for this purpose is clear in most of the constitutions. "Those who hold authority in the institute have the right and responsibility to lead it in fidelity to its spirit and mission," says a text from Australia. There are also many references to general and local superiors being leaders of the whole institute or of the local com-munity respectively. What this leadership consists in emerges from the qualities looked for in a superior: "A woman of faith, discretion, and courage, she cultivates a spirit of availability and openness. A woman of compassion and understanding, she inspires, unifies, directs. A woman of fidelity, she fosters a response to the church and the world in accord with our charism. She is responsible for creating an atmosphere conducive to the spiri-tual, intellectual, and affective growth of each member, and she should show more concern for the Holy Spirit and for persons than for structures as such and for the letter of the law" (U.S.A.). This pastoral approach reappears in very many texts. Superiors lead by what they are and what they do: "She is steward of our way of life., of the heritage and mission of the congregation and of the gifts of each sister . She leads by her example, teaching, and decisions . . . and she exercises her authority with pastoral con-cern" (Australia). If the superior is expected to have leadership qualities, they are of a Christlike kind and facilitate her free and simple exercise of authority. One constitutional text notes that, when this is the case, the leadership qualities in the sisters are also fostered. "The right exercise of authority encourages each sister to become that per-son whom the Father called in Christ. The superior is confident 188 Review for Religious that the Spirit who creates diversity is able by his loving influ-ence to preserve union of mind and heart among the sisters. In this encouraging atmosphere, the graces of our baptism and religious vocation give rise to a number of leadership qualities among the sisters, all contributing to the vitality of community and the ful-fillment of our mission in the church" (U.S.A.). The role of authority in its pas-toral leading then becomes the encourage-ment and harmonizing of the leadership gifts in the community. This very fact points out the distinc-tion between the authority to lead that is vested in one person with assistance from others and the leadership gifts that can be in any community member. The two are not the same and are usually distinguished when they appear in constitutions. For example, we have from Australia: "The superior exercises her authority according to the spirit and laws of our congregation. In giving leadership, she encourages the participation of all the members," and from the United States: "The community min-ister is the canonical leader and unifier of the congregation. She has authority and responsibility for spiritual and apostolic lead-ership." If the kind of leadership expected of sisters in authority is implied in the qualities desired for eligibility, the direction of that leadership is usually implicit in their functions. At the general level, a superior "unifies in charity, urges fidelity to the gospel and to the constitutions; calls individuals and groups to core-sponsibility and account; keeps abreast of movements in the church and in society; enunciates goals and priorities as a com-munity in mission; focuses the corporate nature of our life and mission; and serves in various representative and governmental capacities" (U.S.A.). At the local level she serves the action of the Holy Spirit who is forming the community from within into a single body for the building of the kingdom (Canada). In texts from Malta, India, the Philippines, and New Zealand, too, this is spelled out in terms of animation, administration, and forma-tion. The role of authority in its pastoral leading then becomes the encouragement and harmonizing of the leadership gifts in the community. March-April 1993 189 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Relig4ous Government The ideal would seem to be that a sister who exercises reli-gious authority is a leader and that her leadership qualities are evident in her governing as she encourages and draws on the gifts of her sisters, especially those who more immediately share responsibility with her, for the well-being of the community. Leadership and Government. For the sake of completeness, there should be a word about what the constitutions give us on leadership and government. It is a short word, because they say very little on the point directly. For the constitutions, leadership is a quality desirable in sisters exercising authority, and govern-ment is the concrete process by which authority is exercised to unify and animate the institute so as to attain its goal. The texts take both leadership and government in relation to authority, not in relation to each other. We are obliged, so to speak, to go via authority if we want to link the other two. This is probably an inevitable state of affairs, for constitutions are spiritual juridical documents which give principles and norms for what can be leg-islated. Both authority and government are patient of legislation; leadership is not. So it is normal that, while several texts hope for leadership as a quality in those vested with authority to gov-ern, nobody assumes that it is a quality conferred by the fact of having that authority. This in itself is a realistic step forward. Conclusion How can we summarize all this? The new elements that mark the current phase of religious government in contrast to those which preceded it seem to be: ¯ a renewed sense of the spiritual dimension and of the kind of responsibility which it involves; ¯ a sharp awareness of the rediscovered founding charism; the concept of authority as service reflecting the Christ who came not to be served but to serve; ¯ the idea of complementing necessary gifts; openness to a wide participation of the sisters in general according to their roles and experience, continuing the thrust of the Second Vatican Council on the dignity of each person and expressing the belief that the Holy Spirit can work through each one for the good of the whole; ¯ the adoption of responsibility, subsidiarity, and account-ability as basic principles; ¯ the recognition by many that religious government is inseparably linked with the founding charism and with 190 Review for Religious the vow of obedience and so has a dimension of faith and of relation to the church that distinguishes it ultimately from administration, organization, management, or indeed any other form of government. At the same time, pro-cesses of consensus and discernment, variously under-stood, have been widely adopted. The evolution of the understanding and praxis of leadership, authority, and government in religious life is continuous. It is not in itself an experiment which can be tried out for a certain num-ber of years and then be confirmed, modified, or dropped, although individual structures expressing it can be handled in this way. In itself the evolutitn is essential and consistent. It is, there-fore, from the viewpoint of the present moment in an evolving continuum that we can pick up the two questions we raised some pages back. Has the basic function of leadership, authority, and government in religious life changed? If it has, why? Ana to what? We have seen that the goals and values for which leadership, authority, and gov-ernment exist in religious iife go far back in history, emerging from the following of Christ in radic~il gospel living as it was first understood bythe desert fathers and mothers and the early mqnks. From at least the time of St. Benedict, these goals and values have included the promotion of individual and community growth towards the full maturity of Christ; th~ fostering of unity, peace, and mission at the service of the church; the encouragement of fidelity; the ensuring of forrhation; the provision of the necessi-ties for consecrated life, all in accord with the particular found-ing charism of the institute. It is evident from the survey of the sixty recently approved constitutions that these basic goals and values remain constant. The stated purpose and function of gov-ernment is always that the institute a~hieve the goal for which it exists in the church: a specific pu.blic witness to Christ and his gospel in unity, prayer, and growth in love and in the service of mission. As regards these purposes, there is little change. What has changed, from the evidence of quite a few texts, is something which is not directly within the competence of con-stitutions: the kind and extent of responsibility actually involved in undertaking the service of government today. Whereas, even into the 19th century, religious government was (and in principle still is) primarily a spiritual and ecclesial matter, for many insti-tutes of sisters today there are accretions which create a further and different kind of responsibility. A superior general who has March-April 1993 191 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government been elected to see to the growth and mission of her sisters in service to the sick with Christ the healer may find herself by that very fact fostering that growth as president of a multimillion-dol-lar hospital corporation. The superior of an institute with an apos-tolate of education may well be ex officio a member of the boards of various colleges and universities. She will almost inevitably find herself ultimately responsible for the administration of homes for the aged sisters and for dealing with financial reports. The spread of an institute and the desire for hands-on government may call for wide travel, a knowledge of languages, and the capac-ity for inculturation. Both public relations and communication, with all their current technicalities, will claim attention. Clearly, responsibilities have to be delegated. However, under this kind of pressure, things may get treated from the point of view of the accretions instead of the essential. This substitutes administra-tion for religious government. It tends to depersonalize, to use authority for efficiency only, without the spiritual quality which should animate the government of religious. The accretions, which are many and demanding and which show no sign of dimin-ishing of their own accord, are the proper field for delegation and group work. To elect superiors and councilors or tdam mem-bers in view of the accretions instead of the capacity to serve the basic goals and values of the institute would be to build in a dis-tortion. Somehow, the different responsibilities have to be dis-tinguished and provided for in their own right. Do our structures com'espond to their purpose and function? This is a question that each institute has to answer for itself, because each one has its unique charism that determines the purpose, function, and structures of its government. Certain circumstances, however, have influenced structures and government in many institutes of sisters dedicated to works of the apostolate; there are reflections of them in the constitutions studied. It may be worth noting them, for they could still clog the wheels in some institutes. Among such circumstances would be: ¯ an institute's existence before canonical recognition when there was not a corpus of canons a.dapted to the needs of sisters and when, in consequence, individual traditions of government could range from the very firm to the very loose according to personalities and to the local circum-stahces-- such precanonical traditions may well have an influence still; ¯ the high degree of uniformity in provisions after 1917; 192 Review for Religion, s ¯ the tendency to authoritarianism and the stress on author-ity of status between the Code of 1917 and the renewal initiated hy Vatican II; ¯ the rapid change in structures and praxis that followed the special general chapters at the end of the 1960s; ¯ the impact of social, political, and psychological change brought about by major movements over the past thirty years: peace and justice, solidarity with the poor, femi-nism, rapid communication, even the recent collapse of communism; ¯ internal tensions regarding identity vis-a-vis the laity, lifestyle, mission, place in the church, raison d'etre; ¯ some confusion of the functions of consultation, consen-sus, and discernment with the functions proper to gov-ernment. SCRIS had a point in the early 1970s when it held that lead-ership and religious authority are not the same thing and that their respective relations to government are different. Time has brought out, however, that religious government does not impose a choice between the two. On the contrary, both are needed, although in different ways. Good religious government reflects not only the word of the gospel, but the Word himself, who leads as pastor and as servant precisely because he so evidently has authority. 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 distribution, advertising, or institutional promotion of for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will be considered only on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. March-April 1993 193 JANICE McLAUGHLIN The Meaning of Evangelization Today evangelizing The Shona people of Africa have many names for God. My favorite is "Chipindikure"--The One Who Turns Things Upside Down. Chipindikure comes from the root word kupinduka, which means transformation or revolu-tion. This is what God is doing in the life of each of us and in our world. And this, I think, is what evangelization is all about; letting God's message--which is the most revolu-tionary message the world has ever known--letting that message transform us, turn us upside down, so that we in turn may transform society. Evangelization, then, is about change and about choice. I can say no to change. I can choose to stay in my little rut and refuse to be shaken up and turned upside down. But God does not give up that easily. Like St. Paul, God knocks us off our horse over and over again until we get the message. We have all had these moments of insight in our lives, these turning points, which open us to n~w possibilities. Let us look at some examples of what I mean from my experience--after which I hope you will look at examples from your own experience. After I entered Maryknoll in 1961, I became involved in the civil-rights movement and the antiwar movement. Janice McLaughlin MM spent 22 years in Africa. She recently completed her doctoral dissertation on "The Catholic Church and Zimbabwe's War of Liberation 1972-1980" at the University of Zimbabwe. She may be addressed at Community Office; Maryknoll Sisters; Maryknoll, New York 10545. 194 Review 3~br Religious I also worked with the "war on poverty" program in the small town of Ossining, New York, near Maryknoll. But I think that my eyes were really opened for the first time when I went to East Africa in 1969. Learning another language and living in another culture is perhaps a shortcut to transformation. It forced me to give up my old way of looking at things--my Pittsburgh, St. Lawrence O'Toole Parish, McLaughlin, United States way of looking at life, at God, at the world. It is a shock to learn that you do not have all the answers and that you are not even asking the right questions. The wonderful people of Kenya, and later the people of Zimbabwe and Mozambique, taught me that people are more important than things; that being is more important than doing; that God and relationships are at the heart of everything. In 1977 I went from Kenya to Zimbabwe, which was Southern Rhodesia at that time, and worked as the press secre-tary for the Justice and Peace Commission. I was detained and then deported for telling the truth about the war that was taking place there. Racial segregation and discrimination were govern-ment policy, as they had once been here in the United States. I saw that the war of liberation was an Exodus experience for the African people as they journeyed from slavery to freedom. I came to realize that this iourney goes on in each of our lives as we seek to free ourselves from whatever enslaves us. For some peo-ple it is drugs or alcohol or a history of physical or sexual abuse. For us religious it is often our fears, our inflexibility, and our selfishness. Later I worked with refugees from the war and saw that we are all refugees on a journey through life to our true home. The refugees showed me that, the less we carry on the journey, the easier it will be to reach our destination. In fact, life is a process of stripping us of all we cherish until God is all and everything for us. This is the mystery of death and resurrection which is at the heart of our faith--dying to self so that we may live in Christ. Thus refugees and displaced persons, political prisoners and freedom fighters, and the courageous men, women, and children of Africa who never give up hoping in the midst of so much destruction and death have evangelized me and have shown me that evangelization is incarnational and prophetic and is rooted in prayer. March-April 1993 195 McLaugblin. Evangelization Evangelization Is Incarnational Valentine, one of my students at a school for freedom fight-ers in Maputo, Mozambique, helped me see how incarnation works today. He told me how he had joined the liberation strug-gle after his graduation. "I thought I was better than the others because I had finished high school," he confessed. "I thought that I would be made ~ commander. But I was treated like everyone else." He said that his clothes became torn, that he had no soap for bathing, and little food. He began to think that he had made a mistake and that life was better under colonialism. "Then in my downtrodden position," he said, "I learned the beauty of the revolution. I learned that my suffering was to help others. My life now is to serve the people." Valentine was turned upside down, from being a conceited, selfish youth to becoming a person for others. "From my down-trodden position, I learned. ," he said. This is how God teaches all of us. When we are down and out; when we have lost what is precious to us; when we do not have all the answers; when we feel useless, lost, and alone: God reaches out and touches our pain, our suffering, our loss, turning our little daily deaths into new life. "She who loses her life will find it," God has promised. The happiest moments of my life were the times when I had the least, when, like Valentine, I was downtrodden and suffering with and for others. The three weeks I spent in solitary confine-ment in a Rhodesian prison, for instance, I had few material pos-sessions: a prison uniform, a lumpy bed, and lousy food. But this hardly mattered because the other prisoners reached out to me and welcomed me in their midst. They sang freedom songs at night and smuggled notes to me during the day. They even sent me food when they learned that I liked their African diet. I felt part of something bigger than myself. I was suffering for a cause, and the pain and fear no longer mattered because I was not alone. I was with the oppressed people, and God was there with us in our prison cells. I had this same experience of solidarity and closeness to God in the refugee camps deep in the forests of Mozambique. There I was the one who was weak and powerless. I did not know how to survive in the forest, so the children became my caretakers and guides. They would keep me company to cheer me up; they would teach me their language and share with me any special treats like sugarcane or maputi (a kind of popcorn). They were ministering 196 Review for Religious to me. I did not have to produce or perform, but merely to be there with them in their exile from home. This incarnational approach from within is very different from the balcony approach, where we stand outside and above, pointing fingers at what is wrong and telling others to change. Too often church people, including us religious, stand on our bal-conies criticizing and throwing stones at the world instead of immersing ourselves in the pain and suffering of the poor and oppressed, as Christ did. This immersion enables us to see the world from a new perspective. It is what turns us upside down. Evangelization Is Prophetic When we have been changed, then we are ready to change the world together with the victims. I remember an African sis-ter in Zimbabwe, Sister Marie Theresa Paulino, who explained to me how she became involved in assisting the freedom fighters during the war of liberation. "I thought of Jesus carrying his cross," she told me. "Everyone stood on the sidelines and watched. Only one woman had courage and came forward to wipe his face with her veil. I decided that I could not stand on the sidelines and watch my people suffering, but like Veronica I must have courage and do something to help." She was a nurse. She would disguise herself as a peasant woman, tie her medical instruments around her waist, and walk long distances to mountain caves where she would treat freedom fighters who had been wounded. This was a very risky thing to do. She could have been arrested and even killed if caught by the government authorities. Who knows what the church authorities would have done if they had known of this single sister's act of courage to wipe the face of her suffering people? Each of us is called to have this kind of courage, to wipe the faces of suffering people: the homeless in our streets, the drug addicts, the AIDS patients, the gangs in our inner cities, the sin-gle mothers, the abused and abandoned children, the new immi-grants. I have discovered in the months that I have been back in the United States that there are endless problems here needing to be solved. In fact, it seems tp me that the people of the United States are much more needy than the people I have known in Africa; people in this country of excess and abundance are in dan-ger of losing their souls. Marcb-Atrril 1993 197 McLaugblin ¯ Evangelization Prophetic action is needed to turn the values of this country upside down. We need more than a new president or a new congress or a balanced budget, though these might help. We need more than family values, though these too might help. If we want to save this country, save this planet, and save ourselves, we must return to the radical message of Christ in the gospels. What would the world look like if we truly walked in the footsteps of Christ? Do you think we would turn back Haitians fleeing the poverty and violence in their country? Would we exonerate the police-men who beat up Rodney King? Would we doubt Anita Hill? Would we bomb Iraq or any other so-called enemy? Would defense be our largest industry? Would we fail to sign environ-mental treaties at the Earth Summit? Would we allow thousands of Africans to die of starvation? Would we walk by the homeless in our streets? Would we allow violence and sex to dominate our television and movie screens? Would we let money rule our lives and rob our souls? Someone must stand up and say that t.he emperor has no clothes. Emperors, whether in the church or in society, do not like being reminded of their nakedness, and so we can expect to be condemned and criticized. Do we expect that we his servants should not suffer as Christ, our master, has suffered all these things for our sakes? Let me tell you of a friend of mine in Zimbabwe, Father Michael Lapsley. He is an Anglican priest from New Zealand who has spend all of his adult life condemning the sin of apartheid in South Africa. He was deported from South Africa and from Lesotho. Then two years ago in Harare he opened a package that had come to him from South Africa. It was a letter bomb. It blew off both his hands and destroyed one of his eyes. When I went to see him in the hospital a few days after the bombing, he had two bandaged stumps where his hands had been and a gaping hole that had held his eye. If it had been me, I would rather have been dead. But Michael was cheerful, and he said, "The Boers took my hands and my eye, but they left me my most powerful weapon, my tongue. And with my tongue I will continue to denounce apartheid until the day I die." This is what it means to evangelize the world, to live as Christ did and in so doing to change the world. 198 Reviev; for Religious Evangelization Is Rooted in Prayer We cannot hope to lead such radical lives without the sup-port of prayer. Prayer will give us the courage to take risks, the wisdom to expose the lies of our society, and the strength to join the victims. My understanding of prayer, too, been changed by my expe-rience in Africa. The African leader and philosopher Leopold Senghor has said, "Faith here [in Africa] is as essential to the soul as is bi'ead, rice, or honey to the body. Africans' gift to humankind is their ability to.perceive the supernatural as something really natural--so to speak." Creation spirituality, then, is nothing new to the people of Africa. It is their cul-ture and their way of life. They do not dis-tinguish between the sacred and the secukir. God is perceived as being tru.ly present everywhere and in all things. So they respect other human beings as the temples of God, and they respect the earth and all its creatures as God's dwelling place. African spirituality is all-embracing; there is nothing outside its scope. During Zimbabwe's war of lib-eration, for instance, the traditional religious leaders set down rules of conduct for the freedom fighters. VChile these spiritual men and women who are prophets, healers, bringers of rain, and mediums between the living and the dead were not able to prevent the war, they were able to humanize it by forbidding the needless shedding of blood and the destruction of wildlife and vegetation. African religion thus played an important role in introducing spir-itual norms and values into the freedom struggle. A recent article about prayer from South Africa's Institute for Contextual Theology points out the surprising fact that Jesus had not been teaching his disciples how to pray. They had to ask him. The article explains that Jesus wanted his followers to experience prayer as a need rather than a duty, and notes that there is no commandment in the Bible which says, "Thou shalt pray." It goes on to explain that prayer is like eating and sleeping. Unless there is something wrong with us, we will all eventually feel the need for food and for sleep. The same is true of prayer. How we pray will vary with each person and with our situation. Prayer will give us the courage to take risks, the wisdom to expose the lies of our society, and the strength to join the victims. March-April 1993 199 McLaughlin ¯ Evangelization Africa has taught me to be still and listen to God speaking through all creation and through the people and events I encounter each day. It has taught me to take time for silent pr.ayer, as well as to join in religious celebrations of the people. I have learned to trust the action of God in my life and in other people, rather than trying to do everything myself. Conclusion Life, then, is a journey towards God and with God. Evangelization involves becoming aware of this presence of God in our lives and then sharing this knowledge with others. I believe that this awareness grows when we immerse ourselves in the real-ity of the poor, whether in Zimbabwe, New York, or New South Wales. Their suffering and their faith shatter our complacency, forcing us to question all our preconceptions and prejudices, turn-ing us upside down. We can either become cynical, hopeless, and bitter, or we can face our own powerlessness and grow in faith, hope, and trust in God. Steve Biko, the South African leader who was tortured and died in prison, once said that comfort and security are incom-patible with leadership. I would add that they are incompatible with religious life. We will rarely be turned upside down in the comfort and security of our middle-class convents, spending all our time looking inward at our own spiritual growth. When we come down from our balconies and go out to oth-ers, especially the outcasts and the most needy, we will come alive. It is prophetic just to take the poor seriously in this society where wealth, possessions, and power mean so much. I should add that as women we are also among the poor and the oppressed because we have so little power in our society and in our church. Making the voices of the poor heard in our churches, homes, and offices and in the corridors of power throughout this land can make a difference. I firmly believe that we religious women can turn this society upside down. Let us do it! 200 Review for Religious Questions for reflection and sharing: i. Reflect on some of the turning points in your own life. How were you turned upside down? 2. What do you think needs to be turned upside down in your present situation? 3. What do you think needs to be turned upside down in this society? 4. What action will you take to make at least one of these changes? A Daughter's Monologue with Her Mother You are my child now. Now, you are my child. You may raise your brows at my leaving, or close your eyes on approach, wanting more nearly to turn toward the wall, to shut out the world long since set aside; one you no longer speak to. I will make room for your mood; your darkness, delight. You are my child now; who shall I name you ? You are my child now. There's no wanting in you but ¯ merits my care. You can wear soft hair in brhiding or turned in a bun. Neither will burnish my love nor undo it. Rest quietly, then, macushla. You can't disappoint me. Just who you are is my best expectation. You are my child now; I am the mother. Ann Maureen Gallagher IHM March-April 1993 201 MARIO I. AGUILAR Broken African Pots and a Mission Spirituality MwisSionary work in Africa has for years been associated ith lonely and courageous missionaries, single indi-viduals or very small communities of religious and lay people who have preached the gospel on the African continent in very diffi-cult circumstances. While the former facts are true in some way, in this article I want to look at the particular experience of a group of religious women and men working in Garba Tulla, Kenya, and their own sense of achievement and failure. Although this case is a very localized one, it opens the way to another understanding of missionary spirituality and, I would say, missionary work. I kvill focus, not on missionary strategies--that would constitute mate-rial for missiological studies--but on African pottery. I believe it can help to illustrate a spirituality for mission. In this article I assert that spiritual fulfillment, failure, and possible despair in missionary work are directly related to our own expectations coming from our own sense of achievement and self-understanding. The particular goals and expectations that missionaries arrive with permeate their sense of fulfillment and failurein their missionary work. What one person considers to be success and fulfillment can seem to be failure and reason for despair to somebody else. For this reason I suggest that the African way of making pottery could help us discover God's pres- Mario I. Aguilar SVD has taught Scripture and religious studies in Kenya and anthropology at the University of Vienna. His present address is: School of Oriental and African Studies; Department of Anthropology; Thornhaugh St. Russell Square; London WC1H 0XG; England. 202 Revie~ for Religious ence in different cultures--something I would consider the final goal in missionary work and in our own search for a spirituality of mission. On the other hand, there is this about African pottery: it involves making, breaking, and remaking pots. It is a constant process, one which never ends. Garba Tulla Parish: A Case Study The parish of the Good Shepherd (Parokia Tissitu Dansa) of Garba Tulla is located in the Isiolo deanery of the diocese of Meru, Eastern Kenya. The parish as such was created in 1987, after years of being an outstation of the Isiolo parish and then a so-called Catholic mission. By most people it is still considered the Garba Tulla Catholic Mission. Located in a semidesert area and in the middle of Garba Tulla town, it has a very short history as a so-called missionary presence among th~ Boorana people of the area. From the late 1970s, priests from the Isiolo parish (120 kilo-meters away) had gone to Garba Tulla, mainly on weekends, in order to celebrate the Eucharist with the Catholics who worked in the area. It cannot be denied that their missionary presence was oriented towards the conversion of the Muslim Boorana towards Christianity and specifically towards the Catholic Church.' In 1985 one priest and two brothers established their resi-dence for the first time at the Catholic Mission in Garba Tulla, but my case study begins in 1986, when a group of religious sisters joined the men religious who had been working in the area. At that time the missionary personnel working in Garba Tulla started considering themselves a team, a mission team of religious rather than a number of individuals working in the area. In a deanery where most of the priests come from diocesan backgrounds, this missionary team of religious constituted a novelty. Regarding a missionary strategy, the team went through stages of understanding their presence and work in the area. During the first stage, 1986-1987, the team moved towards being a Christian presence among the people, i3ut with the spiritual goal of fulfill-ment through the conversion of Muslims to the gospel. Their sense of spiritual fulfillment in mission came from the fact of their presence there and from the hopeful possibility that some Muslims would eventually believe in the gospel. New enterprises and new expectations, especially for a team Marcb-~lt~il 1993 203 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots Each one of the religious on the team felt that his or her spiritual fulfillment depended on the implementation of a particular model of mission. which had just arrived in the area, provided a time of search for strategies and for a religious spirituality that stressed God's dia-logue with his people, but also stressed the need people have for Christ as the ultimate revelation of God. That was expressed in the creation of many projects of development and in efforts to form a praying community among the team, because of the lack of Christians from the Boorana people of Garba Tulla themselves. The team comprised seven people, who came from seven different countries--a nat-ural richness, one would say. Nevertheless, it created a deep crisis of purpose, because of the different understandings of mission work present among members of the team. By 1987 the leader of the team was changed under difficult circumstances, and a search for a new purpose began once again. There was a new sense of searching for fulfillment after the damage caused by the team's fail-ures of communication and understanding had somehow been repaired. (I believe that those scars will never be healed completely.) The spiritual failure felt by the team was ¯ explained as part of the problem of having a team with individuals of different nationalities and therefore with different models of mission. There were ethnocentric tones to the problem as well; people failed to understand one another's attitudes. Nevertheless, I would say that, by itself, the variety of spiritualities present in the team caused enough internal tensions for a complete breakdown in communication and cooperation. Each one of the religious on the team felt at one point or another that his or her spiritual fulfillment depended on the implementa-tion of a particular model of mission. New attempts to unite the team around a particular model of mission work have in reality also failed, even as new leaders in the team have moved to a second stage, dialogue with the Muslim community, and a third stage, the strengthening of the parish. Those two attempts provided a complete change from the above-mentioned first stage, which was concerned with the actual con-version of the Muslim community towards Christianity. This case could sound like a very familiar story among reli- 204 Review for Religious gious, but to me it posed many questions regarding spiritual ful-fillment, acceptance, failure, and even despair in missionary work. The result of that time of tension was a new beginning, a new search. Years later the team is still searching for answers. Years later different nationalities are still trying to understand what went wrong with those religious at that time, and the scars are still present. As a member of the team which followed the 1987 crisis, I asked myself many times if what actually went wrong was con-nected, not to mission strategies, but rather to a very limited understanding of a spirituality for mission. That mission team ran out of their spiritual resources as religious because they failed to accept that personal fulfillment also requires failures and even despair at certain times of our lives. It is in this sense that I pro-pose that African pottery provides a model that fits our need for spiritual fulfillment and the presence of God in our lives. Success and Failure in an African Pot In 1992 I had the wonderful opportunity to sit surrounded by potters at a village of the Nkhoma mountains in Malawi. The potters were women who belong to the Chewa people. I was acquainted with the art of pottery in my home country, Chile, and also as a religious I had explored the possibility of prayer involving the use of clay and pottery, with very limited results. But now I felt the need to relate a spirituality for mission, based on my experience in Kenya, to the feelings and events of those days spent under the sun in the mountains of Malawi. Among the Chewa people, women produce pottery while men weave mats. A group of women sit in front of a house, surrounded by their children. Usually one woman has learned the techniques of pottery from another village and teaches the others. The clay is prepared by being pounded in a mortar so as to eliminate impu-rities. Pottery making begins when the woman takes a lump of clay and proceeds to pick out of it the hard little pieces that are still present and would cause problems as the clay is molded. The complete process is simple and at the same time elaborate; skill comes only with practice. The more pots you make, the more skilled you become. The clay is pounded with the palms of both hands till it becomes like a flat plate. Then it is slapped at the sides, till the March-April 1993 205 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots A broken pot is never thrown away; it becomes an important part of the process of making new pots. actual form of a vessel begins to appear. This is done with round movements of the hands, with the clay in the air. The shoulders give a certain rhythm to this hard process. A lot of strength is required to shape the clay, and what looks like easy work---and fun, too, in a way--is really hard physical work. The potter's hands become hard and dirty. (A skillful potter can make six or seven new pots in a morning's work.) Finally the pot begins to take shape, and what was a piece of clay looks like a new creation. The whole activity of pottery making is witnessed by a group of the village com-munity. Small girls try their luck at pot-tery making. They mold smaller pieces of clay into small pots, their own contribu-tion to village life and a particular com-munity activity. Less-skilled women who are still learning the potter's art are helped regularly by those who have more experi-ence and skill. The whole activity becomes a community activity, in which individu-als are not ashamed of being helped in their process of pottery making. Individual women are encouraged by others with the phrases "Press harder, . Push the clay up," "Make sure both of your hands are molding the clay," and so forth. There is a constant concern for each other. At the proper moment the new, shaped piece of clay is placed on pieces of broken pots that have been spread out on the ground. Those pieces come from pots which broke while being fired or broke while being used for cooking on the family fire. Broken pots, therefore, are still useful for the community in their cre-ative activity. A broken pot is never thrown away; it becomes an important part of the process of making new pots. Broken pots symbolize the continuity of a particular village, where new pots could not be made and would not exist without the contribution made by those broken pots. The past of a people is symbolized by the broken pots, which become part of a present and provide con-tinuity for the future of a people who need to be fed in order to have a future. In the pottery process the potters constandy apply water to the 206 Review for Religious clay while they shape it. The broken pots and the water both con-tribute to the making of new pots. The clay placed on the broken pieces of pottery lies at arms' length in front of the potter as she sits spread-legged on the grtund. When one asks the women why they work this way, they simply say it l~as always been like this. For my part, I am reminded of the act of giving birth. Just in front of the womb, a new creation is b.eing shaped and brought to "life." The process is like giving birth, I could not help thinking how distant, by contrast, from the work of their hands first-world potters appear to be, while in the African villages there is a close union between the potter and her creation, the new pot, nourishment and new life for her own village and community. A piece of wood is used to shape the sides of the pot. The bottom of the pot is shaped with a knife. The inside is cleared of any extra superfluous clay, and the pot is left to dry in the sun-- except during October, when the pots are shaded from the very strong sun of that time of year. After the clay has dried some-what, the pot is smoothed with a stone and decorated and is then ready for firing. Mthough the potter may modify the traditional line-and-dot patterns of decoration, there is a tendency.towards a good deal of continuity. When a woman ig learning pottery, she is taught how the lines and dots are "supposed to be." The process of firing the pots, which takes place some days later, provides a very interesting sight. The pots are lined up and covered.with leaves and branches, Thes~ are then set on fire. The whole community sit~ around the fire and watches as a few women take care of it. There is~ a great sense of expectation as the proc.ess goes on. Some pots will break. Others will come through in good shape and will be ready ftr the final decorations made with some roots~ while the pots are still hot. The "paint" for the decorations (red and black) is provided by local roots which the commufiity also associates with initiation and maturation.' When I was present for the first time, only one pot out of ten broke during the firing process--considered a real success by the community. Usually more pots break. Following the firing of the pots, the whole community cele-brates the event with a meal. After all, the community itself will store and cook their food in those pots and will also generate some income when they sell some of the pots at the local market. March-April 199~ 207 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots Not every region produces pots, for the right kind of soil is pres-ent only in the dry areas of the Nldaoma mountains. Wonderfully, the dry soil of arid mountains is the means of feeding these com-munities and thus sustaining life. Creating and Breaking Pots in Mission Work It seems to me that when one talks about potters and pottery, one assumes (as in Jeremiah 18:1-6) that God is the potter and we are those pots of clay that he is molding. What would happen if we consider ourselves the potters and that the clay symbolizes the cultures and peoples we are trying to evangelize, such as the Boorana of Garba Tulla, Kenya? When a mission community moves in and establishes itself, a particular group of people encounters another particular group of people. Each group has its own culture. The so-called "mission-aries" have the idea of forming a Christian community with the other group. Their effort can be compared to the making of pots, for that process, too, is culturally shaped, and people's expectations derive from tradition. Without excluding the possibility of lay people being mis-sionaries and therefore "makers of pots," I will explore these con-cepts with reference to Garba Tulla and its particular makers of pots and the particular missionary community in the parish of the Good Shepherd. The potters involved here came from different cultures. They all had experience of pottery making, and all of them recognized that it could be done only in a particular, culturally constructed way. Pottery making as the creation, subsistence, and growth of a Christian community required a certain experience and a certain risk. All those missionary religious had already experienced mis-. sionary work in other cultures and had brought with them whole bundles of assumed knowledge and expectations. Because of those past experiences, the process of learning pottery making in the Garba Tulla context was already shaped by their backgrounds. There were no teachers involved in this pottery making. Each one just did as he or she knew best. The clay had been prepared by the Italian missionaries who had lived among the Boorana before. When the new potters took over, there was no period of preparation, and the process of mak-ing the pot began immediately. The pot had to be shaped accord- 208 Review for Religious ing to the potters' expectations, and everyone's expectations were different. Although fulfillment, success, and failure can be assumed in the community of African women making pottery, there was no sense of one community of pot-ters among those missionaries. The making of pots was being done individually; different pot-tery techniques were being used. While it is true that a pot is a pot and not something else, the same word when used by different peo-ple evokes different images, shapes, and colors. And so, with-out some discussion and planning and some exchange and dialogue concerning the matter, there is no way to know somebody else's ideas about the making of pots-- or the making of a Christian community. While a pot is being made, much cooperation is needed. People offer each other valuable suggestions about the shape and consistency of a pot. The water needed for making the pots needs to be shared cooperatively. But for both potters and missioners, the process of firing a pot is the crucial moment of. fulfillment or failure. Without some discussion and planning and some exchange and dialogue concerning the matter, there is no way to know somebody else's ideas about the making of pots-- or the making of a Christian community. Towards a Spirituality of Broken Pots The pots need to be fired in order to be ready for use. In fir-ing, the makers of pots learn how successful their work has been. After the ashes are cleared, some of the pots will be found broken and later find themselves part of a new effort to make pottery. The time when the community witnesses the firing of pots is a very exciting time. A whole community effo]'t is being judged and evaluated. Our Western attitude looks almost exclusively at the result: if the pots that have broken amount to none or only a few, then the whole exercise has been a great success. If the bro-ken pots are numerous, then the whole community exercise is a disaster. March-April 1993 209 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots Even if all the pots break and there is none left, they still rejoice because they have exercised a community moment, they have strengthened their common effort to keep their community fed. The African attitude toward such evaluations is completely different, and it hassomething to contribute to a missionary spir-ituality. Very few times in their lives hive the potters seen no broken pots after the firing. Even when a great number of pots breaks, they rejoice in the sturdy few that will increase the num-ber of cooking pots or the income of their community. Even if all the pots break and there is none left, they still rejoice because theyhave exercised a community moment, they have s.trengthened .their common effort to keep their community fed. If the number of new pots is none, they still have the broken pots, which are needed for the making of new ones. With these thoughts in mind, I consider no missionary effort ever to be in vain; any attempt at community life and at preaching the gospel through that community life cannot be in vain. Even the¯ so-called "fhil-ure" of the religious missionary team in Garba Tulla at a particular time, has aided new attempts to proclaim the gospel among the Boorana peo-ple. Through the life of those reli-gious, broken pots have become new pots once again. New expectations have arisen, and new people have arrived. Once again some individuals have disagreed with one another, but new expec-tations l~ave been created. Some will become'broken pots, others goo.d pots, but they will all eventually be part of each other. If'one looks at success and fulfillment and at failure and frus-tration in mission work, one realizes that the fulfillment or frus-tration among religious does not come from the visible or measurable results, but from the attitude towards those events. The sense of expectation and purpose in a religious community is the guide to the true meaning of fulfillment or frustration in mis-sionary work. Of those religious who served in Garba Tulla dur-ing that time of "crisis," some would consider that period a failure because the objectives of the planned mission work were not real-ized. Others, instead, would see tl~at period as a fulfilling and 210 Review for "Religiom. gratifying one because they provided it the much-needed experi-ence of learning how to cooperate on an international religious team. Success and failure among religious men and women can-not be evaluated in a simple empirical way, as in the business world, but they coincide with our own attitude towards the whole process of preparation for that particular time in our lives and towards the spiritual fruits which can appear during that time and afterwards. Further Points for Reflection. The lessons for a spirituality for mission based on the process of molding and firing pottery can be summarized in the follow-ing points: ¯ The whole process calls for an openness to the Spirit so as to recognize the whole process as already a "success." ¯ We need to accept that we are always learning and that oth-ers are also learning. The whole process of going through a learn-ing period in our lives is also a success. Hopefully that process of learning will never end. ¯ Pottery cannot be properly made by one person; it has to be a community effort, because we all need others to help us. Religious doing missionary work also need others in order to bear fruit and make new beautiful pots. ¯ Different people have learned pottery from different teach-ers and designs from different regions and villages. The beauty of it lies in its diversity. The success in our process of learning pot-tery comes from the realization that a proper diversity brings beauty and opportunities for exchange and dialogue. When reli-gious come from different countries and different cultures, they also experience success if they are able to recognize and appreci-ate the beauty of their diversity. ¯ The pot of water that is shared by the potters is needed for the flow of moisture in the making of pots. That water is passed around when somebody realizes that somebody else is in need: the other person's pot is also my concern. Success in missionary work begins when one realizes that all persons, including even oneself, need water at one point or another. The fact of caring for one another's project is already a success in life. ¯ The broken pots become important because they symbolize the continuity of a group of people, of a community. They are March-April 1993 211 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots used in a new effort to make pots for the community, for the stor-ing and preparing of food for the life of the community. The bro-ken pots become more important than the good pots because the pots that turn out fine after firing will eventually be sold to mem-bers of another community. The broken pots provide continuity of life that the village community needs. Maybe a spirituality for mission could be called a spirituality of broken pots: the more pots we break, the more successful we are, for we have experienced the past and present community pulling together, and we have recognized the need for others if we are to be successful. A spirituality of broken pots would recognize the need to accept that we cannot fully control the firing pro-cess. Whatever we do, some pots may end up broken, and so there is the possibility of trying again. Other pots may turn out well and then, in one way or another, will help the community to serve other people, even other potters, and people in other villages. The broken pots retain their unique importance because they provide the foundation for a new making of pots and thus for the food and life of the community. I feel that a spirituality for mis-sion should be a spirituality of broken pots--and that a spiritual-ity of broken pots always creates success, as Jeremiah shows: "So I went down to the potter's house; and there he was, working at the wheel. And whenever the vessel he was making came out wrong, as happens with the clay handled by potters, he would start afresh and work it into another vessel, as potters do." Note 1 See M.I. Aguilar, "Nagaa: Centro de Encuentro con el Islam," Chile Misionero, 9 (1992), and "Dialogue with Boorana Religion: A Path of the Gospel in Garba Tulla, Eastern Kenya," The Seed (Nairobi), October 1992. Review for Religious MICHAEL D. MOGA A Spirituality of Aging In life we are confronted with many spiritualities and are frequently forced to make a choice among them. There is the spirituality dis6nctive of a diocesan priest and there are many spiritualities of religious life. The spirituality of a contemplative religious is quite different from that of a religious engaged in the active apostolate. The spiritual-ities offered by oriental religions differ from those of Western religions. The theme of this paper is simple: the spirituality for an older person is quite different from the spirituality for a younger person. As we grow older the Spirit of God leads us through certain approaches and principles that are distinctive to the particular period of life in which we find ourselves. Human life is constantly changing and we are chal-lenged to move with those changes. We move through the stages of childhood and maturity into old age which demand that we leave behind one way of living to face life in a new and different way. The adjustments are difficult and may take many years to accomplish. The change from maturity to old age challenges us once again to leave something behind and to adjust to a new situation of life. Like the passage from childhood to maturity this new change presents us with a difficult Michael D. Moga SJ has taught philosophy in various seminar-ies and colleges in Mindanao. His address is Xavier University; Cagayan de Oro City; Philippines. aging christ March-April 1993 213 Moga ¯ A Spirituality of Aging adjustment which will demand a great deal of effort and pain before it is fully accomplished. I find it strange that a rather long portion of time and edu-cation (as much as 40-45 years) can be set aside to prepare a per-son for adult life whereas little or no attention or time is devoted to planning for one's final phase of life (which can sometimes last as long as 25 or 30 years)! In our early training as religious we were presented with a certain spirituality that for the most part fitted the life of a young person. It emphasized generosity ("to give and not to count the cost"), high ideals (working for "the greater glory of God"), and commitment. This spirituality was exemplified in a saint like Francis Xavier who lived a life of generous commitment until his early death at 46. He did not live long enough to face the need to change his spirituality. A spirituality for an aging religious must, of necessity, be quite different. I suggest that John the Baptist, who said: "He must increase and I must decrease," would be a fine model. John saw that his disciples were leaving him and following Jesus. He sensed that his basic work was completed and his role in God's plan had been fulfilled. He accepted all of this. He did not try to hold on to his disciples nor did he need to continue his previous work of preparing for the Messiah. He stepped back and let Jesus pro-claim his message, trusting that God was working through Jesus and through others. In a spirit of trust he lived his statement: "He must increase and I must decrease." Aging religious find themselves in the situation of John the Baptist. As they grow older many things are taken from them. As they diminish in body, mind, and spirit their influence in the world around them is lessened, and they are called upon to find God in these losses. Instead of emphasizing generosity as they did as a young religious, they are called to accept these dimin-ishments and even to rejoice in them. The total commitment to apostolic work of the young religious is set aside. Instead of giv-ing themselves more fully to apostolic involvement, aging reli-gious are called to withdraw from such involvements. Above all they are called to trust, to believe that as they decrease, Jesus increases. They are called to trust that their diminishment is part of God's way of furthering the kingdom. A spirituality of aging can take many different forms. Let me present a few of them. 214 Review for Religious 1. The spirituality of an old person should include a serious preparation for death. Death is not simply something that happens to us. It is one of the most important actions of our lives, for in death we go back to God. Such an important movement of our lives should be given due attention and concern. Just as in our younger lives we took the choice of our careers very seriously, so is death a similar crucial moment which deserves to be treated with similar seriousness and to be prepared for. The period of aging has been given to us by God as a time of intense preparation for death. It would be a mistake to be so busy with our work and other affairs that we give no time, thought, or effort to this approaching event in our lives. We may want to die with our boots on but such an attitude may possibly manifest a lack of faith. We are, of course, called by God to do our share of the work of building the kingdom. But our faith affirms that we are called by God to pass beyond ~his world to live with him in an eternal kingdom. It would be wrong in our present lives to be so occupied with the "God of this world" that we ignore that "God of the future" and the life that he calls us to. One way that we prepare for death is to begin to put things aside. Since in death we will be forced to leave our involvements in this world, a preparation would be to step back from these involvements, to become less absorbed in our concern for the achievement of goals and the attainment of success. Nature aids such stepping back from involvements. For an aging person the world often becomes rather "tasteless." The process of aging may not only reduce the sensitivity of our taste buds but also diminish our hunger for the activities and concerns of the world around us. We can find ourselves not caring which basketball team is the champion this year, which songs are the most popular, or who is the most popular movie star. When we were young such things made a difference, but as we grow older we find ourselves losing touch with these "popular" concerns. The tendency to lose touch need not be conceived as a sad thing, a loss. It is clearly the way nature guides us to turn away from unimportant things and to focus our lives on what is more Aging religious find themselves in the situation of John the Baptist. March-April 1993 215 Moga ¯ ~1 Spirituality of Aging essential--on the death that is coming, on the God we are soon to meet. Thus as we prepare for death we are challenged to free ourselves from all that is unimportant in life. In our journey through life we easily let ourselves get caught up in concerns, possessions, and habitual ways of thinking and being. How won-derful it would be if the contemplation of death could make us truly "free" of all these petty things so that we might live for what is truly important. Preparing for ~something means that we focus on it. The preparation for death demands a positive focus on that meeting with God which is found in death. Preparing for death thus invites us to turn toward God and give ourselves directly to God. Older religious shbuld be freed from apostolic involvements precisely so that they might have more time for prayer, more time for God. Every year we prepare to meet God in our celebration of Advent. During Advent we join with the people of the Old Covenant in their "waiting for God." We also join with Mary as she waits for her child to be born. During Advent we Christians give our energies to "waiting," to living out our waiting in a full and complete way. The lives of aging religious can embody this spirit of Advent and be filled with a "waiting for God." 2. A challenge to accept. One major characteristic of a spiritu-ality of aging is its emphasis on a person's acceptance of dimin-ishment. As we grow older various things are taken from us. There is a basic lessening of energies as we grow older. Vision and hear-ing begin to deteriorate. Health fails as we encounter various ill-nesses and pains. Control over one

