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

Issue 27.2 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; 193 208 223 243. 281 289 THE DEATH oF°.ATHEISM- . Rene H. Chabot,~ M.S. FUNCTIONAL APPROACH TO SILE_NCE: .°- Sister Joann Ottenstmer.i P ~ V.M "° ~ INDWELLING: TRANSFIGURING CONSUMMATION~" Thoma~ Dubay, S.M. ~. CLOISTER AND TH'E APOSTOLATE OF R~ELIGIOUS. WOMEN James R. Cain. ~ ~ CELEBRATION~OF THE PASCHAL~MYSTERY: THE:EUCHARIST Christopher Kiesling. O~P. ~. DIFFERENCES BETWEEN PONTIFICAL:-AND DIO.CESAN CON: GREGATIONS Joseph F. Gallen; S.J. -~ 308 MORE ON PRAYER Waltero~l. Paulits. F.S.C. 316 OUR LADY, CAUSEWAY Albert J. Hebert. S.M. 317 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS 321 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS 329 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS. 344 BOOK REVIEWS EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWEKS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIaIOUS; Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Galien, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9xo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial otfices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 559 North Grand Boulevard ; Saint Louts, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1968 by REVIEW FOR RELmlOUS at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland. Single copies: $1.00. 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Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. MARCH I968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 2 RENE H. CHABOT, M.S. The Death- of Atheism THE WOUNDED HERO--MAN It is a diffichlt--perhaps even impossible--task to clearly understand the total human situation of man if one abstracts from God's saving and healing redemp-tion. The reason for this lies in the fact that man--the wounded hero--has never been left to himself, not even for one moment, without God's redeeming love reach-ing him, though at times in a most hidden manner. There was never a single moment in the history of fallen man when he was not in the hands and care of the Healer of all wounds. However, just as a sick person, convalescing from his illness with the help of medicine and doctors, precisely because he is in the process of re-covering and, therefore, not yet in possession of his former health, continues to manifest the nature of his illness thereby making it possible for his doctor to con-jecture what his situation might have been without the medical help he is now receiving, so too, man, because he is not yet fully redeemed and is still in the process of recovering, enables one to discover, or at least surmise, the depth and seriousness of his original illness. Though our fallen hero has never been without the soothing effect of God's healing love, his wounds are clearly visi-ble and one can conjecture what his situation (without any help from the outside)might have been. Such a ~onjecture of man's situation after the fall, abstracting from God's healing grace, will be expounded in the words that follow. An explanation will also be offered why, given such a situation, man finds it diffi-cult to believe in the existence of God, and, at times,' even rejects the possibility. Understanding the situation of our wounded hero will enable one to see better why he rejects, pure love and will also give one a greater comprehension of Christ's mission and, therefore, the mission of the Church--to make God credible to [allen humanity. + Father Rene H. Chabot, M.S., is a member of the La Salette Fathers; La Salette Shrine; At-fleboro,~ Massachu-setts 02703. VOLUME 27, 1968 , REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Wound Although possessing an "exalted dignity, since he stands above all things," as was so strongly emphasized in the Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, man has been severely bruised and deeply wounded. Fallen man is indeed a very sick man. This sickness can best be described as a deep-seated self-centeredness. Fallen man is profoundly inclined to selfishness. True love--the love for an other for himself, or, as other-- does not come to him naturally. When he loves, he easily makes himself the object of his love; thus the other is loved for what the one loving can obtain and is, there-fore, not loved but "used." Such easy-coming self-centered-hess is, undoubtedly, the most basic and lasting effect of man's original mistake--a mistake which was de-. cidedly a refusal to turn toward the Other and others as such in preference for a total turning to self. "Man set himself against God and sought to attain his goal apart from God. Although they knew God, they did not glor-ify Him as God, but their senseless minds were darkened and they served the creature rather than the Creator" (The Church in the Modern World, n. 12). The whole of mankind suffered a traumatic experience from this original turning to self. Even with Christ's healing power at work from the very first moment of need, the wound of fallen man is still easily recognizable. True love does not come naturally to man. Few people have learned to love totally and without reserve. Such a love is indeed the rarest and the most difficult of human achievements. Those who have achieved this love are very much aware of the constant and at times crucifying purification which necessarily preceded it. They are also aware that they could not have achieved this love by themselves without the help from someone else. Because of his wound, fallen man finds it natural to turn inward to-wards self and away from the other. Our wounded hero, alongside with his basic greatness and dignity, is "nat-urally" selfish. "Indeed, man finds that by himself he is incapable of battling the assaults of evil successfully, so that everyone feels as though he is bound by chains ¯. Sin has diminished man, blocking his path to fulfill-ment" (The Church in the Modern World, n. 13). Attitudes Which Result from Man's Wound Certain attitudes emerge from this basic and congeni-tal self-centeredness of man which, if left alone and un-controlled, may ultimately lead him to reject the real God and/or create his own. These attitudes are indeed very deeply etched in man's psyche. God's redeeming love has to some extent, and, in some rare cases, al- most totally, corrected them. However, in those instances where they are the rule rather than the exception, these attitudes clearly show how far they could lead man with-out the redeeming love of Christ. These attitudes are intimately linked with and the direct result of man's basic wound of selfishness and self-centeredness. They, in turn, as previously stated, tend to have man reject the one person who could heal him completely, thereby creating a kind of vicious circle. It is of extreme importance that one understand the situa-tion of fallen man in order to grasp why and how these attitudes stem from his own basic selfishness and, as a consequence, tend to have him reject the one true God. Such an understanding will place one in a more favor-able position to recognize the many forms of atheism in the modern world and why it exists in the first place. It will also give one a clearer vision--a deeper insight-~of Christ's mission as the physician of fallen man (see the Constitution on the Liturgy, n. 5). The Council fathers have recognized the seriousness of atheism in the modern world: "Many of our contemporaries have never recog-nized this intimate and vital link with God, or have ex-plicitly rejected it. Thus atheism must be accounted among the most serious problems of this age, and is de-serving of closer examination" (The Church in the Mod-ern World, n. 19). In order to prescribe the proper medi-cine capable of. healing a particular illness one must recognize the symptoms. Why is it that fallen man tends to reject God? How can we who are the prolongation of Christ the physician continue His mission of making God credible to the modern world i£ we do not first understand why and how He is rejected by man? A knowledge of the natural consequences of man's selfish-ness is of primary importance if one is to extend in his own life the healing influence which Christ personally brought to the world and which He now wants to bring to this world through His Church of today. Suspicious of True Love in t.he Other Normally, there are many subjective aspects in our evaluations--the way we think and feel does undoubt-edly condition and influence our decisions and judg-ments. (This, of course, does not mean that one cannot be objective in his judgment. After all, subjective and objective are not to be considered as either-or opposites.) However, personal attitudes and feelings should be, as far as is possible, in accord with the objective truth; otherwise, there will arise a great disparity between sub-jective and objective. If, for example, due to his narrow and biased up-bringing, a Person does not feel attracted to negroes, Death of Atheism VOLUME 27, 1968 19.~ M.~. REV]EW FOR RELIGIOUS ]96 perhaps even harboring antipathy towards them, he will, most likely, disassociate himself with them. His subjective attitude, in this case, will have completely overshadowed the objective truth. Fallen man, observing that others live in somewhat similar situations as he, has a tendency to identify the evaluations and judgments of others with his own. If, for example, he is not at-tracted to the negro, he will, more often than not, be-lieve that other white people in his particular town, city, or country feel the same with reference to the negro. If reality shows him that there are some people who, although they are of the same color and live in the same vicinity as he, are in fact willing to associate with the negro, he will then question the genuineness of this as-sociation. He Will immediately look for ulterior motives, knowing that these motives would be the primary tea- ¯ son for his own association with the negro. Let us apply the above to the .situation of our wounded hero: Due to his deep wound caused by his original Fall, man very easily and "natur.ally" experiences himself as selfish and self-centered. In other words, man experi-ences his own sickness even if, most of the time, he does not consciously consider it as a wound which should not be thei~e. As a result, he projects to others the same kind of basic selfishness which he finds in himself. His thoughts of the other are most likely--"He must be as selfish as I he's out to get what he can from people--I don't trust him, he undoubtedly wants to use me." Fallen man arrives at this conclusion about the other even before meeting him. The other will have been judged as basically selfish and, therefore, not truly capa-ble of loving, for the simple reason that he has been judged according to the experience of the one judging. Add to this man's actual experience of meeting the other. His original projection is substantiated; the other is indeed selfish---he, too, is a wounded hero seeking in all things and in all people his own perfection and self-aggrandizement. Encounter for him is also a meeting of self and not of other~ Such experiences will naturally strengthen man in his conviction that true lovemthe love that seeks only the other for his own sake expecting nothing in return-- cannot possibly exist. This conviction is the result of his own life experiences and not based on any kind of abstract' or speculative 'thinking on his part. Fallen man :does not easily believe in goodness because he has not and does not experience it. It is hard for him to accept as real that. which, he does ,,not personally experience either in himself or in others whom he meets. ~Even with Christ's healing love at work, this unbeliev-ing~ attitude is still ,very" evident. People are so easily suspicious of the kindness of others. Their first reaction to this kindness, interiorly at least, could very well be: "Now what does he want--what's he up to?" If these questions are left unanswered, unbelief continues to sur-vive because they conclude that the ulterior motives prompting the act of kindness are of the type which are not immediately visible. Because he has been seriously wounded and has not yet been fully redeemed, man has difficulty in accepting the reality of true love. Though the doctor has come and has to some extent ar-rested the sickness, man continues to experience the ef-fect of his original wound because he has not completely recovered, Fearful of Being Loved There is yet another consequential attitude which the wounded hero develops from his experience of self-cen-teredness and that is the fear, at times even a deadly fear, of being loved.~To fallen man, self-sufficiency is identified with being, being free. This is but another aspect of his self-centeredness. Consequently, his search for fullness of being is identified with his search for self and total sufficiency. Identifying fullness of being with independence, he automatically rejects that which would call for dependence, that is, pure love. He is so fearful of love that at times even prior to his experiencing it, through a process of rationalization, he will go so far as to deny its possibility, and, therefore, its existence. One can easily refuse to acknowledge that which threatens his very existence. The sorrowful side of this situation is that fallen man, left alone without the healing love of God, cannot change his false identification of being and freedom with self-sufficiency. There is so little true love around him that he cannot experience the healthy kind of dependence which comes from being loved by another. Only the experience of true love is capable of erasing these erroneous attitudes from his mind and replacing them with a healthy outlook towards God and man alike. As his former attitude towards love is a result of a per-sonal experience, so also his new attitude will come only as a result of experienci,hg a new and different love, a love which, while creating [a certain dependence, is ca-pable of and necessary for bringing him to his greatest freedom and fulfillment. Without this new attitude, man rejects love because of his fear of it, fearing it because he identifies it with losing his freedom and being. As mentioned previously, this false identification is rooted in his experience of himself as a self-seeking individual. Even with the presence of God's healing grace, evi-dence of this fear of being loved is constantly present. We are afraid to be loved. If, for example, someone Death of A tlt~sm VOLUME 27, 1968 197 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 198 loves us and chooses to express his love with a gift, do we not often feel obliged to return this favor by another favor? A sincere "thank you" appears to be too little, but "another favor" would at least reach the level of "equal." To simply say "thank you" is in fact admitting and accepting to be dependent on someone else: it is accepting the dependence of love. By returning the favor we seem to become free again--we are no longer obliged. Such a manner of behaving clearly demon-strates that our sickness is a lingering one and we are still on the rugged road of recovery. The symptoms of the illness are still very visible. Naturally, one should love the one who loves him but should not feel obliged to return his gift with another. If he returns the favor only to relieve the feeling of obligation, he is not truly