Suchergebnisse

Issue 30.3 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 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 RI~VIEW Fog R~LIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University. the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1971 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. I'ublished for Review flw Religious at Nit+ Royal & (;uilford Ave. Baltimore, Md. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage lmid at Bahimnre. Maryland and at additional mailin~ offices. Single copies: $1.2.'3. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a yeitr, Sl 1.0(} for two yeats: olher countries: $7.00 a year. $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REvmw vog RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent gEvmw t'og RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW EOa RELIOIOUS; P. O. Box 1110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Buildings; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. MAY 1971 VOLUME 30 NUMBER 3 JOHN R. SHEETS, S.J. Profile of the .Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits For various reasons the subject of what is traditionally known in Christian spirituality as discernment of spirits is coming to the fore. The literature on the subject is growing.1 Without pretending to discover something new we hope to add another point of view to the traditional way of looking at the discernment of spirits. Ordinarily the idea of discernment of spirits is con-cerned for the most part with the interior motions in the individual.2 With tbe help of prayer, purification, and spiritual direction one attempts to sift out the various movements to see what is genuinely prompted by the Holy Spirit from what is alien, in order to come to a decision in accord with the movement of the Spirit. The emphasis in discernment has been located mainly in the individual subject and with the attempt to discern the various elements at work in himself. Today, however, it seems necessary to bring out other complementary 1 See the excellent study lgnatian Discernment by John Carroll Futrell, S.J., "Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits," n. 2 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970). In the third footnote of this work there is a select bibliography of works on discernment. -" "Discernment. involves choosing the way of the light of Christ instead of the way of the darkness of the Evil One and living out the consequences of this choice through discerning what specific decisions and actions are demanded to follow Christ here and now. The diakrisis pneumatfn---discernment of spirits--is a 'sifting through' o1: interior experiences in order to determine their origin and to discover which ones are movements toward following the way of light" (Futrell, Ignatian Discernment, p. 47). j. R. Sheets, S.J., teaches in the De-partment of Theol-ogy of Marquette University in Mil-waukee, Wisconsin 53233 VOLUME .~0, 1971 363 4. 4. 1. R. Sheets, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 364 aspects in order to do justice to a wider view of man. There has to be a broader view of discernment of spirits to keep pace with a developing Christian anthropology. We would like to view discernment as the two mutually interdependent loci of an ellipse. Traditionally only one of the loci has received attention: the subject and the internal movements of his soul. This view has to be com-plemented with the other focus of ~ttention which is concerned with what is "ahead of" the subject. This takes into consideration the term of all discern-ment which is closer ~znion while not neglecting the origins of the movement. It emphasizes discernment as a way of seeing the convergence of various elements to effect greater union. It lays stress on the "Spirit-ahead" of us, calling us, rather than concentrating only on the "Spirit-behind-us," moving us from within. Further, it brings out the fact that discernment is not simply a way for one's own spiritual advancement, but that it has a larger dimension. It is the way that history becomes weighted with the power of the Spirit, the way that the Spirit inserts Himself into the movement of history, giving it a Christic orientation. Instead of what can often be simply self-analysis it pints the emphasis on the char-acteristics o~ the Holy Spirit which form a profile against which we project the incipient movements in ourselves. Discernment, therefore, is a process of seeing incipient growth of the Spirit, distinguishing this from what is in reality incipient death. It is like trying to see the face of someone at a distance. That is only possible if one is well acquainted with the "face of the Spirit" before one at-tempts to recognize Him from a distance. For this reason in the last section of what follows we have tried to sketch the main features of His face. Discernment, therefore, has to do with the pneumatic self, the spirited self. Too often, however, it is looked upon as some kind of a supernatural psychoanalysis. We approach a spiritual phenomenon with an attitude and apparatus that are unspiritual, as if we had some kind of a water witch to detect where the genuine fountains lie. We must approach the spiritual spiritually. Discernment is related to human prudence but is not identified with it. Through discernment we try to see how the Spirit-ahead is drawing things into a Christic focus. The place where all of these converge is the epiphany of the Spirit. The tighter the convergence the closer the union, and the more does the Spirit place His imprint on the self and on history. This type of discernment is not simply a good prudential judgment. It does not arise out of the data presented, though it makes use of all the data. It is a judgment which is the result of an encounter of the Holy Spirit from above with the human spirit from below. It is larger than the data though it makes use of all the data. It involves not only good sense but an affinity with the person of the Spirit and empathy with His goals. Human prudence is also a judgment about convergence, but it arises entirely from a correct assessment of the data. There is not anything in the prudential judgment which was not in some way in the data before. Prudence draws the various elements into a judgment for action by draw-ing them into a human focus. Spiritual discernment draws them into a Christic focus. The two processes of judging are related to one another in a way analogous to the re-lationship of reason to faith. This also helps us see how the Christic focus can be achieved even though, after doing all that is possible, the human focus fails. This is the mystery of Christ's Passion and Resurrection. Failure, frustration, death o1: the hu-man point of focus can be taken up into the Christic focus and result in an even greater epiphany of the Spirit. Before we attempt to draw up some norms for the dis-cernment of spirits, it will be helpful to present very briefly some preliminary ideas concerning (1) the need for discernment, (2) the difficulty, (3) the dynamics of dis-cernment, namely, the presence of the Spirit in the Christian, (4) the moments and the modalities of dis-cernment. The Need for Discernment Discernment is necessary to answer the fundamental question: Along which path does life lie, not life simply as existence, but life in greater abundance? All discern-ment is a matter of determining the path of life from the path of death: "And you are to say to this people, 'Yahweh says tiffs: Look, I now set in front of you the way of life and the way of death' " (Jr 21:8). The difficulty comes from the fact that the path of death simulates that of life. The very first temptation presented in Scripture shows the need for discernment. The life offered by God is presented as death, and the death offered by the serpent is presented as life: "You would not die at all: for God knows that the very day you eat of the tree your eyes will be opened, and you will be like gods who know good from evil" (Gn 4:5). In the Old Testament two main types of discernment are shown to be necessary: the necessity of the prophet to discern within himself what comes from God's word from his own "dream," 3 and secondly the need for the people n"The prophet who has a dream, let him tell a dream; and he who has a word, let him speak my word faithfully, says the Lord. What has the chaff in common with the wheat? says the Lord" (Jr 23:28). There ~ire many places where the prophets distinguish what comes from them and what comes from God; /or example, Am 7:2-9,15; 8:1-2; Mi 7:!-10; Is 6:5-12; 16:9-11. 4- + + Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 1971 365 4. 4. 4. ]. R. Sheets, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~66 to discern the false prophet from the true.4 The experi-ence of Elijah is a paradigm for the discernment of spirits. He did not find God in any of the commotions ordinarily associated with a divine epiphany, the wind, earthquake, fire, but in the gentle breeze, which was the least likely form of God's manifestation (1 Kg 19:9-13). In the New Testament there is much more stress than in the Old on the need for discernment. Christ Himself as filled with the Holy Spirit is the discerner: "And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wis-dom and understanding, a spirit of counsel and power, a spirit of knowledge and of the fear of Yahweh. (The fear of Yahweh is his breath.) He does not judge by appear-ances, he gives no verdict on hearsay." (is 11:2-3). He discerns the temptation of the evil one in the desert, the activity of the devil in Judas, and the evil hearts of those who want to kill Him (see Jn 8:33-4). He discerns His own heart as always open to the Father: "I always do what is pleasing to him" (Jn 8:29). He stressed the need for dis-cernment because there will be many who claim His own authority to speak (see Mt 24:6). John stresses the fact that spiritual phenomena in the Church have to be discerned: "But do not trust any and every spirit, nay friends; test the spirits, to see whether they are from God" (I Jn 4:1). He goes on to describe the norm for discernment: "Every spirit which acknowl-edges that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God, and every spirit which does not thus acknowledge Jesus is not fi-om God." The Holy Spirit speaks one word wlxich is rich in its tonality: Christ. Botl~ in lais own life and in his instructions to others Paul emphasizes the need for discernment. The point can-not be developed here, but it would be instructive to study Paul's own life as one who discerns the Spirit. Surely the advice he gave to the Galatians was lived first of all in his own life: "If the Spirit is the source of our life, let the Spirit also direct our course" (Ga 5:25).~ He insists constantly on the need for discernment in the lives of the Christians. Often he uses the word dokimazo which means to test, prove: "Try to discover what the Lord wants of you, having nothing to do with the futile works o1: darkness bnt exposing them by con-trast" (Ep 5:10-1). "Bring all to the test" (I Th 5:21). 4 This is a favorite theme in the prophets Isaiah, Jeremiah, aud Ezekiel. See, for example, Is 28:7-13; 29:15-24; 56:9-12; 57:1-5; Jr 5:4,31; Ez 13; La 2:14; Ho 4:5; Dt 13:2-3. ~Paul sees his own conscience as cooperating with the Holy Spirit in forming his judgment: "I am speaking the truth as a Christian, and my own conscience, enlightened by the Holy Spirit, assures mc it is no lic: in my own heart there is great grief and unceasing sorrow" (Rm 9:1). The word he uses is "co-witnessing." "Put yourselves to the test" (2 Co 13:5). "A man must ~est himself before eating his share of the bread and drinking from the cup" (1 Co 1'1:28). There is a very special gift of discernment which belongs to the charismatic mani-festations of the Spirit: "There are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit. and another the ability to distinguish true spirits from false" (1 Co 12:4-10). This is the gift o[ discerning whether the spirits are truly spiritual, or evil. Finally he stresses the need for discernment in order to preserve the purity of the Gospel message: "The Spii-it says expressly that in after times some will desert from the faith and give their minds to subversive doctrines inspired by devils." (1 Tm 4:1). Paul sees that it is the evil spirits who are ultimately responsible for the defec-tions from the truth of the Gospel (see 2 Th 2:9-11; 2 Co 2:11). The same idea is brought out when Peter speaks of the fact that there will be false prophets among Christians just as there were among the people of Israel: "But Israel had false prophets as well as true; and you likewise will have false teachers among you" (2 P 2:1). The Scripture, therefore, in both the Old and New Testaments, shows the importance of discernment in two ways: first of all, by showing the practice of discernment in those who bring to ns the word of God (the prophets, Paul, John, Peter, and in an eminent way in Christ Him-self); and secondly by showing the need ~or discernment corresponding to three different ways in which the Spirit acts: through discerning His will for us in our personal lives, through discerning the true Gospel from the false, and through discerning a genuine charism from what is inauthentic. The Di[ficulty oI Discernment Experience shows us that it is no~ easy to discern the spirits. This is the lesson we read in Scripture, in history, and in our own personal lives. This could be developed at length. For the present, however, we would like to comment briefly on the three main sources o[ the dif-ficulty: from the term to which the Spirit is moving, from the sell, and from the circumstances. The term of all activity of the Spirit is toward greater union with Christ and through this toward union with one another. When the union which is aimed at is more personal, it is also more delicate and fragile. In love relationships the bond has more of invitation and less of physical force or compulsion, more freedom, less entrap-ment, more speaking through silence rather than through words, more awareness throngh mutnal attunement than through external signs. This is the first source of the dif- 4- 4" + Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 1971 367. ÷ ÷ ÷ 1. R. Sheets, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ficulty of discernment. We are trying to pick up signals that are invitations to a union that is deeper. The second difficulty comes from the self. Before one can discern, he has to be discerned. He has to allow the Word of God to discern him. He must be purified by the coal from the altar of God's holiness. Religious discern-ment is not simply a matter of finding out right answers, as one does in mathematics; nor is it simply a matter of depth analysis practiced in psychology. Discernment im-plies the docility of heart which is the same as purity of heart. What is being discerned is not simply a truth as an abstraction, but a love-truth. For this reason discern-ment involves not simply knowledge but identification with the truth, and a desire for progressive assimilation. The Holy Spirit is the ~absorbing Spirit. To discern one has to open himself to allow death to be swallowed by life. The difficulty of discernment, therefore, comes from the human heart itself: "The heart is treacherous above all things, and desperately sick--who can understand it?" (Jr 17:9). We are all aware of the proclivity of the hu-man heart to rationalize any position, to overlook what-ever might direct our eyes to the truth, to adapt the truth to ourselves, rather than to adapt ourselves to the truth. The third source of difficulty of discernment comes from the circumstances. Sometimes the issue is so com-plicated that even presupposing openness to the Spirit and purity of heart it is not easy to see where greater union lies. An obvious case is that of discerning one's vo-cation. After one has taken all of the steps necessary, with the proper consultation, he has to let his net down into the unknown with trust in the Spirit who is drawing him. In describing the music of Beethoven someone wrote that when you hear it you have the feeling that the one particular note just had to follow the other, that it was, so to speak, made in heaven. No other note would have fitted the "logic of beauty." This remark about music can easily be applied to the discernment of the note of the Spirit that simply "has to" follow. It is not easy to discern it, but it does follow a sequence that is the "logic of the Spirit." If one is attuned to the Spirit he has a sense for the "logic of the Spirit." The Dynamics of Discernment: The Presence of the Spirit in the Christian We have to recover the New Testament sense of the role of the Spirit in Cltristian life. What the soul of man is to his natural life, the Spirit is to Christian life. The Spirit is the source, guide, atmosphere, tone, pattern of Christian life. Once again we have to content ourselves in the interests of economy of space to some brief allusions to this im-portant truth without developing it at length. The gift of the Spirit sums up the whole purpose of the Messiah's coming (Jn 1:33). The Gospel of St. John stresses the fact that through Christ's passion, death, resur-rection His own body becomes the source for the Spirit. Paul emphasizes the new life of the Christian, with the new dynamics of the Holy Spirit: "The love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which has been given us" (Rm 5:5). The whole of Romans 8 is a description of the new spiritual order of man as contrasted with his old, unspiritual self: "So then, my brothers, there is no necessity for us to obey our unspiritnal selves or to live unspiritual lives" (Rm 8:12). The Spirit we have re-ceived has made us sons (Rm 8:15). He has revealed to our spirit the deep things of God (1 Co 2:10-1). His presence is the proof of what we cannot see, that we are sons of God (Gal 4:6-7). Through him we are renewed (Tt 3:5-6).6 It is important, therefore, to recognize the encompass-ing role of the Spirit. In discerning we are not only trying to discern the presence of the Spirit, but the very process of discerning is from-with-in-by-through the Spirit. It is Spirit as possessed and possessing attempting to discern "Spirit on the way," the movement toward greater and greater union. The Moments and Modalities of Discernment Finally, before taking up the norms for discernment, we want to say a word about the moments and modalities of discernment. By moments we mean the qualities that distinguish in importance different periods of time, either by reason of special gifts of the Spirit or special decisions to be made. Modalities of discernment refer to the various ways in which the spirits are discerned. Not every human moment is a divine moment. Sacred history teaches us that there are certain moments which are kairoi, special moments of grace, where history re-ceives a special impetus of the Spirit. This is true in one's personal life as well as the life of the Church. These are moments of special invitations by the Spirit, of special response, and of special discernment. Further there is a modality of discernment which be-longs to the ordinary day-to-day living of our lives and one which belongs to special occasions. In the ordinary more or less routine events that make up our workaday world, discernment is not conscious or reflective but takes place through the vital dialogue between our new self as OThe Jerusalem Bible in footnote, Rm 5:5, gives an extensive series of references to the doctrine of the Holy Spirit in the New Testament. ,4- 4- 4- Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 1971 369 graced through the Spirit and the circumstances of our lives. The habitual "spiritual set" that comes from the Spirit equips a person with an instinct for the Spirit and spiritual values. On other occasions discernment is conscious, reflective, prolonged, methodical. The rules given by St. Ignatius are among the best known help in this process of con-scious discernment. Under modalities of discernment we could also in-clude personal and group discernment. Personal discern-ment takes place in dialogue with God, the self-as-graced, and the circnmstances. Group discernment adds the social dimension. It can be imagined as a pyramid. Those in-volved have a common base, the dialogue is with God, one another, and the circumstances, searching for the point where all of these converge into the greatest union possible. The main examples of group discernment are the general councils of the Church (see the Council of Jerusalem, Acts 15:28: "It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and our decision"). Other groups with a common bond and goal can engage in discernment. This is differ-ent from group, discussion because it takes place in a whole new order with conscious and constant reference to the communion with God and with one anotl~er in the Spirit. We have spoken of theneed of discernment, especially as this is brought home to us through Scripture, the various difficulties in discernment, the dynamics of dis-cernment which come with a new existence in the Spirit, and the moments and modalities of discernment. With these thoughts as a background we would like to give some norms for the discernment of the presence of the Holy Spirit. They are not expected to be some kind of a handy kit for spiritual discernment. They are an attempt to present a profile of the Spirit so that we can recognize Him when we see Him. We cannot be expected to recog-nize, Him in our inner selves unless we have some idea of what He looks like in Himself. We have taken thirteen characteristics as a help to discernment basing them on the nature of the Spirit Himself. Some Norms for Discernment I. The first norm comes from the fact that the Spirit is ÷ the Holy Spirit. He is the consecrating Spirit, drawing ÷ men and the world into the orbit of God's own life.~ ÷ Holiness is one of those rich words which defies ade-quate description. It means that one's life is inauthentic, ~. R. Sheets, S,]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ The theme of the consecration of Christians is a common one in the New Testament. For example, Rm 15:16, where Paul speaks of his ministry as a life of consecration; 1 Co 6:11; 2 Th 2:13; Rm 8:1-13; 1 Jn 3:7,8; 1 P 2:5. no matter how good a person is, unless it is authenticized with the special life of God, that is, unless the ways of God are incarnated in the ways of man, so that man is not simply made to the image and likeness of God through creation, but is shaped to the inner life of God by be-coming the incarnation of God's ways, that is, His holiness. The sense of consecration has the concomitant feature of bringing an awareness of the desecration in our lives, a sense of sin: "He will confute the world, and show where wrong and right and judgment lie" (Jn 16:8). For this reason, the Holy Spirit will~ never be the in-spirit, the spirit of the times. Though He is the comforting Spirit, he will never be the comfort~ible Spirit. He has to il-lumine darkness, and men do not want their deeds il-lumined. Augustine's remark i~s perennially true: "They love the truth when it enlight,ens; they hate it when it reproves; they love it when it reveals its own self, and they hate it when it reveals themselves." The first rule for discernment, then, is this: Does it bring a greater sense of consecration, an integration of life through holiness, and at tl~e same time the need for purification, the sense of our distance from God? 2. The second norm is dra~n from the fact that the Holy Spirit is Spirit. Everything produces its own likeness as far as possible. The Holy Spirit by His very nature spiritualizes. It is difficult to appreciate what spirit and spiritualiza-tion mean not only because of the depth-nature of spirit, but also because of the false im'pression most people have of spirit. For many spirit means non-human, or less than human, unreal, foreign to the world of man. ~In the Scrip-ture, however, spirit connotes p',ower that is creative, over-powering, sustaining, surprisirfg, inspiring, gentle in its force, but forceful in gentleness' (see Elijah, 1 Kg 19). The spirit puts life into the dry bones of humanity: "I shall put my spirit in you and you shall live" (Ez 37:1). How does an act that is me~'ely human become spiri-tual? It becomes enveloped with, impregnated with a new life. St. Paul describes in detail the spiritual life of the Christian (Rm 8:lff): "The unspiritual are interested only in what is unspiritual, but the spiritual are inter-ested in spiritual things. It is death to limit oneself to what is unspiritual; life and peace can only come with concern for the spiritual" (Rm 8:5,6).s This provides us with the second norm for discerning the presence of the Spirit: is an act more spiritual, that is, does it bear the imprint of the Spirit? This is the same Sin the footnote to Rm 1:9 the Jerusalem Bible presents an extensive list of references to the word "Spirit" in the New Testament both as it pertains to man's spirit and to God's Spirit. + + ÷ Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 371 4, 4, 4, I. R. Sheets, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS paradoxically enough as asking: Is the act more human, because it is the nature of Spirit through His creative power to make things more what they should be by draw-lng them into a new source of authenticity. A spiritual act bears the mark of the new creation. On the contrary, an act that is unspiritual is one that bears the marks of death, inversion, self-centeredness. Admittedly it is diffi-cult to apply this norm in some sort of an empirical fashion. It is a norm which only a spiritual person can apply because he alone can pick up the signals of spiri-tuality. 3. The third norm comes from the fact that the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Truth: "If you love me you will keep my commandments, and I shall ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you forever, the Spirit of Truth, whom the world can never receive since it neither sees nor knows him" (Jn 14:15-17). It is not easy to express all of the nuances in the Scrip-tural word "trnth." We often equate it with a mental category. In Scripture, however, it describes a way of being, or more explicitly, a way of living. It is being-faithful or living faithfully. In God's providence there are four notes that make np the one chord of fidelity: first of all, God's faithfulness to Himself or to His promise, which incarnates itself in Christ who is the manifestation of the Father's fidelity, whose fidelity in turn is poured out among men through the Spirit, who is the Spirit of Fidelity, who in turn creates the Church, which is de-scribed as the "pillar and foundation of the truth" (1 Tm 3:15). Fidelity is a way of being where one's being and acting are shaped by a relationship to a person. The real, the unsubjective, what is there, is allowed to shape one's choices. Fidelity means that the past-self is not a matter of memory but is the present-self. It is the way past identity shapes present and future identity. In philosophy being is the highest expression of what existence means. In Christianity fidelity is the highest expression of the real. In the discernment of spirits it is important to look for the note of fidelity, the degree to which we allow the word of God and His will to shape each moment of our lives, the extent to which we allow the Church as the pillar and foundation of fidelity to mediate to us God's word and will. As a negative norm for discernment any act is to be rejected which makes us less faithful, which loses the sense of the absolute, reducing everything to what is relative, seeing truth in terms only of opinions like conservative, liberal and so forth, embodying an at-titnde which sees truth only from a subjective point of view--all of these are signs that point out the spirit of infidelity, "in whom there is not truth" (Jn 8:44). The Spirit of Fidelity leaves his own stamp of fidelity. 4. In the fourth place, the Spirit of Christ is the eschatological Spirit. He is the Spirit of the Christ-who-has- come and the Christ-who-is-to-come. He is the per-sonal tension of that which is already done in Christ and that which is yet to be done in His members. His whole purpose is to pour forth the gifts that are in Christ: "Ascending on high he gave gifts to men" (Ep 4:8). The Spirit as eschatological gift is the Spirit of Per-spective. He gives us the vision of the relationship be-tween the past event in Christ, our present living out of this event, and' the future fulfillment. He gives, then, a sense of the direction of time and its relationship to eternity, of this world to the next, a sense of what is simply means and what is goal. This serves as a norm for discernment of spirits. Is there a sense of value of eternal life over temporal life, of what is permanent over the transient, of the presence of Christ as .the absolute over the relative, of awareness of the overplus of meaning over non-meaning, of direction over drift in history? Negatively, is there a loss of perspective? Are means made into ends? Is eternal life seen as the climax of love or as an abstraction? It must be confessed that eternal life does not play too large a part in our contemporary mentality. We are like people .who keep throwing life jackets to pull those who are drowning into a sinking ship. 5. In the fifth place, the Spirit of Christ is the Spirit who creates the Christian community. The various terms used for the Church in the New Testament bring out the aspect of community: one body with many members, family, people of God, temple, vineyard, city, spouse. The Holy Spirit creates community by creating unity: "Do all you can to preserve the unity of the Spirit by the peace that binds you together. There is one Body, one Spirit, just as you were called into one and the same hope when you were called" (Ep 4:3). The unity of the Church is not based on common interests, bonds of blood, or even a common goal. The bond is the Spirit who draws the members together through their faith, which is the this-side expressio.n of the inner union of the Spirit with the Father and the Son. This serves as a help to discern the spirits. Does an action tighten the bonds of unity in the community? Negatively, does it bring about division and fragmenta-tion? 6. In the sixth place, the Spirit of Christ is the Spirit of the Word made flesh. He is the sacramental Spirit, the incarnating Spirit, the "material" Spirit. Proceeding from 4- Spirit's Profile VOLUME 30, 373 + + J. R. Shee~s~ $4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 374 the flesh of Christ He draws all flesh into the flesh of Christ: "On the last day and greatest day of the festival, Jesus stood there and cried out: 'If any man is thirsty, let him come to me. Let the man come and drink who believes in me.' As Scripture says: 'From his breast shall flow fountains of living water.' He was speaking of the Spirit which those who believed in him were to receive; for there was no Spirit as yet because Jesus had not yet been glorified" (Jn 7:37-9). Here we see the importance not only of the sacraments formally so called, which in reality are points of Christic concentration, vortices drawing men into°Christ, bnt the drawing presence of the Spirit through all that is material --other people, circumstances, the sacramentals of the Church. In this connection we cannot emphasize enough the importance of sign and symbol as vehicles of the Spirit. The Spirit is a hungry, thirsty Spirit. He draws men through every pore of matter into the flesh of Christ. As a norm, then, to discern the presence of the Holy Spirit we should see to what extent His sacramentalizing presence is brought OUt. Negatively, the Spirit is absent where there is a tendency towards desacramentalizing, a false depreciation of matter, or a false internalization that devalues the drawing power of sign and symbol. 7. The Spirit of Christ is the Family Spirit. The same Spirit of Christ animates Christians of all centuries, cre-ating a kindred Spirit. He creates a basic identity that transcends differences of culture, philosophy, manners, and customs. The Christian is at home with the prophets of the Old Testament, the Apostles of the New, the fathers of East and ¼Zest, and so on through history. As a norm for discernment of spirits it is helpful to ask to what extent some mode of action bears the marks of the kindred Spirit. 8. The Holy Spirit is the charismatic Spiri[. There are two ways in which He distributes His gifts: to the person for the social, and to the social for the person. He gives His gifts to individuals to build up the Church for the person. He gives His gifts to individuals to build up the Church, and gifts to the Church to sanctify persons. He is the author of both types of charism: institutionalized charism, which is the Church, with the special role of the pope and the college of bishops; and the personal charism, given to an individual for the whole Body. It is a sign of the presence of the Spirit where there is due respect for both modes of the Spirit's charismatic presence. Negatively, any spirit which puts these gifts in opposition is not the Holy Spirit. 9. The Spirit of Christ is the Spirit who opens ns to the will of the Father: "He will not speak on his own authority, but will tell only what he hears" (Jn 16:14). The Spirit is "all ears" for the will of the Father. He tries to open our ears to hear His voice. Paul makes this one of his main concerns, that the Christian seek the will of God (Ep 5:17; Col 1:9; 4:12; Ph !:9; 2:13). This acts as a norm of discernment: the extent to which we are concerned with the discovery and the living out of God's will. 10. The Spirit of Christ is the Liberating Spirit: "Now the Lord of whom this passage speaks is the Spirit; and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty" (2 Co 3:17; see Rm 8:1-13). Much has been written about freedom. Unfortunately we have to limit ourselves to a few observa-tions. Freedom is that mysterious power at the heart of a person by which one can open oneself to other selves. It is a power of excentration, bv which the self is given, and other selves are received. It is the way in which life be-comes a sharing of persons, not simply a sharing of things. Christian freedom is a share in Christ's own free-dora through His Spirit, a power to open oneself to the Self of the Father and the Son, and to love others as Christ Himself has loved. It is a sign of the Spirit's presence where there is genuine growth in freedom, which manifests itself in a greater sense of responsibility to the Father and to others. 11. The spirit is the Spirit o[ Christ. His whole work is to reproduce the image of Christ (2 Co 3:17if). If some-thing leads to a greater awareness of Christ, then it comes from the Spirit of Christ. 12. The Spirit of Christ is the Organic Spirit. He is the Spirit who creates nnity through variety. He is the Spirit who gives not only His gifts, but shares His own power to give: "There are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit" (1 Co 12:4). There are two ways to destroy an organic unity, either through dismemberment, or by reduction of differences to make one homogeneous mass. The true Spirit is present where there is respect for the distinctiveness ot~ His gifts and their complementarity. The evil spirit destroys either by dividing or by reducing everything to an nndiffer-entiated mass. 13. Finally, the Holy Spirit is present where he pro-duces the symphony of His life in dae Christian: "What the Spirit brings is very different: love, joy, peace, pa-tience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and selLcontrol" (Gal 5:22). This is another way of saying that He creates the image of Christ. The Spirit is present to the extent that a spiritual harmony is found in one's life. + ÷ ÷ Spirit's Protile VOLUME 30, 1971 375 Conclusion We have perhaps attempted to cover too much in such limited space. Each one of the topics touched on could be expanded indefinitely. We have tried to stress the follow-ing points. We need to see the Spirit not only as working in us and behind our actions, but as the Spirit ahead of us, drawing our lives into a Christic convergence. We have to discern the movements of the Spirit not only from the be-ginnings but from the term. Besides seeing discernment as a means for greater personal union, we have to see it as the way in which history becomes freighted with the Spirit. We stressed the role of the Spirit Himseff in our process of discernment, and familiarity with His personal characteristics in order that we might more readily recog-nize His operations. In this way we can be "transfigured into his likeness, from splendor to splendor. Such is the influence of the Lord who is Spirit" (2 Co 3:18). 4. 4. I. R. Sheets, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS EDWARD J. FARRELL Fraternity and Review of Life For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them (Mt 18:20). ! am longing to see you: I want to bring you some spiritual strength, and that will mean that I shall be strengthened by you, each of us helped by the other's faith (Rm 1 : 11). Your mind must be renewed by a spiritual revolution . You must speak the truth to one another, since we are all parts of one another . let your words be for the improvement of others as occasion offers, and do good to your listeners (Eph 4: 23-9). Let the message of Christ, in all its richness, find a home with you. Teach each other, and advise each other in all wisdom (Col 3: 16). Some years ago, Romano Guardini expressed his con-viction that a basic cause for diminishing faith is our inability or unwillingness to share our faith experiences with one another. Without this sharing, he believed in-dividual faith is weakened. Fifty years later, in the midst of our present theological traumas, a spiritual evolution is happening in the emergence of small-group faith com-munities which I describe as fraternities. What Is a Fraternity? A fraternity is as new and as ancient as this morning's liturgy. It is the fundamental Christian experience. The first fraternity was that begun by Christ in his calling together the Twelve. The fellowship and brotherhood (koinonia) of the early Christian communities were a fraternity experience. Today's fraternity continnes that pattern. A group comes together tO pray, to listen to the word, to share, to be responsible for one another and to one another. Its members celebrate both the present mys-tery of their life in Christ and Christ's life in and through them in the world. In a deep sense, the fraternity lives out the Eucharist in the actuality of the ordinary of life. Openness to Christ in the presence of one another de-velops a givenness to each other. This experience embodies -I- '4- Edward J. Farrell is a s~aff member of Sacred Heart Semi-nary; 2701 Chicago Boulevard; Detroit, Michigan 48206. VOLUME 30, 377 ÷ E. 1. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 378 the true meaning of co-responsibility, and this co-respon-sibility nourishes the grace and charism given to each for the service of all. Through a fraternity one grows in the capacity to see more and more in the light of faith and to draw and call each other to a more complete response to the Father. Fraternity is, simply stated, the actualizing and living out our love for one another through the recognized presence of Jesus in our midst. Why Fraternity? We are caught in a time of great changes in which familiar ctdtural patterns, customs, structures, and guide-lines have been swept away. "Crisis" is on everyone's tongue--crisis in faith, crisis in education, crisis in cities, crisis in marriage. "Crisis" is a good Greek word meaning and signifying judgment, discernment, decision. In that sense, life is a crisis! Because we are free, the human condition will always be in crisis. We are always in proc-ess of growth and development and its dialectic, canght in "overchoice" and "alternate eternities." We are polarized between anonymity and community; alienation and over- .involvement; loneliness and people-suffocation. In the paradox of our life today we need commnnity, perhaps more intense community than ever. We need privacy, a solitude richer than we have ever experienced. Yet too much community stifles and depersonalizes; too much solitude begets a barren and sterile loneliness and alienation. Change generates new perceptions and fresh needs emerge. There are new levels of self-awareness, per-sonal consciousness, the quest for inner freedom, for self-determination, resistance to authority, structnres, systems. Personal relationships have displaced rules. The people yon choose to be with become themselves the structure. In times of transition and instability human institu-tions contract to basic and primary units. There is too great a gap between the large community and close friend-ship and it is into this vacuum that fraternity has moved. It neither displaces or is a substitute for either because both are necessary. Rather it is a response to a new need, a new life situation not previously known. Value of Fraternity A fraternity offers an adult experience of a family. When we were young we could not wait to move out from onr families, and then we spend the rest of our lives seeking and developing a family of friends. This family of friends, a wall of friends, is a need, a human universal which no one ever outgrows. This is not only a human need but a personal right guaranteed by the essence of the Christian experience. Fraternity is built upon the truth that we need an inner commnnity of friends. This faith commtmity is essentially for balance, for matttrity, for continuing growth. In this family of friends one can be wholly himself, loved not io mt~ch, of cottrse, for what he does, but simply that he is. Fraternity is built npon the truth that Christ willed men to be saved by men. We need one another; In fra-ternity we make onr life in Christ visible before our brothers, asking them to hold ns faithful to our call and to our grace. Perhaps the great weakness in ot~r faith life is that it remains too invisible, known only to God in that vertical I-Thou relationship. Fraternity enables that vertical relationship to touch the horizontal life where Christ must be made visible. In nay own experience, the first effect of fraternity is to help me in fidelity. "How often have I seen myself in a mirror and walked away, forgetting what manner of man I am." The common sin of good religious is non-response to grace. It is not a matter of being bad priests or sisters, but it is plateat~ing year after year in a slowly contract-ing self-gravitational orbit. The grace of fraternity is to enable one to break out of that orbit and to be given that thrust which is impossible to attain alone. Size o[ Fraternity The size of a fraternity is conditioned by the psycho-logical limits of relationship. No one can relate deeply to twenty people at the same time. The group range is generally from eight to twelve persons. There may be several fraternities in the same honse. There is no com-pnlsion to belong. Fraternity does not mean a clique. It stands rather for inclt~siveness not for exchlsion. There can be both diversity and spirit of t, nity. Everyone will benefit; those not in a fraternity will belong by affinity. Growth in Fraternity Week after week one becomes aware of the effort an-other is making and the prayer he is living. Each one sees another in his strnggle and becomes aware that when he fails he is in some way allowing the others to fail. No one's faith can be lived in isolation. What one does af-fects all. Fraternity brings home with unassailable impact that we are brothers and are entrusted with ultimate responsibility for each other. I deeply know that as I go, so they go; as they go, so go I. Growth in ,'i faith com-munity is growing together in Christ through one an-other. Review o~ Life The dynamic of a fraternity is called a review of life. Every fraternity meeting is like the meeting on the road to Emmaus. Like the disciples we are "deep in conversa-÷ 4. 4. Fraternity VOLUME .30, 1971 379 4. 4. 4. E. .J. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 380 tion about everything that has happened. And while they were absorbed in their serious talk and discussion, Jesus himself approached and walked along with them." Like the disciples, "the Scriptures are made plain to us" and "all that has happened" takes its right place in God's plan. "Our eyes are opened and we recognize Jesus walk-ing beside us, when he broke bread." The review of life rests on one fundamental fact: God acts through the events or at least through certain events and experiences of our life to become present to us, to manifest His love and bring us to renew and deepen our union with Him. The review of life helps us to discover the presence of Jesus and His expectations of us in all the aspects of our life. It develops our fraternal openness and brings us to a more total giving of ourselves to God. Each member becomes the responsibility of the others. It forms in us the habit of seeing everything in the light of faith and draws us to a fuller response to the will of our Father. The review of life is the reading of our weekly experi-ences in the light of the word of God. The quality of our review of life will be in real dependence on the qual-ity of our life of prayer and our familiarity with the word of God. The review of life is not an examination of conscience. It is essentially an effort to look together at our life and to what Jesns is calling us. We are tanght by our daily events and experiences if we "review" them with faith. This is why the review of life must start from precise facts drawn from our actual (lay and week. The review of life must not be thought of as just an external review of some of our duties. It must be past the state of simple exchange of ideas and must be situated at it deeper level. We must be convinced that we need the help of onr fraternity with each other even in the matter of our interior fidelity to Jesus. We cannot go alone to Him. The review of life is a searching together to discover in the light of the word of God the presence of Jesus in the facts and experiences of our daily life. The review of life is a new spiritual exercise, a way of prayer, a means of reading Scriptnre. It calls for discern-ing of spirits, it demands a re-vision of life. It is not so much an examination of conscience as it is a daily enter-ing into a fuller consciousness of Christ's presence in our life through His Word in Scripture and His Word re-fracted in the people and experiences of each day. The fraternity review of life is preceded by an hour of prayer during which each member reviews his own week or month in order to recognize how Christ has acted in him and how he has responded. Each prays for discern- ment to speak and to listen to Christ in the presence of one another. Usually it is difficult to recognize a fact of one's life, accustomed as we are to speak of ideas and thoughts and opinions. We are used to speaking in terms of "they," and "we," and "you." In contrast, the review of life is in the first person singular, forcing one to confront the facts and habits of one's daily life. One can always be more objective about others than about oneself. The review of life comes no more easily than deep self-knowledge. It is a slow and stumbling process with no step-by-step guide. In every review of life, every fra-ternity is the uniqueness of its members. Life growth and personal growth are rarely obvious. In" Patd's Epistles we can discover how often they become a review of life. Dynamics of the Review As a general rule, a review of life begins with each one expressing a particular fact of one's week: "I feel I have been neglecting personal prayer." "I'm avoiding this per-son." "I have a new understanding of forgiveness through this happening this week." Or one might ask a question: "What made this week for yon? . What do you feel you are to share? . What of your week brought a new light on"the Gospel or what demands were made on you?" "What decisions are you facing? . How are yon following throngla on your commitments?" In these ways, we come to each other with our needs, sharing our bread and ask-ing for bread. We gradually come to ask one another: "Teach me your prayer, your fidelity, your poverty, your love." "Share with me your Jesus." In some meetings there might not beany clear experience or grace to share at any one particular review of life. One might not be ready to express what is developing or happening. No one is to feel any pressure to share. No one responds to what another has said except at the invitation of that person. In essence, then, a review of life is primarily a prayer experience, an experience of Jesus and of oneself before Him and in Him. As we have said, no fraternity with one another is possible unless it is rooted in fraternity with Jesus. 0nly through His presence can we enter into deeper presence of one another. In the review, we ask Jesus to help us to discern His presence in ns, to reveal what He is calling us to and how to share Him with the fraternity. New levels of faith and charity emerge. A new sense of His presence is recognized in the way others ex-press what it is for them to be with Jesus. One learns to discern what the Word is saying in this situation and to be sensitive to the Word. Since fraternity means rever-ence, a deep reverence for the mystery and secret that an-÷ ÷ ÷ Fraternity VOLUME 30, 1971 381 + .I. + E. J. Farreli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 389 other person is and who it is that is at work in each; psy-chological or moralistic probing has no place.in the re-view of life. Each person is respected for the inner rhythm of this life in the Spirit. No one may decide: "This is the hour. Now is the moment of grace," or "I have the an-swer to your problena." Although we are called to be min-isters of grace to each other, it cannot come precipitonsly, brashly, or insensitively, it is a beautifnl experience to watch the unfolding of the unknown grace in each other as we search together to li~,e our life according to the gospel. It is important to "call" one another, to hear an-other's expectation of me and for them to hear my ex-pectation of them, their need of nle and mine of them. In many ways the fraternity review of life is a living out, an actualization of the sacramental reality of the Eucharist and penance. The effects of the Eucharist is to bond us to one another to enable us to hear Jesus deep within us always uttering His transforming words over each person in every situation of our life: "This is nay body; This is my blood." The presence of Jesus in ns makes us "an altogether new creature" (Gal 6:16). He enables us in a new way to relate to others. His presence enables us to experience a new presence in others ". that each part may be equally concerned for all the others. If one part is hurt, all parts are hurt with it. If one part is given special honor, all parts enjoy it. Now you together are Christ's body; but each of you is a different part of it" (1 Cor 12:26-7). "If we live by the truth and in love, we shall grow in all ways into Christ, who is the head by whom the whole body is fitted and joined together, every joint adding its own strength, for each separate part to work accord-ing to its function. So the body grows until it has built itself up, in love" (Eph 4: 15-6). Eucharist, the fraternity with Jesus, creates our capac-ity for fraternity with one another. He alone can free us from our inability to love as He loves ns. Fraternity is the environment for penance, the sacrament o~ reconcil-iation, to reach a new fullness. For so long a time Encha-fist and penance have been contracted to the private individual sphere of I and Thou. So little of these sacra-ments is corporately and communally experienced. These sacraments give us power but rarely do we find an en-vironment to actualize His grace in us for others. Many have left religious life and the priesthood not so much because they have been hurt by the community hut be-cause they have not been healed. The hungry continue to be sent away empty. Fraternity means healing, it is for giving--forgiving. We discover that we have a power in Christ to forgive sin, the offense against us. It is a real power, just as we have the power to bless, because of the reality of Christ's presence in us. We have real power even though it is not the sacerdotal power of absolution, a forgiveness through the power of understanding and compassion. We are peacemakers and joybringers because we express visibly Christ's p(rson and Christ's forgiveness in love. Fraternity and review of life is a risk. It is as dangerous as prayer--one never knows where He will lead. Fra-ternity and review of life are contemporary ways of re-sponding to His Word: "By tliis love you have for one another, everyone will know that you are my disciples" (Jo 13:15). His words of judgment cannot but haunt us: "1 know all about you: how you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were one or the other, but since you are neither, but only lukewarm, I will spit you out of my mouth . I am the one who reproves and disciplines all those he loves: so repent in real earnest. Look, I am standing at the door, knocking. If one of you hears me calling and opens the door, I will come in to share his meal side by side with him . If anyone has ears to hear, let him listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches!" (Rev 3:15-22). Fraternity VOLUME 30, 197! 383 PAUL M. BOYLE, C.P. Small Community Experiences ÷ ÷ Paul Boyle, C.P., president of the Conference of Ma-jor Superiors of Men, lives at 5700 North Harlem Ave-nue; Chicago, Illi-nois 60631. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 384 As part of the renewal process initiated by the recent Vatican Council many religious institutes are trying new styles of communal life. It is difficult to characterize these new approaches to life in community. They have received a variety of names in various institutes, such as Experi-mental Communities, Small Community Living, Apart-ment- Style Living, Yet none of these denominations des-ignates those elements which are common to the new approaches. The word "small" comes closest, perhaps, but it is a very relative term. Whatever their common characteristics, it is clear that these new approaches to community living are wide-spread. The Conference of Major Superiors of Religious Men (CMSM) thought it would be well to ~valuate some of these endeavors. A series of six workshops was arranged in different parts of the country. About 30 major superi-ors were invited to each workshop, half men and half women, plus ten resource persons. Generally between 30 and 35 persons participated in each workshop. Many of the major superiors invited had personally participated in these small community experiences. Prior to each workshop the participants received papers describing, very briefly, one new approach to community living in each of the religious institutes represented. Some of these endeavors had already ended in failure. Others were floundering. Some were flourishing. Originally the workshops were entitled "Experiments in Small Community Living." However, the word "exper-iment" was quickly dropped both because it was mislead-ing and because it was apparent that small communities were here to stay. They were no longer considered an experiment, even though the particular mode or style in which this specific small group expressed itself was open to revision. The small size of communities was not precisely the point of consideration either. The participants were stud- ying a significantly new style of community life in small groups. Any common characteristics or integral elements constitutive of this new style could best be learned from the observable data at band. Eventnally the workshop members drew the conclusion that much more than a new style of life was under consideration. It was a differ-ent Christian culture, a different spirituality. The two styles of life in religious communities were expressive of two divergent views of the Christian life. The workshops made no effort to propose specnlative solutions. The approach was an entirely existential one. Current projects on new styles of small community living were studied and discnssed. Information was exchanged and experiences were studied and analyzed. Certain ten-tative conclusions seemed to emerge. Through the days of the workshop the participants attempted to discover common elements in these various efforts. When experiments failed, were there any recur-ring components which contribnted to this lack of suc-cess? Could we discover any factors which angnred well for the success of an endeavor? Where these projects have perdured, have they made any significant contribution to religious life? The workshops were, in other words, attempting to do three things: 1. Evaluate the sti'engths and weaknesses of current programs in small community living. 2. Discover any features to foster in attempting future projects. 3. Discover any features to avoid in initiating further such efforts. As a resnlt of this sharing it was felt there may be some nseful information instructive for the planning phases in preparation for such projects. Obviously an evalnation demands some basis of com-parison. Generally speaking these assumptions were not clearly articulated although they can be gleaned from the discussions. One assumption was clearly stated. Groups which have separated from their religious institute were considere'd failures in respect to their forming a vital part of the parent organization. Hence there was no effort in the sessions to study subseqnent developments within such groups. Indeed it seems that few of them survived their separation from the parent religions organization. It might be well to indicate, briefly, the other norms nsed for evaluation. As mentioned, these were not explic-itly enumerated bnt they were the recurring points under consideration. + 4- 4- Small Communities 1. Personal maturity. Does this style of life promote growth in VOLUME 30, 1971 maturity? 2. Interpersonal relationships. Are the personal relationships 385 "4- "4- ,4. Paul Boyle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 386 supportive in these communities? Are there clear manifesta-tions of love, trust, and respect? 3. Evangelical counsels. Does this project provide a believable manner of living out one's commitment ;to the evangelical cou nsels? 4. Prayer. Does the individual and communal witness to a life of prayer deepen in communities free to determine their own norms and forms for prayer? 5. Fiscal responsibility. Do such practices as community plan-ning of communal budgets and personal management of funds contribute to fiscal responsibility? 6. Apostolate. Is apostolic ;~ctivity fostered by these renewal efforts? 7. Corporate commitment. Do the individuals and groups find their interest in the larger parent organization is strength-ened or, perhaps, attenuated? Possibly because a nmnber of the superiors ltad been through some very painful experiences, the sessions began by considering the negative aspects of these new styles of life. Then the group brainstormed the positive values of these small groups. Positive and negative elements were then gathered into areas of similarity and discussed at length. Negative Aspects The participants were painfully aware of a host of problems connected with these new approaches to com- ~non life. A number of the areas, however, were quickly seen to be tensions common to other forms of community life also. These problems bad simply been highlighted by the experiment. After some consideration other problems were recognized as not so much connected with this man-ner of life as with the method by which Stlcb projects were initiated or with the people who participated in them. Other difficulties, however, were intimately con-nected with the style of life itself. GOALS AND EVALUATION An often repeated mistake was lack of clear planning. The goals of the project were not enunciated explicitly. Neither the participan(s nor the institute bad anything clear against which to evalnate the program. The mem-bers of the group bad no framework within wtiicb to locate themselves. Often the experimenters were ktealists or visionaries wbo eschewed the mundane realities of goals and organization. A recent study~ of 50 commnnes (30 from the 19th century and 20 contemporary ones) shows some remarka-ble similarities between those of the past and the present. The stndy cites one of the constants by quoting a mem-ber of one current failure: We weren't ready to define who we were; we certainly Psychology Today, July 1970, p. 78. weren't prepared to define who we weren't--it was still just a matter of intuition. We had come together for various rea-sons- not overtly for a common idea or ideal . The differ-ent people managed to work together side by side for awhile, but there really was no shared vision. INITIATED FROM ABOVE Small groups which were regarded as a project of the total religious community fared quite well. The more closely the members of the small group were united with the other religious in the congregation, the better was their chance of success. Sm~tll groups which were alien-ated from the larger parent group had a poor survival rate. Indeed this factor of alienation was probably tlie most constant indicator of failure. Projects which were initiated by decree of the chapter or decision of the administration seem to have been re-garded as a project of the full community. Rarely was there alienation from the parent group. Conversely where these projects were initiated as a result of pressures from those who wished to begin such a small group, almost every one of them dissolved within two years. There were many explanations offered for this fact. Probably the real-ity is as diverse as the persons involved. But the fact remains and is something to be seriously considered. SIZE OF GROUP All recognized that the size of the group was an impor-tant ingredient for the success of a ventnre. Yet experi-ence compelled the members to conclude that there were no absolutes in this matter. For a wide variety of reasons groups consisting of less than five had little success. With some exceptions communities smaller than five disbanded after one or two years. Most members of the workshop thought that groups with more than 10 or 11 merabers Wotlld be too large to attain the goals of this new s~,le of community life. However, they recognized that tl,ey were not speaking from extensive experience. The vast major-ity of the successful small groups consisted of from five to nine religious. There were a few institutes with new styles of community life where the membership was a bit larger than this. Yet the consensus seemed to be that, generally speaking, the best chance for success is in a group from five to nine persons. MEMBERSHIP Perhaps one of the biggest surprises came when the qualities of the membership in these small groups was considered. Were the members of successful groups in similar age brackets, of similar tastes and interests? Or did the membership span the spectrum of age and experi-ence? ÷ ÷ ÷ Small Communities VOLUME 30, 1971 387 Few, indeed, were the homogeneous groupings which survived. Many of the participants in the workshops reg-istered their surprise at this fact. Some interesting specu-lation developed in an effort to explore the reasons, but it is sufficient here to record the phenomenon. On the other hand it would not be correct to say that the small gronps were so heterogeneous that they in-cluded each element in the institute. One essential quality for inelnbership was a willingness to dialog. Granting that and the minilnal maturity re-ferred to above, the presence of diverse age groups and attitudes seems to be a very healthy ingredient. HORARIUM Another frequently mentioned problem was schedul-ing. Small groups fonnd it difficult to get together for community prayers, discussions, and recreation. It was believed that the problem was the same in larger group-ings but its harmful effect was not felt as keenly. Yet, after a period of time, the small groups were able to make suitable adjustments in their schedules. Recogniz-ing the need and value of being together at certain times, they accepted the implied limitations imposed upon their choice of other benefits and valnes. Positive Values The workshops devoted the major portion of their time to the positive values evidenced by this new style of community life. Here the participants discovered some-thing which led them to conclude that this style of life would be normative for apostolic communities of the fu-ture. ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Boyle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~88 INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS This was the most common goal desired by those enter-ing these projects. They wanted to establish an atmos-phere which would foste]- close personal relationships. It was their belief that thi~, in turn, would give a basis for an enriched relationship with Christ. Many religious began these small community projects with unreal expectations. They believed that they could establish a primary relationship with each member of the community. Moreover, it seems they considered these close interpersonal communities a panacea for all the problems of life. One of the significant factors in the faihlre of early efforts was that the participants were frequently imma-ture. Perhaps they were idealists who needed the support of people able to cope with the daily realities of life. Some found the increased demand for personal responsi-bility in small communities too much for them. They longed for the benefits of community but were unable to pay the price demanded. Yet the majority of the religious seem to have found that their experience in the new groupings deeply enriched their lives. They have formed close, personal friendships. It was interesting to note that an increase of personal responsibility was experienced in these new styles of life. Not every religious will thrive in such small ~roups. Some people, for instance, find such satisfaction in their work that they do not need th~ support of interpersonal relations at home. Religious life, for them, is more func-tional than personal. They are religious to perform an apostolic work and the institute exists to facilitate this work. In and through the structures of the institute, moreover, they find that incentive to sanctity which helps them perform their work in a way befitting a consecrated Christian. A growing number of religious, however, need or desire a different kind of relationship in community. An active and persistent striving to realize the opportunities for full development of each person in the small group must be one of the expectations of persons participating in these programs. A certain acceptable level of matnrity is a pre-requisite. In and through these small communities many reli-gious have come to a deeper self-awareness. This has ena-bled them to develop their potential and reach a satisfy-ing level of maturity. Small group living, for reasonably mature people, can clearly contribute to personal growth. Obviously there are tensions and problems experienced in the small communities. One of the most important was the lack of privacy. There was a great need for personal privacy, for places or periods o[ quiet so that a person could be by bi~nself. Too much "togetherness" was harm-rid. Physical and psychic privacy were prerequisites for successful interpersonal community. PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY One of the common characteristics of these groups was their mutual sharing of community responsibilities. Al-though the name was rarely used, in a number of in-stances there was a superior. Yet the role of the superigr was seen as significantly different from that of the tradi-tional decision-maker. The majority of these small groups, however, were without any designated superior. Nor did it seem correct to assert that one person usually emerged as the de facto leader in the group. Initially the groups generally began by discnssing all decisions to be made. After a while, however, routine decisions were del-egated to varions persons with a periodic review by the group of the manner in which these may have affected ÷ -I- -I-Small Communities VOLUME 30, 1971 389 the community. Harmoni6us community living required a clear delineation of rights and responsibilities spelled out tbrougll months of dialog. There were regular sessions to evaluate their progress in attaining the goals, to consider the policies determined by the group as well as the administrative decision by way of implementation. Conflicts and tensions must be brought into the open in a continuing effort to resolve them. + + + Paul Boyle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 390 PRAYER A consideration of the various endeavors in the differ-ent institutes reveals a curious pattern in regard to prayer. When these new connnunities first started communal prayer fell off notably. In many instances the only com-munity act of worship was an occasional Eucharistic cele-bration together. At the same time the. religious were gradually experiencing a deeper faith orientation to their life. Through their community discussions they were coming to an awareness of tile place of a living faith in their lives. In a new way they were becoming conscious of the workings of the Holy Spirit. They were experiencing tile faith as a dynamic force in their lives. Then, after many months, something marvelous began to develop. Communities began searching for new forms of communal prayer. Frequent dialog prayer, sharing re-flections on the Scriptures, personal petitions addressed to God, hymns and psalnas of praise, all of these started evolving around the flow of daily life. This is something still very such in tile developmental stage in most com-munities, but it is one of the more exciting prospects. A deep desire for prayer is vibrant in these small communi-ties. Eager and earnest efforts are beingmade to achieve a life of prayer which fits comfortably into the patterns of life of the individual conmaunities. An interesting contrast kept recurring between the quality of these prayer experiences and the relative infre-quency and comparative brevity of these communal pray-ers. The Eucharist is often celebrated with other sectors of the larger community, the parish or the religious institute or work groups. But regular and informal celebrations in tile local community, frequently quite protracted through additional readings and shared reflections, are highlights in their prayer life and cherished experiences. APOSTOLATE Taking the term "apostolate" as the kind of service performed by the religious, s.nall group living does not seem to have any particnlar bearing on the apostolate. Considering the apostolate in a broader sense, however, as meaning the mission of religious to bear witness to the world, these new approaches in small group living have ,;ome significant developments. For one thing, unlike the typical monastery or convent, these residences are a normal part of the neighborhood in both location and appearance. The physical facilities .;,~em to help establish a rapport with the local citizenry. Religious in these groups generally establish bonds of friendship with their neighbors and participate in the parochial and civic life of the neighborhood. Frequently, they evidence deep concern [or the social problems of the areas. As the summary from one of these workshops stated: An important test of this quiet witness is whether those around them come to know them as alert, compassionate reli-gious people who have a genuine concern for others. This will depend on whether their style of life speaks quietly to those caught up in an acquisitive and competitive society. It will also depend on the degree they can in proper time and place realize reciprocal influence with their neighbors in the areas o~ spiritual and moral insight or support. In each workshop there were a number of other wflues and dangers, but the above represent the recurring ones which were considered significant. Despite some bad be-ginnings the new style of community life is flourishing. It provides the atmosphere for some wonderful experiences. The experience of those in these new groups and their major superiors strongly suggests the conclusion that this style of life will be normative for the future. + ÷ + Small Communities VOLUME 30, 1971 39] THOMAS H. GREEN, S.J. The House of Prayer: Some Reflections Based on an Experiment Thomas H. Green, S.J., is a faculty member of San Jose Major Seminary; Box 4475; Manila, Phil-ippines. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 392 1. The Need and Conventional Forms of Meeting It The idea of a house of prayer for apostolic religious is a very new one in the Church.t But the fundamental spirit is that of Christ Himself who both taught and exemplified the need for the apostle to "come aside and rest a while."'-' The rest which the Lord gave to His disciples and which He sought Himself was the recreative rest of time and space to truly encounter God. To rest in this way involved many things: the opportunity to get enough distance from apostolic involvement so that the disciples could understand the real meaning of what had happened to them; the chance to "return to the sources" and to deepen their reflective understanding of all that the Lord had previously taught them; the oppoi'tnnity to consolidate their own lives and thus to be open to future growth. They had to learn a lesson that is very important in our time--that certain kinds of devils are driven out only by prayer and fasting, that is, by the quality of the inner life of the exorcist, and not by any techniques or devices of his trade,s That first missionary journey, where they learned the possibilities of God's word in them, appears to have been an essential part of their formation. x For an early statement of the idea, see the article on the subject by Bernard H~iring, C.Ss.R., in REwv.w fOR R~L~CaOUS, September, I967. The early history of the house of prayer movement is sum-marized in Exploring Inner Space by Sister Ann Chester and Brother David, 1970, pp. 8-11. '-'Mk 6:30--4; Lk 9:10; see also Mk 6:46; Lk 6:12; 11:1; Jn 7:53. ~ Mk 9:29. But it was to prove a source of growth instead of despair only on the condition that they returned to the Lord to share with Him, in leisure, their successes and failures, and to learn from Him the true meaning of both. In this work, above all, what the apostle is counts far more than what lie says or does. Saint Paul, the greatest of apostles, was fully aware of this need.4 And, if we are to judge from his own mis-sionary life, the alternation of apostolate and reflective integration is a continual process as long as the apostle lives. Throughout her history, the Church has continued to realize this need. And the Holy Spirit has inspired her to provide various means for meeting it. The idea of daily periods of mental prayer has long been stressed in apostolic commnnities. Moreover, in recent centuries, an annual retreat has been a central spiritual feature of these communities. Finally, many communities have seen the need for a tertianship or "third probation" (postulancy and novitiate being the first two probations) to solidify and confirm the mature interiority of the apostle. All these ideas have proven valuable; but each of them has its limitations today. Perhaps a consideration of these limita-tions will help to snggest why a new instrument of apos-tolic maturity has appeared in our time. The oldest and most basic of means to interior depth is the daily mental prayer of the apostle. It remains a central featnre in any true instrumental union with God. But there are two kinds of difficulties which modern man en-counters. The first is the difficulty of discerning the spirits at work in the soul at prayer--of interpreting prop-erly what God is or is not doing. This has always been a problem, and it led St. John of the Cross, among many others, to insist upon the paramount importance of a good director."~ Such direction is hard to come by, however, and few souls seek until they find it. More often they grow un-certainly, and all too often they read the interior signs wrongly and take for failnre what is really growth. At this point a second, and more distinctively modern, difficulty enters. We live in a higly complex and intensely paced age. The apostle is a child of his times. As a result, he often finds his work occupying most of his energy and attention, even at times which he has kept "free" for prayer. The regular and measured pace of early monasti-cism where the fulfillment of the command "labora" distributed itself evenly and naturally over the days and seasons of the year is but a celestial dream for many mod-ern apostles. The result of these two difficulties combined ~ For an excellent resum~ of the Pauline teaching on prayer, see Romans, Chapter 8, footnote "'o" in the Jerusalem Bible. ~ Living Flame o[ Love, III, 26-53; see also St. Teresa, Interior Castle, pp. 50, 53, 68, and passim in the Image Book edition. 4- Prayer House VOLUME :~0, 1971 393 4. 4. 4. T. H. Green, S. J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 394 is frequently a mystique of work: Good souls despair of ever truly finding God in this life, and they decide, in effect, to lose themselves in their work for God, post-poning nntil eternity any genuine encounter with the Reason for their work. Two of the interior giants of our time, Karl Rahner and Caryl Houselander, have written movingly abont the holy wrongness of this decision.6 Prayer becomes a repetition of canonized formulas and resolutions, combined perhaps with a vagne unease that there should be more. The second means to interior depth, the annual re-treat, has arisen precisely as a response to the need, felt by members of apostolic communities, for periods of as-sessment and consolidation. The apostle cannot give what he dqes not have. The retreat is a chance to come aside and rest a while, and many find it an invalnable part of the year. Like the Biblical Sabbath rest, one of its natural (but not to be despised) fruits is physical rest. For many apostles, it has become the only real vacation they take in the year. And often they find that, rested, they can indeed pray fruitfully. The retreat, however, is very short: in some counnunities, three days; in others, six or eight. And everywhere the tendency is toward shortening it. Partly because retreats have become very impersonal en-counters between one retreat director and a very large group of retreatants. This results, often enongh, in a re-treat which is strongly moralistic, focusing on practical resolutions and planning'for the year, rather than on the "present deep experience of God which should be central to the retreat,v The physical sitnation makes adaptation to the personal needs and situation of the retreatant vir-tually impossible. Another reason why retreats are losing their vitality is the professionalism which characterizes so much of our work, and the failnre of the retreat struc-ture to provide that distance from our daily concerns, along with a real sense of direction in the retreat itself, which will challenge the modern man to seek and find a maturity in Iris prayer commensurate with his profes-sional maturity. The third traditional means to interior depth is the "tertianship" or third probation of many religious com-munities. Similar to this is the summer of renewal which some communities of sisters make available to their mem-bers, perhaps 25 years after profession. This is a true at- ~ K. Rahner, On Prayer, pp. 7-9; C. Houselander, This War Is the Passion, pp. 33-5. ~ This question of the proper purpose of a retreat has been much discussed in recent years. In an Ignatian context (and, I believe, even more generally), the remarks of Wm. Peters, S.J. (The Spirilual Exercises o~ St. Ignatius: Exposition and Interpretation, pp. 4-9) are very helpful. tempt to enable the religious to update themselves theo-logically, but it is even more what St. Ignatius calls a "schola affectus," 8 a chance for the heart to renew its commitment to God and to make new again that love which alone justified "leaving all things" in the first place. There is the time to settle down and to live deeply --something a retreat scarcely affords. There is the dis-tance from routine worries and preoccupations which even the most mature souls rarely find in their daily lives. And indeed, the house of prayek concept has much in common with the tertiansbip or summer of renewal. Too often, however, these familiar opportunities for renewal come only at a fixed and (,niform time in the life of religious, and the interval of renewal is uniform for all. Moreover, in these times when the communal character of our Christian and religious life is highly valued, there is often little community continuity to these forms. That is, the only principles of continuity from one renewal group to the next are the director (or directress) of the house and, perhaps, the instructional staff. There are, it is trne, customs and traditions which the director will commt, nicate verbally to each new group, but each has virtually to create from scratch that sense of Christian community which is integral to any post-Vatican II re-newal. 2. The Evolution o[ One New Response The house of prayer idea, then, is a recent proposal for meeting,an ancient religious need. One of the earliest and most eloquent advocates of'such houses is Father Bernard H~iring. And the importance which he attaches to the idea may be gathered from the fact that he has been known to say that this may be the most important work of his life. The idea of houses of prayer, though, has not always been as dearly defined as this may suggest. That is, many people have felt the lack of genuine leisure and of interi-ority, as well as of the freedom to respond to the apostolic "sacrament of the present moment," in modern religious structures. But the views as to how to remedy this lack have been almost as numerous as those who have felt it. I was a participant in early discussions at the University of Notre Dame in 1966-67, in which perhaps twenty sis-ter graduate students from as many different communi-ties took part)) At tbat time, we were in close agreement on the need for greater interiority and leisure, but we were far from agreed as to the forms necessary to meet this need. As the group began to establish contact with other like-a lgnatius Loyola, Constitutions o] the Society o] Jesus, n. 516. See the article cited in footnote 1 for the results of these dis- CL1ssiolls. ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer House VOLUME 30, 1971 ÷ ÷ ÷ T. H. Green, S. ]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 396 minded religious, and to carry the idea back to their own communities, the possible forms gradually began to crystalize. While my own personal obligations1° prechtded close contact with the developing "movement," I followed indirectly but with great interest the emergence of the IHM Clearing Center in Monroe, Michigan, the various intercommunity conversations (and the involvement of such distinguished advisors as Thomas Merton), and the varions summer experiments in house-of-prayer living which were undertaken. But I felt, particularly when I returned to the Philippines in June of 1969, that my own involvement in the movement was at an end. I was mistaken. Through a series of those accidents and coincidences by which providence so often works, I soon found myself involved in an experimental house of prayer conducted by the Philippine province of the Sisters of Saint Paul of Chartres. The experiment has some inter-national importance, for the provincial superior of the St. Paul Sisters secured approval for it with a view to re-porting on the results at the community's next general chapter in 1971. If successful, it conld be extended to other provinces. At any rate, our experiment began full-time operation at a remote and beautifnlly situated mountain house in the northern Philippines.~ The two sisters with whom I had worked in planning the experi-ment during the preceding six months were then joined by two others, for a core group of four. Our house is called "The Home of the Spirit of God," since that seemed to express best wlmt we hope it will be. 3. Complementary but Diverse Options This brief historical excursus was necessary for two reasons. In the first place, the honse of prayer idea is one that has taken shape gradnally and experientially. We did not have a fully articulated concept of what was needed. Indeed, I at least have long believed that it was necessary to stop planning and start living the house of prayer. I felt that we could only learn the problems and possibil-ities- more deeply, that we could only learn whether and where the Spirit of God was leading ns--i[ we gave Him the time and the space to show us.v' Secondly, the living out of our experiment, within the matrix of concrete pos-sibilities afforded us by obedience and circumstance, has ~o First in writing a doctoral dissertation, anti then in pursuing postdoctoral studies at Cornell University aXAt Mount Pico in Trinidad Valley, about 6 kilometers from Baguio City. = For a further discussion of this delicate balance between plan-ning and living, sec Exploring Inner Space, pp. 79-81, 96-7, 111-2. shaped our understanding of God's design for this house of prayer. As I look back on the Notre Dame conversations in the .light of our Philippine experience, it seems to me that there are two basic options open to the house of prayer movement. The first is to establish centers of apostolic availability, for example in the inner city, where religious would be freed from tile institutional demands of our highly structured works and could offer to the people a flexible and prayerful community response to their actual present needs. This less structured type of Christian witness certainly appears to be an essential feature of the post-Vatican II Church. In fact, such a witness will un-doubtedly be a touchstone of the adaptability and rele-vance of the contemporary Church. But this type of experiment will not, by itself,'meet the needs of modern religious--particularly the need [or in-terior growth of which we spoke in the earlier part of the paper. It seems utopian to expect that we could abandon our structured works in the foreseeable future, or that a majority of our apostolic religious could be committed to free-form apostolates in this age of increasing profes-sionalism. And even if these goals could be realized, an elementary knowledge of human nature suggests that these new forms of witness would progressively take on structures of their own. More deeply, however, flexible response by itself would not guarantee mature interiority or the putting on of Christ. Thus there is a second option open to the house of prayer movement--one whose direct finality would be to provide apostolic religious with the . opportunity for full interior 'growth.-It-is this-type of. house of prayer which the Spirit appears to be forming here in the Philippines. Such a house would have as its aim providing a con-temporary response to the needs discussed in the earlier part of this article. It would complement the daily periods of prayer, and the annual retreat, of the apostolic religious. This means that it should provide the leisure and the spiritual direction necessary to read the signs of interior growth correctly, and to avoid that mystique of work which threatens to rob dedicated souls of the perspective described by our Lord in the Last Supper discourse. Moreover, it should provide a much more realistic op-portunity than does tile group annual retreat for apostles to personalize their experience of God and to deepen the sense of the utter uniqueness of their vocation. In this way, an interior maturity commensurate with our pro-fessional maturity would be fostered: a development which would resolve many of our contemporary "identity Prayer House VOLUME 30, 1971 397 crises," and consequently equip us much better to speak the healing word to modern man.1:~ Perhaps the most fruitfid way to conceive this type ot~ house of prayer is as a sort of "floating tertiansbip." That is, it would be a true "schola at~ectus" for people experi-enced in the apostolate and well aware of the difficulty of achieving true spiritual maturity. But it would be avail-able to them when they themselves felt the need for it. Moreover, it would be a continuing community--with a core group providing the continuity--whose whole apos-tolic function would be to provide a climate of peace and prayer and joy into which others could easily enter for that period of time (whether a summer or a semester or a year) which seems best to them. Since this seems to be the type of house of prayer taking shape among us here, per-haps a Jew preliminary experiential comments are in order.1~ 4- 4- 4- 4. Some Reflections Based on Experience The question of the location o[ houses of prayer was much discussed in tile Notre Dame conversations. In the light of our experience, I believe the location shonld be a function of the type of house of prayer envisioned. For our type, whose apostolate is directed to the active reli-gious themselves and which is geared primarily to people coming for a lengthy stay, the best location would be that which best meets their needs and desires--that is, one sufficiently removed from their daily concerns to sacra-mentalize their coming aside to rest a while. At the same time, however, an important part of their growth will be their continuing education. St. Teresa of Avila wisely mistrusted a deliberately ignorant piety. For this reason (unless the core members themselves can provide classes, especially in Scripture and spiritual theology), the house should be near a sister-formation center or a university with a good theology program. The question of continuing education brings us to the broader question of the program of the house of prayer. Since the whole reason for the existence o~ snch a house is to provide tile leisure to hear God, it is clear that the program should be so arranged that whatever is done, especially the liturgy and other forms o~ communal and private prayer, can be done deeply and well. At tile same time, if there is not a common and reasonably busy rhythm to the day, leisure can easily deteriorate into mere idleness; our hearing God can become a mere intro- T. 11. Green, $. ~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 a'~ For moving evidence of the liberative and maturing influence of actual house of prayer experiments, see the reports in Exploring In-ner Space, pp. 40-75. ~ A basically (but not totally) similar idea of the house of prayer is found in Exploring Inner Space, pp. 12-4. spective analysis of ourselves,is ~Ve have tried, gradually and as experience dictated, to articulate a program which provides for daily private prayer (1~/2 hours), study re-lated to prayer (2 hours), classes in conjunction with a neighboring formation program (from 2 to 6 hours a week depending upon the interests and aptitudes of the individual sisters), and work--in addition to the litnrgy antl an adapted form of the Divine Office with which we are experimenting. In addition, the sisters have agreed upon assigned days for receiving guests and inquirers and for handling the small shop which helps to support the house. (The mountain peoples are expert weavers, and locally woven cloth is the principal object for sale.) Various other activities, such as catechetical work in the neighborhood and a coffee hour for the people after Sunday Mass, have arisen naturally. But perhaps enough has been said to indicate the general program of the house. As far as possible we try to work out the details of living communally in the light of experience. One detail which has evoked a uniformly enthusiastic response is an hour in the evening devoted to "creative leisure," a somewhat pretentious title for a time "to do those things you have always wanted to do, but for which you have never had the time." The results have been wonderful in their variety: so much so that the adviser is developing a sense of cultnral inferiority! Thus far the experiment has been enthusiastically re-ceived by the core members and the guest members. The latter have been relatively few until now since we have tried to give the core group an opportunity to get to know one another and to establish the spirit of the house. But there appears to be considerable interest, both among the St. Paul Sisters and among other religious com-munities in the Philippines. Sevkra( of the latter have sent representatives to inquire about our project, anti also to participate in the life--sometimes with a view to establishing similar honses,t~ And within the year we hope to hold an intercommnnity retreat in the house of prayer itself. a~ As Exploring Inner Space makes clear, this was not a problem iu the shorter summer experiments there reported o,~. But we have recognized the danger in a continuing house of prayer; that the danger is real for any small community is suggested by the remarks of Brother Gabriel Moran in his recent book, The New Community, pp. 58-62. He refers to "the uarcissistic obsession with the experi-ence of commu,fity," and quotes with approval Father Henri Nouwen's "spoiled child" analogy. Our experience would tend to confirm these obser\'ations. ~6 The question is ofteu asked whether houses of prayer should be intercommunity or intracommunity. The a,~swer is unclear to me, but experience does suggest that an intracommunity begimting has definite practical advantages in terms of common background, com-munity support, and so forth. + 4- + Prayer House VOLUME 30, 1971 399 + + T. H. Green, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS A final question may be raised: What qualities should be sought in a member of the house of prayer? Guest members (those there for a temporary period) should, we believe~ be mature women, experienced in and dedicated to the apostolate of their community, who have felt the need and expressed the desire for greater interior growth. The house would not normally be for those in, or newly out of, formation. Nor, it goes without saying, should it be a last stopping-off point for those preparing to leave religious life. Some, it is true, will come to the house of prayer with questions about the real relevance of many of our contemporary structures (particularly our mystique of work), but they should be anxious to find the answers within the context of their fimdamental religious com-mitment. The core members should possess all these qualities and should also have a genuine desire to make this house their apostolate. Sound emotional and psychological bal-ance should be especially sought for, since they are to be "bridge people" committed both to a continual openness to the experience of God (a more difficult task than any of the exterior works we undertake) and to the sharing of their search with others. Since community appears to be a central feature of our evolving experiment, they should also be adaptable people, and chosen with a view to the general compatibility of the particular core group in question. Beyond this, it seems very desirable to have a healthy diversity of talents and personalities. For example, it would be ideal to have in the core group a sister well trained in Scripture and another in spiritual theology, who could offer their services to the community and to guest members. But all need not be scholars, providing they are at peace in accepting their own limitations and anxious to put their own gifts at the service of the com-munity. 5. Conclusion These, then, are the reasons I see for a house of prayer, the nature of such a house, and some points of detail which our experience with one house of prayer has sug-gested. It would be wrong to imply that there have not been problems. There have been so many, and such unusual ones in fact, that I have become convinced that the Lord is doing something very important here. More-over, the very problems, and the equally unusual ways in which they have been resolved, suggest that the experi-ment must be approached with great openness and de-tachment. Since the cry for the "liberation" of woman is by no means as loud among Filipinas as among American sisters, the priest adviser can still play a more explicit and less self-conscious role here. But it is no less true here that the life style must be determined, and the problems re-solved, from within. From the outset we have sought to "hang loose" in the hands of God and to let Him lead ns wherever He wished. This has not been easy, and I am sure we have failed often. Bnt the success of our experi-ment will ultimately depend upon our learning to bang loose, particularly since the masters of the interior life all tell us that this "disponibilitd" is the ultimate achieve-ment of mature nnion with God. Our conviction that this is the reason for our existence, and our principal con-tribution to the apostolic life, is sacramentalized in onr name: The Home of the Spirit of God. + 4- + Prayer House VOLUME 30, 401 SISTER MARY JEANNE SALOIS, R. S, M. Pilot Study of xperimentation in Local Community Living Sister Jeanne is Director of Re-search Services; Sis-ters of Mercy; 10000 Kentsdale Drip, e, Box 34446; Bethesda, Maryland 20034. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Religious communities of women are experimenting with many new practices in their living together in com-munity. There is, however, a dearth of reliable and valid evaluation of this experimentation, largely because it is difficult to assess outcomes so subjective in nature. The study reported here was made in a large religious congre-gation (545 local houses) to (1) identify the new practices being implemented and the ends which these practices were to promote, and (2) assess the attitudes of sisters re-garding the effects of this implementation. Procedure: The 73 local conamunities participating in this study were volunteers who agreed (1) to construct ;t plan for local community living for the year, 1969-1970, which would include goals, a plan of action, and meth-ods of evaluation, and (2) to complete an Attitude Scale to be administered to all participants at the close of the year. The investigator visited each local community in the study to: 1. develop the basic assumptions for the study with the lo-cal group in keeping with the new practices they were imple-menting and the ends they hoped to achieve. 2. interview a random sampling of one-fifth of the sisters to obtain an oral expression of opinion regarding the results of changes in government, prayer life, and temporalities. 3. obtain the information necessary for an accurate descrip-tion of the living situation. Treatment of the Data: The Attitude Scale entitled "Scale to Evaluate Sisters' Attitndes Toward Experimen-t; tl Practices in Local Community Living" was sent to 73 local houses totaling 875 sisters. Four hundred and seventy (54 percent) responded, representing the follow- ing cross section of sisters: TABLE I Distribution of Sisters Responding to Attitude Scale Sisters in Religion Over Sisters in Religion Less Sisters Giving No Indica- 25 Years than 25 Years lion of Number of Years in Religion Consensus* Coordinatort 32 155 Consensus Coordinator 70 153 Consensus Coordinator 11 49 * Local houses with government by consensus with no authority figure. "~ Local houses with elected or appointed coordinator. Thus, respondents include 113 sisters with government by consensus and 355 with ;t local coordinator. Respond-ents represent 187 sisters in religion over 25 years, 233 in religion less than 25 years, and 60 sisters who did not indi-cate the number of years in religion. The split-half reliability coefficient was obtained for this scale by correlating individnal's scores on the odd-numbered items with their scores on the even-numbered items, rising the deviation score method of computing the Pearson product-moment coefficient of correlation cor-rected by the Spearman-Brown formula. Tile obtained coefficient of equivalence for the Attitnde Scale was .85. Findings from. local plans. Goals enumerated in tile plans placed heavy emphasis on the spiritual aspects of re-ligious life. There was ~t frequently expressed concern for the psychological aspects of the person, especially for the nniqueness of the individual. The sisters also aimed at improving the apostolic dimension of religious life. The desire to witness to an authentic community of love was evident in m~tny of the goals formnlated. Some plans emphasized the elements of freedom and informality. Procedures for achieving goals inchtded variations in government: 33 houses were governed by consensus, 25 had elected coordinators, and 15 had an appointed co-ordinator. There was much participation and shared re-sponsibility in the local situation. In all personal aspects of living, sisters assumed responsibility for their own de-cisions. Daily prayers said in common varied from the usual Lauds, Vespers, and Encharistic Celebration to Grace be-fore dinner in the local community. Some innovative ap-proaches were tried to enrich the liturgy. In general, lo-cal communities fouml that unless communal prayer was strnctured as to time and place, not much communal prayer took place. Personal monthly allowances ranged from $5 to $80. Ahhough there was some variation in the items to be + 4- 4- Pilot Study VOLUME 30, 1971 4~3 ÷ ÷ Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4O4 pnrcbased with the personal allowance, in many instances tbe same items were to be purchased with $20 in one house and $40 in another. Local comlnunities found ewdnation the most ditficult, partly becanse objectives were not sufficiently specific and they were not expressed in measurable terms. Methods nsed inchlded community discnssions, reports, question-naires, minutes of meetings, periodic assessment of goal achievelnent, and schedule of activities which took place. Findings from interviews. The investigator found much polarity, with sisters in younger, middle, and older cate-gories differing significantly in their thinking about reli-gions life. Older sisters (over 60 years of age) would like to see many things being (lone under the name of ex-perimentation discontinued. They believe that unless sisters return to former practices, soon there won't be any religions. Many middle-aged sisters (35-59) believe that the actnal growth of each sister as a resnlt of the new freedoms depends on each individual; some will profit and some will not. Younger sisters (up to 35) are happy to have the freedom which they are being given, but the grave questions concerning the purposes and values of religious life which they are asking make freedom some-what dangerous from the standpoint of actually living .the religious life. Without an understanding of the pur-poses of religions life to gnide decisions, young religions are uncertain concerning the best means to take in practi-cal situations. Older and middle-aged sisters are happy about many of the changes--participation in decisiou-making, having an allowance, being able to visit relatives more fre-quently, having the freedom to dress for the occasion-- all of these changes are considered helpful to religious living. Changes observed which do not meet the approval of these sisters include the wearing of inappropriate lay clothing, the sharing in the social life of the laity, and being free from a local antbority figure. Older sisters fear that religions are becoming worldly and that prayer life is disappearing; younger sisters [ear that there might be a division in the community and re-ligious life may have no future. Sisters of all age groups are recommending that younger sisters be given more direction and guidance, that forma-tion programs becolne more structnred. When asked their views on reasons for sisters leaving, the sisters mentioned the following reasons: 1. Some sisters don't have anything to hang on to because of inadequate training for religious life. 2. Some sisters are disillusioned with the pettiness of re-ligious life. 3. Some can't live the life and they don't know why. 4. Sisters who are leaving see no purpose in religious life. They wish to marry. 5. Some sisters don't want to become like some older reli-gious they know. Findings from Attitude Scale. Respondents completed. a Likert-type Attitude Scale in order to provide evidence in support or rejection of basic assumptions formulated by the investigator and sisters in each local community at the time of the site visit. These assumptions will be listed followed by a summary of findings from the Atti-tude Scale as completed by the sisters. 1. A basic condition of equality in Christian dignity and freedom will provide a meaningful way of living out one's commitment of obedience. Sisters were asked their understanding of the phrase "equality in Christian dig-nity and freedom" when applied to religious in a local community. Most of the sisters believe that equality in Christian dignity and freedom flows from one's common membership in the People of God with God as Father of all. 56 percent of older sisters (in religion over 25 years) believe the person designated as superior in a commu-nity represents the authority of God, whereas only 14 percent of younger sisters (in religion under 25 years) believe this. 74 percent of younger sisters believe that all sisters have equal responsibility for discerning the will of God for the group, compared to 48 percent of older sisters. 30 percent of younger sisters do not consider di-rection and correction when needed part of the role of the authority figure; 9 percent of older sisters support this view. If the concept of "equality in Christian dignity and freedom" held by the majority of younger sisters is to provide a meaningful way of living out one's commit-ment of obedience, obedience needs to be defined in terms which exclude an authority figure who represents the authority of God (70 percent do not accept this). If the vow of obedience requires that one see in the author-ity figure a representative of the authority of God, then a basic condition of equality in Christian dignity and freedom as defined by approximately 70 percent of sis-ters professed under 25 years does not provide a mean-ingful way of living out one's commitment of obedience. One item in the Attitude Scale was "The concept of equality which excludes a superior can be reconciled with the vow of obedience." 53 percent of all respondents agreed with this statement. This percentage included 47 percent of older sisters with consensus government, 30 percent with a coordinator, 97 percent of younger sisters with consensus government, and 67 percent with a co-ordinator (total of 228 sisters). 2. Opportunities to make personal decisions in an open 4- 4. 4. Pilot Study VOLUME 30, 1971 405 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 406 atmosphere where adult professional roomen act as peers will promote growth in maturity as expressed by concern for the other person's welfare, sensitivity to others' needs, and a sharing of responsibility [or the welfare of the group. The group which believes most heartily that sis-ters readily assume responsibility on their own is the younger sisters with consensus government (76 percent). In the older group, only 31 percent agreed with this opin-ion. Younger sisters had the highest percentage agreeing that sensitivity to the needs of others increases as author-ity decreases (85 percent); 41 percent of the older sisters agreed with this statement. In the opinion of a majority of the sisters, added opportunities to make personal de-cisions provided during this period are promoting growth in maturity as expressed by a sensitivity to the needs of others and the assuming of responsibility for the wel-fare of the group. 3. When sisters participate in organizational planning, the amount of structure zoill vary with each community and it will be appropriate to the situation. A majority of sisters believe that organization for community living in the local house this year met the sisters' needs better than was true in the past. Highest gronp in believing this was younger sisters with consensus government (86 percent); lowest was tim older sisters with a coordinator (48 percent). Among older sisters, the schedule planned was most satisfactory to those with a coordinator; among younger sisters, the schedule planned was most satisfac-tory to those with consensus government. 4. Unity will grow as local communities accept a di-versity o[ living styles among their members, and sisters in the total province community accept diversity of living among local groups. Approximately 75 percent of older sisters believe that acceptance of diversity has much to do with promoting unity in community; over 90 per-cent of yotmger sisters believe this. Respondents were practically unanimous in their opinion that a full re-sponse to the totality of Christian revelation on the part of each sister will promote unity. Over 60 percent of older sisters consider integration of differences and bar-riers conducive to unity; only 23 percent of younger sis-ters agree with this. The great number of undecided responses to an item suggesting that identification with the goals and values of the foundress is conducive to unity (ahnost 30 percent) seems to indicate that these are not consciously functional in the lives of many sisters today. Responses to items related to assumption 4 permit the acceptance of this statement; however, these responses indicate that much more than acceptance of diversity needs to be considered in promoting unity. 5. Community will be fostered on a local level as au-thority effective in the apostolate can be kept from in- [htencing decisions and planning related to home living. Younger sisters are opposed to dual authority (70 per-cent) more than is true of older sisters (44 percent). A majority of sisters agree that authority in the apostolate when exercised in community makes living difficult. 6. A supportive, Christ-centered community attempt-ing to establish interpersonal relationships based on love, trust, and respect will redound to the benefit of the apos-tolate. Groups with consensus government in both younger and older categories were most ready to say that noth-ing had greater effect on their apostolate than their living situation. 64 percent of all sisters agreed that sisters in their local house profited from their day-to-day experi-ence in community living in .meeting the challenges of the apostolate. 7. Spirituality deepens when each sister is free to de-termine her prayer life with no specified prayers. Older and younger sisters differ greatly in their thinking on specified daily requirements in the area of prayer. 76 per-cent of older religions believe there should be specified daily requirements; 38 percent of younger religious be-lieve this. Polarity of younger and older sisters is also shown in beliefs regarding benefits of traditional forms of com-munal prayer. 47 percent of older sisters and 16 percent of younger sisters believe that traditional forms of prayer do much to promote a religious spirit among local groups. Most sisters acknowledge the need for daily personal prayer (90 percent). A majority of older sisters (56 percent) believe that when no prayers are specified, fewer and fewer prayers are said; 18 percent of the yonnger sisters believe this. The sisters are ahnost unanimous in rejecting the no-tion that discussion and/or apostolic work is an ade-quate substitute for personal prayer. The 6 percent who believe this number about 28 sisters out of 470 respond-ents in this study. In summary, sisters in religion over 25 years tend to reject assumption 7, and sisters in religion less than 25 years support it. 8. Community life deepens when local communities are free to respond to their common needs for prayer, and group members support individuals who introduce new forms of common worship. 83 percent of younger sisters with consensus govermnent and 52 percent with a co-ordinator believe that their communal prayer which flowed from the felt needs of the group was a help in ,4, .4- ar Pilot Study VOLUME 30, 1971 407 Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 408 promoting community. Over half o[ the Older groups responded in a positive manner to this item. At this time when so much emphasis is placed on the commnnity-forming aspects o[ communal prayer, over 90 percent believe that communal prayer is an expres-sion o[ adoration, praise, and thanksgiving to God. While emphasizing spontaneous small intimate group-ings in prayer, sisters are continuing to emphasize the vertical dimension. Communities which introduced new [orms o[ communal prayer [onnd these condncive to a deepening of community li[e. 9. Personal management of money and cooperative planning of community budgets will promote an appre-ciation [or the value o[ money, be practical, and be conducive to a responsible use o[ material goods. The per-sonal responsibility which sisters are assuming in finan-cial affairs is making them aware o[ the cost of living. Sisters are finding the allowance (average $26 per month) practical and, in general, adequate. Many sisters are un-certain as to the effects of increased responsibility in fi-nancial matters on the practice of poverty. Some sisters find it difficult to speak in terms of poverty at all because o[ the many connotations the term has, for example, synonymous with destitution. 10. Emphasis on personal responsibility in financial a[- [airs will el]ect greater simplicity o] liIe style or more meaning[ul "ordered minimalness.'" Opinions of over hal~ of the sisters do not snpport the concept that empha-sis on personal responsibility in financial affairs will ef-fect greater simplicity o[ li[e style. The investigator sought to determine the thinking o[ the sisters on the meaning of the vow o[ poverty. A ma-jority of sisters identi~y poverty with a collective sharing of material goods, o~ availability, and o~ love for the poor. Concepts accepted by older sisters and rejected by younger groups are a "willingness to divest onesel~ o~ all things here on earth in order to obtain the riches o~ heaven," and "abandonment of oneself--sacrifice o[ com- [orts and material possessions." Both older and younger sisters agree that poverty means complete and fidl com-mitment to Christ; both groups reject the notion that poverty means dependence on superiors [or material things. 11. Diversified living will enable each sister to develop as a total person and encourage individual initiative in the use o[ her unique talents in promoting the good o[ the community. 25 percent o[ older sisters believe that total development o[ each sister was promoted by partic-ipation in a wide range o[ activities outside the primary apostolate, as compared to 75 percent o[ younger sisters with consensus government and 54 percent with a coordi-nator. In the thinking of most sisters, diversified living does promote the development of each sister and the good of the community. A majority of sisters rejected the idea that diversified living promotes individual satisfaction rather than the total good of the community. 12. Community living will improve as the sisters imple-ment the proposals in Mercy Covenant which are related to community life. Over two-thirds of the sisters indicated that there has been much implementation of Mercy Cove-nant (interim guide for the Sisters of Mercy of the Union). All groups believe that Mercy Covenant has improved community living, with the younger gronp with consensus government being the most enthusiastic (78 percent), and older sisters with a coordinator the least favorably im-pressed (41 percent). Of the groups involved, younger sisters with consensus government believed they experience(! community togeth-erness in a spirit of creativity to the greatest extent (60 percent), and older sisters with a coordinator, to the least extent (45 percent). In summary, most of the sisters in this study believe that proposals on community living have been imple-mented, and that this implementation has made a con-siderable difference in community living. 72 percent say that acceptance of others whose opinions differ from one's own is one area of improvement. 13. Problems and advantages of group living vmy with the size of the group. Nearly 70 percent of all sisters in the study think size has something to do with successful group living. Over half of the sisters prefer a group size of 7 to 12. Advantages cited for small gronps (4-9) were (1) deep and personal relationships, (2) sensitivity in dis-covering the needs of others, (3) less chance of cliques forming, (4) cohesiveness, togetherness, and a sense of belonging, (5) simplified group planning, dialog, and communication, (6) unity through an understanding and acceptance of each individnal, (7) flexible, more easily changed plans, and (8) homelike atmosphere. Disadvan-tages listed were (1) insnfficient variety in personalities for maximum growth opportunities, (2) heavy workload, (3) incompatibility of community members, (4) loneliness when one is not closely related to other members of the gronp, (5) lack of privacy, (6) individual problems affect-ing all members, and (7) demand for much cooperation from each member. Advantages of medium size groups (l 0-18) included (1) diversity in relationships, (2) adequate number available for community activities, (3) reasonable distribution of ÷ 4- ÷ Pilot Study VOLUME ~0, 1971 409 Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 410 work, (4) flexibility of life style and constant presence of community nucleus, (5) adequate privacy, (6) less chance of someone being left out, and (7) easy interchange of ideas. Disadvantages listed were (1) too many divisions possible in community, (2) consensus is difficult, (3) quiet people are swallowed up, (4) lack of personal concern, (5) can make for institutional living, (6) too large for total group activities, (7) too many bosses. Advantages of large groups (19-) included (1) variety of talents, activities, personalities, (2) shared responsibil-ity, (3) better apostolic coverage, (4) easier financially, (5) greater freedom, (6) uncongenial members do not dis-rupt harmony as seriously as in small group, (7) much company and companionship. Disadvantages included (1) lack of family spirit, (2) tendency to form cliques, (3) lack of personalism, (4) difficult to assemble gronp for meet-ings, (5) only a few are heard, (6) can become efficiency oriented, (7) too easy to isolate oneself from community, (8) less responsibility assumed by individuals, (9) lack of communication, (10) too much structure needed. 14. Advantages and disadvantages ol group living vary with the amount of diversity in apostolic worhs repre-sented by group members. Half of the sisters in this study see no particular advantage or disadvantage in profes-sionally diversified groups, with many sisters undecided, perhaps because they never had this experience. In order to obtain further information regarding the effects of diversity of apostolic work, self-selection, and assignment to a group on community living, the sisters were asked to cite advantages and disadvantages of these situations if they had experienced them. Results are summarized be-low. Advantages of diversity of apostolic works in the same community included (I) diversity of viewpoints and inter-ests, (2) conversation not bogged down in perpetual dis-cussion of work situation, (3) can lead to involvement in other works, (4) forced to leave undesirable problems be-hind, (5) source of enrichment, (6) encourages sharing, and (7) promotes appreciation for other's difficulties. Disadvantages included (l) difficulty in planning ac-tivities for entire group, (2) failure to understand other apostolates, (3) confidential information can be unknow-ingly disseminated, and (4) minority groups are sometimes left out of considerations. Adw~ntages of self-selected groups mentioned by re-spondents included (1) provides the satisfaction and com-fort of living with people who accept you as you are and insures a feeling of belonging to the group, (2) contributes to peace and harmony in community because of common ideals, interests, attitudes, goals, (3) increases nnity among members of the group and a sense of responsibility for each other, (4) enhances group spirituality and depth of commitment to apostolate, (5) reduces personality con-flicts and violations of charity, (6) encourages sisters to take responsibility for their own actions, (7) promotes community by size and flexibility of group, and (8) re-duces time and energy needed to adiust to one another. Disadvantages of self-selected groups included (1) group members may be disappointing, (2) can cause loss of com-munity spirit in the larger community, (3) is divisive, (4) is a means of self-gratification, (5) is an unrealistic divi-sion of age groups, (6) can be a cause of added expense, (7) is less a living on faith, less the living of witness to religious life. Advantages of assigned groups mentioned by respor~d-ents included (1) true life style with its variety of ages and temperaments, (2) challenges sisters to new heights of love and consideration for all, (3) provides opportunities for the cultivation of new friends, (4) implements the principle of "being sent" to form community of love, (5) facilitates the keeping of corporate commitments, (6) re-duces the rejection of undesirable persons. Disadwmtages of assigned groups included (1) lack of agreement its to life style with resulting conflict and lack of adjustment, (2) incompatible persons can create prob-lems, (3) unity in diversity is often lacking, (4) restdts in submissiveness and dependence, (5) work may be nnde-sirable, (6) nnhealtl~y friction is often present, (7) lack of personalis~n. One item on the Attitude Scale attempted to find out which areas in the lives of sisters shonld be governed by personal, community, or higher authority decisions. Find-ings were as follows: Areas of Decision Making a. Daily personal prayer b. Daily communal prayer c. Leisure activities within community d. Leisure activities outside community e. Primary work commitment f. Work commiunent in ad-dition to primary apos-tolate Conclusions Source of Decisions Individual (83%) Local Community (58%) Individual (31%) Local Community (29%) Individual (63%) Individual (24%) Higher Authority (20%) Individual and Higher Author-ity (18%) Individual and Higher Author-ity (26%) Individual (22%) Higher Authority (21%) All of the assumptions listed can be accepted with the exception of the four given below which need to be modi-÷ ÷ ÷ Pilot Study VOLU~E 30, 1971 fled and explained in terms used in the text of this manu-script. A basic condition of equality in Christian dignity and free-dom will provide a meaningful way of living out one's com-mitment of obedience. Advantages and disadvantages of group living vary with the amount of diversity in apostolic works represented by group members. Spirituality deepens when each sister is free to determine her prayer life with no specified prayers. Emphasis on personal responsibility in financial affairs will effect greater simplicity of life style or more meaningful "or-dered minimalness." In the opinion of the writer, an understanding of the theology of religious life and mnch dialogue on the real issues which are causing conflict are the needs of the day. Only if conflict, distrnst, and disunity can be replaced by love which can cope with various forms of outward ex-pression will religious turn the present confusion into hopefulness for the future. + + + Sister M. Jeanne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 412 Pra.,ver as CARL STARKLOFF, s.J. "Justi cation by Faith" Although the title may not indicate it, this article will deal with prayer and activity. To explain why one should risk further cluttering the storeroom of spiritual theology with another such study, let me hasten to add that our di