Issue 45.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1986. ; REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices ave located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REvIEw FOR REIolGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by REVIEW FOR REt,IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $ I 1.00 a year: $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write i~vlr~w FOR I~LtG~OUS: EO. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel E X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor Sept. / Oct., 1986 Volume 45 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to I~v~Ew FOn REt,tG,OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW ~Oa REL~C~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell . Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Dominican Mission and Apostolic Common Life Mary A nn Fatula, O.P. Sister Mary Ann is the Chairperson of the Theology Department of Ohio Dominican College (1216 Sunbury Road; Columbus, OH 43219). Her last article, "Trusting in the Providence of God," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1986. In company with other religious orders, we Dominicans have placed a great amount of energy into reclaiming our mission of apostolic preaching in the Church. Yet even as we have become increasingly competent and profes-sional in our ministries, more than a few of us have sensed that something is radically missing from our reappropriation and that our mission requires far more of us than the total dedication of our energies to ministry. If we are honest, we must admit to a growing pain which we too easily push aside because we fear the cost of facing its implications. We find our ministries consuming us, sapping our energies and perhaps making very little real or lasting impact on others in spite of our hectic lives. At the same time, we see that the women and men drawn to Dominican life do not come to us for the sole sake of ministry. In many cases they already have been successful in a ministry and are looking for a committed community which will nourish their prayer and service in the Church. Yet we know in our hearts that precisely what these young people desire and have aright to expect from us we seem unable to offer them. In addition, our study of Dominic shows us that his vision entailed not simply a task to be accomplished but the far more comprehensive and demanding reality of a life to he lived. As we catch glimpses of these truths, we are beginning to suspect that our desire for "something more" in our life together expresses 641 642 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 the Spirit's own cry within us for the very life to which this same Spirit has called us: a life of preaching as the apostles did, out of a rich communion not only with the Lord but also with one another. The Relation Between Dominican Mission and Apostolic Common Life Many of us may not have reflected on the importance of community when we entered religious life, and yet we probably experienced its value, at some level at least, simply because we could not escape its structure. Today, however, we often have local settings in which hardly a semblance of com-munity life exists. On weekends no one is around; on weekdays it is difficult, if not impossible, to find one evening during a given month when even a small community is present in its totality at a supper meal. In many instances, not much binds us together except the TV set. We know by experience that simply promulgating laws does not make us choose something, no matter how valuable it is. We make free commit-ments because we have experienced the beauty of the reality held out to us, or because our hearts and minds reach out to claim a value when its beauty becomes apparent to us. Perhaps we do not experience the beauty of common life today--quite the opposite. But a deepened understanding of what common life can and must be for us could inspire us to consciously claim it anew. Far from providing "icing on the cake" to pep up our mission, so to speak, apostolic common life is literally a matter of life and death for us: if we do not reclaim it, we will perish. The interior communion and interdependence at the heart of Dominic's vision is something no structure or law can deliver to us; no outside force will hold us responsible for living it unless we ourselves do. Dominican apostolic common life, and thus the Dominican mission, will survive only if living men and women freely choose to devote their energy to living it. As M.H. Vicaire points out, Dominic renewed the apostolic life in its fullness precisely because he founded the outer element of missio upon the inne~ element of communio. The mission of itinerant preaching of God's word, the very ministry that founds the Church, was to flow from the rich interior life the Dominicans lived through prayer, the evangelical counsels, community and study. Far more than the task of merely verbal or written preaching, Dominic's mission entailed living the Word we preach with our mouths and pens, preaching in fact with our very lives. "I have come to cast fire on the earth" (Lk 12:49). We know the differ-ence between the preaching of mere words, and the kind which enlightens and sets fire to us: "Were not our hearts burning within us as he spoke to us on the way" (Lk 42:32). Dominican preaching is meant to be both light (or the mind and warmth for the heart because that preaching Dominican Mission / 643 comes from fire in the heart. This constitutes the Dominican mission in the Church, inseparably Word and Spirit, truth and love, light and fire--the fire of loving communion lived and put into words. The Spirit of communion anointed Jesus himself in the word he proclaimed (Lk 4:18); gathering a community around him, he preached not as an isolated individual but united to his Father and also to the twelve: "Let usgo to the next towns that we may preach there also, for this is why I came out" (Mk 1:39). When Jesus sends the apostles to preach, he sends them not one by one, but two by two (Mk 6:7). A witness at Dominic's canonization process in Bologna testified, "his words were so moving that most of the time he himself and his listeners were stirred to tears." We ourselves weep when something in a speaker's heart sets fire to our own hearts. Dominic wept when he preached because he spoke of what he loved and lived in his communion with the living God and with brothers and sisters. Jordan of Saxony writes of him that his "fre-quent and special prayer to God was for the gift of true charity." In a marve-lously creative synthesis Dominic combined the itinerant preaching of the apostles with the communio of the early Church. Preaching formed the purpose of the Dominicans' prayer, study, and community; but even more, the apostolic life they lived together, the reality of their love and communion with one another in the Lord, constituted the loudest and clearest word they preached. "Living Together," Community Life, and Common Life We have learned to distinguish between mission and ministry; our mission of preaching entails living the apostolic life in its fullness, preaching what we live, while our ministries express that mission in concrete and diverse ways. In a similar manner, we can distinguish between simply living together, community living and common life. Most of us perhaps know the first reality, "living under the same roof." Like ships in the night we greet each other but have no real connection to or interaction'with one another. Some of us may know, too, the deeper reality of community life, concrete sharing of goals, interests, work, prayer, responsibilities. But the words "common life" in fact translate the Latin word communio denoting an interior reality, a union of hearts and minds which only the Spirit can effect. Certainly this communion must be expressed in concrete forms, yet its reality is far more deep and inclusive than what "living together" or even "community life" denotes. We can share many things in community and still not share the deepest reality for which we are called together, the Lord whose love makes us one. The Hebrew and Christian Scriptures which, inspired Dominic's vision 644 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 portray preachers as people joined together to receive and to proclaim the Word expressing the very life they live in communion with others. Recalling how communities gathered around the Hebrew prophets, the author of John 17 places on the lips of Jesus the following prayer: May they "be one, as you, Father, in me, and I in you." May they all "be one in us, that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have made known to them your name and I will make it known, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them." These words hint at the truth that no mere human effort can bring about communio. We have already tried human plans, projects, laws and programs, and we still find that we cannot achieve by our own efforts alone the kind of communion to which we are called as Dominicans. Only the Spirit gives life, and only the Spirit can offer us the power to live the kind of communion to which our vocation calls us, a human sacrament of the unspeakable com-munion at the heart of the triune God. When we ourselves love, we find that the closer we come to another, the more the union causes a bitter-sweet pain precisely because we cannot achieve the kind of oneness we desire. Because we cannot literally have one mind and heart with another; there remains always that final place in us which no one else can know or enter. But the Father, Son and Spirit live literally one life; in their communion no hint of division or separation exists. Our call to communio, to the common life, invites and urges us to be in some way a sacrament of this trinitarian communion. The Acts of the Apostles describes this reality among the early Christians: "The company of believers were of one heart and one soul in the Lord . . . they had all in common" (Ac 4:32). Here common life signifies not simply the sharing of material goods but ultimately the interior bond which makes them of one mind and heart in the Lord. Precisely because of this communion, the early disciples share everything in a "common life." This apostolic communio described in Acts 4:32 clearly inspired Dominic's own vision. The Rule of Augustine which he adopted for his Order opens with the proclamation that those gathered together have been called by the Lord precisely to live with one heart and mind in the Lord. And the primitive Constitution of his Order begins with this prologue: "Because a precept of our Rule commands us to have one heart and one mind in the Lord, it is fitting that., the uniformity maintained in our external conduct may foster and indicate the unity which should be present interiorly in our hearts. "" The earliest constitution of Dominic's Order thus identifies preaching not as a mere speaking of words, but as the expression of unity in the Lord which even in their diversity binds the members together in the apostolic common life. Dominican Mission / 645 The Basic Constitution adopted at River Forest in 1968 emphasizes this theme anew. The first three paragraphs speak of the mission of proclaiming God's Word, but the fourth paragraph makes clear the very heart of this mission: "Because we share the mission of the apostles, we follow their way of life as Dominic conceived it. With one soul we live in community." This distinction between the interior communion and the concrete expression of it in community life has important implications. Those who for serious reasons are unable to live in Dominican community may yet be truly living in the communion that binds us together with one heart and soul in God. Communio does have to be lived out in concrete ways, and community life is one of them, but Dominican communio is lived out also through study, prayer and ministry that flow from our interior union with our brothers and sisters in Dominic's family. We are called to foster one heart and soul in the Lord--a mystery far more deep and demanding than simply living under one roof. The Holy Spirit at the Heart of Dominican Apostolic Communion We address Dominic as "Preacher of grace" precisely because his procla- ¯ marion came not only from grace, from the Spirit's fire, but also spoke about grace, the supremacy of God's mercy and power in our lives. The Dominican mission calls us to preach from the fullness of our own experience of this mercy, our own realization that finally God's work and not our own will save us. In our attempts to renew and to live this communion among us, we are thus brought to our knees; the word of grace we are called to preach to others becomes only a "noisy gong and clanging cymbal" (1 Cot 13:1) unless it is also the word of grace we ourselves live together. In writing of love, Aquinas stresses how the activities of knowing and loving expand and enlarge us by uniting us to reality beyond ourselves. The process of becoming mature adults entails the ability to extend ourselves outside of our own limited being to others around us. Knowledge takes reality into us, so to speak, but in also lov!ng what we know we reach out in an "ecstatic" movement outward toward what we love (ST I, 16, 1). In love, we put others in place of ourselves and regard their good truly as if it were our own. The ecstatic nature of love's union in this way truly enlarges our being, increasingly actualizing us as human persons. Thomas distinguishes, however, between self-gratifying love and the love of friend-ship. In self-gratifying love, although we seem to be drawn out of ourselves to good outside us, the movement of love remains within us and focused on ourselves; we desire the good of others not for their sake but for our own (ST I, 28, 3). The love of friendship, in contrast, loves others as equals and directs 646 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 our affection outside of us to their reality precisely as other. True union thus happens only when we reach out of ourselves in an unselfish move-ment of love toward others' own uniqueness. Yet as experience itself teaches us, our own efforts alone cannot effect this kind of love. Precisely for this reason, "the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us" (Rm 5:5). Most of our communities have engaged in some program of helping us to appreciate and to tap our own resources, especially the gift of one another. But the gift we have left most untapped is the very person of the Spirit. Aquinas notes that the Spirit's name as Gift denotes gratuitous, unreturnable bestowal, with no expectation of return. And because a gift is presented to us only so that it may belong to us, the Spirit given to us is truly ours, our possession, our gift, our Spirit (ST I, 38, 1). Dominican women especially are called upon to renew this awareness of and reliance upon the Spirit's power in our life and ministry together. If we would claim our affinity for the Spirit's tender mercy and strength within and among us, we could become ourselves a new gift in and for the Dominican family, a living gift of women who live and speak the anointed word. For the word we have preached as Dominicans too often has not conveyed or come from the Spirit's anointing. This seems to me a special contribution which Dominican women can make to the Order today: to live and to proclaim the word of truth warmed with the fire. of life. Aquinas stresses that the Word cannot be divorced from the Holy Spirit: because the Son eternally breathes forth the very love between him and the Father, the living person of the Spirit, the Word is always Verbum spirans amorem-- the Word breathing forth love (ST I, 43, 5, ad 2). Only when we internalize this truth will we live out our call to be preachers not simply of the Word but of the anointed Word. Our mission to preach the Word by its very nature thus demands our increasing submission to the Spirit of God in whom we are to find the motiva-tion and power for our life together. "Ask, and it will be given you . . . if you who are evil know how.to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Fath.er give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him" (Lk 11:9, 13). We need to call down upon our life together the Spirit who alone can effect the interior communio at the heart of our preach-ing mission. As Aquinas stresses, the charity at the heart of our union is a created participation in the very person of the Spirit (ST II-II, 24, 2). This is a profound and radical insight, it seems to me: the bond of love we share is in some sense nothing less than the very reality of the Spirit, the divine person of love. As a participation in this Spirit, charity heals and enlivens our capacity to love one another truly as other. Again as Aquinas Dominican Mission / ~147 comments, charity of all the virtues has the strongest inclination to its act, for it reaches out to live in a spontaneous movement of pleasure and delight (ST II-II, 24, 5, ad 3; II-II, 23, 2). Since the Spirit's own person dwells in us by charity, making his power of love in some sense our very own, charity is specifically the same act whereby we love God and also one another. The movement of selfless love that binds us to each other thus of its very nature binds us also to God (ST II, 25, 1). The interior communion at the heart of our preaching mission calls us to reach out to one another's joys and sorrows, but we know how difficult it is to do this. We may be physically in the same room, apparently speaking and listening to one another, and yet we know in our hearts how often we are not present to one another's concerns. This kind of communion can happen only when the Spirit opens us to one another. As William Hill points out, the Spirit--and not just some effect of the Spirit's activity--is the very bond in some way uniting us in apostolic communion.' Perhaps we have had tastes of this communion at a time when we were bound together in a community sorrow or joy or at a time of deep prayer and celebration. We may have experienced this interior bond when the group was lost in silence and we had an intimation that our common life is not simply words we say or tasks we do for another. As Hill notes, when the Spirit "lays fast hold of us, we begin to live from a personal center that is our own self.''2 This last insight suggests that Dominican apostolic common life is possible only at the price of a profound continuing conversion on the part of each of us. W~ are called to live not from a center of narrow interest and self-concern, but from the abundant love of the Spirit who enlarges our hearts by making room in them for the truth of one another, In the depths of our being, the Spirit "lures us to the self-transcendence" of interdependence in the midst of our diversity: "The proper domain of the Spirit is not life in isolation, but in communion.''3 Neither Jesus nor Dominic sent our people one by one to convert the world, to be individual leavens in many places. This is a valid call, but it is not ours as Dominicans. If we are to live our charism in the Church, our preach-ing must express the fire of love that we live first of all in communion with one another. Individual men and women may have 1o minister alone in special cases, but their ministry also is called to give voice to the communion at the heart of the Dominican mission. If we are truly to live what we preach and preach what we live, the word we proclaim as Dominicans must express the apostolic communion we live with one another. The apostles' own preaching had such power because it overflowed with the Spirit's love lived in communion with one another, Because the Spirit inflames and anoints our preaching only to the extent that this same Spirit 648 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 binds us in love in one another, we will rediscover what it means to be fire in the Church, as Dominic was, only when we rediscover the absolute central-ity of apostolic communion. In many instances we still do not preach and minister out of the abundant communio we live with one another. And to the extent that we do not, we are insipid in the Church, a "noisy gong" and a "clanging cymbal" (1 Cor 13:1). Each of us is called to beg the Spirit's grace in our individual life and in our life together that our preaching would in fact give voice to the communioh we live with one another. Renewing Common Life Through Renewing the Four Elements of Dominican Life Because the Spirit's grace entails the mystery of both God's activity in us and also our free human cooperation, perhaps our most significant task in deepening our communion is to give renewed attention to each of the four elements which comprise Dominican apostolic life. And for both Dominican women and men, it may well be not simply a question of reclaim-ing but also of claiming these elements as our own in a way we have never done before. With regard to the first of the elements, prayer, we realize that our preach-ing is meant to flow from the abundance of our contemplation: "'contemplata aliis tradere. "" Yet too often we find ourselves saying, "My work is my prayer; the demands of my ministry prevent me from devoting explicit time to prayer." But as Vincent de Couesnongle, former master general of the Order, commented in an address at Providence in 1982, "People quickly distinguish the preachers who speak of the Friend with whom they constantly live, from the preachers who speak of him as of a stranger and try to pass him off as a companion with whom they are on familiar terms. The first know how to speak about God, because they are in the habit of speaking to God." People are thirsting to find in us women and men of God, and they recognize our pretense when we do not pray. And because this is so, what we most owe others in our ministry is precisely what we do with our time when we are not with them. Experience itself teaches us the paradox of grace: that God accomplishes wonderful things through us when we do not devote one hundred percent of our time to ministry, when we devote ourselves also to adoration before the living God in prayer. Many of us are perfectionists who think that our time must be consumed by projects to make our ministry more effective. Without belittling these efforts, more than a few of us are discovering that redirecting some of our " energy from compulsive busy-ness to time in prayer and fostering contempla-tive peace in our lives effect far more profound results than our efforts alone could have accomplished. What we do with our time when our people do Dominican Mission / 649 not see us often bears the deepest gifts for them when they do see us. We owe the people to and with whom we minister a consecration of our time to prayer so that they will find in us living evidence that God's presence and mercy fill the world. With regard to the second element of Dominican life, we are beginning to suspect the radical nature of our call to study. Dominic identifies as the crucial element at the heart of his Order the sacred study which opens us to contemplation and preaching. And is this not what we most lack in our lives today? Again, in his 1982 Providence address, de Couesnongle stresses, "It is a systematic, deepened and persevering study that we need to under-take . If this is not the case, then spiritual suffocation awaits us. The experience of each one of us shows this sufficiently." De Couesnongle com-ments that he stopped congratulating members of the Order for working so hard precisely because "people are overworked., they believe that one has to work like this. And thus, an unbalanced life results" whose equilibrium can be regained only by "stressing more a basic study that is at once serious and prayerful." Without prayer and study, we do no real preaching. We women especially must claim as never before our call to profound study; if we think we have no time for this because of our ministry's demands, we fool ourselves. No one will force us to study; this is a priority choice we ourselves must make. We come now to the third element that fosters communio, our com-munity life. In 1980, de Couesnongle noted in his report to the General Chapter meeting at Walberberg that he too easily believed the common life could be renewed simply by insisting on meetings and rules, as if these would automatically bring results. He came to see that true community life flourishes only to the extent that each person freely chooses to commit herself or himself to a real interest in the community members and to sharing what makes up his or her own life. "The newspaper and TV . . . will simply not suffice to excite and nourish an authentic community life. How many of us know how to share with outsiders what is best about ourselves, but become soeechless with our sisters and brothers?" We need to become, as never before, women~and men of the Word shared with one another, choosing to live what Dominic asked of us by speaking to and about God with one another. Is this not what we so little do? Because very few structures foster our communio, community life will cease to exist unless we freely choose it. We easily blame those in authority for the erosion of our life together when in fact we ourselves are responsible for its life or death. If our communities die, each one of us is responsible. We must begin to speak the Word to one another, to pray together, to speak to one another of deeper matters than simply the weather. 650 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Because mission is our purpose, our community life and sharing of the Word with one another cannot be a matter of adding more time requirements to our already busy day; our commitment to one another must be in terms of quality rather than quantity time. Even if we are fortunate enough to experience a measure of community life, it is often not communio, our shared faith in the living God, that binds us together. But by taking advantage of the opportunities we already have for quality time together, we can take the risk of improving the level of conversation at table and of sharing the Word at our prayer and house meetings. And instead of harboring anger and resentment, we can begin to speak the truth in love to one another, for even honest fights do far more to foster communio than polite silence. Candidates to our communities who may have tremendous gifts for preaching and prayer and yet do not value the commitment to communio show by this very fact that whatever call they do have, it is not to Dominican life. And we who have already consecrated ourselves to this life must con-sciously choose today what perhaps we have never really chosen before, a true commitment to the community life that fosters the communio at the heart of our Dominican mission. De Couesnongle noted in his 1982 Provi-dence talk that as we have abandoned structures, individualism and non-par-ticipation have grown, and these are the "enemy number-one of community life." "Community life demands interpersonal relationships. Are we not too easily secretive. Do we not spontaneously hide what we are?. We bottle ourselves up and dodge compromising questions." He also notes the radical nature of our present call to community, precisely because so much today militates against a true union among us. We have become as secula-rized as the world, as filled, perhaps, with a selfish individualism that makes it increasingly difficult for us to reach out of ourselves to one another. Just as we ourselves must ratify our own baptismal vows, we Domini-cans are called to make a personal choice to live in fact what we say we are living. We can no longer escape facing ourselves with the question: "Why am I here? If I want to preach as a Dominican, my preaching must come from a true communio I myself concretely live." Unless each of us squarely faces this question and lives out its implications, we will surely die as com-munities, because we will fail to live our charism in the Church. Since the Dominican tradition has always treasured the richness of plural-ity, there are and will be diverse ways of living our call to communio. Our being bound together with one heart and mind in the Lord will express itself in different ways according to the character of each local community. And if for some serious reason a Dominican must live alone, he or she can still live out the Dominican call to communio-missio by fostering in whatever ways possible a true communion, a oneness of mind and heart with the Dominican Mission / 651 brothers and sisters. As our congregations decrease in numbers, we will be forced to cooperate with one another in the kind of collaboration that the Dominican family asks of us. Increasingly we are called to minister together, to provide options for living in communities of other Dominican congrega-tions in order to preach and minister from a communio concretely lived. And we need to actively work toward these new kinds of configurations. We consider finally the relation between communio and ministry. We Dominican women especially are growing to realize that our mission is not simply ed.ucation but Dominic's mission, the preaching of God's Word through our varied ministries. Each of us needs to take personal responsi-bility for the extent to which her ministry concretely expresses this mission and to ask ourselves how we can best focus our varied gifts in the service of proclaiming the Word. Perhaps more than a few of us are called to re-examine whether the ministry to which we are devoting our energies is the one to which God is calling us now, the ministry which best utilizes our gifts for the mission of proclaiming the Word. We need also to ask ourselves whether we have allowed our ministries to consume and master us, rather than to free us in joyful service. When we fail to live the Dominican call in all of its elements, when we cheat other dimensions of our life to devote all of our energy to ministry, we find our-selves in an inevitable burnout, ministering not out of the abundance of our communion with God and with one another, but out of our own emptiness. Not every possible ministry is meant for us as Dominicans. If we are not ministering from the fullness of a contemplative peace and in a way that fosters this peace in others, we need to face the hard question of why this is so. If all that we bring to the world as Dominicans is more busy-ness, more hectic activity, we have nothing to contribute. What others need from us is not more unpeacefulness but the witness of men and women who minister from the depths of contemplative peace. This is one of the chief ways we are called as Domincans to be counte~:-cultural. When our ministry no longer fosters this peace within and around us, when it drains us end-lessly and yields nothing but unpeace, we need to take a second look at whether God is not calling us to another ministry more at the heart of our mission to proclaim the Word. De Couesnongle points out in his 1982 Providence address: "Work is not prayer., in saying we lack time we find an easy excuse. Do we have the right to present ourselves as religious whose word proceeds from the abundance of contemplation? Time is needed, if we are to pray. Let us find this time and give it to God . . . This is my dream for the Order: contemplation and preaching., preaching ex abundantia contempla- 652 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 tionis. "' This is also Dominic's dream for us. But a dream becomes reality only when we ask it as a gift from God and then with all of our hearts make a conscious choice to commit ourselves to its realization., together. In his 1970 commentary on the Fundamental Constitution, Vicaire stresses that our one profession, our one vow, integrates us "'into the communion, and it is the communion which has the mission. "" Our vow consecrates us not only to God but also to one another, for it consecrates us to be a "reli-gious community of life vowed to preaching." Our Dominican life itself "is an apostolic mission in the Church" that springs from the communion we live with one another. Vicaire continues: we are not "just a team engaged in a common task." We are "a community of life, centered essentially in faith's response to the Gospel and in the seeking for God together." Our call to the common life is the heart of our specific mission in the Church, for our preaching as Dominicans is meant to flow from our communion with God and with one another, the communion that makes us in truth of one heart and mind in the Lord. "This requires that we be a true community. We are in it for better or for worse, as in the conjugal community, until death." We need to take seriously this "conjugal" relationship not only with the Lord but also with one another, for as married people can and do tell us, real communion happens only at the cost of personal time and energy and commitment. Our Dominican mission will again bring fire to the Church and world only to the extent that it springs from and expresses the communio we live with one another. As ! write these words, 1 am conscious of how little I live them. But I also know that to run from the truth is to sell our very soul. May the words de Couesnongle spoke in Providence in 1982 about the common life as the indispensable well-spring of our preaching mission in the Church continue to knock at the door of our minds and hearts: "Each of us must feel herself or himself responsible for this. We have to pay out of our own person . Alone and in community, let us have the courage to confront this problem and then, 'Do what he tells you.' " NOTES ~William J. Hill, O.P., The Three-Personed God (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1982), p. 303. 21bid, p. 288. 3lbid, p. 307. Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenner is well known to our readers especially for the series of yearly surveys in spirituality he authored from 1980 through 1985. For the past year he has been Director of the Spiritual Formation Program at the North American College in Rome, where he may be addressed (00120 Vatican City State). This article originally appeared in the USIG Bulletin (Rome: no. 70, 1986), and is reprinted with permission. The spirited beauty and gracefulness of Jesus Christ has inspired the minds and hearts of women and men for centuries. They have been stirred, at times, to feats of missionary heroism all over the world. At other times, they have found encouragement for quiet, hidden faithfulness to the daily duties of a very ordinary state in life. In all these different types of heroism the moti-vation is the same: an enthusiastic love of Jesus Christ. In some way, then, Christian spirituality is always one and the same. Its beginning and end, its motive and energy always focus on that one whose words still echo in hearts today: "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life" (Jn 14:6). But over the many years, this one, central essence of Christian spirituality has taken expression in many different forms, some of which, at times, have seemed almost irreconcilable. Whenever these different forms are misunderstood and their common rooting in one basic Christian spirituality is forgotten, then they can become competitive or even truly at loggerheads. The interrelationships of each form with the one fundamental Christian spirituality, and of the various forms among themselves, have not always been easy and clear. But as long as we are careful to maintain a lively familiar-ity with and a genuine belief in Jesus Christ as the root and foundation of 653 654 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Christian spirituality, we can speak of numerous Christian spiritualities. The following quotations are good examples of two very different dynamics within the one basic Christian spirituality: The Carthusian life rests upon a deep foundation of silence which you know and love, and it is in that depth that the Eternal Word is born for each one of us. There lies our whole vocation: to listen to Him who generates the Word and to live thereby. The Word proceeds from Silence, and we strive to find Him in His Source. This is because the Silence here in question is not a void nor a negation but, on the contrary, Being at its fullest and most fruitful plenitude. That is why it generates; and that is why we keep silent.~ Take down your lantern from its niche and go out! You may not rest in firelight certainties, Secure from drifting fog of doubt and fear. You may not build yourself confining walls And say: 'thus far, and thus, and thus far shall I walk, And these things shall I do, and nothing more.' Go out! For need calls loudly in the winding lanes And you must seek Christ there. Your pilgrim heart Shall urge you still one pace beyond. And love shall be your lantern flame.2 Though the dynamic of expression is different in these two instances, the core of the matter is the same: a heart afire with God's love in Jesus. But there will often be a very significant difference in the details of the daily living out of these two dynamics. And though the difference is never so profound asto destroy a common essence and a genuine bond, yet it is significant enough to prevent an easy identification of these two forms. My concern in this article is to describe and distinguish further these two different charisms or spiritualities, without endangering their basic rootedness in the tradition of Christian spirituality. Often in the past the Christian tra-dition has distinguished between monastic and apostolic spiritualities. I would like to suggest a further refinement of that distinction--a nuance that seems to me to be important and clarifying in these present times of struggle to understand the essence and expression of apostolic spirituality in religious life and throughout the Church. After some comments on the essence of all Christian spirituality as being apostolic, I will describe at some length what I will call two different apostolic lifestyles, charisms or spiritualities: the monastic and the active. Among the ancient world religions Christianity is unique in its strong Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 655 incarnational quality. In the Christian religion, at its center, is the claim that the Son of God became a full human being. Neither a deceptive illusion, nor a passing hallucinatory appearance, Jesus of Nazareth intimately, pre-cisely, awesomely gives flesh in our midst to the God who lives, beyond beginning or end, in unapproachable light and holiness. In Jesus, there can be no doubt that God is turned toward us forever in loving forgiveness and is ineluctably involved with and committed to our world evolving in time. In fact God is the decisive source and gentle sustainer of all being and crea-tion. And so we find in Jesus someone who enters our world confidently and profoundly, someone who lives and loves tenderly, courageously, thoroughly, and yet whose center of identity is never fully of this world. His God, addressed so intimately as Abba, "my dear Father," focuses his heart far beyond all of this world. On Calvary an apparently absurd and horrendous death can be desired, even chosen, precisely because his identity, though fully lived within this world, is not finally rooted here. And this identity is then fully revealed by God in the blessing of resurrection. The God of Christian religion always far transcends in being, beauty and life anything of this world. And so the Christian God is never fully identified with or by anything of the here and now, but, in Jesus, stands forever committed in loving forgiveness to all of us and to our created uni-verse. Fired by the same Spirit of God, all disciples of Jesus must learn to find an identity resonating in God far beyond this world while they live and love with a profound joy and hope that implicates them seriously within this world--but never so as to confine their identity to what they can see, taste and know here and now. And this balanced integration of the seriously incar-national with the transcendently eschatological has never been easy for any disciple of Jesus. There must never be any doubt of Christianity's healthy, creative and serious concern for this world. In the sense of a serious commitment to and involvement with our world, every disciple of Jesus must be intensely apostolic. Not to be apostolic, in this sense, is simply to betray Christian discipleship. For this reason, any facile distinction between apostolic spiritu-alities and monastic spiritualities may confuse, and may even deny the healthy, creative and serious concern--the apostolic concern--with this world that must be part of monastic spirituality. Nevertheless, as the central point of this article will make clear, there are two different ways of living out Christianity's serious, loving concern for this beautiful, anguished world. A central assertion of this article is that the essential apostolic orientation of Christian spirituality can be expressed in either a monastic or an active lifestyle. And these two quite different apostolic lifestyles are the result of God's Spirit at work in the hearts of men and women. This distinction, then, 656 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 is not something simply of human invention. Over centuries, as believers have struggled to be faithful to the Spirit of God inspiring their hearts, apostolic concern for our world expressed itself in a variety of ways. The evidence for our distinction here has resulted from God's love stirring human hearts down the ages. This distinction between the two dynamics of a monastic and an active relationship with the world cuts across the whole Church. It can name the experience of lay men and women as much as it can describe different types of religious congregations. And the Church has not always found it easy to acknowledge and respect these different apostolic charisms among women and men. Today, however, as a result of Vatican II, we are in a better position to recognize and cooperate with the different ways that grace stirs human hearts to express themselves and to be present.to God. To confuse or blur these two distinctive apostolic dynamics runs the danger of not respecting God's call in human hearts and of not cooperating properly in the formation of an appropriate apostolic Christian presence. The monastic and the active styles of Christian apostolate are not meant as hard and fast divisions. Rather, they express tendencies, movements of grace in our hearts. For many people and for many religious congregations, the challenge is to achieve the proper blend of these tendencies. We are speak-ing here, then, of a whole spectrum of development, from the highly monastic with little mixture of the active, right through to the highly active with a similarly small mixture of the monastic. It is like a long clothesline, and every individual and every group in the Church may be imagined as a clothespin that God attaches to some part of the line. As we consider these two different apostolic dynamics and tendencies of grace in the human heart, the issue centers on nothing less than identity-- either the identity of an individual or the corporate identity of a religious congregation. To avoid spiritual schizophrenia and identity confusion, no pins ought to be on the clothesline in the exact center. People who try to focus identity on this central point of the spectrum attempt the impossible balance of a life in apostolic faith of exactly equal monastic and active proportions. Religious congregations that referred in the past to themselves as semi-cloistered have been invited after Vatican II more carefully and decisively to interpret their identity with clear priority for either the monastic or the active style. The semi-cloistered balancing of exactly equal monastic and active dimensions is not possible. And such identity confusion, besides the damage done an individual or a religious congregation, also wreaks havoc in the ministry which, as the product of such identity confusion, must also be con-fused and weakly focused. Before moving now to a description of each of these two apostolic dynamics and lifestyles, two further comments are in order. First, no priority Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 657 of one style over the other is intended. The claim is that the monastic and the active are different and distinctive. There is no claim that they are superior, one to the other, in any way. Second, in describing each dynamic I will center on groups or on individuals who legitimately embody each tendency in a fullness and a clarity--with little qualification and nuance. When seen in such simple clarity and fullness, the dynamic in question can be better appreciated. But it should be understood that for many individuals and reli-gious congregations, the precise challenge is for them to qualify and nuance both dynamics so as to achieve an appropriate and identifying blend of each one.3 The Monastic Apostolic Dynamic I will describe six aspects of the monastic charism. These aspects are not disparate realities that stand on their own; rather they coalesce into a whole sensibility and way of life. As integrated and unified, they make up the monastic experience of God and the monastic vision of reality. These aspects are rooted in a distinctive dynamic at work in human hearts and comprise what, in the Church's long history, is usually called monastic spirituality. 1. Formal prayer is the primary determining influence. In the monastic apostolic lifestyle, the formal prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist, and any other private contemplation resulting from the liturgy, has a clear and decisive primacy in the development of the Whole way of life. These times of formal prayer are the first items placed in the daily schedule. They literally determine the schedule and the contour of the life. As regularly spread throughout the day, this experience of formal prayer clearly determines, not only the schedule, but the very structure of monastic spiritu-ality. The heart of the monastic person is primarily and thoroughly rapt in the contemplation of God. And simply everything reveals this primacy. 