loving the one who first loved him, but loving himself in that he is actually seeking his own inde-pendence and welfare--seeking it in a way, however, which will not give it to him, but, on the contrary, will make him a slave of his own desires. The Rejection of God From what has already been said, it seems rather evident that our wounded hero's attitudes and feelings toward God have been profoundly conditioned and in-fluenced by the traumatic experience of his original act of selbcenteredness, the effects of which experience live on in each of us. Fallen man normally tends to reject the reality of an all-loving God who seeks nothing for Himself in loving man but loves man for his own sake. This rejection stems from the fact that he does not experience in and around himself the reality of goodness or of true love. His unbelief is further nurtured by the failure of the world in which he lives to make God credible to him in an existential way--notwith-standing, of course, the intellectual and more abstract capacities to prove the existence of God. The existence of such a God is not easily accepted by man because pure love seems to be in direct opposition to his daily personal experiences. He will often accept and believe in a god or in God, but not primarily in a God who is known and accepted first and foremost as a loving God. Man will accept more readily ~i just God, a jealous God, a vengeful God, but not so readily a loving God. Our fallen hero simply cannot naturally accept the reality of such a God. Existentially speaking, then, such a God is not credible to fallen mankind. Due to his innate fear of being loved, the wounded hero shies away from such a God, for to encounter Him and accept to be loved by Him is tantamount to a complete giving up of one's life--remembering al- ways that life to him is synonymous with independence. To accept to be loved by God is to accept also total dependence. Fallen man cannot naturally accept such dependence without at the same time--in his way of feeling and thinking--losing his own freedom and ful-fillment. The true image of God thereby becomes a threat to fallen man. To offset this threat, man will either reject Him completely in militant atheism, simply ignore Him, or diminish the threat by emphasizing the justice of God and so forth, and not His total and absolutely pure love. If man were to accept consciously and without fear the total dependency on God's pure love, he would no longer be a wounded man but a fully recovered patient. However, our thoughts are presently concerned with the wounded man who, as a result of his condition, will readily deny the existence of a pure all-loving God, or, if he does accept the existence of God, will feel obliged to do something in return. He will offer sacrifices to God to "make up" for all that God has done. This can be a very subde form of rejecting dependency on an all-loving God. Love for God should not be motivated by a sort 0f favor-for-favor kind of attitude. Such an attitude transmits one's hidden de-sire to remain free of God, to remain independent of Him. It is an indirect rejection of the reality of an all-loving God. Fallen man--self-centered as a result of his wound-- is perfectly conditioned to reject a priori the reality of a loving God. His wound is so penetrating that it clouds his vision and prevents him from seeing at an existential level the God of love. Yet, if he is to be healed, if he is to regain that health which was his at the beginning, man must believe in such a God and center his whole life on Him. The situation of fallen man does seem to be an impossible one---one from which he must be extracted if he is to ever recover. He must have help to accomplish that which he cannot be alone and that help can only .come from the God whom he so easily denies. Only He who is pure love fully realizes man's predicament and undertakes to make Himself credible to His unbelieving creature--to this man who is seemingly so perfectly conditioned never to believe in Him. Thus we enter into the realm of Christ's salvific mission. THE HUMAN EXPERIENCE OF GOD THROUGH CHRIST Christ is the sacrament of God, or, as St. Augustine wrote: "There is no other mystery of God than Jesus Christ." Here, the word "mystery" is equivalent to'sac-rament or sign. Therefore, Christ's mission is basically .!- + VOLUME 27, 1968 ]99 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 20O that o[ being a witness. But what is a witness? W~nat are the exigencies proper to being a witness? Two things immediately come to mind: (1) That which is to be witnessed or signified It is not enough simply to be a witness. One could be a witness o[ stupidity or of selfishness--the world is not in need of such wit-nesses. Because Christ isa sacrament, His whole life was meant to be a sign, but a sign of what? True, He was a sign of God, but most particularly under what aspect? One must be aware of what Christ exactly in-tended to witness. (2) For whom is the signification meant?--The very word "witness" implies that someone is present to observe the sign given. One is a witness to someone, therefore, to people who live in very par-ticular situations and circumstances. For one to be a true witness, he must be understood by the people to whom he is a witness. He must know them and so arrange his sign that they are capable of "reading" him. He must do this in such a fashion that, even i£ they do not immediately "read" him, they will at least stop, listen, and ultimately either accept or reject that which he is witnessing. If Christ is the sacrament, it is important that one consider the persons to whom He is a witness. Christ, the Sacrament of Love Christ's mission was to reveal to the world the reality of love. Here, "to reveal" means more than making God's love known by a purely intellectual didactic teach-ing of His love. Christ gave to the whole world, but first and foremost to those around Him, to those with whom He lived, to those who could see Him, touch Him--in a word---to tho~e who could experience Him, a personal encounter with love, an encounter with some-one who loves totally---one who is comple~61y selfless and in no way whatever seeks anything for himself. Christ's role was to make the God of love credible to those people who were able to directly experience Him. We have seen how fallen man was naturally suspicious of the mere possibility of true love and fearful at the same time of being loved. It is only by experiencing pure love, that is, by meeting, on an existential level, true love, that one can rediscover his belief in a God of love. Certain attitudes and fears can only be over-come by personally experiencing the contrary of these attitudes and fears. Christ gave those around Him the opportunity to meet pure and total love. The sacra-ment of love came precisely to make God credible to all who met Him by living a life o[ total and dedicated selfless love. Christ the Sacrament for the Wounded Hero Christ's mission was not only to witness love, but to witness it in such a way that fallen humanity could understand and read Him. The human situation of man, as mentioned before, is quite unique. Our wounded hero is not neutral in reference to the possibility of love--he is not open as far as believing in the existence of love. The scars of his wound have left him piejudiced to the contrary. If one wishes totruly grasp Christ's witnessing of true ,love, it is .necessary that he first understand the situation of fallen humanity. Christ did not witness the love of His Father as in a vacuum, but to people living in a very particular situation--He witnessed to fallen humanity. In another situation~ne where man had not experienced the deadly wound of selfishness--he undoubtedly Would have been more open to the reality of God, and, consequently, would have more easily recognized true love. That which might have been a clear sign of love in another situation was not in fact a clear sign of selflessness to the existential and historical man. Christ's witnessing of His Father's love, therefore, must be understood in the context of the historical [allen man. The sacramental value of Christ's life was for man as he existedmnot for man as he might have existed, as he existed before the fall, or for man as he will exist after the completion of the redemption. Too often we disassociate Christ's sacra-mental life from the existential reality of fallen man-kind. This often happens at the level of the Church and religious life. It is not enough to speak of the Church and of religious life as signs. The sacramental value of both must be related to the reality of the world of the here ~nd now. Is the Church and religious life a sign to this world, a sign that this world can read? What might have been a valid and true sign in the past might no longer be understood today. If such is the case, both the Church and religious must learn more about the world in which they live in order that they may be a more living witness to the world of today. Of what value are they as witness if the world, because of its attitudes, cannot read them? God, in sending His only Son to witness to the world the reality of His love, took into account the existential reality of man. His sacrament (Christ) was commensurate with man as he is, not as he was, will be, or might have been. The Signs of Selfless Love To a world which leans towards attributing ulterior motives to every act of kindness, which experiences selfishness in loving or in being loved, there could be ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 27, 1968 20! ÷ Rene H. Chabo~ M.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS no greater testimony of real love than the love which seeks only to give--receiving nothing and expecting nothing in the very act of loving. Such a witnessing of love by Christ necessarily had to take on some very particular modalities due to the special circumstances in which fallen man found himself. Christ, therefore, chose to love and actually receive nothing in return. Such a .love shocks the unbeliever, but he cannot deny the personal experience he has in meeting such a love. As much as he might try, he cannot see any possible ulterior motives in such a love. This explains "why Christ,' in loving the world, chose to receive nothing in return, thereby giving the world the experience of a selfless love. It was the actual self-emptying of Christ in the act of loving which gave the experience of love to those who knew and met Him. A love which had not been expressed by such a self-emptying could not have carried this world to God. A world which was so deeply egocentric could not have been led to a God of pure love without the visible witnessing of a self-emptying love. Christ was that wit-ness. Christ gave to those who experienced Him loving "to the end" a personal encounter with a selfless God, an encounter with the God of love. It is only in the context of a self-emptying love--which love was neces-sitated by the actual situation of fallen man--that one can appreciate those aspects of His life which are given particular emphasis: (1) His extraordinary preoccupa-tion for the poor; (2) His martyrdom; and (3) His virginity. Christ and the Poor "Blessed are the poor." Christ, of course, loved all men, rich and poor alike; He died for all men, the haves and the have-nots. But first and foremost he wanted to be identified with the Poo~. Why did He choose to be so identified? In order that the purity of His love--God's love--might be more visible to fallen man. The poor could not give Him anything in return, they could not visibly recompense Him for His care and solicitude. In other words, through His identifica-tion with the Poor He could more easily witness to the poor and rich alike that He had not come to love only those who could receive Him well, who could discuss intellectual issues and world problems with Him, or who could entertain Him. His mission as witness was to show the world that pure love is a reality--that God is a reality and that He had not come for what the world could give Him. He came only to give---only to love. His identification with the needy, both the physical and spiritual, was indeed a most beautiful emptying o~ self. It is significant to note that such a preoccupation for the poor was a sign to both the rich and the poor. Christ thereby witnessed to the rich that He loved them in themselves, purely, that is, and not for what they could give Him. If Christ had identified Himself first and foremost with the rich, the powerful, the influential, He would not have been able to give the fallen world, with its selfish attitude and suspicion of the mere possibility of true love, a clear testimony of divine love. The existential circumstances of those to whom one desires to witness must always be considei:ed; other-wise, the witness stands alone and that which he is a sign of remains forever hidden. The Death o[ Christ Christ's witnessing of His Father's lov~ was necessarily conditioned by the historical situation of fallen hu-manity. A true sign or witness is the one which can be understood by a particular person living in par-ticular circumstances. Fallen man is basically suspicious of the reality of love; thus, to him, the ultimate proof of love is to visibly see one who not only receives nothing in the act of love, but actually loses what is his by birth--his life. There is no greater expression of love to a man who, because of his deep attitudes and experiences, doubts that love is possible. Christ's death was precisely that unique testimony of love; it was indeed the greatest manifestation of God. Those who personally experienced Christ and His giving of His life for others experienced true love, thereby experienc-ing also the God who is pure love. By making love credible to man, Christ made God credible. This was the total self-emptying of the Son of Man. It is no wonder., that "the Church then considers martyrdom as an exceptional gift and as the fullest proof of love." Christ's death, therefore, was the fullest and strongest rebuttal to fallen man's suspicious attitude about God. It was that which could, more than any other proof offered, counteract his natural (natural, be-cause of his sin) tendency to universalize selfishness to the extent of denying the very existence of God. In His death, Christ became the clearest proof of the existence of God. Christ, the Virgin It is in the same context of witnessing true love to fallen humanity that one can understand and appreciate the meaning of Christ's virginity. As already empha-sized, the greatest proof of tota! and unselfish love is that one be not only willing but does in fact give his life (in the sense of losing it) in the very act of loving 4- 4. .4" Death oy Atheism VOLUME 27, 196S 203 ÷ ÷ ÷ Rene H. Chabot, M.