Transcript of an oral history interview with Harold L. Gilmore, conducted by Joseph Cates on 22 January 2017 as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Harold Gilmore was a member of the Norwich University Class of 1953; his experiences as a student at Norwich University and his post-graduation career path, particularly as an educator, are discussed in his interview. ; 1 Harold Gilmore, Oral History Interview January 22nd, 2017 Home of Harold Gilmore Interviewed by Joseph Cates JOSEPH CATES: Let's record and we can get started. HAROLD GILMORE: All right. Very good. JC: All right. This is Joseph Cates. Today is January 22nd, 2017. I'm interviewing Harold Gilmore at his home. This interview is sponsored by the Sullivan Museum and History Center and is part of the Norwich Voices Oral History Project. To start off, can you tell me your full name? HG: Harold Lawrence Gilmore. JC: And, when and where were you born? HG: Born in Whitinsville, Massachusetts in 1931. JC: Okay. HG: April 30th. JC: April 30th. What is your Norwich class? HG: Class of 1953. JC: Okay. Tell me about where you grew up and what it was like as a child? HG: I grew up in a very unique town. The town of Whitinsville, a village of Whitinsville, in the town of Northbridge, Massachusetts. It was what you'd call a company town. It was a town that was operated fundamentally by the Whitin Machine Works, which was a textile manufacturing company. My father worked there his whole life. My mother worked there part-time at times. It was a town that was written up by the Harvard Business School at one point in time as sort of a socialistic environment. JC: Oh! HG: It was a town that ran the library. It had its own housing for its people. The rents were subsidized so to speak. They maintained those properties. So, it was a very unique environment, something that probably not many people in the United States have ever lived in but was very enjoyable. It was secure and stable 2 employment, good schools. Other resources were all well-made, fire departments, police departments, many of it subsidized heavily by the corporation. JC: And what corporation was it again? HG: Whitin Machine Works. JC: Oh. Okay. HG: And it was a textile manufacturing company. JC: Oh. Okay. HG: Subsequently, it has disappeared. Went out of business. Textile manufacturing moved elsewhere. Moves down South and then out of the country primarily. The remnants of it are over in New Bedford where I ended up retiring from the University of Massachusetts over there where the icon on the entrance of the school is a huge spindle, which is a representative of a device that runs a thread through looms, weaving machines. JC: What made you decide to choose Norwich? HG: Well, I was the first individual in my family to go on to college. It's a large family. My mother was one of eight children. My father was one of four. They married. They lived within, almost a stone's throw of each other. We lived in the same place. I grew up in the same place and had many aunts and uncles in the neighborhood. So, I did not have any prior experience with Norwich. The only thing that was driving me at the time was my father said, "You've got to get a college education." He was a wood pattern maker and worked at Whitin Machine Works, as I noted, and he said, "This is not your lifestyle. You've got to upgrade yourself." I did not have the experience that current people have of visiting campuses. I never went to Norwich. I had an uncle that had gone to the University of Rhode Island. He had not graduated. So, I applied there. And then, Norwich had a high school visit team that came through and I got impressed with what that fellow had to say so I applied to Norwich. I did not get accepted to the University of Rhode Island. So, I had the choice of one school, Norwich. So, I went to Norwich. Unbeknownst to me about anything about Norwich. As a matter of fact, I had my high school yearbook signed by one of the teachers and he signed it, "Hup, one, two, three" and he signed his name. I said, "What's that all about?" He says, "You're going to a military school! You're going to be in the Army!" I says, "I am?" When I arrived at Norwich, it was like a new day in my life. I had no military experience. I'd never even been a Boy Scout. The regimentation was totally new to me. That probably was the beginning of what I consider a rather difficult period of adjustment for the four years. As you will probably know, I was a private in the Corps for four years. 3 JC: Oh. Okay. HG: Never given rank. I had the one opportunity close to graduation, which I refused. I thought it was a token gift which I did not appreciate receiving at that point in time. I didn't accept it. In fact, I applied to transfer out of Norwich my freshman year to start college at Georgia Tech. I got accepted to Georgia Tech, got a telephone call from my mother saying, "What is this acceptance notice we've received from Georgia Tech?" I said, "Well, I'm going to Georgia Tech next year, Ma. I'm not going to Norwich." She says, "Very well. Pay your own way." I stayed at Norwich for the rest of my life because I had no money at all! JC: What was it like that first day showing up at Norwich? HG: Well, it was a very memorable day. My father and mother drove me to school with the necessary material that I had to have, clothing and I think we had to bring a mattress at the time. We arrived at Norwich in the morning. My father and mother dropped me off, dropped me off at Cabot Hall. Room 109 was my room. My roommate, Ron Bartlett, at the time, had arrived about the same time so I met his father and mother. We met each other, of course. My father, immediately after dropping me off, jumped in the car and drove back to Whitinsville. They had to get home before dark I think. We started out very early in the morning. In fact, had to turn back because he discovered on the way that we probably didn't have enough gas to make it all the way to Vermont. We went back to get an open gas station because we started out so early in the morning. But no, they dropped me off and left. I remember a conversation I had with Ron's mother and father and she said, "Would you take care of Ron? He hasn't been away from home before." I said, "Yes, I will, Mrs. Bartlett, but neither have I been away from home before." (Laughs.) That was an interesting first day. And then, in contrast to the first day my second year, where I arrived on campus and used to ship a lot of my stuff up in a big, overseas container by train so that my shipment had arrived at the mailroom on campus. I went to the dormitory and I was back in Cabot the second year too. I said, "Rooks! Rooks! I need a rook to go down and get my suitcase and bring it up to the room." "Sorry, Sir. We don't do that anymore." JC: Oh! HG: The harassment rules had changed over the summertime and I hadn't gotten word of it. Plus, I arrived too late, I guess, because I recall having to do that very same thing for upperclassmen that first year. JC: Mm hmm. HG: So, anyway, that was my first day at Norwich. JC: What was your major? 4 HG Electrical engineering. JC: And why'd you choose that? HG: Well, my uncle was sort of involved with the electrical work and not that he had a great influence on me but I observed that and I thought, "Well." He was working for General Electric at the time and I said, "Well, I think that maybe I would do the same thing." So, I sort of went into that field not for any other particular reason than he was successful in what he was doing and I thought it would be of interest to me. JC: Okay. HG: Fortunately for me, in the long run, there were only nine matriculated double Es in '49, which got depleted very quickly, either through people who didn't continue at Norwich or transferred to some other major. I graduated with one other very close friend of mine to this day, Al Gardner, who lives out in the southern part of Vermont on the western edge of Massachusetts. We were the two electrical engineers that graduated in '53. We had tutorials. It was a very fortunate thing for me because probably the school where I had to fend more for myself, I might not have done as well as I did in the curriculum. It was a good experience. JC: Which fraternity did you belong to? HG: I joined Lambda Chi Alpha, which is off-campus, up on the hill. My primary reason for joining them was at the pledge period, you were entertained at the fraternities. They had an excellent meal. At that time, they had a pastry chef with some sort of recognition and he put on a beautiful dessert and I was a fellow who had been plump my whole life, loved sweets, and said, "This is the place for me!" Joined the fraternity and wouldn't you know it, he terminated. He quit. The pastry guy was gone! But we still had good cooks, husband and wife team over the four years, and I ended up being steward of the fraternity. It was a large part of my college life was being in the fraternity. I had to be there at least every day, serving a meal, because I was in the kitchen. In fact, I got rewarded for doing that type of job with half my food bill was being paid by labor so that worked out very nicely for me. JC: Well, what else do you remember about being in the fraternity? HG: Great social environment. I thought that we had, as any organization you end up with some cliques and I had three or four fellows that I chummed closely with and carried on to this day until both of them have now deceased. We had a life-long bonding there so the fraternity life to me was probably my sole social environment on the campus other than some of the things I did with the intramural sports and whatnot. I really was sorry to see the fraternities go but I understood the reason for it and, of course, I was long out of the school at that time anyway 5 so I didn't react one way or the other. It was just a little bit of self-disappointment in the whole thing. I've kept my affiliation with Lambda Chi Alpha for over the years. I still am a donor to the fraternity. I've had representatives from Indiana come up and visit me at the house here asking me for more money. The Lambda Chi, at the time, had sort of reputation of being an academically-oriented fraternity and scholarly environment. Probably didn't pan out as scholarly as I had thought it would but I think the fraternity still holds to that sort of criteria. They like to have their fraternities be scholastically oriented, not just a place to go and drink beer or mess around with the ladies, you know. JC: Right. HG: So, yeah. I heard there might rumors that the fraternities with the civilian population at Norwich might come back. JC: Really? HG: Yeah. I heard a rumor about that but just a rumor. I'm sure that it'd be a hard sell to get them back on campus. JC: Yeah. I know Theta Chi would like to be back. HG: Theta Chi was the Alpha Chapter so, and Lambda Chi, we were the Zeta Chapter, the Zeta Chapter of Lambda Chi so we were not new in the world of fraternities as Theta Chi was. JC: What intramural sports did you play? HG: I got involved in softball, a little bit of tag football and basketball. As I recall, I managed, I guess you'd say, our company basketball team for a while, not that I was any expert in the sport itself but I knew enough about it to try to get the boys organized and spur them on at the games with the other companies. I was in Company B, I think, most of the time. We did okay but it gave you something to do as well as sit in your room and study, that sort of thing. Then, I was on the rifle team for a while. JC: Oh. Okay. HG: When I discovered that my scores were not counted because they have a system of counting only the top five or six scorers and I was always one or two below. I figured I never was good enough. I shot for the team and I gave it up. Tom Atwood, a classmate of mine, was an Olympic sharp shooter so he's – JC: Oh. Really? 6 HG: Oh, yeah. Tom was on the team and he spent a lot of time during his days in the military doing just that, representing the United States on the Olympic rifle team. Tom and I keep in touch to this day. JC: Okay. HG: Yep. JC: He would be a good one to interview. HG: Yeah. Tom is down in Florida in the winter and out in the Chicago area, I think, in the summer. JC: Okay. HG: They know, the school, where he's located. So, if you want to hook up with him, it'd be nice to get him because he was a cadet colonel too, I believe. JC: Oh. Okay. HG: I think Tom was. I know he was high rank in our corp. Getting old here. I forget some of the facts. JC: I understand. Besides intramural sports, what other activities did you participate in? HG: Oh. Let's see. University activities, you mean? JC: Mm hmm. HG: I don't think I, I didn't get involved in any of the other, oh, the IEEE, they had a professional chapter, student chapter. I was involved in that and became an officer in it. Of course, there weren't too many electrical engineers but we did have some younger grads, classmates coming in to it. We did field trips for that. And I was involved with the administration of it, so to speak. But that was probably it, the IEEE. JC: What does IEEE stand for? HG: Institute of Electrical and Electronic Engineers. JC: Oh. Okay. HG: Yeah. It's still an ongoing organization. I still belong to them. I'm a life member in that organization now, because of my age primarily and being a member for so many years. But yeah, it was a good organization. 7 JC: What'd you do to relax when you were at Norwich? HG: Sleep! (Laughs.) We would go to the movies. Go to Montpelier. Perhaps go out to eat in Barre maybe once a week. One of the difficulties of my being a student at Norwich was I didn't have any money and I didn't have a car. So, I was dependent upon a very tight budget and it didn't loosen up at all until I became a junior and senior where we were getting the ROTC ninety cents a day supplement, twenty-seven dollars a month. That helped a lot for spending money. My mother used to say, "The only time you call home, Harold, is when you want money. We don't have any to give you." So, I used to spread my money pretty thinly. So, I didn't do a lot of relaxing that cost anything. There is an incident. One time, Garry Moushegian, Al Gardner, my buddy, the electrical engineer, and I decided to go horseback riding and thought that'd be nice Saturday afternoon entertainment. So, we went out and, funny thing, we rented the horses and got saddled up, got on the horses, and started our trip. Well, none of us knew how to ride a horse. None of us had been on a horse before. The horses turned around and went back to the barn. Garry's a tall guy. Well, the barn door was so low, he got scraped off the saddle. Laughs. Finally, we get them back outside and get them on the way. We did our tour and we're coming back home and, of course, the horses wanted to get back in the barn again. So, they started trotted along and we're bumping along behind them in the saddles and so forth. We got back to Norwich and Garry came over to my room. He says, "Look at what happened!" It wore holes in his underwear! Laughs. So, we had some laughs, you know. Different things like that happened. That's the biggest recollection I can of the things that we did. We had fraternity parties. We had to get involved in that, preparing for them and that kind of thing was an activity that I did as extracurricular. JC: Did you do anything else for entertainment other than what you mentioned? HG: Not that I can think of. I wasn't in any outside of the school activities. I did join the Masonic Order when I was a senior. I joined that and that involves some off-campus activity. I got involved in the Northfield Church. Even as a freshman, I would walk down to church. So, I got involved in church activities. And to this day, I support the Christian Fellowship Organization financially on campus each year to help them along so they can have programs that they want to put on. They have a little bit of money to work with. JC: Right. HG: So, yeah, that sort of thing I got involved in. JC: Okay. Do you remember any particular songs from when you were at Norwich? HG: Well, there's "Norwich Forever," of course, the school song. There used to be a song we used to sing, "On the steps of Jackman, crying like hell! There's a 8 newborn baby. La da da." Laughs. That song we used to sing. The other words they escape me and they don't escape me. They better escape me. They were choice words. JC: I understand. I know the words too. HG: Do you know the words!? Laughs. No. That's about all I remember. JC: I've got it in an oral history, "The Indecipherable Song." HG: Have you really? JC: Mm hmm. HG: I'll have to read that because I'd like to find out what the rest of the song is. It's something like, "A bastard's son of old NU." Awful song. JC: Yeah. It's an awful song. Any other songs? HG: I don't think so. Not that I can remember. JC: Who were the instructors who were most influential during your time there? HG: Well, the electrical department certainly was. Professor Marsh and Professor Maxfield and Professor Spencer, those three. There's an F.A. Spencer award in electrical engineering on campus, I believe. And I have contributed financially to that several times. I don't necessarily do it every year. Those gentleman were very influential. They were almost like tutors to Al and I. We'd be in class. It was just the two of us. You got to know the people and they got to know us. That was a very unique college relationship, I think, that we had. JC: Mm hmm. What was your favorite class? HG: My favorite class? I don't know what that would have been. I know my most unfavorable class was. JC: What was that? HG: Thermodynamics! I flunked that one. I had to take that as a, in order to graduate, I had to pass that course my final semester. So, I was taking an overload. I like Public Speaking. That was an interesting class. I did that the freshman year. I recall we all had to give a talk and I think the fellow's name was Fisk that was the professor. After I got through, I was critiqued, of course, by the student population, including classmates and they criticized me for having my Boston accent. Fortunately, for me, Professor Fisk was from Braintree, I believe. He says, "Mr. Gilmore is going to be fine with his language. I understood him perfectly." 9 Laughs. So, that was a favorable thing out of that class. I remember that so I'd call it a favorite class. I enjoyed it. JC: What do you remember about being a rook? HG: The harassment. A lot of harassment and the fact that we had these duties to perform like opening of windows and preparing the latrines and shining upperclassmen's brass and shoes and that sort of thing. As a person unfamiliar with that, having been the oldest in a family of four, and the only male in that family, I was fairly independent and having to be subjugated to these requirements was demanding in terms of my having to conform to the practices that were being expected of me. That was the worst part that I knew of. Probably another thing would be being out where I was without an automobile. I grew up, as I say, in Whitinsville where I lived out of town about three miles. So, I was used to being in a remote area but I could drive. My folks had a car they would let me use and I could get into town fairly easily and, once there, there was always other transportation you could get as well. At Northfield, there was just absolutely nothing and the closest town was Montpelier, twelve miles away. And also, getting back and forth to school, my folks did not have the resources, the time, or the ability to bring me back and forth to school. There were no commercial transportation convenient. The only way I could get back would be to get a ride from somebody else. And so, that was always at the top of your mind. When you come home, how am I going to get to school? How was I going to get to summer camp, which was down in Georgia? I had no car. I didn't have an automobile until I had started, after graduation, when I started working for Westinghouse, without a car. I had to save up enough money for a down payment to buy one. So, my first few months at work were devoted to saving as much money as I received from my Westinghouse pay to build up enough money to make a down payment on a car, which I finally did. I bought a used car in Whitinsville. I remember it cost $1350. It was a 1949 two-door Ford sedan. I ended up taking it to Japan with me and selling it off over there. Didn't bring it back. Yeah. So, those were the hard parts of school at Norwich. You know, I can recall when I'd get back from Norwich from a vacation, it be in the evening, you'd see the lights up on the hill and I would breathe a sigh of relief, "I'm back home and I'll be safe here when I get home." It ended up sort of like a security blanket. The school prepared me for, it gave me the keys to success. I'm forever pleased and blessed that I ended up going and staying at Norwich actually. It's created a great deal of enjoyment for me over my life. I've had a great post-graduate career and one of the things it taught me was perseverance, life-long education. I wasn't necessarily a brilliant scholar but I ended up getting three master's degrees and a Ph.D. post-Norwich experience and I think Norwich had to have something to do with that motivation to do that. JC: What are your master's degrees in? 10 HG: I have a master's degree, an M.B.A., and I have a master of science and a master of arts, one in human resources and one in labor relations. JC: Okay and where are they from? HG: One is from Shippensburg and one is from Loretto. That's awful. Can you give me a minute? JC: Yes. HG: I have a B.S.E.E. from Norwich, and M.B.A., a Ph.D. from Syracuse, a master's degree from St. Francis College, and a master's degree from Shippensburg University. JC: Okay. HG: The most important degrees for me, of course, was the B.S. in E.E. and the M.B.A. Ph.D. from Syracuse because those influenced what I did with my life more importantly. The other two degrees were done because of what I felt I needed to be effective in the classroom that I subsequently taught and administered the programs in at both Penn State and at UMASS Dartmouth. JC: Oh. Okay. Let's see. What was your favorite part of Norwich? HG: Favorite what? Part? JC: Part. HG: Part of Norwich? JC: Mm hmm. HG: What do you mean by part? JC: What did you like most about it? HG: Well, I would like the day I graduated was the most favorite part for me. I had my entire family there, extended family. We rented a whole motel. I was the keystone person that ever graduated in Johnson and Gilmore family. As I mentioned, the size is extensive and I remember quite a few relatives to follow, cousins and so forth. That was an occasion that I really, it was a success for me because I went there thinking, "I've got to graduate. I cannot fail." And I hadn't even though that last semester I had to take that extra course to make it through. I did it. And then the fact that it prepared me. I left the place with a job. I had a commission. I got a deferment for ten months so I could go to work for Westinghouse and get some industrial experience before I went in the military. Stayed in the military for my, 11 well I went in for two years but I extended because I got special weapons training with atomic weapons and I was there for close to three years total. Could have stayed longer. I was asked to stay longer but for family purposes I, stayed in the Reserve though. I retired from the military and I made it well up to the rank of colonel which I felt was something I never expected either and I think Norwich prepared me for that sort of experience, knowing how to behave and accept responsibility and perform the duties that I was required up to a successful level, satisfactory level. So, the best day at Norwich was indeed the day I graduated because it marked a major milestone in my life. Just as the first day I went there marked a major milestone. JC: What was the most important thing that Norwich taught you? HG: I think to be respectful of others and to take life-long learning seriously and to be persevering in what you're trying to accomplish. Norwich's motto is "I Will Try." So, any opportunity that came along for me, I seized upon. I was outwardly looking, several Fulbrights, quite a bit of overseas experience, along with my family, and I think Norwich prepared me for that by having an overseas assignment that was one of my first, the only one I had as a lieutenant was in Japan. And I got to like other cultures and so forth. I pursued that in Africa, Europe, and other places. As a matter of fact, I was contemplating a trip to China this year. JC: Oh. Really? HG: Yeah. I think I may go to China. I got the quotation and everything. One of the things I have to clarify is that both my wife and I's status health-wise to make sure that we're fit to go. I think we both will be allowed to do that from a medical perspective. The only thing remaining is making the commitment. JC: Mm hmm. HG: So, yeah. We're looking forward to that. We've gone on a number of cruises in the meantime to Alaska, the Mediterranean, the Caribbean, Alaska. So, we engaged travel, so I think the military and the Norwich environment has cultivated that sort of orientation to our lifestyle. JC: You mentioned "I Will Try." What did it mean to you as a student? HG: What did it mean to me when? JC: As a student. HG: As a student? Probably not much. I don't think you really appreciate that. I appreciate it more now that I've graduated and look back on things. I think, one of the things, it's not "I Will Try" so much but "I Will Stick to It!" 12 JC: Mm hmm. HG: I will not quit! I was amazed at the number of freshman, matriculated freshman that left Norwich the day they had to get a short haircut. JC: Mm hmm. HG: I, fortunately, grew up every summer having my head sheared off with what we used to call a Harvard clip. So, it didn't bother me to have to have it cut another eighth of an inch off. But these fellows that came up with the golden curls that had to get sheared said no and left. I wasn't going to give up. If Norwich's moral had been "I Won't Give Up," it would have been more appropriate than "I Will Try" in my case. "I Will Not Give Up." JC: What does Partridge's idea of a citizen soldier mean to you? HG: Well, it means to me that I'd like to see conscription come back. That's how much meaning it has to me. I think everyone should have a requirement to do some public service of some sort, not necessarily military but some kind of public service to build a concept of patriotism and to embed the value systems that our country stands for in their lives, personal lives. And so, the citizen soldier concept, I thought that Partridge had was just that. A person has a responsibility for his country, his family, and the two can coexist. JC: Mm hmm. HG: So, that's what that means to me, to be part of the process as an individual. JC: Mm hmm. Do you remember any funny stories from when you were at Norwich? HG: I'm sure Fred told you a funny story, the time I came up and down on the dumbwaiter at his surprise. He wondered, "Where was Harry?" And I said, "Here I am!" And I was inside the dumbwaiter cage! Laughs. That was a comedy. The other thing was the, not so much of a story but incident, was the time I repeated earlier about the horseback riding incident. That was a humorous event. I don't recall any other thing comes to mind at the moment. I'm sure there probably were numerous other events that happened that created some humor but I don't recall any right now. JC: So, what did you do after graduation? I know you went to work at Westinghouse. HG: Yeah. I went to work for Westinghouse immediately upon graduation. Had a job before I graduated. And then, I took a deferment from, Westinghouse gave me a deferment for about ten months because I did have the two-year obligation as a commissioned officer. So, then I went in the military and got asked if I were 13 interested in taking a special weapons training. That's the atomic weapons training. I got a Q clearance and so forth. And I went to Sandia Base. While there, a unit, 261st ordinance detachment was formed. I became the first commanding officer for, until such time as the captain showed up to take over the reins. I was in individual training. Didn't finish that. Went in to unit training, the 261st trained with the 5th field artillery battalion for deployment to Japan which, incidentally, at that time was against the peace treaty that we had signed with Japan. We're not supposed to bring any new armament into the country but we did. We brought in nuclear weapons. We used to have a little difficulty, the artillery did, going out to the range and firing it off. I went there and did some field exercises in Iwo Jima in Okinawa. While there, got to talking to a gentleman at KU Ammunition Depot Bar one evening and he was leaving for Syracuse University for the comptrollers' program there. And he says, "Harold, you ought to think about getting your M.B.A." And I said, "Well, what's that?" He says, "It's a master's degree in business administration. It's a great topping off of your electrical engineering degree and it's highly sought after people." Now, this was back in 1957, '57, '58. So, I put in for an early release. It was like eight months early. They weren't going to let me go until I got some congressional involvement by Saltonstall and he facilitated my departure from the military. I didn't give up my commission. I just went in the Reserve. And so, I went to Syracuse at that time. Got my master's degree. Went back to work for Westinghouse. Worked for AVCO in the reentry vehicle business, the Apollo program. And from there, I decided to go on to Syracuse. I got a three-year fellowship for a Ph.D. program in organizational behavior and operations management. So, I took that, went there, gave up my work, sold my home, took my family to Syracuse. Again, very, in retrospect, very risky situation. A lot of people start out looking for a Ph.D. and they never get it. I was told when I arrived, I had a very good advisor, a fellow who I had as an M.B.A. faculty member, Dr. Seimer. He said, "Harold, you do not leave this campus without that Ph.D. because you'll never get it if you do." So, I says, "All right, Dr. Seimer. I will not leave." So, I stayed there and I got the doctorate and left them. In my first job, I was planning to go back to work for AVCO because I was in a research and development division where higher degree were, of course, very prominent. JC: Mm hmm. HG: Well, and they had said, "Well, maybe there might be an opening for you when you get through." Well, three years is a long time and everybody changed chairs there. There didn't seem to be anything open for me so I took a job with the University of North Dakota at Minot Air Force Base in the Air Force Institute of Technology program. The AFIT program. We transferred their master of engineering degree to an M.B.A. degree while I was there and I was there for a couple of years. And from there, I transferred to Penn State University and I was at the Middletown campus. My office overlooked Three Mile Island. I was there for sixteen years, I believe. I did teach up at State College one semester. Then, for family reasons, I left Penn State. I was tenured and everything but I left Penn 14 State and came to UMASS Dartmouth here for family reasons, health reasons. And I did ten years over here. At that point in time, I retired from UMASS but, in the meantime, had picked up some work for the University of South Pacific at Fiji. So, I worked off and on during a five-year period in the year 2000 over there. JC: Okay. HG: Currently, I am volunteering at the National Graduate School of Quality Management here in Falmouth, which is an online type program. I am the director of the alumni program, which they've never had before. So, it's an experiment and it may be a futile activity but I'm giving it the best go I can give it as a Norwich guy. I'm not alumni but I'm their director. I'm modelling it after the Norwich Alumni Association. As a matter of fact, I used Norwich's bylaws in modifying to try to make them fit this school's program. So, that's where I am to this moment and I don't know how much longer that'll last. I've been doing it for a couple years now and probably give it another, 2017 may be my last year of doing that. Depends upon what my success is this year. JC: Well, you've had a lot of schooling. How did your training at Norwich prepare you for life, specifically? HG: Very well. Very well. In retrospect, I wouldn't have it any other way. It taught me to roll with the punches. You can't have everything your way all the time. To get along, you've got to go along and cooperate and you graduate. I think, probably, the teamwork idea was imbedded, not so much in a pointed way but in an overall way of existing and finishing up your, what you started. We had to work with other people. I started out as an individual and I think I came out as a person who understood that to get along in this world, you're going to have to work with other people and depend upon other people. Now, I probably, even to this day, I'm a volunteer and I know that I have, I have no resources. I have no budget. I don't have even office space, so to speak, except out of the house. Working with some adult people over here and I know that I depend upon them for everything I get done and I acknowledge that very, very fully to the best extent I can. Because I know that their cooperation, my success depends upon them. Without them, I'll die on the vine. I think Norwich has taught me that concept. Oh! I think I didn't mention to you. You probably were aware of this. I created, for the bicentennial, a puzzle. JC: Yes! You did. HG: You're aware of that? So, I put that together. JC: Mm hmm. 15 HG: And, you know, the thing is, the way that transpired, nobody seemed to want me to do it. Sometimes, that rubs me the wrong way. So, I says, "I don't care if you don't want me to do it. I'm going to do it anyway!" JC: Yeah. HG: So, I did it and quite amazed at how it turned out! There's a gentleman next door who's a graphic artist and he's good on the computer. That's what he does for a living. I got the university photographer, they let me access the photographs. I picked and chose some photographs, brought them over to Sean. I said, "Sean, what can you do for me?" He says, "Let me see those." So, we looked. He says, "I'll have something for you tomorrow." He brought over the thing. "What do you think of that?" Well, we made some adjustments and so forth. My wife has a friend who does puzzles and she brought over to our house a wooden puzzle that she had bought for the Lilly family, the big drug people here in Falmouth, a lot of property and donor, a very big benefactor. I said, "Maybe we could have a wooden puzzle for what I've created for Norwich." So, I contacted a guy in Connecticut and he says, "Yeah. If you're willing to pay the price, I can make that for you. No problem." So, I says, "Okay. Let's go with that." I've even gone down there and I've even worked the puzzle thing myself. My wife and I watched him make, it's an example of his work. Got that done. Made a contact overseas. Got somebody to stamp out those puzzles. I bought four dozen of them. Gave them to the school and said, "Use them at will." Then, I gave Sullivan, no, I gave Schneider a wooden one and I think he turned it over to the, the wooden one I gave him because I didn't want it. What was it going to do with me? So, I gave to him and he put it in the museum, I think. JC: It's at the museum. HG: It was a labor of love. That's all. I just did it because I didn't find the support that I thought I might have gotten from the bicentennial committee but they had bigger items on their agenda. This was not going to fit into the program, I guess. And then, I was involved, at one time, with a committee on postage stamps and I had done a lot of work and I was really disappointed. I got mixed messages from U.S. Postal Service as to whether the images that I submitted weren't, "They're fine. We're going to submit them for postmaster consideration." Then, I get a message from somebody else on the committee saying, "No. We're not." And you can't reach anybody on that committee because they're, you just don't have any contact information for them except maybe names. But now I understand that they did release, or rerelease of the Alden Partridge stamp for the ROTC commemorative. They said that now Schneider's got himself behind the request for a Norwich postcard set which is what they usually do. I think if they don't do something for Norwich for the bicentennial, there's got to be something wrong in Washington. I hope they follow through. I sort of dropped out of the picture because it's now gone beyond my involvement. But I filed all the paperwork and everything else necessary for that. Hopefully, we'll see something come to pass. 16 JC: Hopefully so. HG: Yeah. I was told that one the things, they said, "Well, you've got to get the postmaster in Northfield involved. And I said, "Well, I'm not in a position to do that. You're right there in town." The bicentennial committee itself could just go to the postmaster and say, "We want to issue the stamp." And if he supports it, I guess, or postcards, they don't, the stamps are a little more dicey to get through. But the postcards are pretty easy to do, I guess. So, maybe, we'll see what happens. I don't know. I've lost touch with that group. The last I heard was that they upgraded the applications or something by getting Schneider's support and some other people supporting it too. That'll be good. JC: Yeah. Hopefully, that'll work out. HG: Yeah. JC: Well, that's about your involvement with Norwich. HG: Mm hmm. JC: How do you think your professional life would have been different had you not been a Norwich graduate? HG: Oh, dear. Tremendously different because Norwich set me on a military career. It set me up for a military lifestyle, in a way, although I didn't go there with that idea at all nor did I graduate with that but it just sort of grew on you. I can recall, being a reservist, I would say, "Well, maybe I'll just stop going. I'll just give up." One year led to another year and before I knew it I had thirty years and six months and I was boarded out. I got considered for general officer and I didn't make it. I understood why. My competitor, I knew who that person was and a lot of stuff on his chest that I, ribbons on his chest that I didn't have and I figured he was more entitled to it or earned it more than I did. He had combat time. I didn't have any combat time at all. I was in a war zone, Korean War, but that was over practically. So, I think Norwich set me up for that whole aspect of my life. The academic part of it came about, my industrial area was focused on my engineering experience and math and science and so forth. And then, my academic life, all the way from doing some consulting work and so forth and having the idea of a continuous learning environment. I just kept on going to school, both militarily and civilian-wise. I took many, many a correspondence program. I went to Fort Leavenworth to the Command and General Staff School. I taught Command and General Staff School. I taught at the Army War College in Carlisle, both as a military faculty member and as an academic Penn State, because we had a program with them. JC: Right. 17 HG: You know, I'm amazed at the kinds of things I got involved in and I attribute it all to Norwich. If I had gone to URI like I wanted to heavens knows what I would have become, if I ever graduated. Or if I'd gone on to Georgia Tech, I might have failed out! Who knows? Norwich kept me going. I did hit the dean's list a couple times while at Norwich but I was no stellar student. Sullivan and I share one common thread. We both were privates for four years. JC: Yep. HG: And, you know, I'm not proud of that but we survived. He did very well militarily, obviously. Much better than I did! He got, what, four stars. I got the eagle but, nevertheless, I think that Norwich did us both very well. JC: I think so too. Has being a Norwich graduate opened doors for you that might not have been opened otherwise? HG: I thought, militarily, yes. Yeah. I can clearly recall early on in my career, when I was living up in North Andover. I was in the Reserve unit in Boston. The fellow that was in command of that unit, he loved Norwich guys. So, I got signed to his unit. Having somebody who was favorably disposed to where you're from certainly is helpful in the image that you are going to create if you live up to the person's perception of the school. JC: Right. HG: And I did very well. So, I think that opened me up for captain and major level of consideration. From then on, it was, an interesting little thing was when I worked for Penn State, I had a student by the name of Emmett Page. He was one of the Army War College students that were taking the master's program at Penn State. I was a faculty member, teaching him a course and I was over at the graduate program over there, teaching in their program, the military. Came time for me to have an assignment, as a colonel. Guess who I ended up being assigned to? JC: Emmett Page? HG: General Page. Laughs. He was in charge of the electronic research and development command in Adelphi, Maryland. I was his assistant. JC: Oh. Wow. HG: So, I got an assistant commander position with him as a colonel. I'd go down there and he'd say, "Harold," because I was in quality, he says, "I got some contracts out there. I want you to go to these contractors and see what they're doing and jack them up if they need jacking up." Laughs.) I had a great relationship with Emmett. I followed up with him a little bit afterwards. He was 18 my former student, was now my boss. I was grading him and now he was grading me! It's a small world. JC: Yes. It is! HG: Another interesting situation too was, we're in Japan, my wife and I together, concurrent travel. We'd had a major social event in Tokyo. I don't know what level it was, battalion, it wasn't a battalion party. It had to be higher up than that, maybe a Sullivan Theater type thing. Anyway, we went to it and who do we run in to? Colonel Burkle. Burkle was on campus at the time and his greeting to me and my wife when we got together, "Lieutenant Gilmore, your brass is shiny." Laughs. I says, "You can thank Mrs. Gilmore for that." See, most of my fun happened after I got out of Norwich. Yeah, Colonel Burkle. I think he was a colonel at the time. "Your brass is shiny." I said, "Yep. Thank Mrs. Gilmore for that." Oh, dear. I could go on and on and on, I guess. Been a long time. JC: Mm hmm. Do you think Norwich graduates have a special bond that other people don't? HG: Oh! Definitely! Definitely! Oh, yes. I see it in my children who graduated from Penn State. There's nothing like, these online programs, there's no bonding at all! JC: Right. HG: It's like dealing with particles in the air, dust particles, but Norwich, that experience there puts you into close proximity with other people. It served me so well. Al Gardner, I talked with on the phone all the time. Up until Garry Moushegian's demise, he died up in Norwood, MA, with him all the time. Fred Maier, Jack Gillis passed away. My roommate, Bartlett, Jack Gillis, Garry Mousehegian, they all died within a matter of months of each other. I lost all my, so now there's just Fred left and Al Gardner. So, I've got two very close friends. Other people I know but not quite as, as I said, we socially went everywhere with each other, cruises and all that stuff, you know. Families knew each other. Kids knew each other and stuff of that nature. So, yes. Norwich does create a separate, a special relationship, I think, amongst us graduates. JC: Mm hmm. Um, let me see. We've already answered that question. HG: Mm hmm. JC: Um, you've just answered that question. What advice would you give a rook about how to survive and thrive at Norwich? HG: Go with the flow. Join the program full heartedly. Don't fight it. Join it. And see what you can do to excel in it. 19 JC: Mm hmm. HG: I probably chose, I wouldn't say the opposite path but I resisted. I resisted the program and suffered for it, without getting any rank and you don't get ahead in the world that way. You're going to participate in the program and probably if you can't do that full heartedly, you might do better elsewhere. It's not a place for everybody, the military part of it anyway, the Corp. Now that Norwich has a civilian component, you know, Norwich is a nice school and it's a nice environment and Vermont's a pleasant place to enjoy the winter months and so forth. Can't complain about the environment. If you like a rural environment, it's fine. And I grew up in a rural environment so I didn't really rail at that sort of thing. Although, I sent my granddaughter up there for a campus visit and she came back, "Gramp, the place is not for me." She says, "I'm going to be a minority." I said, "What do you mean?" She says, "Well, I'm not going to join the Corp. I'm going to be a civilian. Right now, I detect that they're a minority up there." JC: Mm hmm. HG: I says, "Well, it's a wise maneuver not to go there. You've got to be happy where you are to do the best you can do." My advice to a rook is you've got to decide whether you're going to be happy in this environment or not. If you are, you'll do well. If not, you're not going to do as well. You might get through, but you won't be the success that you could be maybe someplace else. I have two grandsons. I've got three grandsons but two older ones. I tried to talk them into going to Norwich. Mother was not military-oriented and things were not so, we were at war. We've been at war for so long they don't know what it's like to be without it but she didn't think that was the thing to do. I do have a grandson here locally but he's going to Mass Maritime Academy. JC: Oh. Okay. HG: So, he's quasi-military, in a way. I think that he'll finish that program up in two or three years. He didn't want to go to Norwich either. I don't know why. I don't think he gave it a chance, because he likes to ski. He's an outdoors boy. He would do well. He's got the military bearing and so forth, but he chose the Maritime as a place to go. He did hear that employment opportunities were greatest at Mass Maritime and they are. You graduate from that place, you get a job. JC: Mm hmm. HG: If you've got anything going for you at all. Norwich used to be able to say, "You're going to get a commission." But that's not true anymore either. JC: No. It's not. 20 HG: The place is not going to sell itself with providing a vocation after you're through. Where this place practically does. So, he was encouraged to go. It's local and so forth. JC: Yeah. So, you didn't have any relatives that attended Norwich? HG: Hmm? JC: You didn't have any relatives that attended Norwich? HG: No. I didn't. I don't have anybody that went to Norwich. No. None of them. JC: Well, is there anything else? HG: No. By golly, we've had quite an enjoyable interview. I've had some fun talking to you. I can't think of much more. JC: Well, I thank you very much. HG: I enjoyed it. Thank you, too. End of recording.