2. Order, routine, regularity and schedule are central. Because of the clear priority of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist, the monastic life reveals and requires a regularity of order and schedule. Often, only Sundays"and special feasts will vary the fundamental routine of monastic life. An active prejudicefor variety as the spice of life should not lure monastic people away from a profound regularity of life in which the monastic heart is purified and disciplined for docility to the spon-taneity of God's Spirit. The disorder of any inappropriate irregularity is serious enough to trivialize the monastic experience of God. 658 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 3. Being set apart from the world in order to be part of the world. The monastic dynamic always requires an appropriate withdrawal from the world. This being set apart from the world can never become an end in itself, nor an uncaring protection from the world. Should such a lack of concern develop, the monastic life would have lost that apostolic commitment to this world which is essential to all Christian discipleship. But for the monastic heart, it is precisely through being set apart from the world that a care and concern for the world grows and is appropriately expressed. This monastic withdrawal from the world can serve as a reminder for all disciples of Jesus. "If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but the reason that the world hates you is that you do not belong to the world for I chose you out of the world" (Jn 15:19). These words of Jesus profess a type of separation from the world without which serious Christian discipleship can never be possible. The monastic separation from the world-- never meant to be a frightened disinterest, but rather a sharing in God's passionate care for this world--serves as a reminder of Jesus' words for every Christian disciple. This monastic separation from the world is expressed in many different ways. Some monasteries are situated literally out in the middle of nowhere. Others are situated in the midst of an inner city, still crumbling or now being redeveloped. Sometimes the monastic person is set apart from the world in a small, simple apartment-hermitage. Especially in experimentation after Vatican II, monastic women and men have rediscovered that the cloister of the heart contemplatively fascinated in God is the central issue, much more than any grilles and cloistered spaces. And yet, unless there is an appropriate external separation from the world, the monastic heart will be distracted and become trivialized in its simple contemplative focus on God. 4. Stability, solitude and peace figure prominently in the monastic life. From the outset, in discussing the importance of each of these three qual-ities in the monastic life, key distinction must be made between the quality considered as a profound inner reality of heart and as an external expression of that same interior reality. When stability is viewed as a profound, inner quality of heart, it typifies and would be expected of any mature believer-- and not just of the monastic person. Interior stability, as dependability and responsibility before God, always entails the refined sensitivity which dis-tinguishes God's word of true love from the many other seductive words of apparent and fallacious love heard at times within the human heart. This inner stability and refined insight comprise the core of faith maturity and, therefore, would be at the very heart of both monastic and active apostolic lifestyles. Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 659 But there is an appropriate external expression of this inner stability of heart that typifies the monastic lifestyle and not the active. Vowed stability in a monastic congregation, though surely a profound reality of heart in all the members, also unites them in this specific place with a communal bond that facilitates their ongoing search together into God. This kind of external stability, while stimulating profound communal experience of God in the monastic life, obviously interferes with the mobility of the active life. To appreciate the necessary role of solitude in the monastic life, the same distinction must be applied. A regular experience of solitude alone with and in God is another sign of every mature believer, whether called to the monas-tic or the active life. Without such experience of God in solitude, we remain superficial and immature, in our experience of life, ourselves and God. One of the dangers that could weaken the Church's ministry today, especially in the active form, is the situation in which active apostles become too busy for regular prayer in solitude--with the result that their faith becomes immature, superficial and indecisive. But for the monastic heart there must be an appropriate external expression and atmosphere of quiet solitude if one is to maintain a live witness within the Church of an inner solitude with God, a nourishment for which all our hearts year9 and are made. In a similar fashion, peace, as a deep inner quality of heart, is Jesus' gift to every serious disciple. Beyond this mature, inner experience of Jesus' peace, the monastic apostolic lifestyle also provides an external expression and atmosphere of peace, without the disruption and distraction of the active lifestyle. This distinction between inner quaiity of heart and external expression is very helpful in describing both the overlapping and the distinctiveness of these two apostolic lifestyles. I will make use of it later in describing the active style of being apostolic. 5. The apostolate of formal prayer is most typical of monastic spirituafity. The formal prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist and of individual contemplation is the chief and primary apostolate or ministry of the monastic heart. No other secondary ministry should be practiced except insofar as it relates to and does not interfere with the monastic life of con-templation alone with God. To blur or confuse this ministerial primacy of formal prayer could, once again, trivialize the monastic experience of God. The monastic heart always senses a salvific radiation emanating from its contemplative adventure alone in God. 6. Importance of physical presence in the formation of monastic community. Christian community is usually easier to define than to live. Wherever 660 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 it occurs, it is a union of minds and hearts primarily focused by a shared faith vision. Though many other elements, like similar age, training and interests, may facilitate union of minds and hearts, nothing is more important than a genuinely corporate faith vision regularly experienced and appropri-ately expressed. In the monastic style of Christian community, physical pres-ence, often in silence, plays a very important role in developing and maintaining the unity deriving from a corporate faith vision. A physical togetherness in prayer, reading, eating, sleeping and recreating are further aspects of the monastic dynamic at work in human hearts--and they are not unimportant ones in the living of monastic community. The Active Apostolic Dynamic Contrasted with the monastic, the active apostolic lifestyle is rooted in a different dynamic in the heart, and it also takes a different expression. This difference becomes obvious in the first of the six aspects that I will now describe. 1. Ministry is the primary determining influence. Vatican II, when describing this active dynamic in terms of religious life, speaks of communities in which "the very nature of the religious life requires apostolic action and services.''4 When this active charism is given either to a whole community or to an individual believer, it is ministerial involvement, rather than formal prayer, that determines the contours and the schedule of daily life. This is an important but very subtle point, which requires further eluci-dation, lest it be seriously misunderstood. To give primacy of influence to ministry is not meant to deny the absolute importance of quiet contemplation for the active apostle. Henri Nouwen states clearly the importance of formal prayer for ministry when he says: "If the minister wants to minister 'In the Name' he must live in the Name and speak and act from there.''5 Without mature prayer, mature ministry just is not possible. To deepen their regular contemplative experience is a great challenge today for active apostles, so busy and fatigued with responding to our modern world's needs. Let me be firm and clear in asserting this radical importance of formal prayer for the busy minister. The point to be stressed here, while not denying the importance of regular prayer, concerns the influence that ministry has on the whole makeup of the active life. The legitimate demands of ministry form the schedule of the day. When people enter a new ministry, with the intention of maintaining a past set time for private prayer which now will clearly interfere with availability for the new ministry, this violates the dynamic of the active apostolic charism. Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 661 To have a schedule of formal prayer already in place before entering into the new ministerial situation is backwards for active apostles. Rather, they must first insert themselves into the new ministry and get an honest sense of its reasonable demands. Only then can their conviction about regular contemplation determine the specifics of when, where and how long they should pray each day. That there be regular contemplation is beyond doubt, regardless of ministry. But the determination of the specifics of regular contemplation depends upon the demands of the new ministry. For the active apostle, ministry, then, while not a substitute for regular contemplation, is the primary determining influence in this whole way of life. 2. Flexibility for change is central. Because busy ministry and service of others is essential to active spiritu-ality, a regular routine scheduled around formal prayer is not possible. A flexibility of heart and spirit is called for, in order to respond to the challenges and needs of a world so often in great upheaval and unrest. The earlier distinction between a profound reality of the heart and its external expression is important here again. Flexibility of heart is not some-thing that only active apostles know. A profound inner flexibility of spirit makes possible genuine docility to the spontaneity of the Holy Spirit--and is always a sign of spiritual maturity, both for monastic and for active people. Responsible involvement in complicated and unsettled situations, something not usual in monastic life, calls forth in the active apostle a distinctive external expression and practice of this mature flexibility of heart. The struggle and anguish involved in much of our response to Vatican II reveals how hard it is to change a routine and how prone many of us are to find our security in a rather rigid routine rather than in a faithfully loving God. As indicated above I believe that a routine is not only healthy, but necessary for living out the monastic charism. But, while a certain routine is necessary for all human life, the active apostle must always resist the escape into an overly monastic routine and must learn to trust the gift of flexibility that is always part of the active apostolic dynamic in the Church. 3. Ability discerningly to find, be with and serve God in all activity. Someone in a busy, active life can become very scattered and distracted. One's attention almost constantly flits from one thing to another. One's energy and concern are poured out in one situation after another. Drained and running, one loses a sense of focus, of unity and maybe even of funda-mental meaning. As life gets more and more hectic and chaotic, burnout of body and spirit sets in. Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Moments of special religious experience in formal prayer cannot, all by themselves, stem the tide of this heightening discouragement and tension. More than regular formal prayer is needed. Despite a great desire for unity and integration, human consciousness is capable, often without being aware of it, of various compartmentalizations. One of these is the split between formal prayer and the activity of life. In such a split, the surge of religious experience in private prayer ebbs in the face of all the busy activity of the rest of the day. The frantic, frenetic business of the day often calls forth and reveals in the apostle little sense of God. Private prayer is stubbornly main-tained in an attempt to keep religious experience alive. But such an ebb and flow of religious experience actually saps the apostle's energy and finally fails in accomplishing the desired integration in which all the activity of a day contributes to, rather than interferes with, a person's unifying religious experience. The proper balance of regular prayer and discerning involvement in the business of everyday can simplify and purify the focus and commitment of a heart so that the compartmentalized split of human experience into sacred and secular is gradually healed in a unity whereby all human experience bbc0mes religious--and finds God. In my own opinion, this is the greatest challenge still facing active apostolic spirituality. Often, past religious for-mation produced a compartmentalized relationship between prayer and activ-ity. Religious formation, in many ways, is still struggling to help active apostles find the proper interior integration that facilitates, and actually makes possible, the religious experience of finding, being with and serving God in all activity. Active apostles need a reflective sensitivity, in order to recognize the subtle but real difference between a selfish manipulation of others that finds self and a generously humble service of others that finds God. Only a genuine experience of the intimacy of God's love as beyond all other love and inviting a radical abandonment of self in love to God, together with a rigorously careful discernment of inner affective experiences, can make possible a human, loving presence that finds God in all activity and dealings with others. Vatican 11 makes a similar claim when it says that, for com-munities in religious life whose very nature requires apostolic action and services, "their entire apostolic activity should be animated by a religious spirit.''~ 4. Mobility and apostolic availability are key in active spirituality. Because mission and active ministry are so central to the active apostolic dynamic, mobility of body and spirit are important. Any rigidity in a person can interfere with the fruitfulness of this charism. In an active religious corn- Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 663 munity, the members come together precisely in order to be sent out on specific ministries, each of which shares in God's mission of salvation in Jesus. Any stubborn selfishness or immature insecurity will always corrode that mobility for mission which should characterize active spirituality. Apostolic availability is a readiness of spirit born of a freedom radically fascinated with a loving God's faithful commitment to us. Because of the inevitable limitation of human weakness and sinfulness, this freedom never perdures perfectly in a human heart. It must be won and received again and again. But the more this precious freedom grows in a human heart or in a whole congregation the more an availability of spirit allows the person or congregation to be thoroughly committed to a present ministry, but always with a readiness for wherever God's love may lead in the future. 5. The prayer of the apostolate is most typical of active spirituafity. The phrase that typifies monastic spirituality is reversed here. Granting, once again, the absolute value of regular contemplation in any serious spiritual life, the typical and more important prayer of the active apostle is a distinctively prayerful presence in and through all activity. This is related to. the third element above, i.e. the need to find, be with and serve God in all activity. The prayer of the apostolate should not be misunderstood as that claim and practice that many of us struggled with through the 1960s and 1970s: "my work is my prayer." Most of us now know the heresy.of such a claim, even though active apostles who would not want to profess an identification of work and prayer can still easily be pressured into living such a heresy. We have learned again over recent years that for no one does work become prayer, unless that person regularly stops working--and prays. So the prayer of the apostolate does not mean any simpliste identification of work and prayer. Rather the prayer of the apostolate involves two mutual and integral movements. The first is an appropriate, regular involvement in contempla-tion, which gradually spills over and renders pi'ayerful everything the person does, says and is. The second is an involvement in activity which stirs a desire for, and sometimes provides the subject matter of, formal contemplation in private. As one grows faithful and sensitive to these two movements, a pres-ence in all activity develops which is prayerful--a presence which is the Spirit of God praying and which reveals those clear signs of the Spirit mentioned in chapter five of Galatians. ¯ 6. A unity of mind and heart extending far beyond physical presence. Whereas the corporate faith vision of those sharing the monastic charism 664 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 requires much physical presence with one another, the active apostolic dynamic, because its very nature requires apostolic action and services, does not depend as much on the physical presence of the members to each other. It can foster a union of minds and hearts among members missioned all over the world in various ministries. Obviously, this corporate bond is not auto-matic. It is not the effect of any one person's fiat. It cannot be something superficially external. Rather, a unity rooted deeply in the hearts of all mem-bers will always require a profound attitude of heart on the part of each member, a distinctive type of missioning process and the careful practice of certain human, symbolic means. To say that the active charism depends less on the physical presence of the members than the monastic does certainly does not mean that physical presence can be simply disregarded in active communities. It is inhuman to imagine that members of a local live-in community, whatever the size, can develop a union of minds and hearts if they never gather together in quality physical presence. However, without disregarding the need for some such physical presence, we must not conceive the communitarian dimension Of the active charism according to monastic norms. Many active congregations today continue to struggle in local communities with how much physical presence of all members and what quality of presence of each is needed if there is to be a genuine, faith union of minds and hearts. If this struggle is not better resolved soon, increasing numbers of active religious, caught in the tension between involvement in an exciting ministry and the boring frustration of no shared vision in the local community, may well find celibacy too heavy a burden to bear alone. The De-monasticizing of Active Religious Life As religious have seriously responded to Vatican II's invitation to return to "the original inspiration" behind their own institute, a greater realization of the clear distinction between the differing and graced dynamics of the monastic and active has grown among us. In the wake of this growing clarity there also comes the realization that in the past we have not always respected this distinction with enough care. A major part of the renewal of religious life, therefore, has involved the de-monasticizing of institutes which were, in their founding, and which should, with greater fidelity over the years have continued to be, actively apostolic rather than monastic. This de-monasticizing process has not been easy. Mistakes have occurred. At times, inevitably, overreaction has set in. And many individuals have experienced great personal anguish in the midst of the confusion and turmoil of critiquing and of chang-ing, through experiment, revered and long-standing practices. But this process, although most painful, was unavoidable. To avoid it Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 665 would have been as serious a refusal as to violate the reverent d~cility due the Spirit of God who invites us to be faithful to the genuine, graced identity of our religious institute. In the past twenty years much headway has been made in realigning the fundamental conception, formation programs, ministerial practices and daily living of communities according to their rediscovered, original identity. Though the process is surely not finished, we are presently involved, appropriately enough, in a period of careful assessment of the fruits of this renewal process.7 A successful evaluation can help us to sift the precious wheat of fidelity to the essentials of religious life, as incarnated in appropriate contemporary expressions of the original founding charism, from the deceptive (though often attractive!) weeds of contemporary develop-ments that either destroy a necessary continuity of identity or shortsightedly try to defend older forms, which are now, and ought to be, simply dead. Vatican II reminds us of the importance of fidelity to the unique charism and identity of each religious community. "It serves the best interests of the Church for communities to have their own special character and purpose."s In line with this directive Thomas Merton cautions us against confusing the monastic and active dynamic: "The monastic life must not be evaluated in terms of active religious life, and the monastic orders should not be equated with other religious institutes, clerical or otherwise. The monastic community does not exist for the sake of any apostolic or educational work, even as a secondary end. The works of the monk are not justified by their external results but only by their relevance to his monastic life alone with God.''9 In conclusion, let me point to three results of respecting the clear dis-tinction between the active and monastic dynamic. First, we must be careful how we make use of the Liturgy of the Hours. In the monastic community the Liturgy of the Hours is a primary determinant and focus of the whole day, at which the physical presence of all is expected. In the active commu-nity, a regular communal prayer besides th.e Eucharist seems necessary. Some use of the Liturgy of the Hours may serve as an appropriate regular com-munity prayer. On the other hand, some other type of communal prayer may better serve a particular community. If something o.f the Liturgy of the Hours is used, it should not become a primary determinant and focus of schedule, to the detriment of the members' ministerial involvement. So, depending on the size and variety of the local community, the physical presence of all members is neither expected nor possible. However, the active community would be deficient in its unified faith vision if each member did not share the same desire to pray together regularly--which desire would always take expression in physical presence, except for ministerial reasons. But for an active community to use the Liturgy of the Hours in a monastic fashion would be to violate its God-given charism. 666 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Second, members of active communities cannot avoid a natural monas-ticizing tendency as they get older. As the biological breakdown of old age sets in, religious become less and less active, they settle into a much more regularized pattern, and the apostolate of prayer becomes more predominant in their daily lives. If we are careful of certain presuppositions, this natural monasticizing tendency will not necessarily violate the active apostolic nature of a community. But the older members, whose lifestyle is now understand-ably more monastic, must not claim that this monastic lifestyle is the genuine identity of the whole congregation. Another subtle change of attitude could be entailed here. If a section of the motherhouse is located where many of the older, retired sisters are living, then naturally the style and schedule of life for that part of the house will be more monastic--as it should be. However, we must then be careful .that this more monastic schedule and style not be idolized as typical for all other houses of the congregation, an image that motherhouses often in the past have projected. Such a misunderstanding would be a serious interference with the unity and ministerial effectiveness of the whole congregation. In fact, it can be downright demoralizing and dis-torting for younger members. Furthermore, though these older members are much more inactive than earlier in their lives, they must be helped to keep the active zeal and concerns of their hearts alive and peacefully integrated with their bodily inactivity. These older members must also have a live sense of the ministry of old age and retirement. They must be helped to realize how valuable and necessary for the whole congregation's ministerial effectiveness is their own ministry of prayer and sacrifice. So often older religious think they have retired from ministry. I cannot stress enough the need for the elderly, and for everyone, to realize that while the aged and the sick must humbly retire from active involvement they never retire from ministry. The final and most important ministry is dying. If these concerns are not forgotten, then the natural monasticizing tendency of old age 'will not interfere with the active, apostolic nature of a religious community. Third, in the long history of women's religious congregations, for various historical reasons which are beyond my simple point here, the Church has had great difficulty in recognizing the active charism at work in the hearts of various foundresses. Angela Merici, Mary Ward, Marguerite Bourgeoys and Louise de Marillac and their followers are but a very few examples of the suffering this confusion has caused. In some ways the Church still continues to struggle today with this issue of more fully acknowledging and facilitating the active charism within communities of women religious. It is very clear that the Church's welcoming approval of valid contemporary forms of active spirituality among women religious--and without imposing any additional, Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 667 illegitimate, monastic expectations-- will enormously enrich God's mission of justice and love in our world. This article has described two different charisms, two different apostolic lifestyles, the active and the monastic. The Spirit of God has created and kept these two charisms alive in the Church. In a recent talk to the American bishops Michael Buckley, S.J., summarized the treatment of charism in the document "Directives for Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Religious in the Church": "Charism always involves three factors: It is an enabling gift of the Spirit which so conforms the recipients to Christ that they build the Church.''~° Three things, then: a gift of the Spirit, intimacy with Jesus, for the sake of the Church. As we come to appreciate further the active and monastic lifestyles in the Church, it is the hope of this writer that we will not confuse or corrupt these different charisms, but cooperate with what God intends, through them, for the unity of the Church, the holiness of its members and the service of a faith-filled justice in our world. Paul's words to the Corinthians both confirm and stimulate our hope: There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord; working in all sorts of differ-ent ways in different people, it is the same God who is working in all of them. The particular way in which the Spirit is given to each person is for a good purpose (1 Co 12:4-7). NOTES ~They Speak By Silence, a Carthusian (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Inc.), p.3. 2One Pace Beyond--The Life of Nano Nagle, M. Raphael Consedine, P.B.V.M., (Moorabbin, Victoria: L.R. McKinnon & Co., 1977), p. 7. 3As a result of their study of the document "Essential Elements in the Church's Teach-ing on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate," Franciscans are investigating and proposing the evangelical life as the best description of their charism. It remains to be seen whether this evangelical life is a third type of spirituality different from what I am calling the monastic and the active, whether it is its own unique blend of the active and monastic, or whether it is a particular version of an active spirituality. 668 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 4Vatican 11, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," #8. 5Soul Friend, Kenneth Leech, (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1977), p. viii. 6Vatican II, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," #8. 7See my two articles "Assessing and Choosing Even as the Journey Continues," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March/April 1984, and "Come Let Us Talk This Over: Issues in Spirituality, 1985," Part 1, 'REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July/August 1985, and Part II, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September/October 1985. 8Vatican II, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," #2. 9The Monastic Journey, T. Merton, (New York: Image, 1978), p. 213. ~°See "The Charism and Identity of Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September/ October 1985, p. 661. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and II Address: by Patricia Spillane, M.S. C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Canonical Considerations of Autonomy and Hierarchical Structure Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Sister McDonough is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Canon Law at The Catholic University of America (Washington, DC 20064). This article is based on a presen-tation she made to the LCWR convention in New Orleans last September. In the Middle Ages--from the grips of which many people suspect canon law has never been freed--canonical discipline was known as "practical theo-logy." That is, it was not a separate science as it is today, with specialized formulators, practitioners, codifiers and interpreters. What people did on a regular basis became operative norms of action. By authoritative interven-tion or by custom these operative norms of action eventually became recog-nized as laws in the technical sense of the Aristotelian/Thomistic construct, that is: An ordinance of reason formulated and promulgated by one charged with care of the common good. At that point in time the reasonableness of the norm, the intelligence of the individual, and each person's freedom of choice were paramount. Also in the Middle Ages--from the grips of which many people like-wise suspect religious life has never been freed--the ancient monastic and recently discovered mendicant ideas of religious life held sway. By that time the former was already highly clericalized, feudally land-based, rather well-off, and subject to frequent reforms. The latter was a new notion capitalizing on mobility, the development of towns, the discovery of trade, the rise of universities, and renewed lay piety. It, too, soon became rather clericalized; comfortably land-based, economically well-off, and in need of frequent reforms. 669 670 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Nearly three centuries later at the time of Trentmfrom the grips of which most people are quite certain canon law and religious life have not been freed--canonical science was heavily influenced by nominalism, voluntarism, legalism and emerging casuistry. At that point in time the reasonableness of the norm, the intelligence of the individual, and one's freedom of choice were no longer paramount. The then recognized forms of religious life were suffering badly from the mediocrity and compromise and half measures that commonly accompany the waning of initial fervor, the dissipation of energies, the loss of resources, the monotony of the ordinary, the discovery of personal interpretation, and the sometimes misplaced convenience of dis-pensation, exception and privilege. Similarly, all of society was in flux: notions of political power, emerging nations, methods of warfare, forms of communication, frontiers of exploration, monetary systems, philosophical reasoning, theological conclusions, and ecclesiastical structures all experienced incredible upheavals and alterations. And in the midst of this social and ecclesial melange, the desperately needed "new idea" of apostolic religious life was conceived by Angela Merici, Ignatius Loyola, Mary Ward, Louise de Marillac and Jane de Chantal. These charismatic individuals were fol-lowed in a few centuries by Catherine McAuley and many others. Perhaps it was a failure of imagination on the part of the ecclesiastical establishment that perpetuated the ancient, cloistered, monastic model in theological reasoning and canonical practice for women religious. But reli-gious life itself simply continued to develop. Eighty percent of the religious groups ever founded became established between Trent and the twentieth century, and non-cloistered, non-solemnly vowed, apostolic religious life for women was finally universally recognized, but not until 1900. Canon law-- retaining some remnant of its medieval ',practical theology" identity--could not ignore the reality of the "new idea" in religious life forever, although recognition came rather slowly by our standards. Relating to the Present But what precisely is the connection of all this with the topic at hand, namely "Canonical Considerations of Self-Determination, Just Autonomy and Hierarchical Structure"? The connection is this: At the moment recog-nized forms of religious life are suffering badly from the mediocrity and compromise and half measures that commonly accompany the waning of initial fervor, the dissipation of energies, the loss of resources, the monotony of the ordinary, the discovery of personal interpretation, and the sometimes misplaced convenience of dispensation, exception and privilege. Similarly, at the present time all of society is in flux: notions of political power, emerg-ing nations, methods of warfare, forms of communication, frontiers of explo- Canonical Considerations / (171 ration, monetary systems, philosophical reasoning, theological conclusions, and ecclesiastical structures are all experiencing incredible upheavals and alterations. We are clearly in a post-conciliar era incredibly comparable to the late Middle Ages and to post-Tridentine times. In the midst of this social and ecclesial melange, religious life is again in need--perhaps desperately in need--of yet another "new idea." But those of us who are currently members of established communities, more than likely, are not the bearers of this desperately "new idea." At best we are perhaps--or certainly have the opportunity to be--artisans of a transition. And with proper understand-ing and use, this writer contends that canon law can be a great aid in this transition. Fostering a Transition To illustrate the transitional role of contemporary religious institutes, let us for a moment take the medieval methodological approach of canon law as "practical theology" and look at what current "theology in practice" in the 1983 code suggests about this life we call "religious." To begin, the new law talks about life: an identifiable form of life, a substantive form of life, a stable form of life. It speaks of a life clearly understood and freely chosen: a life of following Christ, a life of total dedication to God. It con-siders this life a particular state in the Church undertaken by profession of the evangelical counsels and lived in accord with the supreme law of the Gospel as expressed in the proper law of one's institute. It is a life involving some fixed organizational structures, certain obligations and rights, various spiritual exercises, some restrictions on personal and apostolic activities, numerous clear procedures for admission and departure, and a public con-nection to the local and universal Church. From the point of view of "practical theology" the new code requires proper law specification in seventy-four out of the one hundred fifty-three canons that apply to religious institutes. In other words, in nearly half of the canons concerning religious, the institute itself must or may determine specific elements of the life of its members, both individually and collectively. Thus, widespread distinctions in practice are not excluded by the universal law requirements for common life, identifiable superiors, necessary forma-tion, apostolic limitations, departure procedures, and the like. The prin-ciple of subsidiarity is canonically incorporated in the new code, and opportunities for practical variations are amply provided. How well or to what extent these are utilized depends entirely on one's proper law. Proper-law revision, or the writing of constitutions, as experienced during the last two decades in the life of religious institutes has been no easy task, however. In some instances the process was carried out in an ambience of 672 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 internal polarization that fomented contentions among members as each retreated to his or her corner courageously defending the truth for the sake of God. In other instances the formulation of an institute's truly representa-tive legislation was complicated by a certain lack of contemporaneity in institutional and hierarchical Church structures themselves. Nevertheless, these difficulties do not negate the fact that it is precisely the revision of proper-law wherein lies the opportunity for institutes to incorporate new ideas and new experiences of religious life. Good proper-law revision allows them to accomplish this without having to shoulder the burden of being the initiators or receivers of the desperately needed "new idea" mentioned above. Moreover, incorporating new ideas and experiences in proper-law to the greatest extent possible now, can help pave the way for later canonical acceptance of other, newer ideas and experiences, however long that may take. Institutionalizing Charisms Backtracking momentarily before going on, let us note that the phrase "new idea" is entirely inadequate. Ideas have consequences, but they are not the only realities that have consequences. And religious life is never primarily or merely an idea, an intellectual endeavor. It is a gift of the Spirit to, in, and through the Church. Charisms are like seeds planted in particularly fertile soil in a specific historical context. They are shaped and reshaped by the exigencies of history, by the fortunes and misfortunes of the passage of time. They are nourished and grow and evolve in the context of everyday life with everyday people--interspersed here and there by those we happily refer to as "saints" (while being equally happy we never had to live with them). Charisms are never captured in constitutions or any collection of fundamental and secondary documents. Charisms live in people or they do not live at all. Legal norms, on the other hand, are externally formulated and externally measurable. They can never totally express internal motivation. Thus, the basic import of any constitutions and any collection of fundamental and secondary documents is not merely their juridical perspective and canoni-cal determination. The legal heritage of an institute, capturing as best it can the articulated charism, is always conditioned by the emerging values of real life as experienced by those inspired to embrace the charism. People are, you see, an undeniably important element of the canonical system. On another level, the institutional Church, which in some form or another has been with us for nearly two millennia, must itself occasionally reach out and embrace a genuinely new charism. In such instances the ecclesial structure must fracture its preset boundaries, redefine its established cate-gories, and reorient its institutional life in order to incorporate, that is, take Canonical Considerations / 673 into its structures, a new breath of the Spirit. This reaching out and embracing a charism has probably happened only three times in Church history: for Benedictine monasticism, medieval mendicancy, and post-reformation apostolic orders. In each instance, institutional embracing of the new charism occurred quite slowly, required numerous adjustments and experienced set-backs over the years. The time may very well be ripe for another institutional embracing of truly new charisms of consecrated life in the Church. If so, this too will occur slowly, require adjustments, and experience setbacks. And, if history can offer us any objective insights regarding the process and its effects, one might be cautioned to note that once the institutional Church reaches out and embraces a genuinely new charism, the rest of the story is that of the charism's institutionalization. It is simply a matter of time and human nature: initial ideals are eventually dimmed or forgotten; initial fervor is slowly chilled or lost; initial Gospel goals are gradually subordinated to preservation of the new institution. Suffice it to say that the readers of this article are, more likely than not, part of already established, already institutionalized charisms and, as such, are not the first wave of any new movement in religious life. Limiting Self-Determination and Autonomy The parameters of ecclesial embrace and the exigencies of historical evolu-tion are the primary limiting factors in the "self-determination"aspect of any religious founder or foundress, of any religious institute. Self-determina-tion is never absolute. It has always been far from so for religious life, and still is. But this is also the case, for example, regarding members of the Christian faithful in general. In the new code all Christians are entitled to form associations (c. 215). All Christians should lead holy lives and promote the building up of the Church (c. 210). All Christians have the right and duty to work towards announcing the Gospel of :salvation (c. 211) and to undertake apostolic activi-ties (c. 216). But no Christians are obliged in any way to seek official recog-nition for these :activities in 'any canonical form unless they choose to do them in the name of the Church '(c.301,). And no Christian is obliged in any way to choose any form of consecrated life (c. 573 §2). Yet the self-determination of any Christian (which is never absolute to begin with) is quite circumscribed and channeled--limited, if you will--by either of the above choices once made. As individuals we cannot be both teachers and nurses at the same time. As communities we cannot be both monastic and apostolic at the same time. As institutes we cannot be both Ursuline and Franciscan at the same time. Thus, in an era that prefers to deal with "both/and," we are sometimes faced with an inevitable "either/or" because 674 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 no self-determination is absolute. Similarly the "just autonomy" of any institute is always and only to be considered within the context of ecclesial embrace and historical evolu-tion. Philosophically speaking, autonomy refers to freedom from external control and censure. It guarantees room for action and reflection without disruption, but it includes necessary coordination in reference to the whole. Nevertheless, any auto nomos, from the Greek to be self-normed, is funda-mentally limited by creation and redemption: by our realistic situation of being creatures in an ambience of and affected by evil. As individuals we have from the start only limited independence that remains always relative: so, too, with religious institutes in the Church. Appreciating the Role of Obligation Here it may be important to digress somewhat to consider the bias that supports the current canonical system. It is a philosophical/theological con-struct characterized by valuing status, common good and obligation. This is so in contrast to more recent philosophical/theological constructs character-ized by valuing human dignity, individual advantage and personal rights. Neither need be mutually exclusive of, or in direct contradiction to, the other. But both have often appeared so. Even with the advances of the last few centuries and the affirmations of recent popes and the articulations of Vatican Council II, the former con-struct is the one that clearly underlies the new law. In the new code, the communal context of "status" constantly qualifies any affirmations of equality in dignity. In it, the common good--perceived as a set of conditions enabling the attainment of reasonable objectives for the sake of which individuals have decided to collaborate--is clearly prior to independent, indi-vidual advantage. In it, rights are subordinate to and conditioned upon duties intrinsic to the Gospel and to our social nature. In it, the protection of rights is for the sake of fuller participation in one's evangelical and social obliga-tions. And in it, patriarchal paradigms and male-dominated linear images still predominate. But what of the alternative constructs? What of, for example, the philosophical and theological mind-set that emerges from the social contract and human rights theories of Hobbes, Locke and Rousseau? These are to a great extent the basis of our constitutional republic and the foundation of American civil law and jurisprudence. Prescinding from their equally patriarchal paradigms and male-dominated linear images, note that social-contract and human-rights theories appear to posit the pristine existence of free, independent but highly vulnerable individuals willing to ransom a portion of personal autonomy for collective security. Rights are the "playing Canonical Considerations / 675 cards" or the "poker chips" of the barter: some cannot be relinquished (these are termed "inalienable"); others can be relinquished but can also be recalled (in breach of contract). It may appear, at times, that the institu-tional Church would be much better off with a healthy dose of American civil liberties incorporated into its legal system: with a civil rights basis; with non-hierarchical checks and balances; with protection by administrative pro-cedures; with guarantees of prior notification, due process, provision for counsel, and the like. And, for the most part, this is probably not only an accurate observation but also a viable possibility and partial reality. Witness, for instance, the numerous appeals boards and administrative tribunals that already exist in many religious institutes and dioceses to complement the heavily hierarchical Church system. Indeed, it is clear that these two systems are not, and need not be considered, contradictory or mutually exclusive. Nevertheless, there is a significant difference between the Medieval and Enlightenment mind-sets, and the difference is crucial for ecclesiastical law and especially for religious institutes. Social-contract and human-rights con-structs, while very affirming of life and dignity in theory, are singularly inept at guaranteeing life and dignity to the individual from the community in practice. This is because one finds in them no legal locus of obligation. They are based, if you will, on the implicit myth that somewhere there exists a Utopian world of perfectly free humans who have no alienated or usurped rights and who experience no unresolved conflicts, individually or collectively. Reality is not quite so Utopian. So, for example, in the American social-contract/ human-rights systems, suppose you are .walking over a bridge beneath which there is someone in the water drowning. Note that, even though the drowning person has affirmed rights to life, education, suitable housing, equal-opportunity employment, a just wage, and more, there is absolutely no civil-law focus of obligation for anyone to come to his or her aid. This is not to say there is no moral obligati?n to come tothe person's aid, but there is no legal one. In fact, the legal system--because of numerous possibilities for litigation--at times seems even to militate against fulfillment of one's moral obligations in such situations. And note that we are not discussing here the medical/moral/legal subtleties of prenatal life or of the terminally ill. We simply have a recognizably fully alive human being with numerous affirmed rights who ends up quite dead because of lack of legal obligation in the system itself. In sharp contrast, the Aristotelian/Thomistic system of law, and even further back the Judaic/Talmudic system of law, are based primarily on obligations: common, mutual, reciprocal obligations that arise from a cor-porate experience. The Hebrew, the Christian, the religious is chosen-- passive voice--be it at Sinai, through the Last Supper, or by a call to conse- 676 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 crated life. We are chosen. This is not to suggest that we, therefore, have no responsibilities; but rather, to highlight the fact that the initiative is God's. Only the response is ours. Thus it is the beginning of our system's notion of legal obligation that becomes the crucial difference in the end.