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the other. This is even great~er than receiving nothing in return. After one's own life, the next greatest emptying of self---the next greates.t sign of lovemis to love and not receive the highest good after self--the "other self," namely, a spouse and children. The greatest sign of . love after martyrdom, then, is that of virginity. Christ's virginity was to fallen man an .added proof of God. As in the case of martyrdom, Christ's virginity was a sign of true love only because He valued the goods of marriage very highly. A so-called martyr who does not value his own life is not a true witness of love. So, too, the virgin who does not highly value the goods which he has sacrificed is not a true witness of. God and not a true virgin for the kingdom of heaven. THE EXl'E~ENCE OF GOD IN AND THROUGH THE CHURCH The whole of Christ's life--but especially His martyr-dom, virginity, and poverty--was, to a world steeped in its own self-centeredness, a living proof of the reality of love. Christ's life was to those who knew Him personally--the first Christian communityma reality which they personally experienced. Such an experience counteracted their natural suspicion of the reality of goodness and thereby made the God of pure love credi-ble to them. But what about all the future generations ~those who would come after Christ? Are they to only know of Christ? Are they simply to be told of Christ's great witnessing of love at a given moment in history? Is it sufficient for one who himself is wounded simply to know that someone in the past has truly loved? Is Christ's witnessing of love to be a genuine experience for some and just a memory for others? Is His witnessing limited to the historical Christ? All of mankind has been deeply influenced by the original fall and, as a consequence, all are marked with the scar of unbelief---unbelief especially in a God of love. To remedy this situation, it is not sufficient that one know of goodness, but that one actually experience goodness, that one meet goodness in an existential way. This means that i[ Christ's witnessing of true love was in-tended for the whole world--and it was--it is necessary that somehow the whole world be given the advantage of experiencing Christ in a way which goes beyond knowing of Him. One must experience true love as the first Christians did. In the world of the here and now, the historical Christ cannot a~hieve this. That which the historical Christ did for those who could experience Him, the risen Christ must now continue in time and place that all may have the privilege of per-sonally experiendng true love and come thereby to believe in the reality of a God of love. This is the mission of the Church. The Church Thanks to the renewal of ecclesiology in recent years, and, more specifically, thanks to the great work of Vatican II, the Church has become more clearly aware of herself and of her mission, which mission is one and the same as the mission of Christ. The Church must preach the Gospel. To spread the "good news," how-ever, it is not su~cient to preach of Christ--to remind the People of the "historical" Christ. To be sure, they must be keenly aware of the great event of Christ, but the Church must do more than remind the world of Christ. Such a knowlege is not an experiential knowl-edge and cannot counteract the world's experience of selfishness. The Church must, like Christ, give this mod-ern world the experience which Christ gave to those who met Him in Palestine--the Church must give to all who know her and meet her the experience of true selfless love, of a love that seeks only to give. This world, like all men of all times, is a wounded world and in dire need of personally experiencing true and genuine selfless goodness. Without such an experience, this world will not easily believe in God. The Church must make God credible by her total self-giving. Considering the actual situation of fallen man, she will not convince him that love is a reality without an actual self-empty-ing in the very act of love. What has been said of Christ as witness applies also to the Church. Indeed, through the Church, it is the risen Christ who continues His witnessing of love. It is Christ Himself who con-tinues to live on in His Church; it is Christ, therefore, who continues through the Church to make God credi-ble to the world at an existential level. The Church can hide the face .of GOd by not willingly accepting its tremendbus mission of total self-emptying for others. It must be emphasized that all Christians are caught up in this mission of making God credible by witnessing love and selfessness to a world suspicious of love. Every Christian must be willing to love the other,, receiving nothing in return, and, if necessary, losing what he has in order to more clearly demonstrate to this world the reality of love. No doubt there are, within the Church, different' charismatic vocations concerning thi~ witness-ing of God's love. All, however, are committed to .wit-ness .love wherever they are and in whate~;er activity they are involved. ,' ' ' . VOLUME 27° 1968 " 205 Rene H. Chabot, MS. REVIEW FeR RELIGIOUS Religious It is only within this context of the Church as a wit-ness of the selfless love of God that one can truly appreciate and understand the meaning and richness of religious life. The religious must be a witness of love--an outstanding witness. To be an outstanding witness to a fallen world, the religious must love with a selbemptying love, that is, he must actually not re-ceive and even lose what he has in the very act of loving. This explains why a religious must live a truly self-emptying way of life. As seen in the historical ob-servation of Christ's life, next to martyrdom, the greatest self-emptying and, therefore, the clearest witness of pure love, is the life of virginity. All three vows are meant to help the religious witness love in a most beautiful way to the fallen world, but, above all, the vow of chastity does so. In order, therefore, for a religious to understand his particular way of life, and more es-pecially his life of virginity and identification with the poor, he must at all costs understand that he is first of all for others and must witness to them in an "outstand-ing" way the reality of God's love. This presup-poses, then, that he has understood the existential sit-uation of modern man, of fallen humanity. His wit-nessing cannot be in the abstract, but, rather, to man as he exists. Man as he exists is self-centered. He must experience true love by meeting people who love in such a way that they receive nothing in return, and, if love so demands, lose what is theirs by right in the act of loving. The religious is one who is called to witness this self-emptying love in a unique manner-- especially and more clearly through a life of chastity. To the extent that the Church and religious are faith-ful to their vocation and mission, to that same extent will God be made credible. The opposite is also true, for to the extent that they fail to live out their voca-tion, to that same extent also will they "have more than a little to do with the birth of atheism., and conceal the authentic face of God and religion" (The Church in the Modern World, n. 19). .Only when unbelief encounters love will the death of atheism take plac.e, only then will its ugly head be crushed, never again to cryu"Th~re is no God." This meeting will some day take place, for man, in whom unbelief exists, was created by and for the One who is love. It is inevitable that their paths should cross. The "heirs of the kingdom" must do all in their power to insure that this meeting takes place here below. Christ is their power, and through them the sign which He came to give must shine forth for all to see. They must be persevering in their efforts, for encounter might even be delayed until the "eleventh hour." Atheism ~,ill not die without a battle. Its greatest opponent will be the living proof, given by the historical Christ and continued in the risen and mystical Christ, that love without any strings attached, a love that is willing even to cut off the last thread of life to prove its sincerity, has existed in the past and continues to exist here and now. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 27, 1968 2O7 SISTER JOANN OTTENSTROER, P.B.V.M. A Position Paper on a Functional Approach to Silence One of the common elements to be found in the rules of the various religious orders in the Church down through history is silence. Today when each aspect of religious life is being rethought in the light of the modern milieu it seems right that silence should also be reexamined. In many areas of religious living modern needs and changing circumstances demand a different emphasis or viewpoint than have been used in the past. It has been suggested by Donald L. Gelpi, S.J., that this new approach should be a functional one, that is, one which has a practical purpose in mind. It is possible to apply this idea of functionalism to silence. In exploring this possibility the most fundamental starting point is Scripture. A scriptural view of silence reveals the most basic rea-son for silence, that of providing an atmosphere con-ducive to a deep personal relationship with God. In the 01d Testament silence of itself does not stand out as a theme. It is always related to prayer or awe of the Almighty. Instead of being commanded to keep silence the Israelites are often commanded to speak: "Take to + heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill + them into your children. Speak of them at home and ÷ abroad, whether you are busy or at rest" (Dt 6:67). Sister Joann O~- Silence in the life of Christ is also related to His tenstroerisaf~u.'ul~ periods of prayer: "And when he had dismissed the rnernb~ of Sacred crowd, he went up the mountain by himself to pray" Heart School; Aber-deen, South Dakota (Mr 14:23). "Now it came to pass in those days, that he 57401. '. , " ¯ went out to the mountain to pray and continued all REVlW¢ r0R~EL*e.n1i0gUhSt iwnh penra Cyherri stto f eGlto tdh"e (nLeekd 6 f:o1r 2s)il.e Intc cea Hne b wei tnhodtriecwed f rtohmat 208 those around Him. He did not impose His need for silence upon others but rather showed them by His example that a man needs frequent periods of time alone with his God if he is to learn to know and love Him in a deep, personal way. The few times when it is specifically recorded that Christ kept silence in the presence of others He was using it as a rebuke or a seeming rebuke. This can be seen in His refusal to answer Pilate and Herod: "But Jesus gave him no answer" (Jn 19:9). Now he put many questions to him, but he made him no answer" (Lk 23:9). The Canaanite woman certainly felt this rebuke as Christ tested her faith: "He answered her not a word" (Mr 15:23). So also did the men who had accused the adulteress while forgetting their own guilt. The appli-cation of this use of ~silence to the life of a Christian would of necessity be rare since the all-pervading spirit of a Christian, as it is of Christ, is love and joy, not rebuke. When Christ speaks of the use of the tongue it is mainly an encouragement of the correct use of speech, to praise God, to greet all not just friends (Mt 5:47), to preach the good news; or it is a warning against the misuse of speech. Thus He warns: "But I tell you, that of every idle word men speak, they shall give account on the day of judgment. For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be cbndemned (Mt 12:36-7). It would not be correct to conclude from this warning that Christ expected His followers to abandon the use of their tongue in order to avoid idle words. A more logical conclusion would be that He expected His followers to use their speech to communicate the spirit of brotherhood which He had given them. As Sister Rose Alice, s.s.J., has said: "Perhaps we need to be reminded that nothing is idle which conduces to charity." 1 Like their Master the writers of the Epistles encourage the proper use of speech and warn against its misuse: "Let no ill speech proceed from your mouth, but what-ever is good for supplying what fits the current necessity, that it may give grace to the hearers" (Eph 5:29). "Let the word of Christ dwell in you abundantly: in all wisdom teach and admonish one another by psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, singing in your hearts to God by his grace" (Col 3:16). "Out of the same mouth proceed blessing and cursing. These things, my brothers ought not to be so" (Jas 3:2). James fully recognizes the. difficulties which a Christian encounters as he tries to live out this positive use of his speech to bring joy rather than pain to others. However, 1Sister Rose Alice, s.s.J., "On the Art of Small Talk," REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V. 23 (1964), p. 766. + + + Alflrroach to Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 SistePr~ ]Boa.Vnn~I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS it do~s not seem that he wants his fellow Christians to de.spair of ever suc.ceeding in this task and to lapse into negative silence. The attitude toward silence which reveals itself in the Scriptures is ~a positive one o[. using silence as a more direct and conscious awareness of one's relati6nship with God. It does not mean a cutting~6ff of the positive use of speech to share this. awareness and its consequent joy with others. Scriptural silence callg for a control of one's tongue whenever speech will wound another person or betray the spirit of ~Jnity and love which Christ wills His followers to share with those they meet as they live their daily lives. Thus from the Scriptures it can be seen that silence and speech complement each'othe~ 'silence pro-viding an atmosphere~ f6r personal contact with God and speech providing a sharing of the results of this contact when the' Christian is again in the presence of other persons. This positive attitude to'ward silence which is found in the Scriptures can also be found in the history of the rules of ~silence and the place of ~ilence in religious o~ders as they developed in the life of thd Church. At times it may seem that ~t more negative, approach, of silence for its own sake,'had darkened this'httitude in the early religious communities' but /~ more Chreful study shows that basically the idea of silence as a functional means to union with'God was never lost. The first religious had as their main purpose a per-sonal union with God acquired by. withdraw!rig from the World of sin in a physical, and mental way, Thomas Merton points oht how° these monks differ frdm other religious: "The monk is distinguished, even from other religious vocations by the fact that he is essentially and conclusivel~ dedicated to seeking God, rather than seek-ing souls for God." 2 Since St. Beiaedict's Rule has .bedn one of the greatest influences on later religious orders, it ma~y be used to show how silence was viewed at the beginning of monas-ticism and on through history. In the rule of St. Benedict these quotations about silence may be found: Chapter 6 of Silence. Let us act in .conformity with that say-ing of the Prophet: 'I have set a guard.to my mouth; I was dumb and Was humbled and kept silence from good things.' Here the prophet shows that if we ought at times for the sake of silence to refrain even from good'words, much more ought we to abstain from words on account of the punishment due to sin. Therefore, on account of the importance of silence, let permission to speak be rarely given even to the perfect disciples, even thougli their" words be good' and holy and conducive to edification because it is written: 'In the multitude s Thomas Merton, The Silent L~fe (New York: Farrar, Cudahy and Strauss, 1957), p. viii. of words there shall not want sin,' and elsewhere: 'Death and life are in the power of the tongue.' 