Issue 37.5 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development Immortality, Old Age and Death Developing Constitutions and Directories Volume 37 Number 5 Septe~mber 1978 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1978 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor September, 1978 Volume 37 Number 5 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Not As Demanding an Answer Mary Corona, F.M.D.M. Sister Mary Corona, nurse and mid-wife by profession, has been a religious for 23 years. After fifteen years of service in Zambia, she is presently w6rking at a nursing home of her com-munity: Mount Alvernia; Bramshott Chase; Portsmouth Rd., Near Hindhead; Surrey, En-gland. Recently someone quoted a sister as saying that she will remain in religious life until or unless Mr. Right comes along. With the greatest respect for those who see the crises which presently exist in our religious communities as lying e!sewhere, I would submit that here, in this attitude, is both nut and kernel of the~ pyoblem. How big this. problem is might be difficult to assess, but it would seem fair to suggest that it is as large, or as small, .as the number of sisters dragging along who are oriented in this way. It is true that religious life is bedeviled with all manner of other diffi-culties, but these will never destroy consecrated living. Indeed, they never could;;for consecration is of the heart, and is able to stand against the ebb and .flow of contrary tides--but not that of the uncommitted heart. An-chorless, it drifts aimlessly to and fro. One can only feel a deep compassion for sisters living in this way. They have missed out on both sides of life, and the wonder is that they stay so long. Our way of life has little to offer once theheart grows cold, for all that remains is an existence Centered on regulations, work, meals--and frus-tration. Religious life was never rheant to be like that. It was never meant merely to provide board and lOdging while our heart plays elsewhere. It was never meant simply to provide a base to which we return every so often to pick up our mail and clean clothes. We did not make vows of religion just to obtain financial security, material comfort, and freedom from the re- 641 642 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 sponsibility of rearing a family. Yet all this, and much more, is implicit in an attitude of waiting for some one or something "worthwhile" to come our way. If we come to the point where we see our:institute as something separate from the Person who calls us, there is little wonder we lose our love for it. No one can really love an institution on its own merits. No sane adult waxes lyrical over the government, or glows with love about the local housing department. Institutions, especially legislative ones, are just not things which warm our hearts. Our own institute can soon come to be viewed in much the same way.-.:Once we have lost our focal point all else begins to diSintegrate. Riales become restrictive, authority becomes oppressive, ac-countability is no longer acceptable, and our eyes start roaming the world for a way out. Ways out are not difficult to find, and so the further we get from our committed attitude of heart, the more normal it seems to be wandering abroad. We may still talk bravely about the love of God. But words do not feed a hungry heart, and we are hungry---craving for love as only a woman can crave. Separated from the trtie center of our lives, we will v.ery soon seek out its counterfeit. Borderline friendships, such as sincere married women would consider out of the question, are accepted as offering "meaning" to our drifting lives. Social activities unbecoming to a life consecrated by vow are welcomed as a relief from boredom. Fantasies, imaginings, unrealistic day-dreams eat away at us until, predictably, we file our petition for dis-pensation. What started off as something so glorious finishes with a slip of paper authorizing us to go our way. It would be pleasant to think that this unhappy pic(ure is an exaggeration. But one only has to look back through religious perio~licals covering the last few years, and pick out the articles written by sisters, to find a substantial proportion containing material,of this depressing kind. So, what should our lives be? Although we rub shoulders with many another on our journey through life, in the final analysis it is our own individual experience that shapes our views and convictions. My own con-victions concerning religious life have been crystallized and refined in many a furnace. Therehave been times when it seemed that I, like many another, just did not have the necessary courage to go on. St. Paul seemed to me to have missed the mark when he said, "You will not be tempted beyond your strength," for on those occasions I was being sorely tempted, in a way that seemed to have far outstripped my strength. , Yet it was at this very point each time that help came. Some tremendous force seemed to pluck me out of the fearful void and I was set down once again on firm ground. I now know experientially what I had known pre-viously only on theory, that St. Paul was right in what he said,just as I also know that my vows were a bilateral contract, and God on his side has an obligation to care for me--and he will. I know that however far he tosses Not As DemandinR an Answ~er / 64~ me, he will cradle me again. I know that my life is as inextricably bound up with his as his is with mine. He cannot do without me any more than I can do without him. I might be dispensable to others, but he will never throw me hway. He calls me by my name, softly and gently, not as demanding an answer, but as begging a surrender. I am his cherished one, his beloved child, and all that I do, all the wrong that is in me, will s6mehow be colored by his great ~lo~ve for me. As I grow on awarenes~ of his love, I begin to drop my masks and lower my barriers; I unfold and develop, unconscious of the strength of his con-cern. I'no longer worry~ whether I am worthy to be loved by him--such questionings are futile, for his love is already a fact. I no longer fear to accept his love, worried over my shabbiness, because near him my tatters are transformed. ~. I am aware of my weakness, my need for help, my sometimes inability to "go itS' alone. 1 know that I nee~d friends, I need. encouragement, I n~ed acceptance and love from those around me, for the stuff of my being is human and craves these ~hings. But I do not need a lover, I do not need a Mr. Right. I would have no room for him. I would not know what to do with him, for all the time I would spend with him my heart would be crying out for my true lover, my Lord and Master. I wear His ring on my finger and there it will remain until in death another will remove it, for then all need of visible signs will have passed. I know I have many faults--some glaring, ¯ some tucked away--so be it. He will not allow me to persist in dangerous or damaging attitudes for long, but he will love them out of me, and in his tenderness will leave no scars. I_will never leave him, not through any strength or goodness of mine but because he will not let me go. He bargained for me at too great a price. Why should I want to leave him anyway? What fault can I find in him? Where has . he failed? What promise has he not kept? When has his love grown cold and~ his eyes sought out anothe~r in preference to me? I can accuse him of none of these things. Through~ut my life others have let me down, but him-- never! I have pained and anguished him. I have demanded my head, and he has given it to me. I have argued and tossed the ball with him, provoking a reaction and, having exhausted myself, found his long, beautiful patience waiting quietly to take me back again. I have never received a reprimand, not even in the deepest places of my heart, but in any wrongdoing I have only ever been conscious of his heartbreaking quietness while he waits, and, as we set off together again; it is as though the wandering past had never been. And so my vows and my ~religious life are only means to a glorious end. They are not my life, but the !oom on which the fabric of my life, the fabric of my love is being woven. They will hold all things together for me until the One I have loved so imperfectlyin this life will invite me to quit it and come with him, where, because he will never leave my side, I shall do all 644 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 things perfectly. And then, in the words of that delightful English medieval recluse, Julian of Norwich, "All will be well. All manner of things will be well." This then is what was promised to us on making our religious profession. We were assured that if we faithfully observed all that was implicit in our vows we would attain to eternal beatitude. We took the unknown future on trust, and in its unfolding we have doubtless experienced great joys and rich blessings, both interwoven with a handsome share of heartbreak. Things have changed, people have changed, we ourselves have changed. No one ever promised that it would be otherwise. Yet in all the movement in which we are caught up, God has remained constant. He has not, he does not, he will not change. So infinitely lovable, tantalizingly beautiful, how is it possible for us to want another? We have our Mr. Right, maybe we never stood still long enough to recognize him. Maybe we have never moved in closely enough to experience him. It is never too late, for in his constancy he is still waiting. He has not moved. He will always be waiting while there is the smallest hope that we might turn back. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS HAS MOVED! As of June 19, the editorial office of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has relocated from its Grand Boulevard location to its new address: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development Philip D. CristantiellO Dr. Cristantiello is a consulting psychologist to St. Joseph's Seminary, St. Vincent's Hospital School of Nursing, the Dominican Sisters of Newburg and to Elizabeth Seton College. He resides at 130 Sherwood Ave.; Yonk.ers, NY 10704. Once upon ~. time a person could reiy on .his certainties. They accom-panied him as comfortable companions throughout life. For example, just about everyone knew that the priestho6d was limited to men, that homo-sexuality was not only different but also deviant and that no child born Robert would become, an adult called Roberta. It wasn't even necessary to discuss such matters. They were considered self-evident. Now, however, we have come uncomfortably to the realization that society has taken many of our "knowns" and chan.ged them to."maybes." So it is fitting to discuss the subject of psychosexua! maturity with a certain degree of caution. The views expressed in this paper are directed particularly toward pro-grams of preparation for the priesthood. It is likely, however, that many of the comments will apply to all who have chosen a celibate way of life. After briefly identifying some of my working assumptions, I shall discuss toe topics of sexuality, psychosexual maturity, intimacy and celibacy. In ad-dition, some questions about the effects of a homogeneous environment on preparation for. celibacy will be raised. The final section of the paper will offer some guidelines to seminary educators. Since each of these topics is so complex, 1 have focused my thougl~ts on their psychological aspects. My intent is not to minimize the moral and theological dimensions of these subjects. They are simply beyond my competence and are appropriately left to others. ~ 645 646 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Some Working Assumptions My discussion of psychosexual maturity is based upon certain assump-tions derived from empirical studies of healthy and mature persons and concepts of biological normality.~ These assumptions are: ---All forms of sexual expression are not equally reflective of normal psychosexual development; e.g., homosexuality. --The criteria for judging mature behavior in non-celibates will not necessarily be the same for celibates; e.g., procreation is normative ¯ for the species but trot for religious. --The absence of, or seeming immunity from, sexual striving and stresses is trot necessarily indicative of psychosexual harmony; e.g., the absence of conflict may be due to such mechanisms as repression. ---Mature individuals are not invariably stable or immune to dis-organization; e.g., a priest may have a personal crisis which tem-porarily disrupts confidence in his vocation, but over the long run the quality of his commitment can remain high. ---Strong, persistent motivations will assist the celibate in organizing purposeful-behavior; e.g., Christian directional stability helps one cope in an unstable, value-changing society. --The validity of concepts of psychosexual maturity does not rest upon their being evidenced in the personalities of most religious; e.g., in the Kennedy-Heckler stud), of the priesthood most priests were found to be underdeveloped. This does not mean, however, that psycho-sexual maturity is impossible in the priesthood. ---It is unlikely that I can propose a universally a6cepted concept of psychosexual maturity. The diversity and complexity°w, hich one may find in the experiential world of well functioning celibates has not been adequately researched and studied. Sexuality ' ~ ' The Sexualization of Celibate Life Sexuality is increasingly selected as a topic of discussion by celibates. The appearance of books, workshops, and articles devoted to various as-pects of this subject attest to this assertion. There is an apparent readiness on the part of many persons in religious life to address the phenomenon of "human sexuality. Indeed, there has been a curiously sudden emergence of "expert commentators" on the subject. In the past it was not that religious could deny that sex was a fact of life, but that many celibates simply did not regard it as a useful fact and could more easily avoid its role in their lives. It was not unusual for both religious and laity to think of celibacy as a state of being asexual. Today, with our widespread cul(ural relativism and appearance of psychological sophis- ~Douglas H. Heath, Explorations of Maturity (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1965), pp. 32-34. Warren J. Gadpaille, The Cycles of Sex (New York: Scribners, 1975), pp. 5-7. Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 647' tication, many old views are being displaced. "Experts," even though they be far removed from formation programs, seem capable of speaking at:great length and with great conviction about the preparation of men for priest-hood. However else we may describe these times, most certainly it will not be called an age of humility. Another sign of how sexuality has saturated our culture is that the noun "celibate" appears more and more frequently in print with modifiers like "sexual" or "genital." This facile use of terms does not automatically signify any real move toward maturity; it merely misleads some into think-ing they have made a substantial step in that direction. In such a climate we may start to believe that using the language of sexuality is,synonymous with being mature. The articulated vocabulary of sexuality doesn't easily trans, late into the nonverbal language of behavior. Despite the recent proliferation of publications and the shifts in attitude, I am inclined to believe that the practice of celibacy and the sexuality of celibates is I,argely an unknown. There is .little available evidence from serious, systematic study which adequately describes the impact of celi-bacy on the~lives of~priests and other, religious. We have operate~ with many assumptions and assertions about how difficult ',c, elibacy is, its"impact on personality functioning, and what resources prove us.eful, and which do not, in sustaining a p,erson in a celibate vocation. There is relatively little verifiable information about the d~gree of'sucCess which priests and reli-gious have achteved !,n rema~mng faithful, and not much common agree-ment as to the criteria for defining a healthy celibate life. In addition, the relationship of successful celibate commitment to type of preparation, per-sgnality, work satisfaction and age has not been clearly delineated. It may seem overly ~imple ~to state.my next observation in relation to the practice of celibacy, but sometimes the obvious is neglected. Sexual ab-stinence, like sexual gratification is a part-time, not a full-time experience. Persons who actively gratif.y t.heir sexual needs do not do so continuously any more than celibates have to rehounce genital e~prgssion continuously. The point is that sexual abstinence may have to be continual in religious life, but that d0es" not mean it i~ continuous." While it may be true that we now live in a society which insanely operates as though desire and gratificatio.n were synonymous and need to be experienced simultaneously, we may have been equally absurd in the past by overplaying the sacrificial nature of abstinence. Ih a sense, ~then, in efforts to redress some of the problems associated with an asexual approach, our concept of celibacy now seems to have become rather Sexualized, Education for Sexuality The celibate may a,,ccept~the~fact of his seXuality but it may not help him very ,much because the meaning of this fact keeps changing as the celibate zContinual refers to an indefinite succession or recurrence of events while continuous implies ,an uninterrupted experience with unchanging intensity and'withou~ modulation. Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 advances in age~ He soon learns that becoming an enlightened and re-sponsible sexual being is a life long challenge. Education for a celibate life is not just a task for the young seminarian. Sexuality presents different demands and has different meanings at different points in a person's life. For example, an individual may find the stresses ofa celibate priesthood. more manageable when he is young because a certain proportion of his interactions provide indications that he is regarded as an attractive male. As he ages, such reassuring experiences may0become infrequent and his self-image threatened. He may then become more imprudent in seeking con-firmation of his attracliveness as a man. In addition tothe changing nature of one's sexuality seminaries for the most part did not make it easy for students to acquire the knowledge, attitudes and skills which would enable them to understand what a celibate life-style entailed. While the introduction of courses on human sexuality has been of some help, there is still insufficient opportunity for students to discuss celibate life with priests and women religious because there still exists a sense of vulnerability and embarrassment among these groups. Preparation for a life of celibacy must involve more than such discrete events as coml61etion of a course in human sexuality, making vows or becoming ordained. Such events are no more a guarantee of mature sexual functioning for celibates than falling in love, gel~iing married and procreat-ing are for non-celibates. The seminary should strive: to impart to its stu-dents that the understanding, enjoyment and management of their sexuality is a continuing responsibility which must be shared wiih other persons. This responsibility does not cease with ordination. Al~ter a man leaves the semi-nary, he should be able to look forward to assistance from diocesan-spon-sored programs which will help him fulfill his commitment. Some Problems in Understanding Sexuality It is easy to assert that an understanding of the effect of sexuality on one's vocation depends upon comprehending the nature of sexuality. Such insight, however, is difficult to achieve. Our comprehension of human sexuality has been shaped as much by folklore and fantasy as by science and clinical experience. Our sources of knowledge have often been lacking in reliability. We have been limited as much by resistance in the scientific community as by social inhibitions. And what is perhaps more to the point, it is practically impossible for any individual to know at any given moment how his sexuality is affecting him any more than he generally knows how his circulation is affecting him. High sounding phrases like "sexuality is a fundamental aspect of personality functioning" are not much help in im-proving anyone's understanding of the role of sexuality in the priesthood or any other vocation. In fact, such statements often increase the dilemma because they make many persons feel secretly stupid not knowing more about what is so basic to their nature. For example, is a person':s sexuality minimally operative if he declares, "I do not need relationships with women Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 649 to know that I am male," because this is a fact that he can be sure of by referring to the anatomical evidence at hand? And is his sexuality maxi-mally operative when he admits "I need a woman to feel masculine," because masculinity is not a fact but a value which cannot be judged in the same .way?3 In the first instance the criteria to be used are physiological, whereas in the second they are cultural and subject to changes in value as circumstances of time and place vary. In short, discussing the influence of sexuality may be likened to dealing with a ghost. One can seek it out but never touch it. Psychosexual Maturity While we may readily acknowledge that sexuality is a real and com-prehensive aspect of our relationships with others, we are still left with the question of defining .psychosexual maturity. It is one thing to say that sexuality goes beyond genital expression, quite another to identify a healthy integration of the psychological and physical dimensions of one's behavior. Sexuality's potential is also its problem. A person brings to any human interaction a host of needs, vulnerabilities, attitudes and defenses, and he can manipulate them in a variety of ways. For example, if.an individual wishes to deny responsibility for his sexual acts he may rationalize by saying his behavior is determined by instinctive drives over which he has no control. If he is threatened by the changing roles of women he can extol the importance of tradition and the accuracy of existing male-female stereo-types. If he needs to reassure himself about his masculinity he can refer to the strength and passion of his sex drive. What I hope I am making clear is the complexity associated with psychosexual functioning. It takes a great deal of knowledge, experience and honesty to know whether one's sex-uality is operating as a mature or immature response to another person. There are several other reasons why it is difficult to define psychosexual maturity. First, the characteristics that constitute maturity may simply be those that are esteemed by the author of ttie definition, i.e., the definition may have little to do with objective reality but reflects the personal values of the author. It would be wise to acknowledge, however, that values do play a legitimate 'part in formulating a concept of psychosexual maturity. Even a developmental concept such as Erikson's eight ages of man which rests upon the assumption of an inborn sequence of phases coordinated to the social environment is not readily divorced from the issue of values.4 Secondly, mature men are not static stereotypes. Their individuality aFor a discussion of the differences between males and females, and the distinction between sex and gender, see: Ann Oakley, Sex. Gender and Society (New York: Harper, 1972) and Corinne Hutt, Males and Females (Baltimore: Penguin~, 1972), 4Some of the difficulties associated with defining maturity will be found in: Leon J. Saul and Sydney E. Pulver. "The Concept of Emotional Maturity." Comprehensive Psychiatry. Vol. 6, No. I. February. 1965 and reprinted in Cur~e.nt Issues in Psychiatry. Vol. 2 (New York: Science House, 1967), pp. 231-244. 650 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 remains viable because they haven't allowed themselves to be put into a mold. Studies indicate that "the further., a person develops, the more finely sketched is his individuality."''~ Stereotyped behavior is more com-mon with immaturity. Rogers has pointed out that a mark of maturity is openness to experience and that as this increases the less predictable the person's behavior will be. The person's behavior will be dependably ap-propriate, but not rigidly patterned.~ In short, we cannot expect that all psychosexually mature men will exhibit behavior which is exactly alike. Defining Psychosexual Maturity In offering a definition it is important to distinguish between appropriate and mature behavior. During childhood, adolescence or youth certain di-mensions of an =individual's behavior might be regarded as psychosexually appropriate. That is, his thought, affect or action might be suitable for or fit the appropriate growth period according to Freud's or Erikson's stages of psychosexual development. He would not, however, in my view be characterized aspsychosexually mature because he had not had the fullness of time to permit the development of a deep understanding, full acceptance and ample ripening of his capacities. Psychosexual maturity is evidenced in the fuller, accrued development and harmonious interplay of the individ-ual's psychological and sexual capacities within an ordered and ethical value system. Before discussing some of the behavioral aspects of this 9onstruct, several other generalizations may help clarify my position. Why is a reference to values included in the definition of psychosexual development? Menninger has stated that, "Insofar as choice determines behavior, it stems from some considerations of value.' ,7 Since it would be inconceivable to speak of mature persons without this dimension of choice, psychosexual development cannot be isolated from the influenc(~of values. There is no realistic way of separating the two. Adolescence is not successfully outgrown by sit'ply developing con-fidence in one's sexual and occupational identity. Development toward maturity rests upon the individual's ability to evolve an internalized value system? The individual making such progress, will not only recognize the personal reality of his sexuality, but will seek to identify, question, refine and incorporate a sexual ethic. Thus, the maturing individual discovers not only the vitality of his biological capacities, but also seeks to appreciate their value, understand their meaning and assume personal responsibility '~Roy Heath, The Reasouable Adventurer, A Study of the Development of Thirty-six Under-graduates at Princeton (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1964), p. 38. Also, Douglas A. Heath, Growing Up In College (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1968), pp. 4-19. 6Carl R. Rogers, "The Concept of the Fully Functioning Person," Psychotherapy, Theory, Research and Practice, Vol. I, No. I, August, 1963, pp. 17-26. tRoy W. Menninger, "'No Escape From Values," comment in Current Issues In Psychiatry, Vol. 2, p. 253. 6Warren J. Gadpaille, The Cycles of Sex (New York: Scribners, 1975), p. 338. Psychosexual Maturio, in Celibate Development / 65"1 for their use. His freedom to choose raises the prospect of making enduring commitments to fundamental values. This freedom to choose on the basis of what he values is a "strength-giving and maturing realization. It is the key that opens the door to adulthood.''9 Programs of spiritual development can make significant contributions toward encouraging this aspect of the matUring process. Psychosexual maturity is an approachable ideal but probably not an achievable end. It is more a direction than a destination. Psychosexual maturity is never completely static. Physical maturation, physical and psy-chological needs and human relationships are never finalized. The interplay of desire and control must be addressed again and again. The celibate cannot bank on earlier resolutions to provide certain and continuing pro-tection throughout life. Since personality resonates in response to life events, the celibate cannot be expected to acquire psychosexual maturity during his period of seminary training and possess it securely throughout his ministry. If he faces the vicissitudes of life, his development wili be an ongoing process. On the other hand, if he tended to avoid life's recurrent challenges his development will be retarded. Psychosexual maturity and immaturity will be basically reflected in the motives, feelings and actions that are part of one's interactions with others. In the following sections I shall try to identify psychosexual maturity and immaturity in more specific terms. Idehtifying Psychosexual Maturity Erikson has commented that "To know that adulthood is generative, does not necessarily mean that one must produce children. But it means to know what one does if one does not.''~° In assessing psychosexual ma-turity, one must ask what happens to the celibate's deferred generativity. Does it, like the poet Hughes puts it, "dry up like a raisin in the sun"?~ If we follow Erikson's thought, the potential to be generative exists in all celibates who concern themselves with the "establishment, the guidance, and the enrichment of the living generation and the world it inherits."v' It is clear, therefore, that potential ig not sufficient. Thus, the psychosexually mature celibate must keep his creative powers alive and utilize them in some publicly identifiable way. There must be a behavioral service to others, guided by an enlarged sense of communal responsibility for the enrichment and enhancement of the whole cycle of life. The mature celibate's generativity is principally demonstrated by an expansion of his ego-interests. An example of this might be a faculty mem-ber investing his energies in the development of seminarians. The young would not be suspect or feared. The faculty member would view his stu- ~Peter Koestenbaum, Existential Sexuality (Engelwood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall. 1974), p. 143. ~0 Erik H. Erikson, Dimensions of a New .Identity (New York: Norton, 1974), pp. 122-123. ~Langston Hughes, Selected Poems (New York: Knopf, 1959), p. 268. ~-"Erik H. Erikson, p. 123. 652 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 dents as a "welcome trust" for future generations. His work would be motivated by a caring commitment to help others share in the benefits that have accrued to him. The more mature a celibate is, the more his vision will extend beyond the topography of skin. Relationships with members of the opposite sex will be less a question of responding to a physically attractive person and more a caring response for what is good in the person. Such a view permits the celibate to direct his sexuality beyond genital expression. His attentiveness to others' needs is flexible rather than fixated. His sexuality functions not only to make him attentive to the sexuality of others, but also to be in-sightful. Without insight his sense of celibate commitment will not find appropriate expression. This means being able to experience and acknowl-edge the attraction between himself and a member of the opposite sex without, as Farber put it, "the intervention of sex as motive or compul-sion.'' 13 He experiences his sexuality without guilt or denial and he pursues his relationship without the motivation of physical union. When he touches another person it is an expression of warmth, not a covert maneuver to incite physical arousal in himself or the other. The psychosexually mature celibate loves individuals, not an abstract form of humanity. He can be psychologically intimate with persons of either sex without domination, possessiveness, jealousy or genital expression. When problems arise intra-psychically or interpersonally he assumes responsibility for getting help without protracted delays. The psychosexually mature adult is able to recognize and commit him-self to values, cope with value conflicts, and assume responsibility for the consequences of his choices. The more mature he is, the more voiced values will coincide with his private thoughts and behavior. His sexual urges will not put his value system and behavior "out of sync." In ad-dition, what he values will be prized and not treated routinely. He will see his ethical principles as having validity apart from, but not necessarily opposed to, the authority figures in his life. In other words, his valuing process is alive and well--not latent, deferred or unconscious. While it is impossible to delineate all aspects of psychosexual maturity, there are three additional points of reference which may be useful in as-sessing psychosexual functioning. The first is that the more mature a person is the more he will possess awareness. His mental life will not be walled off from his bodily functioning and powers. The mature celibate will be able to recognize and draw inferences from his sexual responses as they affect his interactions. The second is that his response to the requirement of celibacy will be more than acquiescence or conformity. He will have understood what he was choosing and was willing to accept it without bitterness. The more that an individual finds celibacy an ifiaposition, the more it will di-minish his degree of psychosexual harmony, just as the more he is re- ~Leslie H. Farber, "'He Said, She Said," Commentary, March 1972, p. 53. Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 653 pressed sexually the more his awareness will be constricted. The third point of reference is the individual's commitment to synthesis. If he is unable to take the various dimensions of himself and integrate them with his Christian commitment be'will be a fragmented personality. There must be a harmony bet.ween thinking, feeling, and acting if the individual is to move toward psychosexual maturity in religious life. Recognizing Psychosexual Immaturity When a celibate's thought, affect or behavior becomes absorbed with compensatory processes, his level of maturity may be questioned. Some examples of immature compensatory measures for the lack of genital ex-pression are: vicarious participation in the heterosexual experiences of parishioners or psychic over-involvement in seminarians' conflict about celibacy; absorption with making one's physical appearance attractive so as to gain admiration as a substitute for the absence of sexual contact; denying or demeaning the value and pleasure of genital expression.; and taking refuge in consoling fantasies of sexual gratification and conquest. A per-son's psychosexual development will not endure the challenges of celibacy very well if it rests upon a foundation of compensatory measures. The way in which a celibate experiences required heterosocial limita-tions and sexual abstinence is indicative of his level of psychosexual ad-justment. Neither gratification nor frustration exist in abstract form; both have cognitive aspects which affect emotions and behavior. For example, sexual abstinence can be experienced by the individual as frustration, i.e., lack of opportunity to achieve a desired pleasure, or it can be experien.ced as deprivation, i.e., something which he has been unfairly kept from en-joying. The difference between experiencing a sense of loss and sacrifice (frustration) and a sense of being forcibly dispossessed (deprivation) is a fine distinction in perception. Nonetheless, it is one which will profoundly color the celibate's response, influencing both his mood and behavior. The first type of perception can lead to the learning of tension and frustration tolerance which is an essential ingredient in healthy ego development. The second type of perception can lead to covert gratifications and severe intrapsychic conflicts. More generally, the more that a person's relationships are determined by subjective states of deprivation (e.g., loneliness) or physical drives (e.g., erotic urges), the more easily his judgment will be impaired, his behavior driven and his communication pressured. Under such conditions his sex-uality will keep him awake but not very alert or smart. It will be increasingly difficult for him to keep from narrowing the focus of his attention, and his interactions with others will be directed toward goals which he indepen-dently determines. The more that a person ,has been unable to accept and integrate his sexuality, the more he will use defense mechanisms like re-pression and projection to alleviate h.i~guilt. t554 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Psychosexual immaturity is bound up with the individual's personality dynamics. A comparison may help clarify this generalization. A passive-submissive celibate is likely to wait for a seductive situation to short-circuit his own vague intentionality, while an obsessive-compulsive will rely on some feared imperative to insulate himself from his sexuality. The pas-sive- submissive tends to relinquish his own indefinite goals under someone else's influence while the obsessive-compulsive, unable to compromise his perfectionism, seeks an unquestionable tenet to banish doubt from his decisions. The first exaggerates the extent to which his behavior has been determined by external circumstance, the second invokes an authoritative precept to relieve him of personal responsibility. Both suffer from a de-ficient sense of autonomy which in turn diminishes the degree of psycho-sexual maturity. An attempt to recognize immaturity is not a trivial matter. There is no universally accepted compendium or list of mature and immature behav-iors. In addition, the attempt is to illuminate psychosexual behavior not codify it. One cannot take a complex concept like psychosexual maturity and reduce it to a systematic and definitive collection of behaviors. This does not mean, however, that questions about a celibate's psychosexual maturity are to be dismissed cavalierly. The difficulties associated with such an assessment do not negate the fact that the quality of a person's psychosexual functioning impinges upon the effectiveness of his ministry to others. Immaturity is not a private affair. Wherever it exists it draws at-tention to itself and spreads like a contagion sapping energy from the maturity of others. Celibacy and Intimacy , Intimacy The. term intimacy enjoys a leading place in the popular idiom of celi-bates almost to the point of being accorded reverential respect. Despite the difficulty of offering fresh comment on something so in fashion, the subject is ,too central to be avoided. One reason why intimacy attracts such concern is the interpersonal mobility required of priests. Many pastoral contacts are so compressed in time they end up being fragmentary relationships. In addition, each time a priest takes a new assignment, a certain number of friends are lost. Replacement of such friendships is difficult, especially for those with limited flexibility. These factors, combined with others (e.g. ,job dissatisfaction) can create an overpowering sense of isolation and thereby threaten one's psychosexual adjustment. In spite of our tendency to venerate intimacy, it is not a universally desired experience. The prospect of closeness may repel as often as it attracts. In intimacy one gives up control of what is seen by the other. One cannot enjoy privacy without being, in a sense, "public." Thus, a major question facing a person who commits himself to celibate life is deciding Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 655 whether he will share his real identity with that of others. If he did not choose the vocation to avoid intimacy, he assumes a major task in deter-mining how to share his personal self. To what extent can an adult ex-perience love or develop close relationships with other adults when geni-tality is renounced? A loving sexual union permits a truly intimate self-disclosure; an unfeared self-abandonment and loss of ego boundaries that non-genital friendships seemingly cannot match. How is the celibate to prevent an atrophy of his capacity for intimacy and not isolate himself with self-absorption? These questions are important because the strength de-rived from successfully managing the issue of intimacy vs. isolation is necessary for further psychosexual development. The usual answer to the questions posed is that a celibate can satisfy his needs for intimacy in non-genital friendships. This, of course, can be a normal and satisfactory means of self-disclosure for experiencing oneness with another. In this regard one of the usual cautions cited is that "celibate people need to be aware of the difference between intimacy, tactility and genitality.''~'~ I do agree with Goergen's suggestion that celibates need to distinguish these dimensions of relating. I think, however, that in otir warn-ings to celibates about the dangers of touch and sexual expression in friend-ships we have neglected an aspect of non-geriital relating that is more likely to impede a successful resolution of the intimacy vs. isolation question. This negative'aspect of relating to which I refer will be termed protective partnerships. Erikson has defined readiness for intimacy as the capacity to commit oneself "to cbncrete affiliations and partnerships and to develop the ethical strength to abide by such commitments, even though they may call for significant sacrifices and compromises.''~ While many men in seminaries do develop group affiliations and personal friendships, these relationships sometimes reflect an unhealthy degree of mutuality. We have all heard about the possessiveness of "particular friendships," but the issue I wish to address is more a question of protection than control. A protective partnership involves a largely unrecognized conspiracy of two or more persons to maintain isolation and distance from others. The partners in-dulge each other's' sensitivities in a form of pseudo-intimacy. ~his relieves them of having to deal with the challenges of being intimate with others outside their clique. The partnership also serves to protect those involved from psychic injury and thr~ats ofdisconfirmation (e.g., from the needs aiad ideas of those outside the group). Individuals caught up in such protective alliances are uncomfortable with expressing personal needs and feelings outside the partnership. It makes them feel infantilized or overly vulner-able. Intimacy outside the safe confines of the partnership is avoided be- ~'~Daniel Goergen, The Sexual Celibate (New York: Seabury, 1974), p. 159. ~Erik H. Erikson, "'Eight Ages of Man," reprinted in Current Issues In Psy,chiatry, Vol. 2., p. 253. 656 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 cause of distrust, anticipated ridicule, .fear of increased dependency or loss of control of emotion. They will rarely offer or accept intimacy outside the partnership. Protective partnerships are an inadequate resolution of the intimacy question. They pose more danger to an effective ministry than sexual in-discretions. Since they permit only weak identifications with persons out-side the boundaries of the partnership, such relationships discourage the development of empathy for others and set the stage for a righteous in-sularity. Thus, the celibate while believing he has become intimate has actually developed a Woclivity for provincialism and isolation. His further development toward stages 9f generativity and ego integrity is impaired. P. sychosexual maturity, particularly for the celibate, requires the ability to develop expanding rather than constricting identifications. Another thing which will hinder possibilities for genuine intimacy is an inadequate concept of celibacy. Individuals who have neglected serious examination of their own concept of celibacy or who operate with only a vague set of feelings about its meaning are unprepared for intimacy because they are unprepared for commitment. Celibacy without conviction is a form of sexual suicide. In an excellent paper on the psychology and asceticism of priestly celibacy Pable offers several sophisticated insights which can help remedy such limitations.'~ For the young person in a formation pro-gram, however, there are more basic points that need to be addressed, First, it is not uncommon to find that seminarians will become rather insecure if they discover a discrepancy between the degree of confidence they feel about a call to the priesthood and their acceptance of the celibacy requirement. Often they do not become aware of this lack of internal con-sistency until they are in advanced stages of preparation for their vocation. The way in which seminarians deal with this dilemma varies of course, but frequently the conflict is inadequately evaluated or avoided. Avoidant be-havior is not confined to students, however, for seminary educators are sometimes equally adept in delaying or delimiting opportunities to discuss celibacy. The inclusion of formal courses in human sexuality rarely rem-edies this situation completely. Often a main effect of such courses is to bring such conflicts to a level of consciousness without resolution of the concomitant anxiety. Secondly, when sexual fears and impulses are regarded as signs of weakness and as constituting a grave threat to one's vocation, attempts at emotional overcontrol are set in motion. A premature identification with celibacy is one means of putting such concerns to rest. Then, at some later stage, sufficient ego strength will have occurred permitting these concerns to resurface. For these reasons it is important to have competent counseling services on hand so that students can be readily assisted in understanding and dealing with such conflicts. Many of these students can eventually make a sound commitment to celibacy. ~nMartin W. Pable. ~'The Psychology and Asceticism of Celibacy," Seminao' Newsletter Supplement, No, 5, Vol. 13, February 1975. Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 657 Clinical experience indicates that one should not assume the existence of a secure, firm acceptance of the celibacy requirement simply because students do not verbalize their uncertainties. On the other hand, seminary educators should not be quick to judge a student as unsuitable if he does raise questions or expose his doubts. Instances in which the celibacy issue was deferred or submerged until some external circumstance disturbed an earlier, and sometimes premature adaptation to the requirement are not unusual. Such a state of affairs may simply indicate that other aspects of the individual's development (e.g., intellectual learning) had to occur before the meaning of celibacy could be faced. Increasingly, students are taking initiatives in bringing their questions about celibacy into an open forum. Yet, there still remain in the minds of many seminarians strong fears that, if one were to air his true feelings, reprisals in the form of peer rejection and dismissal from the program might result. Thus, many go their own way for protracted periods of time without assistance in dealing with such internal tensions, thereby creating more ¯ problems for themselves and others. It is essential that seminary educators provide the kind of climate in which students feel secure enough to expose where they are at in their development. In the absence of the trusting climate, self-concealment reigns. In an untrusting climate the prospects of self-disclosure are decreased. This leads students to believe intima~cY is only possible in exceptional relationships. In such a climate associations with peers and fa6uity will be reduced to role playing in which the student seeks to conceal important dimensions of his psychosexual development. Even when he seeks inti-macy his tendency will be to obtain reassurances rather than candid en-counters which could challenge self-assumptions and expand knowledge of the quality of his psychosexual functioning. While any move toward intimacy is fraught with risks, e.g., rejection, exploitation and protective partnerships, it is nonetheless essential for healthy personality development in the young. Intimacy helps attenuate attitudes of egocentrism, suspicion, jealousy and omnipotence--all of which represent substantive obstacles to an effective ministry. Human sexuality is a stimulus to move toward others and away from self-cen-teredness. Without the challenge of intimate relationships the seminarian's potential for genuine altruism remains quiescent. A third point deserving consideration is the common practice of re-ferring to celibacy as a gift. This gift analogy can be psychologically mis-leading to the young person. Much of one's youthful experience indicates that a gift is a material thing, and that one can (or must) accept a gift whether one wants it or deserves it? With such an orientation to the gift analogy the seminarian may fail to give sufficient attention to his own readiness for celibacy, thereby setting the stage for problems after ordination. For when celibate Status is viewed as a thing given rather than attained, it is more likely to be passively possessed until "stolen, lost or given away." Thus, Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 if one insists, on using the gift analogy it should be stressed that the gift is a sacred trust and that its possessor has an obligation to prepare himself before it can be put to proper use. The proper exercise of such a gift depends upon personal effort to acquire the necessary knowledge and maturity. It should be evident at this point that my discussion of celibacy has proceeded in an explicitly psychological fashion. However, the question of celibacy obviously has religious value and theological meaning. Have I, then, given short shrift to these important dimensions of the celibate com-mitment? Specifically, has my concentration on personal development and effort slighted the importance of God's call and grace? I think not. Indeed, .my persuasion is that psychological analysis and theological insight are complementary. Grace does not replace the human process of develop-ment. It strengthens and perfects that process. And for God's call to be fruitful, it must be integrated into the mature growth of the human subject. Thus, the theological language of "gift" must be complemented by the psychological insistence upon mature human development if the entire sweep of human experience is to be engaged and the full implications of commitment are to be grasped. Creativity in Intimacy and Celibacy In completing this section on celibacy and intimacy I want to introduce the~subject of creativity for two reasons. First, I want to counter the popular tendency, to view intimacy solely in term~ of close and affectionate personal relationships. Such a concept of intimacy is too limiting, particularly for persons who will be living a celibate life. There is need to recognize another kind of intimacy which, while involving deep understanding and sensitive response, does not depend upon a mutual opening of hearts. I am referring to what, fof lack of a better label, may be termed creative intimacy. The person who is capable of this kind of intimacy has reached a level of psychosexual development which permits committed and perceptive re-lationships without the reassuring prerequisite of secret emotional ties. The research physician who invents a novel and needed procedure, the archi-tect who designs appropriate housing for unique terrain and the scholar's treatise which brings order out of confusion are all examples of a com-mitment to intimacy. Each establishes a link between the complexities of external demands and inner personal resources. A celibate who is. capable of involved interest with a subject (e.g., Scripture), a place (e.g., his parish) or a group (e.g., the aged) is not apt to suffer from a sense of isolation. In short, it is possible to relate intimately to life by being deeply affected by and responsive to ideas, situations and problems without requiring sexual union or an emotional heart transplant as a condition for an enriching experience. The creative person's contributions to society are evidence of this unconventional form of intimacy. A second reason for focusing on creativity is that its place in the prep- Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 659 aration of men for celibate life has received insufficient attention despite the fact that it has long enjoyed a respectable status in educational circles. By way of illustration consider the following questions: (1) What priority do psychological screening programs place on identifying creative capacities in candidates for priesthood? (2) How much do we know (or utilize what is known) about how creativity may be linked to the sub-limation of the sex. drive? (3) To what extent are seminary educators con-tentto rely on those tired, thoughts which assert that creative individuals cannot survive seminary environments, are troublesome to superiors, and that creativity is largely a product of inheritance? It seems ironic that we who identify God as Creator, and man as having been created in his image can manage to prepare men for a celibate priesthood with so little emphasis upon the identification and encouragement'of creativity. Seminaries have yetto acknowledge through curriculum design that a celibate's creativity is a most valuable resource in coping with the daily stresses of life. In a previous section the question was asked, "What happens tO the celibate's deferred: generativity?" Perhaps another way of answering this question can be found in linking celibate status with creativity. Specifically, celibacy can be viewed as a distinctive means of being consciously cre-ative. In associating celibacy with creativity I am thinking of MacKinnon's statement that true creativity fulfills at least three conditions: (1)originality, (2) adaptiveness, and (3) realization .~7 As for the first (originality), celibacy is an idea that is always novel, unique, or at least statistically infrequent. As for the second point, celibacy is adaptive in that it serves to fit the situation of ministry to accomplish some recognizable g0al. And to the third condition (realization)~ celibacy involves sustaining the original work of Jesus and further extending it in time. With this perspective we may de-crease the likelihood that celibacy will be viewed as a static, asexual status. Instead, celibacy will be seen as a more active, generative relationship with the world. The Homogenous Environment Life in an all male environment is not an asexual experience. The stu-dent's premises about his sexual identity, his level of self-esteem and his interest in persons of either sex do not remain static during the seminary years as though preserved in a time capsule. They continue to be chal-lenged, modified and shaped' by the character of the environment. For many years the average seminarian lives, studies and recreates in an environment which provides minimal contact with or input from women. What lesson is learned by this absence of women? How well does this help seminarians make the transition to our highly seductive society? How does this prepare them to develop more than a theoretical understanding of the lrDonald W~ MacKinnon, "The Nature and Nurture of Creative Talent." Lecture given at Yale University,New Haven, Conm, April I I, 1962. 660 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 needs, abilities and conflicts of women who may come to them for counsel? Celibacy has to be lived in a heterosexual society. Rules against hetero-social contacts during periods of formation do not guarantee proper de-velopment. If seminarians have to compensate for the lack of women in their edu-cational experience, they will attempt to do so without the guidance of their faculty. They will use apostolic assignments or vacations to seek both heterosocial and heterosexual experiences which would otherwise be de-nied them during regular periods of education. In some instances, the relationships which develop will be maintained in secret. Such experiences are often invested with many romantic and sometimes bizarre fantasies of meaning. They also provoke much guilt and tension and sometimes incite fears which are repressed, producing unconscious conflicts with conse-quent anxiety. It has become increasingly evident that when problems of relating to women have to be faced in secret it makes for lonely failures. The seminarian who is separated and/or alienated from women for whatever reason (fear, ignorance, choice or official policy) must turn with more urgency upon himself or others in his immediate environment to meet his needs for recognition, affiliation and love. In such homogenous popula-tions, expressions of affection and physical contact are cautiously exposed and become over-invested with meaning. There is an ever present fear that such gestures will be interpreted as, or turn into, homos6xual intimacies. This kind of tension often remains unacknowledged, but is nonetheless virulent. It produces much frustration and resentment which is often en-countered by the psychologist in the form of depression, displaced ag-gression, problems of concentration, coldness in interpersonal contacts, compulsive masturbation, isolation, and the rise of tight cliques. Each institution should provide appropriate opportunities for seminarians to learn about, and become comfortable with, members of the opposite sex. "Social restrictions" and "sexual abstinence" should not be confused. The concepts are not isomorphic. Policies and regulations which forbid or delimit heterosocial contacts do not automatically insure healthy attitudes toward self-regulation or guarantee the development of the capacity for abstinence in later life. Celibates also need to realize that abstinence does not automatically confer the capacity to love people in general any more than incontinence in marriage increases love for someone in particular. Neither the frustration nor the expression of the sex drive is innately di-rected toward the good. The capacity for sex in humans simply endows them with the potential of becoming psychosexually mature. It is in inter-actions with others that opportunities for growth and understanding de-velop. The Environment's Models Seminary administrators must realistically assess the extent to which members of their faculty are prepared by virtue of education, experience Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 66"1 and personal disposition to participate in those aspects of the formation program which relate :to human sexuality. Many priests have had poor preparation and limited experience and would be ill at ease or unsuited for such responsibility. It would be unfair and unwise to neglect such con-siderations. If present faculty are not comfortable with their own sexuality or are incompetent in their understanding of it, they cannot project them-sel~, es as adequate role models or teach effectively. Example is stronger than precept. Students need visible proof that it is possible to be mature and well-integrated sexually in the priesthood. There is nothing more demor-alizing to seminarians than examples of underdeveloped faculty charged with responsibility for their preparation of a life of celibate ministry. Modeling is a powerful force for formation and growth. It assists the seminarian in coping with the stresses of his environment, aids in the development of responsibility and helps perpetuate the valu6s that define the priesthood. More than anything else, a seminary must offer models who are worthy of imitation. Such models should be capable of candid con-versations concerning celibacy. They should exhibit desirable patterns of male-female interaction. They should be persons who have not distanced themselves from their own sexuality. They should not be overly constricted academicians or overly eager confidantes who take students under their wing to protect them from conflicts with celibacy. The, y should be able to take questions from Students without becoming overly threatened, angry or embarrassed. They should be the kind of advisers who are not impelled to define venereal sin whenever a student discloses a sexual problem. I emphasize the importance of appropriate role models because they are the most available source of identification with the priesthood. Good mod-els teach and motivate simultaneously. On the other hand, poor models lead to unhealthy identifications and raise the anxiety leV,el of students. For example, seminarians exposed to poor models are apt to say to t.hemselves, "Will I turn out like him ?" when they should be saying about a good model, "I want to be like him." Healthy identification reduce~ fear and anxiety about the priesthood. When a seminarian can identify with an exemplary person, his sub-jectiv~ benefit is that he believes he is part of the exemplary person. When that happens, he is freer to ease away from infantile or regressive tend-encies. He gives up his more childish and selfish desires because he is acquiring positive, generative adulthood in return. Good faculty models can illustrate that genital expression is not the essence of warmth, masculinity, and friendship. Seminaries, like other educational institutions, have faculties which possess a range of competencies and wide variations in levels of maturity. This is not the issue. The significant issue is how we recognize this fact of life. This recognition should take the form of careful assignment of re-sponsibility in this area, use Of competent consultants, and support for regular in-service training and continuing education for the faculty. 662 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 With a view toward offering more specific suggestions for helping semi-narians' progress toward sexual maturity the following guidelines are offered: I. Maintain high standards in the selection of candidates. This would require'defining criteria, and training the admissions committee to do its job well. The seminary environment is not suited to be a place where major reconstructive therapy can be conducted. Persons of weak char-acter, sociopathic tendencies and serious personality defects may find the seminary environment a haven for their limitations, but once or-dained they do not make good priests. They eventually create compli-cated and expensive personnel-management problems, alienate the laity, perform po6rly and thereby threaten the work of their colleagues, and remain visibly inadequate models for attracting future vocations. 