~ We do not begin by bartering away any pristine "rights." We receive a gift, with consequences. The legal constructs of our lives relate to divine events in and through which everything necessary for the eternal salvation of everyone for all ages has somehow already been given, in some sense even commanded. They are the same divine events in and through which we have freely assumed personal perpetual obligations. And they provide for an amazing absence of Utopian myths. For there is in salvation history ample evidence of human failure, outright betrayal, personal and collective infidelity, repeated digressions, and an uncanny unwillingness to live up to our part of the bargain. In contrast, on the part of God, there is ample evidence of long-suffering patience, relentless forgiveness and unswerving fidelity to the promise of mercy. Moreover, if we do not read the Gospel too selectively, even after having done everything expected, you and I have no basic right or even a distant claim to any reward whatsoever, although we are assured in the end of attaining the greatest possible goal. Situating Obligation in Hierarchical Structures The importance of proper law--the law that obtains for one's own insti-tute- has already been mentioned in regard to fostering the current transition in the paradigms of religious life. Proper law is also crucial to any element of self-determination and just autonomy within the Church's hierarchical structure. And the central element of ecclesiastical proper law, as well as ecclesiastical universal law, is the locus of incumbent obligation. This is what gives our laws content and objectivity for assuring the protection of values and the exercise of rights, even if these values and rights are not directly named as such. In fact, whether or not the values and rights are actually named in the law is of minimal importance. Perhaps at this point an example is in order. There is an ancient principle of Roman Law which states: Where there is a right, there is a remedy (Ubi ius, ibi remedium). It is in the logical contrapositive that we more readily recognize the truth of the principle, namely: If there is no remedy to be found for violation of an affirmed right, there is really no right at all. With this in mind, let us proceed to the example. It is an example not taken from ttie~ law for religious so that the content will not distract from the point intend~dl. Chnon 22'1! §'2',of~ the 1983 code states: If the Christian faithful are sum- Canonical Considerations / 677 moned to judgment by c6mpetent authority, they have the right to be judged in accord with the prescriptions of law applied with equity. It sounds wonder-ful. But what is there to guarantee that this will, indeed, be the case? The answer: incumbent obligations and opportunities to insist on their fulfill-ment as provided in the canons on judicial procedures. °The affirmed right of c. 221 §2 can be vindicated because all tribunal personnel must take an oath that they will fulfill their functions properly and faithfully (c. 1454). All tribunal personnel must disqualify themselves from involvement in cases concerning: (1) persons with whom they have a first-cousin or closer relationship, (2) persons for whom they are guardians or trustees~ (3) persons with whom they have a close friendship or for whom they feel a great animosity, as well as (4) those instances in which they desire to make a profit or avoid some loss (c. 1448). And if the tribunal personnel do not disqualify themselves, the parties in the case can lodge an objection (c. 1229) to which the court must attend before the trial can continue (c. 1451). All tribunal personnel are forbidden to accept any gifts whatsoever for the performance of their duties (c. 1456). And any tribunal personnel are subject to penalties, including loss of office, if they refuse to deal with a case for which they are competent, or attempt to deal with a case for which they are not competent, or violate the law of secrecy, or inflict damage on the parties out of malice or serious negligence (c. 1457). In other words, these procedural canons--specifying as they do the legal locus of obligations and providing the opportunity to insist that the obliga-tions be fulfilled--are really what give canonical force to c. 221 §2. But the point is this: These canons, albeit with different numbers, were also in the former code. The affirmation of current c. 221 §2 was not. How much this newly affirmed "right" would mean without these related obligations is questionable, for indeed: If there is no remedy, there is really no right. And how much this newly incorporated right actually adds to the related, already long-standing procedures still remains to be seen. All the foregoing in norway intends to ignore the fact that. even in the best of legal systems incumbent obligations can upon occasion be observed primarily in the breach. The intention is, rather, to provide a clear under-standing of the importance of obligations in the Church's legal system in order to investigate more meaningfully the numerous obligations contained in the canons concerning religious institutes. Religious Institutes and Obligations To begin our discussion, as well as to illustrate the complexity of the: interrelationships among canons, let us consider thosecanons contaii~ed under the title "Obligations and Rights of Institutes and of their Members,." cc. 678 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 662-672. As often as one might comb the (official Latin) text of the canons, there is not one strict right (ius) to be found. But at this point in the presenta-tion, such a discovery should be no great surprise: It is the locus of incumbent obligation, not the affirmation of rights, that is the substantive base for our legal system. Moreover, listed in these canons there are numerous obliga-tions from which it is clear that what other legal systems call "rights" will be respected even though not mentioned by name. To pursue the practical content of obligations/rights in the code as related to self-determination, just autonomy and hierarchical structure, we will isolate one of the canons in this section and investigate its canonical consequences. Perhaps the most important obligation listed in this set of canons is that of c~ 670: Each institute must (debet) supply for its members all those things necessary for attaining the end of their vocation. The debet is canonically preceptive language. The subject, object, and matter of the obligation are, respectively, the institute, its members, and necessities. Proper law should certainly address itself to the objective meaning of "necessities," and the meaning should have some reference to what is justly judged so in an equit-able manner by competent authority within the norms, structures, and resources of a particular institute. There is some problem, to be sure, with relating mandated necessities to the end of one's vocation when that end ultimately transcends temporal realities and, thus, is effectively precluded from the possibility of practical evaluation. But consequences of the mandate in c. 670 are extensive and have already been addressed by canonists.2 At the very least, this obligation on the part of institutes is interpreted as requiring those in positions, of government to provide for, and as giving members a corresponding right to: (1) sound, complete, approved proper law, (2) structural provision for general chapters, superiors and councils, (3) systematic formation, (4) stable community life, (5) suitable options for apostolic action or internal work in accord with the institute's mission, and (6) appropriate material goods and .opportunities for ongoing health care, formation, work and renewal. Note that none of the mutual obligations/rights in this list are meaningful except as connected to a coherent legal system that can guarantee their fulfill-ment. And recall that in Church law the locus of incumbent obligation is what provides objective content and procedural safeguards for affirmed or unaffirmed rights. It is the locus of incumbent obligation that is the basis for whatever down-ward or lateral accountability might exist in our hierarchical system, which Canonical Considerations / 679 operates primarily on the intrinsic principle of upward accountability. That is, in fulfilling well the obligations it has towards its members (i.e., its down-ward accountability), any institute is also more than likely fulfilling its obliga-tions towards the other elements of the hierarchical structure (i.e., its lateral and upward accountability). Simply put, an institute cares for downward accountability by attending to the legal obligations it has towards its members. It does this by providing for at least the six categories mentioned as flowing from the requirement of c. 670. But in so doing the institute is not only protecting the rights of individual members. It is also establishing itself on a sound operational basis for relating to equivalent juridic persons, such as other religious institutes, in lateral accountability. And it is likewise con-tributing to its own just autonomy in the upward accountability of the insti-tute to higher authorities in the hierarchical structure. Thus, all of the mutual obligations/rights that derive from c. 670 are directly or indirectly related to the question of an institute's existence and just autonomy. But the motive for action and the locus of accountability in c. 670-- fulfilling obligations toward members--shift the focus for the institute from that of accepting the collective imposition of alien restrictions to that of guaranteeing the possible pursuance of someone's response to having been chosen. It is possible to approach this accountability from an entirely different perspective, namely: from the recog-nition of just autonomy for religious institutes in c. 586. Indeed, the result of beginning with c. 586 might even be somewhat similar, as will be seen in the next section. Yet the basis for action in the former approach is probably more canonically sound. Religious Institutes and Just Autonomy Canon 586 states that it belongs to local ordinaries to preserve and protect (servare ac tueri) the autonomy of each institute. In the same canon "just autonomy of life, especially of government" is recognized by universal law. The canon goes on to describe this "just autonomy" as that by which insti-tutes enjoy (gaudeant) their own discipline and have the power to pre~serve (servare valeant) their patrimony3 intact. The patrimony of an institute of consecrated life is described in c. 578 as the intention and purpose of the founders/foundresses, sanctioned by competent ecclesiastical authority, con-cerning the nature, end, spirit and character of the institute as well as its sound traditions. The canon adds that this patrimony is to be faithfully preserved (servanda est) by all. Elsewhere, in c. 631 § 1, the general chapter is given special responsibility both to protect (tueri) the institute's patrimony as described in c. 587 and to promote its appropriate renewal (accommodatam renovationem). Still elsewhere in c. 587 §1, institutes must (debent) incor-porate into their constitutions .whatever is established regarding their 680 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 patrimony in order to faithfully protect (ad. fide#us tuendam) the voca-tion and identity of their instutute. Another set of canons is also pertinent to the investigation at hand: cc. 675 §1, 611 #2, 677 §1, and 671. The first states that in apostolic institutes apostolic action is part of their very nature (ipsam eorundem naturam). The second states that a bishop's consent for canonical erection of a religious house includes the right (ius) to exercise the works proper to the institute according to the norm of law and within any restrictions contained in the consent. The third states that superiors and members of institutes should faithfully retain (fide#ter retineanO and prudently accommodate (prudenter accommodenO the mission and works of their institute. And the fourth states that members may not undertake pgsitions outside of those proper to the institute,without the permission of legitimate superiors. Both the language and the interplay of all these canons are significant. The patrimony of any institute, or, if you will, the meaningful heritage or expres-sion of its charism, is somehow to be contained in its proper law. Note that this is the same sound, complete, approved proper law to which membe~-s have a right by reason of the obligation in c. 670. And this patrimony is to be preserved by all--an unqualified and inclusive all--according to c. 578. Con-stitutions (c. 587), general chapters (c. 631), and local ordinaries (c. 586) are each required (using some form of the same Latin verb, tueor) to protect the institute's patrimony. Chapters have the responsibility to renew it (c. 631), while superiors and members have the ability to retain and accommodate certain aspects of it (c. 677). Now for the sake of example, let us suppose that an institute has been founded whose nature is apostolic, whose purpose is to practice the corporal works of mercy, whose spirit is non-monastic, and whose character, because of its purpose, is for the most part one of commitment to individual rather than to collective apostolates. Let us also suppose that the instutute is of pontifical right, that it has three canonically erected houses in three dioceses, and that its members are present in seven other dioceses in which the institute has n6 canonically erected houses. Finally, let us suppose that a member of this institute, with appropriate permission from internal authorities and fulfilling the norms of universal and proper law, is exercising an apostolate which the diocesan bishop does not wish this person to exercise in the diocese entrusted to his care. The stage is set, is it not, for the play of tensions commonly experienced between just autonomy and hierarchical structure? Without being facetious, let me suggest further that the script for this act of the play commonly has the religious entering stage left, the bishop entering stage right, and all defini-tive action coming Deus ex machina from above. The entire performance Canonical Considerations / 681 is usually viewed only through the opera glasses of a communications media well known for its ability to distort the factual while filling lacunae with unfounded conjecture. When the curtain falls, there are inevitable winners and losers, but who belongs to which category most often depends on where you were seated--center orchestra, third balcony, backstage, or in the wings. And usually the real issues have neither been well addressed nor even partially solved, while genuine Christian values, not to mention Christian people, have more than likely been forgotten or neglected or badly battered during the performance. As a canonist, this writer holds there are viable alternatives to the above scenario. For, if law does nothing else for us in the Church, it ought to at least be able to function as the impartial arbiter in cases of conflict. How well it can do this for cases such as the above, however, depends on how clearly and thoroughly obligations are both delineated in proper law and fulfilled by those responsible for them. But, to return to the case and the question at hand: Can the bishop prohibit the religious from exercising the apostolate in the diocese entrusted to his care? If you view it from the per-spective of the religious--to use familiar phraseologywthe "bad news" is that he probably can, because ultimately all religious are subject to the power of the bishop in apostolic works (c. 678 §1). The "good news" is that such a prohibition would be very difficult in some circumstances. Needless to say, if you are looking at this case from the vantage point of the bishop, the content of the answer is exactly the same: The prohibition is probably possible but possibly very difficult. The law, you see, is rather objective and can be an impartial arbiter in such matters, even though the "goodness" or "badness", attributed to the content would probably be reversed (and logically so) in the judgment of the bishop. Why is it probably possible but possibly very difficult for the bishop to forbid the religious from exercising an apostolate in the diocese entrusted to his care? The answer, to be canonically sound, requires a careful investi-gation of the canons previously mentioned. If the institute is an apostolic one, then apostolic works are part of its nature by law (c. 675). The nature of an institute as sanctioned by ecclesiastical authority is part of its patri-mony to be preserved°by all (c. 578) and contained in its constitutions (c. 587). The power to preserve this patrimony is part of an institute's legally recognized just autonomy of life, and local ordinaries are to preserve and protect this autonomy (c. 586). Regarding just autonomy of life, on the one hand, it cannot be restricted merely to internal matters or only to government. If autonomy is restricted to internal matters, then the understanding of religious life under universal law would be a dichotomized, compartmentalized one. The code takes great 682 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 pains to indicate that this is clearly not the case, and especially for the apostolic activity of apostolic institutes (cc. 662, 673, 675). Furthermore, if autonomy is restricted to the institute's internal government, then the just autonomy "especially of government" recognized in c. 586 is a meaningless phrase even canonically. On the other hand, if any apostolate is fundamental to an institute and if any autonomy in regard to this apostolate is to be recognized, then the apostolate must be clearly articulated in the institute's constitutions. If it is clearly articulated in the constitutions, and if the institute has a canon-cially erected house in the diocese, then this includes a strict right (ius) to exercise proper-law apostolate(s) of the institute from this house (c. 611 #2). Note, however, that while the institute has this right, each and every member of the institute is not necessarily free to exercise the right. Canonists do agree that, in granting consent for a religious house, a diocesan bishop can restrict some of the institute's activities for all of the members or all of the institute's activities for some of the members. But they also agree that he cannot restrict all of the institute's activities for all of the members. If he judges this extreme restriction necessary, he simply ought not to grant consent for establishing the house. Thus, in response to the case, if: - there is a constitutionally established apostolate - exercised by a member of the institute -~with proper internal permissions ~ according to universal law (i.e., legally) -. from a canonically established house -to which no general or specific apostolic restrictions have been attached, it would be very difficult for the bishop to prevent the religious from continuing the apostolic activity. The prohibition would not be impossible, however, because it is provided by c. 679, that if: - the bishop judges there is a most grave cause - after having referred the matter to the major superior - and if the major superior does not take appropriate action - the bishop can prohibit the religious from remaining in the diocese. But this action constitutes a penalty (c. 1327 §1) which means that -the procedure for application of penalties is to be followed (cc. 1341-1353) - no steps may be dispensed with (c. 87) 7 all wording must be interpreted strictly (c. 18) - the constitutions of the institute may not be violated (c. 1327 §1) and - the bishop must immediately inform the Holy See of his action (c. 679). Canonical Considerations / 683 Whence, the answer given above must contain an important qualification: The prohibition is probably possible but possibly very difficult only if the initial legal obligations regarding apostolate, houses and constitutions have been fulfilled by the institute to which the member belongs. But such is not usually the case, is it? For the most part situations arise in which it is clear that one or many of the above legal obligations have not been fulfilled and, consequently, the rights involved are not well protected. It often happens that the institute has no canonically erected house in the diocese. Then there is simply no right for the institute or any of its member to exercise any apostolate there. If they do so, they do so at the good will of the bishop who can subsequently forbid what he has previously permitted. The written agreements between diocesan bishops and competent superiors, which are now required by c. 681 when entrusting works to religious, might possibly give the religious a cause for civil-law action in the case of a breach of contract, but this could only occur if the agreements were poorly composed canonically in the first place. One might add that adhering to the require-ment for these written agreements, which are supposed to include the type of work involved, could possibly identify potential conflicts such as the above case in their incipient stages. It also often happens that a particular activity exercised by a religious is not mentioned--or at least not referred to in a specific enough manner--to definitively include it in the constitutionally approved elements of the insi-tute's apostolate. The competent internal authority by making a practical interpretation in the course of good government may judge that this specific activity is included within the constitutionally approved elements of its aposto-late. But if this practical interpretation is challenged and recourse is had to the competent external authority, the interpretation of the authority who approved the constitutions in the first place is the one that prevails. Another common occurrence is practical accommodation of an institute's mission and apostolic works by the superiors and members in accord with c. 677. An institute may adapt its apostolate from educating orphans, for instance, to educating Blacks or Hispanics. Or, again, an institute may relin-quish nursing in hospitals in order to serve in home-nursing ministries. Some-times these accommodations are not subsequently or accurately incorporated into one's constitutions by a general chapter. But legal affirmation of such adjustments is both the obligation and prerogative of general chapters accord-ing to c. 631. If general chapters do not fulfill their obligations by providing an adequate update of an institute's proper law, the "good news" and "bad news" for the religious will be rendered as mentioned above. Three other forms of apostolic accommodation are also common and can be far more problematic, namely: 684 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 (1) defining the institute's mission and apostolate in so generic a manner that almost any apostolic activity can be included in them, (2) including in the institute's mission and apostolate some activities that appear to be only indirectly connected with its patrimony, and (3) including in the institute's mission and apostolate those activities which relate closely to those prohibited for religious in universal law. It would be unrealistic--if not grandiose--to attempt a treatment here of the specifics of each of these instances, but all three can certainly be recog-nized as occasions for another play of tensions between just autonomy and hierarchical structure. In the process of approval of constitutions, competent ecclesiastical authorities often perceive these instances as fostering generic vagueness or minute inclusiveness or institutional challenges: Their response is usually to request or to mandate adjustments in wording and/or content. This is often viewed by the institutes both as a violation of their just auto-nomy and as a negation of their renewal experiences. There is no doubt that the attitudes of those involved in the dialogues concerning constitutional revision are crucial to the results. In the first case just suggested, there can be--but need not be--a real danger of dissipating an institute's resources by too extensive a diversification within a generic category, such as education or health care or social justice. In the second, there can be, but need not be, a noble attempt to "legitimize" the activity of every member, however diversified, by incorporating it by name into the institute,s proper law. In the third, there can be, but need not be, a genuine and necessary prophetic challenge to the gradually institutionalized: restrictions on Gospel imperatives. Whether competent authorities and reli-gious institutes approach these and similar situations from a stance of polari-zation and confrontation or from a stance of pluralism and constructive compromise alters the "flashpoint" of the matter involved. A "flashpoint" is the degree of flammability of combustible materials. Most readers will probably be aware that there have been many tenuous "flashpoints" approached and passed by the interaction of hierarchy and religious--as well as among religious themselves--throughout history. Such opposition and conflict, indeed, utter conflagrations at times, have been regrettable and are certainly not to be excused.4 But in the interaction of religious charism and ecclesial institution they will always be potentially present. Suggestions are sometimes made that religious institutes experiencing great charism/hierarchical tensions might opt for what is referred to as "non-canonical" status. Legally speaking "non-canonical" is a misnomer as well as an almost impossible option. Religious institutes are by law public juridic persons (c. 634, 116 §2). Canonical Considerations / 685 This means they automatically have a "canonical status" which can also be described as legal standing or public authentication within the ecclesial structure. This status is understood to guarantee the soundness of the insti-tute's charism and traditions, to empower the duly elected officers of the institute forgoverning, and to confer a mandate on the institute (and its members) for apostolic activities. It is quite clear in Church law that only the appropriate ecclesiastical authorities--namely, Diocesan ]~ishops or the Apostolic See--can erect religious institutes (cc. 576, 578-579, 589), can approve and accept the charisms of founders and foundresses (c. 578), and can officially interpret and moderate the practice of the evangelical counsels (c. 576). Any public juridic person in the Church is by law a "perpetual" entity and can be legitimately extinguished only by competent authority (c. 120 §1). The Apostolic See alone is able to suppress an institute of consecrated life once it has been canonically erected (c. 584). On the occasion of such sup-pression, the disposition of the goods of the institute, which are by law "ecclesiastical goods" (c. 1257), belongs to the Apostolic See (c. 584) unless the approved statutes of the public juridic person (i.e., the institute's proper law) provide otherwise (c. 123). Thus, the material possessions of any religious institute, as well as the final decisions regarding what is to be done with them, do not belong ultimately to the institute or to its members but to the institutional Church. Moreover, religious institutes are "collegial" public juridic persons (c. 115 §2) andas such continue to exist (unless suppressed) as long as there is one surviving member, upon whom all the rights and obliga-tions of the institute devolve (c. 120 §2). For two major reasons, therefore, it is not legally realistic for a religious institute as such to become "non-canonical" in response to the tensions experienced in the interplay of the institute's charism and hierarchical struc-tures: (1) suppression of a religious institute is difficult to accomplish and (2) truly non-canonical status is almost impossible to find. First, an institute does not have the authority to suppress itself; and it is rare that all members of an institute might opt for requesting suppression by the Apostolic See. If such were the case., however, the juridic person could totally cease to exist. But if even a few chose to remain and were allowed to do so, these few would then enjoy all the rights and assume all the obligations of the still existing original religious institute. The ecclesiastical goods of the institute would also be subject to the care and control of the remaining members according to Church law? In other words, the mem-bers of any religious institute cannot simply decide to self-destruct the juridic person and head off into the sunset, each fortified with his or her own "piece 686 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 of the (institutional) rock." Second, even if an institute were sup

Issue 35.6 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; ,,,,llllili,,,~,iililli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited by faculty members of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1976 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1976 Volume 35 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVXEW yon RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REvmw voa RELICIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at $4th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Theological Reflection Donald J. Keefe, S.J. Father Keefe, on the faculty of the Department of Theological Studies; St. Louis University; St. Louis, MO 63103, has been a frequent reviewer in these pages. Presently he is on sabbatical leave and is residing in the Jesuit Community; Fordham Univer-sity; Bronx, NY 10458. Catholic Schools in a Declining Church, co-authored by Andrew Greeley, William McCready and Kathleen McCourt (Sheed and Ward, 1976) has attained a prominence in religious publication ,which is perhaps comparable to that of Hans~ Kiing's In[allible? An Inquiry. Their common success fol-lows a common formula: each purports to present a scholarly basis for a radical criticism of the institutional Church. Each is underwritten by a prominent figure in the Catholic world, Consequently, each has~a political significance which is independent of the intrinsic merits of its critique. Each has been given instant notoriety in th.e popular press and each, in its fashion, is symptomatic of what seems to be a pervasive dissatisfaction within Cath-olic academic circles regarding what are felt to be inappropriate responses of the Church to the contemporary world. Finally, each reflects a similar impatience with the "official" ecclesiology, one which understands the Church as "the sacramental sign of the Kingdom of God: KiJng's rejection of this ecclesiology, long since explicitl does not concern us here. Rather we are coficerned with the ecclesiology implicit in Catholic Schools in a De- ,clining Church, particularly insofar as this bears upon Greeley's judgment that the encyclical,.Humanae Vitae, is simply a disaster. Greeley's salient theological conclusion is that, by reason of a funda-mental failure in communication, the official Church, though, revivified by the reforms of Vatican II, has, in the publication of Humanae Vitae, entered 801 802 / Review ]or Religious,: Volume 35, 1976/6 upon a suicidal rejection of 'its own reality-in-history by rejecting the morality of artificial contraception; and this despite the fact that~ the greater part of the Catholi6 people find no impropriety in such practices. Certain normative presuppositions undergird Greeley's conclusion: .1 ) The Catholic Church is as fit a subject for sociological analysis as any other social .entity. It is quite as permeable to this kind of scrutiny'as, for example, would be the Democratic Party. 2) The actual meaning of events, as these occur in the history of the Church, is that meaning which this kind of investigation reveals. Thus, for example, an event is "disastrous" when its effects, as measured by sociolog-ical criteria, are found to be destructive. These presuppositions are merely expressions of the demand for auton-omy which every intellectual inquiry, regardless of its object, makes as a matter of course. Every science is in search of the unity of truth. The syn-thetic or conclusion-reaching aspect of any science is no more than an expression of confidence in the power of its own method to integrate into a comprehensive understanding all the scattered data which its inquiry un-covers. There.is a kind of arrogance associated with any disciplined attempt to understand, for it supposes an ability to transcend, to dominate, ultimately to comprehend its object. Such intellectual self-sufficiency at a naive level raises no particular theological difficulties. But when it is given sophisticated expression as a method O[ knowledge, it can become an ideology, one which would pretend to offer a comprehensive criterion of truth and reality that would be analogous to, and necessarily competitive with the Christian faith itself. Such methodologies in fact become ideological when they refuse to admit the existence of any truth, of any reality beyond their grasp. They become ideological when they place prior limits upon-what can be "known," upon what can be "true." Over the centuries of the Church's history, such ideological convictions have continually troubled the faith of its community. Such convictions have been woven out of the tangled threads of rabbinical Judaism, of the Medi-terranean mystery religions, of the He~llenistic philogophies which were contemporaneous with the early Church. With the dawn of the Middle Ages, the first introduction of Aristotle)~ logic prbvided a new challenge to the faith. In the late Renaissance, there was a c~omparableenthu~iasm for yet another powerful intellectual resource: "scientific method," with its ac-companying mathematics, began to be exalted as the ~nique mode of .access to certitude. By the end o~ the eighteenth century, this confidence had waned. The Romantic period then found in the humanistic study of history and in nascent sociology a new key to the human enigma. Truth is no longer to be r~garded as something "out there." Rather it is seen as the proper Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection / 1~03 achievement of human societies in history--a history which is fundamentally in human hands, open to human analysis and exhaustive comprehension. This, too, fed the formation of ideologies. Common to all such ways of knowing iS the problem of their "conver-sion." The value ofthese works of human intelligence is enormous, in-dispensable. How can they be conformed to the Catholic faith, enter into a Catholic intellectuality? The claim that they cannot be. so conformed is still heard, both from those who too much love and from those who too much fear the new learning. For those who love too much, such a conversion would put an end to the "autonomy of science." For those who "too much fear," such a conVersion would end by relativizing the faith. Perhaps the simplest reply to such claims is to point out their futility. The objection that the "conversion" of an otherwise autonomous method of scientific inquiry would write finis to its independence rests upon an outdated notion of scientific method, the philosophical roots of which were undercut by Kant.~The intrinsic dilemmas of this method were demon-strated half a century ago by Heisenberg's0principle of indetermination. In point of fact, Descartes' dream of a universal science remains a dream, a dream tied to a time now remote. In our day, it survives only as an ideology of a peculiarly old-fashioned sort, kept alive' largely by social engineers' such as B. F. Skinner with his form of determinism. In such hands, this ideology becomes a kind of salvation, scheme by which the unpredictability, the enigmatic character of historical humanity is remedied by the elimina-tion of those human attributes which permit the emergence of historical' novelty: freedom and personal responsibility. The reduction of humanity to fungible integers thus finally makes possible a mathematically accurate calculus and control of the human. Such an ideology is really nothing more than eighteenth-century,Enlight-enment optimism, which wasn't even taken seriously by its own proponents. They wouldn't dream of submitting themselves to this~kind of salvation-scheme. Yet it is precisely in the. proliferation of ~such salvation-schemes that there comes,to be most clearly evident scientific method's need for a radication in a faith which transcends it. On the other hand, the point of view we indicated above as that which fears the relativizing of faith by any application to it of a free inquiry has its exemplars in the long line of rigofists who have always been present in the,Church. First there were the Judaizers of whom Paul complains. There was Marcion in the next century, Tertullian in the third. There have been the ever-present battalions of "hypertraditionalists," those who fear that a free future must :be open to~ sin and corruption, and would, on that account, foreclose the.History of Salvation in the name of salvation itself, 'quite as would their counterparts, the social, engineers. But their historical pessimism is the less excusable because the faith they are zealous to defend 804 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 is precisely a faith in the Lord of History whose creation is good and whose presence in. the world makes its history to be salvific. It is then as illusory for the scientist to fear the conversion of his methodology to the service of the Catholic faith as it is perverse for the committed Cathblic unduly to°fear the scientific inquiry which such a .con-version would unleash. Still, the mutuality of science and. of the Catholic faith is easier to envisage than it is to achieve. While the sunny confidence in a salvation-to- be-wrought-by-reason has waned somewhat since the age of optimism that was' ended in the blo~d,soaked fields at Verdun and. the Somme in World War ~, the practitioners of the social sciences, however mindful they ¯ be of the oft-cited perils of "Helleriization," still tend, to be less than troubled by the demonic potential of~their own saeculum, by the resistance of their own cultural commonplace--scientific method t6 conVersion. Not a little of this resistance is the fruit of the recognition by Vatican II that the world is not alienated from the concerns of the Church. Indeed, the autonomy of the secular in its own realm is there explicitly stated, bring-ing with it the enfranchisement of the scholar to do his work without con-cern for received opinions among churchme.n in regard to matters which are properly within his province. In Vatican II, historical and social re-search were liberated from all pious dishonesty. Catholic confidence in the ultimate goodness of fallen historicity required no less. " Since that time, Catholics have become accustomed, as they were not before the Council, to a view of an historical Church "with warts on." For many, perhaps for most,~ this new outlook was traumatic. Accustomed hitherto to think of the Church in terms of such attributes as militancy, witness, inerrancy, historical unity and the like, they were suddenly con-fronted by the countering of these commonplaces with other assertions of the Church's' documented cowardliness, conformism, error, division and so on. Indeed, these wer, e not seldom presented as conclusive refutations of the traditional faith in the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church: More, and worse, these charges had a kind of ecclesial warrant--the "spirit of Vatican II." This spirit more and more often found expression in terms, of an active antagonism to the Catholic past. In particular, the validity of tradition and of the authority of the Church were challenged in the heretofore sacrosanct realm of sexuality. In this realm scarcely any element of the Church's faith or practice was without its learned opposition. In its opposition, argument rested not on historical research--for the.con-stancy of the moral tradition was quite clear--but upon what was con-sidered to be "the religious insignificance" of sexuality. From the vantage point of modern psychology and sociology, Catholic emphasis upon the sacramentality of sex, which found expression in the condemnation of certain sexual practices as being immoral, in the prohibition of clerical marriage, Catholic Schools in a Declining Church." A Reflection / 805 and of the ordination of women, was viewed as simply mistaken. Sociology and psychology were thought to provide a sufficient explanation for the origin of these, rules and 'condemmitions, while at the same time, these same disciplines,seemedzunable to find any present justification for con-tinuing such norms. Underlying such. conclusions was the presupposition that "whatever can be given a secular explanation must be so explained." Of course, this is a denial of the sacramental'significance of historical humanity. It represents a retrogression to thht .primitive mentality which .identifies religion~ with magic. In this' way,~, all holiness, all religious value~in the everyday, non-marvelous, commonplace human life in the world comes to be ignored. In such a circumstance, the Church has nothing to say to this~world; for the Church is seen to exist ,only~to provide :illusion for a dwindling clientele. Whoever would challenge the Churchqn such terms really cannot expect a heating' .The Church must~refuse the postulates of.iany science-become-idei~ logy. (3riticis .ms of the Church based on the validity-of such postulates do not bear upon reality. ,They leave .no common ground fore discussion. The authenticity of the Church's teaching and practice does not--and can~ notqwait upon certification from any secular tribunal. Greeley, oin his critique, like Kting, fo~-gets ,this, ~though not to, the point of the latter's explicit denial of the Church's sacramental and causal' relationship to the fulfilled Kingdom of God., Rather, Greeley~ simply does not advert to it. Still, the net effect'is the same.~When the Church is treated for purposes of the laboratory as' merely*an empirical datum, its sacramental character is ignored. The laboratory is not concerned with the truth and effectiveness of a sacramental sign. Yet the Chur~h,~can be understooddn her reality only insofar as he'r history is aqknowledged to, be the~uniquely effective sacra-mental instrument through which humanity, regardless of its historical di-versity, its contention and sin, is~ ultimately redeemed from its fallenness and raised to fulfillment by the.Lord of History.°tf this sacramental reality is not admitted at the outset, the,~Church becomes something debatable, a matter for dispute,, bringing us back to the format of what is, .after all, an obsolete apologetic: a profitless debate over the Church"s worthiness and/or unworthiness. In Catholic'. Schools in a De'clining Church, the worthiness/ finworthiness preoccupation is' mdni[est: the-Church-as-worthy is~,seen to be the-Church-as-popular. ,: ¯ ~- And yet, if it qs right to be wary of an ecclesiology which w~ould, sub-mit the Church to some .sup'erior academic wisdom, it would be quite an-other thing to conclude that the., Church need not respond .to criticisms which the academy cannot but, offer it. Conversation _between the two, however, can take place only where there is a foreswearing of,funda-mentalism On the one hand_and of doctrinaire scientism on the other. Only thus could there, come" into being a common universe of discourse. Necessarily~,ifivolved in this is a recognition by the Church that its doc- 806 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 trine is given historical utterance for the sake of beginning new discussion quite as much as for the sake of punctuating an antecedent one. Necessarily involved is a recognition by the scientist that, when .all his data are collated, the inferences they support must be_ framed as questions, and as problems, not as doctrine in competition with the faith. It is by no means easy to preserve the conditions for such an exchange. Good will is, only the first of these. Ultimately the demand of such condi-tions is met by the recognition of what is actually taking place in such_a conversatibn. It represents an interchange between the faith of the Church and the questing reason of its members '(,which is called theology). It repre-sents the transformation of an otherwise purely secular scientific interest, a transformation imperated by its application to the Revelation.which is given in Christ.In this application, a given discipline accepts as the object of its inquiry a reality whose truth cannot be utterly controlled by its methodology, which it can only approach in a posture which is fundamentally one of worship. When .this attitude of worship fails, the exaggerated claim bf autonomy is thereby taken up again, and the transcendence~ of the Church's truth, of its faith, is rejected out of hand for the sake of "truly scientific objectivity." When such a rejection is misunderstood by'th~ Catholic faithful, when it is presumed to be normative for the scholarly enterprise, the opposite extreme becomes unavoidable: the sacramental holiness of the world and the historical character of the worship of the Church are equally sup: pressed. And the conversation which was originally ambitioned disintegrates into mutual recrimination. The changes rung on this theme are indefinitely numerous. In sum,. they preface and. finally constitute an aversion for the historical faith of the Catholic community in favor of those alternatives whose name is legion. All of this has been remarked sufficiently over the centuries. In the abstract, it is easy enough to see the need for a mutuality between Church and academy, but the realization of such a mutuality is continually im-peded byo the fallenness which mars us all. We are, all and. always in the sway of the~emptation to revert to a pessimistic status quo ante in terms of which the revealed compatibility of God and man, of the Church and the world; of faith and reason can be shown to be absurd, a fiction that is unworthy of man and derisory of God. Thisois a universal failing: It is no more characteristic of the academy than 'of the cloister, of the chancery than of the market. In either case, reductively we are seeking to denature God's good creation by rationalizing and objectifying its sacramental truth and unity.~By such devices we frag-ment our world: We trivialize and compartmentalize our world into isolated bits. And this becomes prelude for dismissing from our lives~ actual his-torical meaning, its sacramentality, the holiness of its totality. Whether done in the name of an ecclesial or a secular piety, what is Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection / 807 achieved is a flight from the threatening mystery of our historical existence, from our need to be sustained in it by the Lord of History, and from our share in the crucifixion by which it is redeemed. Thus is worked out some very bad theolggy--and not only by theologians, but by anyone who pre-scinds, from the sacramental structure of reality for the sake of judging reality. A sociological examination 6f the Church simply cannot avoid at least an implicit theological component. If, .supposing it to have been clearly affirmed, an equation were to be drawn between the Catholic Church and the Aristotelian "perfect society," an explicit ecclesiology--however wrong-headed--- necessarily follows. If, on the other hand, one omits any definition of the Church, but then proceeds to analyze it precisely in the same way as one would analyze the United Mine Workers or ,the Democratic Party or the Marine Corps, in other words as an empirical organization of people, a group adequately understood as responsive to the laws which govern all social organization-- then the ecclesiology involved is. perhaps less explicit, but no less operative. In either case, the Church is measured by categories which are quite extrinsic to the worship which gives it its structure. The result for that older theology was a Church whose "perfection" was in contradiction to its involvement in the fallenness of history resulting in an antiseptic notion of a Church apparently immune to history. Comparable (if inverted) distortions in our own time profess to find the Church's patent~involvement in sin a fact entirely incompatible with its claim to transcendent sacramental stature. The contemporary excesses of this "low" ecclesiology are quite as responsive to the'preoccupations of its own day as had been the earlier baroque triumphalism--and with as little profit. The living Church cannot be understood by the use of devices which would separate its history from its meaning thiough a denial of either part of its reality. It is of course possible to concede these truisms and still resist their corollary: that the Church of .our daily encounter, with its monumental confusion, cowardice, ignorance and complacency--in sum, with all the ills the spirit is heir :to--can be and is the earthly community in which the risen Christ is present and active in the outpouring of his Spirit. Surely one may attend with sympathy Dr. Robinson's "but I can't be-lieve that!" Particularly is.it hard to give to such a.Church a cash value by admitting, even demanding, an infallible Magisterium'. Such notions, it may seem, were perhaps credible before the dawn of historical consciousness. But they can hardly survive our contemporary understanding of the social and historical conditioning of the Church. This~is indeed a very possible conclusion--especially if we forget that it is precisely from this kind of despair of the temporal and human as being the medium bf God's presence that humanity was lifted by the faith, first Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 of the Jews, and then of ourselves who are their heirs, in theJdord of History who is present to hiss, people. He is present to his people not as a timeless and universal principle,, but in his Covenant, by which alone time has unity and significance, and thus is history: sacramental time. The salvific content of the events of which we are a part is quite as hard to accept today as it was at Meribah. It is indeed hard to believe that the concrete deeds and words of the Church across the .ages constitute the unique mediation of the risen Lord, for the Church is so obviously trapped, blinded, sullied and fragmented by its own historicity, by its own involve-ment in Sin. But precisely such a belief is integral with the Catholic faith. It is simply not negotiable. It is no news that there has been a developing reluctance within Catholic academic circles to give full value to the ecclesial-historical character of our redemption in Christ. This hesitation on the part of the acaderhy had focused on the Church's assertion of ,doctrinal unity and authority. But it has since broadened its front to the. extent that tradition itself is held to be discon~ tinuous within its own history, whether we are dealing with the. historical unity of the Church's doctrine or its moral or liturgical tradition. Thus it is deemed to be discontinuous within its own history, intrinsically incoherent, without value or~significance~ for the present time. In,sum, the unity of the Church has no historical expression, according to this view. Consequently the historical record, whether doctrinal, moral 'or liturgical~ is of purely academic interest. It lacks the necessary unity to support its claim to sacra-mental significance. The heart of this argument, of course, is the ancient conviction of the incompatibil.ity of'~God and man, heaven and earth, the present time and the egchatological golden age of fulfillment. Its pseudo-Christian version, Gnostic in its roots, denies that the community Of sinners; which constitutes the Church, can be the effedtive symbol, the sacrament of the fulfilled King-dom of God. This denial relies upon the perceived incongruity between the sacramental sign, whichLis ~the historical Church, .,and the effect claimed for it: the completed and fulfilled redemption of humanity in Christ. It was the mistake of' the Counter-Reformation apologetic to contest this visible incongruity, even though it is simply indisputable. To pretend the contrary leaves the apologete open to all the sacred dishonesty which characterizes a triumphalist reading of Church history. It is .not.because the Church is Worthy that she is "the sacrament of our encounter with God." It is by virtue of the presence of the risen Christ in her historical worship that the Church has her reality and her mission, not by virtue of her own probity, nor by any "works" of her own devising. It is this insight, fundamental to any valid ecclesiology, which demands Of the Catholic scholar a subordination, of his critical method to~the prior truth of his faith together with~ a surrender o of an~y delusory intellectual Catholic Sch~ools in a Declining Church." ,4 Reflection / 809, autonomy. In this 'way, while maintaining as its object, the full sacramental reality of the historical Church, the scholar's inquiry also retains intact its full integrity. The radical consequence of a refusal or of a failure in this subordina~ tion of method is the equivalent methodological reduction of the ev~nt~ of the Church's history to merely empirical significance, and the: dissolu-tion of ~the sacramental value of these events. ,At such a point, any. re, sistance to this dissolution ~must then be accounted unscientific, irrational, unrealistic, benighted. Such resistance fails to justify itself before the court of scientific reason whose writ runs as ,.far as the mind may range. In such a context, when the Church, as the object of this kind of "scien-tific" scrutiny, claims, e.g., for its traditional sexual morality a trans-empirical and sacramental value, it is challenged to make manifest the .worthiness of its doctrine for the salvific role asserted for it~and,.of course, cannot do so. Its claim is then held .to be out of court, and. if it.is a~cepted at all, this is deemed a matter of private idiosyncracy, an affair de gustibus, not "really" true . ° In the criticism ,of Humanae l/itae presented in .:Catholic Schools in a Declining Church there is more thana little of this rationalist obscurantism. ~Instead of attempting to construct the sociological o theology which ,only Catholic.-sociologists 'are equipped to' offers,, this book provides merely a secular object of sociological investigation, a pseudo-church, one with which a secular methodology,~:may be entirely comfortable~ ~i~ This pseudo-church is' fashioned from., atoms oLempirical information gathered according to the canons of .that secular methodology. The struc-ture w~hich emerges from these atrms in their collectivity is entirely em-pirical. The resulting picture of the "church" is found, to no one's amaze-ment, to Square rather badly with the Church of Catholic tradition ~enunci-ated,, for example, in Lumen Gentium or Gaudium et Spes, and particularly with thb tradition repeated affew years later in Humanae Vitae. Among the particularly prominent discrepancies between the official Church of these documents~.and the empirical "c~hurch;' described by Greeley's team is the disrrgard on the part of.the latter of the sexual, moral, ity .~which was recently reatiirmed by Rome,. to which the Catholic hierarchy has subscribed. This, in its turn, must lead to; a dilution of that respect in which the teaching authority of the Church must'be held. ~ Greeley considers this .situation to be the result of a massive failure in communication in the. institutional Church. By reason of this, a badly informed pope came to insist, disastrously, upon a morality long since abandoned by his subjects. ~ . ~ Doubtless experts in the~fieid of his methodology will find reason to contest the adequacy of Greeiey's sampling~and analytical techniques. Per-haps they will reject the evidence of "decline" which this book infers. Review tor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 Whether or not such deficiencies exist is not finally very important. No doubt a further examination of the data will contribute to the clarification of the structure revealed by the study and perhaps even require a recasting of previous inferences, thereby contributing to the accuracy of Greeley's findings. But no refinement of this methodology can bring it to bear upon more than an empirical entity. And when that entity is identified with the visible Church, a fundamental mistake has been made. If this mistake is insisted upon, it must lead to a rejection of the Catholic doctrine that the Church is a sacramental sign, having a significance which entirely transcends the empirical. This sign-visibility is the visibility of worship; ultimately, it is Eucharistic, the concrete historical actuality of the Eucharistic community, the visible structure of which is constituted by the sacraments of its worship. This c~mmunity, the Church, can no more be identified with the "church"~ discovered in Greeley's research than can th6 Eucharistic Lord be identified with the merely surface phenomena of the Eucharistic celebration. Such a refusal of this Catholic dbctrine of Church need be neither ex-plicit nor deliberate. In fact, this kind of rejection most frequently occurs inadvertently, when, for instance, a powerful new intellectual tool permits the achievement of results so impressive that its adepts forget that the faith transcends it, that the faith cannot be contained within it or be controlled by it. In the controversy which is bound to follow, a similar forgetfulness just as frequently afflicts their theological opponents. These, in rejecting the dominion of the new learning, tend also to ignore the possibility of its con-version, and so they, in their turn, underwrite the isolation of the Church from history. For a clear example of this, one need only recall the dispute between, the "old" theology and the "new" logic in the early Middle Ages. Such mistakes find their corrective in the conversion of the new device to the perennial task of theology, a process which, like all conversions, is always incomplete. While the sociological construct which emerges in Catholic Schools in a Declining Church' cannot be identified with the Church, it remains ~true that the people who responded to the questions of the study did so in the con-text of their actual involvement with Catholicism. If their response is to be given the kind of theological value and weight that Greeley suggests, it mtist be because the attitudes and opinions which~this survey reveals are under-stood as entering into the sign-which-is-the-Church, and therefore as an element of the visibility of the Eucharistic community and of its worship. In this c~ntext of Eucharistic worship, the reaction which Catholic Schools in a Declining Church has registered, whether .in regard to the value of°Catholic schools, to the changes introduced by Vatican II, or to Humanae Vitae, cannot be identified simply as the kind of Church consensus that Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection constitutes the sensus fidelium, the living faith of the People of God. This is because the sacramental Church is a s.ign which is contradicted. Our living of the faith is not a clear and obvious thing, but rather is rendered obscure and enigmatic by the fallenness of humanity and of the world. We daily refuse the truth of the "good" creation; and that refusal continually finds its historical expression in the community of the Church in a failure of Worship. The Church's worship has its prior antecedent structure in the sacra7 ments. These are the form of authentic human existence in fallen history, and in their unity they constitute the sole criteria of visible membership in the Church. Their truth is that of mystery, i.e., it can be appropriated only through worship. ~But by this worship it is appropriated. And over the centuries, this appropriation emerges historically in the doctrinal, moral and liturgical tradition of the Church. This appropriation is also a continual conversion and enfranchisement of the People of God. That it does not fail is due to no excellence of the Church's members, but only to the promise and presence of Christ among them, by which they continue to be the Body of Christ, one flesh with their risen Lord~ That this union does not fail is therefore a matter of faith: neither its existence, its quality, or its extension can be verified empirically. Its worship is that of a community of sinners. Essential to it is that sacra-ment of repentance and reconciliation by which sin, as a personal concrete failure of worship, is acknowledged in an~act of worship by which 'personal solidarity with the Eucharistic community is given again. ~ The fortunes of this sacrament of reconciliation over the nearly two millennia of its history record the enormous resistance offered the Christian notion of personal moral responsibility. The primitive identification of "sin" and "crime" required centuries to reform.