'For to speak and to teach are the province of the master, whereas that of the disciple is to be silent and ligten. Therefore; if anything is to be asked of the superior, let' it be done with all humility and subjection of reverence lest one seem to speak more than is expedient. Buffoonery, however, or idle words or such as move to laughter we utterly condemn in every place, and forbid the disciple to open his mouth to any such discourse? That No One May Speak After Compline. Monks ought to have a zeal for silence, at all times, but especially during the hours of the night and this should hold at all times, whether on days of fasting or othbi" days., and on ,coming out from Compline no one shall bb allowed thereafter to speak to any-one. But if one be found"~o have violated this rule' of silence, let him be subjected to severe punishment--unless the presence of guests make it necessary, or perhaps the Abbot should give one a command. But even.this must be done becomingly and with all gravity and mo.d~rfition.' The most profound silence shall be kept at table so that the whispering or voice of no one save that of the reader ~lone be heard. The brethren will so help'each other, to what is neces-sary as regards food and drink that no one may have need to ask for anything. Should however something be required, let it be asked for by means of Some sign rather thanby words. Let no one ask any question there ConCerning What is being read or anything else, lest occasion be given to ~e Evil One, unless perhaps the superior should wish to say something briefly for the edification of the brethren? The idea of silence which emerges from these quota-tions is one of absolute; complete silence within :the monastery. How did' silence~ come ' to be h~ld as" such an important, discipline 1~3;' St. Benedict? First '6f all, it must be understood that Benedict presupposed that the ob-servance of external silence would bring the desired union with God. If he were questioned m6re about it, iv is likely ~that he would answer as Thomas Merton has: Monastic solitude, poverty, obedience, silence and p~a~er dispose the soul for this mysterious destiny in "God. Asceticism itself does not produce divine union as its direct result. It only disposes the soul for union. When ascetic practices are misused, they serve only to fill the monk with himself and to harden his heart in resistance to grace? Secondly, it must°be kept "in mind that the withdrawal from the world of men was basic to the life of a monk. This cannot be said of modern, active rell~ious. As one looks back to what the early Church fathers hav~ said about silence it may seem that the~ too praise silence for its'own sake as if it alone could produce a true spiritual life. "Where the severity of silence is strictly observed, religion thrives most commendably The Holy Rule o/ Our Most Holy Father Saint Benedict (St. Meinrad: Abbey Press, 1937), p. 25-6. Ibid, p. 68-9. Ibid, p. 64. Merton, The Silent Li~e, pp. 3--4. Approach Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 211 ÷ Sister ]oann, P .B. V .M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and fully" (John Gerson, chancellor of Paris).¢ How-ever, here again these men presupposed a purposeful use of silence. This is shown in many other examples of thoughts on silence from men of the early Church. "For it is in vain that the tongue remains silent unless the spirit addresses itself to God" (Cardinal John Bona, Cistercian).s "Silence is an excellent thing, in fact, it is nothing other than the mother of the wisest thought" (St. Diadochus).O "Speak, if you have something to say that is better and more excellent than silence. But when it is more advisable to be still rather than to speak, embrace silence" (St. Gregory of Nazianzus).1° "For it is written: 'A wise man is silent till the right time comes' (Sir 20:6), that is to say, when he sees it opportune to speak what is fitting, he sets aside the rigorous observance of silence and directs his effort to be of assistance" (St. Gregory the Great).11 As time went on, the living out of the Rule of Benedict began to change. The primitive observance of labor, obscurity, and solitude came into contact with the urban monasticism of the cities. These monks or canons of the city existed only to furnish choirs for the great Roman basilicas. From these two groups one emerged in which the liturgy was their whole life. "The offices 'became longer, liturgical, ceremonies were added, work was curtailed or ceased to exist, and the monk became in-tensely conscious of his function as one deputed to carry out with solemnity the public worship of the Church." 12 Shortly after the death of St. Benedict his monks be-came missionaries. However, even as they became more active they cl'ung to the original purpose of the primitive order, that of withdrawing from men to approach God dire~ctly. "The monks had been chosen for the work of spreading the Christian faith and preserving what could be preserved of Roman order and culture. But their vocation was to remain, as it had always been, essen-tially contemplative, sedentary and silent." 13 It is not until later in history when such people as Vincent de Paul, Angela Merici, and Nano Nagle ap-pear, that one finds religious orders whose purpose has changed from that of the primitive monks. Of course they still seek a personal union with God but now it is through other people, not by withdrawal from them. Each of these founders saw that the rules of the earlier 7Maurus Walter, O.S.B., The Principles of Monasticism (St. Louis: Herder, 1962), p. 71. s Ibid, p. 70. s Ibid, p. 67. 10 Ibid, p. 63. 11 Ibid, p. 72. m Thomas Merton, The Silent Life, p. fig. la Ibid, p. 70. monastic orders would not fit his group. Each struggled to keep his community free from the observances which would cut it off from the People of God with whom they wished to work. Yet these rules had become so rigid that in order to survive at all, the founders were forced to accept what they so desperately opposed. Only centuries later, when secular institutes appeared, did anyone succeed in establishing a religious group without taking on all the rules of early monasticism. If this desire to escape monastic rules were applied to silence, it would no doubt be seen that, while silence would certainly be necessary for prayer and personal re-evaluation in any apostolic religious group, so also would the correct use of speech be necessary. Such extremes as condemning what causes laughter or using sign language would not be considered proper for a group working directly with other people. As history continues to unfold, perhaps the most not-able change in mankind is the rate of this change. Devel-opments which once took centuries now happen in a few years. The multitude of new facts, ideas, and situa-tions is fabulous and ever growing. To handle these changes and integrate them in a meaningful way man has seen the need for better communication. Both mass media and small group discussions have been brought to bear on this problem of rapid change. Vatican II has considered communication important enough to issue a decree on it. This is one aspect of the world in which modern religious groups find themselves. Thus, for religious use also, communication becomes ever more important. If their purpose is union with God through God's people living today, then they too must know how to communicate and integrate the vast number of new ideas and situations which confront them. They must look at silence and find its essence. They cannot tolerate accidentals which belong to another age and serve an-other purpose. Since it can safely be said that "silence is not classified as a virtue, but it is the atmosphere in which virtues develop," 14 it follows that it is possible for this atmos-phere to fail to produce the desired virtue. There are other elements in any given situation which can make silence destructive instead of productive. This is recog-nized even by authors who have devoted an entire chapter or article to the praise of silence. There is usually included a warning against the misuse of silence: "Care must be taken not to use obligatory silence as a cloak for a silence willingly practiced to spurn a neigh-bor for real or imagined injury. There is not only no 1~ Luis M. Martinez, Only Jesus (New York: Herder and Herder, 1962), p. 36. ÷ ÷ + Approach to Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ + Sister $oann, P.B.V.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS merit in this type of silence, but it can actually be sin-ful." 1~ "The manner in which religious silence is some-. times practiced causes one to Wonder whether the whole matter is at all feasible. At one time silence in a con-vent or monastery or seminary appears to be a cold indifferent rudefiess. At another it seems to offer a nega-tion as answer to real human needs: the need to share with a special friend or the need to unburden oneself to another. Surely, if religious silence meant this kind of thing it would be incompatible with the second greatest precept, a warm sympathetic understanding love of our brother or sister." le Perhaps the most obvious danger of silence is the tendency to use it as a cloak to diguise selfishness. It is very easy to become so involved in one's own work and concerns that other people do not matter. Silence be-comes a convenient way to avoid getting involved with others. In many cases the effort required to say something encouraging or cheerful to a sister one meets is much greater than simply not speaking to the sister. Often this silence is simply an ignoring of even the thought that this sister might' be in need of a friendly word from someone. Getting involved in the problems of another will demand time. It is much more simple to just keep silence. God will help the sister if she needs help. But the fact which is forgotten is that God will use the lips, heart, and mind of another person to bring the aid of which the sister is in need. One author has made this attitude clear by using this example: Those who have enjoyed the gift of ill-health will remember vividly their return, after a long absence, to their religious house. More than the uncarpeted floors, and perhaps the hard bed, the thing that impresses most as different is the observance of silence. After the first greeting, people settle down to passing you in the corridor without the flickering of the eyelid; they look for no sign of recognition and give none. Rather they look through you . They will sit mute beside you at meals, mouths active only in the intake of calories. During the previous weeks it would have been considered ill mannered to ignore a nurse or doctor or patient, and might have caused comment on the aloofness or snobbery of religious. In a lay community of any kind, even if your intention were to save people from boredom or embarrassment or waste of time, they would interpret your behavior as unfriendly and resent it . Now, ina religious house we develop a flair for ignoring each other. We have chosen to absolve each other from the necessity of speaking whenever we meet; indeed we oblige ourselves not to speak for long periods of the day.1~ 1~ Rev. Charles Hugo Doyle, Little Steps to Great Holiness (West-minster: Newman,. 1956), p. 256; ~OThomas Dubay, S:M., "Silence and Renewal," REw~w FOR RELX~;~OUS, V. 15 (1956), p. 93. l~Michael Sweetman, S.J., "Silence," R~vmw Fog RELm~ous, v. 22 (1963), p. 450. A second danger of too much silence is a retarding of interpersonal relationships which are necessary for each person if he is to become more fully human. In religious life one important task is the building of a real com-munity. To do this each sister must get to know the other sisters with whom she lives to a more than superficial depth: This union demands that religious discover and love each other in their individuality, that they be aware of the needs of others, that they seek the interests of others and appreciate those with whom they live. Only in so doing do the members discover and become themselves. There is required a spirit of openness and honesty among the members in order to effect this personal contact as opposed to the individual being wrapped up in self as an isolated unit in an aggregate.~ Just as in a family, unity in religious" life breaks down when the members do not communicate with each other: Building family trust is a big, big job. And the toughest ~aart is learning to talk things out. Without talking, few milies can get along well. The members can't really under-stand family hopes and problems unless they have been dis-cussed.~ If this is true of families which are united by blood and common background, it certainly would be more true in a group with varying backgrounds which wishes to form a common uniting bond of understanding and love. This type of deep relationship cannot be acquired with-out much time given to real communication between the persons involved. The opportunity for such com-munication has not been provided for religious in the past: The personal relationship that has been characteristic of the religious' relationship to Almighty God has almost fenced her off from communicating with her fellow religious. Outside of stylized and formalized recreation, certainly among religious women, there is very little opportunity to sit down and talk things over.= Some of the attitudes religious now have toward talk-ing in order to establish a personal relationship with another sister must be changed if this misuse of silence is to be overcome. A deeper level of communication is often reached through small talk: "It has been a common experience among college teachers that small talk with their stud- ~sWilliam F. Hogan, C~S.C., "Community Life, an Event," Sisters Today (1966), p. 356-7. :tJim Carroll, "Let's Start Talking," Witness, v. 3 (April 23, 1967), p. 8. =John J. Evoy and Van F. Christoph, Maturity in the Religious Li/e, New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965, p. 230. ÷ ÷ ÷ A~oo~h to Silence VOLUME 27, 4. 4. 4. Sister Joann, P.B.V.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 216 ents often paves the way for some very serious talk." 21 "Yet it [small talk] will always be other-oriented, not naive prattle, but the practical expression of that socia-bility which can be described as 'patient, kind, seeking not its own, not puffed up.' " 22 An appreciation and respect for the kind of communication which builds real personal relationship and thus a community of united persons must be developed in order to make silence purposeful rather than a destructive force. Another situation in which maintaining silence would be damaging is in failing to give a concrete expression to one's ideas and opinions. A person's thoughts on any given subject are tested and either strengthened or modified by exposing them to the criticism of others: Those in charge of religious, particularly at the beginning of their training, should reflect that the religious who finds that she is isolated constantly and must do practically all her thinking alone, and does not have a chance really to com-municate with others, is going to be deprived of a richness which is there, if only permitted and encouraged.