2. Provide professional counseling as a regular part of seminar3, services. This will enable students with relatively minor psychological problems to be assisted in their development. In addition, each seminary envi-ronnhent will inevitably produce certain situational dist~arbances in a proportion of its students. These are transient disorders from a mild to severe nature which occur without any underlying mental pathology. They represent normal reactions to such stressful factors as disruption of previously established interpersonal relationships, fear of faculty dis-approval and unfamiliar academic demands. It is important to detect and recognize such adjustment reactions quickly and have counseling ser-vices available to help students cope. Sometimes an orientation course for first year men will head off some of these situational disorders. 3. Course offerings in the area of human sexuality and the practice of celibacy should be characterized by providing: (a) competence: they should offer suffi~:ient scientific content and contemporary material to enable s, tudents to learn the facts, social attitudes and real problems associated with human sexu.ality; (b) comfort: opportunity to discuss, question and dialogue without threat of ridicule, embarrassment, or fear of faculty or peer censure; (c) conviction: conveying in unmistakable terms.that growth in psychosexual maturity is a life long task which is part of every individual's priestly responsibility. " 4. Include women in the program in more than token fashion. Women can contribute as lecturers, panelists, and consultants. A feeling of security with women and an appreciation of their needs, values and competencies cannot be acquired in an all-male program. Their inclusion should not be prompted by condescension. For example, they should be included not to demonstrate that "women think diffeyently," but rather that they do think. The exclusion of women .hampers seminarians' development more than it insures it. 5. Exercise greater care in assessing readiness for celibacy. Programs of formation may need to place greater emphasis on assessing an indi- Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 663 vidual's psychological readiness to commit himself to celibacy. One must not assume that a seminarian's advancement in academic prepa-ration is indicative of other aspects of his readiness for priesthood. Conclusion In this paper sexuality and maturity were discussed in relation to celi-bate development. By general comment and specific illustration I attempted to show that psychosexual maturity is not only an abstract concept .but also an identifiable reality. I also tried to indicate that progress toward psycho-sexual maturity is made more by choice than chance, more by intelligent effort than passivity. In the process of offering these comments much emphasis was placed on what seminary educators can do to foster healthy celibate development. It would be misleading to leave the impression that I wished to understate the role of the individual. The young celibate must be encouraged and assisted to develop an increasing level of personal accountability for his psychosexual functioning. This can only be accom-plished if we view immaturity as a responsibility, not a crime to be followed by punishment or self-hate. Now Available As A Reprint Psychosexual Maturity in , Celibate Development by Philip D. Cristantiello Price: $.60 ~per copy, plus postage. Address" Review for Religious Room 428 6301 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis Robert F. Morneau Father Morneau's name is familiar to our readers. He resides at Holy Reedemer Center and teaches at Silver Lake College; Manitowoc, WI 54220. In teaching people the truths about his Father's kingdom, Jesus often used examples from nature: the simple sparrow, the lush lilies of the field, the unfortunate fig tree, the nonverbal clues of the sky, the miraculous yeast. Through these concrete images, deeper mysteries were unveiled opening the minds and hearts of people to the marvels of God's gracious love. We can do no better than to fall back on nature to attempt, through the use of analogy, to ponde~ the multifold facets of our faith. From the world of biology comes the notion of homeostasis which can assist us in under-standing the necessity of grounding our lives on solid rock. Dr. Hans Selye summarizes the essential meaning of this biological principle: It was the great French physiologist Claude Bernard who during the second half of the nineteenth century--well before anyone thought of stress--first pointed out clearly that the internal environment (the milieu interieur) of a living organism must remain fairly constant despite changes in its external environment, lie realized that "'it is a fixity of the mi6eu interieur which is the condition of free and independent life.'" Some fifty years later, the distinguished American physiologist, Walter B. Cannon suggested that "the coordinated physiological processes which maintain most of the steady states in the organism" should be called "'homeostasis" (from the Greek homoios, meaning similar, and stasis, meaning position), the ability to stay the same, or static. Homeostasis might roughly be translated as 'bstaying power."'~ ~Hans Selye, M.D., Stress Without Distress (New York: J. B. Lippincott Company,1974), pp. 34-35. 664 Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 665 The homeostatic principle, as applied to the external world, needs little documentation as to its importance due to the writings in the field of ecology. What needs considerable reflection is the importance and meaning of spiritual homeostasis, that reality in our spiritual lives which is the force enabling us to maintain a certain level of stability despite radical and often-times violent changes in our external environment. Spiritual homeostasis is the cultivation of a certain internal stability, developed through grace and discipline, that enables a person to "weather" the trials, temptations and sufferings of life in a reasonable manner. Several examples from observable nature might help in understanding the notion of homeostasis. A palm tree survives the violence of a hurricane because its roots (homeostatic elemen~t) are deeply embedded in the soil; the March kite maintains a modicum of stability because of its carefully attached tail; the sailboat does not become the plaything of the strong breeze because of its rudder. Roots, a weighted rag, and a vertical board each provide stability despite elements of stress and strain. By way of comparison, each of us must face the demands of life, demands arising from within and without. If we are not to be carried away by the high winds of life, there must be some grounding element providing continuity and sta-bility. This essay is a consideration of this grounding, of our spiritual homeostatic principle. A note of caution is in order: the inward journey, made either to con-struct our inner principles or to examine the ones that already direct our lives, involves risks and the universal fears 9f travelers. Carl Jung wrote of these risks: Wherever there is a reaching down into innermost experien~:e, into the nucleus of personality, most people are overcome by fright, and many run away . the risk of inner experience, the adventure of the spirit, is in any case, alien to most human beings,z Of a!l the reasons for hesitating to make the journey, perhaps the great-est fear lies in the possibility that we will find nothing there--no homeo-static principle grounding our lives in "substance." For all our talk, re-flecting and apodictic shouting, the interior could be empty--and who could live if that were true? Dante, in describing the precious coin of faith (the ultimate homeostatic principle) and its fine attributes, dares to ask the fatal question: Well have we examined The weight and alloy of this precious coin; But tell me if thou hast it in thy purse? 3 ~C. G. Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections, recorded and edited by Aniela Jaffa, translated from the German by Richard and Clara Winston (New York: Vintage Books, 1961). pp. 140-141. 3Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy, translated by Lawrence Grant White (New York: Pantheon Books, 1948), Canto 24, p. 171. 666/Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Just as the kite's tail needs periodic mending, just as the sailboat's rudder needs annual repairs', just as the tree's roots need constant contact with the dark rich soil, so each of us must make our own inward journey, despite risks and fears, to examine the quality and growth of our ho-meostatic principle. Let us take St. Paul as our "case study" and attempt to isolate his homeostatic principle. Even if the attempt fails, enough insight, might be provided for each of us to either clarify or construct our own spiritua! anchor. Pauline scholars might opt for one of the following passages as being central to Paul's spirituality, central in that all of life's experiences might be related to it for meaning and insight: Let your thoughts be on heavenly things, and n6t on things that are on earth, because you have died, and now the life you ha're is hidden with Christ in God.4 And I live now not with my own life but with the life of Christ who lives in me? Though not excluding the central~messages in the above two passages, my own personal choice of Paul's homeostatic principle comes from a passage in his letter to the Ephesians: Blessed be God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. who has blessed us with all ihe spiritual blessings of heaven in Christ. Before the world was made, he chose us, chose us in Christ, to be holy and spotless, and to live through love in his presence . ~ Taking as an hypothesis, that "to live through love in his presence" was Paul's spiritual cable, what are some of the implication's of this homeostatic principle? To Live: Union with the Spirit The Pepsi generation shouts out the challenge: Come alive! Whether or not a carbonated soda can achieve such a towering feat ~could be ques-tioned; the challenge cannot. We are called to choose life (Dt 30:15-20), to share in the fullness of life (Jn 10:10), to live injustice, love and faith (Mi 6:8). Yet, because of collective and personal sin, our existences are frag-mented and our potential lies dormant under piles of "shoulds," "tomor-rows," and "new years." We see but do not comprehend, listen but do not understand, touch but remain unaffected. Walter Kerr sees our dilemma in this light: If I were required to put into a single sentence my own explanation of the state of our hearts, heads, and nerves, 1 would do it this way: we are vaguely wretched because we are leading half-lives, halfheartedly, and with only one-half of our minds actively engaged in making contact with the universe about us.r 4Colossians 3:2-3. (All scriptural quotations are taken from the Jerusalem Bible.) ~Galatians 2:20. 6Ephesians 1:3-4 (italics mine, indicating the Pauline homeostatic principle). 7Walter Kerr, The Declhte of Pleasure (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1962), p. 12. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 667 Every so often someone crosses our path whose very spirit exudes life. Sparkling eyes, a lightness of voice, gentle responses, all mark a sense of meaningand motivation. A personal creativity overflows, smoldering wicks and healing,crushed reeds (Is 42:3). Such a presence is anticipated with longing and remembered with joy. He gives life because he has life within. A .quality of transparency allows all he meets to. taste and see life itself. In the presence of such a life-giver the question spontaneously arises: "What is all .this juice and all this joy (Hopkins)?" The Christian traces such a spirited life to the Spirit. God the Father and "therisen Lord haye sen't, into all creation their Spirit. Whoever receives this Spirit truly comes alive. Whoever refuses the Spirit or fails to recognize the the Spirit's presence lives in darkness, half-alive, wallowing in ignorance and fear, fretting'in anxieties and tears, doubting the meaning of existence. A spiritless Macbeth, no longer able to sustain his guilt, attempts to pre-serve. a modicum of sanity,by denying,the meaning of life: Out, bul brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And t.hen is heard no more;it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Sign.ifying nothing,s Without the Spirit darkness reigns and we curse that darkness. Life be-comes a burden too difficult to bear,and freedom a poisonous responsibility. St. Paul was graced with the gift of the Spirit. To live was to be in conscious, personal union, with this Reality and to act from this center. Three basic forms of acting out a Spirit-transformed mind and heart include a spirit of loving attention, a spirit of joyful mortification and a spirit of courageous action. Aliveness in Paul's life embraces a balanced life of prayer, asceticism and apostolate, all flowing from his being loved by God and attempting to live in return. The quality and tonality of,the response is crucial. Each of these three areas, though of significance in and of them-selves, is entirelydifferent when shared in fellowship with the Spirit and is essentially response, to a personal invitation to communicate with, to suffer with, and to work with the Spirit of the Father and the Son. This divine companionship doubles all the victories in .building up the kingdom and halves the apparent defeats. Spirit of loving attention. It is possible to be attentive to someone or something without love. The hostile stare or the crowded "personless" elevator ride are two instances. A vague'love is also possible, unable to center on a defined object: "I love humanity but find it difficult to love individual people." Such forms of attentiveness and unspecified love do not allow us to live fully, God's Spirit draws us to truly :see, perceive, com-prehend the creation in which we live. Pausing to be embraced by a spring 8William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act V, sc. v, lines 23-28. 661~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 flower, stopping suddenly to be swept heavenward by a starry night, being swept off one's feet by a warm night breeze are strains of deeper mysteries and realities. So many layers blocking our sensitivity must be penetrated if we are to be touched by outside realities; so much cluttering has made us inattentive to the voices of friends and the needs of the wounded, Poets are eternal prophets calling all of us to attention, to a loving attention of truth and beauty: Look at the stars! Look, look up at the skies! O look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air! 9 The homeostatic principle ("to love . . .") in the life of St. Paul con-tained a deep love and a profound concentration as he journeyed through life. Because of this not only the man but his writings are so alive. Spirit of joyful mortification. Paradoxically, life embraces death, self-actualization of necessity involves self-denial. Without reflecting on this phenomenon, most of us would have to struggle to accept the comple-mentarity of the living-dying mystery. Yet if we glance for a moment into the lives of people who have evidenced life to the full, we come across the fact of much voluntary suffering and dying. Teresaof Avila, called by God to reform her religious community, freely accepted the ridicule and ha-rassment that went along with this leadership role; Thomas More, request-ed by his king to sign his name to a document which would mean that his life would be spared, freely accepted death rather than lose his integrity and be unfaithful to his God; Cardinal Newman, drawn to the Roman Catholic Church, followed his religious belief in the face of the pain of being alien-ated from friends and kin by such a decision. In each case there was tremendous suffering; in each case there was new, powerful life. The de-mands were not limited to a giving of one's time and energy, rare com-modities in themselves, but a giving on a much deeper levbl: the giving of oneself. A denial of self for the sake of life we identify as mortification. Is it possible to speak of joyful mortification? Two considerations come to mind. First, there is joy in the act of mortification because the focus rests not on the suffering, though it is the immediate fact, but centers on the life that comes through the self-denial. Had Teresa of Avila dwelt on the sneers and raised eyebrows of some members of her order, her call to reformation could well have been delayed for some time; had Thomas More dwelt on the pain of execution, his commitment to the truth might have been threatened; if Cardinal Newman had centered on the anguish and affliction resulting from separating himself from so many dear friends, his conversion would have become increasingly difficult. The secret of their ability to deny them~ selves and accept the price of asceticism wasa vision of the good that would be achieved. "Joy is the knowledge that we possess something that is good" (Abbot Marmion). And though the good may well be miles down the road and a matter of long-range consequences, those who see are.enabled to joyfully deny themselves. 9Gerard Manley Hopkins, "'The Starlight Night." Spiritual Staying Power." Homeostasis / 669 A second, more powerful and more personal reason for joy lies in the fact that the Christian practices mortification in union with the. Lord. Just as Jesus suffered freely in reconciling the world to the Father, so too the Christian must pick up his cross voluntarily if he truly desires to share in the risen life. Failure to suffer in union with Christ runs the risk of self-righteousness, false pride and inevitable sadness. The grace needed is the generosity to do all things in Christ. Our fasting, our giving of time, our withhOlding that "brilliant insight''~° so that others might be free to speak, are all forms of denying self but in conjunction with the Lord. Joy results in sharing life together--whether that embraces health or illness, success or failure, peace or conflict--the important thing being the mutuality and not the positive or negative experience. Mortification takes on ful[ reality as one means of participation in the life of Christ. This fellowship, this partic-ipation, is the source of our joy. St. PauFs aliveness is characterized by both joy and mortification. His letters to the early ~Christian churches, permeated with so much suffering yet with an ex~ravaga~at generosity, provide us with sufficient evidence that Paul might well be a paradigm for all aspiring ascetics: For 1 am certain of this: neither death nor life, no angel, no price, nothing that exists, nothing still to come, not any power, or height or depth, nor any created thing, can ever come between us and the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord?~ We are only the earthenware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelming power comes from God and not from us. We are in difficulties on all sides, but never cornered; we see no answer to our problem, but never despair; we ~ have been persecuted, but never deserted; knocked down, but never killed; always, wherever we may be, 'we carry with us in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus, too, may always be seen in our body. Indeed, while we are still alive, we are consigned toour death every day,.for the sake of Jesus, so that in our mortal flesh the life of Jesus, too, may be openly shown. So death is at work in us, but life in you?z Paul's homeostatic principle dealt directly witch the external pressures that could have possibly destroyed his internal equilibrium. Graced with the Spirit of joyful mortification, those pressures and possible destructive forces were turned into growth experiences. Spirit of courageous service. Living involves doing. Through the in-carnational activity of enfleshing one's mission in word and deed, St. Paul strove to realize his calling as the apostle to the Gentiles and to bring about the reconciliation which was the work of Christ. Paul's metabolism was seldom low. ,~fter rechanneling his energies beginning with the Damascus experience., he responded to God;s call in building up the kingdom of God. His activism flowed from interior prayer and self-denial. Paul's life was balanced and full. ~o,,. and when he saw that the splendor of one of his pictures in the Exhibition dimmed his rival's that hung next to it, secretly took a brush and blackened his own." Essay by R. W. Emerson entitled "Character." ~Romans 8:38-39. ~z2 Corinthians 4:7-12. 670 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 One central dimension of Paul's apostolic work was bearing witness to the good news of Jesus Christ, God's love made visible to the world, A typical example is recorded in the Acts when Barnabas and Paul arrive at Antioch. How many times this type of sharing must have happened: On their arrival they assembled the church and gave an account'of all that God had done with them, and how he had opened the door of faith to the pagans.~3 In this particular instance the message and faith sharing was received with openness and joy, and they remained in Antioch for some time. More often, in attempting to fulfill the task of being an instrument of God's saving power among men, Paul was rejected and sometimes 6eaten (Ac 14:19; 2 Co l l:24ff). Speaking the truth involved paying a pric~. But since the truth - leads to freedom, the goal of the spiritual life, Paul had to speak it to remain true to his calling. He did not take the adx;ice of the old Turkish proverb: "He that would speak the truth must have one foot in the stirrup.''14 Missioned, being sent, seldom is limited to verbal sharing. Such was the case with St. Paul. He was commissioned to heal by living out the message he preached. Paul was a battle scarred disciple: Paul's concern for the poor, his gathering of money, evidence a social consciousness; his commitment to and vision of God's universal salvific will elicited extravagant energies to actualize this goal; his unwillingness to impose himself on others, thus being a burden to them, meant the retention of his tent mak!ng profession. Sensitive to'a variety of human and spiritual needs, skilled with the competencies and graced with love, Paul reached out to his fellow pilgrims helping them to grow as humari beings and preparing them to experience the good news of God's mercy and love. "To live" embraces loving attention, joyful mortification and coura-geous service. Paul is a fine model in that he followed Christ so well. Every Christian is challenged to get caught up into this way of living. The fi~st integrating ribbon on the tail of.our March kite provides solid material for homeostasis. It balances, stabilizes, as well as anchors the Christian in some depth realities. "To live" is to be one with the Spirit of Jesus and the Father; it involves a sharing in the Spirit ofcontemplatik, e prayer, voluntary asceticism and social concern. Through Love: Union with the Risen Lord The central experience of human life is being loved. So important is this experience that without it there is no hope of happiness and~minimal ex-pectation for sanity. The good news contained in the life of Jesus testifies once and for all that everyone is loved, "that our own existence in fact testifies to nothing less than our being loved by the Creator.''~5 Objectively 13Acts 14:27. ~'~See John W. Gardner and Francesa Gardner Reese, Know or Listen to Those Who Know (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1975), p. 233. ~SJosef Pieper, About Love, translated by Richard and Clara Winston (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1972), p. 31. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 671 this is the~ase; Subjectively, whether ornot we come to taste the truth of God's love, this is the most significant question of our lives. St. Paul experienced God's love: what was objectively true from the first moment of his existence became subjectively a reality when he surrendered to the call of grace. Love experienced meant a rebirth which radically changed his entire existence. Throughout the rest of his life's journey and beyond, he lived "through love" in God's presence. Though Paul knew that God's love for him was triune, it was in and through Jesus that the Father's fidelity and the Spirit's indwelling were revealed. Thus, we can focus on the quality and texture of Christ's personal love for Paul as we examine the second element in the suggested Paulirie h6meostatic principle. In doing this we realize that Paul knew that c~on-version was primarily an interior reality touching the mind and hdart. His being thus transformed interiorly showed itself in the external conversion of life-style. It is the transforming presence of Christ in our hearts and the knowledge of this love in our understanding that brings about spiritual renewal: Out of his infinite glory, may he give you the power through his Spirit for your hidden self to grow strong, so that Christ may live in your hearts through faith, and then, planted in love and built on love, you will with all the saints have strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth; until, knowing the love of Christ, which is beyond all knowle~dge, you are filled with the utter fulness qf God.~ ' To live through love means to live in Christ Jesus; to allow his wisdom to shape our attitudes, to surrender'to his affectivity which transforms our hearts, and to .be enabled through his power to share with others the gifts that we have received. Jesus' Wisdom To live in union with the loving Lord necessarily means to be embraced by his wisdom and to share in that gift. In the book of Wisdom we are told that the gift of wisdom has these traits: 1) wisdom is the consort of God's throne; 2) to lack the wisdom is to count for nothing; 3) wisdom knows God's works; she was present when the world was made; 4) wisdom under-stands what is pleasing in God's eyes; she teaches this; 5) wisdom knows and' understands everything,lr Insight and deep knowledge can be cold and sterile. Such is not the case of the wisdom of Christ in whi~zh Paul shared. Rather it was a loving knowledge leading the intellect to true and full understanding. Throughout the ages various writers have noted the' relationship between love and the cognitive dimension of human knowing: Thus love is the parent of faith.l~ ~SEphesians 3:16-19. ~TWisdom 9:1-6, 9-11. iSJohn Henry Newman, "Holy Scriptures" in Essays and Sketches (New York: Longman, Green & Co., 1948), p. 328. 672 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 We could almost say he sees because he loves, and therefore loves although he sees?9 What ha~ to be healed in us is our true nature, made in the likeness of God. What we have to learn is love. The healing and the learning are the same thing, for at the very core of our essence we are constituted in God's likeness by our freedom, and the exercise of that freedom is nothing else but the exercise of disinterested love--the love of God for his own sake. because he is God. The beginning of love is truth, and before he Will give us his love, God must cleanse our souls of the lies that are in them.2° To live through love means that the truth given us enables us to see and to believe. Jesus' love provides us with a vision of reality thereby scattering darkness and ignorance. Wisdom is to know the Father, a Father of loving fidelity and infinite mercy; our wisdom is to live from this central insight. "Through love" contains both a passive and active dimension: we are first loved in truth (passive) and then are missioned to reach out in deep concern (active). In the spiritual classic The Cloud of Unknowing, the importance of living and acting within God's love is stressed: The work of love not only heals the roots of sin, but nurtures practical goodness. When it is authentic you will be sensitive to every ne6d and respond with a generosity unspoiled by selfish intent. Anything you attempt to do without this love will certainly b~ imperfect, for it is sure to be marred by ulterior motives,z~ St. Paul told the Philippians to have the same attitude that Christ had. This exhortation was grounded in lived experience, for Paul had himself put on the mind and attitudes of Christ. Paul's vision, his judgments and con-ception of life resembled those of Jesus who focused on the Father. In the letter to the Ephesians, Paul gives evidence of how gifted he was with God's loving wisdom when, in his letter, he describes the divine plan of salvation (Ep 1:3-14). Two verses of that magnificent passage provide sufficient wit-ness to that wisdom: He has let us know the mystery of his purpose, the hidden plan he so kindly made in Christ from the beginning to act upon when the times had run their course to the end; that he would bring everything together under Christ, as head, everything in the heavens and everything on earth.22 Jesus' Affectivity To live through love for Paul was to experience transformation of one's heart. Paul was a man deeply in love; how else explain his commitment and unmatched zeal. The love of the risen Lord touched the very center of Paul's being in an intimate and personal way, resulting in a response of deep affectivity; his heart was on fire with the concern that Jesus showed him. Several centuries after Paul, another Christian underwent a spiritual heart ~9C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (New York: The Seabury Press, 1961), p. 57. Z°Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1948), p. 451. ~The Cloud of Unknowing, edited by William Johnston (New York: Doubleday, Inc., 1973), ZZEphesians 1:9-10. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 673 transplant after much struggle. This was St. Augustine. He emerged from "surgery" with the strong convi6tion that true life must flow from the heart: Follow the Lord, if you will,be perfect, a comrade of those among whom he speaks wisdom, who knows what to distribute to the day and to the night, so that you also may know it and so that for you lights may be in the firmament of heaven. But this will not be done unless your heart is in it.~ If wisdom touches out.minds with truth, God's gracious love seeks to touch our hearts. Why is it that so many defense mechanisms come into play at this level? Perhaps the fear of intimacy makes us cautious; what will be-demanded if I allow the Lord entrance into my life? Paradoxically we seek and' need intimacy yet flee when it is offered. The conditions of intimacy--commitment, self donation, giving up self-sufficiency--give us cause to hesitate. The tragic possibility of "having no heart" or allowing our hearts to become hard and calloused are dreadful alternatives to intP macy. Literature often speaks to this point: But 1 feel nothing, she whispered to herself. I have no heart.~4 Pity me that the heart is slow to learn What the swift mind beholds'at every turn,~5 ¯ His sorrows will not be slight. His heart is proud and hard.2~ Jesus came to save the'whole person, and ali people. His love for us was integral and he sought a total response. Using the book of Deuteronomy, Jesus. teaches: "and you must love the Lord your God. with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength" (Dt 6:4-5). Realizing in faith that God first loved us, now weare to respond in love to a God who desires our hearts. Having' been gifted with love, we return that gift. by loving the Father as Jesus did and by serving in the building up of the kingdom. Jesus' Power As God's gracious love transforms the interior of the Christian life, creating a new heart and shaping a new mind, there are external mani-festations indicating a new, powerful wayof life. The power of Jesus was evidenced in his love, joy, peace, in his constant patience, goodness, kind-ness, in his trustful'ness, gentleness and self-control (Ga 5:22). Through these signs of the Spirit, the Father's love and mission were incarnated. Following the Master, Paul challenged the Galatians as well as hin~self~to live out these values. For the sake of clarification, Paul's letter to the people of Galatia also provided concrete instances of what happens when internal renewal of heart and mind has not taken place. The "old self" of indulgence and weakness surfaces when these results are present: ZSThe Confessio;~s of St. Augustine, translated by John K~ Ryan, Book XII1, Chapter 19 (New °York: Image Book, 1960), p. 350. 24Thornton Wilder, The Bridge ofSatt Luis Re3' (New York: Washington Square Press, Inc,, 1955), p. 112. ~Edna St. Vincent Millay's "'Pity Me Not Because the Light of Day." Z~Herman Hesse, Siddhartha. 674 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 fornication, gross indecency and sexual irresponsibility; idolatry and sorcery; feuds and wrangling, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels; disagreements, factions, envy; drunkenness, orgies and similar things. 1 warn you now, as I warned you before: those who behave like this will not inherit the kingdom of God'.27 In using the power given him by the Father~; Jesus brought about change and renewal in the lives of many. In calling Zaccheus down from the tree an entire household was converted; in washing the feet of the disciples they came to realize that to follow the Lord was,.t0 serve; in calling Mary by name in the garden, depression and fear gave way to hope and joy. The very presence of Jesus was power, transforming darkness~into light, doubt into faith, apathy into love. His gaze, the tone of voice, the transparency of the Father's love were creative for anyone with the eyes. of faith. When that faith, was not there, Jesus experienced the pain of powerlessness and he bore that cross with much pain: Wherever growth took place, Jesus, in humility, realized that it was rooted in the Father's abiding presence and an expression of the Father's love. Paul lived through love which Christ had for him; this love power m~ade the apostle to the Gentiles into a new man. Then, having experienced the burning power of God's call in Jesus, Paul was enabled in love to exert power in bringing others to the Father. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul describes the source, purpose and strength of the Christian way of life: It is all God's work. It was God who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the work of handing on this reconciliation. In other words, God in Christ recon-ciling the world to himself, not holding men's faults against them, and he has'entrusted to us the news that they are reconciled. So we are ambassadors, for Christ; it is as though God were appealing through us, and the appeal that we make in Christ's name is: be reconciled to God.28 To accomplish the work of the Father, power was necessary. Paul was well aware that the gifts and energies given him were not for personal gain but for others. What mattered was that all people might be in union with God, that reconciliation become a fact. The vision of faith was translated into life through the strength and ~courage given by the Father. Paul became an ambassador; a messenger entrusted with precious news. Through the power of proclamation and the courage of deeds, Paul shared the message of God's loving forgiveness with the people of his day, and with. us who are privile'ged to read his letters in faith. To live through love, then, meant for Paul a dwelling in the love of Christ Jesus. Through grace he would take on the mind and heart of the Lord as well as the power of his hands. Living through love implied an imperative: through his personal love for his fellowmen, Paul must continue the process of conversion in the lives of those whom he was called to serve. The gift given, God's love and forgiveness must be passed on. 27Galatians 5:19-21. 282 Corinthians 5:18-20. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasisr / 675 In His Presence: Union With the Father Several years ago~ I was speaking with a friend about the well-being of a former classmate. His response was simple and profound: "He's all right, he lives in His presence." This type of centering provides peace and be-comes the source of a "holy" life. Monica, the mother of Augustine, lived in the land of faith. Her son writes: o ¯ . . and she h'ad you (God)oas her inward teacher in the school of her heart . Whosoever among them khew her greatly praised.you, and honored you and loved you in her, because they recognized your presence in her heart, for the fruit of her holy ¯ life bore witness to this3~ C. S. Lewis, after the death of his wife, recorded an experience of presence that analogously applies to the God-man relationship: ¯ . . she seems to meet me everywhere. Meet is far too strong a word. l don't mean anything remotely like an apparition or a voice. I don't mean even any strikingly emotional experience at any particular moment. Rather, a sort of unobtrusive but massive sense that she is, just as much as ever, a fact to be taken into account,a° Faith draws us to the basic fact that the Father is always with us in a variety of ways.~The:problem is not so much cognitive as it'is experiential; through a lack of pro~er disposition we live outside of God's presence (this is sin at the deepest I~vel). God is still with us but w~ live as though this were not the case. ,, In his excellent treatise The Problem of~God, John Courtney Murray emphasizes t.he importance of presence: Over against the inconstancy and infidelity of the people; who continually absent themselves from God, the Name Yahweh affirms the constancy of God, his un-changeable fidelity to his promise of presence?~ He (God) is present as the Power. Presence involves transparency; one sees through the veil.of otherness into the other and knows his quality, intentions, attitudes. Thus, through h~s mighty works, God becomes transparent to hts people. He ts known to be present m ffi~thful goodness. : . . In all h~s works of judgment as of rescue, Yahweh becomes transparent, known to his people, who name him'from their experience of his works,a2 St. Paul cam~ to experience the pror~ise of God's dwelling with his people throug.h grace. Then, empowered;l~y the Spirit and 'h~aled through the power of JeSus, Paul could write to the Romans that "everyone moved b-Y the Slbirit is a son of GoiJ'~ find that it is~this Spirit that "makes us cry 6ut, ~abba, Father! . (Rm ~: 14-!$). Assuming the identity bf h so~, Paul j.ourneyed to the Father. ' ¯ zaConfessions, Book IX, Chapter 9, p. 220¯ abA Grief Observed, p. 22. aUohn Courtney Mut~'ay, The Proble'm of God (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1964), p. 11~ 321bid., pp. 14-15. 676 / Review for; Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Father's Covenant The covenant theme is central throughout all of scripture. God's word reveals the mystery of his desire to dwell with his people in a close intimate relationship. God committed himself to beour Father~ and callS us to be his people. Thus in forming a nation through. Abraham; in giving the law and the prophets, in sending Jesus to reconcile, in forming a Spirit-filled Church, the Father continues to dwell in history, the God oftimg and space. St. Paul experienced the covenant relationship with the Father; he dwelt in the Father's tent, listening to the Father's voice and venturing f?rth to share that word with others. Refusal of God's covenant is sin. Acceptance of it is grace and life. Our home is to be with God. The psalmist knew the joy of dwelling with Yah-weh: A single day in your courts is worth more than a thousand elsewhere; ~, merely to stand on the steps of God's house is better than living with the wicked,a3 Paul had spent years living out the covenant relationship: With the encounter and surrender to Christ, he gained access to the Father'.s dwell-ing. Having tasted darkness, he now knew the warmth and light of grace. To live in his presence meant life itself; anything else was death: But because of Christ, I have come to con~ider all these advantages (of the Law) as disadvantages. Not only that, but I believe that nothing can happen that will outweigh the supreme advantage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For him I have accepted the loss of everything, and I look on everything as so much rubbish if only I can have Cl~dst and be given ~ place in him.a4 Father's Kingdom and Will ,~ To live in the Father's presence means necessarily to get caught up into the kingdom and the will of God. "God's kingdom is no fixed, existing order, but a living, nearing thing. Long remote, it now advances, little by little, and has come so close as to demand acceptance. Kingdom of God means a state in which God is king and consequently rules."35 Indeed, for St. Paul the very presence of the Father within his life was synonymous with the surrender of his freedom. Decisions now w~re made in faith and out of love; freedom given meant freedom gained. By relating all to the furthering of the kingdom, a deep singleness of the heart (purity) governed and unified the apostle's life. All was new. The kingdom is achieved by doing the Father's will. Jesus' obedience unto death was the paradigm. Paul's highly developed sense of discernment allowed him to hear the voice of the Lord and the grace of the moment meant a response in faith. This listening and responding pattern charac- 3aPsalm 84:10. a4Philippians 3:7-9. a~Romano Guardini, The Lord (Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1954), p. 37. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 677 terized Paul's life; it meant that the Father's will was being accomplished. Paul's prayer for the Colossians indicates the centrality of God's will: ¯. we have never0failed to pray for you~ and'what we ask God is that through perfect wisdom and spiritual:understanding you should reach the'fullest knowledge of his will. So you~ will be able,~to lead the kind of life which the Lord expects of you, a life acceptable to him in all its aspects; showing the results in all good actions you do and increasing your knowledg~e of God.a6 Knowledge of the Father's will is no intellectual abstraction; it demands commitment and actions which are pleasing to God. This holy pragmatism stresses the dynamism of Paul's ministry and his challenge to those who follow tile Lord. To,~iive in his presence, with the implicit willingness to promote the kirigdom by doing the Father's will, means that selfishness and non-scrip-tural behavior are elements in opposition to the life of Christ. Yet these elements never t6t~lly disappear from life. There is that constant struggle to allow the Lord to truly be I~ord ofourqives; there are the perennial temff-tat~ ons that lead toward' idolatry and~ wedge things and people between ourselves and the Father. Paul's life had; to face the'se struggles; his life was one 'of continual conversion. His candid confession in his letter to the Rom~ins"(7:14-15) magnificently expresSes the inward division of every person. Only through the grace of Christ does healing take place and only through that grace can we center bn the Father's kingdom and will. Without it we flounder on stormy waters. Father's Honor and Glory 'Life invol~'es two essential questions: what we do and why we do what v~E ~o. This latter question deals with the motivation. Our intentions not only reve~al our philosophy of life bu~ ultimately give us our sense of iden-tity.~ The Christian challenge 'is to Center our lives on God, to serve and love for his honor and 'glory. Self-serving and self-preserving tendencies block purity of'intention. Constantly we a~e invited to ever deeper levels of convei~sion as we strive to focus our attention on the mystery of God. Often Paul directly called the people he served to recognize to whom all honor and glory belonged: Glory'be to him whose power, working in us', can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine3 glory be to him from generation to genera~tion in the Church and in Christ Jesus forever and ever. Amen.3r Glory to him who is able to give you the strength to live according to the Good News I preach, and in which I proclaim Jesus Christ. the revelation of a mystery kept secret for endless ages, but now so clear that it must be broadcast to pagans everywhere to bring them to the obedience of faith. , . . He alone is wisdom; give glory therefore to him through Jesus.Christ forever and ever. Amen.36 a~Colossians 1:9-10: aTEphesians 3:20-21. 38Romans 16:25-27. Review for ReligiouS, Volume 37, 1978/5 In return, my God will fulfill .all your needs, in Christ Jesus, as lavishly as only.God can. Glory to God, our Father, forever and ever. Amen.as Honor and glory are due to God because of his majesty. The believer breaks forth in praise when God reveals himself. It is, impossible to remain silent when Truth and Goodness and Beauty inundate the human spirit. Faith allows us to encounter the living and true God; Our response is that of praise. Using Thomistic theology, Gabriel Braso describes well the meaning of honor and glory: , Glory is clear knowledge together with praise of the excellence of a'nother: clara ' notitia cure laude. Honor is the ackno~vledgment of this same e~cellence. Honor and glory, then, are acts by which our intellect recognizes an excellence existing in another being and finds it worthy of praise. Our will, on its part, accepts this superi-ority as a good to which it is well to tend, and, rejoicing in that good which another. prssesses, proclaims it and bears witness to it before others.4° The atmosphere in which Paul lived, namely,0the loving presen~ze of the Father, provides the springboard for his work, personal relationships and prayer. Not only did the apostle~ attempt to do. what was good for the well.being of others, he also lived from a very specifi~ level of.inten-tionality; he lived for God's honor and glory. Certainly the quality of this motivation varied at times, but the ideal was ever before Paul and he strove for it with tremendous zeal and dedication. Because .of this, he could write to others that they should follow his example. Conclusion The spiritual life is our participation in the paschal mystery. By means of principles and guidelines we h~ive some directions providing a perspec-tive from which to live this life in Christ. A homeostatic principle,is .~n internal reality giving continuity and stability to the faith life, especial!y when experiences of fragmentation tend to upset that life or when doubts attack :the human heart stripping it of meaning and feel,i, ng. Each person is challenged to discover and cultivate a personal homeostatic principle; it may remain constant throughout life or be modified in various ways. Be-sides St. Paul, other believers have articulated well what possibly might be their grounding point in the Lord: Yesterday 1 had a good morning. Once again when I recollect myself, I again find the same simple demands of God: gentleness, humility, charity, interior simplicity; noth-ing else is asked of me. And suddenly I saw clearly why these virtues are,demanded, because through them the soul becomes habitable for God and for one's neighbor in an intimate and permanent way. They make a pleasant cell of it. Hardness and pride repel, complexity disquiets. But humility and gentleness welcome, and simplicity reassures. These "'passive" virtues have an eminently social character.41 3aPhilippians 4t29-30~ 4°Gabriel M. Braso, O.S.B., Liturgy and Spirituality, translated by Leonard J. Doyle (Col-legeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 1960), p. 59. o ~ 4IRaissh's Journal, presented by Jacques Maritain (Albany, NY: Magi Books, Inc.,1963), p. 71. Spiritual Staying Power: H~meostasis / 679 . my sole desire is that His name be praised, and that we should make every effort to serve a Lord who gives us such a reward here below . 4~ Lord, who has form'd me out of mud, And has redeem'd me through thy blood, And sanctifi'd me to do good; Purge all my sins done heretofore: For I confess my heavy score, And I will strive to sin no more. Enrich my heart, mouth, hands in me, With faith, with hope, with charity; That I may run, rise, rest with thee.4a Human life is lived at various levels. At times the surface of our lives can be filled with turmoil and anxieties while there is peace deep within. At other times, extei'nal forces are calm but our hearts are agitated and rest-less. This essay suggests that St. Paul was able to deal with the pressures, anxieties and trials of life because his life was grounded in God's life. Paul's desire, was "'to live through love in His presence." This homeostatic prin-ciple provided' stability and continuity as he sought to "run, rise, rest" with God. 4~The Complete Works of St. Teresa of Jesus, translated by E. Allison Peers, II (London: Sheed and Ward, 1946), p. 268. 43George Herbert, "Trinity Sunday." All I Needed Was the Violet The overwheimin~ evidence of your magnitude, O God, i~sdisplayed in the sequ0yia forest,~ the snow,crowned towering mountains, the throbbing pulse of the swaying oceans, the~ measureless ga!axies of tinknown space, and also in the perfection and beauty of a tiny violet. To believe in you, an~l to bow down in worship, all I needed ' was the violet. Everywhere I find you, , Your bountiful, awe-inspiring, praise-producing, heart-stirring, mind-boggling, argument-ending remin~lers are just too overwhelming for me. Viola Jacobson Berg 5 Roosevelt Ave. Malverne, NY 11565 Mount Athos: The Holy Republic Michael Azkoul Father Azkoul, a priest of the Russian Orthodox Church, has taught Church History at St. Louis University, as well as in other institutions. Presently he is attached to Seminex (Luth-eran Seminary in Exile) of St. Louis. He is married, with two children. He resides at 912 Bellstone Rd.; St. Louis, MO 63119. Mount Athos or "The Holy Mountain" is situated in northern Greece, on the Chaicedonean peninsula. Since 1922 this colony of monks has been a republic, a legally constituted political entity, a cluster of monasteries-- stauropeion, as the Orthodox say--immediately subject to the jurisdiction of the Patriarch of Constantinople. The Holy Mount is dedicated to the Blessed Virgin who, it is said, led its first inhabitants, perhaps as early as the sixth century, to establish this religious sanctuary where no female is allowed--nor "female animals-or beardless boys." There have been as many as 40,000 monks on this tiny strip of land jutting into the Aegean, but now Athos can hardly boast of 400 Who have surrendered themselves to the "life of the angels." The Holy Mountain has been crucial to the life of the Orthodox Church. Its monks have produced great music, art, theology, and given t6 the Church some of her greatest bishops and saints.1 Moreover, the history of Orthodoxy shows that monks, especially those of the holy mount, have been "defenders of the faith." No more typical example can be found than their behavior during the Iconoclastic Period when the Empress Theodora found the support of monks indispensable in her effort to restore icons to the Church. Her victory is commemorated on the first Sunday of the "Great ~Monk-saints of Athos are usually called Hagiorite, that is, of the holy (hagios) mountain (oros). 680 Mount Athos: The Holy Republic / 68"1 Lent," as the Sunday of Orthodoxy. This Christian triumph over Hellenism was as monastic as it was,ecclesiastical. The historical value of monasticism to the Church notwithstanding, its importance to Orthodoxy as the supreme embodiment of her Weltan- Schauung is what concerns us here: Mt. Athos as the microcosm of the whole, of Orthodoxy and monasticism, this is the special object of our attention. In truth, one cannot understand the Eastern Church unless one grasps the meaning of her monasticism. In other words, monks are not a class above the Church, but the highest stratum within the Church. They are "'the true and authentic Christians," as St. Basil the Great called them. Monks and nuns are the dynamis of Orthodoxy, its spiritual heroes, the archetypes of its piety, models of chastity, the totally committed who most perfectly express the first principle of Orthodox spirituality, "voluntary obedience.'" They are those Christians who mysteriously perfect the Church and the entire human race by perfecting themselves. Recognizing that the Church is divine and human, even as Christ himself, we come to understand what it means that they are eager to sanctify time, to bring creation closer to the end for which the Christian economy was re-vealed- the deification of the cosmos. The Nature of Orthodox Spirituality The Orthodox Weltanschauung is ascetical. This means that monks are not an erratic or exotic element in the Church, but her chief representatives. Their lives are a statement of denial as well as of affirmation: monks affirm the Christian revelation as the introduction of new life into an age domi-nated by the devil. Satan is the "god of the age," its very zeitgeist. He is the one to whom mankind was yoked by Adam's sin, the ancestral sin which rendered his posterity the heirs of bodily corruption and death. "Where-fore, as by one man sin entered the world and death by sin," St. Paul teaches, "0n account of death all have sinned" (Rm 5:12). In other words, man is not so much a scoundrel as a victim. Human suffering is not the result of God's punishment or vengeance, but the consequence of the devil's power over us through death--the last enemy. Thus, God became a man to destroy the devil and death, not to satisfy some debt incurred by humanity through the sin of Adam.~ For the Orthodox, there is no "original sin," as Augustine and the West have so long believed, only an act of disobedience which inaugurated de-monic tyranny. Baptism, therefore, does not eradicate an "inherited guilt" transmitted by procreation. How, indeed, as Pelagius asked the Augus-tinians, is "original sin" passed to the children of baptized parents if bap- ZSee J. S. Romanides, "'Original Sin According to Saint Paul," St. Vladimir Seminary Quar-terly. IV, I-2 ( 1955-1956), pp. 5-28. Fr. Romanides blames Augustine of Hippo for altering the Church's traditional understanding of Adam's sin and its consequences: and, therefore, the Christian theology of baptism. Review for Relig, ious, Volume 37, 1978/5 tism washes it away? Nor does baptism involve the complete regeneration of human nature--which would necessarily destroy even the capacity to sin. Rather, baptism removes the individual from the tyranny of the devil and incorporates us into the life of "the Second Adam," that is, the Church, the body of Christ, the new humanity, "the race of Christians," as St. Justin Martyr referred to the People of God. Moreover, the mystery of baptism initiates the process of deification--"the new birth," the process of our spiritual perfection through grace (which in Orthodox theology means God's "uncreated energy" extended to creation). We belong to that level of being in which the acquisition of the Holy Spirit, the "Giver of Life," becomes our r?tison d'ktre. In Christ, he is the Deifier. In the Church, the process of deification (salvation) involves, to be sure, prayer, fasting, the Mysteries (sacraments), saving knowledge (the "knowl-edge" of spiritual things, gnosis) and the constant struggle with the pas-sions, the struggle to overcome our Adamic nature, our mortal nature, .to overcome death, wrestling with devil while ascending the "ladder of per-fection," to borrow a phrase from St. John of the, Ladder (Climacus). The passions darken reason and enervate the will: they destroy freedom. Freedom is an internal condition, "the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free., from the yoke of bondage" (Ga 5:1). Thus, it does not mean, in the first instance, political or economic rights. These cannot exist unless we have been unchained from the Evil One who, as we have implied, seeks our negation through the passions, the perverse powers of our fallen nature, our nature yoked to death, to dying. We recognize the passions as pride or self-love, jealousy, lust, hate, contentiousness, despair, etc. There are passions of the body and passions of the soul, as St. Gregory of Sinai reminds us. They dwell in us from birth :and are aroused and strengthened by our environment, that is, by the devil working through our psyche, or by persons and things. The devil combats grace by the passions. Despite the Holy Spirit, our guardian angel, the ¯ intercession of the saints, we can lose our souls if we do not perceive the guile of the devil and undertake to oppose him; indeed, without the struggle, the Christian will soon fall away from the Church and into the power of the devil once more. As we have said, the passions are the means by which the devil seeks to recapture.us. He can get us back by winning our "heart," the spiritual citadel of man, the "subconscious," as some Orthodox theologians call it. (Orthodoxy, following the Fathers, has never viewed the "heart" as "the seat of the emotions~ especially love.") All instruments of reason are im-potent to search the abyss of the heart, although, as St. Symeon the New Theologian observed, discursive reason is given the role of "sentinel." The heart is that by which we believe unto salvation, by which we see God if our heart is pure (Mt 5:8: Rm 10:9), but also that from which, according to the Lord, "proceeds evil reasoning, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, lying, blasphemy .'" (Mt 15:19). Mount Athos: The Holy Republic No wonder, then, the Fathers admonish us to "guard the heart," to protect it from anything or anyone who might injure it, from any situation which leads to separation from God's grace. We may "'guard the heart" through obedience, humility, chastity, prayer, the Mysteries and, in par-ticular, by controlling the faculty of the "imagination." This is that power of the mind whereby it creates images, which forms sense-data into co-herent patterns, which allows the mind to visualize and, consequently, to judge and act. As the Greek Fathers say, every passion is the result of a "'sinful image." Reason may alert us to the danger, but if we cherish the "'sinful inlage,'".ifwe nourish and remember it--as one might past insult or betrayalBthen it overwhelms reason, penetrates the systems of conscious-ness and plunges into the heart. The "'sinful image" reemerges as a "pas-sion," the irrational force which comes to determine our thought and con-duct. Only strenuous ascetic exercise can purge the heart thereafter. The great weapon of protection and purgation is "the name of Jesus." His name is a terror to the devils, said St. Barsanuphius. We may pray, 'bLord Jesus Christ, Thou Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner." The "desert fathers" recommend that this prayer be repeated slowly, quietly, sincerely. When said with.faith and understanding, it is not "vain repeti-tion." It becomes important to spiritual and mental health. Some Fathers have been known to have recited the "Jesus rPrayer'' all through the night--a prayer "without ceasing." Rightly practiced, it will eventually pass to and mysteriously, effortlessly, beat witti the organ of the heart. The "Jesus Prayer" becomes.the automatic "'Prayer of the Heart." Admittedly, those who have reached this perfection are very few. They are also those men and women who may preview already on earth the joys of heaven."~ Let us make one thing clear before we proceed. According to the Ortho-dox Church, "the religious experience" is never wholly "private" and never "anti-establishment." To be sure, the quality and intensity of that experience depends upon the holiness of the individual, but it is an ex-perience which transpires within the Church. We may call it "mystical," if we wish, but it is not the "'mystical experience" of a special person, a psychedelic, insulated, isolated, exotic, mayhaps erotic experience. In Orthodoxy, the "religious" or "'mystical experience" of any of her mem-bers- including the holy monk and nun--is the experience of the entire Church, relative, as we said, to the degree of sanctity. The Church is a soborny, a mystical, organic fellowship of believers, if for no other reason than that of the Holy Eucharist, "the mystical supper~" as St. John Chrysostom called it, enjoyed by all the faithful. " In connection with this matter, too, is the teaching of'the Eastern Church that truth is the product of mystical experience, that is, dogma is the product of holiness, not of ratiocination. But if truth follows from holiness, 3The Orthodox Church rejects the idea of the "'beatific vision" if by that is meant beholding the Essence of God, whether in this life or the next. The saved will see only the deified Christ "'face to face" (see Vladimir Lossky, The Vision of God: London, 1963). 684 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 then there is no surer vehicle of divine revelation than the monk, he who has committed his entire life to the fight with the devil and the struggle with the passions. As a matter of historical fact, the greatest teachers of the Church have been monks, whether clergy or not. It is correct to say, however, that the supreme witnesses to the Christian faith have been monks who were also bishops, since bishops have almost invariably drawn from the monastery. The bishop has sometimes been an abbott or "'elder" (staretz, geron) whose reputation for holiness and wisdom is unsurpassed. Historically, he was the confessor and counselor of kings and queens. Furthermore, the Orthodox Church has never failed to contain .great women ascetics, many of whom have been found in the convent. Through-out the centuries, they have been persons to whom Christians have turned for wisdom and consolation. Although women cannot teach in the Church nor become priests, they have been miracle-workers, iconographers, poets, models of virtue. St. Mary of Egypt dwelt in the desert for more thanforty years. By her miracles and preachment, St. Nina was ,the converter of Georgia in Russia. Numerous women saints have been given the honorific title "Equal to the Apostles," such as St. Helena, mother of the Emperor Constantine. The abbe