~The subsequent' privatizing of confession and penance began so to obscure the public aspect of sin as to reduce public morality once more to a mere obedience to law. In some Catholic circles, this tendency is now .so far advanced as to include the despotic proposition that "the law to be obeyed" is simply the public law of the civil society. In this view, the Church has nothing to say in re morali beyond a loving endorsement of ~the reigning pluralistic consensus. ~ Yet it is only through an existential familarity with the antecedent, mean-ing of-the holy that sin is recognized and acknowledged to be a violation of the human, of the sacramental existence which is structured by the Church's worship. This holiness, this human integrity is sustained and measured by this worship, and 'not otherwise. Only here does a valid consensus emerge as to the meaning of good and evil. This consensus, this discovery, keeps pace with the slow, reluctant response of the People of God, of the Church in its members, to its Lord and his Gift--which is to live in Christ, in light rather than in an undemanding darkness, in freedom rather than in a comfortable 1112 / R'eview ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 conformity, in history rather than without. significance. And finally, it is to live responsibly, rather than to abdicate that honor and burden in favor of a false transcendence which knows no .crucifixion and offers rio redemption. The pace of this pilgrimage is impeded by our straggling, by our desertion, our defection toward one or other mirage.~ This history of Exodus is our history--together with its' pain. All of us who think ourselves Catholic must hope to be within that his-tory, undergoing that reformation and salvation. But we cannot guarantee ourselves to be so, whether as individualS'or as representatives of the whole. We cannot suppose our personal assessm6nt of moral right and wrong to be definitive and assured. Particularly is this the case when.the mass of Catholic Christians have not yet come to terms with the Christian meaning of free-dom; when they tend still to'suppose that whatever is not forbidden by Church law or tradition is thereby moral, or at least morally indifferent. It is only when adult Catholics recognize, their responsibility for the realization into history of the truth of Christ and consequently acknowledge in prayer the possibility of their own wilfull violation of their own human symbolism, their own sacramental and historical reality, their~own inescapably sexual existence--it is only in this circumstance that they can form a Eucharistic_ consensus on this now excruciating question of' the consistency of the sacra-mental symbolism of marriage with that symbolism which is inseparable from artificial contraception, and upon a complexus of other questions of only lesser urgency which bear upon the sacramental truth~of human sex-uality. This condition is not now met. Only when it is met can the Church speak confidently 'upon these newly disputed points. The obstacle to such utterance .now is not that the twenty years since the discovery of "the pill'-', is insufficient for mature judgment, but that even now the basis for making the judgment is not clear--as Catholic Schools in a Declining Church makes very evident~ The Second Vatican Council indeed introduced changes in the Church. But the greatest of these is the most ignored: the quiet dropping of .the obediential "morality which was typical of Catholic moralists before the Council--and which, unfortunately, remains typical~ for many of them to this day~ Conformi~, rather than responsible personal participation in the worship of the Church, is still proposed as the basis for moral decision. The book under consideration~only joins a chorus long since formed. But it is still from the authentic experience of free Eucharistic worship and its achievement of ~free historical.truth that the Church must teach; the truth of Christ is available, on no other basis. This is the only information system there is. It falters always~ but it does not fail. ~ The Small Group in Religious Life William Barber, Ph.D. Dr. Barber is Professor of. Psychology at Eastern. Washington State College in Cheney, WA 99004. He also is a consulting psychologist with ot~ces in Spokane. Earlier drafts of this article were helpfully reviewed by Paul Fitter, S.J.~ Ellen Monsees, R.S.C.J., Henri Nouwen and Leo Rock, S.J. Introduction This paper analyzes religious community groups from a behavioral science perspective. "Commu.nity" here refers to a face-to-face living group, usually comprised of fewer than a dozen persons, whose members may ormay not include co-workers in one,s ministry: The attempt is to show how a group's psychological developmeiat, as a community relates to and interacts with the work of members in their apostolic ministries. There exists a ~vell-established theological basis for "church as com-munity,".~ much of which has. developed since Vatican 11,1 and a detailed historical and sociologi.cal rationale calling for intensive, committed com-munity group relationships has been presented recently by Fitz and Cada.z Leaders of. religious communities know about and agree attitudinally with the need for establishing strong and deep group relationships. . o It is the experience of the writer in providing consultation to leaders of religious orders and to particular groups of religious, that what is not known is how to integrate into religious life the concepts and skills needed to est~ib-lish strong, dynamic groups of religious. It is hoped that What follows~offers some goidelines, drawn from the be-havioral sciences, for bridging the gap between the theoretical and "the practical aspects of group development in religious life. 1Dulles, A., Models oi the Church (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1974). -"Fitz, R. L., & Cada, L. J., "The Recovery of Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELI~OUS, 34, September, 1975. 813 814 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 The approach will be to describe ways in which groups differ from col-lections of individual persons, to distinguish religious communities from other kinds of groups, and to show how a religious community becomes an organi-zation for meeting the personal needs and at the same time the apostolic purposes of its members. A psychological rationale for community life is offered along with concrete suggestions for effective religious community life. Assumptions A group becomes more than a collection of individuals when all mem-bers need one another to accomplish a common task or goal. A dozen persons sunbathing near each other on a sunny beach are not a group in this sense; but if together they respond to a cry for help from a sinking swimmer they become a group as they work together on their shared.task of rescue. Once their task is completed, the group ceases to exist as a group, unless the members should decide to form an association to provide beach safety, in which case they would continue to be a group. Thus, being together doesn't define a group, even though all members have the same objective (in° this example to acquire suntans). It is when members need each other for some collective purpose; it is when they become interdependent, that they become a group? A community, such as a religious community is a special kind of: group in that it attempts to provide for more than support for the accomplishment of external tasks. A community~ is a group which attempts to meet the human and personal needs of its members as well: physical needs for food and shelter, social needs for recognition and friendship, and what Maslow calls the "ego needs''~ for meaning, and self-actualization as persons? Thus, a collectivity of individuals may become a group: a group may become a community for meeting physical, social and ego needs of members. At this highest level of motivation--the ego needs for actualization and fulfillment~it seems a religious community as a group attempts to meet another nee.d, the idiosyncratic need to develop its own "identity." And a re-ligious community's identity must be considered in relation to its ministry. Identity and ministry are like horizontal and vertical aspects of a group's religious life. The Vertical Dimension As a person needs to grow in self-knowledge, so a group becoming a community is drawn towards a deeper, more complete sense of identity. This is like a "vertical" dimension of growth--reaching down inside to ex-plore, to observe and to reflect upon the sense of '"~who we .are," and then aBass, B. M., & Nord, W., Leadership, Psychology and Organizational Behavior (New York: Harper & Row, 1960), p. 39. ¯ ~Maslow, A. H., Motivation and Personality (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1954). The, Small Group in Religious LiIe / 815 to come back up to the surface to test and to listen to what is being said in response. What do we mean by the discovery of identity? We mean finding out., real desires and characteristics . . . and being able to live in a way that expresses them. You learn to be authentic, to be honest in the sense of allowing your behavior and your speech to be the true and spontaneous expression of your inner feelings.~ Community identity then becomes established through sharing informa-tio~ n" in response to the question 'Who are we'?" More specifically this means generating information from the senses, the emotions, the intellect, and from the spirit for those who believe in a faith dimension to life. Transactions that provide such information for a community have to do with interper-sonal exchange: Who are we for each other? What do we want from each other? What will we offer to each other? These questions are continually asked and responded to, as persons tyy to moye from being a "group" to becoming a "community." As these questions are asked and responded to, "data"--i.e., information about thoughts, feelings, wishes are made avail-able for sharing, and thereby become integrated into the processes of decision and choice. Research indicates that more data from members produce higher quality decisions and greater member commitment to carrying them out.~ The Horizontal Dimension Identity needs to be expressed in life outside the community group; it needs to be expressed in apostolic ministry. This is like a horizontal dimen-sion of growth reaching out, listening openly and reflectively and respond-ing to what one is called upon to do and be with others. In the words of Maslow: Part of le~arning who you are, part of being able to hear your inner voices, is discovering what it is you want to do with your life. Finding one's identity is almost synonymous with finding one's career, revealing the altar on which one will sacrifice oneself,r As there are points of diminishing return in gains from individual per-sonal growth experiences s.uch as psychotherapy or encounter groups, so too are there limits to the gains to be expected from a religious community's developmental experiences--those aimed at developing a group's identity dimension. Community relationships and activities have as their raison d'6tre the support of tasks that further the work of apostolic ministry. It is analogous " to a couple's love for on'e another, in that their relationship, their "com- ¯ ~Maslow, A. H., The Farther Reaches o] Human Nature (New York: Viking Press, 1971), p. 183. GKelIy, H. H., & Thibault, J. W., ',Group Problem Solving," in Lindzey, G. & Aron-son, E. (eds.), Handbook o] Social Psychology (Cambridge, MA: Addison-Wesley, 1969), pp. 61-88. rThe Farther Reaches, p. 185. 816 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 munity" in a sense, requires expression in accomplishing goals-~having and raising children, for example--in addition to developing the affective rela-tionship that draws and keeps them together. Such a relationship needs manifest expression in order to continue to grow. This does not mean each aspect of community life requires direct con-nection to members' ministries. On the contrary, support is often drawn from interludes from "tasks": activities of recreation, distraction and apparent irrele(,ance. It is important to remember the purpose for which the support is given: that is, the rationale and the dyna.mic force for religious community comes from the shared commitment of members to thee values and goals underlying their collective ministries. As such, community identity is incom-plete without outward expression; small group religious life is incomplete without being related to apostolic ministry for purpose and direction. Similarly, ministry needs cbmmunity. Ministry needs community: (1) to provi~le a support system for sharing, helping, caring; i.e., for providing "maintenance" for the work of ministry, and (2) to provide for the personal development of members for their own sake, apart ~'rom apostolic work roles. "For their own sake" must not be taken lightly. The intrinsic dignity and value of each person's humanity calls for emotional connection to sig-nificant others. This need, this expectation, can be responded to by persons who commit themselves to one another in community life In summary, it seems that religious community groups work on two "agendas"---one vertical, the 6ther horizontal--and these become interde-pendent. Work on the vertical (e.g., listening, sharing; and more systematic-ally at times, team building or role clarification interventions)~ allows the group and each member more to offer on the horizofftal, in ministries. ' Work on the horizontal, the ministries, enables the con~munity to insert it-self into the world. It brings the world through members' experience into the community in order (l) to infuse ndw life, (2) to offer new direction, and (3) to provide standards for evaluating effectiveness of effort. The result is a dynamic system in which energy and creative r~sources increase. The sy~stem is dynamic in that it generates energy, and it is self-renewing because of the interdependent, reciprocal', exchanging relationship between vertical "and horizontal dimensions. The Goal of Community: Synergy One cannot explore for very long questions Such as we have asked about the dynamics of community life and ministry without confronting the larger question: What should community experience be like? What is it we are searching for by our attempt to integrate identity needs with apostolic min-istry? Maslow was a student of the anthropologist Ruth Benedict and he draws upon her concept of synergy to describe activities within a group w,hich benefit both individuals and the group as a whole. Quoting Benedict, Maslow writes: The Small Group in Religious Lile / 817 I shall speak,.of cultures with low synergy where the social structure pro- ¯ vides for acts which are mutually opposed and counteractive, and cultures with high synergy where it provides for acts which are mutually reinforcing, ¯ . . I spoke o] societies with high social' synergy where their institution insures mutual advantage ]rom their understandings, and societies with" low social synergy where tile advantage o] one individual becomes a victory over an-other, and the majority who are not victorious must shi]t as tliey call. (Italics by Maslow).8 Note the images that portray sources of energy and strength in Bene-dict's synergistic group and that we strive for in the small community group: " . . . acts which are mutually reinforcing . " " . . . mutual .advantage frrm their understandings"; opposing activities whereby "the advantage of one individual becomes a victory over another. " (italics mine). The goal of small group religious community life from a psychological viewpoint is to tap and direct this energy to provide driving force toward purposeful objectives. And the content of Benedict's message i~ the syner-gistic communities offer understanding, support °and action and oppose win/ lose relationships among members. Criteria for Synergistic Community ~ One way to test the thesis offered: here is to observe and reflect" upon experience with alternate life styles among priests and religious. Certainly no single organizational structure' promises to bypass the struggles required to enable a synei~gistic community to grow. Comprehensive discussion is beyond the scope of this paper, but we wish to poi~nt to certain mechanisms that have been found helpful by some rdligious communities in developing open, prbblem-solving climates. Most of the traits mentioned require organi-zational consultation and experience-based learning methods to become operational.9 The starting point is the vertical dimension--to expand the experience of c~mmunity identity. Desirable characteristics and mechanisms have to do with group size, group norms, communication skills, information about members' ministries, shared prayer' and sacraments, and explicit contracts regarding time, tasks, territory'and role of members. A' small group of from four to twelve members enables differences in re-sources to be present and the opportunity for each person to become well known to the others¯ Norms--implicit rules governing behavior--must be developed to support the expression'of affection a~d warmth, confronta, lion and conflict, and to support bringing-in input and help for the group. Basic communication skills in paraphrasing, describing behavior, describing Sop, cit., p. 202. 'aBarber, W. H., & Nord, W., Healer RoleJ o[ Consultants and Need Orientations o] Clients (Spokane: Eastern Washington State College,~mimeo, 1975). Barber, W. H., and Lurie, H. J., "Designing an Experience Based Continuing Education Program," American .tournal o[ Psychiatry, 130, 10, 1973. 818 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 feelings and giving and receiving personal feedback, facilitate interpersonal communication. Some initial didactic experience is useful, and the develop-ment of norms to support the use of communication skills in day-to-day practice is crucial. Since feelings about s'elf are strongly influenced by feelings about work, members who strive for interdependence need to have direct, first-hand in-formation about each other's apostolates. The group has the benefit of dif-ferent experiences and resources when it is comprised of members from different ministries. As there should be shared expression at an interpersonal level of posi-tive feelings and confrontation, as noted above, so there should be shared expression at a spiritual level through prayer, liturgical celebration.and other faith experiences. This serves the purpose of enabling persons who have a commitment to each other to share this special part of their lives. Keeping spiritual sharing separate from other community activities and allowing for differences in member participation is also important because these are valuable means of legitimizing the individuality of personal experience and expression. To be clear about and in control of boundaries the points of separa-tion- for the community in regard to time--when things happen; tasks-- what occurs; territo.ry--appropriate physical spaces for the separate and shared parts of members' lives; and role,delineation of special roles within the group (e.g., management, coordination, various maintenance roles). Summary: Culture and Open System Two ideas may help to summarize the characteristics of effective com-munity: they are "culture" and "open system." It is the hope of those estab-lishing a small group community to enable a particular culture to emerge, one that is unique and meets special needs for that group. A culture is characterized by its social organization--especially norms, roles and ex-pectations for member behavior--and by its "expressions," i.e., what is shared with the outside world by the group. We have said here that the culture of the religious community needs to develop through Particular norms, patterns and values regarding communication and the organization of tasks and roles and religious expression. An open system like a biological organism, is one characterized by in-take, transformation and export processes.1° Transactions occur with the environment: intake of new members, materials and information; and export of the "products" of members' work, and members who leave the system. It is through evaluating differences between intake and export that the quality of the group's efforts, its internal processes can be judged. To be. effective as an open system, a religious community requires management of its intake, export and internal transformation processes, in the latter case 10Rice, A. K., Learning ]or Leadership (London: Tavistock Publications LTD., 1971). The Small Group in Religious Li]e / 819 procedures for meeting individual and group needs for' control of boundaries of time, task, territory and role. Growth of the v~rtical dimension occurs as the culture develops; this growth can be measured by the quality of interaction among members. Open relationships occur as members share ideas, feelings and perceptions that have to do-with their purposes in being together. Trust develops enabling openness and personal sharing to occur appropriately (in contrast with some coercive group norms toward "confiding" or "revealing"). Norms support-ing individual differences in sharing grow and become explicit. When both openness and personal sharing occur and yet individual differences are en-couraged, a climate of genuine intimacy develops. Conclusions Openness, trust and intimacy are important because as human beings we are drawn toward becoming "the persons who we are" and toward being "in relationship.''~ But as a priest or religious one is committed to apostolic ministry--horizontal dimension. Community exists "in the service of min-istry"-~ and this is primary. But since vertical and horizontal dimensions are interdependent, the work of ministry will suffer unless it is anchored in re-ligious community experience that meets social and psychological needs of member~ along with spiritual and apoStolic objectives. One implication is that persons living in religious community may use-fully explore ways in which they are and are not, like the sunbathers men-tioned above, (1) a number of separate individuals in physical proximity to one another, (2) a group brought together because of an immediate, com-mon task, or (3) a special kind of institution, formed to support the work of members' apostolates and simultaneously to facilitate members' personal development. This paper has tried to distinguish among such groups in order to enable members to better cfioose the type of community to which they wish to be committed. The small group as religious community is a collectivity of persons unified by the overarching mission of faith--to facilitate the experience of Christ among persons. This paper attempts to describe how synergy develops and is maintained in the service of ministry thi'ough integrating, in a dynamic way, community needs and apostolic objectives of inembers.1~ XlBuber, M., I and Thou (New York: Scribners, 1970). tZThe ideas in the paper were presented at an assembly of provincial leaders of the Society of the Sacred Heart from North America, Australia, and New Zealand in September, 1975. Provincial teams of three to five persons worked for ten days at various experiential activities aimed at internalizing, in their own behavior, the char-acteristics which are noted in this paper. Their purposes were to strengthen their team relationships, to increase their own experience of Community and to apply the ideas in this paper to 'their concrete work tasks and roles. The women reported, and assembly observers documented~ significant movement toward integrating the concepts with be-havior and action. A paper summarizing behavioral science aspects of the assembly and follow-up data may be requested from the author. The Contemplative Attitude in Spiritual Direction William A. Barry, S.J. Father Barry, Director of the Center for Religious DevelopmeJat, has written on the subject of spiritual direction for our pages before. His last article for RfR was pub-lished in March, .1973. He continues to reside at 42 Kirkland St.; Cambri~lge, MA 02138. In a number of articles both William J. Connolly, S.J. and I have referred to contemplation and the contemplativ~ attitude as the kind of prayerful attitude which spiritual directors try to encourage in those who seek spiritual direction.1 We have tried to describe what we mean by these words. Suffice it here to say that we use the word contemplation in itsoetymological sense; we mean to refer to the act of looking at or listening to something. Webster's first definition of "contemplate" says some of what we mean: "to view or consider with continued attention." In our earlier articles, I believe, we have not been sufficiently precise in our use of the word co.ntemplation and contemplative attitude. We have spoken of contemplating .the Lord in Scripture and in nature and have not sufficiently distinguished between the contemplation of Scripture and nature 1Barry, W. A., "The Experience of the First and Second Weeks of the Spiritual Exer-cises," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 32, No. 1 (1973), pp. 102-109. Bai'r~;, W. A., "The Necessity of Contemplative Prayer for the Teaching and Stu~ly of Theology in a Ministerial School," Church Society ]or College Work, Vol. XXXIII, No. I (1975), pp. 6-10. Connolly, W. J., "Contemplation and Social Consciousness in the Context of the Directed° Retreat: An Experiential Approach." An address at the 8th National Workshop on the Spiritual Exercises, Cincinnati, August 25-28, 1974, and published by The Program to Adapt the Spiritual Exercises, Jersey° City, New Jersey 07302. Connolly,.W.J., "Contemporary Spiritual Direction: Scope and Principles, An Intro-ductory Essay." Studies in the Spirituality o] Jesuits, VII, (1975), pp. 95-124. 820 The Contemplative Attitude in Direction / 8:21 and the contemplation of the Lord. Perhaps we have also not sufficiently attended to the nuance that one can have a. contemplative attitude and yet noi be contemplating the LordsIt is the purpose of these notes' to attempt some clarification of the meaning of and use of contemplation in spiritual direction. The Contemplative Attitude and Its Relation to "Transcendence" Have you ever been so absorbed in watching a game or reading a book or listening to music that you have been surprised at the end of the passage of time, by how cold or hot you are, by the anger of a friend (who has been asking 'you something for ten minutes)? Then you know the power of paying attention to something, and you have a personal example of the contemplative attitude. The most telling examples come from reports of how parents 'have been so concentrated on their children's safety in a fire or accident that they have only at the end felt the pain of their own wounds. Thus, one effect of the contemplation of something outside ourselves is that it can make us forget ourselves and our other suroundings. Contempla-tion leads to, or rather, is an experience of transcendence, of self-forgetful-ness of everyone and everything else except the contemplated object. '. Conversely, we find that self-absorption makes the contemplation of any-thing or an~yone else very difficult, if not impossible. Thus,. a starving man may well be unable to enjoy a sunset. One of the key elements to ministry in a hospital is the atte~apt to help the sick to become interested in others around them and in the outside world, that is, to help them todo something that will enable them to forget their own pain and suffering or to put it in another perspective. , . : Another aspect of the examples we began with should' catch our atten-tion, namely that the responses of absorption, joy, pain,: sympathy, love, gratitude which are associated with contemplation are not willed acts or willed emotions~ They are elicited from us by what we see and hear and comprehend.,~ (Of course; these responses~, do not arise qrom a blank tablet, but are conttitioned by our own past experiences~) Herewe have an impor-tant element to consider in all spiritual direction. Responses that are elicited by contemplation are not experienced in the first instance as willed acts. The clearest example, perhaps, is the response of love when one looks at the beloved; it seems to be a gift, something that arises because of the other, not because one has decided to love or fall in love. What one can do is to look it and to try to pay attention to the other, but ore cannot will one's response. At most one can hope that one will respond a certain way, This last point leads us to a further consideration. The person who con-templates in the way we are describing has to have an attitude of reverence and wonder before the other, especially if what he/she ~vants to see or hear is within the power of the other to grant 9r~withhold. In this case all one can do is to ask the other to reveal himself or herself and wait for it to Review 1or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 happen. This insight is behind the prayer for what one desires which Ignatius of Loyola puts at the begifining of every one of the exercises of the Spiritual Exercises. For example, in the Exercises I pray that the Lord will reveal to me my sinfulness, that I may have shame and confusion, that the Lord make himself known to me in order that I may love him and follow him. Here we see even more clearly the relation between contemplation and transcendence. When we are dealing with another person, we are not in the same position as we are when we are dealing with an object. Saint Exuprry's Little Prince on his small asteroid only needs to move his chair a bit in order to see another sunset, but he is powerless to see the reality and unique-ness of his flower until she chooses to reveal herself to him.2 But when the free other chooses to reveal him or herself, then the genie is out of the bot-tle, as T. S. Eliot said,~ and the mystery of the other is upon us. Thus we have a further observation on the relation of contemplation to transcendence. We try to control our perceptions. We are threatened by new-hess and strangeness, msa result we often see only what we "want" to see or what our perceptual and cognitive structures let us see. To try to contemplate means to try to let the other be himself or herself or itself, to try to be open to surprise and newness. To begin this process means to open oneself to mystery, ultimately to the Lordship of the Other. It is to let oneself be controlled by the other; paradoxically, one finds oneself free. The upshot most often is that one becomes less incapacitated by fear from accepting the mystery of life/ The experience of transcendence is, I believe, one of a continuum from total self-absorption to total absorption in the other--with the two ends of the continuum being ideal .states not found in nature. In any human experi-ence there is bound to be an.admiXture of both self-consciousness and. aware-ness of the outside world. The boundaries of the continuum might well be circumscribed by referring to the narcissistic person on the one hand and the enraptured mystic on the other. It might also be a help to those who are praying to realize that the contemplation of the Lord is no different from the contemplation of any other person in this regard, namely that one can be in the intimate presenc~e of a very dear friend'and still be'or become aware of the ache in one's feet, of wondering whether one put out the lights in the car, of the work still to be done for school tomorrow, and so forth. ZAntoin"e de Saint-Exuprry, Le Petit Prince, New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1943. " :~"But let me tell y~u, that to approach the stranger ls to invite the unexpected, release a new force, Or let the genie out of the bottle. It is to start a train of events Beyond your control ." T. S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party 4See W. J. Connolly, "Freedom and Prayer in Directed Retreats," REVIEW ]FOR REr LIGIOtJS, Vol. 32, No. 6, (1973), pp. 1358-1364. The Contemplative Attitude in Direction "/ 823 "Distractions," in other words, are a part of even the most intimate rela-tionships and should be expected in prayer too. Finally, in an intimate conversation reflection on what is happening or. on how well one is doing, especially with the idea of writing about it in one's journal or using it as an example for an article like this, can disturb the communication and be an instance of self-absorption. It happens, but it is better not to program it this way. Thus, the wisdom of. the tradition in spiritual direction of advising the person praying to do the reflecting after the period of prayer is over. Contemplation ~f the Lord in Nature and in Scripture Perhaps now we can clarify what we mean by contemplation of the Lord in nature and in Scripture. The Lord is invisible, and so hard to look at; he also seems pretty silent, and so hard to listen to~ Often enough, therefore, we try too hard to pray, :try too hard to listen and look. Too often prayer is seen as self-absorbing; our natural reaction when someone says, "Let us pray," is to bow our heads, close our eyes, and get serious--all of which is proper in its place. But we rarely get the impression that prayer can be an enjoyable experience, :that it can be a conversation, a dialogue, a relation- .ship. The spiritual director is confronted with the problem of,helping people to the enjoyment of God when much Of their past experience of prayer is one of labor, seriousness, brooding, and self-absorption. Many of us .who do spiritual direction have hit upon the idea of helping people to forget themselves for a while. We ask them what they like todo, what he!ps them just to forget their problems (besides going to sleep), and we try to help them to see that 0ihey already do contemplate in the way de- Scribed in the first note. We suggest that they spend a certain amount of time-~each.day, if possible-~-, doing whateVer it is that they like doing that is contemplative, and that they :consider this time as time with the Lord (i.e: prayer) in much the same way that they might want to share the same ex-perience with a close friend. We also suggest that they ask the Lord to make his presence known, to reveal himself. Then they look at and/or listen to whatever it is 'they enj'oy. After e~ch period of doing this we ask them to reflect on the experience: What happened?'What did they experience? Did the Lord make himself known? It is surprising what .happens wl~en people begin to do something like this. They often have objections at first: they.f.eel it cannot be prayer. More-over, being so conditioned to think that brooding and insights and resolu-tions are what prayer is all about they often need time and patience to get the hang of it and to find out that the director really means what he says. But then they begin to find such "prayer" times enjoyable and relaxing; they find themselves surprised by feelings of joy and gratitude and a real sense that Someone is present who loves and cares for them. They find that th~ey can 824 / Review ]dr Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 admit things to themselves that they were always afraid or ashamed to look at--and they feel better for it; they feel freed, healed. Agnes Sanford in her book The Healing Gilts ol the Spirit gives very similar advice. To people whosay "I can't find God," she suggests doing some simple things, especially things they like to do, that will put them in the way of God, as she says,0so "that he can find you.''~ That is the point, of course; as we saw in the first.section, ~the only thing we can do when we want to get 'to know another person is to put ourselves near and askthe person to reveal himself or herself. These reflections bring us to the question: Are there any privileged places or privileged events where we can go to put ourselves in the Lord's way? The traditional answer has been that there are, and. that these places and events include the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, the church teaching, the Scriptures, and the works of the Lord, especially nature, I will say something later about additions to this list, but now I would like to take up nature and' the Scriptures, Traditionally people have found peace and refreshment in the beauties of nature: The fact that most retreat houses, houses of prayer and monas-teries have been located in or near scenes of natural beauty testify to the belief that God is found more easily in nature and in solitude than, say, in cities. Traditionally, too, we have spoken of God revealing himself in the things he has made, "in plants and animals and in men, the wonders of Your hand," as the canon written ~by John L'Heureux puts it,~ I do not want to counter this tradition although I do believe that the Lord can be as present in the city; rather, I want to examine how the Lord is met and how we can help people to meet him in natt~re. First of all directors should suggest~ looking ~nd listening, not give ideas about God's continual creation, his indwelling, and so forth. We have to remember that most of us are conditioned by catechism, philosophy and the-ology classes to have beautiful thoughts about how. God is in all things, but that few of us have ever looked long.enough at a flower to let God reveal himself as the maker of that flower for me. Before a tree can become a symbol of God, it must first be seen and touched and smelled as a tree. The first suggestion, then is that people look at and listen to what.is around them. The second suggestion is that looking at natural beauty can in itself be a way of relat!ng to the Lord without any words~being said. Just as I relate to an artist by taking interest in what he has made, by taking time to look at it or listen to it, so too I can relate to God if I take time to contemplate what he has made. Creators lik~ to have people show interest in what they have done. All the better if I like" what I ~see and smile or sigh or express ~Sanford, Agnes~ The Healing Gilts 0! the Spirit (New York: Lippincott, 1966), esp. pp. 25-32. ~In Hoey, R. F. (ed.), The Experimental Liturgy Book (N,Y.: Herder and Herder, 1969), p. 97. ' The Contemplative Attitude in Direction delight in the presence of the artist. Such responses are elicited by what I contemplate, not willed by me, and they are communications to'the artist; in the case of God they are then called prayers of praise. Tfiey do not have to be couched in "prayer language." Indeed, the prayer is often made before a word is formed. The spiritual director might then be able to point out that the responses of the directee are similar to the responses that the poet who wrote Psalm 104 must have had and then tried to express in poetry. Not everyone is a poet, but almost everyone can be thrilled by a dazzling sunset or sunrise, the sun's light on fall leaves, and so forth, and feel a. deep sense of wonder. , Thus far we have been stressing the need to look and listen, the con-templative attitude. As I contemplate, I can also have desires, one of which is that the Lord reveal himself to me while I am looking at his works. If I begin my period of contemplation with a prayer that this desire be grant.ed, then.it is liable to happgn. I do not want to rule out high mystical experi-ences--~ because they do happen and more frequently than we tend to think --but here I would rather concentrate on the more ordinary ways the Lord reveals himself in,answer to this prayer. One can be walking along the beach at night and see a touch of silver from the moon on the crest of a wave and besides delighting in it suddenly feel at peace and in someone's presence who .himself delights in such things. Unaccountably one may feel that one is still loved, even though one does drink o'r eat too much or get angry with one's community members too often or even though one has just lost one's best friend or has just been turned down for graduate school or was not elected superior or whatever, and one may feel free to face ~oneself more honestly and with less self-pity. Or a person may sense her insignificance under the stars, and yet feel her own importance in the ~whole scheme of things, Or another may Sense a call deep inside himself to change his life style. In all these instances the person may be hearing or sensing the voice of the Lord revealing himself. When these kinds of experiences are real and exciting.and challenging as well as com-forting, then the Lord has begun to take on a new reality for the person. Perhaps now he or~.she can also pay attention to him and not just to his creatures. And here may lie the dividing line between contemplating the Lord and contemplating his works. The work of the spiritual director now becomes one of helping the per-son praying to discern, that is, to figure out what is going on, what is God's voice, what not. The discernment of spirits, begins when there are inner movements and the question is: Is the Lord revealing himself, and if so, what is he saying? The genie is out of the bottle, and now it is important to follow the genie's movements. We can look at the contemplation of Scripture in a similar way. Scrip-ture is not the Lord, but a privileged place to meet him. However, one must pay attention to the Scripture itself just as one has to pay attention to trees 1126 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 or sunsets or mountains. That is,"it is necessary to have a contemplative at-titude toward Scripture, to let the Scriptures be themselves and to listen to them and to ask that the Lord reveal himself while we are listening to these words. I do not intend ~here to delve into the arguments as to whether any other religious texts might be privileged places for meeting God; they could be and indeed people have met God while paying attention to St. Augustine's Confessions, to the prayer of St. Francis, to many other works of religious .literature, and even to secular literature. I am accepting as a given that Sgripture has primacy of place over all other literature as the Word of God. But we must listen to the Scriptures themselves, and not our projections onto them. One sometimes hears that modern scripture ,.scholarship with its de-mythologizing and its form criticism has been a blow to piety and has made it more difficult to use Scripture for prayer. Scripture scholars, it is some-times charged, have taken the mystery out of the infancy narratives of the gospels and other stories. We are not sure what Jesus actually said, or whether he actually did everything the gospels say he did. "How can we ever know him then?", people wonder. Those of us who take scripture studies and spiritual direction seriously have had to ponder these questions and charges as well as to take seriously our own and others' experiences in praying with the Scriptures. I think that we have not always been careful in our way of speaking, and it is my hope that this note will contribute to the clarification of our thought and ex-pression. , ,I want to focus on. the contemplation of the gospels and hope that the principles enunciated here can be analogously translated to the use of other scripture texts~ The first point is obvious: It does little good for prayer or Christian living to base both on a delusion. Hence, it is important to see the gospels for what they are. They are not biographies of J.esus, but four differ-ent expressions of the faith of the early Church and what it remembered in faith about Jesus. Each gospel has its own point of view, its own theo-logical focus, its own Sitz im Leben. Contemplation of°Mark's gospel, for example, means taking Mark's work on its own terms and trying to listen to his work of art. Secondly, it should be said that one need not be a Scripture scholar in order to be able to use the gospels for prayer. The Lord can still reveal him-self to someone who believes that angels actually did sing "Glory to God in the highest" at Bethlehem as long as one is open to having the living Lord reveal himself. But I do believe that the more one knows about the gospel, the better one can look at and listen to it and not to one's own cultural and personal projections of it. Thus, I believe that scripture study can be a help to contemplation. In other words, it helps, I think, to be able to con-template Mark's Jesus and know that it is Mark's Jesus and not necessarily The Contemplative Attitude in Direction / 827 the "real article" in all his historical reality. For one thing, one is not going to be thrown so much out of kilter by new discoveries of scripture scholars. More importantly, one is more likely to realize that the person one wants to meet' is not the Jesus of the past, but the present living Lord (who, of course,'is continuous with Jesus of Nazareth). Here we are at the heart of the matter. The purpose of contemplating the gospels .is to come to know the living Lord Jesus. Here again we can see the wisdom of Ignatius of Loyola. Before every contemplation of events from the gospels Ignatius has the retreatant pray for what he desires, namely "an intimate knowledge of our Lord, who has become man for me, that I may .love him more and follow him more closely.''~ Then I listen to the gospel text and treat it for what it is, as imaginative literature. I try to take the text ~seriously, and try to let it inspire my imagination, as it was written to do (as well. as to enkindle my faith). But my desire is not to know the scripture text better, but to know the risen Jesus better. I want him to reveal himself to me. And when he takes on reality and shape for me (not neces-sarily in a picture, by the way), then I talk to him, not to the text, and I listen to him, not the text. Those-who have not had this experience will not know what I am talking about, but hopefully they will be open enough to listen to the experience of those who have. The purpose of contemplation of Scripture is not to see Jesus. walking on water or to see him in Galilee or hear him say to Peter "Feed my lambs.~ The purpose is to hear the risen Jesus say to me: "Your sihs are~ forgiven,~you" and to know he means me; to hear him say to me." "Come,,follow~me.and be my friend" and.know that it is the Lord and that he is talking to me. Once again, discernment be-comes a necessity when I begin to feel moved by the Lord himself. I hope that by now it is clear that contemplation of nature or of Scrip~ ture is not in itself contemplation of the Lord, but that the former is a privileged way to the latter. Indeed, one can say that contemplation in the first sense is a technique or method, where contemplation in the second sense is relationship itself and no methods ~are needed. Finally as to the list of privileged places, it may be well to indicate that those mentioned earlier are still privileged places and also that different eras and different people may prefer one of the privileged places to others. It may also be that new privileged places may come into prominence. I am thinking especially of a shift from nature to man-made works of art or technique, a suggestion made by Josef Sudbrack, S.J? In our modern urban culture we may well find that human artifacts as well as human persons themselves may be more privileged than natural beauty. "l~here should be no difficulty here since the works of humans are ultimately God's handiwork. ~Spiritual Exercises (Puhl Translation), No. 104, p. 49. 8Sudbrack, Josef, Beten ist Menschlich: Aus der Er]ahrung Unseres Lebens mit Gott Sprechen (Freiburg in Breisgau: Herder, 1973). 828 / Review jor Religious, Volume 35~ 1976/6 On the Question of the Utility of Contemplation Recently in a discussion of contemplation someone mentioned that many people were advocating the 'techniques I have labelled contemplative for problem solving in management, for conflict resolution and that they worked without reference to God or the transcendent. That is, the contemplative techniques we mentioned in the,.earlier notes, were being used for secular purposes,, and people were feeling better, were more creative, more integral, and so forth. There is no question that the technique of contemplation by itself is very salutary. We need~ not bemoan that fact. But then what is the need to bring in God and prayer? ~ Here the only reply is to ask oneself to what end one uses contempla-tive techniques. If the answer is to solve problems, to feel better, to be more creative, then perhaps there is no need t~ refer to God and prayer. But for those for whom contact with the living Lord and the relationship itself with him are the goals, the question loses significance. It is like asking someone what he gets ,out of time spent with his wife that he could not get from others just as well. For those who seek the Lord, these techniques would be worthless no matter how good they. made them feel if in the process they did not find their Lord. Throughout.~these notes I have stressed that the purpose of contemplating nature, Scripture, or anything else is to meet the living Lord. When he is engaged, or rather when he engages me, there is no need of techniques or even of asking what the utility of prayer is. I want to be with him, and ttiat is enough. Without effort utility comes; one be-comes a better person and Christian. But relationship,is what is sought: In a Rut To get out of a rut a seed digs deeper. Edward A. Gloeggler P.O. Box 486 Far Rockaway, NY 11691 Individual Apostolates and Pluralism Community Identity in John T~I Ford, C.S.C. Fr. Fo~:d is Associate Professor of' Theology and Coordinator of Ministerial Studies in the School of Religious Studies at the Catholic University of America, WA 20064. Not too long ago, as our history is measured, the apostolic endeavors of American religious communities almost' invariably took a corporate or insti-tutional form. A typical example is the religious house all of whose members work in an adjacent school. Though there may be considerable variety in the occupations of individual religious (e.g~, ,~administration, teaching, coun-seling, maintenance, etc.), the work of;each is seen as contributing to the overall~ofunctioning of the institution. This corporate pattern is frequently paralleled in hospitals,~parishes, and other works religious communities un-dertake. ~ An.