= Now it is true that each of them presumably thinks re-peatedly about many important things in her meditation and other prayers. But her significant thinking must also in large ~reaqrut ebnet wopipthoirntu an istoiecsi atol ccoomntmexutn. iAca tree.l~igious should be given Training in communicating ideas would be needed for all religious, but especially for those who came from families in which there was little discussion or sharing of ideas. These people would need to be led to see the value of such sharing as well as how to carry it out: But it may be objected, is it so necessary that everyone ex-press himself at the group, meetin. .g? Surely the Sister who says nothing during an entire d~scuss~on does not seem to be par-ticipating to the full, but she may help very much by her presence and encouraging demeanor. True her presence may do much for the atmosphere, but effort is needed if she is to express herself, to voice her agreement, or the lack of it--all these call for the inter-functioning of body, intellect, will, and emotions: for integrated self-activity. The result of such effort is an enhancement of the self--and benefit to her and all those who hear her. The chance to give an opinion, be it ever so brief, to express her views, places her in a condition of openness and dialogue with others, while silent consent can never reproduce such a state. The prudence, kindliness, discre-tion, and frankness which such expression of opinion will elicit from her will develop her personality and give her inmost thoughts in concrete form. Moreover, she has the some-times new experience of having her opinion taken seriously, received with respect, and given consideration by her peers. Again, this is enrichment; community is being fashioned. In the warmth of give and take her ideas are multiplied, Sister Rose Alice, "On the Art of Small Talk," p. 766. Ibid. Thomas Dubay, "Silence and Renewal," p. 231. Thomas Dubay, "Silence and Renewal," p. 2~0. broadened, and deepened. Ramifications she never dreamt of are now added to her stock of ideas and impressions on the subject. She begins to "experience community" through the gift of her speech-attempts, through the gift of herself to the gro.up; and the group's acceptance of her continues the ex-perience in their lives as well.~ Since sisters today are expected to be able to think for themselves and form their own opinions, it is absolutely necessary that they be given frequent opportunities to clarify their ideas by sharing them with others. Only then will their opinions be strong but still flexible enough to meet other opinions and produce worthwhile results. It is obvious that something which has been valued as highly as silence has been for so many centuries must have many valuable uses which counteract the dangers involved. The first use of silence, which has already been mentioned in the scriptural and historical development of silence, is that of prayer: "The positive reason for silence is, of course, to give ourselves a chance to find God and live in his presence/' 26 If prayer is considered as a conversation with God, needed to develop a deep personal relationship, then it can be seen that much time must be spent in this conversation just as much time is needed to develop deep human relationships. Just as in human love, after the relationship has been developed silence itself can communicate: "When love has reached a high degree words are not necessary. Silence becomes a form of communication." 27 By the very fact that prayer is an expression of a per-sonal relationship with God it will vary greatly with each person in the kind, the amount, and the place of this expression. It would be supposed that the union needs daily strengthening if it is to continue todevelop. Each religious should be free to take the periods of silence she needs to engage in prayer. It should not be necessary to set up strict legislation on this matter. When a sister withdraws from the company of others to the chapel, her own room, or a quiet place outdoors a mutual charity among the rest of the community should allow her the silence she needs. However, she should not expect to impose on the other sisters her need for silence at any given time. A mutual understanding and reasonable-ness on each side is needed. It seems logical to expect that each sister who has professed a desire for an intimate union with God would feel the need for a reasonable portion of each day to be spent in loving conversation with Him. Another activity which needs frequent periods of ~nSister Gertrude Joseph Donnelly, C.S.J.O., The Sister Apostle, (Notre Dame: Fides, 1964), p. 42. ~ Michael Sweetman, "Silence," p. 431. ~ Luis M. Martinez, Only Jesus, p. 36. ÷ ÷ ÷ Approach to Silence ~/OLUME 27, 1968 4. SistePr~ ].oVa~nnI., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS silence is reading. Related to this is serious study of new views and ideas as they appear on the world scene: "It [silenCe] provides the only possible atmosphere for serious study." 2s .As the profusion of worthwhile books and magazines continues to grow, each sister should feel a corresponding growth in the need to take more and more time to read. This demands periods of silence. A sister who lacks the self-discipline to provide increased time for reading and study or who does not realize the need for such study cannot expect to be able to have an intelligent understanding of the world around her. Nor will she be able to appreciate the renewal taking place within the Church and her religious community. This use of silence for intellectual growth is becoming in-creasingly important to religious life today. A use of silence which has a great effect on the moral and spiritual development of the person is the re-evalua-tion of himself. This might be thought of as examina-tion of congcience but actually it should be much broader. Included in the evaluation should be the goals to be reached, the means used to reach the goal, as well as neglects or failings in using the means. This type of evaluation would not need lengthy, daily times of silence but rather a few minutes a day with longer periods on days of recollection and retreats. The person who fails to reevaluate himself periodically is very likely to become too rigid in his attitudes and ways of doing things. He runs the risk of becoming irrelevant since the circum-stances in which he must strive for his goals are con-stantly changing, thus requiring him to change his re-sponse also. Silence is a~so needed for the carrying out of most creative activities. One who is fortunate enough to have the ability to see the things around him in a uniquely perceptive way needs times of silence in order to produce an expression of his experiences through which they can be shared with others. If he is not allowed these times of leisure and quiet the community to which his works would have been presented is impoverished by this loss. Whether the creative person expresses himself through poetry, prose, painting, music, or in other ways matters little. What is of importance is the greater insight into rea~lity which those who share in his creations come to possess. Religious who are expected to be aware of the sl~iritual aspect oLlife should value highly these expres-sions of the spirit of things. Religious communities should provide opportunities for these creations to hap-pen. This requires that each sister show respect for the need of the creative sister for periods of silence not needed by other sisters. Michael Sweetman, "Silence," p. 432. Somewhat related to creative activity is the aesthetic appreciation of art and culture in its various forms. This also frequently requires a type of silence. Serious music cannot be fully experienced if other noises interfere. WatChing serious or cultural television programs loses much of its value if it is frequently interrupted by talk-ing or other noises. It often happens that the insight gained by exposure to a particular art expression or a fascinating idea produces an inability to express the new insight until it has been integrated into the person receiving it. Respect for this period of inarticulation should be shown by those who may not, for a. variety of reasons, have felt this experience. Again since sisters are expected to be cultured, they should automatically perceive situations in which silence is called for in order to provide the spirit with the quiet needed for apprecia-tion. This would be true even if the sister herself had a low level of appreciation since consideration for others present should be shown. Possibly the lower level of cultural appreciation could be. raised by more frequent exposure to cultural events. Another very important type of silence is the receptive silence needed for listening. From all sides the cry for the need to listen is heard. Certainly this is also a need in religious communities where persons are striving for unity with each other to provide an example for the rest of mankind. There can be no real community with-out real listening. The religious who is able to listen to the real message her sisters are communicating to her and who is able to respond to their needs in an in-dividual way without passing judgment is invaluable to her community. It can be seen that the functional uses of silence are many. If a religious intends to satisfy the various needs which call for some type of silence she must look at her personal life and decide when, where, and how much silence she should have. Since each individual in a community does not need the same amount or kind of silence, what kind of legisla-tion should there be in the rules of religious orders con-cerning silence? It may be helpful to consider the article on silence as it now appears in the Constitutions of the Presentation Sisters to see if it promotes functional silence. Article 121 of the Modified Articles of the Con-stitution calls for silence after evening recreation, "dur-ing the time when not actively engaged in assigned duties or at recreation," 29 and at meals. Each of these will be discussed separately. / ~ ModiIied Articles of the Constitutions oI the Congregation ol the Sisters of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin MaT, May 1, 1966, p. 5. VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ Sister ~oann, P.B.V.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~o The value of silence at meals is being questioned more and more: "We have to re-evaluate the pattern of so much silence connected with eating in religious com-munities. Eating is a social activity." a0 The social aspect of a meal is hard to miss. Usually it is one of the few times the religious community is together. It is an opportunity to begin the personal relationships which later can be deepened by more intimate and serious conversation. The value of the reading done at table can also be questioned. As Fathers Evoy and Christoph have, said, the reading is often merely tolerated or if someone is trying to listen he is distracted by the clatter of dishes, a poor reader, or the eating itself. Their comment on silence at lunch can also be applied to meals: If I have to stand up and just eat in silence, it breeds this attitude: "You are in the world, and I am in the world. Don't interrupt me. Don't disturb me. I am communicating with God." But I am not. I am just dying to say somethingmsome-thing worthwhile.= Possibly the effort required to develop good table con-versation would require much more self-discipline and unselfishness than keeping silence. Many sisters need practice in the art of general conversation. Table discus-sions could provide for this practice. The practice of night silence is an example of a regu-lation which belongs to another age: Again, it is a matter of suiting the need of the times. Sisters, there was a time in this country and in Europe when after evening recreation the whole day was over, and the great silence started. This was sensible because the Superior did not want the Sisters just chatting away all evening, and they really h~d little else to do. Ours is another age.a-" The milieu of today is very much orientated toward evening activities. Most culture events and many meet-ings take place in the evening. The stress and tension of the day's work just begin to lessen in the evening. The increased demands of modern life as compared to medie-val life must be considered: These create tensions which require more than just occa-sional breaks from the common order, or we are going to go berserk . I think we should take another look at some of the strictures that are made on our so-called "breaking of silence." = With the ever increasing need for discussion of new ideas and re-evaluation of the old, as well as an increased need for communication in order to develop deeper rela- =John 'J. Evoy and Van F. Christoph, Maturity in the Religious ¯ LiIe, p. 279. = Ibid, p. 278. m Ibid, p. 303. m Ibid, p. 303. tionships among religious, more time must be found in which to satisfy these needs: Your leisure should be able to provide you with opportunity, at least, for a "gab session." You should be able to com-municate, because there are many areas in which you cannot think richly and productively unless you are communicating with other persons.~' When we get together,it is in recreation or in silence or in prayers. The recreation is too formalized at times even to be recreating so we need that freedom to talk. to fellow religious as long as we are not gossiping.~ The only opportunity for this kind of talking often comes after nine o'clock. Instead of legislating a time for night silence, a silence of discretion and of charity should be kept. This would mean a consideration for those who have already retired as well as those doing work needing silence. In order to provide a reorientation of the complete person directly to God at the close of the day, Compline and preparation for morning meditation could be made privately by each sister before she goes to bed. The counsel to observe silence at all times when not active in assigned duties or recreation seems to be the antithesis of functional silence. It does not take into ac-count the freedom of speech which is necessary for the mature growth of the sister into a person able to express herself in a charitable, intellectual, and cultural way. Instead it seems to oblige silence for the sake of silence and presupposes that absolute silence is needed for rec-ollection. As religious communities mature and individual reli-gious are made more and more responsible for their own actions there should be less need for legislation on silence. It should be possible to educate the sisters in the value and functional use of silence rather than to legislate the times and places of silence. If a group feels the need for definite regulations these should be decided on a local level. In speaking of her ideal community Judith Tare says: "But there are no set periods for prescribing silence in this ideal community. Loving awareness of the needs of others, particularly at night, provides the guidelines for that kind of quiet." 36 There will always be those who will be too immature or negligent to take the responsibility for silence themselves. However, the regulations set up for the whole community should not be made just to protect these people. If this is done the community as a whole will fail to reach the higher level of maturity of which the majority of the members are capable. 