Issue 26.5 of the Review for Religious, 1967. ; A Contemplative. House by Btrnard Hi#ing, C.Ss.R. 771 Institutional Business Administration by John J. Flanagan, S.J., and James L O'Connor, S.J. 779 An Attitude towards Cgmmunity by Andre Auw, C.P. 797 The Vows and Christian Life by Gary F. Greif, S.J. ~ 805 Stability of Personnel Assignments by James F. Gray, S.M. 834 Religious Obedience ¯ by Jean-Marc Laporte, S.J. 844 Bishops and Religious Life by Theodore J. St. Hilaire, S,J. 860 The Priest-Religious by Jam~s Kelsey McConica, G.S.B. 869 Modes of Prayer by Joseph J. Sikora, S.J. 884 Eucharist, Indwelling, Mystical Body by Thomas Dubay, S.M. 910~ Meeting the Vocation Crisis by Shaun McCarty, M.S.Ss. T. 939 Seminarians on a College Campus by Edward F. Heenan, S.J. 946 Survey of Roman Documents 954 Views, News Previews 961 Questions and Answers 964 Book Reviews 968 BERNARD HARING, C.Ss.R, A Contemplative House Notes from a Discussion Held at Notre Dame On March 12, 1967, two priests, a laywoman, and several sisters met at Lewis Hall on the Notre Dame campus to discuss the feasibility of establishing one or more contemplative houses in the midst of our active communities. We wished to examine our reasons for desiring such a thing, the concrete shape such a desire might take, and the objections against it. What emerged from the discussion were three different types of con-templative houses. Some of the issues raised and points discussed are given below: 1. A contemplative house designed primarily to meet the needs of an active community was proposed. Now that we are beginning to appreciate 'better the indi-vidual vocations within a community, an opportunity should be provided for those who feel themselves called to a life of more radical prayer to fulfill this calling. Not only are there differences of vocation within a community but also differences or evolution within an individual vocation itself. The house would provide an opportunity for mature religious, having already had apostolic experience, who now feel themselves called to greater contemplation. We felt that it would be better to leave the amount of time spent in the contemplative house completely open. Some might want to spend a few months there, others a year or a few years, others might enter on a permanent basis. The house would provide for the entire community a place of retreat, meeting various needs. It could be a center of spir-ituality, a source of refreshment for the community as a whole. Such a community would need a core group, really called to contemplation, who would perhaps spend a certain amount of time with an already estab-lished contemplative group to learn the life from within. There are contemplative groups which can pro-vide this opportunity. 2. Another proposal concerned a contemplative house with the double aim of providing an opportunity of 4. 4. 4. Bernard H~iring, C.Ss.R., is teaching at Union Theo-logical Seminary; :Apartment 412; Mc- Gifford Hall; 99 Claremont Avenue; New York 10027. VOLUME 26, 1967 Bernard Hdring, C.Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS contemplative life to its members and of restoring con-templative values within the world, particularly in those areas most starved for those values. ~Vhat was intended here concerned slum neighborhoods, so profoundly de-humanized. The house would be completely accessible to the neighborhood and would provide, a place of quiet, prayerfulness, and beauty, combined with radical poverty. Many in the slum areas have never experienced these values. It was suggested that one of the main reasons why our young people are able to appreciate social action, Peace Corps, civil rights work, and so forth, but have no appreciation [or contemplation is that they have never really come into contact with contemplative values. This house would provide the opportunity for such an experience. The location would be flexible; a house might be rented, perhaps, so that the group could move with the needs. Not only physical poverty, but contemplative poverty ("receptivity") would be stressed--learning to see and hear, and to receive life as a gift. 3. Also discussed was a contemplative house with the double aim of providing an opportunity of contempla-tive life to its members and of bringing Christianity in its simplest, most essential form to newly Christianized cotmtries, for example, Africa. Such a setting provides a constant call to authenticity, being rooted in the places of greatest need. It would provide an opportunity for presenting Christianity in its evangelical simplicity, stripped of extraneous cultural accretions and "works." Religious who seek to realize their vocation in this way should have both a profoundly contemplative calli.ng and a missionary calling, since a great deal of adjust-ment would be required. Points raised with reference to one or all of these proposals: Why? --because this is an age of polarities, andjust as there is a thrust towards hyperactivism, there must be a corre-sponding thrt~st towards radical prayer, in order to re-store the balance --because of the possibility of an evolution in spir-ituality in the individnal; a person who has no incli-nation towards a contemplative vocation at one time in his life may be drawn to this later, and should find provision for fulfilling this call within his own community --for the witness, sorely needed, of a life of prayer as manifested by religious --to realize in our lives Christ's periodic withdrawal into the desert and the rhythm of the Apostles' lives, as seen in Acts (their labors in the field ~,ere punctuated by periodic returns to the community) --to provide for the unique experience of community which can be found most radically in a contemplative community --to deepen and vivify the active apostolate to which these religious will return, from which they withdraw, and in which they will continue to live --as a response to a demand the Holy Spirit seems to be making on us now --as an expression of the Christian life of simplicity and poverty --to become more consciously and intensely "aware"; to allow one's consciousness to expand, to listen con-templatively-- in ways which are not possible while we are "busy about many things" Where? --in a house which belongs to the community but is in some sense "away," as at a country home or in some such semi-secluded location --in a place of radical "authenticity" (see n. 3) --at the motherhouse (or "central" house), if novitiate and other satellite institutions are removed from this place --within a city slum (see n. 2) For Whom? --establish minimai age, then open it to anyone who feels the need or desire for this type of life --use norms of selectivity in order to prevent this from becoming a place of escape, a haven for neurotics, the malcontents, and so forth --exercise no authoritarian selectivity, recognizing the right of any individual, for any motive, to try, at least, such an experiment --for the artists, as well as the contemplatives, of a community, since their creativity requires a greater flexi-bility in spirituality and prayer How Long? --undetermined; perhaps for a summer, for a year, for a number of years --in some cases, perhaps with the nucleus or core group, this will become a permanent vocation How to Support the House? --by alms --by some form of agricultural work --by conducting retreats in connection with the house --by providing for some of the members of the com- + ÷ ÷ A Contemplative Hottse VOLUME 26, 1967 ÷ ÷ ÷ Bernard H;C~r~i$n.gR,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS~ munity to go out to work, professionally or otherwise; perhaps members could take turns --by giving lessons there, as might be the case were this the community in which the artists lived, as men-tioned above --by doing work in connection with that of ~he in-stitute, for example, to be a "communication center" Miscellaneous Points --safeguard at all costs flexibility, creativity, originality, in initiating such an experiment --yet learn from long established contemplative commu, nities what they can offer ---distinguish cloister versus contemplative community --consider the problem of integrating some form of the apostolate with this contemplative house so that there is a constant feedback, yet so that the need for solitude, prayer, and withdrawal are respected --such a house might be a cooperative endeavor among several communities or among the third and second orders of such communities as the Dominicans, Fran-ciscans, and so forth --groups should be small and highly experimental --part of renewal tends to admit that within our exist-ing congregations the person can no longer be fitted to the structure; the structure, therefore, must be broad-ened enough for all "talents" in the community Objections and Dil~culties --would this lead to an unhealthy division in the com-munity and to an attitude that would relegate the need for contemplative prayer to those participating in the house of prayer? --what can be done to restore the concept of leisure and the desire for contemplation to all rather than to the few who will be involved in this experiment? --would this cause a disorientation in one's own life or in the life of the community? --how can this be reconciled with the spirit of a com-munity whose essential work is the social apostolate? ---in the work of renewal, is the revitalizing of the witness of a life of prayer absolutely fundamental (and thus to be given priority), or must secondary matters first be reconsidered in order to achieve a level of maturity without which such a contemplative vocation could develop? --if such a house is needed, is this only symptomatic or indicative that we have to discover a better means of integration of prayer and the apostolate within our existing structures? --would not clearing away the "rubble" (obsolete ob- servances, and so forth) pave the way to a deeper Christian life without this? (The Notre Dame group would be interested in re-ceiving support and suggestions from anyone genuinely concerned with promoting this cause. Please address correspondence to Sister Marie, Via Di Villa Lauchli, 180; Rome, Italy; and/or Box 216; Lewis Hall; Notre Dame, Indiana.) A Contemplative House in the Midst, of Active Com-munities Almost every week I receive letters from religious who are intensely interested in the idea of a contempla-tive house in the midst of our active religious com-munities. Many religious and laymen support this idea with their prayers and their thoughts. The issue is on the agenda of many general chapters. It is, I feel, one of the greatest hopes for an authentic understanding of Church renewal. Some of the reasons why I feel this to be so are as follows: I. "My house shall be a house of prayer" (Lk 19:46). In our dynamic society where man organizes and manages almost everything, one aspect of humanity is greatly endangered: man in his dignity before God, man in his receptivity and humble dependence on God's graciousness. The feverish pace of technical development, the quasi-religious belief in economic progress and organization threaten man's capacity to listen to the word of God, to treasure it in his heart, and to ponder it. All man-kind needs such a study of the problem of prayer with a view to helping modern man relearn what it means to pray. To achieve this goal it is not sufficient that some people retire totally from the active life into cloisters, giving up their contact with the "world." The value of the cloister and of stable contemplative vo-cations must not be overlooked, but neither must this be considered as the only way of restoring contempla-tive life or of witnessing to the prime importance of prayer. 2. The era of the Second Vatican Council is an epoch of change. Many of the changes are overdue. In some areas of the Church, calculated and uncalculated re-sistance to the approach of Pope John and the Council, even from men and women in authority, provokes an increasing impatience and restlessness. Changes are sometimes made in a spirit of counterreaction against reactionary attitudes. All of this unrest and ferment must be countered by a more contemplative and tran-quil approach to renewal. Only if we have brothers and sisters among us who can treasure in their heart the ÷ A Contemplative House VOLUME 26, 1967 775 Be~ard HiCir.i$nsg.R,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS gospel and the salvific events in our tirn'e and ponder our needs before God in prayer, can we begin to find that peace which .bears fruit a hundredfold in wise activity and wise changes. 3. In our time the specialization and differentiation of society and of the Church have reached a new level o{ development, and legitimately so. Our. active re-ligious communities have developed a new style of ef-fective and well-planned activity, with excellent profes-sional training, and so forth. For the integrity of the person and the community we must now develop the agpect of integration. It is not,sufficient that besides the active congregations there exist also contemplative orders. There is not enough exchange and sharing be-tween these two different (and often all too different) modes of life, and communities tend to keep the two distinct. At least some of the contemplative commu-nities could and should be deepened in their spirituality and widehed in their horizons. They could then serve as schools of prayer for others who are engaged .for the greater, part of their life in apostolic or profes- Sional activity~ But for the present time it seems to me that, generally, the more expedient solution would b'e, not. a kind of .confederation between a contem-plative order or cloister and an active community-- although this might work out well in some cases---but rather the opening of a house of prayer as an 6ssentia'l and integrating part of the active community. 4.~Just as there is a need for integration in' every community---especially in the highly.efficient active com-munity- there is also need for integration in the life of the individual person. We have tides in our life during which we need another type of community and another style of life. This may be a need for more contemplation. On the one hand, in an active com-munity some may well develop an authentic permanent vocation for the contemplative life. There should be a place for such a vocation within the congregation. On the other hand, almost all of us would like a sabbatical year which wd could devote to spiritual renewal within a zealous, healthy contemplative com-munity. What Form Should Such a "House o[ Prayer" Take?. 1. Much consideration must be given to this ques-tion, and experiments should be made in somewhat different ways. After listening to many religious who are interested in this idea, I am sure that the Holy Spirit will move us in the right direction, though per-haps through humble experiments and some mistakes. Blot the greater mistake would be not to try to find a concrete solution. There must be exchange of thought and experience. 2. In my opinion a house of prayer also should be, if possible, a center for .the earnest study of theology --o[ that mystical and ascetical theology which is needed so badly by the whole Church. Contemplation and meditation must be solidly grounded on a deep knowl-edge of our Lord and of our brothers and sisters with whom we live. 3. There should be as far as possible a stable' nucleus of sisters (or fathers or brothers) with an authentic vocation for the contemplative life. Among them there should be at least one who is well trained in theology, and possibly another with thorough training in psychol-ogy. Methods of concentration and prayer should be studied, and these should include the best of the Yoga and the Zen traditions. Modern man is lost unless we discover how to reeducate him for a life of concen-tration, contemplation, and prayer. A group of people with an authentic and permanent vocation to the contemplative life would enrich all those who come on a temporary basis. A stable con-templative vocation, however, would not exclude the possibility that some who live this life might occasionally have a "sabbatical year" during which they might teach mystical theology or engage in religious forma-tion work. Just as a contemplative vocation can develop from an active one, so also a most fruitful active aposto-late can develop from a more contemplative vocation, and this would be especially appropriate in the area of interior renewal. 4. Active communities should grant to their members the right to apply for the house of prayer whenever the special need is felt. They should be encouraged to spend at least half a year or a year there once or twice in their life. Shorter periods should not be excluded, even a few weeks each year, on condition that the religious wills to join the serious contemplative life as fully as possible for that time. 5. Some of the members of such a house could be qualified to conduct, longer retreats on an individual basis, whenever there is a need for this. Sisters them-selves (and not only priests) should be so qualified for this work. 6. The financial care of the house.should be assumed by the active community to which it belongs. This should not, however, prevent the members of the con-templative house from doing some work for their liveli-hood. The spirit of poverty and simplicity should reign, but there should be no pressure from financial worries. 7. Such a house of prayer might be in a place of A Contemplative House VOLUME 26~ 1967 777 Bernard H~ring, C~s.R. seclusioh "or it might be in. the inner city. We must study the problem of how to create the atmosphere for contemplative fife in the modern environment, and this might require an establishment in the inner city. How-ever, this shofild not be the only type of experiment. Some experiments should also start in the most favora-ble external conditions for contemplation. I would not, however, suggest the traditional type of cloister with all its severe rules and grills: these new houses should be models for the formation of the mature Christian. 8. The house of prayer must at the same time be a real community, a school of fraternal love. Genuine contemplation goes hhnd in hand with growth in fra-ternal love. The chief objection qikely to be advanced against m), proposal is the following: We are already overworked without this house of prayer. Some would escape in this way from an overburdened life; but for the others, the burdens would just become worse. My tentative response is this: When the program for a better pro-fessional training of the sisters was inaugurated, many had the same objection. But since ,the leaders of this movement were convinced of the necessity for the pro-gram, they 'found ways to free the sisters. And today all realize that efficiency is much greater if all the sisters have received the best possible formation. Anal-ogously, we are confronted with a genuine need today: we lose much energy and quite a few vocations as a result of the tensions and frustrations which derive from our activism. The house of prayer as here con-ceived would be above all a source of divine energy and peace, but it would also be a source of peace and energy on the psychological level. If the need is genuine and if my proposed solution seems to have merit, men and women of faith will find the experiment a reasona-ble risk. It may well be that the presence of a house ¯ of prayer within the active communities would change our hectic style of life without diminishing our witness and our professional efficiency. Isn't.,it better to explore the possibility than simply to tolerate the evils it seeks to remedy? REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOHN J. FLANAGAN, S.J.,AND JAMES I. o'CONNOR, S.J. Institutional Business Administration and Religious Catholic institutions in education and in the health field have for many'years been embarrassed and handi-c; ipped because of a conflict between religious govern-ment and good acadenfic and good health administra-tion and because of a conflict of interest between wh~t is good for a religious house and what is proper for a facility which has assumed a public responsibility. This article is not intended to reconcile the two ob-jectives into an harmonious compromise; instead, it sug-gests that the two sets of objectives do not lend them-selves to a compromise into one common objective; rather, each set is a valid objective in its own right and should be allowed to function as separate and mutually exclusive endeavors. We contend that religious and, to some extent, ca-nonical provisions have attempted to force a marriage between two entirely divergent concepts. The results have been, in some instances, the weakening of religious government and the clouding of its primary objective. The results have also been frustration in academic and health administration bringing about a series of com-promises producing much mediocrity. Attempts have been made to expand the responsi-bilities of a religious house beyond its original purpose. Consequently,. the religious house has been burdened with responsibilities beyond its conceptual resources. Moreover, superiors have been tortured into a type of split personality which has given rise to a hybrid and curious end product. A religious house, in the eyes of the Church and in John J. Flana-gan, S.J., is execu-tive director of the Catholic Hospital Association; 1438 South Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Mis-souri 63104. James I. O'Connor, s.J., is professor o[ canon law at Bellarmine School of Theology; 230 South Lincoln Way; North Aurora, Illinois 60542. VOLUME 26, 1967 John J. Flanagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS its original canonical conception, was a home for re-ligious. Its definition, even today, is in terms of the minimum number of religious necessary to constitute it a canonical entity. The purpose of the religious house was to foster religious life and the personal growth of individuals in the pursuit of their religious lives. The term, religious house, means every house of any re-ligious institute whatever; a forrnal or formed house is every house in which dwell at least six professed religious, at least four of whom must be priests if it is a house of a clerical institute (c. 488, 5°). Ecclesiastical property is that which belongs to an ecclesiastical moral, that is, legal .person such as a com-munity, a province, or an institute (c. 1497, § 1). Canonical regulations are directed primarily to the welfare of religious as religious and to the preservation of the religious institute as such. Canons and rules governing ownership, control, disposition of property and the attendant permissions are in complete accord with the existence of a religious house and the life of religious in a convent or monastery or a religious house of studies. But they manifest no concern with nor un-derstanding of professional responsibility to the public in the area of health or for academic responsibility in education. There is nothing in canon law or religious constitutions which indicates an awareness of the prob-lems of operating a nniversity or college or an under-standing of the complexities of a modern hosptial. In the beginning, religious houses functioned in a purely religious environment. How did they'gradually change so much? An historical sketch will indicate the answer to this question. Schools In virtue of her divine commission, "Go, and make disciples of all nations" (Mr 28:19), the Christian Church is essentially a teaching organization. The Church was instituted by Christ to dispense the means of salvation, for example, the sacraments, and to teach the truths necessary for salvation. These truths are spiritual and moral. To impart this essential knowledge, catechu- + menal schools were instituted. Other truths, for example, those of science, history, and so forth, that is, those ÷ ÷ of a profane or secular character, are not intrinsic to the Church's teaching program or mission. However, the profane or secular branches of knowledge were gradually worked into the curriculum and "baptized" when circumstances showed that students could acquire knowledge of them only at the cost of grave danger to their faith or morals. 780 The first schools to introduce a non-religious subject into the plan of studies were the catechetical schools. Because of the conflict between pagan philosophy and Christian truth, a Christian philosophy was developed. As a result, catechetical schools were, for the most part, institutions of higher learning. An easy step was later taken from philosophical controversy to theological controversy. ¯ The safeguarding of faith and morals, especi.ally when it concerned children, was not, in the beginning, a task of the schools but of the parents whose obligation in this regard was particularly stressed. Schools simply provided additional help for parents to meet their re-sponsibility to teach their offspring. Thus parochial and other Church-related educational institutions had their start and have developed into our present-day systems. Even prior to the existence of the catechetical school, special schooling was provided for boys wishing to join the ranks of the clergy. Such schools were attached to the residence of the bishop where the students lived and learned. In view of the purpose of these episcopal schools, as they were called, all phases of their regimen were geared to the clerical life and not to secular life for themselves or others. Similarly, monasteries originally had schools simply to train candidates for the monastic life. Monasticism in itself was a protest against the corrupt and corrupting standards of pagan living. These norms of life had be-gun to influence not only the public but also the private and domestic life of Christians. To help main-tain the ideals of Christian life, the monasteries began to take in students who were not interested in becom-ing monks. To a more limited extent the episcopal schools also adopted this extension of their program, albeit their prihaary purp6se still remained the train-ing of boys for the clerical state. The type of life these students were subjected to is ~indicated by the fact that authorities of the clerical schools in Italy were com-manded by the Council of Vaison not to deny their students the right to marry if they wished to do so when they reached maturity.1 It is hardly likely that schools in other countries differed from those in Italy. Where monastic schools educated people for either the life of the cloister or [or life in the world, they distinguished the two departments into "internal" and "external" schools respectively. What monasteries did for boys, convents did for girls. As time passed, the Catholic schools adopted more and more of the curriculum of the public schools until the program of studies in both systems covered the 1 Concilium Vasense III (A.D. 529), canon 1; Mansi, Amplissirna collectio conciliorum, t. 8, c. 726. ÷ ÷ ÷ Business A dministc a tion + + + John ]. Flanagan, $.J., and James L O'Connor, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS same branches of knowledge except that the Catholic schools placed special emphasis on the two subjects of religion and religious morality. Furthermore, with the passage of time, the Catholic schools were not operated' primarily for pupils who were considering taking up the clerical or the religious life but, vice versa, for those whose walks, in life would be outside the ranks of the clergy and religious. Despite the developments in the course of studies and in the purpose of schooling,2 the Catholic schools never fully developed an administrative existence di-vorced from that which governed the residences of the religious who operated the schools. Hospitals Care of the sick was a work in which Christ mani-fested great interest as is especially shown in the nu-merous miracles He performed for the sick. His interest was also shown in His command to the Apostles to heal the sick (Lk 10:9) and in His promise to those who believed in Him that they would be able to heal the sick (Mk 16:18). The Apostles, following Christ's example and com-mand, went about curing and comforting the sick (see, for example, Acts 3:2-8; 5:15-6; 14:7-9). Care of the sick is also iiaculcated in the famous passage of the Epistle of St. James (5:14-5). Wealthy Christians in the first centuries made pro-vision for care of the sick who could not be pro~cided for at the bishop's residence. Epidemics were the chief occasions for bringing out this form of charity to the neighbor. Hospitals at times grew up in connection with cathedrals. Later, under Charlemagne, every ca-thedral and every monastery was ordered to have a hospital connected with it. The funds for the support of such hospitals did not come from the priests or religious but from government sources. Because of the confiscation of these funds or diversion of them to other purposes, the hospital suffered. To offset such misuse of hospital funds, the management of hospitals was, at times, turned over to religious for their business administration. The monasteries became the dominant factor in hos-pital work in the tenth century when they combined with an infirmary for their own members a hospital a For a fuller account, see The Catholic Encyclopedia, v. 13, under the heading, "Schools"; Conrad H. Boffa, Canonical Provisions for Catholic Schools [elementary and intermediate] (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University Press, 1939), pp. 3--55; and Alexander F. Soko-lich, Canonical provisions Ior Universities and Colleges (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University Press, 1956), pp. 3-63. for externs. Collegiate churches also set up hospitals and the canons attached to the church were ordered by local councils to contribute to the maintenance of the hospital. Even though religious and diocesan clergy set up hospitals, the institutions were supported either by mu-nicipal funds or by money, land, or other means pro-vided by private individuals, Quite often control of such hospitals passed from the hands of the religious or the diocesan clergy to the municipality because of the general viewpoint that municipal authority should step in since there was question of management of institutions on which the common welfare of the public largely depended. This viewpoint was that of people from the twelfth to the sixteenth centuries. Where control of the hospital remained in the hands of religious, the ruIes for its administration were those for the administration of the religious residence as set [orth in the community's constitutions. In the United States, religious women were eventually led into hospital work because government and civilians saw and appreciated the work they did, even as un-trained helpers, on the battle field. The first step was to bring the sisters into army hospitals during the Civil War; the second was to induce them to build hospitals of their own.s Religious House All of these educational and health expansions de-veloped under the one ecclesiastical title, religious house. Regardless of the size or complexity to which they attained, the same organizational pattern was continued, namely, that for administering a religious house. Thus we find in preCode, that is, pre-1918 canonical com-mentaries that religious house and ecclesiastical founda-tion were synonymous terms and comprised "the com-plex of temporal property which was destined in perpetuity or, at least, for a long time to a religious purpose, that is, to divine worship, or, to the spiritual or temporal advantage of the neighbor and which was either set up as a legal person by authority of the Church herself or handed over to an ecclesiastical in-stitute (a religious house) already in existence either by a donation inter vivos or by last will and testament on the condition or with the stipulation of rendering religious service." Such works were distinguished from l~hilanthropic functions which "cannot be counted among ecclesiastical ~ See also The Catholic Encyclopedia, v. 7, under the heading, "Hospitals." ÷ ÷ ÷ Business Administration VOLUME 26, 1967 + ÷ ÷ John ~. Flanagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS foundations because they, prescind totally ~rom reli-gious purpose and are erected for public utility a'nd other natural and temporal motives and not because of the sup.ernatural motive of religious service and Chris-tian charity." 4 When revising Father Wernz's work after the pro7 mulgation of the Code of Canon Law, Father, Vidal rewrote the above section as follows: In preCode law, religious house was a generic term which, in addition to monasteries, designated all pious places erected by authority of the bishops or like prelates, for example, churches, temples, chapels, guest houses for poor pilgrims, hospitals for, the sick, orphanages for the education bf orphans 0'r of foundling bo.ys or girls. Similarly included were confra-ternities, congregations, holy mounts and other places set aside for works of charity, mercy, religious service or other pious use. A house (or place) was called religious in contradistinction to a pious house (or place), that is, one set aside for a pious or re-ligious purpose by the private determination of the faithful without authorization Of ~cclesiastical authority.~ ' The differences brought out above between the un- ~erstan. ding of the term, religious' house, in preCodg and pos.tCode times are shown more easily and clearly, perhaps, in the following comment: In pr~sent-day law, the ancient understanding of religious house-is notably limited. In the Code religious house is a teCh, nical term and signifies' nothing more that a house of some religious institute. Other ecclesiastical, works or entities, fo~ example, hospitals, orphanages, which previously were also included under the term, religious house, are now designated in the Code by the generic term, ecclesiastical institutions. The same commentator then goes on to explain more exactly just what a religious house is: , In the Code and in law in general, a house is. occasionally used in a common or material sense as the place or building.of residence. In.a more technical sense, a house is understood in ¯ law as a moral or legal person, whether collegiate or non-collegiate. In the current law on religious life, a religious house in its formal and proper sense means a religious com-munity~ namely, a moral, collegiate person which forms the lowest division or society of those persons who, by common law, are members of religious institutes. Religious house, how-ever, does not sig~i[} a community in the abstract but in the concrete inasmuch as it has a site or residence in a plade.° ~ F. X. We.rnz, s.J., lus decretalium, 2nd ed. (Rome: PolygloF P[ess, 1908), t. 3, n. 195. Translation of this and other passages from various authors cited was made by Father O'Connor. ~ F. X. Wernz, S.J., and Petrus Vidal, S.J., lus canonicum (Rome: Gregorian University Press,'1933), t. 3, n. 43. nArcadio Larraona writing in Commentarium pro religiosis, w 3 (192,2), pp. 47-8. Father La~aona, a,Claretian, later became under-secretary and, eventually, secretary of the Sacred Congregation for Religious (1943-1959); he was created cardinal in 1959 and is pres-ently Prefect of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. See also Timotheus Schaefer, O.F.M.Cap., De religiosis, 4th ed. (Vatican City: Vatican Polyglot Press, 1947), nn. 163-4. Since, as Larraona points out, religious house pri-marily means a religious community, it is not necessary that the religious own their place of residence. As a result, Larraona later writes: "In order to be considered as a religious house, it makes no difference whether the community lives in rented buildings or on a single floor of some building." And he adds in a footnote: "None of these factors prevents it from being a really true religious house; as a result, it must be treated as such." z There is a special case in the Code, namely, in canon 514, § 1,s where religious house is used in a far brohder sense but in this instance there is no ques-tion of business administration; it concerns purely spir-itual care.~ While, technically, the term, religious house, was notably narrowed from its preCode interpretation, nevertheless, because of the definition given in canon 1497, § 1 to ecclesiastical property and because of the provision of canon 532, § l?° the work of religious institutes in education and health services has been developed, even in modern times, under the pattern of religious government. Consequently, many inconsist-ent and unwieldy situations have developed. Working under a system which was by its nature limited to the government of a religious house, re-ligious orders and congregations have undertaken the ownership and management of universities with schools of medicine, law, dentistry, engineering, liberal arts, teacher education, as well as schools of philosophy and theology. Religious congregations of women and men have carried the ahnost complete responsibility of the Cath-olic hospital system. Over ninety percent of the person-nel involved in carrying out these commitments are lay people who are in no way committed to the way of life of religious subjects. Notwithstanding this fact, their functioning, their growth and development, and their compensation are affected by the spirit and letter of a system primarily intended to govern the lives of re-ligious. The hospital situation finds an almost perfect paral- ~ Commentarium pro religiosis, v. 6 0925), p. 15, II, and footnote (408). ~ In every clerical institute the superiors have the right and duty to administer, either personally or by delegate, the Holy Viaticum and Extreme Unction, in case of sickness, to the professed members, to the novices, and to other persons dwelling day and night in the religious house by reason of service, education, hospitality, or health. ~ Commentarium pro religiosis, v. 9 (1928), p. 104. ~o The property of the institute, of the province, and of the house is to be administered conformably to the constitutions. ÷ + + Business Administration + 4, John I. Flanagan, S.l., and James I. O'Connor, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 786 lel on the. college and university levels of education and, in a far less degree, on the lower educational level~. The spirit of canon law and ~f the constitutions of religious congregations and orders' was conceived to foster a way of life which led to personal sanctification of religious as individuals and as a group. It was never intended to develop those people professionally or to control the growth and development of institutions which have a public responsibility in education and health, The financing of these endeavors has involved com-plex and basically secular activities which have been subjected to rules, policies, and restrictions formulated solely to govern finances of a religious house, that is, a residence or training center for religious as religious. Permissions, personal and corporate, appropriate within the religious institute,xt are completely incompatible with the intelligent, well-administered financing of, higher education and, for example, the management of a twenty million dollar ($20,000,000)health complex. These activities relate to the development of a service to the public and not to the welfare of a religious house. In mbst instances, the necessary financial support must be obtained from the public, in some cases from the government itself, whether.local, state, or f~deral, with an explicit or, at least, an implicit commitment to serve the public. Even when contributions come from private sources, such as well-to-do benefactors or business enterprises, the money is given not to the religious community as religious but to promote the public service the religious are engaged in, for example, education, health care. This view of contributions to religious institutions rendering a public service is brought out in the practical order by two actual cases which came to .the second author's attention in the last few months. One case involved a Catholic hospital, the other a Catholic col-lege. Each was operated by a different sisterhood. In the case of the hospital, the. sisters decided to close the hospital and sell all its property for what they could.get. Somehow word of the plan reached the capitol of the State in which the hospital was located. The sisters were notified that the only money they could take out of the sale price was what they could prove ~hey had contributed from the community to the hospital. Since all other moneys or their equivalent were giv,en ~ Even as regards financial administration o[ religious property in the narrow sense o[ the term, updating o[ canon law is needed. See Charles J. Ritty, "Changing Economy and the New Code of Canon Law," Jurist, v. 26 (1966), pp. 469-8't. to conduct the hospital as, a public: service, all money derived'from the sale after deducting money the re-ligidus community .could prove it contributed had to be turned over to the State. for disbursement to other health facilities for the public. In the case of the .college,. a like decision regarding closing and sale was arrived .at by the sisters. In this instance also, word of the plan reached the State capito,1. Similarly the sisters were notified that a!! they could take, from the sale. price was what they. could prove they had :contributed. Moreover, the only persons to whom' they could sell the institution were either an-other educational organization which would take over. the operation of the college or the State itself which would then take steps for the continued operation of the college. In both cases, through a 'belief that the sisters would never see the day when they would have to surrender the institution or through an oversight on the part of the civil lawyer consulted in setting up the charte~ of incorporation, there was no provision in either cha.rter~ for th6 dissolution of the corporation. If the articles of incorporation had provided that, in ,.the event of dissolution 'of the hospital or college corporation, the net assets, namely, after payment of bills and after de-ducting the proved contribution by the religious com-munity, were to be transferred to another health care or educational facility, .respectively, within the same sisterhood or, in the event that the religious institute had no other health care or educational facility, then to a like facility within the diocese and, if possible, in the same city or geographical area, there would, we are informed by civil lawyers, have been no problem with the respective State governments. While, very often, religious communities have con-tributed sums of money which are quite large in them-selves, such financial support is relatively small when the total financial picture is brought into focus. There are even instances where not one cent of the invest-ment in buildings and equipment has come from the religious community. And yet the institution is classi-fied as ecclesiastical property because it is incorporated in the name of the religious community. As religious institutions have become more and more involved in semipublic responsibilities, an increasing number of incompatible situations have been encoun-tered. One of the first noticeable situations was the manner of operating schools of nursing and boarding, schools. Having extended to them the aegis of the religious house and the authority of the religious superior, there + ÷ ÷ Business A dmin~tration VOLUME 26, 1967 787~ John J. Flanagan, S.]., and .lames L O'Connor, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS was. a natural tendency to impose upon the young stu-dents a manner of living suitable to young religious. Through a failure by both ~he religious themselves and by many of the laity to distinguish between money and property acquired and administered for public service and that which pertains to the religious com-munity as a religious community, a number of erroneous conclusions have been drawn by both groups. Here are some examples: The question of corporate poverty and its relation-ship to personal poverty is a matter of great concern to religious superiors, to Church officials, and to mem-bers of the laity. Today's arrangement with large institu-tional holdings and operating budgets is misunderstood by some members of the laity who see a concentration of too much ownership and financial consciousness in or-ganizations whose members publicly and officially profess personal poverty. The affluence of some institutions may affect the personal lives and practices of the members of the re-ligious congregation or order. On the other hand, in terms of professional academic needs of Catholic hos-pitals and educational institutions, the resources in facilities and finances are woefully inadequatK If re-ligious are to discharge their obligations to the public, the needs of Catholic institutions of learning and health care cannot be governed by policies primarily con-cerned with fostering the spirit of poverty in a re-ligious community. The mingling of funds of a pro~essional institution with the funds of the religious institute compounds the problem. In the past, the using of funds generated by the professional institution to construct chapels and colleges primarily for the benefit of the religious com-munity has intensified the issue as can be so well per-ceived in this post-Vatican II period. The legitimate concern of government and the general public to make money available to an institution for comprehensive civic service, when that institution has ambivalent objectives, is harming both the service to the civic community and the credible image of the given religious order or congregation. As the problems facing Catholic institutions today are studied, there is no need to think that Church-related and Church-influenced institutions should be surrendered to secular thinking or to management devoid of religious and moral in-fluence. In a pluralistic society, the Church-related in-stitution has much to offer and the American educational system and the health care system of the country would be seriously short-changed without them. There are various remedies for curing the indicated ills affecting Catholic educational and health care in-stitutions. None of the suggested remedies is a panacea. Ifi some instances the burden will not be removed but only made lighter. In other cases, the existing malady may be totally cured but the cure itself may generate side effects which, however, may be borne with, greater ease than the original ailment. Furthermore, in many instances authorization will be required from the Holy S~'e before the proposed mode of action can be legit-imately adopted. It should be obvious that the sug-gestions made here do not exhaust all possibilities for coping with tlie undesirable situations. As shown earlier in this article the term, religious house,~ has been narrowed very much in its meaning from that it had in preCode ~law, All that is necessary, then, as regards this term is to make sure it is under-stood in its postCode sense as pointed out above by Larraona. The term, ecclesiastical property (canon 1497, § 1), ought, it seems, to be redefined in the light of present-day s{tuations and worded somewhat as follows: Ecclesiastical property comprises 'only those temporal goods, both corpo~eal,whether movable or immovable, and incor-poreal which belong to the Church universal, or to the Apos-tolic See, 'or to any other ecclesiastical moral person in the Church and which directly and primarily service the ecclesias-tical moral person and do not primarily service the good of the general public. If this or similar wording were adopted by the com-mission f6r the revision of the Code of Canon Law, ecclesiastical property as concerns religious wouId be restricted to religious houses in the strict sense of the term, namely, residences of religious (including pro-vincialate and generalate residences), houses of forma-tion, community infirmaries, community cemeteries, community villas, community farms or lands, and shch like properties. Not .included would be all properties primarily .and directly serving the general public, for example, hospitals of any classification, orphanages, schools on all levels of education for the general public. The business administration of these latter institu-tions would be conducted according to the law and practice of the country, state, or civil province pertinent to like facilities whose officers and staff are all lay persons. Proposed also for consideration is the question whether the educational or health facility should be incorporated as a civil corporation totally distinct from the civil corporation composed of the religious house, province;, or,,institute: If the institution were incorpo-rated as an entity separate and distinct from. the re-÷ ÷ 4- Business Administration VOLUME :26, 1967 John I. Flanagan, S.l., and James L O'Connor, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ligious community, several great advantages would follow. 1. The institution would not be part of the religious community. As a result, it would not be ecclesiastical property. The further consequence would be that in its business management, it would not be governed by the canon law of business administr.ation. It would be managed completely and solely by the law and practice of the civil jurisdiction in which it is located and in-corporated. In the existing situation, there is the anomaly that an institution which derives its legal ex-istence from the State and, in the case of educational institutions, derives its power to issue diplomas, grant degrees, and so forth from the State and not from the Church, should, nevertheless, be classified as ecclesi-astical property because it is owned by a religious house. This proposed solution of a problem rendered ex-tremely difficult in practice by th~ canonical definition of ecclesiastical property is applicable only as regards the future legal erection of institutions. Since hereto-fore all institutions were .listed as owned by the re-ligious community, they thereby became ecclesiastical fixed or stable capital property. As such, they are sub-ject to all the canonical prescriptions and limitations for such property. Consequently, from a canonical view-point, in order to set up the institution as a separate corporation which is not part of the religious corpora-tion, the more obvious procedure is to request an indult of alienation from competent ecclesiastical authority since the religious corporation is divorcing itself com-pletely from the ownership--such as it was---of the property whictt is the institution's. In seeking such an indult, in addition to the other requirements, it is. of paramount importance that the reasons for the re-quest be carefully and strongly expressed. Many such reasons are presented in this section of this study. "A less obvious method of providing for the separate incorporation is to deduct from the next quinquennial report on the financial administration of the total in-stitute the value of all property which has been pre-viously reported as ecclesiastical property but which has in fact been providing a public service facility, for example, school, hospital. An explanation, of course, must be given for the deduction. It can be modeled on that given in the case of two hospitals where this latter procedure was followed. Additional reasons, such as those proposed here, can and perhaps should be used to strengthen the case. In both cases the sisters had reported the hospitals as ecclesiastical property in two previous quinquennial reports to Rome. After the second such report, the sisters found out that they had to administer the hos-pital property completely in accord with the civil law of the States in which the hospitals" were located. Such a method of administration, for example, authority of the individual members of the governing board, use funds, and so forth, seriously conflicted with the canon law for the temporal administration of a religious house. As a result, on the third quinquennial report, the sisters deducted from the previously reported ec-clesiastical property the amount of the two hospitals. In so doing, they advised the Sacred Congregation for Religious that they (the sisters) no longer considered the hospitals as ecclesiastical property but only as secular property since it was impossible to conduct the temporal administration of the institutions in accord with canon law. In the acknowledgment of the report by the Sacred Congregation for .Religious, no word of objection or criticism was made on the reported change of classification of the hospital properties nor was any indication given that the sisters needed an indult of alienation for the two cases. This approach to a heretofore very difficult case may be viewed by the Sacred Congregation for Religious as canonists have viewed a somewhat similar instance, namely, if religious are in any way compelled by the State to sell or otherwise alienate part or all of their capital property, such alienation is not subject to the canonical prescriptions concerning alienation. An ex-ample is had where the State obliges religious to sur-render part of their property to provide a right of way for constructi6n of a road.lg 2, In the event of separate incorporation of the in-stitution, question 90 (78) of the formula for the quinquennial report (Q. R.) by religious institutes would, of course, be applicable: In cases where works which are not the property of the house, such as clerical or religious residence halls, hospitals, churches, and so forth, are entrusted to the religious house, are these properties kept clearly distinct from those which be-long to the religious house itself? = Observance of this requirement would remove the problem arising from the commingling of institutional funds with those of the religious house as such. 3. An unhealthy identification of the institution with = See Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., R~wzw Fog RELIGIOUS, V. 19 (1960), p. 51, n. 3. =The open number refers to the formula for institutes of pon-tifical law; the number in parentheses refers to the same question in the diocesan law formula. See T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J., Canon Law Digest lor Religious, v. 1 (Mil-waukee: Bruce, 1964), pp. 227-73. 4. 4. 4. Business Administration VOLUME 26, 1967 791 ÷ John J. Flanagan~ $.J., and lames !. O'Connor~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the religious and o[ the religious with the institutio)a would be destroyed with great advantages for the re-ligious. To indicate some of them: (a) Institutional assets and debts would not be identi-fied as possegsed by the local religious community. As things are today, there is no distinction in financial reports to State or other agencies or to the general public between the assets and debts of the ins.titution as such and those of the religiouS' who operate it. Because of the identity of religious with the institu-tion, the financial statement, when issued, is unsler-stood as a statement of the finances or their equivalent possessed by the religious community. ~ (b) The above erroneous conclusion, occasioned, how-ever, by the prevailing practice and common c~anonical understanding, in turn, leads to confusion in the minds of outsiders, Catholics as well as non-Catholics, who cannot reconcile personal poverty with corporate wealth. If separate incorporation were effected, the financial report is that of the institution alone and independent of that of the religious community which administers it. In view of past history, it may well take some time for the realization of this divorce to sink into the minds of outsiders. In itself, it is no more difficult a concept than distinguishing the assets and liabilities, for example, of Harvard University from those of the members of the board of trustees and the faculty, of the university. The problem is had relative to C~ttholic institutions because of the mutual identity of institu-tion with religious community and of religious com-munity with the institution. That identity iso not had between Harvard University and its trustees and faculty. (c) Conversely, the religious themselves would be disabused of the notion that, though personally poor, their community is very well of[. More or less suddenly it would dawn on them that both they personally and their community as such are poor. (d) Allied to advantages (b) and (c) is that of ~iving credit where credit is due. This pertains to both the public and the religious community. By far most of the financial support of the facility comes from the public in one way or another. The public should be given credit for this support and the financial statement ought to reflect this fact. If, as is usually the case, the.religious community also con-tributes to the financial maintenance of the institution, this act by them ought also to appear on the financial report. Its appearance there will help. to bring out their personal and communal involvemer~t in the needs ~and interests of the public good in a very concrete manner. ~.Vhile it is true that this appreciation of the common-weal is manifested in their administration and working in the institution, this fact can be overlooked or can lack appreciation by the public because the religious can be classified just like any outside administrator, nurse, or teacher, namely, it is simply a job for which their services have been engaged. Furthermore, by donating a substantial amount of money to the support of the institution, the common impression that somehow the school or hospital is con-ducted for the monetary benefit of the religious order or congTegation can be effectively dissipated. Moreover, such a contribution is a way of discharg-ing the wish of Vatican II in its decree concerning religious where it is set down that: "Let them [re-ligious] willingly contribute something from their own resources., to the support of the poor, whom reli-gious should love with the tenderness of Christ." 14 (e) Separate incorporation with its financial conse-quences for the religious community would enable the community to implement another of Vatican II's pro-visions in the same decree: Depending on the circumstances of their location, communi-ties as such should aim at giving a kind of corporate witness to their own poverty . To the degree that their rules and constitutions permit, re-ligious communities can rightly possess whatever is necessary for their temporal life and their mission. Still, let them avoid every appearance of luxury, excessive wealth, and accumulation of possessions.1~ Relative to the point of financial contributions by the religious community to educational institutions, a change will be necessary in the common current practice of simply making book entries of what is frequently, if not always, referred to as "living endowment." In this procedure no actual transfer of money, namely, by check, is made to the religious community for the services rendered to the school by the individual re-ligious. Further, a certain amount of cash is deducted from the cash receipts of the institution for the main-tenance of the religious community, for example, food, clothing, health, contributions to province or/and generalate support, and so forth. This procedure can lead to questioning by outsiders: Are the religious ac-tually claiming as equivalent salaries, salaries which are actually higher than those paid to lay persons in like positions? Is the religious community, in some sense, deriving double indemnity, namely, a cash indemnity "Quoted from The Documents o[ Vatican 11, ed. Walter M. Abbott, S.J. (New York: America Press, 1966), pp. 475-6. ~a Ibid. 4- 4- ÷ Business Administration VOLUME 26, 1967 ÷ ÷ John J. Flanagan, S.I., lames I. O'Connor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS .794 through the amount deducted :for living expenses and a second indemnity in the form of a stated "living endowment" made to the school? Separate incorporation would also help in this area since the fi.nances of the school would be totally dis-tinct and distinguishable from those of the religious, community. Moreover, the school would issue checks to the religious just as it does to the ngn-religious members of the administrative and teaching staffs. Thus a.ny and all questions concerning the salary scale of the religibus personnel in comparison with that of other personnel could and should be easily answered. It would banish the idea or confusion, where had, that the re-ligious are receiving more than they should, whether that amount .equal double indemnity or less than that amount. Furthermore, any questioning or criticism of contri-butions. by the local religious community to the n~eds of the province or to the generalate or to any worthy cause outside the re.ligious institute would be stopped since all such contributions would now come out of the sum resulting from the salary checks to the local religious community. ¯ This method of explicit transfer of cash in the form of check for services rendered by individual religious to the institution .they staff is not in itself a new idea, It has been in effect in the Catholic hospital field for a number of years. It was brought about through pressure from outside agencies who refused to accept as identifiable operati~Jnal costs mere book entries without any actual transfer of cash. Moreover, it forced the religious community to be honest in its assignment of salaries for sisters. In some instances in the past there were cases where full salaries were set down for aged or for more-or-less incapacitated sisters who rendered absolutely no or very little health care service to the patients. Furthermore, this procedure of actual transfer of salary money produced a true picture of the actual operational costs'of the hospital and, thereby, gave it a just comparison with all other hospitals in the area 'not under Cath61ic auspices. It also disabused the public of the false notion that the religious need no or ex-tremely little mone~; for their own support and educa-tion, both as individuals and as a community. There is no reason why like benefits should not ac-crue also to religious ~engaged in the educational field. At least one religious teaching institute has already adopted this compensation procedure. It goes without saying that if checks are issued to individual religious, this action does not dispense them from the obligations of common life and those of their vow of poverty. All such compensation belongs actually to the religious community (c, 580, § 2). To avoid income tax.problems, it should be shown that the individual religious, because of his (her) vow of poverty, is simply a conduit from the institution to the religious community to which the money ac-tually goes and belongs. Another device to achieve the same purpose is a single check issued in the name of the local religious community and accompanied by a statement listing the names and amounts for each re-ligious on the institutional staff. Another phase of the business management of Catho-lic institutions concerns the intrqduction of lay trustees, lay.~ administrators, lay vice-presidents, or even a lay president. Use of lay people in positions of administra-tion of Catholic institutions is not, a new concept in the Church. It was set down for consideration as long ago as 1947 in question 94 (82), sections a) and b) of the quinquennial report formula: Wbr6 all the persons to whom ~e administration or manage-ment o~ property is entrusted, chosen with due care, after making all the previous investigations which were necessary or useful? Were the members of the institute itself given the preference over' outsiders for offices of administration, whenever this could prudently be done without loss? The actual as well as the potential role of lay people in ecclesiastical organizations and institutions was strong!~ emphasized by Vatican II. How to use lay persons in business management of Church-related in-stitutions is not an easy question to answer in view of current canon law.16 If the .suggestion of separate civil incorporation of the educational or health care facility is combined with that of introducing lay persons onto the board of trustees, the issue of alienation of the facility comes up for serious thought. Since all or nearly all existing Catholic schools, hospitals, and so forth serving the general public have heretofore been included in the quinquen-nial report as ecclesiastical property, they may not simply be omitted from the next such report without a manifestati6n of how they ceased to be ecclesiastical property.17 Some suggestions on how to handle this matter have been given above. When considering the possibility of complete separa-tion of Catholic institutions and the introduction of lay trustees and other lay officers of administration, In See James I. O'Connor, S.J., "Investing Administrating Au-thority," Hospital Progress, v. 46 (June, 1965), pp. 66-74, 79. See Q.R., 101-2 (88-9). Businesi Administration VOLUME 26, 1967 795: there is need to consider the values at stake. The value which has most influenced religious in the past is the guaranteed control of course content and practices which have religious and moral values. These are values which deal with the preservation of faith and moral practices. The values themselves are of essential im-portance and meaning to the Church and Christian life. They are values also through which religious wish to influence all aspects of American life.18 Christian lay men and lay women cherish these values as much as do priests and religious. The question is whether administrative control by religious is any longer the best or necessary mechanism to preserve and spread these values. Religious expect the Christian banker, manufacturer, and professional man to function according to Christian principles but they do not attempt to exercise an administrative con-trol over his activities. One of the objectives of Catholic education has been to develop Christian leaders. As these leaders emerge, should they not share with religious the responsibility of policy-making and management of Catholic institu-tions? It is important today that everything be done to strengthen religious houses and religious life. It is equally important that Catholic educational and health care institutions be permitted to reach full use-fulness in their respective spheres. The challenge fac-ing religious is to organize themselves in such a manner that these two objectives may be reached as effectively and as quickly as possible. x~Well worth reading relative to the educational apostolate are: "The New Catholic College" by Nell G. McCluskey, s.J., America, v. 116 (March 25, 1967), pp. 414-7; and " 'Laicization' of Catholic Collegcs" by Andrew Greeley, Christian Century, v. 82 (March 22, 1967), pp. 372-5. 4. + John J. Fianagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ANDRE AUW, c.P. An Attitude towards Community So much has been written on community that we are almost tired of the word. And yet we must continue to explore together the reality of community and to share together our common and separate failures in creating community. For it seems that we have never been more conscious of our need for community, and at the same time we have never felt more helpless in bringing it about. As one publication put it, during the past Christ-mas season: "This Christmas, too, we must celebrate the failure of community." We find ourselves rather confused, for many of our best efforts have not only failed to produce greater to-getherness, but have, in fact, produced greater isolation. Dialogue, intended to unify, has been, in many in-stances divisive. Liturgical renewal which was to serve as a bond of closer unity has all too often been a separat-ing factor. This is disturbing, because both dialogue and a meaningful liturgy must be at the very center of any structural renewal in religious life. Perhaps we have oversimplified the problem of com-munity. It is a very delicate and intricate problem and thus a problem for which there cannot be ready or easy answers. Community involves not only interper-sonal relationships but also superior-subject relation-ships. Past traditions and training affect it, as do current tides of }enewal. Commonality and differences of per-sonality, interest, needs, and work have to be considered. Other elements include such things as the size of the group, whether they work together as well as live to-gether, and how homelike is the atmosphere of their re-ligious houses. The list could be expanded considerably. Its purpose is merely to highlight the multifaceted char-acter of.the problem, so that we do not expect answers which are too ready or too easy. With this in mind, I would like to select one aspect of the problem of commuriity which might serve as a basis Andre Auw, C.P., writes ~rom 700 North Sunnyside Avenue; Sierra Ma-dre, California 91024. ~ ~' VOLUME 26, 1967 FOR 798 for a deeper study of the entire problem. I refer to a cer-tain "attitude" towards community which is an essen-tial first step towards the ultimate realization of an ex-perienced sense of community. A Sense ol Community Before discussing the elements that comprise this at-titude, let me describe in a general way what I mean by the term "community" as something experienced. Com-munity is, first of all, an experience of belonging, of feeling at home with people who need you and who know that you also need them. It is a liberating ex-perience, the freeing awareness that you can discard some of your masks with people whose primary concern is your welfare and with whom you can really relax. Community is a reassuring experience, which gives you the security of knowing that people are able to accept you even though they do not fully understand you; that they recognize your weaknesses without ever wanting to use this knowledge as a weapon against you. And if community is to be truly Christian, it must also be a joyful experience, the quietly joyful experience of being able to receive as well as to give Christian love. The sadness of non-community is the sadness of Christ not experienced. For when Christians discover the art of living together in community, when a new community is formed or an old community is formed anew, it is Christ who is born anew, made present in an incarnational manner, and who grows to maturity in the membe~:s. It is Christ's life which is shared and Christ's love which is experienced when community is experienced. However, growth from within presumes nourishment and care from without. The climate for growth must be right. Similarly, the climate for community, the attitude of the members towards community, must be right. The following remarks may serve as a background for a better understanding of a helpful attitude t,owards com-munity. Desire for Community A helpful attitude towards community contains many elements. One of these is a desire for community. This seems so obvious, and yet, existentially, it cannot be pre-sumed. Community as we have just described it involves a much deeper form of relating to one another than most religious have been accustomed to in the past. It de-mands greater openness; it pulls us more immediately and more personally into the lives of each other. This is not always understood or accepted as a positive value by religious who have been trained to regard close relation-ships as dangerous and openness as a quality reserved for dealings with one's confessor or spiritual director. For these religious, community can appear very threatening, and thus they have little, if any, desire for it. How to bring such religious to the experience of com-munity is in itself a very challenging and difficult ques-tion but is not the primary focus of this article. Later remarks may help to cast some light in this area of shadows, but the importance of its consideration as an element in the formation of a helpful attitude toward community is that we cannot presume at the outset that everyone in a religious group desires community. If the desire for community is there, we can build on that foundation, but we must determine this first. Sensitivity When the desire for community is present, another element must be considered, and that is a sensitivity towards the needs and feelings of others. This is very important, because community is a rather fragile thing in the beginning. It can never be forced or engineered. It is not the end product of any series of things-to-be-done, but rather the emergent of many adventures in interpersonal sharing. Many attempts at creating com-munity have ~ailed because they were based on the false premise that if enough things-to-be-done-together could be devised, a sense of togetherness would be the result. Doing things together is, of course, a part of the sharing necessary for community, but this can never be financed at the cost of real personal needs and feelings of the in-dividual members. Togetherness and community are not ends in themselves. This means that no matter how objectively good a project or activity might appear to be, if a large por-tion of the religious find it uncomfortable or distasteful, it should not be pursued. An evident application is in the area of the' liturgy. Most adult religious are willing to try out new liturgical practices which might render the act of worship more meaningful. But at the same time, as adults, they demand that the new liturgical expression be authentic for them. That which is authentic for a college student might not be meaningful for his teacher. A heightened sensitivity for the needs and feelings of others in such a situation could lead toward the dis-covery of some other and more personally communica-tive liturgical expression, Among other things, sensitivity brings to open aware-ness the strength level of the group. It helps us to make better use of appropriate timing in our dealings with one another and to gain a certain proficiency in detect-ing the prevailing emotional temperature of the indi-viduals as well as of the group. Sensitivity makes pru-÷ ÷ ÷ Community VOLUME 26, 1967 '/99 Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR REL[('qOUS 800 dence a living force in community'relationships,,iand thus it enables, love to grow, as it turns our ~attention, in a beautiful spirit of .listening, to the needs of othe~rs, rather than to our own. Love is an outgoing and out-pouring process, and these qualities increase as our sen-sitivity for others deepens. Sensitivity .must, in turn, be rooted in another ele~ ment which makes for a. healthy attitude toward com-munity, and that is reverence. Reverence is a deep, sacred respect for theperson. It sees in the person, a unique mirroring of God Himself, and bows down before this uniqueness. Community is experienced whe~ the uniqueness of each person, the singularly beautiful in-carnation of Christ in each of us, is shared, one with another. In fact, it is only our uniqueness that makes the unity of community possible, the integration and inter-weaving of disparate reflections into the one-prismed splendor.~ Unfortunately, something of the richness of the per-son has been lost through the years in our accent on the common life. A juridical approach to community led, historically, to a distorted concept of the commonness of the common life. An effort was made to rub out die lines of distinction so that there would be a kind of qniformity among religious. But what began, with a good inten-tion gradually developed into an aberration. The com-mon life was reduced more to the. level of a life of com-monness, Recreation, for example, became more of a devotion to rule than a time of personal re-creating. "Being there" became the prime concern, since this was a literal "fulfillment of the law," ~and a religiou.s was, very, often, harshly criticized for not being, or not want-ing to be, at recreation. The n, eeds of the person were not always considered under this heavily juridical stress on the commonality of the religious life. Community must not be so perverted. Any attempt to reduce these elements of the religious life to the lowest common denominator will also rob the individuals of the basic distinctions that they must retain and main-tain in order to create community, A fundamental rev-erence for the needs of the person must underline all community demands. Some peoplb need more group in, terraction than others; some need less. Reverence for one another recognizes these differences and respects them as sacred. If I, at times, must withdraw from the group, it does not necessarily imply that I am unwilling to share with them. It may simply mean that at the moment I am psychologically incapable of it. On the other hand, there will be times when, by the very demands of love, I will forego the satisfaction of my needs in order to meet the needs of others, even at great personal cost. But this is a decision which I must make, and for which I alone am responsible before God. The community, in a spirit of reverence, will respect this decision, communicating their acceptance of my many moods as well as of my community contributions. Love Relationships Another element that is involved in a helpful atti-tude toward community is our understanding of love relationships. We must bear in mind that love relation-ships exist on many different levels. The main levels are those of husband and wife, of parent and child, of friend and friend. But in addition there are those brief but nevertheless genuine encounters with others who may have b(en acquaintances or even strangers and who bring to us love in the form of a gift or of shared con-cern or valuable insights. Each level of love has its own beauty and its own par-ticular norms. The love of a man for his neighbor is no less sacred because it lacks something of the richer di-mension of the love he shares with his wife. These loves are simply different. This distinction has application in. the religious life, for many religious are not really very secure in the knowledge of just what kinds Of love relationships are permissible for them or appropriate for them. Some be-lieve that the only level of relating that would be ap-propriate would be a relationship marked by kindness and consid6ration but.also protected by a thick insula-tion of what is termed, psychologically, as "distance." This kind of relating is in itself good and helpful; but it is by no means adequate for a religious, espe-cially a celibate religious. For such a man or woman, deep and warm relationships as friends, are absolutely necessary. It is ironic that the greatest aid in enabling celibates to remain celibate has been for so long con-sidered celibacy's greatest enemy. Today we recognize rich human love between men and men, between women and women,°and between men and women, a love that is outgoing and selfless, a love that makes us experience our dignity and worth as persons, that makes us feel needed and wanted and lovable--this, too, is a level of love which is open to us as religious. And, in fact, it is only this~ kind of love that will enable us to grow to ma-ture fulfillment as persons. It goes without saying that such love relationships do contain a possible threat of overinvolvement, just as parenthood always contains the danger of overposses-siveness or domination. But this is abuse, and as such, Community 801 'something .to be.considered but not to be made the focal poini ~of examination. As we understand ourselves and the nature Of these love relationships, we should also grow more mature in dealing with them. A great deal of overinvolvement has beeninduced by an adolescent understanding of love relationships and bY a preoccu-pation with the fear of uncontrolled emotion. Love relationships in the religious life will vary. The rich I-Thou relationships of close friends are as r~re as they 'are beautiful. More often there will be elements a. kind o[' neighlSor~neighbor relationship :interwoven wi~h parent-child, friend,friend, and yet alwa.ys marked by a warmth that,is as Christian ag it is human, a warmth that slieaks from ,heart to heart. Our understanding of the ,varieties of. love's expres-sion as' well as the' different levels of~love relationships is 'a very important, element in the formation, of,a~healthy and helpful:.attitude,towards community. Fo~,it will be principal!~t through these love relationships that the ex-perience of community will. be shared with the individ-uals in the group. ~he Size o[ the C'o'mmunity One final factor which should be considered, although it is in.a different category from the previous elements, is the size of the .community:~ Our attitude toward the size of'the group will: affect our ability to develop a sense~ of community., 0 This has particular.meaningS for religious~who live in ¯large convents' br monasteries. The question arises: "Is it possible to have a genuine sense of community.in such large groupings of'~religious?'' Experience seems to an, swer~ in the negative; and rather than frustrate ourselves further in trying to create community in these~ large gatherings, we might think creatively~ towards, other so-lutions . dPsychologists, specializin~ in group dynamics, are un-animous, in their opinion that. the experience of com-munity is almost impossible in large groups. They pre-fer smaller cell groups of from six to eight people~ And ~ven in Sensitivity and Basic Encounter Groups, the fire" "community" of :these°smaller groups is'. seldom more than forty. But~!the principal work of ~ommunity + is achieved in the smaller gatherings.: '÷ ~ ,A number of seminaries in Europe and a fe~, in this + country have been experimenting with a sim'il~r ~concept of community. The larger community, is broke'n down .4~Ire.~luw, ~.t'. into 'sinaller."families" of seminarians clustered a~ound a~v~w ~0~ one 15riest. Most of _~the formation program is handled ~u~0us by these smaller, groups in dialogue, rather than inqec- 802 ~ture forin, as previously was done., . , Also,. on the parish, level, a number of experim, ents are going on in the inner city sections of our ,larger ~cities, using the same principle of smaller groups, formed along the lines of their common interests, and:a common desire to share together. ' This is the type of "new community" which Father Andrew Greeley refers to in a recent article. We find here a pattern which may well fit the frame of religious life. Is it not possible that the formation of smaller subgroups could be fostered within a large com-munity? At one time such a notion would have been considered anti-community. But psychology .and experi-ence both indicate that most likely the only way the entire community is going to be brought to a genuine ex-perience, of community is through the formation-of smaller subgroups, which in turn could act a.s real. leav-ening agents for the whole group. Again, there is always the possibility of sma.ller grgups turning into cliques which ingest j upon themselyes, and every~ prudent means must be taken to preclude this .eventuality. However, cliques more often than not are formed ~by people who feel rejected by the community and use these devices as means to strike back at a group they .feel: is basically unloving and non-accepting. The greatest reason for the community to give its in~- dividual ,and. collective blessing to the formation of smaller groups is that only when the individuals can open themselves up to the experience, of shared love in a smaller group will they be able to relate in a more loving way to the. community-at-large. For religious living in smaller houses, the problem is slightly different. Where there are only from five to ten religious living together, it. is hard to, have smaller sub-groups, yet even the recognition of smaller grouping as a valuable thing and the understanding of friendship as integral to a community can be of great help. But for these smaller houses, is it not possible to project the ideal of religious selecting the houses or the groupings to whichthey would feel best suited? Some communities of sisters are already experimenting with this plan. The complications are as obvious as they are numerous, and for many superiors they would be too great to imple-ment. However, it is a factor that must not be brushed aside lightly. The Church in every line of its function-ing is moving into greater dimensions of ecclesial ac-tion. Team work is becoming the hallmark of our apos-tolic activities; and team work, to be effective, presumes a gathering together of people who can and who want to work together. More and more we are beginning to appreciate the value of small groups. As our appreciation of this value ¯ Community ~ ~ ¯ VOLUME 26, 1967 :803 becomes an extended application to our religious com-munities, so our attitude towards the creation of com-munity will be increasingly helpful. Small groups are not magic gatherings. It is simply that a person can experi-ence the warmth of love better in a smaller room. Large buildings are both easy to get lost in, and impossible to heat, and too many religious, for too long, have re-mained lost, hidden, and cold, within our Christian communities. Conclusion These, then, are the elements which comprise an at-titude which is conducive to creating the experience of community: a desire for community, an increased sen-sitivity for the needs and feelings of others, a reverence for the uniqueness of persons, and an understanding of the different levels of love relationships. Finally, in the practical working-out-of-things, there is the considera-tion of the size of the group. For many these reflections will be repetitious, for some they may appear novel, and for others they may even seem rather frightening. But for all of us, they can serve as an opportunity to take a good hard look at our own attitude towards community. And hopefully our looking would lead to some kind of action. Because even talking about community is no longer good enough. We must be brave enough to risk new ventures in commu-nity and to experiment with new structures. The secular city and the inner city with their maelstrom of an-guished problems cannot wait much longer for us to dis-cover the meaning and experience of community. These people need us united in love so that we can communicate to them Christ's all embracing love and draw them into the circle of His family, of His com-munity. But none of this can be accomplished until we know, by experience, the reality of community. There is, in the very air around us, a note of urgency. We need community. We need it desperately. And we need it now. Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 804 GARY F. GREIF, S.J. The Vows and Christian t fe The life of the vows, as a form of Christian life, pre-sents special problems today for understanding. It has always been clear that this is merely one of the forms of Christian life and that the other forms are equally valid. Nevertheless, the life of the vows has been pro-posed traditionally as something special in Christian life; and 'for this reason its adoption has been said to demand a special call from God. As not everyone, is called to live this form of Christian lif~, not everyone can be expected to live it; and besides, there are other forms of ChriStian life. And if these are not as exalted as the life of the vows, they are just as valid. This is the traditional view. But today one can clearly sense severe doubts about this position, if not complete repudiation of its central thesis. It may be granted that not everyone is called .to live with vows; but it may also be asked whether anyone should live such a life, and therefore whether, in our day, such a call may not be a passing reality, to be perpetuated only through delusion. This sceptical attitude stems partly from a growing awareness of the dignified role of the layman in Chris-tian life, and as well from an understanding of human life which seems to render traditional arguments for the perfection of the vows fallacious. If the layman is not simply to await the nod from ecclesiastical authority before taking initiative in the Christian community for its welfare but is to act responsibly according to the legitimate inspirations he receives from the Holy Spirit, then leadership in the Christian community does not be-long exclusively to a privileged class,x Every Christian 1 See ~iatican II, Lumen gentium (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church), The Documents of Vatican II, ed. Walter ~M. Abbott, s.J. (New York: America Press, 1966), p. 30: %. [the Holy Spirit] dis-tributes special graces among the faithful of every rank. By these gifts He makes them fit and ready to undertake the various tasks or offices advantageous for the renewal and upbuilding of the + + + Gary GreiL S.J., is a member of Regis College; 3425 Bayview Avenue; Willowdale, On-tario; Canada. ~ , VOLUME 26, 1967,. ;~ , 805 ÷ ÷ plays an important role in the concerns of the Church; and it is becoming increasingly more evident that the layman can perform as well, if not at times better, func-tions previously reserved to priests and religious. Fur: thermore, wherea~ men and women with vows are in-capable of experiencing directly many of the common aspects of Christian life, such as raising a family, provid-ing for one's own economic security, and the often pain-ful decisions this entails, the layman can speak with firsthand acquaintance with these affairs in attempting to improve and advance Christianity. With this aware-ness, much advice from religious can sound like de-tached theory with little or no connection with the data. And since the greater part of mankind is in fact not bound by the three vows, it may seem that those who are cannot possibly relate realistically to problems where they arise with greatest frequency. Then there are the traditional arguments for the life of the vows, arguments which at present appear lacking in appreciatio.n of immanent human values. Through the vows, it has been argued, a Christian. empties him-self, ,undergoes a sort of martyrdom, and thereby makes' it possible for God to fill his .being.2 This emptying proceeds by denying oneself possessions, sexual pleasure, and personal decision. The, problem with this argument, of course, is that none of these is, of itself, an obstacle to the life of God. God works in and through human values and not in spite of them; or, to speak tradition-ally, grace builds on nature. And though there is risk in living according .to human potentiality, nothing is gained simply by placing oneself in a situation in which risk is eliminated. For elimination of risk e.ntails elimi-nation of possibility for growth and development. And besides, if pr)vate possessions, the use of sexuality, and personal decision were simply obstacles, to growth in the life of God, most Christians would be unable to live with unreserved dedication their roles in the world. The more seriously they would dedicate themselves to living Church . " Also, see Apostolicam actuositatem (Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity), p. 64: "An individual layman, by reason of the knowledge, competence, or outstanding ability which he may enjoy, is permitted and sometimes even obliged to express his opinion on things which concern the good of the Church)' Here-after, all references to thd documents of Vatican lI will be to the Abbott edition: 2Thus, according to Jacques Gervais, O.M.I., in "The End and' the Means in Religious Life," (Donum Dei, n. 10 [Ottawa, 1965],~' pp. 86-7), the purpose of the vows "is to produce that empty space in the heart, that interior poverty and complete detachment that opens the door for the flood of paschal grace. That void and that poverty are essential tb every Christian life . The vows dispose us more surely, more completely, more efficaciously to create this void." a Christian life, the more guilty they would have to feel~for involving themselves in normal human affairs. Another argument for the life of the vows looks upon involvement in normal human affairs as at best a detour on the road. to God. Through the vows a Christian fs enabled to proceed directly to God, without the neces-sity of entanglement in "worldly" concerns,a Through the vows, one can live only for God, and thus can move with greater speed toward the common goal of all Chris-tians. Or, if one prefers a different metaphor, we can consider the route of those without the vows as the usual way to God, and the course of those with the vows as a shortcut. Whichever way we view it, this argument is based on the premise that what is relinquished through the vows hinders a life of union with God. The argu-ment therefore suffers the same inadequacy as the pre-vious one. Because these arguments have seemed deficient, a more positive argument for the life of the vows has become popular today. Through the vows a Christian gives wit-ness to the eschatological nature of the ChurchA For by renouncing fundamental temporal values, the Christian bears witness to the transcendental or transtemporal as-pect of the Church's nature. A life of the vows thus bears public witness to the eschatological nature of the Church, representing the goal or final purpose of the life of the Church as prefigured in those of her members who live only for that goal and who make this explicit and public. Clearly, all Christians must live in the faith and hope of this goal. But, on this theory, only those Christians publicly manifest this fact who explicitly re-nounce in their lives fundamental and purely temporal values. As appealing as this theory seems to many, as an ar-gument for the central and fundamental meaning of the life of the vows it suffers from two defects. The first stems from de facto considerations. If this argument is to s Robert F. Lechn'er, C.PP.S. seems to say this in his article "In the Light of Divine Love" (Donum Dei, no. 4 [Ottawa, 1962], p. 34): "The religious, however, with a boldness and excess we allow only to lovers, does not deny creatures but simply turns his back upon them and forgets everything but God." 4See J. M. R. Tillard, O.P., "Religious Life, Sacrament of God's Presence," in REvmw FOE RELtCIOUS, V. 23 (1964), pp. 6-14; Robert F. Lechner, G.PP.S., "In the Light of Divine Love," pp. 36-40; John D. Gerken, S.J., Towards a Theology of the Layman (New York: Herder and Herder, 1963), esp. pp. 56-71, in which the author sets out Karl Rahner's theory on the meaning of the vows according to their value for wituess. A translation of one of Rahner's recent articles on this subject can be found in Religious Orders in the Modern World (Westminster: Newman, 1966), pp. 41-75, under the title "The Theology of the Religious Life." The theory here is essentially the witness-theory. 4, 4, ÷ The Vows VOLUME 26, 1967 80'/ 4. 4. 4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 808 carry any real force, it must be possible to maintain that the Christian who lives according to the values foregone through the vows cannot in fact bear the type of public witness which is possible through a life of the vows. If he were able to give such witness, the vows would serve no purpose as such. But is this in fact impossible? Does not the married man who makes great sacrifices out of love for God bear witness to God's transcendence over purely temporal values? And does the manager of a busi-ness not give this same witness when he foregoes mone-tary gain through love and respect for the Church's teaching on social justice? It may be argued that this witness is not formally given, by such Christians since their precise motive cannot be made public in their ac-tions. It does not take long, however, for the reasons for true Christian behavior to become known, especially in a society permeated with non-Christian values.5 The second defect of this theory is that the vows, con-sidered as means for giving witness to the transcendent aspect of the Church, can only indirectly affect personal growth in perfection. In order for one to grow in love of God by giving witness, he must do so because this is how God wants him to serve the Church. Even if we. admit that pronouncing the vows is necessary in order to achieve this, we cannot hold, on this theory, that pronouncing the vows is directly intended by God in calling a person to be a witness. The witnessing itself is what God would directly want, whereas He would only indirectly desire that vows be pronounced, since these would be essential conditions for the type of witness to be given. This means that a person answering such a call would fulfill what it primarily and directly intends only while actually witnessing. And this is not achieved simply through .existing with the vows but demands further activity and circumstances whereby others may recognize what existence with the vows implies. If it be-came impossible for one existing with the vows per-sonally tO give witness, his vows would become per-sonally meaningless, since they would not be a means for his serving the Church and thus would cease to be a means for personal perfection. It cannot be denied that one living a life of the vows gives witness, nor that this witness is valuable. But the question in point is, what is the precise character of this witness. If the vows achieve some personal value for the one l~ronouncing them, this ~ See Vatican II, Lumen gentium, pp. 59-60: "Thus every layman, by virtue of the very gifts bestowed upon him, is at the same time a witness and a living instrument of the mission of the Church herself . " And ibid., p. 65: "Each individual layman must stand before the world as a witness to the resurrection and life of the Lord J'esus and as a sign that God lives." should govern the specific nature of whatever witness can be given through them. It is the value that is achieved through the life of the. vows that makes wit-nessing possible, and not witnessing that makes possi-ble a value for the life of the vows. What is, then, the value achieved through the vows? .s, simple answer does not seem initially possible. And' at the present stage of reflection 6n the meaning of the vows, a stage in history conditioned by extreme complex-ity, any attempt at an answer must be strictly an attempt, open to revision and clarification. The attempt that fol-lows is meant, then, to be merely a sketch of a possible approach to the meaning of the vows. And because the vows do not place one outside the general flow of Chris-tian life but are one of the forms of its realization, it will be important, in attempting to determine the mean-ing of the vows, to consider briefly the meaning of Chris-tian life itself. For it is this meaning that is realized in manifold manners; and if any of the forms which realize it are to be understood properly, that which they realize must be understood. All that is true of Christians in gen-eral must .hold true of Christians with vows. Not only, then, can one with vows not sacrifice what belongs es-sentially to being a Christian, but the meaning of the vows cannot adequately be grasped apart from an un-derstanding of the meaning of Christian life in general. Christian Life in General The realization of God's lov(for man, through Christ, is the meaning of Christian life in general. But due to the essentially historical nature of Christ's redeeming act, no man can realize God's love apart from the living activity of the Church, This means that, if man is to realize to any extent at all the meaning of his existence, the People of God will play an essential role in his life. Whateve~ the abstract possibilities may be for encounter-ing God, there can be no encounter of Him by man, as he presently exists, apart from the mediating activity of the Church.6 This consideration is of prime impor-tance for achieving any proper understanding of the pos-sibilities open to man in his radical search for the mean-ing of life in general and of his own life in particular. Perfection cannot be achieved by man through a ground-ing of free choice in a philosophical World-absolute. Nor can it be realized by simply answering a totally trans-cendent being who calls from the distant regions of an unperceivable kingdom. God's call to man now is neces-sarily vocalized through the Church. His call, there-n See E. Schillebeeckx, O. P., Christ the Sacrament, trans. Paul Barrett, O. P. and N. D. Smith (New York: Sheed and Ward, Stag-books, 1964). The ltows " VOLUME 26, 1967 809 4. Gary l~ : Greiy, $.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 fore, comes, to us. immediately as something concrete, per-ceptible, temporal, and human: This is true, even though the source of this call is in itself, unperceivable, eternal, and divine. And it is .true, even though men who receive it may not be aware of its immediate source. Anyone who thinks that he has a relationship with God which is simply immediate, or totally unmediated, is far from the truth. It would be just as erroneous to conceive one's relationship with God as a totally per-so. n-to-person,, individual-to-individual affair. For God can be encountered only' thro.ugh the activity of His Church, and therefore all personal,relationship.with God is essentially communal. The Church is precisely a peo-ple, a community established in the loving power of God and r~tufning that love through_ .its personal response.¢ God does, through Christ,, open Himself to individuals in lov~ and2.asks for their individual response in love. But this of~dr, is made through the comm.unity .of the People of God,,~and it is in this community that God is encountered. Whoever, therefore, responds to God's call for personal love of Himself is included ~within the com-munity through which and in which the call is made. No one, .therefore, approaches the, Father except through the Son; and since the Son is incarnate and made present to us now through His Church, all must encounter God through Christ as present in His com-munity. A further point to be attended to is that the mediating role of the Church is not aft undifferentiated, inert instrum~ntality of some sort. For.the Church is a living community, 'a complex reality as alive and com-plex~ as Christ Himself who she is and whose love and life she continues visibly in the temporal order. In medi-ating God's .love to man and man's response in love to God, the Church has diverse manners of expressing its life, among which" seven are primary. As visible embodi-ments and mediators of the personal love of God, these are called sacraments. And as deriving their meaning and role. frbm~,the Church itself, they ,are means .of en-countering' God in Christ; Man can,~ of course; encounter Christ in' all human and temporal,reality and activity. But every contact a man has with God in Christ finds its culmination and proper realization in~ ,the sacraments. For every ,realization of God's love is sacramental, in-cluding that which, as achieved apart from the 'sacra- . 7See Lumen gent~urn, p. 25: "It has pleased God, however to make men 'holy a~hd save them not merely as~ individuals witho6t any mutual bonds, but bymaking them into a single people,, a people which acknowlddges Him in truth and_ serves Him in holi-ness." The Latin text i~ more forceful, saying simply "Placuit tamen Deo homines non singulatim, quavis mutua connexion~ seclusa, sanctificare ~t salvare . " (,4eta ,4t~ostolica~' Sedis, ~. ~7 [Jan. 30, 1985], pp. 12-1~, n. 9 [italics added]). ments themselves, reaches its fullness only in the sac-raments. Therefore, though God can be encountered outside the sacraments, such encounter is always achieved as an incipient realization of full and proper encounter with Christ, the sacrament of the encounter with God, in the seven sacraments. And since these sacraments achieve meaning and reality in and ,through the. life of the Church, we can say that man encounters God only in and through encounter with the Church.s Man initially encounters God in His Church, in an explicit and fully committed mahner, when he is bap-tized. 9 In this, sacramental act he is committed funda-mentally and totally to the love of God, thus entering in a" radical manner an unconditional love relationship with the People of God through whom the relationship is made possible and realized. Since this commitment is unconditional, it necessarily calls forth and centers all the vital aspects of the baptized in the person who has opened Himself in love. This means that the commit ment is visible, expressing outwardly .the total dedication arid transformation of the entire person. This expres-sibn in visibility of the baptismal commitment, since it is mediated through the community which is explicitly and visibly in union with God through love of Christ, entails explicit commitment, to the community of the People of God.'~ Since this commitment is of the entire person/it trans-cends thd limitations of space and time. In this one act 0[ dedication, the entire past and future' of th~ person is ~ollect'ed in a single moment. All that the person has been is called upon to direct and channel all that he will become in and through the single act of loving commitment.' His entire future is prelived through the ac~ of present realization of all he has been. The bap-tismal commitment dferefore encompasses the total real-ity of tl~e person so entering a love relationship with God. But a person's Iife work is not finished in this single act: For though he is committed for all time and in every place and circumstance, he has not lived out his entire 'life, in this act, through all its concrete actuality. His commitment, though complete as such, must be in-tensified and developed through the fuller development and intensification of his personal existence. This is what it'means to live out a commitment. Nevertheless, though the*initial act of total love made possible through bap-tis'm must be' developed, the lines along which it can be developed are initially structured by the meaning of the commitment itself. The commitment made at baptism is one of love and See Schilleb.eeckx, Christ the Sacrament, esp. pp. 223-9. 8 Ibid., pp. 176-9. + + + .The ,Vows VOLUME 26, 1967 81:1 specifically of love for God in Christ through the com-munity of the People of God. The meaning of this com-mitment can therefore be sketched briefly according to the meaning of human love and according to the spe-cific constituents of the Christian love situation. 4- 4- 4- Gary F. GreiF, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 812 The Meaning of Human Love Human love always involves the entire being of the individual.10 For love is achieved when an individual offers himself, by all that he is, to another, and in this act receives the other's total offer of himself. Love arises in a situation of complete mutuality, such that the to-tal giving of oneself is at the same time a total receiving of oneself. This total giving and receiving in the situa-tion of love, however, never constitutes concretely the complete perfection of the individuals involved as long as it occurs within the purely human order. Neverthe~ less, it does constitute their complete perfection in prin~ ciple; that is, it establishes the basis for meaningful hu-man development. For, as open by nature to indefinite possibility for self-realization, man in fact proceeds by degrees to the realization of what he is in principle; and there can be no a priori limits set to the degree of per-fection he can achieve concretely. Furthermore, what governs his development is what in principle is unlim-ited in perfection. He can, and does, develop according to the realization of values which in principle are lim-ited; but his development according to such values pro-ceeds in an undistorted manner only if it is governed constantly by a value which in principle is proportion~ ate to his nature, that is, by a value which is in princi-ple unlimited. And since, in the human order, only hu-man individuals can constitute in principle the value according to which a man's entire development can proceed properly, since only human individuals are in principle unlimited as capable of indefinite develop-ment, it is only in and through love that an individual can discover true meaning to his life. For each human individual is unlimited openness, ~in openness which is not some empty space to be filled up, but which is a dynamic activity to be progressively real-ized in greater perfection. What, therefore, no one hu-man individual can constitute through himself alone, each can discover through another. No one individual can constitute for himself unlimited value, for every lo The phenomenology for what follows can be found in Martin Buber's 1 and Thou (trans. Ronald Gregor Smith [New York: Scrib-ner's, 1958]), a, nd Between Man and Man (trans. Ronald Gregor Smith [London: Fontana Library, 1947]); and in F. J. J. Buytendijk's Phdnomdnologie de la rencontre (trans~ Jean Knapp [Descl& de Brouwer, 1952]). human individual is in fact limited. But when one in-dividual, as dynamic openness, offers himself, by all that he is and can be, to another such openness, and the other responds by all that he is and can be by offering himself to the first, each becomes ordered to being totally ful-filled through the active self-giving of the other. And though this fulfillment exists only in principle, or as a value to be progressively realized, it establishes the basis for the life project of working out fulfillment in con-crete detail. It is in this situation of mutual self-giving that the human individual discovers what alone can ful-fill his nature. Only what is unlimited perfection can constitute a value adequate for the development of the human individual. And only through the situation of mutual and total self-giving can this value be recognized. It is therefore in the situation called love that a per-son discovers and properly begins to realize the meaning of his existence. And though this meaning is revealed through human love, it points beyond the merely hu-man situation to that person who is not simply in prin-ciple unlimited in perfection but is unlimited in fact. In every human love situation, there is a built-in in-adequacy stemming from the necessary limitation in fact of the human individual. For man is in principle a dynamic possibility for indefinite development in per-fection, and as such, can never be unlimited perfection in fact. When one person opens himself to another com-pletely and thus accepts the other in an unlimited manner, he commits himself to the other as in principle unlimited in perfection. Nevertheless, he is aware of the factual limitation of the other and intends both for him-self and the other fulfillment through realization of re-lation with one who is unlimited in fact. In this sense, God is present in every purely human love situation, and it is God alone who can perfectly situate man in a to-tally fulfilling act of love. Implications of Human Love The term "love" is used so widely these days, in so many diverse contexts and with so many different mean-ings, that it seemed imperative to give this brief outline of its meaning as the fundamental value in man's life. On the basis of what we have indicated, we can make a few observations about the manner in which the love situation must be lived out by all who are consistent with the value it constitutes. Since this situation involves mutuality of self-giving, those situated in it must be at-tentive to the needs, desires, projects, judgments, and in general, to all the vital forces operative in one another's lives. This attention must be sincere, that is, given with the entire being of those involved, for the mutuality of VOLUME 26, 1967 81,~ ÷ ÷ Gary F. Gre~, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 814 the love situation calls for the concrete realization of what it entails i~t principle. This attention to the existence of the other does not mean, therefore, that one person simply subordinates himself completely to an-other, such that the other becomes his complete master and he becomes a slave. Such complete subordination would preclude any realization of the mutuality de-manded by love. Nevertheless, within the context of mu-tuality, it may be the case that one person will be more capable than the other in certain areas of life; and thus, though the more capable can never demand respect at the expense of mutuality in self-giving, he can desire and has a right to hope that the other will allow him to exercise his capability for the other's benefit. For both are dedicated to the well-being of the other by giving themselves to one another in love. This means, of course, that the one exercising his capability for the other, will himself constantly be open to receiving the being of the other in this exercise and will himself receive what the other has to offer him. The .love situation thus entails a spirit of obedience, which is fundamentally the attentiveness of those in-volved to one another in all the concrete details of the life-project to which they have mutually committed themselves. It has its source in mutuality of self-giving which is total and uncompromising. If this spirit is not present, dedication in love is empty of meaning and reality; and what is announced as love is merely some form of selfishness and self-centeredness. Only that person who is completely perfect in fact can claim the right never to commit himself in obedience to another. For only such a person could claim absolute ability to know what is best for the other and could give promise of achieving this. And yet, not even such a completely perfect person, acting consistently with love, could de-mand slavery of the other; for this would mean that he would not be offering himself to the other but only us-ing the other for his own ends. If love, as the fundamental value in man's life, must situate all other values, it nevertheless does not, of it-self, spell out all the values which man can discover in life, Among these values are those which arise from man's need to possess goods for his continued existence and well-being. It is the nature of possession that what is possessed is subordinate to the possessor; for it de-rives its value as existing simply for him, to be used by him for his own well-being. Such use is legitimate, if what is possessed has in principle of itself perfection less than that of the possessor. For then there is no distortion in subordinating it to oneself. On the other hand, the use of one man by another would constitute distortion of the reality of both, for no man is by nature inferior to another. The only valid stance that can be taken to a human individual is that which regards the other as perfect in principle as oneself. There can only be a material similarity between the way we at times treat other men and the way we treat what is inferior to men. For though men must at~times be operated-on, or analyzed, or taught to perform certain functions, none of these activities can ever be conducted in abstraction fromthe fact that they regard what in principle is far superior to a mere living organism or a set of subhu-man data. Mere organisms and mere data can be pos-s: essed and controlled by man; but possession and un-qualified control of man by man is inconsistent with the meaning of human existence. There is, therefore, a spirit which breathes through th~ love situation precluding the possession and use of another. Possession can be valid when there is question of satisfying human needs through what is, by its na-ture, subordinate to man. But not even possession such as this can lay any claim to. totally fulfilling human existence. As a valid means for living out this existence, it must always be situated within the one absolute value f6r man. Any activity which either contradicts or is car-ried on in abstraction from the context of love must ultimately bear distorted fruit. Because man is bodily and his drive for ultimate satis-faction in perfection involves himself as bodily, one of the common forms of possession and use of others is subordination for mere sexual gratification. One cannot prescind from the sex of the person loved, for the total being of the person is situated in love. On the other hand, because the human individual is open to an in-definite degree of perfection, his perfection does not consist simply in bodily fulfillment. Whoever therefore would seek"in another merely bodily satisfaction, even though iu this act looking to the bodily, satisfaction of the other, would be acting outside the context of love and thus would effect distortion of himself and the other. For love situates human individuals in total and mutual self-giving, and any approach to another less than total, prescinding frbm the nature of man as such, cannot be situated in love. We can enter love only if we enter it bodily; there can never be for man in this life an angelic form of love. But the meaning of man's bod-ily being depends upon the context in which it is de-termined. Its fullest meaning can therefore be deter-mined only in the context of love, for it is this context which reveals the fullest meaning of man himself. If the meaning° of sex is established from a purely bio-logical or psychological basis, questions concerning its ÷ ÷ ¯ The Vows VOLUME 26, 1967 815 ÷ ÷ Gary F. Greit, $4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 816 proper role in human activity can never adequately be resolved. For human bodily relations achieve their full and proper meaning only in the context of full and proper 'human self-realization. And since man can only properly realize himself through another in love, he will never properly understand himself and his bodily, ac-tivity if~ he prescinds from this context. All use of sex must proceed through a spirit of chastity, for it is this spirit which is operative in the recognition of the human person's value. Sexuality is by no means of itself evil, but it can be distorted and thus made evil, if it is conducted at the expense of an-other's total meaning. Within the-context of love, one can determine the manner in which he will effectively work out his relationship with others; and this may or may not entail the exercise of genital sexuality. When it does, the love which situates the exercise of genital sex-uality will give it a properly human meaning. For there is no one simple meaning to genital sexuality. We can designate it minimally as that expression and realiza-tion of man's sexuality which is genitally oriented. But the further meaning this has in the concrete will vary according to the contexts which realize it. Genital sex-uafity, then, will be fully human if it emerges in the context of true human love, for then it will he inte-grated in the true meaning of the person. Since, how-ever, total mutual self-giving establishes a situation which, because of the dynamic natures of those it situ-ates, must be lived out in varying concrete detail, it need not entail communication through bodily existence according to all the possibilities for its realization. When it is realized through exercise of genital sexuality, the communication must be governed by the fundamental situation which gives full meaning to all forms' of human expression. The moment one truly enters love, all misuse of sex is precluded as a possibility, to the extent that the love situation is effectively maintained. Christian Love These three aspects of love clearly embody the spirit of the evangelical counsels. We have been discussing, how-ever, the meaning of human love in general; :and there-fore more has to be said before the specific meaning of explicit Christian love can be brought into focus. Love is explicitly Christian when it' situates a community of people in receptive openness to God in the person of Christ. When one loves as a Christian, explicitly in-volving himself in this love, he enters a community, established through the love of Christ, whose sole mean-ing is the realization of God's love for man. As an ex-plicit community, it entails structure and organization; but this is subordinate to the primary meaning of the community as a people responding to, and making pos-sible response to the self-giving of God to man. All that has been said so far concerning the general mean-ing of love becomes more determinate in the context of explicitly Christian love; for Christian love is not some totally unrelated form of love. It embodies whatever can be' said of love in general, and does so in a pecu-liarl~ significant nianner. Christian love promises what no merely human love can validly promise. It promises the complete.fulfillment of man through personal union with the absolutely perfect person of the Father, achieved through the equally perfect person of His Son, bb~h of whom pour out their love in the person of the Holy Spirit. The distinguishing factor in Christian love, then, is that'it situates the human individual in personal union with God in and through a community established by Christ for this. purpose. The communal aspect of Chris-tian love is of the highest 'significance. Just as those situ-ated in merely human love are committed to look after the needs and to respect the freedom of one another, so those~situated in explicitly Christian love must look to the needs and responsible decisions of the community. This means that the Christian must be seriously con-cerned, not only with the properly ecclesial affairs o[ the Church, but must also take seriously the temporal needs and concerns of the People of God. It means further that, not only the needs and concerns of those who explicitly belong to the Christian community but also the needs and concerns of all those who are in-cipiently and implicitly Christian and of all who are or-dered to Christian life by the dignity of their being must be looked after by the Christian. For Christ meant His love to embrace all men, and whoever professes to love Christ must share this same concern. The meaning of Christian life in general therefore in-volves, in broadest outline, love of God, realized through love of Christ in and through a community established for and by this love in the life of the Spirit. But it in-volves as well the three characteristics of human love we indicated previously. Since these play an essential role in understanding the place of the three vows in Christian life, it is important that their implications for Chris-tian life in general be clearly understood. The first of these characteristics is that of responsiveness to the in-sights, judgments, opinions, and convictions of those situated in love. Anything less would imply that real mutuality were absent, and thus that no real love situa-tion existed. In the Christian community of love, this means that everyone, no matter what his status, must be The Vows VOLUME 26, 1967 817 ÷ ÷ respected in the decisions which each member of the commudity takes in regard to the ~whole. No one can simply be excluded from the formatio.n of such de-cisions, for everyone in the com_munity is interrelated through the personal love of~ God, and the ,community itself exists to bring men into~ intimate union,with God through personal response ~to Christ's love. Some in the community clearly have the role of finally determi~ning courses of action, of-~ taking,~ the initiative in certain spheres of activity, of passing final judgment on affairs. But~no matter,, what the status of any member ,[._the community may be, if the situation of IQve which funda-, mentally constitutes the commu.nity is to be seriouslyLre.- sp~cted, all must be respected in whatever action or. de-cision is taken. Purely authoritarian or autocratic rule has no place in the People of God. God alone0can claim perfection sufficient to indicate what is right and wrong without ~onsulting. But not ev~en God expects a pure)y p~issive submission from His people; for His relationship, to them is one of love; and this means that He awaits constantly, their response to: Him through.all that~ they are, including their powers of decision and judgment. , The ~econd characteristic of love ,is that it is achieved only, if possession is never allowed to extend to another person. This ~means that possession and possessions are always 6f secondary value.to,.a true Christian and that no, person, can be uged for one's own ~well-being. Wealth may-play an important role in the Christian community, .but its role is always secondary to the role of strictly per-sonal values., Real scandal can be caused by Christians "who give the impression that their possessions, are what matter most,,'to them or who ,~seem .to identify their Christianity with the value of wealth.~Being poor .does not necessarily,° in this context, mean that one is desti-tute, nor that one does not live comfortably; but it does mean that one considers .all.his possessions secondary to the value of giving and receiving in love. It would be just as fal.se for a Christian .to amass great wealtti at the exp~fi'se of.the personal well-being of others, as it would for a~ Christian to be very frugal in matters of material possessi6ns .while~.sa(rificing the, sensibil