~important.consequence of this familiar pattern is aopervasive identi-fication, of religious community .with its institutions:' For example, this iden-tification is commohly reinforced through° a schedule that melds communal and institutional activities: if religious aren't working~in the institution, then they usua.!ly can be found together at some communal, activity in the near-bmyo rree sciydneinccale .h Tavhee c roemsuplatr iesd p wraitcht iicmapllryis ao n"mtoetnatl; .i nhsotwituetvieorn;.aalsi zwatiillo bne" nthoatet dthe later, a more apt.' comparison is with the communal life of the "family farm" or the "cottage industry" in agrarian societies. In brief, then, an "institutional apostolate" is a particular activity that members= of a religious community undertake as a corporate: effort; it is both a means of livelihood and a means of realizing the goals of the community. The melding of communal and institutional activities also affords a means ~f self-identity for religious. For example, the fact that religious (with 829 a30 / Review Jot Religioux, Volume 35, 1976/6 appropriate humility) speak of"'our school" is but one indication of the in-fluence of merged communal-institutional life on individual religious. Re-cently, when it has become necessary to close "our school," this identifica-tion has sometimes become painfully apparent. In other terms, the American tendency to identify a person with his occupation (e.g., John Smith is a carpenter, Mary Doe is a teacher) reached sort of a zenith in the case of religious; indeed, religious may be so identified with a particular institution that "outsiders" may not even know the proper name of the community whose members work there (e.g., "the sisters who teach at St. Mary's"). The liabilities of institutional apostolates are all too familiar. Perhaps the most burdensome is the tendency to subordinate the personal life of religious to the consuming demands of the institution. Illustrations are legion: fre-quently requests of a personal nature are refused if they are seen as inter-fering with the work of the institution (rather than as being alien to com-munity life). Another burden is an unrealistic subordination of communal life to institutional demands. While the acceptance of an institutional apos- ,tolate necessarily demands coordination with the life of the community, sometimes this is done by an additive process, as in the case of a com-munity that fulfilled its quota of religious exercises, one rapidly following another, after closing school for the day. Occasionally, the reverse happens: the requirements of an institutional apostolate are over-ruled by community procedures. An obvious, instance is the appointment of religious to in-stitutional positions for which their major qualification is membership in the sponsoring community. While post-conciliar renewal has (presumably?)caused the disappear-ance of the more conspicuous malpractices, still an inherent and recurring problem in institutional, apostolates is to maintain an appropriate balance between institutional work, living in community; and personal life. Any notable imbalance in these relationships is likely to occasion friction or dissatisfaction within a community. In addition to this perennial problem, there are other factors that have brought added pressures on institutional apostolates in recent years. For example, as a result of the post-conciliar decrease in the number of active religious, many communities have been. unable to staff their institutions in the same measure as formerly. Maintaining institutional 'commitments is seemingly so burdensome that some religious doubt the wisdom of institu-tional apostolates at all---even if their community would have sufficient personnel in the future. This feeling is frequently shared by those younger religious who are disenchanted with institutions in general and have entered religious life in view of a more personalized type of service. While this anti-institutionalism is~sometimes naively ex.aggerated, the fact remains that some communities have accepted members who simply do not identify with in-stitutional apostolates. Simultaneously new options have become available. For example, ~the Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 831 closing of some schools has made it possible or necessary for religious to seek positions outside the educational institutions conducted by their own community. Again, recent developments in the °Church, have led to the creation of new positions that ~previously didn't exist--directors of religious education representing a common instance. And in some cases, religious have found employment in government agencies or public interest firms. An interesting relationship has emerged in many institutions of higher education. In order to qualify for governmental assistance, a legal separation has been effected between institution and sponsoring community. While the same religious may continue their apostolate within the institution, legal separation makes it incongruous for a community to continue to consider the institution "ours." The legal status of religious working in the institu-tion is also changed; for example, many religious now have contracts with institutions that were formerly controlled by theircommunities. Apparently, institutional apostolates are being "individualized." Individual Apostolates Such recent developments have led to the emergence of'a variety of "individual apostolates.''1 Here an "individual apostolate" is :taken to mean a particular occupation that a religious undertakes as a personal effort and responsibility; it is to some degree independent of the administration of the community as such; it depends more on the particular personal qualifications of the religious, not on membership in this or that community. The degree of individuality, however, may ~vary considerably: religious who continue to'work in what were formerly their community's institutions may find that legal separation is a more or less nominal change; other religious, however, may find that they have to qualify competitively for their positions. In the latter case, when a particular religious leaves an individual apostolate, the community can not expect and is not expected to furnish a replacement (as is frequently the case in institutional apostolates). An im-portant icharacteristic of individual apostolates is that the religious com-munity as such can not determine whether its members will be able to ob-tain specific positions. Speaking.of an: apostolate as "individual" does not imply that it~is in-dependent of church or community; rather (if it is to be considered an apostolate) it must be conceived in'some way as a service that witnesses to Christ and reflects the spirit of a particularjcommunity. Moreover, there is a sense in which every apostolate is "individual,". insofar as religious are individually responsible for "personifying" the Gospel in their particular occupations. l Just as some may prefer terms such as '!mission" or "ministry" in place of "aposto-late," some may prefer terms such as "special" or "experimental" to "individual." Whatever the merits of one or other term, the concern here is with the implications of the individuality of these occupations in relation to community life. 1132 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 However, one must admits, the arbitrariness of classifying practically any occupation as an "apostolate." For example, practically any occupa-tion- from farming to fine arts, from physical education to theoretical physics--has been placed under the generic umbrella of "apostolate" in various institutions conducted by religious. Given this precedent, it seems rather arbitrary to attempt to restrict "individual apostolates" along rigid lines.: In addition, individual apostolates have long-standing precedents in most active communities: the missionary stationed alone, the student i'e-ligious living outside a community residence, the traveling .retreat-master or fund-raiser, etc. Again on the'basis of precedents, it is hard to disqualify individual apostolates on .'the ground of separation from daily community life. Or is it justifiable to consider these instances "temporary," when in fact they last for years? Or is it realistic to consider these cases .exceptions or experiments, if they involve a relatively large percentage of a com-munity? The point in raising these questions is not to object to the legitimacy of individual° apostolates in active communities? Insofar as religious rules are guidelines~ not~ absolutes,, exceptions are allowable or, at times,.nece~sary; there does not seem to be any.a priori reason why individual apostolates can not be a justifiable exception. Likewise, communities have always had to experiment in their apostolates; accordingly, individual apostolates can be seen as a new type of apostolic venture attempting to respond to con-temporary needs. Still, it is hardly adequate to treat individual apostolates merely as exceptions or experiments~ First of all, a more positive view is necessary. Individual apostolates should be seen as a development that is appropriate, perhaps necessary, if the Church is to witness to Christ in the contemporary world? Indeed', individual apostolates have already proved beneficial in some communities; for example, their existence has occasioned a much needed delineation of lines of community responsibility in relation to all apostolates. Moreover, individu~il apostolates are a means whereby com-munities, instead of being constrained to fill various slots, can utilize their personnel in more creative ways. Perhaps the most attractive aspect of indi-vidual apostolates is their challenge to religious to develop fully their talents in the service of Christ. 2The question of what constitutes app(opriat~e occupations for r.eligious parallels that of appropriate occupatior~s for priests; cf. G. Murray, "The Hyphenated Priest," R]R (~'REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS) 25 (1966), 693-702; D. Hassel, "The Priest-Expert," Chicago Studies 3 (1964), 201-225. .~Whether individual apostolates can be defended in contemplative communities is a different question; the example of Thomas Merton suggests that the possibility should not be peremptorily rejected. :*Cf. M. Rondet, ',Choices of Religious Life in a Secularized Worldi" R]R 34 (1975), 574-579. ~Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 833 On the other hand, since individual apostolates have seemingly arisen more by indirection than by intention~ it is easy to continue the pattern of temporary expedients ~ or ad hoc experiments"without facing broader issues. For example, it may be tempting to presume that individual apos-tolates are only a passing fad that will eventually go away; yet ~what if they are really introducing a new. and, distinct.form of religious,life?~ Again, it is tempting to assume that ,there is little difference.,~between religious, life for those in individual apostolates and those in institutional, apostolates; accordingly, the ~same mo~lel of religious' 'life should prevail in both. But what if there ,is-need for a new type of balance between occupation, re-ligiouslife, and personal life-style in individual apostolates? " The impl!cations of individual apostolates for religious life have been emerging, ,.like ~the apostolates themselves, only piecemeal. Though only partially apparent, these~implications need to be examined, for they poten- .tially constitute the raw material for either crisis or creativity---~r more ljk61y, a bit,of both. In other words,, a pattern is being established that affects,not only'the individual religious involved,,but the commumty as a whole~ For example, a relatively high proportion'of members in some communities is currently engaged in individual apostolates; even were it desirable to withdraw mem- .bets' from individual apostolates,.,it may no longer be feasible to do so without serious disruption (viz. problems in re-assignment, budget, resi-dence, etc.). Somewhat incongruously~ individual apostolates seem to have reached a point of institutionalization! On .the theoretical level, v~hat is at issue is a community's self-vision and self-identity. On the practical level is a complex of questions relating to the implementation of thi~ vision and the fostering of community identity Theoretical Level: A New Vision? Whatever the imbalances in institutional apostolates, they offer religious a sense of identity: "our community working in our restitution:" Quite commonly this sense of corporate identity ~s reinforced by a vision of religious life as a continual harmony of prfiyer ~nd Work, of w~or.k and prayer. Indeed, the identification of community and° institution, suggests something of an equation of,communal prayei and institutional work. If this'vision of religious~life was on~ convincingly painted in the novi-ti~ ite, such an interlocking matrix of p~ra~,er and work seems' alien 'to many religiohs today. The loss c~f this vision may'6ccasi6n feelings of ~talgia for a vision now blurred and a rhythm of. activity now. disjointed. Yet before ~Cf. R. Faricy, "Change in the Apostolic Religious Life," RIR" 34 (1975), 413-414. for a description of the "demonasticization of,apostolates." Should individual aposto-lates be seen as the cutting edge of this centrifug~al movement away from monasti-cism? o ' 834 / Review ]or Religious, l/olume~ 35, 1976/6 indulging guilt4eelings ab'rut, visions lost, it would be well to ask whether the vision is worth recapturing at all . . The vision of religious life as harmonious integration of prayer and work seems to presuppose a double model: a sociological model of an agrarian society coupled with a theological model of a divinely regulated universe.6 While an agrarian model may seem medieval, perhaps the. proximate in-fluence is the American frontier ideal of the self-sufficient family farm. Questions of historical origin aside, an agrarian model seems more influen~- tial in religious.life than is commonly acknowledged. For example, most religious communities were originally founded within agrarian societies; more importantly, an agrarian ideal of .community seems to survive in the expectations, of many religious. Indeed, one may suspect that efforts to "return to the spirit of the founder" may on occasion be similar to the flight from urban life and its mounting frustrations: a yearning for :a simpler life may be nostalgia for the benefits of an agrarian society. Or again, the once common practice of establishing houses of frrmation in rural settings ("where religious life could be lived at its ideal"), reflects something of the ideal of a self,sufficient family farm. Examples could be multiplied; varia-tions on the agrarian model could be added (e.g., religious~ community as "cottage industry" or "ethnic village," etc.). It seems worth noting the similar melding ~of work and communal life that characterizes both agrarian societies and institutional apostolates. Fitting: neatly with an agrarian model of religious :communityqs a the-ological :model Of a well regulated universe: iu~t as the universe is har-moniously ordered in every detail by an inherent set.of laws enacted by a provident God, so too is the religious community harmoniously regulated in every detail by a set of rules provided by ~a diyinely guided founder and subsequently administered, by omniscient superiors.7 While this is blatant caricature, it should be-remembered that every caricature hits uncomfortably close to life¯ ¯ Both models have become theoretically untenable. The~ agrarian model ~;Many different models have been used to explain the transition from one vision or world-view to another: for example, T. Nuij, "New Forms of Community Life," R]R 32 (1973), 59-64, coniraSts commtlnity in primitive, rural or pre-technological, and technological or industrial cultures. Among the abundant literature on this transition, cf. T. O'Meara, Holiness and Radicalism in Religious Lile (New York~ 1972); G. Moran, The. New Community (New York, 1970); L. Schaller, hnpact o[ the Future and The Change Agent (Nashville-Ne~ Yo.rk, 1969 and 1972, respectively); R. Weg-mann, "The Catholic Clergy and Change," Cross Currents i9 (1969), i78-197. The well-known works of C. Reich, The Greet,ing o! America (New York, 1971) and A. Toffler, Future Shock (New York, 1970) offer additional models and numerous illustrations. rThe influence of another model, the church as institution; is also evident; on the advantages~ and.~ limitations of 'this and. other ecclesiological models, cf. A. Dulles, Models o[ the Church (Garden City, New York, 1974). !t would be helpful to have a similar analysis of models of religious life. ~ Individual A,postolates and Pluralism / 835 is_Ansufficient in view of the complexity of urban, technological soCiety, while the theological model of-a s~,stematically directed universe is inade- - quate in the face of historical consciousness and philosophical pluralism. Accordingly, neither of these models .provides a suitable framework for a vision, of religious life. Nbnetheless, there is one reason ~for their tengcious survival:¢ they undoubtedly furnish a sense of security. It is ~spiritually reassuring to devote one's entire day in a harmonious blend of prayer and work dedicated to God: could a fervent religious want more? For some religious, then, the h'armonious vision is quite satisfying. For others, othe ~vision may~be~ feeble, but they are willing to live with;incon-sistency, because they are unable or unwilling to search for a new vision. If~a few havediscovered a new vision, many others are still searching. Aside from the fact that it is far easier to criticize a vision-become-problematic than to construct a replacement, visions are elusive and difficult to verbal-ize. More than likely, discussions within a community do notdebate visions but center on practical issues: traditional procedures versus new approaches. It is tempting, for example; to treat individual apostolates merely as another practical problem. Yet touch'more is at stake: competing visions of com-munity and apostolate that stand at the heart of personal and corporate self-identity. Not surprisingly, the .response to new visions has been varied. First of all, some would prefer to re-upholster the traditional vision by discard-ing out-dated elements" and .super-imposing sundry modern touches. Change is then cosmetic: the superficial appearance is different, but the funda-mental vision remains the same. Nevertheless, there are definite ad-vantages to this approach: it affords cor~tinuity with the past--a matter of concern to older members; it accommodates itself to new circumstances.--- a mattef of importance for younger members; and it introduces, ch~inges gradually sb that there is sufficient time to become accustomed to one set of changes before more_ are introduced--a matter of expediency in all social changes. Yet such an option Carries with it a'notable liability: it relies on a vision that is basically unattractive and unacceptable to many. ~ ~ ¯ Nonetheless-, the right of a community to take this option must be respected, for it may be the only option that a particular community can really live with.8 To follow an out-dated vision may not be wise, but it need not be wrong.dn fact, the attempt to .jerk away an apparent Linus blanket from those committed to a traditional vision is likely to be disrup-tive of both community and apostolate? .Without arbitrarily precluding the o sit might be well to develop a declaration of rights for religious similar to Vatican II's Declaration on Religious Freedom. '~Th6 hazards of adopti0g a new vision are forcefully, though stridently, indicated by J. Hitchcock, The.Decline and Fall o~ Radical:~Cbtholicism (New York, 1971); with-out accepting his viewpoint, one can still~adna!t the need for facing straightforwardly his criticisms. 83b / Review for Religious, Vrlume 33, 1976/6 possibility of future change, a community may.decide very realistically and very,' honestly that its capacity for renewal can only accomplish so much at~a ~iven moment of its history. Communities that decide to retain a traditional vision of community and'apostolate would be well advised not to"eng~ge any of their members in,individual, apostolates that require a life-styl~ that'is basically incompatible with the community,s traditional, vision and thus 'threaten its ~corporate identity. The predictable resulr~'would be serious dissension that.:the, com~ mfihity .may not be prepared to bear:~Yet this need not imply that such communities need to exclude ever~ type of individual.apostolate; what is implied is that~each proposed individual apostolate must be carefully ex-amined for its concordance.with the community's self-vision and self-identity. ,, The Problem, of Pluralism : If the traditional vision is~unattractiw or untenable, what is the new vision of ~community and apostolate? The ~option would be simple~ if a compelling new vision were~ at hand;'then at least-the choice would be.~ clear-cut: traditional or new. Unfortunately there is no one unifying vision that demands acceptance. If it is quite clear that modern life is techno-logical not agrarian, pluralistic not uniform, it is not clear how such aspr'cts .can be synthesized in a new vision. Instead of one new vision, there are~ any number of competing visions--each with advantages~ all'with their respective liabilities. The way to the future seems tobe: may. the best vision win! It is then quite understandable why many religious prefer to hold on to the~ vision they have, whatever.its deficiencies, rather than risk'the vague uncertainties of some apparently more problematic replacement. It is equally understandable why many other religious tend to hedge their op-tions ,by tentatively exploring new possibilities, while keeping a firm'grasp on,a traditional vision. Still., just as a diversity of liturgical practices and theological viewpoints has emerged in. the post-conciliar Church, so a similar diversity in life-styles and visions of community and apostolate has emerged in post-conciliar religious life. This ~variety is rooted in a greater theological awareness of the diversity in the mystery of Christ, the uniqueness of each person, and the temporal and cultural plurality of mankind.~° Where formerly uniformity was prized,as exemplifying the uhity of the Church, now pliJralism is seen as reflecting the Church's catholicity. Yet if it is easy~to pay lip-service to pluralism, it is much more difficult ~°Cf. E. Carter, "Pluralism in Christian Life," R[R 31 .(1972), 22~26; K. Rahner~ "Pluralism in Theology and the Oneness of the Churchs' Professiono o~ Faith," Con~ cilium 46: 103.123; A. Dulles', "Dogma as an Ecumenical Problem,'" 'Theological S~udies 29 (1968),~ 397-416 (reprinted in Dulles! The~'Survival ot Dogma [Garden City, New York, 1971], pp. 152-170). ,Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 837~ to cope consistently with its implications. For example, some religious have adopted new life-styles, but have not related these to a new vision; and vice versa, new visions 'have been officially adopted in constitutions and rules without subsequent implementation in a community. ~ More importantly, the transition from uniformity to pluralism is both threatening~and enticing. Those who were trained for, or are congenitally inclined to, a life of uniformity and regularity can be severely confused by a,superabundan~e of choices and°the burden of responsibility inherent in a pluralistic situation:~°For example, obedience seems to furnish an excuse for some religious to become over-dependent on their superiors; or vice versa, obedience seems to allow some superiors to pre-empt most decision-making from their subordinates. If some r~ligious pale at pluralism~ it may be the threat of responsibilities that they are unwilling or unable to, bear; similarly, if some ~superiors resent pluralism, it may be through unwilling-ness to share their authority with former subordinates. Another dismaying aspect of pluralism is the potential loss, of com-munity support-systems; when familiar practices vanish, religious ma~' feel themselves ostracized from the group or isolated in their work. Change ih any form is unsettling to creatures of habit, but clinging to a traditional pattern may result in isolation. Since the prospect of losing the respect and understanding of one's companions is~unnervihg, pluralism can prove to be just as formidable to younger religious as to older. In the case of the younger, ,it can be the refusal to adopt the ~vision currently in vogue among their peers. Yet if pluralism ig threatening; it is also attractive. In place of the enervating burden of predictable routine there is the prospect of flexibility and variety in both communal and ~ apostolic life. Religious life is more easily seen as a challenging opportunity for'personal initiative and creativity in the service of Christ. For example, obedience may be seen~ as a commit-ment to Christ that takes the form of submitting one's proposed activities tO the critical encouragement and the charismatic~ evaluation of one's col-leagues; authority is pr!marily that of competent advice; ultimate responsi-bility is one's own before Christ and community. But such a revised view of~ obedience has to be accepted, not ~ofily by the individual but by the community, which may have fo ask whether it can function with a number of different and divergent views of obedience. Another attractive aspect of pluralism is the atmosphere which~ the community provi~tes religious for developing their self-potefitial both in their lives as Christians and in ~their apostolates; this implies a willingness and openness in sharing insights and successes, failures and feelings; in-deed, the diversity of apostolates undertaken by their colleagues can be-c~ me an incentive for religious to Work at~maximum capacity. The preceding contrast exemplifies some of the positive and negative aspects of pluralism. The examples may also help explain why individuals 838 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 react quite differently to the prospect of pluralism: some feel threatened; others are attracted; still others would like to have the advantages of both uniformity and pluralism without the liabilities of either.11 Insofar as pluralism seems to have emerged within religious life more as the result of a series of individual decisions and external trends than through precise planning for pluralism, its implications need attention. Earlier, pluralism in religious life tended to exist more as a collective phe-nomenon: different communities constituted a diversified spectrum of "catholic" religious life, but any one community tended to occupy only a section of this spectrum; each community enjoyed a fairly well specified corporate apostolic identity. The importance attached to this identity-via-apostolate is illustrated by the fact that some communities (even when personnel was available) refused to undertake certain apostolates, as incompatible with their constitutions; as a result, some communities originated as off-shoots of others, when a new apostolate was needed which the parent community felt unable to enter. "Of course, some communities have always allowed greater internal diversity than others. For example, if some communities have restricted their endeavors to one or two specific apostolates, others have undertaken a variety. At first sight, individual apostolates appear to be simply an exten-sion of this variety. And in fact, this seems to be the way most individual apostolates have come about: superiors have allowed individual religious to accept experimental apostolates as exceptions to accustomed practices. In fact, these exceptions have gradually reached the point in some com-munities- where a comparatively high percentage of members is involved; in some instances, proportionately more members are now in individual apostolates than are in some traditional ones. In effect, the exceptions appear to be constituting a new rule, though there is not always a new vision to accompany it. Thus, the introduction of individual .apostolates may precipitate a re-orientation of a community's self-vision and self-identity. In other words, individual apostolates seem to imply the acceptance of a plurality of visions, only some of which are com-patible with traditional vision(s). The basic question then is: to what extent is a community really willing to accept the implications of pluralism? Practical Options A community's Vision of its apostolate(s) is a vital element in its cor-por. ate identity; presumably its apostolic vision is an important factor in attracting, applicants ,and in training younger membersi presumably too, 11The reaction of any person to pluralism seems to involve a number of intertwined factors--personality, intelligence, education, age, occupation, etc.--so that it is im-possible to predict an individual's receptivity.to pluralism. Nor is receptivity~ merely a matter of age; the contrast "traditional-pliJralistic" is not identical with older versus younger~ Also, one may doubt whether it is possibl6 'to foster pluralism simply through instruction~ Individual Apostolates and Pluralism /839 apostolic vision is an essential motivation for the special spirit and dy-nainism of a community. Moreover, apostolic vision is necessary if a community is to avoid being victimized by the needs of the moment and to pla.n its activities on a long range basis. It is crucial, then, for a com- ~iinity to delineate its apostolic vision as clearly as possible, while recog-nizing that every option involves risk.1~ ,~ first option is for a community to continue its institutional aposto-late( s) as~ its primary and (probably) exclusive commitment. Presuming of course that its institutions are really viable, the most-compelling motive for this option can be found in the fact that this is what the membership recognizes as its proper charism and commits itself to do. The evident risk is that this option is not particularly appealing to those who want to work in a more personalized setting; thus, recruitment of new members and dis-satisfaction among present members could well be problems. Moreover, this option may yield to the temptation to abandon the struggle to live a religious life in the modern pluralistic world. The polar-oppbsite' is the option to make individual apostolates the primary and presumably exclusive emphasis in a community.~As a means of responding to challenges facing the Church in the modern world, thisop-tion presupposes considerable flexibility in community structures as well as Considerable self-reliance on the~part of individual religious. These pre-sumed strengths may be dissipated through excessive individualism on the one hand or through lack of traditional support-systems on. the other. While a few commuriities," or at least some segments .of communities, appear to be headed in the direction of this option, what may really be at stake is the creation of new communities (even though the present may not seem a particularly auspicious moment for new found~tiofis). L oA compromise between these two options is the attempt to. juxtapose ¯ institutional and individual apostolates. In greater or less degree, this is theo~present option of many active communities in the United States. In-deeid, it seems to be a typical bit of American pragmatism for a community to allow its members to dream different visions, to work in diffe~rent settings, oani:l, yet to unite, together as members of one family. If such diversity defies theoretical alignment, American religious will presumably be content, as long as their community lives and works harmoniously, however diversely. Compromise will tend to succeed as long .as religious are genuinely tolerant of the inevitable tensions that diversity introduces. The unavoidable risk is that s'uch a compromise will become unglued for example, through a wide-spread failure to fulfill responsibilities both in apostolates and in religious life, through favoritism or factionalism introduced when one group attempts to impose its views on others, or through the difficulty of attracting new members to a pluralistic life. r-'Cf, the interesting interview with a superior,general, C. Buttimer, "Is Religious Life Viable Today?" America 128/4 (February 3, 1973), 86-90. 840 / Review Ior Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 If compromise is to be successful, it is important for the members of a community~ explicitly to recognize the terms of the compromise. In other words, if the tensions arising from diversity in visions and a variety of life-styles are not to. be divisive, a community needs to recognize and to ,accept a spectrum of variant models of apostolic endeavor and of, community life. A community should specify the extent of pluralism that it is capable of tolerating. For example, some communities may be ,open to any type of individual apostolate; others may wish to restrict themselves~ tO select types. Without prior specification or evaluation, .there is potential for arbitrary decision-making, either real or imagined; there is also the likelihood of disillusionment among members if their expectations, ,whether realistic or idealistic, are :not met. (Disillusionment can affect both those who expect the traditional apostolates to be maintained, as well as~ those who, want ind~ividual apostolates to be introduced.) . ~ ~ The acceptance of pluralism should eventually. 'be expressed in bbth the constitutionS, which describe a community's aprstolic vision, and in the rules,~which attempt to concretize this vision in the life.of a community. Such, formulation is .a difficult endeavor, as the revisions undertaken after Vatican II amply confirm.13 Moreover, the emergence of individual aposto-lates adds to the.complexity: first, since the vision is pluralistic and personal, constitutions apparently can do little more than generalize about the limit-points of the pluralism that is acknowledged in principle~ secondly, if rules presumably reflect the lived experience of a community over a period of ¯ time, individual apostolates, in their present form, ar~ both recent and .still .experimental. Accordingly, .different communities may choose .to accept individual apostolates .in rather different ways. Some communities may find it feasible to consider tliem as extensions of existing apostolates; for example, a com-munity., whose apostolate is in education may decide to restrict the ac-ceptance of individual apostolates to educational endeavors. Other com-munities, which have defined their apostolates in terms of specific groups (e.g., poor,~ unevangelized, ethnic, etc.) may allow individual apostolates as a broadening of their ministry to these groups. Still other communities may encourage any~,type of new individual apostolate that displays some relation to witnessing Christ in the modern world.' At least as crucial as express recognitio,n of individual apostolates~ in :constitutions and rules is the way religious regard such formulations. For some, rules are principles that must be uniformly applied in partiCular in-stance. s; others would view rules as determinations that are to be supple-mented and emended according to actual experience. This contrast is given visual form,,in the first case, by those rules that are published in leather-l'~ Cf. J.l_~zano, "Revision of the Constitutions: Meaning, Criteria, and Problems," R]R 34 (1975), 525-534. Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 841 bound, red-edged volumes resembling miniature Bibles; in the second.case, rtiIes migtit well be mimeographed on loose-leaf sheets and placed in folders to facilitate periodic revision and up-dating. At least this illustration may indicate tha~t attempting to specify'rules for a diversity of individual aposto-lates is a ~tenuous enterprise. In addition, it suggests that traditional rules; however well suited to institutional apostol~ites, should not simply be used as .an umbrella to cover the new situations encountered in individual aposto-lates. Since uniform rules for individual apostolates tend to be anomalous in theory and impractical in"fact, it seems necessary for commuifities whose members are engaged in individual apostolates to develop new approaches: It may well bethat'a community may decide to'formulate guidelines for community or .procedures~for administration or standards .for~professional life for those members in individual apostolates. In so doing, a community will need to face squarely both the advantages and the draffbacks that are encountered in attempting to live and work with quite different 'types of apostolates and life-styles within tile same community. o In any pluralistic situation, it is obviously impossible to lis't all the variables; yet it may be helpful to saml~le a few problem areas: administra-tive procedures, community life, and personal freedom. Administrative Procedures In the halcyon days of institutional apostolates, administration .may have been tedious, but it f~equently had the advantage of following a,stan-dard pattern of applying general norms to particular cases. This '.view. of administration is inadequate for dealing with individual apostolates (and, it should be added, With most institutional apostolates as-well). On the one"hand, individual apostolates tend to elude uniform norms, unless these a~'e~,extremely general; on the other hand, individual apostolates necessarily change the roles of and relationship between superiors and subordinates; This change in, roles" is graphically illustrated by the religious who occa-sionally employed the provincial' superior on a part-time basis. A prime factor in the:reorientation of roles is the fact that in most indi- .vidual apostolates, religious .need a fair amount of latitude to negotiate with prospective employeis and that, ~once employed, their work is not under, the direct supervision of community superiors. As a result; a superior's role tends to be narrowed to antecedent approval (for it is frequently unfeasible, if not counterproductive, for a superior to become involved in negotiations) ¯ and subsequent ratification, which may,be tantamount to rubber-stamping a iait accompli. Some superiors may find this process quite congenial; they have plenty of other problems and are quite relieved if some religious can successfully pursue their individu~ apostolates without supervision. Other superiors may feel more or less frustrated at wanting .to be helpful yet not being needed or at wanting to give daily directives yet being powerless; they may subcon- Review Ior Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 sciously resent the apparent diminution of their authority. All of these reactions manifest, a lack of appreciation of the change in roles in the superior-subordinate relationship. If it is unrealistic to expect to transfer a set of relationships en masse from institutional to individual apostolates, what then is the role of the superior in relation to religious in this context? First of all, a superior has to take seriously the individuality of each apostolate as well as the personality of each religious; in effect, each apos-tolate must be considered as a separate and somewhat unique case, just as each religious ~is a unique individual. Instead of applying general norms to individual cases, a reverse process is needed: whether and how general principles apply needs to be discovered through an evaluation of each apostolate. The latter task can only be carried out as a joint effort of supe-rior and subordinate, acting as colleagues. . Accordingly, the role of the superior is less a matter of issuing com-mands and more a matter of fostering dialogue, discernment, and discre-tion. 14 Dialogue is necessary if the superior is to understand different apos-tolates from the viewpoint of participant religious; though this does not necessarily imply that a participant's view is always the best, still it should at least be the point of departure for productive discussion. Discernment, in the sense of raising appropriate questions to evaluate the potential, and performance for an individual apostolate, must also be a joint endeavor if the merits and disadvantages of a particular apostolate are to be appreci-ated. Discretion, which aims at deciding on an appropriate course of action among a number of alternatives, should also be shared; it is pointless to impose a decision that one cannot or will not be implemented. Obviously, such an approach to community administration requires a more personal type of communication than may have been customary in the supervision of institutional apostolates. Where a large number of indi-vidual apostolates are involved, such an approach may require that super-visory responsibilities be divided among more than one superior. Effective use of such an approach demands that superiors be skilled in interpersonal communication; in practice, this may mean that other administrative tasks, such as financial management, may have to be delegated to others. If a new administrative approach is required for individual apostolates, no approach is a panacea. While a more personal approach may be more human and hopefully more productive, both superiors and subordinates should realize that there is no advance assurance that their discussion will prove fruitful: if ~dialogue can result in agreement, it also may make any disagreement painfully evident; if discernment can raise crucial questions, l~One of the reasons-that dialogue, discernment, and discretion have become m~ajor concerns in post-conciliar renewal is linked to increased recognition of religious as persons; an added reason for the importance of these means here is the individuality of apostolates. Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 843 it may also end in self-contented deception; if discretion can aid in deter-mining appropriate action, it is also an arbitrary selection among alterna-tives. There is no method that as such will guarantee success. For example, one question that dispels any roseate vie

Issue 34.1 of the Review for Religious, 1975. This was the first issue edited by Dan Meenan, S.J. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~ 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scriptiqn U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor January 1975 Volume 34 Number 1 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Review for Religious is published in January, March, May~ July, September, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edi-tion of Review for Religious is available from University Microfilm; Ann Ar-bor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1975 by Review for Religious. Symposium on Continuing Formation Peter W. Cantwell, O.F.M. Sister Margaret McGovern, R.S.M. Brother Ronald Perry, F.M.S. In the following is given the text of three talks given in March 1974 to the Combined Major Superiors' Conference of Australia. PRINCIPLES OF CONTINUING FORMATION By Peter W. Cantwell, O.F.M. (Father Cantweli is Deputy Head of the Department of Pastoral Studies at Yarra Theol?gy Union in Box Hill, Australia, and a Director of Formation for the Franciscan Fathers. His address is: Franciscan Retreat House; 39 Sackville Street; Kew, Victoria 3101; Australia.) The most obvious question to ask at the beginning of a paper such as this is: Why continuing formation at all? The Need for Continuing Formation The first answer that comes to mind is: There are no professionals in living! We never graduate from the undergraduate status in the katter of life and liv-ing. And the other side of the coin is: It is surprisingly easy to become a drop-out from the university of life, to become someone who feels that he has now arrived and earned a rest and doesn't need to learn any more, and that it is now time to rest on his laurels! Well, in God's dealings with His chosen people, as soon as laurels were seen as things to rest on, then the People of God were broken in some very real way. To be a follower of Christ is a process of con-tinuing conversion of heart; we never have the faith in a static sense, but it is something that grows in us and must keep.growing. Augustine described the process of faith as: Hands groping in the dark. It is very easy, and very human, to give up the groping and find a comfortable niche. So the real question is not: How do we justify the time given to continuingformation? but rather: How do we justify not making it more of a priority than perhaps we do? We should not be asking "Why?" but rather "Why not?" 3 4 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 One of the answers sometimes given to the "Why not?" question is: Someone else has to do my work while I am away, and besides l am not con-tributing to the Province during that time. The second statement is invalid, for surely ! am preparing myself to be better equipped when I come back. And possibly the first statement reflects a certain mania for productivity and an ap-proach to religious life which is over task-centered (work is primary) rather than person-centered (the person is primary). But beyond the more general human need for continuing education and re-education-- being experienced in many fields today quite outside Church circles: teachers, nurses, management, and so forth--there are several very clear reasons from within the Church which emphasize the need for continuing formation. Vatican II specifically challenged religious to respond to the needs of the contemporary world and thereby make themselves more striking and credible witnesses to the gospel. It demanded of religious that they be attentive to the signs of the times and that they speak the good news to the people of this century and not the last. The challenge of Vatican iI was and is virtually a mandate for rebirth, and it was the impetus of Vatican II which stimulated the search for a new identity for religious orders and congregations. This mandate for rebirth was made doubly complicated by the rapidity of the changes occurring in society around. Not only did religious have to catch up on ~a world that was already in front, but on a world that was accelerating at a frightening rate (see Future Shock). So in religious life at the moment we have not only abandoned many struc-tures which have ceased to be useful and begun to search for new horizons--a challenging enough task on its own--but we have to try to accomplish this in a rapidly changing environment. In a recent article Karl Rahner analyzes the whole question of change in reference to religious life and concludes that one of the primary demands on religious today is to cope with a situation of change where many of the familiar landmarks have gone for good. This in itself puts considerable pressure on people: It requires a deeper and more solidly based personal maturity to be able to cope with change than it did to live year after year in a fairly codified, unchanging, structured, more conforming religious life. So if I were to try to sum up the need for continuing formation, the sum-mary would run something like this: --if we want to keep growing as persons, we need it. --if we want to answer the challenge of ,Vatican 1I, we need it. --if we want our witness to keep pace with and be relevant to today's world, we have no other option. Definition With that in mind I would like to try to give a description of how 1 see con-tinuing formation: The facilitation of the continuing growth of the whole person so as to promote a deeper and fuller commitment to the person and mission of Christ. Symposium on Continuing Formation Put perhaps in a more simple form, I do not ~believe that the central goal of continuing formation is to give people a lot more knowledge or produce people who are a lot better informed (though that is part of it, as we shall see), but rather to help the person: believe more in himself, believe more in life, believe more in Christ. This demands a real wrestling with myself in the radical depths of my faith-committed humanity, a continuing conversion~ as I try to inch forward in growth towards a fuller realization within myself Of the fullness of the Person of Christ. IMPLICATIONS Growtl~ and Attitude Change The first term in the description is "growth." Growth is and must be the central issue in continuing formation (or any formation for that matter). And something that is closely associated with the whole notion of growth is attitude change. What is an attitude? In my day-to-day living what determines the way l am ~oing to act in various situations is the set of attitudes which my life ex-periences to date have taught me. An attitude could then be simply described as "the way I perceive a situation," and it determines the way I will behave in a given situation. If my attitude towards change is that it is unnecessary, then my behavior will probably be one of resistance. If my attitude towards myself is one of general insecurity, change will be threatening for me, and 1 will resist again but for a different reason. Attitudes are usually fairly deeply engrained, they are a distilled product of my life experiences to date, they are very much tied to the center of my per-sonhood, "where I am at now." So they change only slowly and with much ef-fort. Attitude change is usually described as a threefold process, involving: firstly, beginning to let go of the old outlook and behaviors ("unfreezing"); secondly, looking around for a new frame of reference and new behavior models ("changing"); and thirdly, trying to solidify the newly acquired outlook and behavior so that they become a permanent part of the person's functional repertoire ("refreezing"). I would like to group the,first set of principles for continuing formation un-der these various dimensions of attitude change. '° Unfreezing" The first thing we are asking the person to undertake in attitude change is to venture out of an accustomed way of acting and to look around for new possibilities. Any person does this only with great caution, very tentatively, and. in an atmosphere of trust and acceptance, and is more likely to be too slow rather than too fast in the process: Hence: 6 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 If we are aiming at real growth, we can expect varying degrees of resistance, because we are asking persons to venture out into strange territory. In this venture it is very necessary that I see the need to move and am willing to take the risk involved. It is no good if you are trying to drag me along by the scruff of the neck. So: We cannot force people to grow or be renewed. A lot of time must be spent in eliciting the molivation Io want to grow. The effectiveness of a program depends to a large extent on how open the people participating are to the goals of the program, I feel it must be a terribly strong temptation for a superior, often out of sheer desperation, to use a large amount of moral and even physical pressure on those who are dragging their renewal heels to do programs that they simply do not want to do. Well, they might learn some new information, but they cannot possibly grow unless they want to. Father Nebreda, in his framework of catechesis, speaks of pre-evangelization: a kind of remote preparation for the proclamation of the good news. I think we need a type of pre-evangelization in the renewal work, almost like watering the ground before the plough comes along. There is a basic psy-chological axiom which says: People cannot be taught or learn who feel at the same time that they are being attacked. I feel that at times we need to spend more time watering the ground, gently listening to people and freeing them from the threat that they are about to be put through the compulsory sausage machine. Quite frequently we might find a surprising willingness under the camouflage of opposition. The next principle is perhaps self-explanatory: The longer a person has been in a relatively unchanging structure, the more resistance there is likely to be to change. Behavior patterns that have been in operation for a longer period of time, especially with people who are less secure in themselves, tend to become such a part of the person that change, while dearly Wished for, should not be expected. 1 often feel that the best and most that we can do for such people is to create opportunities for growth, encourage participation, but be open to the possibility that change may not be likely and that psychologically the person will remain where he or she is. The superior is then faced with the difficult situation of trying to find a niche for him which will be meaningful and enable him to feel that he is contributing something worthwhile, which will not de-mand change, but at the same time not create unnecessary hardships for those in the community who are trying to change. Quite a job! The last principle in this section is one which is very important: Real growth involves risk-taking and pain and tension, and may include the need for special help for a period of time. Sometimes, no matter how well one prepares a program and how well one screens people for it, an individual comes along who cannot cope with it and Symposium on Continuing Formation / 7 wl~o suddenly finds that he needs specialized help. (l would evenlike to extend the.principle and say that at some of the more critical phases of our individual growth most of us need something more than the ordinary help!) But to get back to renewal. In our experience, some superiors tend to overreact to this temporary inability of one of their subjects to cope. Well, if casualties con-stantly happened with the one program then one should ask some serious questions about the program. But an equally valid approach where real growth is concerned might see such a time of passing personal conflict as a not-to-be-unexpected factor of real efforts to grow, and if rightly handled by the right person such conflicts can be catalysts for very real growth. In fact we grow only through tension and conflict. And it could be far better for such tension and conflict to come to the surface in a controlled situation such as a program rather than when the person is busily engaged in the normal commitment to the apostolate. I am saying that to want "growth without casualties" is unreal and is perhaps wanting to avoid one of the unavoidables in growth. "Changing" We now come to the second stage of attitude change. Having tried to let go of an accustomed way of acting, the person is left in a state of confusion or doubt. That is an uncomfortable feeling, and gives rise to a strong motivation to resolve it. There are two ways that the person will usually try to do this. The first is to try to have a clear idea of the new goal that he is heading for, to seek to try to establish a new conceptual framework, to find ideas and ex-planations which are more in accord with life as he now sees it: lectures, books, reflection, the experience of others, and so forth--all the ways that we can find things out. He is looking for a new vision as to where he is heading. It is here that we treat of the place of new information in continuing education: Input and new information is an essential element of growth, but it can be, and often has been, wrongly made equivalent to growth. I think we all know the positive need and real benefits of new information, so just let me state some of the things that worry me about overemphasis on in-formation. Knowing does not necessarily by any means mean doing, and knowing how I should change does not mean that I am any closer to actually changing. I believe that in the early days of renewal within the Church we made the error of thinking that if we could get the latest lecturer with the latest idea on the latest subject then all would be well and we would immediately transform our orders and congregations. Such a notion of growth is one-sided. Know.ledge is essential, it provides a necessary frame of reference for un-derstanding experiences, and it elicits motivation for further growth. But the identification of knowledge with growth, as I think often happened in the older type of seminary training, can have unfortunate consequences. From the in-dividual's point of view it tends to produce the person who can mouth the latest I~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 catchword (be it "caring and sharing" or "togetherness" or whatever) without there being any internal experience to go with it and make sense of it. And from the point of view of the congregation in the context of renewal, it leads to disappointment and cynicism because the expected fruits are not forthcom-ing. But to get back to the positive side, the first need of someone who is trying to change is to have a real and valid frame of reference so that he can see and understand where he is going. A second need to help him in this crucial mo-ment of change is to see this new vision realized in some way or another in the lives of significant people around him. Such significant people would include those who are trying to inject the new ideas (fine words without example are dry), but more particularly the people back hgme, the members of the com-munity and province, and possibly most particularly the leadership in the province. So we say: Change of attitude is greatly assisted where the leadership in a province (overall, not just the provincial or general) approaches some kind of exemplification of the goals of renewal. "Refreezing" The final stage of attitude change is the "refreezing," which simply means that we try to make sure that the acquired learnings persist and become a nor-mal part of the person's behavior. And here the whole environment of a com-munity and a province plays a very significant role. It is not unusual for people to undergo some change, but not be able to maintain it. Many mental hospital patients, for instance, recover in hospital where they are away from the interaction with members of their family or other persons who played an important part in bringing about their breakdown. On leaving the hospital in a reasonably healthy state ofbody and mind they go back to the old context of relationships which promptly brings about a relapse. Either the behavior patterns were not deeply engrained enough, or the environment and atmosphere were so negative as to be destruc-tive. Hence the principle: If growth changes are to be lasting, there is need for a supportive environment and con-tinuing reinforcement. An extreme example of this would be: a religious is removed from an en-vironment which is hostile to any change, given a short intensive program which requires a lot of reintegration on the personal level, and is then returned to the same situation with no follow-up! The more intensive aspects of personal renewal need to be prepared for, nurtured during the moments of change, and solidified through support and follow-up. In other words there needs to be an atmosphere of renewal in a prov.ince, renewal cannot be considered a "oncer" which we now get all our people through and then get back to normal life and work. Some of our friars reflect this wrong attitude when they now say: "1 have done my renewal!" Symposium on Continuing Formation / 9 The Whole Person The second aspect of our definition is that continuing formation is meant to promote the growth of the whole person. I would like to touch on a couple of principles very briefly. The first principle really sums up two things I have said already: Real renewal in a province requires an atmosphere which is "person-centered" as con-trasted to "task-centered" (excessive concern with productivity). If renewal is an urgent need today, then it must come first in practice as well as theory. One of the tensions that many religious whom 1 am counseling are facing today is that numbers in the congregation are dwindling, the same number of commitments is being maintained, and so people are being stretched beyond their elastic limit., and break. That is almost the direct opposite of the at-mosphere which is needed for real renewal. If people are going to be able to have the time and energy necessary to do some real personal reflection and reintegration, to keep pace with changing life today, and to survive in their religious commitments, then possibly they should be doing less than they were before--at least till they do some catching up! The second principle has ]already been touched on too: The whole person--intellectual, spiritual, human--must be considered if renewal is to be lasting: I feel the emphasis has been something like this: the intellectual has been overcatered for, the spiritual has been undercatered for, and the whole human dimension has often been completely neglected. Enough has been said on the intellectual area and the need for information. What of the spiritual? The last part of the description of continuing formation says.