3~ Ibid, p. 277-8. an Ibid, p. 231. ~Judith Tate, O.S.B., Sisters [or the World (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966), p. 127. + Approach to Silence VOLUME 27, 1968 22] As stated in the title of this paper, an attempt has been made to present one position or view on silence. It seems to be a position which has. basis .in Scripture and history as well as one suited to modem life. If there are some who hold another view of silence it is hoped that they will be willing to present their ideas, keeping in mind what the Council fathers have said about lawful div~er.siiy: "Hence, let there be unity in what is necessary, freedom in what is unsettled, and charity in any case." aT If this can be done then each sister no matter what her views may be, will be able to follow the recommendation of St. Paul: "Whatever you do in word or in work, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him" (Col 3:17). ~ Walter Abbott, s.J., The Documents "o1 Fatica~ H New York: Guild Press, 1966, p. 306~ ÷ ÷ ÷ SistePr.B ]o.Fan.Mn,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 222 THOMAS DHBAY, S.M. Indwelling Transfiguring Consummation Any* living being is best appreciated in its final com-pletion. The rose plant does. not. fully enchant the eye as it grows through its six-inch stage but only as it blooms with scarlet exuberance. The dignity of the hu-man person is not entirely apparent at the age of two months but only when a fullness of days has brought wisdom and virtue. ,The indwelling mystery in the newly baptized infant is a subject worthy of reflection, but it is far more impressive when considered in the contemplative mystic. This we have already studied: But even the contemplation ot earth, unspeakable as it is, is but a dim prelude of the final issue of the divine inhabitation when the abiding Guests shall be seen face to face. St. Paul's description of supernatural wisdom as surpassing man's wildest imagination is especially relevant to the indwelling of the beatific vision: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." 1 Indwelling Vision In a definition both simple find majestic Benedict XII declared that the souls of the blessed "see the divine essence by an intuhive and'even facial vision without the intermed~ation of any creature acting as a seen principle. Rather they see the divine nature showing it-self unveiled, clearly, openly. By this vision they enjoy the divine essence, and from this vision and fruition ¯ Previous articles in this series were published in REWEW FOE RELIC~OUS, v. 26 (1967), pp. 203--30 ("Indwelling God: Old Testament Preparation'); pp. 441-60 ("Interindwelling: New Testament Com-pletion'); pp.632-50 ("Indwelling Dynamism'); pp. 910-38 ("Eu-charist, Indwelling, Mystical Body'); pp. 1001-23 ("Indwelling Sum-mit'); and v, 27 (1968), pp. 21-45 ("Virginal Temples'). 1 1 Cot 2:9. Thomas Dubay, S.M., is a faculty member of Mary-crest College; Dav-enport, Iowa; ad-dress: Box 782; Bettendorf, Iowa 52722. VOLUME 27, 1968 223 4. 4. Thomas Dubay S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS their souls are truly happy." 2 The Council of Florence taught .that the souls of the blessed see the very inner life of the Trinity as such: "They gaze .clearly upon God, three and one, just as He is." 3 This clear, direct, open sight of the divine nature obviously implies the supreme perfection of the indwell-ing presence, for how could man gaze upon the Trinity with the mediation of no creature unless the divine es-sence were immediately present to his intellect? So true is this that Leo XIII said that the divine indwelling of earth differs from that of heaven "only in condition or state." 4 They are ~ubstantially the same mystery differ-ing as incomplete to complete, obscure knowledge to clear vision, interrupted love to continual love, imper-fect enjoyment to perfect enjoyment, bud to bloom. The Scriptural Account Before we explore the implications of these magiste-rial statements, we must first look into the biblical de-posit and note how all "the doctrinal essentials are al-ready contained in the divine self-revelation. Although many Scripture scholars hold (or did hold)5 that in the old dispensa.tion God did not as a matter of fact reveal the ultimate destiny of man, we are not doing violence to the ancient revelation in seeing old texts in the light of the new. If the Old Testament does not contain a revelation of the beatific vision, it at least contains a number of statements that are most fully realized only in our indwelling mystery of the patria.n The Book of Wisdom simply and gracefully describes the final blessedness of those who have suffered well on earth: The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was judged an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace. For if before men, indeed, they be punished, yet is their hope full of immortality; chastised a littl.e, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself. As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. The Lord shall be their king forever. The faithful shall abide with him in love.7 ~ DB 530. 8 DB 693. *"Haec autem mira coniunctio, quae suo nomine inhabitatio dicitur, conditione tantum seu statu ab ea discrepans qua caelites Deus beando complectitur." Divinum illud munus, Acta Sanctae Sedis, v. 29 (1896-1897), p. 653. ~ Recent discoveries at Urgarit strongly suggest that the beatific vision was as a matter of fact revealed to the Hebrews; see Dahood's discussion of the Psalms in the "Anchor Bible." 6Ps 15:11; 16:15; 35:9-10; 48:16. 7 Wis 3:1-9. The New Testament is brief and clear in its revela-tion of the indwelling presence of vision. We shall rise in our bodies because of the Spirit lodged within. "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you," declares St. Paul, "then he who raised Jesus Christ from the dead will also bring to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who dwells in you." s We are destined to be forever in the presence of the Trinity and to enjoy the very inner trinitarian life: "In my Fa-ther's house there are many mansions. Were it not so, I should have told you, because I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I am coming again, and I will take you to myself; that where I am, there you also may be. Father, I will that where I am, they also whom thou hast given me may be with me; in order that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me. Well done, good and faithful servant; because thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will set thee over many; enter into the joy of thy master." 9 This presence and this joy imply a gazing upon the very face of God, knowing the divine essence face-to-face, clearly, just as it is: "Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God. Now this is everlasting life, that they may know thee, the only true God, and him whom thou hast sent, Jesus Christ. We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I have been known. Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is. And I heard a loud voice fro~ the throne say, 'Behold the dwelling of God with men, and he will dwell with them. And they will be his people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. And death shall be no more; neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away.' " 10 All this shall be so splendid that we have nothing in this life with which to compare it: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." 11 Think, suggests Paul, of the most brilliant sunset you have ever seen--it is not like the wisdom of God. Re-call the most soothing melody you have ever heard--it 8 Rom 8:11. aJn 14:2-3; 17:24; Mt 25:21. ~ Mt 5:8; Jn 17:3; 1 Cor 13:12; 1 Jn 3:2; Apoc 22:3-5. u 1 Cot 2:9. The beatific vision is the culmination of all wisdom in the Christ economy. What is true o1~ obscurely seen wisdom on earth is all the more true of facial vision. ÷ ÷ ÷ Consummation VOLUME 27, 1968 225 Thomas Dubay $.M. REV~EWFOR REHG~OUS is nothing compared to the divine harmony. Imagine the most charming, innocent, pure maiden's face that has ever rejoiced your eye it is dullness next :to the splen-dor of what lies ahead. Yes, "eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." Indwelling Presence We commonly say of a person who has just died that he has gone to God. Literally and in a bodily sense he has gone nowhere. We mean that his soul, released as it is from its union with the body, is no longer in time but in eternity. It has "gone" to its particular judgment "before God." This going before God is an appearing,: a manner of speaking, a metaphor. We are expressing a change in state by what is so familiar to us, a change in place. Except for the case of the risen body--for a body is in a place,---our expression, "going to heaven," means the possession of .the intuitive vision of the Trinity. If a man dies without the need of purgatory's cleansing, his . "going to heaven" is simply a dropping of the veil, a transformation from the state of the indwelling Trinity not seen to the state of the indwelling Trinity seen. The one presence continues from time into eternity, ~rom faith into clear knowledge, ta'om inchoate love and joy to consummate love and joy. The beatific vision is nothing other than the indwelling mystery in its final completion: an indwelling, but no longer a dark mystery. "God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and Gbd in him. When he appears, we shall be like ~o him, for we shall see him just as he'is," la that is, the triune God abiding in our s6uls. . A moment's reflection immediately shows why the beatific vision must involve an indwelling presence. As a matter of fact, the knowledge of the divine object in this facial vision must be closer to man than any other object he has ever known. Any knowledge requires the immaterial presence of the known within the knower. My knowledge of a tree demands an intentional, mental, representational presence of the tree in my mind. Other-wise I could not possibly know it. However, the tree is not present in "its material being. It remains itself in its own place, but at the same time it does take up an ideal presence in my imagination, and intellect. Knowledge demands a presence of the known object within the knower. In the beatific vision this knowledge.-demanding-pres-ence principle attains its perfect fulfillment, for God is ~ l'Jn 4:16; 3:2. immediately present in His own being without the aid of a representational idea to express Him. I know the tree through the aid of an idea expressing the tree, but no created idea can express God as He is in.'Himself. Any created idea, because created, must be more unlike God than like Him. He is infinite, never exhaustible; the idea is always finite, easily exhaustible. If the Trinity is known as it is, it must be by an idealess, immediate union with the human_ intellect. Because there can be no created idea between the human intellect and "the di-vine reality, the latter is more intimately present to man in .the beatific vision than anything man has ever known. It was St. Thomas' judgment that "no creature can come more close to God than in seeing His substance." la The beatific vision, therefore, is the indwelling pres-ence at its ultimate pinnacle. It is a presence singular, unique, ineffable. It is the maturation of the whole su-pernatural economy. We must, therefore, examine more closely this con-summation of our mystery. Essential Glory.: Vision , By what precisely does the soul possess the° Trinity in the facial presence of eternal life? All theologians agree that total essential glory consists in seeing, loving, and enjoying Father, Son, and Spirit, but they do not agree as to which of these three operation.s is the crucial one. St. Thomas held that the intellectual vision is flae es-sential act of glory because it is by knowing that man possesses God, and this knowing is the root reason he can also love and enjoy. Scotus held that the essential act is love because love is :the .most perfect of man's operations and unites him really and not merely inten-tionally with the beloved. Knowing in this view is merely a condition of love and joy. Aureolus placed the core of beatitude in delight because it is only by delight that man is completely satiated. Suarez plied a middle course in proposing that essential glory is a combina-tion of vision and the love of friendship. His reason was that both knowledge and love are needed for a perfect possession. And further, delight supposes both of them. We believe that the view of the Angelic, Doctor is the preferable, and that for several reasons. It seems to us that the dominant scriptural evidences point to vision as the root of our final glorification: "Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see. God. Now this is everlasting life, that they may know thee, the only true God. We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I-know ih part, but Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.62, n.lO. 4" ÷ ÷ VOLUME'27, 1968 227 ÷ ÷ Thomas Duba~ $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS then I shall know even as I have been known. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see 'him just as he is." a4 The .basic theological reason behind this position points to knowledge as that by which the blessed possess God. Love and joy suppose the presence of the Trinity and it is by the intellectual act that this special pres-ence is effected. While we do not deny that love and delight are necessary to perfect happiness, we submit that their root must be vision, since one cannot love and enjoy what he does not know. Hence, the first root o~ essential glory itself must be the intuitive sight o[ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Suarez' attempt at conciliation is commendable but inadequate. If intellect and will bear diverse relations to essential glory, they can hardly both be the root of it. Garrigou-Lagrange pointed to the weakness of the Suarezian view: Intelligence and will are two faculties, specifically distinct, and therefore unequal. The will is subordinated to the in-telligence which directs it. The will is carried on to a true real good, but only on condition that it follows the right judgment of the intellect, a judgment conformable to reality. We desire only what we know, and we do not rejoice except in a good which we possess. Joy does not constitute the possession, but presupposes the possession. Hence, intelligence and will are not equal in the possession of God. They arise in order, one after the other. By vision the soul possesses God. By love it enjoys Him, rests in Him, prefers Him to itself.1" Our faith on earth is so orientated to eventual vision that one who believes may be said already to possess final glory in its seed: "He who believes in the Son has everlasting file." 16 Just as faith is the first step in the divine encounter on earth, so is vision .the first root o[ its final completion in heaven. Light o[ Glory The sight of God in His intimate triune nature is so staggering an activity that no creature, no most lofty angel, no Mary even can by native power attain it. So truly does this God dwell in a light inaccessible that no wildest hope of man could grasp even a flickering spark of it. For He is "the blessed and only sovereign, the king of kings and lord of lords, who alone has immortality and dwells in light inaccessible, whom no man has seen or can see.17 If, then, man is to attain one day to the indwelling :*Mt 5:8; Jn 17:3; I Cor 13:12; I Jn 3:2. LiIe Everlasting, p. 221. X°Jn 3:36; see also Jn 5:24 and 6:47 for the same idea. Tim 