The Mercury November, 1909 HELP THOSE WHO HELP US. The Intercollegiate Bureau of Academic Costume. Cotrell & Leonard, ALBANY, N. Y. Mak^« °f CAPS AND GOWNS To Gettysburg College, Lafayette, Lehigh, Dickinson, State College, Univ. of PeMi -ylvania, Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Wellesley, Bryn Mawr and the others. Class Contracts a Specialty. Correct Hoods of Degrees To The Class of '10. We have begun our college campaign for next Spring and Summer. Over 25,000 employers look to Hapgoods for their men in sales, offices and technical positions in all departments. Most of these Arms use college men. They arrange with us to cover the en ire college world for them. We have a unique preposition of in mediate interest to any college man who will be open for a propo-sition. Let us tell you about it. Write to-day. TXL _,_^ _j c^ 17^ ,-~ " TIM JVJtTJOJVJJ, ORGJJYMZJITtOJV Of HfipGrOQEltB, BMUMM- BUOHMUBS. Commonwealth Trust Building, Philadelphia, Pa. HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Headquarters for BANQUETS. Electric Lights, Steam Heat, All Conveniences. Free Bus to and from station. Convenient for Commencement Visitors. RATES $2.00 PER DAY. -/i/very G-ttaartea. B. B. Cqwoll, Proprietor. All our drugs aud chemicals are sold to you under a positive guarantee, pure and full strength. H. C. LANDAU, DRUGGIST. EVERYTHING A FIRST CLASS Drug Store should have Opposite Eagle Hotel. lfm0Vmmt*f^mt^mftlwt^n GETTYSBURG COLLEGE Gettysburg, Pa. - LIBRARY - I WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Established 18S7 by Allen Walton. ALLEN K. WALTON, Pres. and Treas. ROBT. J. WALTON, Supt. HUMMELSTOWN BROWN STONE COMPANY QUARRYMEN and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING and TILE. Waltonville, Duphin Co., Pa. CONTRACTORS FOR ALL KINDS OF CUT STONE WORK Telegraph and Express Address, Brownstone, Pa. Parties visiting quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. For Artistic Photographs —GO TO— TIPTON The Leader in PHOTO FASHIONS Frames and Passapartouts Made to Order. D. J. REILE, Clothing, Gent's Furnishings Sole Agent for the CRAWFORD SHOES, 13-15 Ohambersburg St. Come and Have a Good Shave or Hair Cut —AT— HARRY B. SEFTON'S BARBER SHOP 35 Baltimore St. Barber's Supplies a Specialty. Also choice line of Cigars. R. E. ZINN & BRO. DEALERS IN Groceries and Choice Provisions. Carlisle St., Gettysburg. THE GETTYSBURG DEPARTMENT STORE Successors to the L. M. Alleman Hardware Co., Manufacturer's Agent and Jobber of ' HARDWARE, OILS, PAINTS AND QUEENSWARE, GETTYSBURG, PA. The only Jobbing House in Adams County. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. * 2 a, ft ft * « « » » *w ft *« a * * «« ft * ft ft .-■> a» * « Seligniqq ARE GETTYSBURG'S MOST RELIABLE TAILORS And show their appreciation of your patronage by giving you full value for your money, and closest attention to the wants of every customer. Give Them a « »»« *««* » « ft Your Patronage * « *»« » a »« »a * » «» ft ** ft »« « « ft «««»« * « ft « e» ft « ** »« « «« «« « ft * » « ft »* PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. A Special Proposition Is open for the first person ID any com-munity who will deal with us for a Piano or Organ. WEAVER ORGANS AND PIANOS have no question mark to the quality. I IIII I .__ _ _ Z WEAVER ORGAN AND PIANO CO., MANUFACTURERS, I YORK, PA , U S A. MAIL THIS COUPON TO US. Send me special proposition for the purchase of a Piano. Name Address m * .-I-. •I" •■!•■ T\ •*■ ± Students' Headquarters —FOR— HATS, SHOES, AND GENT'S FURNISHINGS. Sole Agent for WALK -OVER SHOES ECKERT'S STORE. Prices Always Right He Lutheran PubliGatiori Society No. 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Colleges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY 8. BONER, Supt. THE [UIERCORV The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College. VOL. XVII GETTYSBURG, PA., NOVEMBER, 1909 No. 6 CONTENTS. THE WBONG OP WASTE 2 DAVID M. CRIST, '10. FEESCOING A LOST ART 3 ELMER STOUFFER, '11. A HALLOWE'EN STOEY 7 SAMUEL BOWER, '10. THE VOTEE'S DOMINANT PBINCIPLES: WHAT THEY SHOULD BE 12 ROT V. DERR, '10. IS GEEMANY A MENACE TO THE WORLD'S PEACE? 15 C. M. ALLABACH, '11. A NAEEOW ESCAPE 16 R. L. MCNALLY, '13. THE "BACK HOME" BOY 20 EDWIN C. MORROW, '12. THE EVOLUTION OP THE BEAST 22 EDWARD N. FRYE, '10. THE SPIEIT OP THE PLACE 24 HARVEY S. HOSHOUR, '10. EDITORIALS '. 29 EXCHANGES 31 GETTYSBURG COLLEGE Gettysburg, Pa. | - LIBRARY - I THE MERCURY. THE WRONG OF WASTE. DAVID M. CRIST, '10. jO the contemplative mind one of the saddest things in the world is the waste that is going on, and has gone on ever since civilization dawned. Much of this waste is wretched, needless, wicked; it means human efforts thrown away; it is one form of homicide for it sacrifices life and the material that life thrives on, and thus it hampers progress. What does a grain of corn amount to? Nothing, we hear the wasteful man say. Yet the secretary of agriculture of Missouri computes that one grain on every ear of corn grown in his State alone would add one hundred thousand dollars to the wealth of the State each year. We have all been told what a large sum the saving of a few cents a day will amount to, if allowed to roll up for a period of years, yet we all go through life really unmindful of the possi-bilities there are in such little things. A Kansas statistician has recently figured that the men of that State are constantly wearing on their coat sleeves eighty thousand dollars worth of buttons which serve no earthly use. It is easy enough, of course, to over do economy and make it ridiculous, and it is often most difficult to say whether a given policy is wasteful or economical. In this country our railroads work their locomotives very hard, and wear them out in a few years, whereas in England locomotives are used very carefully, and are kept in service several times as long. The English blame our railroads for being wasteful in this, whereas our au-thorities hold that it is better to get the best wear out of any ma-chine in a reasonable time, and then scrap-heap it, and replace it with something newer and better. Large scale producers such as the Carnegie Steel Company of Pittsburg, have owed their success in no small degree to their lavish expenditures, or industrial experiments, and for the in-stallation of new machinery as soon as its superiority to that in use has been demonstrated. So ideas to what is waste will differ. Unquestionably we are wasting our coal, oil, natural gas, and THE MERCURY. 6 timber supplies in this country, but under the conditions it does not pay to husband these material resources. A few years ago the world became alarmed because its fuel supply seemed to be coming to an end. Now, we are harnessing the rivers, water-falls, and even the glaciers, and making them do much of the work that coal hitherto has done. There is no small doubt that before the coal supply is ex-hausted the world will be so completely electrified that the use of coal will have become obsolete. The waste of timber is more serious, and yet as lumber rises in price other materials will be developed to take its place, witness the present rapid introduc-tion of concrete for building purposes. This country would not be what it is if it had been developed UDcler such a saving policy as has necessarily dominated the rise of European nations, so it would be well for us to remember the words of Benjamin Franklin when he said: "What maintains one vice would bring up two children. Eemember many a little makes a nickle. and farther, beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a great ship." FRESCOING A LOST ART. ELMER STOUFFER, '11. EW people realize that the frescos which they see on the walls of buildings are the remnants of a once great art. An art which for the number of men who were engaged at it and scope of application never had an equal. The history of this great form of art is long and of itself interesting to read. It is not the purpose in this article to give the history beyond what is necessary to the illustration of the subject in hand. It shall be our purpose to discuss the art as we know it, and the methods of the frescoer of to-day. It is claimed by many that the art of frescoing was known to the ancient Egyptians, but this is doubtful. If they knew any-thing at all about it, it could not have been more than enough THE MERCURY. •to cover the walls of their houses with the crudest and coarsest kinds of earth colors mixed with water. True one can find buildings decorated in patterns which are supposed to be genu-ine reproductions of ideas found on the walls of Egyptian ruins, but the methods of getting these actual designs are never told. The whole is fanciful and not certain enough to receive much consideration. The Greeks were familiar with the art of fres-coing but the extent to which they developed the art is uncer-tain. The excavations of Schlieman have brought forth some old decorated pieces of walls which were thought to be frescoes, but careful examination has shown them to be mere earth colors applied in various designs. The Hebrews it is certain knew nothing of frescoing. It was not until the beginning of the Christian era that the art rose to its fullest development. The Christian artist wanted an art which would properly express the emotions. The stirring scenes of the early Christian times were the subjects for the •church decorator to work upon. The art which he would use must be able to express faith, hope, joy, sorrow, grief, pain and things of that nature. Sculpture, the art of the Greeks, would not answer his purpose for that is essentially an art of repose. Frescoing seemed the only one capable of answering his purposes so he employed it. Even then the early decorator was held in check by ecclesiastical interference. In decorating the churches he was not permitted, even though he had the impulse, to use any type not traditional. For this reason we find nearly all the fres-coes of this period consist of the gaunt, pinched bodies of an-chorites and saints. In the sixteenth century this art reached its highest state of development. In this period some of the world's most famous frescoers lived, and some of the most noted frescoers were executed. Several of the works produced in this period are extant to this day. The wave of Iconoclast fanaticism which swept over Europe in the sixteenth century struck the art a blow from which it has never wholly recovered. In England nearly all the paintings were destroyed. In some churches they were merely defaced, hut in those churches where the frescoes could not be destroyed without permanently injuring the buildings, the despoilers cov- THE MERCURY. «red them up with lime. On the continent of Europe the hatred was not so intense, and it is doubtful whether any works of real value were destroyed. It is true, however, that when the Icono-clastic wave had swept away, the art was practically dead. In America very little is known about frescoing. Our near-est approach to it are the distemper paintings with which we decorate our theatres and churches. Several reasons might be mentioned for this, but the most reasonable seems to be that Americans are too impatient to apply themselves to a trade in which the first and chief requisite is painstaking precision. The Americans as a class are too much in a hurry to take the time which it is necessary to do a good work of frescoing. The aver-age American does not care what a piece of work costs but he invariably does want his work done at once. So little interest is taken in the art in America that not one color manufacturer is to be found who so much as manufacture the kind of color which mural decorators use. The American decorator must depend upon the shops of Germany for the colors which he uses. German workshops also supply America with her supply of deco-rators. Frescoing as clone in former times required a great deal more skill than it does to-day. The work was all done while the plaster was still soft. The decorator decided in the morning just about how much surface he wished to cover that day. The plasterer, who worked right with him, then finished that much. With a sharp pointed awl or some other instrument the deco-rator then marked the design in the plaster, and proceeded to his task. Sometimes a small design of the work in hand was made and kept lying by to refer to in case the decorator became puz-zled as to how to proceed. The necessity of this can readily be seen when one remembers that some of the great works of this kind were fifteen and sometimes twenty years in the accomplish-ment. If all which was marked could not be done in the day the plasterer cut the unfinished portion off and they began all over again. An almost perfect knowledge of pigments was ab-solutely essential to the decorator of the old time. Lime in dry-ing causes many colors to fade and some to become darker. It was necessary for the mechanic to know just what effect the lime tf**ftiufvrxv GETTYSBURG COLLEGE * Gettysburg, Pa. LIBRARY 10 THE MEBCURY. "An unlucky spot," sighed Proud Patrick. "He ain't the first, nor thirteenth to be tuk tar." Hattie came running in with the holy water bottle and Mis-tress Proud Patrick eagerly bathed poor Oiney's head. As the cold drops fell showering upon his face Oiney winced in spite of himself. "The color is comin' to his cheeks," said Hattie as she knelt over him solicitously. "The fire is warmin' him. He's comin' roun' all right." "God be thanked for holy water bottle said Mrs. Proud Pat-rick. "Let's raise him up a bit," said Del. "An' a drop of nice warm sweet milk with a pinch o' ginger and sugar might do the poor fello' good," said Hattie. "Bether couldn't be," said Del. "An' a bowl o' tea," added Chris. "An' a drop o' spirits," said Joe. At this insinuation a perceptible glow over-spread the features of the unconscious one and to the delight of Del and eve^one there, a sigh escaped his lips. "God be thanked," said Hattie. Del bent over his patient and softly whispered, "Oiney." Oiney slowly opened his eyes and looked wonderingly and in-quiringly about him. "Del—is—is—thet—you ?" "Yis, yis, me darlint." "Del—where an' where can I be?" "Make yer min' aisy, ye are in a dacent house an' with dacent folks. Mister Proud Patrick and Mistress and Hattie McPher-son. Del then asked for a drop of whiskey and tried to persuade Oiney to take it but he refused. "Just a drop," said Del. "Only a toothful," said Mrs. Proud Patrick," and take it as medicine. It'll send the blood through yer veins." But Oiney looked gratefully at Mrs. Proud Patrick and ten-derly at Hattie, but still refused to touch the whiskey. The patient grew rapidly stronger on the beef tea which was THE MEKCURY. 11 tendered by loving hands and thanked the whole family for the trouble they had gone to in his behalf. "But ah, ye knows I can't be kapin' ye dacent folk out o' bed all night—it's almost mornin' now." "Oh, that's all right," volunteered Hattie. "It's no bother an' as to me uncle an' aunt, there, they can go to bed any time now seein' ye are on the fair way to mendin' yerself; an' me an' Eosie-an' Matthew 'ill tarry a while an' git ye somethin' to eat." "Uncle," she continued, "you an' me aunt can now take yer-selves off to bed seein' poor ill Oiney here is gettin' along bet-ter. Myself an' Eosie an' Matthew 'ill take care of him jes as good as if you was here." So with more thanks Oiney bade them good night and wished them a sound sleep and pleasant dreams, and assured them he would never forget their timely generosity. Then Hattie warmed some sweet milk and supported Oiney while he drank it. He was soon sufficiently strengthened to make his way to the fireside with the help of Hattie and Eosie, where he and Hattie sat down together. Oh, I'm ever so glad you're comin' roun' so fast," Said Hattie. "Faith an' I know the doctor I'm thankin' for the same," re-plied Oiney, his eyes beaming upon her. "Och, don't bother me Oiney, it's a poet you should a' been born—you've a tongue as sweet as any poet's." "Well, it's no poet you should a' been born, darlin' but in the Garden of Aiden." "Array, go way with ye." "Yis. in the Garden of Aiden, when man was alone an' com-fortless." "But the Bible never mentioned Adam takin' 'fever gortach," and Oiney reflected. "Oh, Adam would a' got it some how if he had a thot that it would a brot you in its wake." "Houl on Oiney. Take yer arm away out o' that. Take it away. Tre' ain't no danger o' my takin' waikness—no fear of it." "An' thr' all blamin' poor Adam 'cause he ate the apple"— went on Oiney, philosophical!}', gazing into the fire, still keeping ^■^■i^^n^^^^^^^^^^^H 12 THE MERCURY. his arm across her as if absentmindedly. "I know well if I was Adam an' some people I know was Eve, an' that if this partick-ler Eve offered me the same size o' rat pizen and sayed, Here Adam, my sweet, take this, its good, I'd swallowed it an' swared it was honey." "My, what a nice fellow you'd make for the lucky woman that gits ye," said Hattic. "But will ye take away yerself an' take yer arm out o' thet." "Oh," said Oiney in surprise. "Is that where my arm is?" Yet absentmindedly he went on philosophizing upon man's lonely lot had not God given him lovely woman to be a joy and a blessing forever. Del whiled away the early morning hours for Eosie, the maid, and poor Chris and Joe Eegan smoked their pieces of pipe. When the gray dawn began to filter through the blackness of the night, Hattie and Eosie who now had to begin their day's work, bade their sweethearts a merry good-bye after promising to meet them on Sunday evening at the Crooked Bridge. THE VOTER'S DOMINANT PRINCIPLES SHOULD BE. WHAT THEY ROY V. DERR, '10. .NDIVIDUAL right of franchise is the heart of a demo-cratic government. The stability and perpetuity of a nation such as ours depend upon the righteous use of the ballot-box j while corruption and dissolution are the fruit of its abuse. The right to vote becomes a cherished privi-lege by the young man as he approaches twenty-one. At this point a searching question confronts him. Will he be influenced by seductive tradition and paternal inheritance? Will he con-tinue to cast his vote as father always did? Or will he permit his privilege to be directed by certain guiding principles? This is the vital question. When one thinks of the untutored multi-tudes who become the prey of scheming politicians, it becomes an THE MERCURY. 13 important question. But what should these dominant motives, of action be? If our voter is a man of any education or good judgment, he will seek to have a general knowledge of the country's condition and needs. He aims to know the issues at stake, and the plat-form of his chosen party with regard to them. Why ? That he may decide whether the candidate in question is fully qualified for the position. In other words he will endeavor to vote intel-ligently. Not merely boasting a long ancestry who were stal-wart Democrats or life-long Eepublicans. Very often such a spirit is but ignorant pride and betrays the lack of intelligence and reason. The voter should not only be able to state his party,, but also to tell why it is his preference. But the careful voter will not stop with an investigation into the ability of the candidate to fill the duties of office. He goes further and deeper. He will seek to know the aspiring office seeker as a man. What is his character? A man of self-con-trol and integrity ? Will he prove faithful to the trust ? These questions must be answered affirmatively by the conscientious voter. Strict sense of civic duty demands nothing less. The loyal citizen will not cast his vote for incompetent or unworthy men out of mere favor or friendly acquaintance. To do so weak-ens the dictates of his moral conscience. The highest motives should control our franchise; the prosperity of the State, the-welfare of the community, and the best interests' of all concerned. This is true loyalty and genuine patriotism. Above all, for the thoughtful man the dominant principle will be party subordinate to the man. Some one may ask would not such universal independent voting destroy political parties? They are essential to counter-balance one another in government. In answer the true voter will use his influence in securing the best men on the party ticket of his preference, if for some reason these are not chosen, but undesirable nominees instead, the strict sense of civic duty will compel him to refuse to vote for those men. Partisanship must bow before right and duty. Prejudice and tradition must yield to justice and intelligence. It is bet-ter to cut one's ticket and prove traitor to one's party than to iise one's franchise in voting for incompetent or unworthy men. Then he will have nothing to regret. L GETTYSBURG COLLEGEI Gettysburg, Pa. LIBRARY ^^^■^^^^B^^^H 14 THE MERCURY. Who is to blame for corruption in politics? For partisan legislation and bad government? Those holding office we say. But our nation is a democracy! We boast of the rule of the-people! The boomerang springs back upon the voter himself. Corrupt legislation reflects itself upon the public at large. If office holders prove unloyal to their country's trust, it shows that the voters were not careful enough to elect the best men. This situation is but a practical application of the fable in which the indulgent master gives shelter, under his tent, to the imploring ass who in turn ungratefully kicks him out! What, then, should be the voter's dominant principles? To serve his country and State, not only party and self. To know the needs and conditions of his nation or community. To elect the man best fitted to fill the position, that is the man of capabil-ity and character. The former involves the ability to discharge his duties well and efficiently. The latter includes those quali-ties of honesty and integrity as will enable the office holder to stand fearlessly against bribery, partiality or injustice. Such is the type of man whom the true voter will strive to elect. So long as the right of franchise is jealously guarded and highly prized, there will be no need to fear the downfall of our repub-lic. But she shall ascend higher as a moving power in the eyes of the civilized world. Her destiny will not approach soon, but with the oncoming years, she shall exert an untold influence-among the nations of the world. THE MERCURY. 15 IS GERMANY A MENACE TO THE WORLD'S PEACE ? C. M. ALLABACH, '11. T can hardly be denied by those who have noticed the trend of international politics that Germany is the greatest obstacle to the world's peace to-day. This has become strikingly evident in recent years. Diplomatic relations between the English and Germans have been strained for more than a decade. The famous Kruger tele-gram of 1896, the intense commercial rivalry, the hostile attitude of the German people during the Boer War, the biting criticism of the press, and finally, the manifest intention of Germany to wrest from Great Britain her maritime supremacy, have all com-bined to make the situation critical. To England, this mari-time supremacy is a matter of life and death; to Germany, it is an object of mere desire or ambition. Examples of German aggressiveness are numerous. The first American experience of it was in the Samoan Islands in 1888, and a second in 1898, when Germany sent a powerful fleet to the Philippine Islands. Japan felt it in 1895 when Germany joined Russia and France in forcing her to recede from the Liao-Tung Peninsula which bore no small weight in furthering and hasten-ing the outbreak of the Russo-Japanese War. All Europe and America was unfavorably impressed by the attitude of the Ger-mans in the Boxer uprising. Then, too, it is generally known that Germany took the initiative in the Venezuelan blockade in 1M2, and since the power of Russia has been considerably les-sened by the Russo-Japanese War, the Germans appear to be even more aggressive than before. These actions truly speak louder than words, but the words are not lacking either. The German Kaiser's speeches are teeming with expressions which clearly reveal the German attitude. Among many others he said at Cologne in 1897: "We have great duties in the world. There are Germans everywhere whom we must protect. German prestige must be preserved abroad. The trident belongs in our hands." In 1900, upon delegating to Prince Henry the command of the Oriental fleet, he said: "Im-perial power is sea power. The two are mutually dependent. 16 THE MERCURY. Should anyone infringe our rights, then use the mailed fist and earn your laurel wreath." To departing soldiers he used such terms as these: "Spare nobody." "Take no prisoners." "Give no quarter." Such expressions are not the mere workings of an individual's maind, but are the sentiments of a nation expressed through its chief executive. It is true, too, that Germany is the greatest obstacle to the policy of limitation of armaments and obligatory arbitration. It was with great difficulty that the German government was per-suaded to consent to the establishment of the permanent Court of Arbitration. She opposed nearly every policy advocated by England. She held strict views of belligerant rights and voted against every specific proposal of obligatory arbitration. The Germans have rejected the advances since made by the English to enter upon an Anglo-German understanding concern-ing the cost and extent of their naval programs, claiming that no formal proposal has been made and therefore no official transac-tions have followed. Since Germany was not in harmony with the proposals of the Hague Conference, there seems to be but one remedy to check the steadily growing martial spirit of the sturdy Germans, namely, an alliance between the two greatest branches of the Anglo-Saxon race, England and America. Unless some such alliance is formed, the law of "the survival of the fittest" will be the outcome; of which the fittest is the strongest, the best or-ganized, and the most unscrupulous. A NARROW ESCAPE. R. L. MCNALLY, '13. JHNEAKEY was feeling blue that night as we sat together in the lobby of The Eoyal. He awaiting the arrival of a certain well-padded person, whom he pleased to call his victim,—and very impressibly informed me would be his last one,—while I was trying to pass away the night of idleness. Sneakey started to tell me all about his intended re- THE MERCURY. 17 form, and was in the midst of a "profound resolve" with his fist in the air intending to bring it down on the handle of my chair, when the arrival of a ponderous white steam car arrested his at-tention and without a sign or signal he arose from where he sat walked over to the door where the fat and hearty autoist would have to enter. Only once did he glance back at me, and then very quickly. I thought 1 noticed a shade of distress in that glance, but dismissed the thought of the fact that Sneakey, above all, would ever shrink from a job. Sneakey followed this particular individual over to the desk and watched him register, lighting a cigarette in a cool and un-interested fashion, but carefully noticing in his mind the rooms to be occupied by this person. He didn't return to where I was sitting, a very wise thing on his part, but strolled over to the bil-liard room, where fifteen minutes later, I found him actively en-gaged in a game with a stately looking, shifting-eyed sport. I walked on through and out on the street, took a car, and was soon in my room snugly seated in my large chair, planning, and thinking I had spotted a large elegantly finished mansion across the park, occupied solely by an old gentleman of eccentric habits. his brother, two house maids, and a general utility man. Next morning after breakfast I strolled across the park to in-vestigate my intended loot and map out a course that would be sure to bring me safely to my goal. I bought a paper afterwards and nothing could be printed clearer, nor more prominent to me than the little three-lined announcement that Sneakey, the one and only friend I had to depend upon, had been intercepted in an attempt to enter the rooms of a wealthy guest and was being held for trial. Of all the news, this was the most distressing. But what could I do but accept it as a present from our dreaded enemies, the plain clothes men. I did not know what to do for tools, and to attempt such a task alone would be almost fool-hardy, and Sneakey's presence was an excellent solution to both of these quanderies. But, since he was taken into the strong arms of the police, I could do nothing else than depend on luck. It was now 10.30 A. M., and I thought I might run across an old acquaintance, but there was none I could think of, let alone trust as an accomplice. After dinner I made a list of what I t^^^m^^^m 18 THE MERCURY. was in need of and among the things I needed most was a pair of wire nippers in case I would need them. Now I knew that Sneakey had a pair so I walked over to his room, having to pass the seat of my night's work, and picked the lock. Hanging across the back of a chair was a coat made up with the lining of a smoking jacket. I quickly realized its value and took it over to a tailor's and ordered it pressed, and put into proper shape. In the pocket of this coat I found a cigar which I took as a charm for my safety because I found it in the pocket of the most valuable tool I could have possibly came across. Placing the cigar carefully in my pocket the next thing to do was to get a mate at all hazzards. Scotty kept a rather notable pool room where I had been in the habit of spending some time and where I knew I could find a collection of choicest men of my profession. On entering I could hardly believe myself when who should step up and shake my hand but Harry Musser. I hadn't seen him for years, and why, I'm sure, is not because he had fallen into the same ill luck as Sneakey. I told him all of my plans and asked him to go along and help "cinch it," but woe for my hopes; he had a job on hand at White Flains, and was leaving that night on the 11.30 boat to ge to White Plains about 2 A. M., and be safe from all view to carry out his aim. Well, this was the last hope, and I decided to go alone. I saw Harry off and returning to my room put on the coat nicely tailored, and walked across the park and on around to the rear entrance of this house. Just as I entered the hedge I heard West Hall Hedge clock strike one. Walking up to the porch I started operations by climbing the vine, since I had to dispense with Sneakey's excellent tact of pitching a rope ladder. Gaining the level of the window sill I swung across and caught hold of the sill and hung suspended until I could grasp the shutter and pull myself up so that I could place my foot against the opposite side of the window frame and gradually work myself up inch by inch until I was standing on the sill holding on to the shutters. I was starting to work on the win-dow when I heard somebody walking on the pavement. When he got opposite the place where I was he stopped, lit a cigar and gazing aimlessly about, turned his steps and walked up the gravel walk and sat down on the porch almost under me and smoked. THE MERCURY. 19 After about fifteen minutes I did not see or hear him stir, and concluded he was asleep. Much was my chagrin when I found the window pulled up tight against the upper frame. To get in was almost impossible, and to get back to where I came from, was impossible. I had to decide some way. I knew that it would be safer to get out through the house than to get past that night watchman below, so taking a small finger-nail clip from my pocket, I dig two crescent shaped holes in the window frame, and placing my fingers in them bent all my effort toward pulling it down. It yielded, and carefully lowering it, I climbed in, down on the floor and I thought noislessly over to view my room in general, when all of a sudden, the lights were turned on brightly and a small buz sounded on the wall which I knew was a signal. Then locating the door, I made for it, but was barred by a huge porpous of a man whom I concluded was the butler. I had to pass him to liberty, and being much smaller, knew a struggle would be useless. I waited until he charged, then side-stepping I gave him a lucky stroke in the stomach. He wasn't long in the fight. Throwing my hat in a corner, I ran my fingers through my hair, put the coat inside out, the cigar in my mouth, ran down to the front door, to escape, preparing lest the police should arrive before I got away. Two officers were coming down the pavement at a good speed. I did not know what to do in so-tight a place. I decided to use strategy, so assuming a horrified expression, I called to them that here was the place, and ex-plained that the old gentleman had became suddenly worse, and that I was sent by him to bring his son, who lived some distance-from the house. That story wasn't believed in full by them, and! they decided to go along with me to bring his son. The two fol-lowed me for a square, and then stopping, I reasoned that two of them should go back to the old man, and assist the butler in car-ing for him, while the other officer and I went for the son. To this they agreed, and we two sped, where, I did not know until, reaching into the pocket of this coat, my hand fell upon the wire nippers. I just happened to think of Sneakey. I knew he wouldn't be in his room so I made a short cut there and pound-ing on the door received no reply, until a doctor next door put his head outside the door and informed us that that gentleman mi^^^^^^^^^^^^mwg^^^^^^^^^^^^^m 20 THE MEECUET. had left yesterday morning and had not returned yet. Now I knew to go along back to the house would mean my arrest so I told the officer that he should go on back to assist the other officer and the butler, while I awaited until this doctor would dress and go along with me, that we would follow in a few moments. When the officer left, I feigning that I intended to wait, followed after him down to the street level and proceded over by a back street to my rooms. Next day I learned of Sneakey's sentence of two years and went around, packed up his furniture to store it. In the pro-cess of this packing I was assisted by this doctor who told me of the very strange call he had last night. THE "BACK HOME" BOY. EDWIK C. HOBBOW, '12. EE we, the great American people, interested in the farmer boy? "We are. Why should the attention of the richest, most commercial nation of the earth turn to the humble youth of sunburnt face and freckled nose "back home ?" There are several conspiring reasons which cause the lines of national interest to deflect from their normal course toward that obscure spot on the map where is growing to man-hood the average country boy. One of the first reasons, perhaps, is to be found in the fact that he is "the boy back home." Somebody has said, "God made the country, but man made the town." Well, what man made the town? It was the man from the country; and it is the man from the country who is making the town grow and prosper to-day. It is from the hay-field rather than from the gutter; from the garden rather than from the crowded quarters of the town, that men are being drafted to fight the great battle of the world's market place and public halls. The bulk of brains, the brawn, and the character of this country has come from the country; and from the country will come at least many of our big men of the succeeding gen-eration. THE MERCURY. 21 The country boy is running America to-day; his name is legion. Abraham Lincoln, the greatest monument in American history, has established a standard of idealism for all American frontier boys. President Eoosevelt was a western rancher. William Jennings Bryan, who, despite conflicting views and re-gardless of politics, is an international character, wears overalls on his Nebraska farm. Anthony Comstock, one of the greatest and best moral forces in America to-day, came from a New Eng-land farm. Homer Davenport, one of the best known political cartoonists in the country, grew up on a far western farm. And so the list may continue down along the directory of the "Who is Who"—including United States senators, merchant princes, economic, scientific and philosophic authorities; light of the bar and pulpit; writers, artists and musicians; there is no seat of the mighty where the farmer boy has not sat. If there is anybody in this whole country of ours who is a free citizen, it is the country boy. He is as free as everything about him,—the air, the sunshine, the birds, the snow. Out here in God's own country, a boy can not help growing to manhood brave and strong and clear-minded. Simple taste, simple appe-tites, a simple home, these are a wholesome curriculum for a boy's individual education. Plain food, regular hours, and plenty of healthful exercise,—these create a strong body, the only fit setting for a strong mind. The farmer boy grows up away from the atmosphere of riotous vice. He is not bred in the shadow of corporate domination and "higher ups;" he recognizes no "higher up" in this world than his Father. He is imbued with the faith that a man who dares can, and that a man who can should. He has confidence in himself, and belief in his future. That is what we by times call by one of several names: Energy, backbone, enterprise, jasm, initiative, perseverance, grit, gump-. tion. Whatever it is, it is a winnig quality,—it is power. The thoughtful men are realizing this to-day as they never-did before. Employers know it and want young men from the country; educators feel it and rejoice over the country bred scholar. The voter knows it; and the politician knows that he knows it, with the result that we get in office to-day some honest and fearless men, who stand for the best in American polities,, though tied until almost powerless. 22 THE MERCURY. It is no disgrace to have come from the country, and the boy from the country need not be afraid to apply for a job. His record is good, and nothing need stand between him and success. THE EVOLUTION OF THE BEAST. EDWARD N. FRYE, '10. |OWJST from the mountains came two beasts into a plain upon which grew a few blades of grass; they stood facing each other with snarls. Finally the battle be-gan to rage as to which should get those few blades. It became a life and death struggle, and the turmoil was great. It was a case of the survival of the fittest. The strong one con-quered and the grass was his. The other lay in the dust and gore with his life slowly ebbing away. Thus as I look out over this great country and see the strug-gle of man for life, for liberty and for progress, and then think that he is called beast and materialist, I am reminded of the story of the beasts. The charge is not wholly untrue. Man is a materialist, but a materialist by necessity, a materialist because he is a creature of society and society is warring to keep him bound. His materialism is a bread and butter problem. His materialisms are the necessities of life, nourishment of the body and a life with its comforts. The problem is how shall he pro-cure those necessities upon which his life depends, and how can he add to his daily life those comforts. These are the foremost thoughts in his mind. His hunger must be satisfied and his body clothed, likewise he must care for his wife and his children. Of course he is a materialist and what else could he be. What would give him existence? Surely not spiritualism. The life of man is made up of more or less materialistic wants. And he has been called a materialist because he is forced to center all thought on these wants. He has been called a materialist be-cause he is demanding that which by right is his and which so-ciety will not grant. He has been called a materialist because the other big beast, capitalism, is contending with him for the THE MERCURY. 23 last blade of grass. He is being driven to the very brink of de-spair with only one thought: "How can I live," and with one problem to solve: "How can I procure bread and butter." He is forced further and further to the point of starvation and still that mighty hand reaches out to grasp more from his little to swell its fortune or fill its coffers. Thus the working man is forced to lift up his voice and cry for his rights when the Ameri-can aristocracy consider him nothing more than a machine to further their interests. Whentheworkingman is reduced to a thing he becomes a materialist by necessity. He cannot lie back on the oars and pray that the Almighty God may give him bread, for then he would starve. He is therefore compelled to concentrate his energy, to rise up against such conditions and let his voice be, heard in order that he may receive that which by divine right is his. Then only when he receives that right can he turn his at-tention to the other phase of life, the spiritual side. To bring this about there must be an evolution of social condi-tions, not a revolution as the one who stands without the turmoil describes. The working man must rise up out of his present condition and let it be known that he is not a mere beast for the purpose of serving capitalistic interests and when of no more use to be turned off to starve or to be an object of charity. The capitalist, who is the real materialist, and in a sense a pragma-tist, must realize that the so-called brute is his social brother, born with all the privileges of a human being and with a soul that is equally precious in the sight of God. The capitalist must recognize that life is not a mere dream for the other fellow, but that it is a reality demanding a certain share of this world's goods to make it a joy and to prepare that soul for its rightful inheritance. This will take place when he ceases to say of his social brother: "Beast, beast," and in turn shows him his love. If the capitalist would change his perspective what a change would surely be in human affairs and in human lives. How much strife would be eliminated and how much deeper would be the spiritual life. Then man could think more seriously of things that are spiritual. The stomach of the working man would be filled and his physical wants attended to. You must satisfy those physical wants before you can hope to have him seek the wants of the soul or to develop him spiritually. 24 THE MERCURY. THE SPIRIT OF THE PLACE. HARVEY S. HOSHOUR, '10. S the autumn twilight closed in upon the old Thomaaton campus, so fraught with traditions and memories of a century's existence, there seemed to be an element of discontent, quite foreign to the place indeed, which per-meated everyone. Grant Hilsey, if the conversations which were conducted in low tones throughout the quadrangle were correct, the cause of all this discord, was throwing off his football togs in a room luxuriously furnished in every appointment. He then took a quick shower and dressed thoughtfully. Yes he was right. Something would happen tonight. Something must happen. What should he do ? Should he go to the mass-meeting or stay in his room? What was best for the college? All these ques-tions played havoc in Hilsey's mind while he was dressing and while he ate a late supper at the training table: The old chapel on the hill was that night the scene of the largest mass meeting Thomaston had ever known. Tomorrow-was the day for the "big" game with Greenvale, and the slogan of the meeting was, "Thomaston expects every man to do his duty." After speeches short and to the point by various mem-bers of the faculty, the 'Varsity men were called for one by one, and responded with short talks, promising their best efforts on the morrow. "What's the matter with Captain Hilsey?" shouted the cheer leader. The answer was an irresolute, "He's all right," amid a hubbub of hisses and jeers. The cheer leader looked aghast. "Let's see him. We want Hilsey," clamored the crowd, seem-ingly ashamed of its first action. Every one turned to the rear whence they expected Hilsey to come but there was no answer. Hilsey was not there. The captain had come into the meeting late and had sat in the rear, listening to his men as they spoke. He, too, would do his best to win. How could he lose, leading men with such spirit? Then came the jeers. He had known they must come, but he could not check the hot tears that kept swelling to his eyes. There was still one chance. He was in the rear seat and had not THE MERCURY. 25 been noticed in the excitement of the evening. H suited his ac-tion to the thought, and when the crowd turned to look for him, he had gone forth, unseen and alone. The leader shook his megaphone for silence and said in a voice that quivered just a bit, for he was a friend of the captain, "Pel-lows, tonight we have insulted one of the best captains Thomas-ton has ever known. He has picked the team with the best in-terests of the college at heart, regardless of what his enemies may say. For four years we have seen Grant Hilsey fighting for Thomaston honor. Where is the man who ever saw him betray the college. We have elected him captain, and upon him our hopes of beating Greenvale depend, and yet we hear criticisms, "improvements," and even jeers on the eve of our gratest game. It's mighty fortunate he isn't here to see this, for you know the Hilsey pride and its hard to tell what any one of us wouldn't do under his circumstances. Now fellows, lets make it so he can hear it. "What's the matter with Hilsey?" "He's all right," came back witht the roar of thunder. The dissatisfaction over the picking of the team and the captain himself seemed to be go-ing fast. "Who's all right?" Hilsey," re-echoed the crowd. "We want Hilsey," they yelled, but none appeared. The leader again motioned for silence. "Boys," he said, "one more rick-etyax for Captain Hilsey." The yell was given with a lust. All feeling was gone now in the spirit of the place which gripped every man in a way which was irresistible. With a "last long ray for the 'Varsity," the most successful mass meeting Thomas-ton had ever seen was over. When Grant Hilsey emerged from the building all seemed a confused mass. He had been publicly insulted and even jeered at. Last year, after the season which had ended by "sweeping Greenvale off the face of the earth," as the Thomastonian had it, he had been the hero of the college. He had made the run that had won for his Alma Mater, and it was quite natural that Hil-sey should be elected captain of next year's eleven. The election had been unanimous. He had come back this fall eager to pro-duce another victorious team, but the material was new and hard to get into shape. He had done his best, fairly and squarely, with the result that his associates characterized him as a deserter, for he had not chosen the, team entirely from his own "clique." 26 THE MERCURY. He was too fair for that. He was also criticized by that class of students—all too common everywhere—whose chief concern it is to kick, who are too good for everybody, yet whom nobody wants, and who still, somehow or other, exercise an influence,—probably only due to their persistency,—on every college community. The result was that Hilsey had become the most unpopular man in the college. As he walked through the campus he had grown to love, his mind was crowded to overflowing. What should he do? The Hilsey pride asserted itself. He would show them. No Hilsey could be played with in this manner. They had said that his team was "crooked." Let them improve on it. They would see that they couldn't do without Grant Hil-sey. Eevenge would be his and sweet would be his revenge. Instead of going to his room Hilsey went across the campus to his fraternity house. It too was deserted. He would send for his trunk after the game. As he sat musing on the porch the old walls loomed up before him. How he longed to graduate. But he was a Hilsey and a Hilsey never gave in. What did he care for the place anyhow? There were surely others just as good. The night train for Watauga was almost empty that night. All traffic was turned toward Thomaston for the morrow's big game. It was too late for Hilsey to go home when the train got in, so he resolved to stop at the hotel till the next day. Through-out the night and the morning his mind was in one vast whirl. He would wait till evening before going home. He remembered that all his people were at Thomaston to see the game. Some-how or other he felt that he was shirking something. Maybe he ought to go back to Thomaston even though his fellows had de-serted him. What did these unworthy sons have to do with old Thomaston anyhow ? He remembered a little essay of his on college spirit, on which he had been complimented highly. He was a Freshman then. He remembered the past three years, their ups and downs, their fortunes and misfortunes. Yes, they were happy years, all too happy but they were gone for good now. The Hilsey pride had shown itself. But that essay on college spirit kept forcing itself into his mind. That was theory he knew, rather sentimental at that. Was there such a thing at Thomaston as real live college THE MERCUKY. 27 spirit? He had done his best but did he have the spirit which could endure all for the sake of the college. Anything but gibes, he thought. But what else had he endured. He had failed at the first trial. He was a failure, a quitter, and Thomaston had expected every man to do his duty. Again the college walls loomed up in his mind. Yes, he loved them, he loved their •every stone, he loved their traditions and their lore. He looked at his watch. Could he make it? The Thomaston spirit asserted itself. He signalled a passing car, which he recognized as one of his father's. "Fast as you can to Thomaston," were his orders. It was a long ride but never for an instant did Hilsey's intentions change. There was such a thing as college spirit, Thomaston spirit. He was completely in its spell. As the car neared the campus he heard the cheer leader call, "Now then Thomaston." It thrilled his very heart. That was Thomaston, his Thomaston. "To my room," he fairly yelled to the chauffeur. The campus was de-serted. Over the green hedge which surrounded the athletic field, he could see a mass of crimson and gold. That meant Thomaston, the Thomaston he longed to fight for. It was the work of a few minutes to jump into his togs. Never was he so proud of the hugh "T" on his sweater. To think that he was so near forfeiting the privilege of wearing it. As he neared the field he heard a count—one-two-three—and then a long drawn out —nothing, all from the opposing side. His heart gave a throb. There was a chance yet. He flung off his sweater. He would show them that the Hil-sey pride was swallowed up in his college spirit. A great shout arose as the wearers of the crimson and gold saw Hilsey. They forgot enmities. He, their only hope, had come back to make them win. His judgment had been vindicated for his team had played wonderfully, and, but for a beautiful kick would have held Greenvale to no score. "Ten minutes to play," announced the time-keeper as Hilsey took his place at quarter. The team had been holding well be-fore. Now with a leader they played an aggressive game. Slowly they marched up the gridiron. Once they lost the ball, only to regain it on downs. Thomaston enthusiasm knew no bounds. There were no spectacular runs, ten yards being the greatest 28 THE MERCURY. single gain. With one minute to play a touch-down was made and the goal kicked. "What's the matter with Hilsey?" again shouted the leader. Never was such a yell heard as when they cried, "He's all right." The game was over. Again the colors of Thomaston flew high. Hilsey was late for supper again that evening. The sun was setting beyond the chapel hill with a blaze of crimson and gold, which seemed to him to be in honor of Thomaston's victory, his victory. The old chapel looked dearer than ever. In a few short months he would receive his diploma there. "It's the spirit of the place," he murmured as a crowd of students came down the street, wood in one hand and oil cans in the other. "There he is now. We want Hilsey," they cried." Yes," he muttered, as he was being hoisted upon the shoulders of his ad-miring fellows, "its the spirit of the place, the college spirit, the Thomaston spirit." I H E HE RCU RV Entered at the Postoffi.ee at Gettysburg as second-class Matter. VOL. XVII GETTYSBURG, PA., NOVEMBER, 1909 No. 6 Editor in-Chief SAMUEL FAUSOLD, 'IO. Exchange Editor G. E. BOWERSOX, 'io Business Manager PAUL S. MILLER, 'IO Ass't Bus. Managers C. M. ALLABACH,'ii S. T. BAKER, 'II Assistant Editor RALPH E. RUDISILL, 'IO Associate Editors E. J. BOWMAN, 'II C. M. DAVIS, 'II Advisory Board PROF. G. F. SANDERS, A. M. PROF. P. M. BIKLE, FH. D. PROF. C. J. GRIMM, PH. D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary Societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance ; single copies IS cents. Notice to discontinue sending THE MERCURY to any address must be ac-companied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. fore, his duty to cultivate it. THE CONYERSA- What a world TIONALIST. of meaning this word contains! What a flood of memories it brings to us! Un-consciously there leaps to the im-agination the pictures of talkers who have given us many a pleas-ant hour. The human voice is probably man's greatest gift. It is his dis-tinguishing feature. It is, there- Indeed this should be his ambi- ^■■■^^^■H 30 THE MEECUEY. tion: to be affable, clear, optimistic and pleasant; to develop a ready wit and the happy accomplishment of speaking the right word at the right time. Indeed to keep silent always is as great a fault as constant babbling. Franklin expressed the idea as follows: "As we must account for every idle word, so we must for every idle silence. Conversation is not a wooden thing; it is elastic, happy and free; it runs, hops and skips. Indeed man's greatest asset is speech and harmonious conversation between two or more should be made the supreme pleasure of life. Conversation costs us nothing in dollars and cents; it com-pletes our education; discovers friends for us and can be enjoyed at all times and in all places. Although conversation is common to all ages, we believe the golden age of youth makes most of it. The young man or woman—particularly the college man or woman—uses the gift of speech to give expression to the bright-est hopes for the future. The collegian, in fact, lives in the fuT ture and oh! what a loss it would be to him to be deprived of the pleasure of building castles in the air. Talk is the great instrument of friendship. By it as Steven-son says, "Men and women contend for each other in the lists of love like rival mesmerists. By it friends can measure strength and enjoy that amicable counter-assertion of personality which is the gauge of relations and the sport of life." Conversation generally drifts to the two great subjects, "You and I." Of course the third party may be given passing consid-eration but vain humanity can not long escape the subjective. This fact is quite noticeable in the chat of two college chums. It invariably has to with the welfare of the speakers directly or in-directly. This being the case the conversationalist should be careful to clothe his old subjects in new garments and to bring them forth from the mint, as it were, with new and ever delight-ful aspects. Yes, let us continue to talk! Let us enjoy our talks, but let us seek to find more and more ways to benefit from them. THE American business world is a rapidly flowing river. To get into this rapidly moving stream, man must hustle and not be slothful. The competitions of modern life have become so keen THE MERCURY. 31 that there are no opportunities for the lazy. Man must either work or go to the wall. In every community this fact is under-stood but too often not believed. Should not these student days be hours of industry and benefit ? Many a night is spent in folly and the following day suffers. The only real and lasting enjoy-ment in life is to be found in work. Everything which man creates decays when neglected, but nothing in nature goes to pieces so fast as man in idleness. The conditions of all our faculties and enjoyments are found in the full exercise of all our powers to the limit of their capacity. There are examples of college men ad inflnitissium whose voice touches no sympathetic chord in the activities of to-day. Their thoughts never got beyond college politics and rivalries of secret societies. They have always been idlers and now are hopeless failures. As in the lower life the busy bees have no room for the drone, so in a college community the diligent students have no room for the dilatory. Let us conscientiously answer the ever-present question would our parents approve of their money's time and benefit ? and give tireless attention to our own work and advancement and when the commencement clock strikes we shall all be ready for our liberal professions. EXCHANGES. | GAIN it becomes our pleasant duty to examine and com-ment on our exchanges. We are gratified to see so many of the former papers again appear this year; as well as many new ones. A few of the former ex-changes have not yet made their appearance, but we trust it is only a matter of a short time until we shall again have the pleas-ure of receiving them. The matter of criticism is quite a relative one; some papers choose to tear every thread of good out of productions by hostile criticism; others are too apt in praising. It has always been our custom to act the part of appreciative critics in dealing with our friends. Of course there is often a necessity to make the harsher 32 THE MERCURY. kind of criticism, but in so doing we shall always do it with a friendly spirit and trust no offense is taken. Of the few exchanges to reach our hands this year one of the best is "The Gilford Collegian;" its departments are all well ordered and literary contributions are of a high order. The ora-tion, "The Solid South," is a very pertinent production; it deals in a broad and sensible manner with the reasons of southern solidity and shows how the causes for it no longer exist and that the idea belonging to a past time should be relegated to its pro-per place by the thoughtful citizens. The story, "The Heart of a Woman," in the same issue is very clearly written and not only causes much amusement but some serious thought. The October issue of "The College Student" is filled with well written articles. "The Crime of the Congo" and "The Crucible of Life" show much preparation and skillful arrangement of material. "We gratefully acknowledge all exchanges received. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. IN this Drama of Four Year's Course, Play your part without dad's horse ; This to do is up to you With just a little tact between each yearly act, In some domain take a stroll And sell ALUMINUM for next year's Role (roll). Every summer hundreds of students make BIG MONEY selling Aluminum Cooking Utensils. For particulars address LOUIS HETZEL, Gettysburg College, GETTYSBURG, PA. THE STEWART & STEEN CO., COLLEGE ENGRAVERS, 1024 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA. MAKERS OF INVITATIONS, PROGRAMS, MENUS, VISITING CARDS, DANCE CARDS, MONOGRAMS, CLASS AND FRATERNITY STATIONERY. P. S. MILLER, '10, Representative, Who has a full line of samples. EDUCATION The times an .1 the Schools demand that the best things shall be done and in the best manner. Watermans^FountainPen accomplishes everything that can be required of a good writing in-strument. Made to last for years of service and give its owner the satisfaction which comes with owning "the best." From all dealers. The Globe trade-mark i» our guarantee .742 Market St. San Frm 136 St. Jftinei St., Moi.trenl 12 Golden L*n«. ton-ton G Ru« A* lUnovm Paris PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. FUIOTTU^E Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames, Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. - Telephone No. 97. H. B. BENDER. 37 Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. EDGAR C. TAWNEY BAKER West Middle Street. J. B. WINEMAN, DEALER IN CHOICE FAMILY GROCERIES, PROVISIONS AND FRUITS, BOARDING CLUBS A SPECIALTY. L. WEIGAND, DEALER IN FRESH AND CURED MEATS OF ALL KINDS-Boarding Clubs a Specialty. §003^5 f^e5tQUPQDt, No. 7 Chambersburg Street. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. EMIL ZOTHE, College Emblems, Engraver, Designer and Manufacturing Jeweler, 722 Chestnut St., Phil delphia. Specialties: Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered through G. F. Kieffer. Charles S. Mumper, DEALER IN FURNITURE, PICTURE FRAMES OF ALL SORTS REPAIR WORK DONE PROMPTLY I will also BUY or EXCHANGE any SECOND-HAND FURNITURE No. 4 Chambersburg street, Gettysburg, Pa. D. J. Swartz, DEALER IN COUNTRY PRODUCE, GROCERIES, CIGARS AND TOBACCO. GETTYSBURG. —IS— OHLER BRO.'S RESTAURANT, First National Bank Bld'g. The place to eat the best Ice Cream. QUICK LUNCH and Oysters in season. Your Photographer, If not, why not? 41 Baltimore St., Gettysburg. FLEMMING I BAIR'S LIVERY, Baltimore Street, First Square, Gettysburg, Pa. Competent Guides for all parts of the Battlefield. Arrange-ments by telegram or letter. Dock Bock 257. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. WINDSOR HOTEL, W. T. BRUBAKEB, Manager. Midway between Broad St. Station and Reading Terminal on Filbert St. A convenient and homelike place to stay while in the city shopping. An excellent restaurant where good service combines with low prices. BOOMS $1.00 PER DAY AND UP. The only moderate priced hotel of reputation and consequence in PHILADELPHIA. The Modern Steam Laundry . . OF YORK . . Offers the COLLEGE STUDENTS first-class work at Special Low Prices. E. C. STOUFFER, Local Agt. C. D. SMITH, Prop. The Baltimore Medical College Preliminary Fall Course begins September ist. Regular Winter Course begins September 20th. Liberal teaching facilities ; Modern college buildings; Comfortable lecture hall and amphitheatres ; Large and complete equipped laboratories; Capacious hospital and dispensary; Lying-in department for teaching clinical obstetrics ; Large clinics. Send for catalogue. Address DAVID STREETT, M. D., Dean, N. E. Cor. Madison St., and Linden Ave., Baltimore, Md. COMPILER IMPRINT ON JOB WORK MEANS TASTY WORK CAREFULLY DONE. MENU CARDS WINDOW" POSTERS LETTER HEADS ENVELOPES DANCE CARDS TICKETS Programs of all kinds. Everything the College Man wants in Paper and Ink. Specially designed work. Latest Effects in Paper, done in Colors along lines of College Men's Associations. Catalog and Book work. The Gettysburg Compiler will keep old and new students in touch with town and college life.