~that the overall and primary goal of renewal is "to promote a deeper and fuller commitment to the person and mission of Christ." The faith-prayer-Christ dimensior~ must ob-viously be the air we breathe when talking of renewal, for nothing makes sense outside of this framework. Today, at the very grass roots of religious con-gregations, there is a real awakening of a need for spiritual direction and counseling, .for depth of prayer and the need for reflection--maybe because these have been partly left out of some renewal efforts to date! On the human level, the level of normal personal maturing, the level of adequate preparation for the various stages of life (especially the later stages), the level of the development of a sense of self-worth and self-value, the whole field of a psy-chology and theology of leisure and the creative use of leisure time, we have often been abysmally lacking. But the other papers will fill this out more. The third principle: The whole of each person must be considered if renewal is to be lasting. To achieve this the different members of a province need to have access to a variety of programs. The simple point 1 am making by way of principle is this: In any province we have a variety of people with a variety of needs: the young and the old, those 10 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 who have done a lot of renewal and those who have done little, those brought up under the older formation programs and those under the newer, those who need pre-evangelization and those who need follow-up, those who need something pretty solid for a longer period of time, those groups with special needs (for example, superiors), programs for a single community, coedu-cational programs, intellectual versus experiential programs, and so forth. We cannot hope to find an ultimate program that will suit everyone, that we can put them through, and then imagine that all is done. Finally: A n atmosphere of renewal in a province, and a variety of possible programs to cope with differing needs, is more likely to avoid the dangers of polarization (where few people get a lot and the rest nothing). I feel that a province should, as far as possible, move as a whole,.but within a very broad unity. Pluralism within a broad unity. That might mean that some members need to do less and move more slowly, and others more and move more quickly. A variety of programs helps to spread the leaven as far as possi-ble and avoid dangerous splitting. Conclusion By way of conclusion, I would like to do no more than mention three broad principles which might help us to be as realistic, and even as optimistric, as possible about religious life today: Because growth is a slow and painful process, we should not expect too much too soon from any person or program. Conflict is functional: that is, growth occurs only in a situation of reasonable conflict and tension. In the absence of all ~tension a group stagnales. One of the goals of renewal should be to create a wise pluralism within a broad unity so as to be as open as possible to whatever direction the Spirit moves in. CREATIVE RENEWAL AND RELIGIOUS WOMEN By Sister Margaret McGovern, R.S.M. (Sister Margaret McGovern, R.S.M., is Director of the Social Work Department at the Mater Hospital; Pacific Highway; Crows Nest, N.S.W. 2065; Australia. She is also deeply involved in renewal work for religious throughout Australia.) The previous paper described some of the principles which must be considered when offering and organizing continuing education programs for members of religious congregations. The next paper by Brother Perry outlines in detail how some of the existing programs attempt to meet these needs and shows where there are gaps and overlapping. Here we should like to attempt to tease out some of the difficulties in renewing the total person, with particular application to women religious. Programs designed to stimulate the process of renewal in Symposium on Continuing Formation the individual should not be confused with renewal itself. The latter is the work of the Spirit in the human heart. Programs of renewal are merely predisposing stimuli to the person to enter into the process of rendering himself more aware and able to appreciate and cooperate with the action of the Spirit. Multiple Options of Renewal Stimuli A very basic and fundamental principle here is the necessity of keeping a wide variety of programs continually open as options for a variety of people. We all need education and continuing formation in all aspects of total Chris-tian living. We need to learn and learn again, so that we may deepen and broaden our commitment to the truth who is Christ. Some of us need depthing in one particular area at one stage of our lives, and something quite different at another. Where people's needs are concerned we cannot have a neat, chronological, tightly-boxed sequence of renewal programs. For instance, it seems quite reasonable to presume that people who have been out on the apostolate for fifteen years might like a fairly intensive period of renewal. But even within that one group, what each wants and what each gets from any given program will, predictably, be quite different. (Incidentally~ the attitude behind phrases that one often hears today; "They've had their renewal," "She has done her renewal," betrays a very superficial outlook. Renewal must be a life's task.) Pluralism of opportunity is essential in any attempt to provide stimulus for an individual's growth and conversion.-Conversion is ultimately an individual phenomenon between God and the pers.on concerned: The community does play an important role in terms of support, atmosphere, and encouragement, both humanly and spiritually; but ultimately each individual must face his own conversion alone and against the background of his own individual uniqueness. So there can be no package deals for conversion. Nonetheless, our social condition means that stimuli to growth and renewal will often be provided by some kind of organized course, retreat, and so forth. Optimal Size of Programs Probably the most effective programs are those offered on a small group basis where the chances of remaining uninvolved or untouched are lessened. If a course is offered on a small group basis there is far more likelihood that it can be tailored to the needs of this particular group of people, thus lessening the frustration of those who have already been through a particular experience but are asked to do it again "for the sake of those who haven't done it yet." A small group renewal experience is more likely to get to where the person is at, and to be real formation as well as imparting a certain amount of information. Both of these elements are essential, as the other two papers emphasize. Types of Programs The kinds of continuing formation programs which might well operate for 12 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 the renewal of the total person over a period of years would include the following: updating in some of the key areas of modern theology; exposure to a variety of experiences in prayer forms; opportunities for indepth spiritual renewal, as, for instance, in varied forms of retreats (small groups, private, directed, communal), time in a house of prayer, individual direction; education in methods, forms, and process of community sharing; programs which foster self-awareness in relationship to others; workshops which assist the superior to learn to operate comfortably and.effectively in that role; some education on an even broader basis, for instance, some psychology, sociology, history and so forth, on the principle that some understanding of human and social phenomena lessen the threat of change and adaptation. Some of these programs are more directly spiritual in nature, others are more oriented to the development of the full, human person. Some will be more pertinent to a person at one stage of her growth and others at another. But both are necessary to grow into full maturity in Christ. Combining Resources A major problem is worth mentioning here. Organizationally it is very dif-ficult for major superiors, particularly if working merely with members of their own orders, to continually provide such a wide variety of programs as is suggested here. Intercongregational cooperation would seem to offer a partial solution. While it is quite true that it is important for some of the.renewal ex-periences to be assimilated just with members of one's own congregation (for example, a re-discovery of the charism of the founder), many of the other programs suggested could well be offered on a broader basis, particularly those that are information-oriented. And while major superiors are being mentioned, another point could be made: that it is very important for the major superior not only to arrange programs for the other sisters, but insofar as possible to at-tend and participate and thus model what renewal is all about. Is The Latest The Best? One of the less fortunate attitudes around in the renewal field today is that of equating the latest with the best. There are many courses and programs and experiences provided in the whole field of renewal, and they tend to wax and wane in cycles of popularity, and as the need determines. But they are all'valid and even necessary in the right context.~Choice made on the basis of"the latest is the best" can be not only unhelpful but be positively retrogressive, as for in-stance in the case of a person d6ing a fairly advanced program without the necessary preparation. One of the most recent renewal booms has been in the area of directed retreats: six to eight days, thirty days, and so forth. One cannot avoid the im-pression that a great number of sisters are enrolling to do one of these because it is the latest renewal "must." Speaking to this subject, David Fleming says: Symposium on Continuing Formation The accomplishment of having spent thirty days in prayer can easily be set up as a false criterion for determining who the really renewed religious are. It is not so much a con-scious putdown of the "have nots"., but rather a whole atmosphere is being created for the desirability and even necessity of being among this new elite in order to be the good religious (See David Fleming, S.J., "The Danger of Faddism and the Thirty-Day Retreat," Review for Religious, 1974, p. 97.) What we must try to do is to continually provide a wide variety of renewal opportunities to satisfy a factually wide variety of needs, including the latest types of programs but not overemphasizing these. It is a subtle and ticklish thing not only to spread the canvas wide but to present the various facets of the canvas objectively, so that those who are beginning a renewal process in their lives will begin at the right place, without at the same time feeling inferior to or outmastered by those who have been on the path for some time. And perhaps one of the more difficult and time-consuming tasks of the major superior is to keep encouraging each member to continually grow from where she is at and in whatever way she feels best. What of the Non-Participants? We need to make sure that renewal stimuli can get to all--or maybe we should say that all have the opportunity of getting tO renewal. Over recent years there has been a spate of workshops in the areas of personal awareness, communication skills, and so forth. These are good and necessary and serve a specific function. But what of the sisters who are not touched by these and who are perhaps frightened of becoming involved in such a course? We have left behind, in many cases, the second novitiate concept and taken on four to six week renewal programs. These are usually quite eclectic in terms of offering a broad smorgasboard of renewal possibilities. But not all will be touched by these either. What of them? For major superiors this differential rate of participation can be worrying, as it can seem that the more they supply to their communities the more it looks like a case of "to those who have, more will be given." And the worrying other side of the coin is the impression that the fearful ones are falling further behind. It is unfortunate if renewal becomes a cause of polarization, and yet, in many communities, it appears to be just that. Creative Leisure One of the questions that needs more attention in renewal today, especially for female religious, is the whole question of education for some form of creative leisure. The appreciation of and provision for Ieisure was by tradition abysmally lacking in many women's congregations. This has no doubt been responsible for a lot of the maladjustment and discontent of many women religious who were trained in and lived under that system. We are not talking about an easier way of life! We are speaking of the opportunity, and the regular opportunity, to just stop and be, to be able to get out of and away from 14 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 the pressure of the normal workaday job, to restore, revitalize, and refresh one's inner body and spirit., in whatever way each individual best enjoys do-ing that. Leisure is the chance for me to experience myself in relation to myself, others, and creation. Some appreciation and cultivation of leisure is very necessary to cultivate prayer in depth. We are still very heavily tainted by the good old Protestant work ethic of productivity, consumerism, materialism, getting the job done even if it means working ourselves into the ground doing it. And often we do just that and ruin even our productive hours of work ,because we are too exhausted or dried up. Leisure includes simple things like taking exercise--according to the medical profession a very healthy activity. How many women in your com-munity get any regular creative exercise: playing tennis, squash, golf, swim-ming, doing yoga, going on bush walks, and so forth? Women by their nature are creative: someone cooks nicely, sews beautifully, paints, and so forth. But how often do they get the chance to do it just for the sheer joy of doing it? And in the leisure field there are limitless possibilities in adult education courses: pottery, basket weaving, literature, history, and so forth. In many cases for women religious this part of their lives has been neglected for so long that. they almost have a need to be educated towards leisure and the creative use of such. And this is where leadership is needed in terms of providing opportunity for and positively encouraging women religious towards developing themselves in this area. Conclusion And that brings us back to where we started from: that renewal can only be thought of in terms of a continual, ongoing, lifelong process embracing the whole Christian person, body, mind, and spirit. That means trying to keep the body fresh, the mind informed, and the spirit as close to the Lord as possible; These conditions assist the woman religious today to witness to the simple gospel message of the good news of Christ in a world where the only constant is change, where adaptation is continually being demanded of her, and where the pressure on her to really be something for modern man is steadily increasing. RENEWAL AND CONTINUING EDUCATION: WHAT IS HAPPENING AND WHAT HAPPENS? By Brother Ronald Perry, F.M,S. (Brother Ronald Perry has contributed much to the renewal of religious life in Australia and is the Director of the Sydney Archdiocesan Institute of Counselling. His address is: Marist Brothers; 16 Dorahy Street; Dundas, N.S.W. 2117; Australia.) We may distinguish forms of continuing education under three possible headings: remedial, retraining, and continuing stimulation. By "remedial" we mean any form of continuing education that involves updating in all its variations, where, the attitude change that we all vaguely call renewal is'en- Symposium on Continuing Formation couraged or stimulated or begins to take place. The religious life document from the council is subtitled the "appropriate renewal" or the "adaptation and renewal" of religious life. Most renewal programs are heavily geared in this direction with the stress often on what is "new." By "retraining" we mean the process where we either prepare a person or a group for a new role or task or, without such specific goals, strive to develop the talent and potential of individuals or groups. This is basically a process in-volving a good deal of time and depthing. This retraining may be developmen-tal, and aimed therefore at improving the potential of a person in a rather general way; or specific, where it aims to prepare a person for a specific task or role, such as novice master, spiritual director, counselor, and so forth. In either case it involves much forward planning, consultation with the person con-cerned, a reasonably clear statement of aims, and often withdrawal from pres-ent activities for a time. By "continuing stimulation" we mean the type of program where we aim to call persons to continuing conversion, to recall the challenge and the grace of the gospel gift and call, and to depth the experience of the faith again. This we must do always. But in particular we must ensure that it can happen at every stage of a person's passage through life. This type of program is also always "new" but in a different sense of new to what we were referring to abo','e: it is the newness of the gospel and its constant challenge to us. RENEWAL IS OFTEN REMEDIAL Factors in Renewal Firstly, it is important to reflect on where renewal leads us and what is in-cluded. As we try to analyze the different aspects of renewal programs and the different sorts of skills and knowledge that are required for us to begin to change in a very fundamental way, three distinguishable aspects emerge: (a) We need a great deal of new intellectual knowledge that will enable us to establish new cognitive frames of reference to help us think with the Church. Specifically today this means becoming up-to-date in thinking with the Church, in, for instance, the whole new emphases in dogmatic theology that have emerged since the Council. Again, moral theology is a particularly impor-tant area where a fuller understanding of sin, reconciliation, penance, law, and authority is very important to enable us to move away from an approach to morality that was geared primarily to laws and "do's and don't's?' Recent developments in Scripture, what it means and what its central importance is in the life of the Christian, must be a vital area of concern in all our attempts at renewal. (b) We need a new capacity to share in community. This second aspect of renewal seems to consist in the development of a real capacity to share with others and to support others in community (in whatever situation that might happen to be), to share one's faith vision with others, and to communicate in charity and truth. This has been one of the great riches of the renewal in the 16 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 Church over the last several years. It reflects something that is happening in society at large, and has led us, by comparison to older forms of religious life, to a deeper understanding of the Church as community. (c) We need a new possibility of self-understanding and self-awareness before God. It has always been said that real renewal is personal renewal, and one aspect of the movement away from structures is that each person is called and challenged to look at himself more closely, more truly, and to face himself before God in a way that is more genuine (see Review for Religous, 1974, pp. 78-84 for an illustration of this). These three areas involve great variety and richness, and their attainment also means overcoming some difficulties, as for instance the development of a particular climate and particUlar skills. But it would seem that we have no choice in facing all three of these areas. The Church frequently calls us to this. Even if we would escape such a call, the pressure of our own contemporaries on us to become more effective witnesses of the Christ of the Gospels leaves no other alternative. The Process of Renewal It is difficult to analyze what we actually expect from all sorts of renewal programs. Perl~aps the following various expectations. schema might tie together some of the Personal self-awareness P A W Listening PRAYERFUL R C I (ableto meet) Community Development A T T Loving HOPEFUL Y I N (tolerant) New frames of reference E O E Relevant COMPASSIONATE (knowledge) R N S (understandable) S Development in the three areas of personal self-awareness, community, and new knowledge will result, if it happens properly, in a new understanding of and new capacity for prayer, but understood in a very different way to "saying prayers." Such a development will take time, and many religious have agonized through the difficulty of abandoning some prayer, shortening their time of prayer, rejecting some forms of prayer, finding some prayers meaningless, and so forth. The above diagram is not meant to imply any miraculous immediacy of results; it is more a question of what does happen frequently and what can happen for all of us. And if our prayer becomes more truly genuine, it should appear as a more credible witness in the action that is the apostolate both inside one's own community and beyond it. In that apostolate, then, we shall be relevant, what we say will be un-derstandable, we will be able as St. Peter suggests to have an answer for those who question us about the faith. We will also be more loving people in that we are more tolerant of others, more open to them however different they may be to us in belief or way of life. And we will be listening people because, with such a message, we are' able to meet them. Therefore, the person who is renewed by whatever process would be seen as Symposium on Continuing Formation prayer-ful, because in a real way in contact with the Lord and expressing that directly; hope-ful, because he is able to offer the world its only hope of un-derstanding meaning in life and seeing hope in what we live; and com-passionate, because able to live with and suffer with and be with fellow humans as Jesus, incarnate on earth, was able to be. Some Principles for Renewal Some principles that apply in the renewal of the whole person would include the following: (a) Development in one area without the others can be problematic. For in-stance, to be offered a solid diet of new understanding of theology without an additional capacity to understand self and to share with others in community, can produce isolated and confused people. On the other hand, to offer people considerable personal development through counseling, group work, and even spiritual direction, without an adequate understanding of the moral and dogmatic principles that are relevant can also lead to confusion. (b) Very few people are too rigid for some change. We often despair in renewal programs and cause polarization because we feel that many people are too rigid to change. I think we need to remember that we have come from a very structured situation and a very structured upbringing. This is probably true of ordinary Catholics, but particularly true of religious, and it is a slow process to change that older frame of reference~ A few people will be too.rigid in character structure to change, but this is the exception rather than the rule and usually results from some personality difficulty. But we should not give up on people too easily. Rather, as suggested by Father Cantwell in the earlieroar-ticle, we should be able to cushion the demands for chahge so that people are asked only to do a small amount at~a time and in ways that can be seen as valid and true for them. (c) This principle of renewal is really a corollary of the last: it is vital not to omit any group. It is very easy to concentrate on the younger ones and the pliable middle age ones! But this is just another way of reinforcing possible polarization. (d) Often, in the initial stages of renewal, it will be important to encourage and help develop some key leaders in order that through these people and their efforts the process will permeate the whole group. This is not the only possible method, and many successful programs have begun with a gathering of the whole province and operating on the principle of unity. However, the latter is not always easy to carry out. In any case, some special attention will need to be paid to encourage leaders to act as bridge-builders: that is, to encourage those who can see what needs to be done, to help them do it with as little aggression and hostility as possible, and with as much resp.ect for each age group and each person as possible. (e) Finally, and perhaps most obviously, renewal is written first in the lives of men. Persons leading renewal must be seen as credible. 1~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/I Types of Programs As we have said already, many types of programs with varied goals are usually gathered together under the one head of renewal. For instance, many a "month of renewal,' is based largely on lectures (knowledge), but takes place within the context of a large group of members of the same community or con-gregation, so that the whole dimension of community development and the challenge of deeper self-awareness become very significant elements of the overall experience. On the other hand, some courses in moral theology, while focusing prin-cipally on lectures and new information, cannot but challenge one's personal understanding of conscience, sin, law, and so forth, and therefore include a good deal of the self-awareness aspect of renewal, though less of the com-munity element. A number of courses on spirituality and spiritual theology are very deep challenges to personal awareness and depthing, would include some know-ledge, but may play down the community dimension a good deal. The in-dividually directed retreat is a good example of this. Some types of community development sessions that focus on group in-tei'action seem to consist mainly of an ensemble of what we have listed as com-munity development and self-awareness. Some sessions that involve training in communication skills would appear to concentrate almost entirely on com-munity development. It might be worth noting here that in the final section labeled "Continuing Stimulation," what has been variously called self-understanding, self-awareness, and so forth becomes self-appraisal, self-examination, self-depthing, the theological experience of conversion and reconciliation . . . because obviously the "self" part means "self before God." RETRAINING: LEARNING THROUGHOUT ONE'S ENTIRE LIFE In the first place we have already mentioned the obvious need for special training for special appointments. We could well ask ourselves if we are always prepared to give sufficient time to this, to look far enough ahead, and to prepare people sufficiently for the actual program. Secondly~ there is the obvious necessity for us to develop the talents that God has given us. But this is a somewhat paradoxical question in Christianity. Two quotations from the Holy Father illustrate this. The first is from Populorum progressio: In the design of God, every man is called upon to develop and fulfill himself, for every life is a vocation. At birth, everyone is granted, in germ, a set of aptitudes and qualities for him to bring to fruition. Their coming to maturity, which will be the result of education received from the environment a0d personal efforts, will allow each man to direct himself towards the destiny intended f9r him by his Creator. Endowed with intelligence and freedom, he is responsible for his fulfillment as he is for his salvation. The second quotation is from a recent talk by the Holy Father on religious life (5/11/72): Symposium on Continuing Formation Let us be clear: the form of religious life must not sacrifice natural talents or personal charisms. It must serve the vocation of each person. And it is a very heavy task for you, Superiors, to see to it that each of your sisters may develop in it, may be treated with con-sideration, be recognized and loved, and be able to bring the best of herself to her com-rhunity and to the world. However, the paradox of the Gospel, which you, more than others, are called to accept :fully, must not be forgotten: "For whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mr 16:25). Be assured: this love ofthe Lord, lived to the extent of renunciation of yourselves, cannot remain without fruit. Bringing you deep joy and the hope of eternal life, it will mysteriously open up for souls the way to the God of love. Yes, in this sense, do not fear to be fully religious. This is a problem for each Christian as he or she faces life. In religious life it is both the vow of obedience and our commitment to each other in com-munity that are necessary constraints to our "self fulfillment." This is a reality of our commitment, and any renewal that refuses to face it is utopian and un-christian, and certainly is not closely connected with religious life and the demands, both personal and apostolic, that it makes. However this is not to say, as the Holy Father emphasizes, that we can afford to "despise natural talents or personal charisms." A third aspect of retraining we hear voiced in all circles today, but par-ticularly among professional people: the necessity for commitment to lifelong education. The phenomenon of professional obsolescence is becoming in-creasingly frequent. Do we realize on the merely practical level how many religious feel a bit obsolescent? Finally, we may need a structure of some kind to facilitate retraining: for instance a committee, a director of studies, to take close consultation with per-sons about their potential and hopes. Again, we are not advocating "doing one's own thing" and that that is the only, or even primary, goal in retraining. Any such studies are obviously done in the context of the whole province, its commitments, and its capacities. (For a general treatment of the various aspects of continuing education, see Review for Religious, 1972, pp. 226-36; 1973, pp. 1325-35.) The Needs of the Different Age Groups The needs of the different age groups must be considered in all retraining programs, It may be useful here to highlight .some of the needs that seem to surface most readily in th~ religious life context. The Young The young have a special need for ideals: frames of reference that point high for them and help them to make the effort to take on the mind of Christ by means of the life style and prayer structures that are offered them. We must be very careful today not to structure too much for the young. But it is worth noting that many novices and junior professed these days complain about not being clear enough on what is expected of them. While we do not wish tO return to an older, highiy structured framework, this demand makes a valid point that all of those concerned with formation must take into account. 20 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 Next, and perhaps even more obviously, the young need welcome-- welcome from the person in charge of their formation and welcome from the total community. They do not belong and they are aware of this. To a small extent they accept it but it is a great thrill for them gradually to come to be-long to the group they have joined. (Could I point out here the need for them to learn their traditions, the traditions both in their origins, and in the local history of the group which they are joining?) Under this same heading they need reasonable support from each other, coupled with the chance to build up a community, to recognize others, and allow them to be different. They also need, and this is perhaps stressed less, independence. They need to gradually learn the solitude and the capacity to be alone, a learning very fun-damental in growth towards real celibacy. This includes the capacity to gradually face themselves. We cannot demand this too early of the young, and ttie excessively long periods of silence in older novitiates were not always help-ful in this regard. On the other hand, an excessive stress on community may not be the answer either. The young also need a forum to work out their questions. They will ask some of these aggressively, and people in formation know to their cost that they have to accept and allow for much of this questioning these days. But while they do allow for it, they do not need to become doormats! All these various needs demand some new goals and ideals, some values that are chosen and followed, some structures that are agreed on and kept to but that are real and relevant. It also assumes that psychologically these y.oung religious are very much on the way to self-discovery, even though the journey has just begun. Early Apostolic Life In their early apostolic life many of the above needs continue with perhaps these additions: They need to acquire professional skill and competerice. This is absolutely essential today and is strongly emphasized in Perfectae caritatis. They need to grow in the capacity to help each other in community. Sometimes the pressure for growth in professional skill crowds this out a little. Like all young people serving in the apostolate, they need the chance and the help to take initiatives, to strive, to succeed, to be recognized, to take risks, to fail, and to be supported by the older members through all this. The task of the older ones is not to withdraw and let them "fail or succeed," but to support them with their maturity and experience, and not to let themselves (the older ones) lose confidence in their role just because they do not have all the bright ideas ~or the quickness of thinking of some younger people. Their maturity, their balance, and their experience are things that the young simply cannot have or do without. They need continuing idealism, encouragement and assistance to center their lives on Christ and to grow towards Him (Eph 4:14). This assumes that Symposium on Continuing Formation they gradually become accustomed to "belonging" to Christ in this community with which they are gradually becoming identified. Middle Age At the present time some of the skills needed and the qualities to be ac-quired by the middle-aged religious would include the capacity to lose hold of some of their acquired frames of reference and to adopt new ones. This is often quite difficult for some middle-aged religious. It is so frequent to hear a major superior say that it is not the old ones who make changes difficult, but those in their forties and fiftie!! Such a change of attitude includes the whole process of "unfreezing" that Father Cantwell has referred to in his earlier paper in this symposium. Then there is the need of the ability to face oneself, with the inevitable feel-ing of failure that often becomes so clear at this stage--a fairly common feel-ing, but that does not make it any easier, is it not also a vital introduction to the meaning of redemption? Such a person also needs the ability to free himself or herself from excessive serf-preoccupation (again not an easy task), to see others as other, whether young or old, and to experience some inner unity. There is also the need to continue to use leisure properly, creatively. And it seems vital at this stage to receive, and to know how to receive, close personal friendship and support, and to be able to give this same support to one's peers. In later middle age some of the above needs may well continue but we may add: the capacity still to use one's potential to the fullest possible extent (it is so easy at this stage to "retire" too early); to appreciate one's own richness at a time of life when that has to mean more than one's capacity to work and to produce; and to have and to use leisure. Another vital feature of this time of life, which is perhaps just as true of earlier middle age, is the need for an opportunity to have a group situation where these personal issues can be face~t. At this stage of life it is almost in-evitable that one must face oneself deeply and personally, and as this often needs to be done with another or with others, supportive group situations are really necessary. This group may also feel the need of separate courses where they are not under pressure from the young or old. Old Age Religious at this stage need to be valued and helped to belong. It is easy for them to feel "out of it." They need to know that the values they have lived by are not abandoned. Often they are reasonably open to change, but only on con-dition they know clearly that the essentials are not denied. Such affirmation and support are an important gift that we owe to our older religious. They should be able to teach compassion to the middle-aged person. Often only the patience and understanding of an older person can help a somewhat younger person to be more tolerant and a little less task-oriented. 22 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 Older religious also need to be asked to hand on their wisdom and their traditions, and to know that their function in life--be it prayer or com-panionship- is valued and appreciated and wanted. CONTINUING STIMULATION I have used this title to indicate that .not all our courses need to use "newness" as the criterion of their excellence. This "newness" has been a strong emphasis in renewal programs in recent times and much of it is both ex-plicable and justifiable. However we always have a continuing need of conver-sion: a need to be joined anew to Christ, to be detached from our own selfishness, to find God's will. It is noteworthy that the article on "spiritual direction" in Sacramentum Mundi lists the process of spiritual direction as i. helping a person to self knowledge; 2. helping a person to self acceptance; 3. helping a person to detachment from his own ego; 4. helping a person to find the present will of God. This is a process that continues at every stage of a person's life, and for which we always need courses and helps that are relevant and stimulating. While "newness" is necessary, it is not the only criterion. Conclusion Finally there is an obvious danger of institutionalizing renewal., and then we shall have to start again. To avoid this it is most important that .personal responsibility be fostered, that opportunities be sought and provided, and that mutual caring and sharing be constantly deepened and encouraged. The New Law for Religious: Principles, Content, Evaluation Kevin D. O'Rourke, O.P. Kevin D. O'Rourke, O.P., is a canon lawyer and the Director of Medical Moral Affairs; The Catholic Hospital Association; 1438 South Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63104. In 1959, on the feast of St. Paul, January 25, Pope John surprised the Catholic Church by announcing that there would be an ecumenical council. At the same time, he stated that the law of the Catholic Church would be revised. After Pope John's death, Pope Paul continued the work, appointing in 1963 a Pon-tifical Commission for the Revision of the Code of Canon Law consisting of forty cardinals. In 1964, he appointed seventy consultors to the Commission. in 1965, tlSe cardinals and consultors were placed on 13 study groups or com-mittees (coetus studiorum) and the revision of the Code of Canon Law began in earnest. The various committees have.held meetings to discuss the needs of the Church insofar as law is concerned. At present, several sections of the revised Church law are nearing completion. The section of the revision in which we are interested, De institutis perfectionis, has been completed in its preliminary form. After 14 general meetings between November 1966 and May 1974, with much work being done by the consultors between the meetings, a tentative set of canons has been produced. These canons will be presented to the Commis-sion on Revision for review, and then, if the practice followed with other sec-tions of the revision is adhered to, they will be sent by Pope Paul to the bishops of the world for evaluation. Because of the nature of the matter, perhaps they will be sent to conferences of major superiors as well. After comments, obser-vations, criticisms, and additions are received, the Committee on Institutes of Perfection will rework the section in light of the additional material and then present it to the Pontifical Commission for Revision for final approval. Since the Holy Father, in collegial union with the bishops, is the legislator in the Church, nothing will be final until his approval is given to the new text. 24 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 Though the tentative text has not been published officially, several accounts of the work of the Commission have been published in the official journal of the Pontifical Commission for Revision, Communicationes.' These accounts, along with some articles written by members of the study group composing the canons, enable us to form a rather accurate picture of the principles, outline, and content of the new canons.~ The purpose of our endeavor, then, will be to present the principles, outline, and content of the new canons for institutes of perfection, and to offer an evaluation of the work that has been completed to date. PRINCIPLES OF THE REVISION Though the first two meetings of the Committee, then known under the ti-tle, De religiosis,3 were productive, at the third session the group determined to formulate principles before proceeding further. These principles would make the work orderly and the discussions less abstract. Accordingly, principles were formulated in accord with the Decree on Religious Life of Vatican Council I I, Perfectae caritatis, with the document implementing the conciliar decrees for religious, Ecclesiae sanctaeo and with the Principles for the Renewal of the Code issued by the Pontifical Commission for Revision? As a result of the Committee's discussion, the following principles were formulated to guide the revision of the laws for institutes of perfection. Spirituality Principle 1. The canons should be stated in such a way that they foster the gift of religious vocation and the presence of grace in the life of those consecrated to the Lord. In other words, the juridical formulation of the canons ought to be harmonized wisely with the theological and mystical elements which lead to the fullness of the spiritual life. Through this principle, the Committee wished to avbid a multiplication of norms and to dispel the idea, held even by some in the consecrated life, that formal and external observance of general or particular laws would lead to perfection. In order to implement this principle, the Com-mittee did two things: Scriptural statements and theological elements were added to the canons, and pastoral canons, hortatory in nature, were als6 employed. aCommunicationes, 1970, pp. 168-81; 1973, pp. 47-69; 1974, pp. 72-93. 2j. Beyer, S.J., "De institutorum vitae consecratae novo jure," Periodica, 1974, pp. 145-68; 179- 222; Mark Said, O.P, secretary of the Committee, "'Progetto della riforma della legislazione codiciale: De religiosis, un giro d'orizzonte," manuscript of a talk given in 1974 to an international conference of major superiors. , 3The title was changed to institutes of perfection after the fourth session, April 1968. Thus, religious life was no longer the paradigm for other institutes in which people practiced the evangelical counsels. The practical changes resulting from this new vision are significant, es-pecially insofar as terminology is concerned. 4Communicationes. 1969, p. 80. The New Law: Principles, Content, Evaluation Individuality Principle 2. The second principle is: the common law of the Church ought to be to foster and conserve the patrimony proper to each religious family. This patrimony consists in the proper and particular charism, the goal, mission, spirit, character, and the tested tradition of each institute. Hence, the canons should be general, all detailed and minute regulations being eliminated since the proper liberty should be afforded each institute. The tendency to group all persons devoted to the following of the evangelical counsels into one category is hereby renounced by the Church. In this manner, the canons will stimulate the self-understanding in each institute, increase an appreciation of the charism of the institute, develop an awareness of the graces received and of the role of the institute in the mission of the Church, and prompt institutes to study and conserve the spirit of the founder. This principle, of course, is in accord with the documents of the Council and seeks to overcome the "leveling" influence of the Code of Canon Law which legislated in too great detail. Subsidiarity Principle 3. The third principle follows from the second. While the constitutive or es-sential principles of the consecrated life should be precisely and clearly stated, other norms should have a certain flexibility so that they may .be applied fit-tingly to different conditions and needs of the Church and institutes of perfec-tion. Essential principles are the same for all institutes dedicated to the evangelical counsels, but in other norms, especially disciplinary norms, sub-sidiarity is needed in order to promote apostolic life and allow adaptation to social and community needs. This principle is contained in the general princi-ple approved by the Pontifical Commission for Revision, but it is applied in this section more liberally because people in institutes of perfecti6n have answered God's call to vocation and should ha~,e greater maturity and respon-sibility. Shared Responsibility Principle 4. The fourth principle, following the admonition of the Conciliar fathers, postulates the need for a more democratic exercise of power in the internal af-fairs of institutes of perfection. Hence, canons which concern the governmental structure.and administration should allo~; representation and cooperation of all members of the institute. Each institute should design suitable governmen-tal programs in light of its nature, spirit, goals, and apostolic mission. Ample freedom must be afforded to develop particular methods of representation and participation in government. Respecting the genius and spirit of each institute, governments should be designed so that the same person does not have office for too long a time, nor too often. Equality Principle 5. The last principle, developed after the Committee had undertaken its 26 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 work,5 concerns equality. Insofar as possible, all institutes of perfection should be treated the same. Hence, there is no longer any distinction in the common law between orders and congregations; between regulars and non-regulars; between solemn and simple vows, granting that there may be some theological difference. Moreover, the Committee sought to eliminate the divisions and divisiveness which arise because of exemption. Hence, exemption, in accord with the documents of the Council, is stressed as a quality affecting the internal life of a community that possesses it. Lastly, the Committee sought to remove all signs of discrimination between institutes of men and women, and between members of each institute. Distinctions might be retained by particular in-stitutes among members, but they are no'longer contained in the general law. The motivation for eliminating all these distinctions was to allow the necessary freedom, thus enabling institutes to find their own identity, to rediscover the spirit of the founder, and after prayer and study, to formulate a body of legislation adapted to their own needs. In doing this, the Committee was aware of certain risks, especially in institutes with less experience; but the risks were considered worthwhile in view of the potential benefits for each in-stitute. For purposes of convenience, I have given each one of these principles a ti-tle. Hence, the five principles which guided the consultors as they wrote the new canons for institutes of perfection might be entitled: 1. The principle of spirituality 2. The principle of individuality 3. The principle of subsidiarity 4. The principle of shared responsibility 5. The principle of equality CHARACTERISTICS OF THE NEW LAW FOR INSTITUTES OF PERFECTION As a result of these principles, according to the secretary (relator) of the Committee, the consultors sought to incorporate certain characteristics into the law during its formulation.6 These characteristics are noted in the following paragraphs. Respect for the Activity of the Holy Spirit All institutes of perfection come into being as a result of the love of the Holy Spirit. God inspires the founder of a community to choose a way of life which enables people to follow Christ more closely. After the institute is ap-proved by the Church, the influence of the Holy Spirit continues; and those who wish to remain faithful to their vocation must follow the way of life given to the founder under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. This is why there is such respect for the charism, vocation, genius, mission, spirit, and tradition of each institute shown in the new canons. ~See Said, "Progetto," p. 6. ~lbid., p. 7. The New Law." Principles, Content, Evaluation Respect for Suitable Autonomy As a result of the principle of ~ubsidiarity, the legislation avoids detailed and minute statements. Autonomy and diversity are promoted by allowing in-stitutes to make the necessary applications of general principles whenever possible. Respect for the Theological Element The consultors realized that they were writing laws, but they also realized that the laws were stated in the Code of Canon Law in an arid and stultifying manner. Hence they sought to give the new laws greater theological flavor, realizing that they were writing for people who were totally dedicated to the pursuit of perfect charity. Respect for Maturity In the future the particular laws of institutes of perfection will be more im-portant than the g~neral laws. Through the particular laws, the character of the institute will be formulated, and in it the specific characteristics of mission and vocation will be stated. Without doubt, an institute will require members who are mature and capable in order to compose this legislation. Moderators and members of the institutes will be given responsibilities of self-determination that will require prayer, insight, and maturity. Respect for Rights of the Church Founded upon the word and example of Christ, institutes of perfection are a gift from God to the Church, the Body of Christ. Hence the Church con-serves and guides these institutes under the direction of the Holy Spirit. All members of institutes of perfection must be committed to building up the Body of Christ, according to the vocation of each institute. People in institutes of perfection have the obligation to bring Christ to the world. Hence, this legisla-tion recalls continuously that the life of people in institutes of perfection must be lived in union with Christ. But in order to live in close union with Christ, those in institutes of perfection must be in close union with the Church. CONTENTS OF THE PROPOSED NEW LAW In this section, I shall give an outline of the proposed law, then make a few preliminary and general remarks, and finally discuss various points in the con-tents of the proposed law. Outline of the Proposed Law INSTITUTES OF PERFECTION Preliminary Canons cc. 1-6 Part I Common to Institutes of Perfection Title I Constitution, Institutes and Their Parts cc. 7-13 21~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 Title I1 Dependence of Institutes upon Ecclesiastical Authority cc. 14-24 Title III Government of Institutes of Perfection cc. 25-36 Title IV Administration of Goods cc. 37-43 Title V Admission into an Institute cc. 44 Article 1 Requirements of Candidates cc. 45-49 Article 2 Formation of Candidates cc. 50-56 Article 3 Incorpora.tion into the Institute cc. 57-64 Article 4 Formation of Members of the Institute cc. 65-67 Title VI Obligations of Institutes and Their Members cc. 68-75 Title VII Separation from an Institute Article I Transfer to another Institute cc. 76-77 Article 2 Departure from an Institute cc. 78-82 Article 3 Dismissal from an Institute cc. 83-87 Article 4 Juridical Condition of Those Separated from an Institute cc. 88-90 Part 1I Proper to Different Institutes of Perfection Preliminary Canons cc. 91-94 Title I Religious Institutes cc. 95-99 Chapter I Article I Article 2 Chapter II Article 1 Article 2 ¯ Article 3 Title II Title Ill Monastic Institutes cc. 100 Monks cc. 101-106 Nuns cc. 107-109 Religious Institutes Dedicated to Apostolic Works cc. I10- 113 Canonical Institutes cc. 114-115 Conventu.al Institutes cc. 116-117 Apostolic Institutes cc. 118-120 Institutes United for Apostolic Life cc. 121-124 Secular Institutes cc. 125-127 General Remarks on the Proposed Law In order to treat adequately and clearly the various forms of institutes dedicated to the consecrated life, the matter is divided into general and par-ticular considerations. Though some of the titles contained in the first part of the division are also contained in the Code of Canon Law, the matter is treated in an entirely new manner, and for the most part, the content is changed con-siderably. The matter in the second part of the division is entirely new. The main purpose in this section of this article will be to present a rather detailed account of the contents of the new law for institutes of perfection. Since the text is still under development, changes will be made in it before it is submitted to the episcopal conferences; and many more changes will be made in it before it is promulgated. Hence, specific statements should npt be con-sidered as final. Nonetheless, the general thrust o.f the new law can be perceived The New Law." Principles, Content, Evaluation by concentrating on what has been formulated thus far. In translating from the Latin, I have tried to be accurate rather than elegant. The text, therefore, with all its clauses and phrases may not read as smoothly as it would if originally written in English. One familiar with the Code of Canon Law will notice that many new terms are used in the new law. The main reason for these changes is the fact that religious life is no longer presented as the paradigm for all institutes of perfec-tion. Hence, more general terms had to be found which would be applicable to all institutes of perfection. Following are some of the terms used in the Code and their counterparts in the new law: Code vita religiosa = religious life religio = religious institute religiosi = religious subjecti = subjects soperiores = superiors domus = house votum = vow novitius = novice novitiatus = novitiate magister novitiorum = novice master professio = profession professio perpetua = perpetual profession professio temporaria = temporary profession New Law vita consecrata = consecrated life institutio perfectionis = institute of perfection sodales = members sodales = members moderatores = moderators sedes or coetus = house or group sacra ligamina = sacred bonds receptus or sodales nuper recepti = candidate or new members tempus probationis = canonical probation magister probationis canonicae = master of canonical probation cooptatio = incorporation cooptatio perpetua = perpetual profession cooptatio temporaria = temporary professibn Preliminary Canons The preliminary canons contain the principal elements describing and defining the consecrated life, a life devoted to a closer following of Christ through commitment to the evangelical counsels. Naturally, these preliminary can6ns are applicable to all institutes of perfection, the individual types of in-stitutes being described and defined in the second part of the tract. There are six preliminary canons. The first presents the theological elements of the con-secrated life by describing the various characteristics which constitute and specify it. It states: I. Life consecrated through the profession of the evangelical counsels is a stable form of life, by which the faithful, following Christ more closely, are dedicated totally to God loved above all, so that by a new and special title they are ordered to the honor of God, to the salvation of the world, and to the building up of the Church, seek the perfection of charity in the service of the kingdom of God, and become clear signs in the Church foretelling heavenly glory. 