6:15-6. consummation of direct sight, his intellect must neces-sarily be elevated above its utter native incapacity in order to be able to make the leap into infinite beauty. The gap between creature and Creator is limitless. Only God can bridge it. Only He can do something to the created intellect to make the intuitive vision possible. Only Light can cause light. What He does to the intel-lect theologians call the light of glory. And it is the light of glory that transforms the divine inhabitation from the realm of faith to that of vision. Sacred Scripture furnishes a basis for our theological speculations. Although we cannot confidently hold that the ancient Hebrew knew much about the beatific vi-sion, we can assert that he said many things that fit this vision as a glove fits a hand. Among his remarks we may single out as singularly appropriate here the words of Psalm 35:9-10: "From your delightful stream you give them to drink. For with you is the fountain of life, and in your light we see light." It is eminently true that man drinks of the best gifts of the Trinity's delightful stream when finally he drinks from the intuitive vision of .the divine essence. This is the fountain of life, everlasting life. And it is precisely in the divine light that we see light. It is the Word who enlightens the intellect of all men both on eart'hxs and in heaven that they may believe by faith and see in vision. The eternal city needs no creaturely light for this same incarnate Word is its light and the blessed live by the light He gives: "The city has no need of the sun or the moon to shine upon it. For the glory of God lights it up, and the Lamb is the lamp thereof. And night shall be no more, and they shall have no need of light of lamp, or light of sun, for the Lord God will shed light upon them; and they shall reign forever and ever." 19 What is this light of glory that so transfigures the human intellect that man beholds his divine Guests just as they are? It is called light, surely, not because it is a refined sort of energized quanta, but because by analogy with natural light which makes colors and bodies visi-ble it renders the divine essence "seeable" by the created intellect. This lumen gloriae is not uncreated Light, pure intelligibility, subsistent truth, God. Rather it is a created participation in uncreated Light. It is drawn from our supernature, sanctifying grace, and it perfects and elevates the intellect intrinsically, thus rendering it apt for the intuitive vision. The knowing strength of the created intellect is completely unable of itself to reach out and bridge the infinite gap between it and subsist- ~Jn 1:9. 1~ Apoc 21:23-4; 22:5. ÷ ÷ ÷ Consummation VOLUME 27, 1968 4. Thomm $.~. REVIEW FOR' RELIGIOUS ~0 ent light and so the latter must bend down and raise the Creaturely intellect to the level of the beatific vision and render, it capable of "attaining the divine essence. We may say, too, that the light of glory disposes.the in-tellect for union with the divine essence as the im-pressed species disposes the same. intellect for the act of natural knowledge. Because of this disposition the splen-dor of the divine essence will not dazzle or wound the intellect (as the sun wounds sight .if directly gazed upon), for the intellect is not a sense and it has been elevated. So marvelous is this elevation that it makes man godlike and hence a very member of the divine family: "Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is." 20 In the act of vision, however, there is no impressed species that determines the intellect, no created simili-tude that takes the place of. or represents God, for noth-ing created can represent Him as He is. Even the most perfect created likeness of God must be more unlike than like Him. Rather the divine essence itself takes the place of the species of similitude, but it does not inform the intellect as an accident. Moreover, the divine essence also takes the place of the expressed species, that is, the concept or idea produced by the intellect and in which the intellect knows a created object. In the beatific vision there is no created word or concept, because if there were, knowledge of earth and knowledge of heaven would differ only in degree, not in kind. And further, the presence of a created idea between the intellect and the Trinity would weaken if not destroy the immediacy and directness Sacred Scripture demands in the terms it uses. to de-scribe essential glory: "face to face.as I have been known., just as he is." Clear Intuition The knowledge of faith is essentially dark, obscure, in a mirror--and a very imperfect mirror at that. The knowledge of vision is essentially bright, clear, direct. The New Testament itself insists on this contrast: "We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I have been known.Always full of courage, ~then, and knowing that while .we are in the body we are exiled from the Lord--for we walk by faith and notby sight." 21 , " 1 Jn $:2. zt I Cor 13:12; 2 Cor 5:6-7. What does this clarity mean? Severa! things. We have already remarked that in the beatific vision the blessed do not see God as represented in some bril-liant idea they form of Him. No matter how brilliant a created idea may be, it shall always be more unlike God than like Him. Hence, dear intuition means that noth-ing will stand between the intellect and the divine es-sence. After the hypostatic union there is no physical intimacy with the divine .so dose as the indwelling of vision. Clarity means likewise that the knowledge of the blessed will not be through effects produced by God in creation or in the soul. Knowledge through effects is highly imperfect and obscure. If one saw footsteps on a beach leading to a discarded suit of clothes, a pair of gloves, a watch, and if he had no knowledge at all of the human creature as we know him, he might with some accuracy conclude to the passage of a moving two-footed animal approximately o six feet tall and endowed with intelligence. But his. insight into this strange fellow would be quite imperfect, obscure. Knowledge through effects-is anything but clear. In our example it would be opposed to sitting down with this newly discovered human being, touching him, gazing at him and espe-cially speaking with him and learning what he had ~to say of himself. Vision knowledge is dear. It is face to face, a seeing just.as the object is. Such is the blessed's grasp of the Trinity. Earthbound darkness and obscurity and reasoning are gone. Just clear, intuitive, direct experience. The blessed see the threeness of persons in the unity of nature and they understand that to be God, God must be a trinity: three in person, one in nature. They see the Father in His eternal now begetting His Son in a perfectly intellectual and virginal generation. They see Father and Son breathing forth in mutual love their Gift, the Spirit. They see the Son in the bosom of His Father and His Spirit, the Father in Son and Spirit, and the Spirit in Father and Son. They see this God "just as He is," and lodged in the deepest center of their subjectivity. Non-comprehensiveness We are not God. And only God can sound the depths o[ God. When we say that the blessed see the divine Trinity just as it is, we do not mean that the created elevated intellect can exhaust the inexhaustible. The term, comprehensor, can have two meanings: (1) one who possesses an object by vision; (2) one who sees into an object as far as it is seeable. In the first sense one comprehends when he grasps some truth, say, the simple structure of an atom. In the second sense he compre- 4- VOLUME 27, Z968 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS hends everything knowable about the atom. Some men comprehend the atom in the first sense; no man com-prehends it in the second. The elevated intellect of the blessed grasps the Trinity in the first sense but not in the second. Even the soul of Christ does not comprehend the divine essence exhaustively32 The finite cannot en-compass the infinite3~ Yet this raises a problem. How can we reconcile this nonexhaustiveness of essential glory with the simplicity of God? It would seem that if one sees an utterly part-less, simple being at all, he would have to see Him comprehensively. Theologians would ask, how can God be known "totus sed non totaliter--whole but not wholly?" The usual answer is that the infinite simplicity of God demands that He be known totus, whole, for other-wise He would not be seen "just as He is." But consider-ing the principle of the vision, the created intellect raised by the light of glory, the act cannot drink all of the divine intelligibility, non totaliter, not wholly: "Every being is knowable to the extent that it is a being in act. God, therefore, whose to be is infinite is infinitely knowable. Now no created intellect can know God infinitely." ~4 Degrees in Glory An immediate consequence of the inexhaustibility of the divine Trinity is the possibility of created intellects and wills knowing, loving, and enjoying Him in vary-ing degrees. If a fountain were endlessly deep, diversely shaped buckets could draw varying amounts of water. So with the Fountain. But tempting as this explanation may be, the reason the blessed drink diversely is not that their intellects are differently "shaped," that is, of un-equal natural capacities, for essential glory is no natural matter. Nor does the diversity arise from the object seen, for it is one and .the same Trinity. Nor is our problem explained by supposing more or less perfect similitudes of God---there are none in the beatific vision. The ex-planation must be related to merit and grace, for these are the roots of glory. St. Thomas offers several reasons for the diversity among the elect. Since the light of glory is a principle of the vision, and since the measure of this light is the measure of the vision, and since there are degrees in the perfection of this light, one soul is more completely m The Council of Basle condemned a proposition affirming this idea. ~ This non-comprehensiveness of the beatific vision is indicated too by the inequality in the perfection of the vision among the elect. --4 I, q.12, a.7. enlightened than another even though both see the same Trinity:25 "Therefore, the intellect participating more in the light of glory will see God more perfectly. But he will participate more in the light of glory who has the greater love, because where love is greater, desire is also the greater and desire in some fashion makes the desirer apt and fit for receiving the sought object. Hence, he who has more love will see God more perfectly and be more happy." 26 Approaching the problem from another point of view, Thomas points out that in any type of reality in which one thing causes another like it (for example, fire and heat) that which is closest to the supreme source of the perfection shares most in it. Because God most perfectly sees Himself, the soul closest to Him Will participate most in His light. From still another vantage point the Angelic Doctor notes that since the end is proportioned to the means, those who are better prepared by the means (in this case, the virtues) will share more in the end, in this case the intellectual vision, love and delight in the divine substance.2Z Eternal Novelty The intuitive vision of the Trinity dwelling in the bosom of the elect is never dull. Even more, it cannot be dull. Created joys can become commonplace, stale, flat, wearying, but never this one. The weariness and even disgust that arise in extended sense pleasures are due to an overstimulation of an expendable (because material) faculty. Such overstimulation, however, is im-possible in any purely intellectual activity because there is nothing material in it, and especially is it impossible in the purely intellectual activity of the beatific vision, for the divine substance, far from weakening the in-tellect, marvelously perfects it. In this vision there is never a lessening of delight and joy.2s This same conclusion can be reached from a consider-ation of the inexhaustible beauty of the Trinity. "Noth-ing," remarks St. Thomas, "that is gazed upon with won-der can be distasteful, because as long as wonder remains, desire does also. The divine substance is always seen with wonder by any created intellect because no created intellect comprehends it. Therefore it is impos-sible that an intellectual substance would find that vi-sion become dull." 29 On an infinitely lower level we can Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.58. I, q.12, a.6. Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.58. Ibid., c.62, n.7. Ibid., n.8. 4. 4. 4- Consummation VOLUME 27, 1968 233 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS see this reasoning in'the differences in hhman personali-ties. A dull person' soon tires us with his conversation and presence~ while one deeply rich in talent, knowledge, and goodness charms us for hours on end. Because He is infinitely rich God charms the blessed for an infinite eternity. St. Bonax;enture encourages the wayfarer with the prospect of this radiance unadorned: Then shall your delight overflow in that unspeakable vision of the divine brilliance; then will you marvel at the joyous realization of your own splendor; then will you be magnified in the perfect knowledge of all creatures. 0 stupendous and wonderful contemplationl O delightful and charming vis, ion! O joyful and unutterable sight.