Daniel Deudney on Mixed Ontology, Planetary Geopolitics, and Republican Greenpeace



This is the second in a series of Talks dedicated to the technopolitics of International Relations, linked to the forthcoming double volume 'The Global Politics of Science and Technology' edited by Maximilian Mayer, Mariana Carpes, and Ruth Knoblich 






World politics increasingly abrasions with the limits of state-centric thinking, faced as the world is with a set of issues that affect not only us collectively as mankind, but also the planet itself. While much of IR theorizing seems to shirk such realizations, the work of Daniel Deudney has consistently engaged with the complex problems engendered by the entanglements of nuclear weapons, the planetary environment, space exploration, and the kind of political associations that might help us to grapple with our fragile condition as humanity-in-the world. In this elaborate Talk, Deudney—amongst others—lays out his understanding of the fundamental forces that drive both planetary political progress and problems; discusses the kind of ontological position needed to appreciate these problems; and argues for the merits of a republican greenpeace model to political organization.





Print version of this Talk (pdf)







What is, according to you, the biggest challenge / principal debate in current IR? What is your position or answer to this challenge / in this debate?



The study of politics is the study of human politics and the human situation has been—and is being—radically altered by changes in the human relationships with the natural and material worlds. In my view, this means IR and related intellectual disciplines should focus on better understanding the emergence of the 'global' and the 'planetary,' their implications for the overall human world and its innumerable sub-worlds, and their relations with the realization of basic human needs. The global and the planetary certainly don't comprise all of the human situation, but the fact that the human situation has become global and planetary touches every other facet of the human situation, sometimes in fundamental ways. The simple story is that the human world is now 'global and planetary' due to the explosive transformation over the last several centuries of science-based technology occurring within the geophysical and biophysical features of planet Earth. The natural Earth and its relationship with humans have been massively altered by the vast amplifications in dispersed human agency produced by the emergence and spread of machine-based civilization. The overall result of these changes has been the emergence of a global- and planetary-scale material and social reality that is in some ways similar, but in other important ways radically different, from earlier times. Practices and structures inherited from the pre-global human worlds have not adequately been adjusted to take the new human planetary situation into account and their persistence casts a long and partially dark shadow over the human prospect.



A global and planetary focus is also justified—urgently—by the fact that the overall human prospect on this planet, and the fate of much additional life on this planet, is increasingly dependent on the development and employment of new social arrangements for interacting with these novel configurations of material and natural possibilities and limits. Human agency is now situated, and is making vastly fateful choices—for better or worse—in a sprawling, vastly complex aggregation of human-machine-nature assemblies which is our world. The 'fate of the earth' now partly hinges on human choices, and helping to make sure these choices are appropriate ones should be the paramount objective of political scientific and theoretical efforts. However, no one discipline or approach is sufficient to grapple successfully with this topic. All disciplines are necessary. But there are good reasons to believe that 'IR' and related disciplines have a particularly important possible practical role to play. (I am also among those who prefer 'global studies' as a label for the enterprise of answering questions that cut across and significantly subsume both the 'international' and the 'domestic.')



My approach to grappling with this topic is situated—like the work of now vast numbers of other IR theorists and researchers of many disciplines—in the study of 'globalization.' The now widely held starting point for this intellectual effort is the realization that globalization has been the dominant pattern or phenomenon, the story of stories, over at least the last five centuries. Globalization has been occurring in military, ecological, cultural, and economic affairs. And I emphasize—like many, but not all, analysts of globalization—that the processes of globalization are essentially dependent on new machines, apparatuses, and technologies which humans have fabricated and deployed. Our world is global because of the astounding capabilities of machine civilization. This startling transformation of human choice by technological advance is centrally about politics because it is centrally about changes in power. Part of this power story has been about changes in the scope and forms of domination. Globalization has been, to state the point mildly, 'uneven,' marked by amplifications of violence and domination and predation on larger and wider scales. Another part of the story of the power transformation has been the creation of a world marked by high degrees of interdependence, interaction, speed, and complexity. These processes of globalization and the transformation of machine capabilities are not stopping or slowing down but are accelerating. Thus, I argue that 'bounding power'—the growth, at times by breathtaking leaps, of human capabilities to do things—is now a fundamental feature of the human world, and understanding its implications should, in my view, be a central activity for IR scholars.