2. Which form of living in institutes of perfection, constituted under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and canonically erected by the competent authority of the Church, the 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 faithful freely accept, who through vows or other sacred bonds, profess to observe ac-cording to the particular laws of these institutes the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience, and who are united to the mystery of the Church in a special manner by charity, to which the counsels lead. Though the purpose of this presentation does not include analyzing the various definitions given in this tract, because of its importance, we shall schematize the theological notion of the consecrated life in the following out-line. Consecrated life: 1. is a stable form of life 2. dedicates people to God loved above all things 3. orders them by a new and special title to: a. the honor of God b. the salvation of the world c. the building up of the Church 4. enables its members to seek the perfection of charity in service of the kingdom of God and witness heavenly glory in the Church 5. is constituted by inspiration of the Holy Spirit 6. is canonically erected by competent ecclesiastical authority 7. is accepted by professing, through vows or other sacred bonds, the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience, according to the laws of particular institutes 8. unites the faithful to the mystery of the Church in a special manner through charity to which the counsels lead. The charismatic nature of the consecrated life is stated in the second preliminary canon. It affirms that the status of those in institutes of perfection, though not pertaining to the hierarchical structure of the Church, does pertain to its life and sanctity and must be held in honor by all. Both clerics and lay people may be called to this state by divine vocation and thus participate in the saving mission of the Church. The evangelical counsels, the third canon declares, are founded in the teaching and example of Christ. They are a divine gift to the Church from God and it is the duty of the Church to conserve this gift. In early versions of the revision, the right of the Church to govern institutes of perfection was spelled out here, but this power is now treated in Title I1. The fourth canon repeats the thought of Lumen gentium, no. 46, by stating that the profession of the evangelical counsels, though entailing the renuncia-tion of certain values which are to be undoubtedly esteemed, does not detract from a genuine development of human persons, but rather by its very nature is helpful to that development. Those who profess the evangelical counsels, by their consecration do not become strangers to their fellowmen or useless citizens of this earthly city, for even though they sometimes do not directly assist their contemporaries, still they help them spiritually by prayer, sacrifice, and preaching the gospel. All, however, also those who offer service to others and direct the building up of the earthly city to God, give testimony to Christ so that the Heavenly Father may be glorified in all things. The distinction between clerical and lay institutes is explained in canon five, as well as the difference between institutes of diocesan right and pontifical The New Law: Principles, Content, Evaluation right. The distinction between clerical and lay institutes is slightly different from that of canon 498, no. 4 in the Code. Clerical institutes are now defined as institutes which assume the exercise of sacred orders in their particular legisla-tion, said legislation being approved by competent authority. Institutes of pon-tifical right are erected and approved by the Holy See, while diocesan institutes have been erected by a local ordinary but not by the Holy See. The last preliminary canon declares that what is stated concerning members of in-stitutes of perfection pertains to both sexes, unless the context or nature of the case indicates otherwise. This has been called the principle of equality by the secretary of the Committee,~ but the content of the canon fails to justify this laudable title. Part I Those Things Common to Institutes of Perfection Title l The Constitution of Institutes and Their Parts This section was originally entitled, Concerning the Erection, Union, and Suppression of Institutes, Provinces, and Houses. Though the same matter is treated, the title was changed to that given above. In view of the new structures in the Church, such as the national conferences of bishops, and the application of the principle of subsidiarity, this section is changed considerably from the legislation of the Code. Diocesan institutes may be erected by local ordinaries provided the con-ference of bishops, avoiding unnecessary duplication of institutes, grants per-mission. To divide an institute into parts, to erect new parts, or to join existing parts pertains to the authority of the institutes as determined in particular law. To erect a house (sedes) or group of an institute pertains to the competent authority stated in the particular law, provided the consent of the ordinary of the place has been given in writing beforehand. Consent of the ordinary to erect a house of the institute carries with it the right to live according to the spirit, particular go~l, and particular means of the institute, to carry on the works proper to the institute, any condition contained in the permission to establish the house being observed. Moreover, clerical institutes have the right to es-tablish a church or public oratory and to carry on the sacred ministry, the com-mon law being observed. In order to change the apos.tolic purpose of a house or group, the consent of the local ordinary is required, unless it concerns the inter-nal government of discipline of the institute. Changes in institutes which affect matters determined by the Holy See require permission of the Holy See. The permission of the Holy See is also required if two or more institutes unite to form a new institute, or if they unite, one institute retaining, the other surrendering, its identity. Suppression of institutes also pertains to the Holy See which has the right to dispose of the property of the institutes. Suppression of a part of an institute, a province or a vicariate, pertains to the general chapter of the institute in accord with particular law. The supreme moderator may suppress a house, the ordinary of the place having given his consent. If 7Communicationes, 1970, p. 176. 32 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 there is difficulty, the Holy See should be consulted. Property of a suppressed house should be distributed according to particular law and justice, the inten-tion of the donors being observed. Title !! Dependence of Institutes upon Ecclesiastical Authority The revision of the Code has two sections on government; one concerns the dependence of the institute upon the Church, the other the internal government of the institute. The principle underlying the section which outlines the relationship to the Church is that an institute of perfection is constituted for the service of the whole Church. Hence, it is subject to the authority of the Church in order to insure that it achieve its own purpose and cooperate in effecting the common good. Members of institutes of perfection, therefore, are subject to the Holy Father by reason of their bond of obedience. Moreover, it pertains to competent ecclesiastical authority, led by the Holy Spirit, to moderate and interpret the practice of the evangelical counsels and to approve stable forms of life so that institutes will grow and flourish according to the spirit of the founders. The canons insist that in order to preserve their doctrinal and spiritual patrimony, institutes have autonomy of internal government and of particular legislation. The Holy See as well as the bishops must respect this autonomy. This statement is significant because it indicates that internal autonomy is a right, not a privilege nor an exemption. The possibility of exemption is mentioned in this section. Exemption, as Lumen gentium (no. 45) informs us, is the power of the Holy See to remove an institute of pe.rfection from the jurisdiction of the local ordinary and subject it to himself or another authority of the Church, in order to provide better for apostolic service and for the spiritual growth of members of the institute. Only the possibility and purpose of exemption is mentioned, no explanation being given of its meaning. Since exemption is a particular act of the Roman Pontiff, it is not fitting that it be limited through a definition of law. Institutes that are exempt carry on their apostolic life in cooperation with the local ordinary as outlined in Christus Dominus (nos. 34, 35) and Ecclesiae sanctae (1, nos. 22- 40). Thus, the new law states that houses and members of institutes are subject to episcopal authority according to the norms of law. The specific rights of local ordinaries in regard to diocesan institutes are enumerated. In respect to a diocesan institute, a local Ordinary has the right: I. to approve particular laws 2. to confirm changes in particular laws proposed by the general chapter, unless the ¯ matter pertains to the Holy See 3. to give dispensations from the particular law in single and particular (per modum ac-tus) cases 4. to visitate houses of an institute for pastoral reasons or if a particular reason warrants 5. to call members of the institute in their territory to external works of the apostolate in keeping with the purpose and slbirit of the institute, observing religious discipline and obtaining the consent of the competent moderator. The New Law." Principles, Content, Evaluation if the diocesan institute is located in more than one diocese the local ordinary of the principal house approves the particular law, other concerned ordinaries being consulted, and grants proper dispensations. If the principal house is to be moved from one diocese to another, the consent of both local ordinaries is re-quired, Institutes of pontifical right are subject immediately and exclusively to the Holy See in internal government and discipline, any laws to the contrary being observed. Members of these institutes are subject to the local ordinary in the public exercise of divine worship and the external work of the apostolate, ac-cording to the spirit, purpose, and discipline of each institute. Moreover, the local ordinary must visitate houses of pontifical right in regard to the above mentioned matters if grave reasons seem to require it. The last canon of this section calls for regular meetings between local ordinaries and moderators of institutes of perfection in order to improve and coordinate apostolic activity. Title 1II The Government of Institutes of Perfection In this section, the moderator or superiors of the institute are urged to accept and fulfill their responsibilities in a spirit of service toward the com-munity, governing more by promoting cooperation than by imposing precepts. Sufficient authority is provided, however, so that the moderators may wisely and prudently provide for the common good and the growth of individual members. Extensive use of the principle of subsidiarity makes this section of the new law much different from the law of the Code and the attitudes and customs in accord with the Code. In particular the section states the following: Moderators and chapters of institutes have authority to govern individuals and groups within the com-munity, carrying out their pastoral mission according to the particular laws of the institute. In clerical institutes, moderators have ecclesiastical jurisdiction for the internal and external forum. In exempt institutes, moderators possess a greater participation of ecclesiastical power and exercise it in accord with general and particular law. Major moderators in clerical instituti~s are called ordinaries. Moderators should follow the example and command of Christ: "Whoever is great among you, let him become the servant" (Mt 20:26). Moreover, they should recognize and promote the human and Christian dignity of the members, in regard to the exercise of authority, members should display an ac-tive obedience, both in executing and in initiating apostolic works. So that this might be achieved more harmoniously, moderators should listen to the members and consider them as collaborators in working for the good of the in-stitute and the Church. In order for one to be a moderator, whether supreme or subordinate, one must be incorporated definitively in the institute for a period of time deter-mined by particular law. The length of term for each office, which is determined by particular law, should be temporary, unless the spirit of the institute in- 34 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 dicates otherwise for the office of supreme moderator. For the good of the in-stitute and in'order to improve the quality of government and the spirituality of the members, particular law should provide that moderators do not stay in of-rice for too long a period. Hence, when they complete the time prescribed in particular law, they should not assume the office of moderator again until some years have expired. The supreme moderator of an institute should be designated by canonical election according to norms of particular law. Other major superiors are designated according to particular law, that is, they are either elected and then confirmed by the supreme moderator, or appointed but only after adequate and free consultation. Particular law should provide for the appointment or election of minor superiors. Members of the institute must follow the norms of common and particular law in all elections. Moreover, they must vote only for those whom they consider in the Lord to be more worthy of office, avoiding all abuses, especially that of procuring votes for themselves or for others. In order to improve communications, at regular intervals the supreme moderator should send a brief report on the condition and life of the institute to the Holy See. Moreover, moderators should communicate pertinent statements of the Holy See to the members in their care. Moderators should visitate, according to norms of particular law, houses and members under their care. Members should be honest with their moderators responding in truth and charity to legitimate questions. No one should hinder members from fulfilling their responsibilities. The spiritual duties of the moderator are considered carefully. Besides be-ing solicitous about their duties, moderators are to help members seek and love God, foster fraternal communion, promote the growth of the Church and the love of fellow °man, and help members draw closer to Christ through the prac-tice of the evangelical coun~eis. Frequently, they should communicate the word of God to the members, be present with them at the liturgy, stimulate them to the practice of virtue, and instruct by word and example in observance of the law and the worthwhile traditions of the institute. Moreover, let moderators help them in their personal needs, visit and care for the sick sedulously, correct the unruly, strengthen the weakhearted, and be patient to all. The thoughts of this canon, even some of the words, are taken from the Rule of St. Augustine. Moderators must have a permanent council, constituted according to par-ticular law, and must use the council in fulfilling their responsibilities. Consent or consultation is required according to common and particular law. Chapters and councils fulfill their office according to particular and common law, work-ing for the good of the institute or a particular group. In consultation and meetings discretion should be observed so that each institute may be effectively and aptly governed according to its spirit and goals. Moderators should leave the members free in regard to the direction of conscience, the particular law of the institute being observed. Unless members petition it spontaneously, moderators should not hear their confessions. The New Law: Principles, Content, Evaluation Though no one should be bound to confess to a particular priest, worthy con-fessors should be provided regularly. It is desirable that members freely and faithfully open their hearts to their moderators. Title IV Temporal Goods and Their Administration Because the administration of temporal goods in institutes of perfection is subject to the common law of the Church and also to the civil law of particular countries, this section is rather brief. In composing this,part, the Committee sought to state the principles which would foster the practice of poverty and to eliminate all requirements contained in the old law which discriminate against communities of women. The section begins with the statement that temporal goods of institutes of perfection are ecclesiastical goods and as such are Subject to the general laws concerning the patrimony of the Church, unless particular or common law states otherwise. If the particular s, pirit of an institute warrants, particular law may limit or eliminate the power of acquisition, possession, and administration of temporalgoods. Hence~ each institute should form laws which foster, protect, and express the practice, of poverty according to the spirit of the institute. Witnessing to poverty and charity, institutes should give alms and gifts when possible, particular laws being observed:. Major and minor moderators should have a treasurer, constituted accord-ing to particular law, who administrates temporal goods under their direc-tion. Particular law, following common law, should statelwhich actions exceed the goal and manner of ordinary administration. At proper times determined by particular law, administrators should give an account of their responsibility. For the validity of an alienation which exceeds the amouqt set by the episcopal conference, the consent of the Holy See is required. Title V Admission into the Institute The legislation concerning this most important topic is general, the burden for insuring proper selection and formation of candidate being put upon the in-dividual institutes. The law states that any Catholic may ibe admitted to an in-stitute of perfection who, endowed with a divine vocation, is fittingly prepared and approved by proper authority and has the qualities required by common and particular law. The rest of the title is divided into four articles, the first article concerning the preparation of those to be received. The right to admit candidates pertains to major superiors according to the norms of particular law. This responsibility should be fulfilled carefully so that only those are admitted who are of proper age, have the required health, maturity, and aptitude for the life and mission of the institute, experts being consulted to ascertain the presence of these qualities if need be. The following would be admitted invalidly to an institute: 1. those who are not yet 17 years of age 2. a .spouse who is still married 36 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 one who presently is bound by vows or other bonds in an institute of perfection one who conceals a. admission into another institute of perfection b. substantial indebtedness c. the need to render an account to legally constituted authority. Other impediments to valid admission may be stated in particular law. Before candidates are admitted they must present testimony of baptism and confirma-tion as well as the fact that they are free to enter the institute. Recent converts should not be admitted until their steadfastness is demonstrated. Particular law requires additional proof of candidates' worthiness and their freedom from impediments of particular or common law. If necessary, moderators may seek confidential information as well. Article 2 treats the formation of candidates. The purpose of the time of canonical probation,, by which the life in the institute is begun, is to enable the candidates to consider more carefully, their divine vocation, to experience life in the institute, to test and prove their commitment and worthiness, and to im-bue their hearts and mind with the spirit of the institute. The place for canonical probation may be erected, moved, and suppressed by the supreme moderator with the consent of his council. Particular law, in addition to other conditions for the validity of canonical probation, may define requisites in regard to time, provided (dummodo) the duration of canonical probation em-braces at least one continuous year. The purpose of the canonical probation requires that it be made under the direction of a master according to particular law and be adapted to the nature and goals of the institute. Many of the op-tions in regard to apostolic activity during the time of canonical probation con-tained in Renovationis causam are not contained in the new law, the institute being allowed to determine how the time of probation will be spent as long as the goals are fulfilled. Some of the innovations contained in Renovationis causam .were not thought to be successful by the Committee.8 The master of canonical probation (fgrmerly the novice master), a member definitively admitted to the institute, is design.ated according to particular law and may have assistants; but the direction of the canonical probation is the responsibility of the master under the authority of the major moderator. The formation of candidates should be under the direction of carefully selected and well-prepared members who are free from other responsibilities that would im-pede their work, most important for the institute and the good of the Church. The master and assistants should discern the vocation of (he candidates, leading them gradually to the way of perfection proper to the institute, ac-cording to the norms of particular law. The master and assistants should help the candidates develop Christian and human virtues, and educate them in the spiritual life according to the purpose, goals, spirituality, and history of the in-stitute. Other members of the institute should cooperate in formation through prayer and example. The candidates must be conscious of their responsibility 8Beyer, "De institutorum . . . novo jure," p. 200. The New Law." Principles, Content. Evaluation / 37 to cooperate actively with the master and respond to the grace of their divine vocation. In institutes which have members of different categories, the proba-tion fulfilled for one category is valid for the other, unless particular law states the contrary. Candidates may leave the institute if they wish and may be dismissed by competent authority of the institute, according to particular law. The canonical probation being completed, if the candidate is judged worthy, he or she may be admitted to the institute, otherwise she or he should be dismissed, unless there is doubt about worthiness, and then the probation may be prolonged, but not beyond six months. Article 3 is concerned with incorporation (cooptatio) into the institute. Find-ing an English word to serve as a synonym for the Latin "cooptatio" is rather difficult. A literal translation would be "election," but this does not seem to describe what happens when one professes vows or other sacred bonds in an in-stitute of perfection. The Code of Canon Law used the word "'profession" but this is a form of"cooptatio" which is proper to religious communities. Having considered many possible words, I have settled upon "'incorporation," being open to a better alternative in the future. Whatever the word, the event and process under discussion is clear; it is the action and the effects of the action by which one temporarily or permanently binds oneself through vows or other sacred bonds to follow the evangelical counsels according to the spirit and legislation of a particular institute of perfection. The canons state: No one may be incorporated into an institute, unless in the manner prescribed by particular law. Incorporation carries with it the rights and obligations defined in particular statutes, being observed under legitimate authority. Through incorporation the institute assumes the respon-sibility, under a new title, of leading the member to his goal according to the statutes of the institute. After canonical probation, incorporation should be made for a definite time, but not for less than three years or longer than nine years, unless particular law states otherwise. By temporary incorporation, members assume publicly the observance of the three evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience, made firm either by vow or some other sacred bond. Particular law may permit, however, that in temporary incor-poration of the member, in place of a vow or other sacred bonds, one may be bound to the institute by another bond, the nature of which must be defined carefully by the same particular law. Always, h6wever, the member must be so incorporated that one is held to lead one's life according to the norms of the in-stitute under the authority of the legitimate moderator. For the validity of temporary incorporation, besides the conditions set down in particular law, the following are required: a. at least 1,8 years of age completed b. completion of valid canonical probation c. judgment of worthiness made according to the requirements of par-ticular law d. admission by the competent superior. 31~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 When the time of temporary incorporation is completed, one who freely petitions and is judged worthy should be admitted to definitive incorporation; otherwise one should leave or be dismissed. However, if it seems opportune or if the member spontaneously requests, the period of temporary incorporation may be prolonged by the competent moderator, not however beyond three years. Through definitive incorporation members consecrate their lives to God by a sacred bond of its nature perpetual, and also are admitted fully into the in-stitute. For valid definitive incorporation, besides the conditions of particular law, the following are required: a. at least 21 years of age completed b. previous incorporation completed, according to canon 58 c. judgment of worthiness made according to the requirements of par-ticular law d. admission by the competent superior. Those who are incorporated are bound to live according to the norms of their institute. Article 4 provides for the formation of incorporated members of the in-stitute. The new law considers the education or formation of incorporated members as well as candidates. This article gives general notions which in-dicate the necessity, purpose, and duration of continuing education and forma-tion. The details are consigned to particular law. In every institute, after first incorporation, the formation of the members must be perfected so that they will be able to lead more fully the life of the in-stitute and carry on its mission more fittingly. Hence, particular law must define the duration and purpose of this formation, being mindful of the needs of the Church, the conditions of the times, as well as the goal and spirit of the institute. During this period of formation, members should not be assigned to offices or other work which impedes their formation. This formation, under the guidance of qualified people and accommodated to the capabilities of the members, should be doctrinal as well as practical, in accord with the needs of the institute. If possible and fitting, useful academic degrees should be ob-tained. The formation of those who are destined for sacred orders is governed by common law and the course of studies (ratio studiorum) proper to each in-stitute. Throughout their whole life, members should seek spiritual, doctrinal, and professional development, and moderators, insofar as possible, should provide the time and means to do this. Title Vi Obligations of Institutes and Their Members The principal responsibility of each institute is to understa~ld its vocation in Christ and in the Church, to preserve faithfully its particular nature according to the spirit of the founder, and to strive sedulously to achieve the goals of the community, being attentive to the signs of the times. Members should keep in The New Law: Principles, Content, Evaluation mind that they have responded to the divine call by profession of the evangelical counsels; accordingly, being more and more liberated from the things which might diminish the fervor of charity, they are bound to live solely for God and His kingdom. Members of institutes of perfection should make the following of Christ in the Gospels the supreme rule of their life. All members have the responsibility of cooperating wholeheartedly and diligently in the building up of the Body of Christ, according to the vocation of each institute. Solicitously, therefore, let them be careful so that through them the Church show forth Christ more vividly day by day. Each institute, according to its nature and proper character, should define by particular law in its own rule of life the manner in which the counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience should be observed. Each member ought not only to observe faithfully and integrally the evangelical counsels, but also order his or her life according to the statutes of the institute, and so strive for greater perfection of charity. Let the contemplation of divine things and assiduous communication with God be as daily food to people consecrated to the service of God and the Church. Avidly, therefore, members should peruse meditatively the Sacred Scriptures, participate in the celebration of the sacred liturgy, prac-tice mental and vocal prayer, make a yearly retreat, and perform other spiritual exercises according to the norms of particular law. It is earnestly recommended that members participate daily in the sacrifice of (he Mass, and according to the condition of each one, receive the sacred Body of Christ. Let them go to confession frequently according to the norms of particular law and the counsel of their spiritual director. Moreover, let the members employ other means, whether natural or supernatural, useful for fostering the spiritual life, whether common to all or proper to their own in-stitute; most especially, let them examine their conscience, visit the Blessed Sacrament, and pray to the Blessed Virgin, especially by reciting the rosary. The members, living in fraternal community rooted and founded in charity, should be an example to others of the universal reconciliation in Christ; hence let them show forth the gentleness and kindness of Christ in their life. Title VII Separation from the Institute When treating this matter, the Committee sought to simplify the process by which one departs or is dismissed from an institute of perfection. Hence, the practice of having separate processes for those in simple and solemn vows was eliminated, as well as the differences arising from exempt and non-exempt in-stitutes. Secularization and exclaustration were dropped from the new law, as well as the distinctions between apostates and fugitives. Moreover, in accord with the principles of subsidiarity, many of the decisions which were previously made by the Holy See are now made by the institute. As a result of the simplifications and in response to the needs of our times, a person who does not cooperate with the community may be dismissed more easily than in the legislation contained in the Code. Hence, the rights of the institute are 40 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 protected more readily than they were under the legislation of the Code which gave greater protection to the individual religious. Article I Transfer to Another Institute One may not transfer from one's own institute of perfection to another un-less one has the consent of each supreme moderator and the deliberative vote of each council. Particular law should define the time and manner of proba-tion, which having been fulfilled, the member may be admitted to a new incor-poration according to the statutes. One who has been definitively incorporated before transfer, after completing.probation is definitively incorporated into the new institute; one who was not definitively incorporated assumes temporary bonds, lasting for at least three years. Until the new incorporation, the sacred bonds remaining, the particular rights and obligations that the member had in the previous institute remain suspended; when the new probation begins, however, the member is bound by the statutes of the new institute. If one is not admitted to incorporation or refuses it, one must return to the original institute unless he or she obtains a dispensation from bonds or the preceding time of incorporation has already ex-pired. Through incorporation, a member is joined to the new institute, the sacred bonds, rights, and obligations of the original institute ceasing. Article 2 Departure from an Institute The supreme moderator, having heard his council, for a grave cause may concede to a member definitively incorporated into the institute that he or she may live outside the institute, and, though still under sacred bonds, be free from obligations which cannot be reconciled with the new condition of life, but not for more than three years. A member in this state remains under the care of the superiors; however, he or she lacks active and passive voice. One who completes the time of temporary incorporation may leave the in-stitute if he so wishes. A member who during the time of temporary incorpora-tion for a grave cause petitions to leave the institute may be given an indult to depart definitively by the supreme moderator with the consent of his council. A definitively incorporated member who for most grave reasons considered before the Lord petitions an indult to depart from the institute may obtain it from the supreme moderator. In order to validly concede this induit, the supreme moderator needs the consent of his council, which for this case must consist of at least five members. Hence, if ordinary councilors are absent or lacking, others should be called according to the norms of particular law. Voting for this consent should be done secretly. An induit to depart from the institute, accepted in writing by the member, carries with it ipso iure a dispen-sation from vows or other sacred bonds and from all other obligations which arise from incorporation. A member who removes himself from the prescribed community life or from the jurisdiction of the moderator should be solicitously sought and helped by the moderators so that he might persevere in his vocation. However, if The New Law: Principles, Content, Evaluation within the time determined in particular law, but never less than three months, two warnings have proved useless, or the member does not return, he may be dismissed from the institute by a decree of the supreme moderator with the consent of his council. Article 3 Dismissal from an Institute A member, the time of temporary incorporation having expired, may be dismissed by the competent moderator if there are just and reasonable causes either on the part of the institute or the part of the candidate. Observing justice and charity, physical or mental infirmity, even if contracted after incorpora-tion, constitutes a just cause for dismissing one whose temporary incorporation has expired, provided the judgment of experts states that the member cannot lead the life of the institute without doing damage to himself or to the institute. Members temporarily incorporated may be dismissed by the supreme moderator of the institute with the consent of his council, respecting particular law. In order to carry out such a dismissal, it is required: a. that the cause of dismissal, either on the part of the institute or on the part of the member, is grave though it need not involve culpability b. that if the cause is culpable, warning were given in writing and proved useless c. that dismissal is not because of ill heait~ unless it was maliciously kept secret before incorporation, or unless the judgment of experts urges the dismissal in order to avoid injury to the member or the institute. The causes for dismissal should be manifested to the member in writing, full liberty to respond being granted. The response of the member, which ought also to be in writing, should be submitted to the supreme moderator and his council. Members definitively incorporated may be dismissed by a decree of the supreme moderator with the consent of the council, observing the norms of general and particular law. In order to carry out such a dismissal, it is required: a. that the causes of dismissal are grave, culpable, and juridically sound b. that before ~the dismissal, two canonical warnings which threatened dis-missal if not observed, have proved useless c. the causes of the dismissal were communicated to the member, and full liberty of defense was given after each warning. The responses of the member, given in writing, should be included in the acts which are submitted to the supreme moderator and his council for examina-tion. The supreme moderator with the consent of his council may dismiss im-mediately a member: a. who publicly professes apostasy, heresy or schism b. who attempts or contracts matrimony, even if only civil 42 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 c. who culpably was the cause of serious and most grave exterior scandal or injury to the institute. The decree of dismissal must be communicated as soon as possible to the member who has the right of appealing to the Holy See within ten days, with suspensive effect. When a member is dismissed legitimately, ipso facto all bonds, rights, and obligations coming from incorporation also cease. Article 4 Juridical Condition of Those Separated from Institute A member in sacred orders, dismissed from or having legitimately departed from his institute, in order to exercise the sacred ministry, must be accepted ac-cording to law by his own or another diocesan bishop. An institute, in a spirit of equity and gospel charity, should show proper concern for former members. In the report that is made to the Holy See, mention should be made concerning members who have been separated from the institute in any way whatsoever. Part II Things Proper to Different Institutes of Perfection In this section the different kinds of institutes of perfection and their par-ticular characteristics are considered. The foundation of the distinction between these various types of institutes is the manner of apostolate carried on by each one. In order to compose and divide this part, the Committee had to consider intently the theology of the states of perfection and the constitutive elements of the various types of institutes. The content and the theoretical and practical considerations that underlie this section of the new law have been ex-plained clearly and thoroughly by the secretary of the Committee, Mark Said, O.P., in the recent issues of Communicationes) Part II begins with four preliminary canons which apply to each kind of in-stitute. The first three canons contain the principles formulated by Vatican Council II for the vitality and renewal of religious life, and the last canon in the group confirms the eremitical life as a valid form of evangelical perfection. The canons state: There are many institutes of perfection in the Church, displaying various charisms of the Spirit and having different gifts according to the grace which has been given them. These institutes follow Christ more closely either by prayer, by active works which benefit mankind, or by communicating with people in the world. Therefore, given these differences from the Holy Spirit, the mind of the founders and their proposals concerning the nature, purpose, and character of the institute, as well as its sound traditions, must be followed by all. Norms which concern the basic elements, that is, the mind of the founder and proposals concerning the nature, purpose, and sound traditions of the in-stitute, are to be placed in the principal lawbook of each institute, whatever that book might be called; and just as these norms must be approved by the competent authority in the Church, so they may not be changed without per-aCommunicationes, 1973, pp. 63 ff.; 1974, pp. 73 ft. The New Law: Principles, Content, Evaluation / 43 mission from the same authority. Other norms, concerning life, government, and discipline, are ratified and gathered together by the competent authority of each institute, which authority, however, may change and adapt them accord-ing to particular law. In composing these texts, the spiritual and juridical should be combined, and norms should not be multiplied without reason. Though the wording here is not as clear as it might be, the meaning is ap-prehended easily. Basically, these laws repeat the distinction of Ecclesiae sanc-tae concerning constitutions, which are more general and permanent, and directives, which are concerned with changeable and less important items?° This distinction will be familiar to religious who have taken part in general chapters over the past few years. In addition to institutes of perfection, the Church recognizes the eremitical or anchoritic life by which the faithful, withdrawing more strictly from the world, consecrate their lives to the praise of God and salvation of the world through the silence of solitude and by assiduous prayer and penance. An anchorite, recognized in law as a religious, is one who professes under vow the three evangelical counsels and follows a definite rule of life under the guidance of a competent religious superior or local ordinary. Title 1 Religious Institutes These canons contain the essential and integral elements of the form of consecration known as the religious life. For most people, this type of institute of perfection is the most commonly encountered. The laws state: In each religious institute, the members must assume the responsibili!y of the three evangelical counsels, this responsibility being strengthened by public vows, at least at the time of definitive profession, and they must lead a common life ac-cording to the norms of particular law. The public witness which should be rendered to Christ and to the Church by these institutes involves separation from the world according to the spirit and purpose of each institute, as well as use of a fitting habit prescribed by particular law as a sign of the consecrated life. The profession of chastity for the kingdom of God carries with it the obser-vance of celibacy as well as perfect continence by which love of God and of all men is increased and manifested. The profession of poverty for the following of Christ involves, besides a life of work and simplicity, total dependence in the use and disposition of goods, and at least the cession of the administration of one's proper patrimony. Unless one makes a renunciation of patrimony already acquired or to be ac-quired according to the norms of particular law, members are held to make a will, and in view of future profession, to dispose freely of the use and usufruct of their goods. Whatever is acquired by members of the institute through their own work, stipend, or pension, belongs to the institute. The profession of obedience in imitation of Christ carries with it total ~°lbid., 1970, pp. 12-4. 44 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/1 dedication to the will of God through submission to moderators taking the place of God, offered in a spirit of faith and love according to the regulations of law. Religious should live in community in a house legally constituted, which house may have its own church or oratory in which the Eucharist is celebrated and reserved so that it is the true center of the community. Chapter I Monastic Institutes Monastic institutes are religious institutes whose members, according to the particular traditions of each institute, lead an anchoritic or coenobitic life by conversion to God through prayer and labor so that through apostolic charity and the contemplation of divine things they seek only God and His kingdom. This chapter then considers first monks and afterwards considers nuns. The principle responsibility of monks is to offer humble and noble service to the divine Master within the confines (septa) of the monastery. Monastic in-stitutes which are ordered totally to contemplation remain always a lustrous part of the Mystical Body of Christ and speak of the richness of treasures in the Church; hence, even though the need for active apostolic work is great, let them remain firmly in their state of life. Institutes, however, which would assume some legitimate apostolate or work of Christian charity, should pursue only those things which are consonant with the spirit of monastic life. Monastic institutes, per se, are neither clerical nor lay. A religious house of monks, under the care and government of a proper moderator, is called a monastery, and of itself is an independent entity, particular laws being observed. The moderator of an independent monastery, who is usually called an abbot, is by right a major moderator. Monasteries of the same monastic families may be united in federations, and these federations may be united in confederations, with the permission of the Holy See. Each federation or con-federation is governed by its own law, the autonomy of each monastery, however, being preserved. Each institute should state in its particular law the norms for the monastic and priestly formation of its members. Transfer from one monastery to another of the same family or the same rule may be made with the consent of both moderators and the deliberative vote of the chapter of the receiving monastery, particular law being observed. If one transfers, monastic profession is not repeated, unless particular law states otherwise. Other forms of transfer are governed by common law. Nuns, a more noble part of the flock of Christ, legally are those women who are dedicated primar, jly to a life of contemplation. Those things that are stated concerning monks apply to nuns as well. Monasteries of nuns affiliated with an institute of men receive their way of life and government from the statutes of these institutes. It is fitting, moreover, that they be helped in pur-suing their proper vocation by spiritual care of the institute to which they are affiliated. The papal cloister, which uniquely disposes for contemplative life, The New Law." Principles, Content, Evaluation / should be observed in monast erles of nuns. Statutes concerning the papal cloister in particular law are t~o be approved by the Holy See. Other .I monasteries should observe a cloister that is accommodated to their particular spirit and defined in particular lalw. I Chapter II Religious Institutes~Dedicated to Apostolic Works In institutes dedicated to apostolic works, apostolic activity pertains to their very nature Hence, the whole~ life of the members should be imbued with apostolic spirit, ~nd the total apostolic activity should be informed by the spirit of the instttute. Apostohc act~vtty should always proceed from an intimate union with God and should nourish and confirm this union. Apostolic activity, exercised in the name of and un[ler the guidance of the Church, should be I carried on in ecclesiai commumo,n. Works proper to the institutes should be retained faithfully though adapted to the needs of the times and places, using new and opportune methods" Members of institutes dedicated to apostolic works, by reason of their very vocation, are bound to help bishops and work for the good of the Church under the direction of their own moderators. Bishops and moderators, either alone or in groups, should take common coIunsel in planning the works of the apostolate that will be carried on by the members. Institutes have the right to carry on their proper works, the requirements of law being observed. When opportune, bishops and moderators should e~nter particular agreements for ordering and improving collaboration. In three successive articles theI proposed canons then treat of three kinds of institutes: canonical institutes, conventual institutes, and apostolic institutes. Canonical institutes offer d~wne praise, especially through solemn worship, and they carry on apostolic works[ especially by exercising the priestly ministry in parishes. In order to foster r~gular life, parishes should be committed to them which are close together or close to the principal house. Many indepen-dent chapters of regular canons~ may be brought together under the same leadership; many institutes of the same canonical type may be confederated under an abbot primate with th~ permission of the Holy See. Conventual institutes intimately join the apostolic life with divine praise and regular observance, and they also offer the particular witness of an austere life. Members live a fraternal iif~ in common, especially in the celebration of the Eucharist and the Liturgy of ihe Hours, an