~ Love Fulfillment The psychological experience of men indicates that the knowledge of a good and beautiful person is nor-mally followed by the disposition to love. But no matter how good or beautiful the creature may be we always remain free to choose the act of love or not. Love for a created person does not necessarily follow on the knowl-edge of him. In the beatific vision, however, the elect are so enthralled by their experience that they neces-sarily embrace the three indwelling Guests in the act of beatific love. Loves on earth are free because they al-ways follow on the perception of an imperfect good (which as such cannot necessitate the will) or i~t least a good that is viewed as mixed with some hardship or dis-advantage. But the love that flows out of the intuition of unmixed, perfect goodness is necessary It is also continual---one eternal, uninterrupted act. The.beatific love of Father, Soia, and Holy Spirit is not interfered with by other acts and affections of the blessed because the divine essence clearly seen is the mo-tive for all these other activities. The love-clasp with the indwelling Trinity is, therefore, the perfect fulfillment of man's desire to love and be loved. It is es~pecially here that St. Paul's observation is .true, "he who clea-~es to the Lord is one spirit with him." al The blessed clings to his triune God abiding in his soul through one eternal love rooted in the divine loveableness sought both for itself and for the blessed. This love is likewise total. Man is absorbed in ,the Trinity as a sponge is saturated in an ocean. When St. Thomas discusses the totality of beatific love he makes three distinctions because there are three elements ifi the act of love: the lov~r, the beloved, and the love. If the totality of beatific love refers to the last named, that is, ~ Soliloquium, c.2, n.25. ~ I Cor 6:17. to the act of love, the elect do not love God totally, be-cause the measure of the act of love is taken in a com-parison between the lover's capacity and the beloved's goodness. Obviously the divine goodness infinitely sur-passes the creature's capacity to love it. In this sense only God can love Himself totally. But if totality refers to the 'beloved, the elect do love the Trinity totally, because there is nothing in the divine essence that they do not see and love. Beatific love clasps the whole that is God. So also if totality is understood of the lover, the blessed do love totally, since, they withhold nothing of their capacity to embrace Father, Son, and Spirit.as They pour out their whole being in this perduringly final consummation of the great commandment, for now in-deed do they love the Lord their God with their whole heart and with their whole soul and with their whole strength and with their whole mind. Continuous Actuality More needs to be said of the uninterrupted actuality of the interpersonal relations of eternity. The beatific vision is poles apart from the Buddhist nirvana. In the latter concept there is a loss of personal consciousness as one is absorbed into the divine. Christian essential glory cannot be oblivion; it cannot even be a passive state. It tingles with actuality. Any being is perfect insofar as it is actual, since a mere potentiality is imperfection. But by definition es-sential glory or beatitude is man's last and consummate perfection. Now the last and ultimate perfection of any agent is to operate'---so much so that a thing exists for the sake of its operation. Therefore, since man is very much an agent and especially so through his intellect and will, his ultimate destiny cannot be a mere inert-ness, nor even a mere habit. It must be an intense but calm act. Our destiny is dynamic. The perfection of this calm intensity requires that it be unique and continuous. Our happiness on earth is neither unique nor continuous nor everlasting, for we are engaged in one round of a hundred different activi-ties ~rom one end of the day to the other. Because hap-piness is the more perfect as it is more one and con-tinuous, "there is (even on earth) less happiness in the active life, whida is concerned about many things, than in the contemplative, which deals with one, that is the contemplation of truth." 3~ In this unin.terrupted actuality of vision man finally 3 Sent., dist.27, q.3, a.2. 1-2, q.3, a.2, ad 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 27, 1968 4. + Thomas Dubay S.M. REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS reaches an entire fulfillment of the crucial command-ment of the Christian dispensation, the love of God with one's whole soul, mind, heart, and strength. It is in this essential glory that the rational creature will love God with his whole heart, when his entire purpose is directed to God in all that he thinks, loves, or does; with his whole mind, when his mind always and actually is borne toward God in seeing Him continually and judging all things in Him according to the divine truth; with his whole soul, when all his affection is directed to loving God continuously and all other things are loved for His sake; with all his strength and powers, when the reason for all his ex-terior acts will be the love of God.u The elect's communion with his inabiding God is, there-fore, a consummate perfection of continuous actuality. Eternal Nozo When Sacred Scripture refers to our final victory it uses a variety of words to indicate its unfailing charac-ter: everlasting, imperishable, eternal, unfading: "These will go into everlasting punishment, but the just into everlasting life. And everyone in a contest abstains from all things--and they indeed to receive a perishable ~rown, but we an imperishable.Our present light affliction, which is for the moment, prepares for us an eternal weight of glory that is beyond all measures; while we look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal . When the Prince of the shepherds appears, you will receive .the unlading crown of glory." 35 Our indwelling delight that awaits us, therefore, is not merely future. It is a limitless, unending, non-successive joy in perfect good. It is a drinking of beauty, a seeing of light that known no termination. Beatitude would not be man's last end, his entire ful-fillment, if it were not perpetual. We necessarily desire to live and love and delight forever. If we were to sus-pect that the beatific love might cease even after a bil-lion ages, a clond would be cast over the experience. Furthermore, a cessation in any vision must be due either (a) to a failure in the human faculty, or (b) to the will of the one seeing not to see, or (c) to a removal of the object seen. But none of these is possible in the elect who gaze upon the Trinity lodged in their souls. Their intellect as a spiritual faculty is incapable of cor-ruption and failure and so is the light of glory which elevates it. The elect cannot will not to contemplate the loveliness of their inabiding Lord any more than they Thomas Aquinas, De perlectione vitae spiritualis, c.4. Mt 25:46; 1 Cor 9:25; 2 Cor 4:17-8; 1 Pt 5:4. could wish to be unhappy. They are clinging to limitless beauty and cannot let go. Nor can the object of their contemplation be removed, for God cannot change and He will not withdraw what He has given as long as we do not first withdraw from Him.3~ And, as we have just noted, the elect cannot withdraw from their cling-ing to the Trinity. The Angelic Doctor delved even more deeply into this mystery of man's participation in the eternity of the eternal when he pointed out that the elects' immobile enjoyment of the Trinity derives from the intimacy of their union with immobility itself: The more anything is close to God, who is utterly immutable, the less is it mutable and the more is it persevering. But no creature can draw more closely to God than in seeing His sub-stance. Therefore, the intellectual creature who sees the sub-stance of God attains a supreme immobility and consequently cannot ever fall away from that vision.~7 We may describe the eternity of beatific joy by styling it a new moment that is always new. It is a simultaneous entirety always freshly crisp. It is forever novel in the best sense of the term. The tangible pleasures of earth are exactly the opposite. They soon wilt and grow old. They are always successive and therefore partial in their very nature~ They soon lose their freshness and novelty; eventually they bore. "Everyone in a contest abstains from all things--and they indeed to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable. We look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal." 3~ Harmony of Impeccabilit7 Implicit in all that we have just said is the calm pro-portion, tranquil integrity, smooth harmony flowing into the elect's being from the sight of Father, Son, and Spirit. The blessed cannot see God and leave Him. They cannot sin. On earth we can know God by reason and faith and still offend Him. We can even reject Him. But this is due to the fact that our knowledge is obscure, partial, as in an imperfect mirror. We do not now see beauty just as He is. In the intuitive vision of eternity, however, the elect see the very essence of goodness with no admixture of disadvantage or difficulty. It is a clear, complete en-counter with goodness itself. The will is filled. It cannot say no. It cannot sin. Summa contra Gentiles, 3, c.62, n.5. Ibid., n.10. I Cot 9:25; 2 Cor 4:18. + + VOLUME 27, 1908 4. 4. 4. Thomas Dubay $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Completing De, light The consummating perfection of indwelling glory is delight. The blessed cling to the Trinity with their in-tellects and love their Guests with their wills, Crowning this essential glory is the consequent joy, a sharing in the very joy of the Lord: "Enter into the joy of thy~ master," He will tell us.89 It is an unimaginable good: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what~.things God has prepared for those who love him." 40 This delight is not the essence of beatitude but a con-comitant of it. Delight is joined to beatitude as conse-quent upon it, as a consummation of it.41 It completes Vision and love as beauty Completes youth and vigor. Though we on earth can never reach an adequate appreciation of this crowning delight, we can deepen our understanding by contrasting it with what a merely natural last end for the human race would have been. Had there been no elevation to the supernatural grace-glory economy, our knowledge of God would have been the inferred, partial, obscure reflection of the divine in creation. Our love would have been natural, too, based on this effects-to-cause understanding. Our joy could not have transcended the same plane. Our actual destiny, however, unimaginably surpasses all this. The knowledge of the elect is not partial, ob-scure, effect-to-cause, but a'direct seeing of the Cause in Himself just as He is. Their love corresponds to this vastly superior knowing and is itself necessarily more in-tense, more lofty, more supremely delightful. It is a very entrance into the joy Of the Master, a godly thing, a thrust into the very bosom Qf joy. It is an experience that defies all description, fo~: man cannot imagine what things God has prepared for those who love Him. He has prepared Himselfl Risen 'Body , Though the beatific vision is essential glory, it is not all'of our indwelling mystery of eternity. The temple of the. Trinity is itself to be transfigured body and soul, that it might become at last a worthy habitation for the divine purity within. It is a transfiguration modeled after the very pattern of the risen body of the Word, who "will refashion the body of our lowliness, conform-ing it to the body of his glory." 42 It is a glorification like. that of Jesus who "was transfigured before them. Mt 25:21. 1 Cot 2:9. 1-2, q.3, a.4, c. Phil 3:21. And his face shone as the sun, and his garments b~- came white as snow." 43 It is a state described by St. Paul when he said that "thEre is one glory~bf the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another of the stars; for star differs from star in glory. So also with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown in corruption rises in incorruption; .what is sown in dishonor rises in glory; what is sown in weakness rises in power; what is sown a natural body rises a spiritual body." 44 Our risen temples shall be incorruptible, impassible, brilliant, agile, spiritualized--and all because of the Spirit within them: "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, then he who raised Jesus Christ from the dead will also bring to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who dwells in you." 48 The qualities of the risen body shall stem ~rom the perfection of its subjection to the soul. The original body-soul harmony found in the innocent Adam will be restored together with gifts even he never had. And all of this will be caused by the indwelling Spirit. The soul is transfigured by the facial sight of the indwelling Trinity and the transformed soul in turn transfigures the body. The transfiguration is passed.from one to the other in a manner analogous to that in which a glowing red coal receives fire from a cause and then transmits its glow to a second coal. St. Paul closely ties the transfiguring spiritualization of the risen body to 'the indwelling mysteky: it is the Spirit within Who spiritualizes man's flesh even on earth. and causes his eventual resurrection in heaven: "You, however, are not carnal but spiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you. But if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, then he who raised Jesus Ghrist from the dead will also bririg to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit Who dwells in you." 40 By some mysterious power the abiding Spirit shall so transfigure our mortal temples that they will shed the imperfections of their earthly state. What qualities shall the indwelling Spirit leave in His risen temple? Theology follows St. Paul and distin-ghishes four. The gift of subtility is a more complete subjection of the body to the spirit so that the risen body no longer impedes the activities of the Spirit. For St. Thomas sub-tility does not include the power of the risen body to be in the same place with another body, since this gift does not remove dimensions from the body and it is ~s Mt 17:2. u 1 Cor 15:41-4. ~s Rom 8:11. ~e Rom 8:9,11. VOLUME 27, 1968 239 4, 4, 4, Thomas Duba~ S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS due to dimensive quantity that bodies must occupy diverse sites. Hence, the power of the risen body to penetrate another material being arises from a special divine intervention. Other theologians, however, see compenetration as a consequence of the gift of subtil-ity. Though the risen body continues to resist other bodies (Christ could be touched after the Resurrection), at the same time it can Penterate them (He rose through the tomb and entered the cenacle through closed doors). Thus it remains a body and is palpable, but becomes like a spirit and can coexist together with other bodies. The gift of agility, the rapid motion of the body at the wish of the soul, stems from our principle that the risen body is perfectly subject to the Spirit-glorified soul that has transformed it. The explanation given by the An-gelic Doctor relates the two gifts of subtility and agility to this one fact. "The soul is united to the body," says Thomas, "not only as its form but also as its mover, and in both ways the glorified b6dy must be supremely subject to the glorified soul. Therefore, just as by the gift of subtility it is .totally subject to the soul insofar as the latter is the form of the body giving it its specific essence, so also by the gift of agility the body is subject to the soul as to its moving principle, namely, that the body be free and fit to obey the spirit in all its move-ments and actions."47 In this manner the risen body of Christ enjoyed the gift of agility, for it was perfe~ctly subject to His soul as we learn through His various ap-pearances and disappearances in different places and through His ascension into heaven. In the elect, therefore, agility means that the risen body will be freed by the indwelling Trinity from the burden by which it is now prevented from readily mov-ing whither the soul desires. As St. Augustine puts it: "we shall abide in such bodies that wherever we will to be and whenever we will to be, there shall we be." 4s This is the power of which St. Paul speaks when he says that the body which is sown in weaknessrises in power. Incorruptibility or impassibility is a gift whereby, the glorified body is likened to a spirit in the double inca-pacity to suffer or to die. By nature the human soul cannot disintegrate, be ill, or die. By privilege and by incorporation into the risen Christ the elect shall never taste illness, corruption, or death, in their bodies: "What is sown in corruption rises in incorruption." By the gift of brilliance the blessed shall shine as the sun with a splendor that overflows from the joy o[ the '~ Suppl., q.87, a.1, c. ~sSermon 242, c. 3, n. 5; P.L. 38:1140. St. Thomas held (contrary to Suarez' opinion) that this movement is very rapid but not instan-taneous; see Suppl., q.87, a.3. soul in gazing upon the divine beauty and splendor. This brilliance will be like that of Jesus Himself in the Transfig