In addressing the topic of machine civilization and its globalization on Earth, my thinking has been centered first around the developing of 'geopolitical' lines argument to construct a theory of 'planetary geopolitics'. 'Geopolitics' is the study of geography, ecology, technology, and the earth, and space and place, and their interaction with politics. The starting point for geopolitical analysis is accurate mapping. Not too many IR scholars think of themselves as doing 'geography' in any form. In part this results from of the unfortunate segregation of 'geography' into a separate academic discipline, very little of which is concerned with politics. Many also mistake the overall project of 'geopolitics' with the ideas, and egregious mistakes and political limitations, of many self-described 'geopoliticans' who are typically arch-realists, strong nationalists, and imperialists. Everyone pays general lip service to the importance of technology, but little interaction occurs between IR and 'technology studies' and most IR scholars are happy to treat such matters as 'technical' or non-political in character. Despite this general theoretical neglect, many geographic and technological factors routinely pop into arguments in political science and political theory, and play important roles in them.



Thinking about the global and planetary through the lens of a fuller geopolitics is appealing to me because it is the human relationship with the material world and the Earth that has been changed with the human world's globalization. Furthermore, much of the actual agendas of movements for peace, arms control, and sustainability are essentially about alternative ways of ordering the material world and our relations with it. Given this, I find an approach that thinks systematically about the relations between patterns of materiality and different political forms is particularly well-suited to provide insights of practical value for these efforts.



The other key focus of my research has been around extending a variety of broadly 'republican' political insights for a cluster of contemporary practical projects for peace, arms control, and environmental stewardship ('greenpeace'). Even more than 'geopolitics,' 'republicanism' is a term with too many associations and meanings. By republics I mean political associations based on popular sovereignty and marked by mutual limitations, that is, by 'bounding power'—the restraint of power, particularly violent power—in the interests of the people generally. Assuming that security from the application of violence to bodies is a primary (but not sole) task of political association, how do republican political arrangements achieve this end? I argue that the character and scope of power restraint arrangements that actually serve the fundamental security interests of its popular sovereign varies in significant ways in different material contexts.



Republicanism is first and foremost a domestic form, centered upon the successive spatial expansion of domestic-like realms, and the pursuit of a constant political project of maximally feasible ordered freedom in changed spatial and material circumstances. I find thinking about our global and planetary human situation from the perspective of republicanism appealing because the human global and planetary situation has traits—most notably high levels of interdependence, interaction, practical speed, and complexity—that make it resemble our historical experience of 'domestic' and 'municipal' realms. Thinking with a geopolitically grounded republicanism offers insights about global governance very different from the insights generated within the political conceptual universe of hierarchical, imperial, and state-centered political forms. Thus planetary geopolitics and republicanism offers a perspective on what it means to 'Think Globally and Act Locally.' If we think of, or rather recognize, the planet as our locality, and then act as if the Earth is our locality, then we are likely to end up doing various approximations of the best-practice republican forms that we have successfully developed in our historically smaller domestic localities.





How did you arrive at where you currently are in IR?



Like anybody else, the formative events in my intellectual development have been shaped by the thick particularities of time and place. 'The boy is the father of the man,' as it is said. The first and most direction-setting stage in the formation of my 'green peace' research interests was when I was in 'grade school,' roughly the years from age 6-13. During these years my family lived in an extraordinary place, St Simons Island, a largely undeveloped barrier island off the coast of southern Georgia. This was an extremely cool place to be a kid. It had extensive beaches, and marshes, as well as amazing trees of gargantuan proportions. My friends and I spent much time exploring, fishing, camping out, climbing trees, and building tree houses. Many of these nature-immersion activities were spontaneous, others were in Boy Scouts. This extraordinary natural environment and the attachments I formed to it, shaped my strong tendency to see the fates of humans and nature as inescapably intertwined. But the Boy Scouts also instilled me with a sense of 'virtue ethics'. A line from the Boy Scout Handbook captures this well: 'Take a walk around your neighborhood. Make a list of what is right and wrong about it. Make a plan to fix what is not right.' This is a demotic version of Weber's political 'ethic of responsibility.' This is very different from the ethics of self-realization and self-expression that have recently gained such ground in America and elsewhere. It is now very 'politically incorrect' to think favorably of the Boy Scouts, but I believe that if the Scouting experience was universally accessible, the world would be a much improved place.



My kid-in-nature life may sound very Tom Sawyer, but it was also very Tom Swift. My friends and I spent much of our waking time reading about the technological future, and imaginatively play-acting in future worlds. This imaginative world was richly fertilized by science fiction comic books, television shows, movies, and books. Me and my friends—juvenile technological futurists and techno-nerds in a decidedly anti-intellectual culture—were avid readers of Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Ray Bradbury, and Robert Heinlein, and each new issue of Analog was eagerly awaited. While we knew we were Americans, my friends and I had strong inclinations to think of ourselves most essentially as 'earthlings.' We fervently discussed extraterrestrial life and UFOs, and we eagerly awaited the day, soon to occur, we were sure, in which we made 'first contact.' We wanted to become, if not astronauts, then designers and builders of spaceships. We built tree houses, but we filled them with discarded electronics and they became starships. We rode bicycles, but we lugged about attaché cases filled with toy ray guns, transistor radios, firecrackers, and homemade incendiary devices. We built and fired off rockets, painstaking assembled plastic kit models of famous airplanes and ships, and then we would blow them apart with our explosives. The future belonged to technology, and we fancied ourselves its avant garde.



Yet the prospect of nuclear Armageddon seemed very real. We did 'duck and cover' drills at school, and sat for two terrifying weeks through the Cuban Missile Crisis. My friends and I had copies of the Atomic Energy Commission manuals on 'nuclear effects,' complete with a slide-rule like gadget that enabled us to calculate just what would happen if near-by military bases were obliterated by nuclear explosions. Few doubted that we were, in the words of a pop song, 'on the eve of destruction.' These years were also the dawning of 'the space age' in which humans were finally leaving the Earth and starting what promised to be an epic trek, utterly transformative in its effects, to the stars. My father worked for a number of these years for a large aerospace military-industrial firm, then working for NASA to build the very large rockets needed to launch men and machines to the moon and back. My friends and I debated fantastical topics, such as the pros and cons of emigrating to Mars, and how rapidly a crisis-driven exodus from the earth could be organized.



Two events that later occurred in the area where I spent my childhood served as culminating catalytic events for my greenpeace thinking. First, some years after my family moved away, the industrial facility to mix rocket fuel that had been built by the company my father worked for, and that he had helped put into operation, was struck by an extremely violent 'industrial accident,' which reduced, in one titanic flash, multi-story concrete and steel buildings filled with specialized heavy industrial machinery (and everyone in them) into a grey powdery gravel ash, no piece of which was larger than a fist. Second, during the late 1970s, the US Navy acquired a large tract of largely undeveloped marsh and land behind another barrier island (Cumberland), an area 10-15 miles from where I had lived, a place where I had camped, fished, and hunted deer. The Navy dredged and filled what was one of the most biologically fertile temperate zone estuaries on the planet. There they built the east coast base for the new fleet of Trident nuclear ballistic missile submarines, the single most potent violence machine ever built, thus turning what was for me the wildest part of my wild-encircled childhood home into one of the largest nuclear weapons complexes on earth. These events catalyzed for me the realization that there was a great struggle going on, for the Earth and for the future, and I knew firmly which side I was on.



My approach to thinking about problems was also strongly shaped by high school debate, where I learned the importance of 'looking at questions from both sides,' and from this stems my tendency to look at questions as debates between competing answers, and to focus on decisively engaging, defeating, and replacing the strongest and most influential opposing positions. As an undergraduate at Yale College, I started doing Political Theory. I am sure that I was a very vexing student in some ways, because (the debater again) I asked Marxist questions to my liberal and conservative professors, and liberal and conservative ones to my Marxist professors. Late in my sophomore year, I had my epiphany, my direction-defining moment, that my vocation would be an attempt to do the political theory of the global and the technological. Since then, the only decisions have been ones of priority and execution within this project.



Wanting to learn something about cutting-edge global and technological and issues, I next went to Washington D.C. for seven years. I worked on Capitol Hill for three and a half years as a policy aide, working on energy and conservation and renewable energy and nuclear power. I spent the other three and a half years as a Senior Researcher at the Worldwatch Institute, a small environmental and global issues think tank that was founded and headed by Lester Brown, a well-known and far-sighted globalist. I co-authored a book about renewable energy and transitions to global sustainability and wrote a study on space and space weapons. At the time I published Whole Earth Security: a Geopolitics of Peace (1983), in which my basic notions of planetary geopolitics and republicanism were first laid out. During these seven years in Washington, I also was a part-time student, earning a Master's degree in Science, Technology and Public Policy at George Washington University.



In all, these Washington experiences have been extremely valuable for my thinking. Many political scientists view public service as a low or corrupting activity, but this is, I think, very wrong-headed. The reason that the democratic world works as well as it does is because of the distributive social intelligence. But social intelligence is neither as distributed nor as intelligent as it needs to be to deal with many pressing problems. My experience as a Congressional aide taught me that most of the problems that confront my democracy are rooted in various limits and corruptions of the people. I have come to have little patience with those who say, for example, rising inequality is inherent in capital C capitalism, when the more proximate explanation is that the Reagan Republican Party was so successful in gutting the progressive tax system previously in place in the United States. Similarly, I see little value in claims, to take a very contemporary example, that 'the NSA is out of control' when this agency is doing more or less what the elected officials, responding to public pressures to provide 'national security' loudly demanded. In democracies, the people are ultimately responsible.



As I was immersed in the world of arms control and environmental activism I was impressed by the truth of Keynes's oft quoted line, about the great practical influence of the ideas of some long-dead 'academic scribbler.' This is true in varying degrees in every issue area, but in some much more than others. This reinforced my sense that great potential practical consequence of successfully innovating in the various conceptual frameworks that underpinned so many important activities. For nuclear weapons, it became clear to me that the problem was rooted in the statist and realist frames that people so automatically brought to a security question of this magnitude.



Despite the many appeals of a career in DC politics and policy, this was all for me an extended research field-trip, and so I left Washington to do a PhD—a move that mystified many of my NGO and activist friends, and seemed like utter folly to my political friends. At Princeton University, I concentrated on IR, Political Theory, and Military History and Politics, taking courses with Robert Gilpin, Richard Falk, Barry Posen, Sheldon Wolin and others. In my dissertation—entitled Global Orders: Geopolitical and Materialist Theories of the Global-Industrial Era, 1890-1945—I explored IR and related thinking about the impacts of the industrial revolution as a debate between different world order alternatives, and made arguments about the superiority of liberalist, internationalist, and globalist arguments—most notably from H.G. Wells and John Dewey—to the strong realist and imperialist ideas most commonly associated with the geopolitical writers of this period.



I also continued engaging in activist policy affiliated to the Program on Nuclear Policy Alternatives at the Center for Energy andEnvironmental Studies (CEES), which was then headed by Frank von Hippel, a physicist turned 'public interest scientist', and a towering figure in the global nuclear arms control movement. I was a Post Doc at CEES during the Gorbachev era and I went on several amazing and eye-opening trips to the Soviet Union. Continuing my space activism, I was able to organize workshops in Moscow and Washington on large-scale space cooperation, gathering together many of the key space players on both sides. While Princeton was fabulously stimulating intellectually, it was also a stressful pressure-cooker, and I maintained my sanity by making short trips, two of three weekends, over six years, to Manhattan, where I spent the days working in the main reading room of the New York Public Library and the nights partying and relaxing in a world completely detached from academic life.



When it comes to my intellectual development in terms of reading theory, the positive project I wanted to pursue was partially defined by approaches I came to reject. Perhaps most centrally, I came to reject an approach that was very intellectually powerful, even intoxicating, and which retains great sway over many, that of metaphysical politics. The politics of the metaphysicians played a central role in my coming to reject the politics of metaphysics. The fact that some metaphysical ideas and the some of the deep thinkers who advanced them, such as Heidegger, and many Marxists, were so intimately connected with really disastrous politics seemed a really damning fact for me, particularly given that these thinkers insisted so strongly on the link between their metaphysics and their politics. I was initially drawn to Nietzsche's writing (what twenty-year old isn't) but his model of the philosopher founder or law-giver—that is, of a spiritually gifted but alienated guy (and it always is a guy) with a particularly strong but frustrated 'will to power' going into the wilderness, having a deep spiritual revelation, and then returning to the mundane corrupt world with new 'tablets of value,' along with a plan to take over and run things right—seemed more comic than politically relevant, unless the prophet is armed, in which case it becomes a frightful menace. The concluding scene in Herman Hesse's Magister Ludi (sometimes translated as The Glass Bead Game) summarized by overall view of the 'high theory' project. After years of intense training by the greatest teachers the most spiritually and intellectually gifted youths finally graduate. To celebrate, they go to lake, dive in, and, having not learned how to swim, drown.



I was more attracted to Aristotle, Hume, Montesquieu, Dewey and other political theorists with less lofty and comprehensive views of what theory might accomplish; weary of actions; based on dogmatic or totalistic thinking; an eye to the messy and compromised world; with a political commitment to liberty and the interests of the many; a preference for peace over war; an aversion to despotism and empire; and an affinity for tolerance and plurality. I also liked some of those thinkers because of their emphasis on material contexts. Montesquieu seeks to analyze the interaction of material contexts and republican political forms; Madison and his contemporaries attempt to extend the spatial scope of republican political association by recombining in novel ways various earlier power restraint arrangements. I was tremendously influenced by Dewey, studying intensively his slender volume The Public and its Problems (1927)—which I think is the most important book in twentieth century political thought. By the 'public' Dewey means essentially a stakeholder group, and his main point is that the material transformations produced by the industrial revolution has created new publics, and that the political task is to conceptualize and realize forms of community and government appropriate to solving the problems that confront these new publics.



One can say my overall project became to apply and extend their concepts to the contemporary planetary situation. Concomitantly reading IR literature on nuclear weapons, I was struck by fact that the central role that material realities played in these arguments was very ad hoc, and that many of the leading arguments on nuclear politics were very unconvincing. It was clear that while Waltz (Theory Talk #40) had brilliantly developed some key ideas about anarchy made by Hobbes and Rousseau, he had also left something really important out. These sorts of deficiencies led me to develop the arguments contained in Bounding Power. I think it is highly unlikely that I would have had these doubts, or come to make the arguments I made without having worked in political theory and in policy.



I read many works that greatly influenced my thinking in this area, among them works by Lewis Mumford, Langdon Winner's Autonomous Technology, James Lovelock's Gaia, Charles Perrow's Normal Accidents (read a related article here, pdf), Jonathan Schell's Fate of the Earth and The Abolition, William Ophul's Ecology and the Politics of Scarcity... I was particularly stuck by a line in Buckminster Fuller's Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth (pdf), that we live in a 'spaceship' like closed highly interconnected system, but lack an 'operating manual' to guide intelligently our actions. It was also during this period that I read key works by H.G. Wells, most notably his book, Anticipations, and his essay The Idea of a League of Nations, both of which greatly influenced my thinking.



This aside, the greatest contribution to my thinking has come from conversations sustained over many years with some really extraordinary individuals. To mention those that I have been arguing with, and learning from, for at least ten years, there is John O'Looney, Wesley Warren, Bob Gooding-Williams, Alyn McAuly, Henry Nau, Richard Falk, Michael Doyle (Theory Talk #1), Richard Mathew, Paul Wapner, Bron Taylor, Ron Deibert, John Ikenberry, Bill Wohlforth, Frank von Hippel, Ethan Nadelmann, Fritz Kratochwil, Barry Buzan (Theory Talk #35), Ole Waever, John Agnew (Theory Talk #4), Barry Posen, Alex Wendt (Theory Talk #3), James der Derian, David Hendrickson, Nadivah Greenberg, Tim Luke, Campbell Craig, Bill Connolly, Steven David, Jane Bennett, Daniel Levine (TheoryTalk #58), and Jairus Grove. My only regret is that I have not spoken even more with them, and with the much larger number of people I have learned from on a less sustained basis along the way.

                                    



What would a student need to become a specialist in IR or understand the world in a global way?



I have thought a great deal about what sort of answers to this question can be generally valuable. For me, the most important insight is that success in intellectual life and academia is determined by more or less the same combination of factors that determines success more generally. This list is obvious: character, talent, perseverance and hard work, good judgment, good 'people skills,' and luck. Not everyone has a talent to do this kind of work, but the number of people who do have the talent to do this kind of work is much larger than the number of people who are successful in doing it. I think in academia as elsewhere, the people most likely to really succeed are those whose attitude toward the activity is vocational. A vocation is something one is called to do by an inner voice that one cannot resist. People with vocations never really work in one sense, because they are doing something that they would be doing even if they were not paid or required. Of course, in another sense people with vocations never stop working, being so consumed with their path that everything else matters very little. People with jobs and professions largely stop working when they when the lottery, but people with vocations are empowered to work more and better. When your vocation overlaps with your job, you should wake up and say 'wow, I cannot believe I am being paid to do this!' Rather obviously, the great danger in the life paths of people with vocations is imbalance and burn-out. To avoid these perils it is beneficial to sustain strong personal relationships, know when and how to 'take off' effectively, and sustain the ability to see things as an unfolding comedy and to laugh.



Academic life also involves living and working in a profession. Compared to the oppressions that so many thinkers and researchers have historically suffered from, contemporary professional academic life is a utopia. But academic life has several aspects unfortunate aspects, and coping successfully with them is vital. Academic life is full of 'odd balls' and the loose structure of universities and organization, combined with the tenure system, licenses an often florid display of dubious behavior. A fair number of academics have really primitive and incompetent social skills. Others are thin skinned-ego maniacs. Some are pompous hypocrites. Some are ruthlessly self-aggrandizing and underhanded. Some are relentless shirkers and free-riders. Also, academic life is, particularly relative to the costs of obtaining the years of education necessary to obtain it, not very well paid. Corruptions of clique, ideological factionalism, and nepotism occur. If not kept in proper perspective, and approached in appropriate ways, academic department life can become stupidly consuming of time, energy, and most dangerously, intellectual attention. The basic step for healthy departmental life is to approach it as a professional role.



The other big dimension of academic life is teaching. Teaching is one of the two 'deliverables' that academic organizations provide in return for the vast resources they consume. Shirking on teaching is a dereliction of responsibility, but also is the foregoing of a great opportunity. Teaching is actually one of the most assuredly consequential things academics do. The key to great teaching is, I think, very simple: inspire and convey enthusiasm. Once inspired, students learn. Once students take questions as their own, they become avid seekers of answers. Teachers of things political also have a responsibility to remain even-handed in what they teach, to make sure that they do not teach just or mainly their views, to make sure that the best and strongest versions of opposing sides are heard. Teaching seeks to produce informed and critically thinking students, not converts. Beyond the key roles of inspiration and even-handedness, the rest is the standard package of tasks relevant in any professional role: good preparation, good organization, hard work, and clarity of presentation.





Your main book, Bounding Power: Republican Security Theory from the Polis to the Global Village (2007), is a mix of intellectual history, political theory and IR theory, and is targeted largely at realism. How does a reading and interpretation of a large number of old books tell us something new about realism, and the contemporary global?



Bounding Power attempts to dispel some very large claims made by realists about their self-proclaimed 'tradition,' a lineage of thought in which they place many of the leading Western thinkers about political order, such as Thucydides, Machiavelli, Hobbes, Rousseau, and the 'global geopoliticans' from the years around the beginning of the twentieth century. In the book I argue that the actual main axis of western thinking about political order (and its absence) is largely the work of 'republican' thinkers from the small number of 'republics', and that many of the key ideas that realists call realist and liberals call liberal are actually fragments of a larger, more encompassing set of arguments that were primarily in the idioms of republicanism. This entails dispelling the widely held view that the liberal and proto-liberal republican thought and practice are marked by 'idealism'—and therefore both inferior in their grasp of the problem of security-from violence and valuable only when confined to the 'domestic.' I demonstrate that this line of republican security thinkers had a robust set of claims both about material contextual factors, about the 'geopolitics of freedom', and a fuller understanding of security-from-violence. The book shows how perhaps the most important insights of this earlier cluster of arguments has oddly been dropped by both realists (particularly neorealists) and liberal international theorists. And, finally, it is an attempt to provide an understanding that posits the project of exiting anarchy on a global scale as something essentially unprecedented, and as something that the best of our inherited theory leaves us unable to say much about.



The main argument is contained in my formulation of what I think are the actual the two main sets of issues of Western structural-materialist security theory, two problematiques formulated in republican and naturalist-materialist conceptual vocabularies. The first problematique concerns the relationship between material context, the scope of tolerable anarchy, and necessary-for-security government. The second problematic concerns the relative security-viability of two main different forms of government—hierarchical and republican.



This formulation of the first problematic concerning anarchy differs from the main line of contemporary Realist argument in that it poses the question as one about the spatial scope of tolerable anarchy. The primary variable in my reconstruction of the material-contextual component of these arguments is what I term violence interdependence (absent, weak, strong, and intense). The main substantive claim of Western structural-materialist security theory is that situations of anarchy combined with intense violence interdependence are incompatible with security and require substantive government. Situations of strong and weak violence interdependence constitute a tolerable (if at times 'nasty and brutish') second ('state-of-war') anarchy not requiring substantive government. Early formulations of 'state of nature' arguments, explicitly or implicitly hinge upon this material contextual variable, and the overall narrative structure of the development of republican security theory and practice has concerned natural geographic variations and technologically caused changes in the material context, and thus the scope of security tolerable/intolerable anarchy and needed substantive government. This argument was present in early realist versions of anarchy arguments, but has been dropped by neorealists. Conversely, contemporary liberal international theorists analyze interdependence, but have little to say about violence. The result is that the realists talk about violence and security, and the liberals talk about interdependence not relating to violence, producing the great lacuna of contemporary theory: analysis of violence interdependence.



The second main problematique, concerning the relative security viability of hierarchical and republican forms, has also largely been lost sight of, in large measure by the realist insistence that governments are by definition hierarchical, and the liberal avoidance of system structural theory in favor of process, ideational, and economic variables. (For neoliberals, cooperation is seen as (possibly) occurring in anarchy, without altering or replacing anarchy.) The main claim here is that republican and proto-liberal theorists have a more complete grasp of the security political problem than realists because of their realization that both the extremes of hierarchy and anarchy are incompatible with security. In order to register this lost component of structural theory I refer to republican forms at both the unit and the system-level as being characterized by an ordering principle which I refer to as negarchy. Such political arrangements are characterized by the simultaneous negation of both hierarchy and anarchy. The vocabulary of political structures should thus be conceived as a triad-triangle of anarchy, hierarchy, and negarchy, rather than a spectrum stretching from pure anarchy to pure hierarchy. Using this framework, Bounding Power traces various formulations of the key arguments of security republicans from the Greeks through the nuclear era as arguments about the simultaneous avoidance of hierarchy and anarchy on expanding spatial scales driven by variations and changes in the material context. If we recognize the main axis of our thinking in this way, we can stand on a view of our past that is remarkable in its potential relevance to thinking and dealing with the contemporary 'global village' like a human situation.





Nuclear weapons play a key role in the argument of Bounding Power about the present, as well as elsewhere in your work. But are nuclear weapons are still important as hey were during the Cold War to understand global politics?



Since their arrival on the world scene in the middle years of the twentieth century, there has been pretty much universal agreement that nuclear weapons are in some fundamental way 'revolutionary' in their implications for security-from-violence and world politics. The fact that the Cold War is over does not alter, and even stems from, this fact. Despite this wide agreement on the importance of nuclear weapons, theorists, policy makers, and popular arms control/disarmament movements have fundamental disagreements about which political forms are compatible with the avoidance of nuclear war. I have attempted to provide a somewhat new answer to this 'nuclear-political question', and to explain why strong forms of interstate arms control are necessary for security in the nuclear age. I argue that achieving the necessary levels of arms control entails somehow exiting interstate anarchy—not toward a world government as a world state, but toward a world order that is a type of compound republican union (marked by, to put it in terms of above discussion, a nearly completely negarchical structure).



This argument attempts to close what I term the 'arms control gap', the discrepancy between the value arms control is assigned by academic theorists of nuclear weapons and their importance in the actual provision of security in the nuclear era. During the Cold War, thinking among IR theorists about nuclear weapons tended to fall into three broad schools—war strategists, deterrence statists, and arms controllers. Where the first two only seem to differ about the amount of nuclear weapons necessary for states seeking security (the first think many, the second less), the third advocates that states do what they have very rarely done before the nuclear age, reciprocal restraints on arms.



But this Cold War triad of arguments is significantly incomplete as a list of the important schools of thought about the nuclear-political question. There are four additional schools, and a combination of their arguments constitutes, I argue, a superior answer to the nuclear-political question. First are the nuclear one worlders, a view that flourished during the late 1940s and early 1950s, and held that the simple answer to the nuclear political question is to establish a world government, as some sort of state. Second are the populist anti-nuclearists, who indict state apparatuses of acting contrary to the global public's security interests. Third are the deep arms controllers, such as Jonathan Schell, who argue that nuclear weapons need to be abolished. Fourth are the theorists of omniviolence, who theorize situations produced by the leakage of nuclear weapons into the hands of non-state actors who cannot be readily deterred from using nuclear weapons. What all of these schools have in common is that they open up the state and make arguments about how various forms of political freedom—and the institutions that make it possible—are at issue in answering the nuclear-political question.

                                                                                                                

Yet one key feature all seven schools share is that they all make arguments about how particular combinations and configurations of material realities provide the basis for thinking that their answer to the nuclear-political question is correct. Unfortunately, their understandings of how material factors shape, or should shape, actual political arrangements is very ad hoc. Yet the material factors—starting with sheer physical destructiveness—are so pivotal that they merit a more central role in theories of nuclear power. I think we need to have a model that allows us to grasp how variations in material contexts condition the functionality of 'modes of protection', that is, distinct and recurring security practices (and their attendant political structures).



For instance, one mode of protection—what I term the real-state mode of protection—attempts to achieve security through the concentration, mobilization, and employment of violence capability. This is the overall, universal, context-independent strategy of realists. Bringing into view material factors, I argue, shows that this mode of protection is functional not universally but specifically—and only—in material contexts that are marked by violence-poverty and slowness. This mode of protection is dysfunctional in nuclear material contexts marked by violence abundance and high violence velocities. In contrast, a republican federal mode of protection is a bundle of practices that aim for the demobilization and deceleration of violence capacity, and that the practices associated with this mode of protection are security functional in the nuclear material context.



What emerges from such an approach to ideas about the relation between nuclear power and security from violence is that the epistemological foundations for any of the major positions about nuclear weapons are actually much weaker than we should be comfortable with. People often say the two most important questions about the nuclear age are: what is the probability that nuclear weapons will be used? And then, what will happen when they are used? The sobering truth is that we really do not have good grounds for confidently answering either of those two questions. But every choice made about nuclear weapons depends on risk calculations that depend on how we answer these questions.





You have also written extensively on space, a topic that has not recently attracted much attention from many IR scholars. How does your thinking on this relate to your overall thinking about the global and planetary situation?

                                                                                                          

The first human steps into outer space during the middle years of the twentieth century have been among the most spectacular and potentially consequential events in the globalization of machine civilization on Earth. Over the course of what many call 'the space age,' thinking about space activities, space futures, and the consequences of space activities has been dominated by an elaborately developed body of 'space expansionist' thought that makes ambitious and captivating claims about both the feasibility and the desirability of human expansion into outer space. Such views of space permeate popular culture, and at times appear to be quite influential in actual space policy. Space expansionists hold that outer space is a limitless frontier and that humans should make concerted efforts to explore and colonize and extend their military activities into space. They claim the pursuit of their ambitious projects will have many positive, even transformative, effects upon the human situation on Earth, by escaping global closure, protecting the earth's habitability, preserving political plurality, and enhancing species survival. Claims about the Earth, its historical patterns and its contemporary problems, permeate space expansionist thinking.



While the feasibility, both technological and economic, of space expansionist projects has been extensively assessed, arguments for their desirability have not been accorded anything approaching a systematic assessment. In part, such arguments about the desirability of space expansion are difficult to assess because they incorporate claims that are very diverse in character, including claims about the Earth (past, present, and future), about the ways in which material contexts made up of space 'geography' and technologies produce or heavily favor particular political outcomes, and about basic worldview assumptions regarding nature, science, technology, and life.



By breaking these space expansionist arguments down into their parts, and systematically assessing their plausibility, a very different picture of the space prospect emerges. I think there are strong reasons to think that the consequences of the human pursuit of space expansion have been, and could be, very undesirable, even catastrophic. The actual militarization of that core space technology ('the rocket') and the construction of a planetary-scope 'delivery' and support system for nuclear war-fighting has been the most important consequence of actual space activities, but these developments have been curiously been left out of accounts of the space age and assessments of its impacts. Similarly, much of actually existing 'nuclear arms control' has centered on restraining and dismantling space weapons, not nuclear weapons. Thus the most consequential space activity—the acceleration of nuclear delivery capabilities—has been curiously rendered almost invisible in accounts of space and assessments of its impacts. This is an 'unknown known' of the 'space age'. Looking ahead, the creation of large orbital infrastructures will either presuppose or produce world government, potentially of a very hierarchical sort.  There are also good reasons to think that space colonies are more likely to be micro-totalitarian than free. And extensive human movement off the planet could in a variety of ways increase the vulnerability of life on Earth, and even jeopardize the survival of the human species.



Finally, I think much of space expansionist (and popular) thinking about space and the consequences of humans space activities has been marked by basic errors in practical geography. Most notably, there is the widespread failure to realize that the expansion of human activities into Earth's orbital space has enhanced global closure, because the effective distances in Earth's space make it very small. And because of the formidable natural barriers to human space activity, space is a planetary 'lid, not a 'frontier'. So one can say that the most important practical discovery of the 'space age' has been an improved understanding of the Earth. These lines of thinking, I find, would suggest the outlines of a more modest and Earth-centered space program, appropriate for the current Earth age. Overall, the fact that we can't readily expand into space is part of why we are in a new 'earth age' rather than a 'space age'.





You've argued against making the environment into a national security issue twenty years ago. Do the same now, considering that making the environment a bigger priority by making it into a national security issue might be the only way to prevent total environmental destruction?



When I started writing about the relationships between environment and security twenty years ago, not a great deal of work had been done on this topic. But several leading environmental thinkers were making the case that framing environmental issues as security issues, or what came to be called 'securitizing the environment', was not only a good strategy to get action on environmental problems, but also was useful analytically to think about these two domains. Unlike the subsequent criticisms of 'environmental security' made by Realists and scholars of conventional 'security studies', my criticism starts with the environmentalist premise that environmental deterioration is a paramount problem for contemporary humanity as a whole.



Those who want to 'securitize the environment' are attempting to do what William James a century ago proposed as a general strategy for social problem solving. Can we find, in James' language, 'a moral equivalent of war?' (Note the unfortunately acronym: MEOW). War and the threat of war, James observed, often lead to rapid and extensive mobilizations of effort. Can we somehow transfer these vast social energies to deal with other sets of problems? This is an enduring hope, particularly in the United States, where we have a 'war on drugs', a 'war on cancer', and a 'war on poverty'. But doing this for the environment, by 'securitizing the environment,' is unlikely to be very successful. And I fear that bringing 'security' orientations, institutions, and mindsets into environmental problem-solving will also bring in statist, nationalist, and militarist approaches. This will make environmental problem-solving more difficult, not easier, and have many baneful side-effects.



Another key point I think is important, is that the environment—and the various values and ends associated with habitat and the protection of habitat—are actually much more powerful and encompassing than those of security and violence. Instead of 'securitizing the environment' it is more promising is to 'environmentalize security'. Not many people think about the linkages between the environment and security-from-violence in this way, but I think there is a major case of it 'hiding in plain sight' in the trajectory of how the state-system and nuclear weapons have interacted.



When nuclear weapons were invented and first used in the 1940s, scientists were ignorant about many aspects of their effects. As scientists learned about these effects, and as this knowledge became public, many people started thinking and acting in different ways about nuclear choices. The fact that a ground burst of a nuclear weapon would produce substantial radioactive 'fall-out' was not appreciated until the first hydrogen bomb tests in the early 1950s. It was only then that scientists started to study what happened to radioactive materials dispersed widely in the environment. Evidence began to accumulate that some radioactive isotopes would be 'bio-focused', or concentrated by biological process. Public interest scientists began effectively publicizing this information, and mothers were alerted to the fact that their children's teeth were become radioactive. This new scientific knowledge about the environmental effects of nuclear explosions, and the public mobilizations it produced, played a key role in the first substantial nuclear arms control treaty, the Limited Test Ban Treaty of 1963, which banned nuclear weapons testing in the atmosphere, in the ocean, and in space. Thus, the old ways of providing security were circumscribed by new knowledge and new stakeholders of environmental health effects. The environment was not securitized, security was partially environmentalized.



Thus, while some accounts by arms control theorists emphasize the importance of 'social learning' in altering US-Soviet relations, an important part of this learning was not about the nature of social and political interactions, but about the environmental consequences of nuclear weapons. The learning that was most important in motivating so many actors (both within states and in mass publics) to seek changes in politics was 'natural learning,' or more specifically learning about the interaction of natural and technological systems.



An even more consequential case of the environmentalization of security occurred in the 1970's and 1980's. A key text here is Jonathan Schell's book, The Fate of the Earth. Schell's book, combining very high-quality journalism with first rate political theoretical reflections, lays out in measured terms the new discoveries of ecologists and atmospheric scientists about the broader planetary consequences of an extensive nuclear war. Not only would hundreds of millions of people be immediately killed and much of the planet's built infrastructure destroyed, but the planet earth's natural systems would be so altered that the extinction of complex life forms, among them homo sapiens, might result. The detonation of numerous nuclear weapons and the resultant burning of cities would probably dramatically alter the earth's atmosphere, depleting the ozone layer that protects life from lethal solar radiations, and filling the atmosphere with sufficient dust to cause a 'nuclear winter.' At stake in nuclear war, scientists had learned, was not just the fate of nations, but of the earth as a life support system. Conventional accounts of the nuclear age and of the end of the Cold War are loath to admit it, but it I believe it is clear that spreading awareness of these new natural-technological possibilities played a significant role in ending the Cold War and the central role that nuclear arms control occupies in the settlement of the Cold War. Again, traditional ways of achieving security-from-violence were altered by new knowledges about their environmental consequences—security practices and arrangements were partly environmentalized.



Even more radically, I think we can also turn this into a positive project. As I wrote two decades ago, environmental restoration would probably generate political externalities that would dampen tendencies towards violence. In other words, if we address the problem of the environment, then we will be drawn to do various things that will make various types of violent conflict less likely.





Your work is permeated by references to 'material factors'. This makes it different from branches of contemporary IR—like constructivism or postmodernism—which seem to be underpinned by a profound commitment to focus solely one side of the Cartesian divide. What is your take on the pervasiveness and implications of this 'social bias'?



Postmodernism and constructivism are really the most extreme manifestations of a broad trend over the last two centuries toward what I refer to as 'social-social science' and the decline—but hardly the end—of 'natural-social science'. Much of western thought prior to this turn was 'naturalist' and thus tended to downplay both human agency and ideas. At the beginning of the nineteenth century—partly because of the influence of German idealism, partly because of the great liberationist projects that promised to give better consequence to the activities and aspirations of the larger body of human populations (previously sunk in various forms of seemingly natural bondages), and partly because of the great expansion of human choice brought about by the science-based technologies of the Industrial Revolution—there was a widespread tendency to move towards 'social-social science,' the project of attempting to explain the human world solely by reference to the human world, to explain social outcomes with reference to social causes. While this was the dominant tendency, and a vastly productive one in many ways, it existed alongside and in interaction with what is really a modernized version of the earlier 'natural-social science.' Much of my work has sought to 'bring back in' and extend these 'natural-social' lines of argument—found in figures such as Dewey and H.G. Wells—into our thinking about the planetary situation.



In many parts of both European and American IR and related areas, Postmodern and constructivist theories have significantly contributed to IR theorists by enhancing our appreciation of ideas, language, and identities in politics. As a response to the limits and blindnesses of certain types of rationalist, structuralist, and functional theories, this renewed interest in the ideational is an important advance. Unfortunately, both postmodernism and constructivism have been marked by a strong tendency to go too far in their emphasis of the ideational. Postmodernism and constructivism have also helped make theorists much more conscious of the implicit—and often severely limiting—ontological assumptions that underlay, inform, and bound their investigations. This is also a major contribution to the study of world politics in all its aspects.



Unfortunately, this turn to ontology has also had intellectually limiting effects by going too far, in the search for a pure or nearly pure social ontology. With the growth in these two approaches, there has indeed been a decided decline in theorizing about the material. But elsewhere in the diverse world of theorizing about IR and the global, theorizing about the material never came anything close to disappearing or being eclipsed. For anyone thinking about the relationships between politics and nuclear weapons, space, and the environment, theorizing about the material has remained at the center, and it would be difficult to even conceive of how theorizing about the material could largely disappear. The recent 're-discovery of the material' associated with various self-styled 'new materialists' is a welcome, if belated, re-discovery for postmodernists and constructivists. For most of the rest of us, the material had never been largely dropped out.



A very visible example of the ways in which the decline in appropriate attention to the material, an excessive turn to the ideational, and the quest for a nearly pure social ontology, can lead theorizing astray is the core argument in Alexander Wendt's main book, Social Theory of International Politics, one of the widely recognized landmarks of constructivist IR theory. The first part of the book advances a very carefully wrought and sophisticated argument for a nearly pure ideational social ontology. The material is explicitly displaced into a residue or rump of unimportance. But then, to the reader's surprise, the material, in the form of 'common fate' produced by nuclear weapons, and climate change, reappears and is deployed to play a really crucial role in understanding contemporary change in world politics. 



My solution is to employ a mixed ontology. By this I mean that I think several ontologically incommensurate and very different realities are inescapable parts the human world. These 'unlikes' are inescapable parts of any argument, and must somehow be combined. There are a vast number of ways in which they can be combined, and on close examination, virtually all arguments in the social sciences are actually employing some version of a mixed ontology, however implicitly and under-acknowledged.



But not all combinations are equally useful in addressing all questions. In my version of mixed ontology—which I call 'practical naturalism'—human social agency is understood to be occurring 'between two natures': on the one hand the largely fixed nature of humans, and on the other the changing nature composed of the material world, a shifting amalgam of actual non-human material nature of geography and ecology, along with human artifacts and infrastructures. Within this frame, I posit as rooted in human biological nature, a set of 'natural needs,' most notably for security-from-violence and habitat services. Then I pose questions of functionality, by which I mean: which combinations of material practices, political structures, ideas and identities are needed to achieve these ends in different material contexts? Answering this question requires the formulation of various 'historical materialist' propositions, which in turn entails the systematic formulation of typologies and variation in both the practices, structures and ideas, and in material contexts. These arguments are not centered on explaining what has or what will happen. Instead they are practical in the sense that they are attempting to answer the question of 'what is to be done' given the fixed ends and given changing material contexts. I think this is what advocates of arms control and environmental sustainability are actually doing when they claim that one set of material practices and their attendant political structures, identities and ideas must be replaced with another if basic human needs are to going to continue to be meet in the contemporary planetary material situation created by the globalization of machine civilization on earth.

                                  

Since this set of arguments is framed within a mixed ontology, ideas and identities are a vital part of the research agenda. Much of the energy of postmodern and many varieties of critical theory have focused on 'deconstructing' various identities and ideas. This critical activity has produced and continues to produce many insights of theorizing about politics. But I think there is an un-tapped potential for theorists who are interested in ideas and identities, and who want their work to make a positive contribution to practical problem-solving in the contemporary planetary human situation in what might be termed a 'constructive constructivism'. This concerns a large practical theory agenda—and an urgent one at that, given the rapid increase in planetary problems—revolving around the task of figuring out which ideas and identities are appropriate for the planetary world, and in figuring out how they can be rapidly disseminated. Furthermore, thinking about how to achieve consciousness change of this sort is not something ancillary to the greenpeace project but vital to it. My thinking on how this should and might be done centers the construction of a new social narrative, centered not on humanity but on the earth.





Is it easy to plug your mixed ontology and interests beyond the narrow confines of IR or even the walls of the ivory tower into processes of collective knowledge proliferation in IR—a discipline increasingly characterized by compartimentalization and specialization?



The great plurality of approaches in IR today is indispensible and a welcome change. The professionalization of IR and the organization of intellectual life has some corruptions and pitfalls that are best avoided. The explosion of 'isms' and of different perspectives has been valuable and necessary in many ways, but it has also helped to foster and empower sectarian tendencies that confound the advance of knowledge. Some of the adherents of some sects and isms boast openly of establishing 'citation cartels' to favor themselves and their friends. Some theorists also have an unfortunate tendency to assume that because they have adopted a label that what they actually do is the actually the realization of the label. Thus we have 'realists' with limited grasp on realities, 'critical theorists' who repeat rather than criticize the views of other 'critical theorists,' and anti-neoliberals who are ruthless Ayn Rand-like self aggrandizers. The only way to fully address these tendencies is to talk to people you disagree with, and find and communicate with people in other disciplines.



Another consequence of this sectarianism is visible in the erosion of scholarly standards of citation. The system of academic incentives is configured to reward publication, and the publication of ideas that are new. This has a curiously perverse impact on the achievement of cumulativity. One seemingly easy and attractive path to saying something new is to say something old in new language, to say something said in another sect or field in the language of your sect or field, or easiest of all, simply ignore what other people have said if it is too much like what you are trying to say. George Santyana is wide quoted in saying that 'those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.' For academics it can unfortunately be said, 'those who can successfully forget what past academics said are free to say it again, and thus advance toward tenure.' When rampant sectarianism and decline in standards of citation is combined with a broader cultural tendency to valorize self-expression and authenticity, academic work can become an exercise in abstract self expressionism.



Confining one's intellectual life within one 'ism' or sect is sure to be self-limiting. Many of the most important and interesting questions arise between and across the sects and schools. Also, there are great opportunities in learning from people who do not fully share your assumptions and approaches. Seriously engaging the work and ideas of scholars in other sects can be very very valuable. Scholars in different sects and schools are also often really taking positions that are not so different as their labels would suggest. Perhaps because my research agenda fits uncomfortably within any of the established schools and isms, I have found particularly great value in seeking out and talking on a sustained basis with people with very different approaches.





My final question is about normativity and the way that normativity is perceived: In Europe and the United States, liberal Internationalism is increasingly considered as hollowed out, as a discursive cover for a tendency to attempt to control and regulate the world—or as an unguided idealistic missile. Doesn't adapting to a post-hegemonic world require dropping such ambitions?



American foreign policy has never been entirely liberal internationalist. Many other ideas and ideologies and approaches have often played important roles in shaping US foreign policy. But the United States, for a variety of reasons, has pursued liberal internationalist foreign policy agendas more extensively, and successfully, than any other major state in the modern state system, and the world, I think, has been made better off in very important ways by these efforts.



The net impact of the United States and of American grand strategy and particularly those parts of American brand strategy that have been more liberal internationalist in their character, has been enormously positive for the world. It has produced not a utopia by any means, but has brought about an era with more peace and security, prosperity, and freedom for more people than ever before in history.



Both American foreign policy and liberal internationalism have been subject to strong attacks from a variety of perspectives. Recently some have characterized liberal internationalism as a type of American imperialism, or as a cloak for US imperialism. Virtually every aspect of American foreign policy has been contested within the United States. Liberal internationalists have been strong enemies of imperialism and military adventurism, whether American or from other states. This started with the Whig's opposition to the War with Mexico and the Progressive's opposition to the Spanish-American War, and continued with liberal opposition to the War in Vietnam.



The claim that liberal internationalism leads to or supports American imperialism has also been recently voiced by many American realists, perhaps most notably John Mearsheimer (Theory Talk #49). He and others argue that liberal internationalism played a significant role in bringing about the War on Iraq waged by the W. Bush administration. This was indeed one of the great debacles of US foreign policy. But the War in Iraq was actually a war waged by American realists for reasons grounded in realist foreign policy thinking. It is true, as Mearsheimer emphasizes, that many academic realists criticized the Bush administration's plans and efforts in the invasion in Iraq. Some self-described American liberal internationalists in the policy world supported the war, but almost all academic American liberal internationalists were strongly opposed, and much of the public opposition to the war was on grounds related to liberal internationalist ideas.



It is patently inaccurate to say that main actors in the US government that instigated the War on Iraq were liberal internationalists. The main initiators of the war were Richard Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld. Whatever can be said about those two individuals, they are not liberal internationalists. They initiated the war because they thought that the Saddam Hussein regime was a threat to American interests—basically related to oil. The Saddam regime was seen as a threat to American-centered regional hegemony in the Middle East, an order whose its paramount purpose has been the protection of oil, and the protection of the regional American allies that posses oil. Saddam Hussein was furthermore a demonstrated regional revisionist likely to seek nuclear weapons, which would greatly compromise American military abilities in the region. Everything else the Bush Administration's public propaganda machine said to justify the war was essentially window dressing for this agenda. Far from being motivated by a liberal internationalist agenda the key figures in the Bush Administration viewed the collateral damage to international institutions produced by the war as a further benefit, not a cost, of the war. It is particularly ironic that John Mearsheimer would be a critic of this war, which seems in many ways a 'text book' application of a central claim of his 'offensive realism,' that powerful states can be expected, in the pursuit of their security and interests, to seek to become and remain regional hegemons.



Of course, liberal internationalism, quite aside from dealing with these gross mischaracterizations propagated by realists, must also look to the future. The liberal internationalism that is needed for today and tomorrow is going to be in some ways different from the liberal internationalism of the twentieth century. This is a large topic that many people, but not enough, are thinking about. In a recent working paper for the Council on Foreign Relations, John Ikenberry and I have laid out some ways in which we think American liberal internationalism should proceed. The starting point is the recognition that the United States is not as 'exceptional' in its precocious liberal-democratic character, not as 'indispensible' for the protection of the balance of power or the advance of freedom, or as easily 'hegemonic' as it has been historically. But the world is now also much more democratic than ever before, with democracies old and new, north and south, former colonizers and former colonies, and in every civilizational flavor. The democracies also face an array of difficult domestic problems, are thickly enmeshed with one another in many ways, and have a vital role to play in solving global problems. We suggest that the next liberal internationalism in American foreign policy should focus on American learning from the successes of other democracies in solving problems, focus on 'leading by example of successful problem-solving' and less with 'carrots and sticks,' make sustained efforts to moderate the inequalities and externalities produced by de-regulated capitalism, devote more attention to building community among the democracies, and make sustained efforts to 'recast global bargains' and the distribution of authority in global institutions to better incorporate the interests of 'rising powers.'





Daniel Deudney is Associate Professor and Director of Undergraduate Studies in Political Science at Johns Hopkins University. He has published widely in political theory and international relations, on substantive issues such as nuclear weapons, the environment as a security issue, liberal and realist international relations theory, and geopolitics.





Related links



Deudney's Faculty Profile at Johns Hopkins
Read Deudney & Ikenberry's Democratic Internationalism: An American Grand Strategy for a Post-exceptionalist Era (Council on Foreign Relations Working Paper, 2012) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney et al's Global Shift: How the West Should Respond to the Rise of China (2011 Transatlantic Academy report) here (pdf) 
Read the introduction of Deudney's Bounding Power (2007) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney's Bringing Nature Back In: Geopolitical Theory from the Greeks to the Global Era (1999 book chapter) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney & Ikenberry's Who Won the Cold War? (Foreign Policy, 1992) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney's The Case Against Linking Environmental Degradation and National Security (Millennium, 1990) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney's Rivers of Energy: The Hydropower Potential (WorldWatch Institute Paper, 1981) here (pdf) 









Print version of this Talk (pdf)

The Mercury March, 1901 u >—I N D c THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY The Literary Journal of Pennsylvania College Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter ■ I VOL. X GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1901 No. 1 WANTED:—A MAN JAMES MCCREE. Wanted:—a man, a true real man; Too proud to stoop and too clean to steal. Too broad for party, or clique, or creed, Yet loving his country's weal. With an open hand for friend or foe, And a restful faith where he cannot know. Wanted:—a man without a price, Who will do the right, nor count the cost; Scorning a world broad title deed If purchased with honor lost. With nerve to look a wrong in the eye, And courage to strangle it till it die. Wanted:—a man with a woman's heart, To swell in pity at human woe; With god-like grasp of intellect For the cause that deals the blow; And, with sturdy stroke of word or pen, Smite the curse from the hearts of his fellow-men. GETTYSBURG COLLEGE LIBRARY GETTYSBURG, PA. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE RELATION OF THE JUS NATURALE TO THE JUS GENTIUM J. RUSH STONER, '01. TN order that we may arrive at any idea of the relation of the jus *■ naturale to the jus gentium, we must first try to get a clear conception of the real nature or characteristics of these two forms of Roman law. When the stoic philosophy came into the hands of the Roman jurists, they extracted from its vigorous and elevating theories the idea of Natural Law as applicable to Roman jurisprudence. These jurists held that what they termed the jus naturale was the natural and ethical foundation upon which must rest all Civil Law. Thus the origin of Natural Law among the Romans might be referred to the philosophical ideas of the Stoics. These Grecian philosophers looked upon the universe as "imbued with an all-pervading soul or power," which they considered not only as a "dynamical force producing motion, but as a rational principle producing order and perfection." This rational principle, the}'' taught, is a constituent element of all being, and reveals itself not only as a law of the physical world in external nature, but also as a guide for human conduct, having its throne in the conscious-ness of man. Man's greatest duty, they claimed, is to discover the law of reason and conform to this law as it is set forth in the "essential constitution of his nature." The highest precept in the Stoic philosophy was "to live in harmony with nature." It was the ultimate principle laid down to guide men in all the rela-tions of life. And how true is the statement made by one of the writers on this subject: "By his original constitution, man is a participant of the Universal Reason, and by the exercise of his rational faculties he can discover the Law of Nature, so far as it is necessary to control his own conduct. When looked at from a moral point of view, the Law of Nature is thus the highest rule of human conduct, and the ultimate standard by which all human actions, whether individual, social or civil, must be judged." This Stoic philosophy, since the conquest of Greece, had a vast influence over Roman thought along the line of morality,— individual and social,—and legal rights and duties. Roman lit-erature from the time of Cicero to Alexander Severus was per-vaded" with the idea that law has a deeper foundation than mere conventionalities or customs. Cicero was the first to make the important step of grounding law upon nature; and in his "Laws" THE GETTSBURG MERCURY the fundamental principle is laid down "that man is born for jus-tice, and that law and equity are not a mere establishment of opinion but an institution of nature." This principle was specially applied by the jurists of the Empire in determining legal rights and duties. Just what idea the Romans had of Natural Law seems to be somewhat vague. Ulpian says that Natural Law is common to all living creatures, both man and beast; but this view was not generally accepted and had no influence on the legal thought of Rome. It was generally considered, in a proper sense, as applicable only to rational being. Cicero, in a striking passage of his "De Republica," gives his views regarding Natural Law, declaring that God is its author and its duties are unchangeable obligations. Therefore, he says, "It is not one law in Rome and another in Athens, one to-day and another to-morrow, but it is ever the same, exerting its obligatory force over all nations and throughout all ages." Here we perceive the germ of International Law planted in the alluvial soil of heathen philosophy; after the elapse of many centuries, to spring up into the vast system of In-ternational Law now involving much of the ripest modern thought and promising a vigorous growth to perfection in the future. There is not a universal agreement in the theories of the dif-ferent writers on the Law of Nature. However, Chancellor Kent follows very nearly the definition given by Grotius, when he says, "By the Law of Nature I understand those fit and just rules of conduct, which the creator has prescribed to man as a dependent and social being and which are to be ascertained from the deduc-tions of right reason, though they may be more precisely known and more explicitly declared by Divine Revelation." It is said to be written on the heart of everyone by the Divine Hand and that no one can claim ignorance of it, in so far as his degree of intellectual and moral development makes him able to read it. And its author, essentially just, is everywhere and always the same. Taking this view of Natural Law it would seem to belong more appropriately to ethics than jurisprudence. In fact, many writers do consider it as equivalent to Moral Science. Many writers, as Dr. Paley in his work on "Moral Philosophy," main-tain that it embraces man's duty to God, to his neighbor and to self. Some exclude all other significance of the term Natural Law, and confine it strictly to the "rules prescribed to man, by THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY right reason, in his conduct to his fellowmen." Then there is a third class who use it in a still more restricted sense to mark out the theory of only that part of man's duty to his fellowmen that can be enforced. There are rules of justice which are universally recognized as founded on the rational nature of man and dictated by reason. Agreeing with the statement made in Prof. Lorimer's "Institutes of Law," I believe that Natural L,aw may be most accurately de-scribed as "the dictates of reason with reference to human rela-tions." Judging from some of the ideas cherished by the Romans, their conceptions of the true significance of Natural Law were vague. They looked upon it at times as equivalent to equity, and this seems to have been the real point of contact, through which the jus naturale and the jus gentium blended into one perfect code of law. Then again they considered it as synonymous with the jus gentium. Whatever is the relation the jus ?iaturale bears to the jus gen-tium, one thing is sure, it performed an important role in estab-lishing for Rome her vast and matchless system of law. The jus gentmtn, according to Main's interpretation, was "a collection of rules and principles determined by observation to be common to the institutions which prevailed among the various Italian tribes." Whenever a certain custom or usage was observed to be common to a large number of races, it was set down as a part of the Law of Nations, or jus gentium. A great many observances of this kind were made, and if, after a careful examination, a common characteristic having a common object was found in all of them, it was thus classified in the jus gentium. This new system thus established was not favored by many at that time. It was con-sidered as a mere appendage to the jus civile, as a practical means for adjusting civil relations between real Romans and foreigners. But this new system of law was destined to hold a more impor-tant place in Roman jurisprudence. Soon it came to be regarded as a constituent part of Roman law, equal to the jus civile and even more superior in dignity. And the whole body of Roman law was then made up of these two essential and co-ordinate parts, .the old jus civile and the jus gentium. These two elements were combined to form one body of jurisprudence, and henceforth there was a tendency in legal development at Rome for "law" and "equity" to blend into one "single and organic system of justice." THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 5 The close relation the jus naturalehore to the jus gentium may be seen in the prevailing belief existing among the Roman jurists when the theory of Natural L,aw was introduced for their consid-eration. They believed that 'the old jus genthim was in fact the lost code of nature, and that the praetor in framing an edictal jurisprudence on the principles of the jus gentium was gradually restoring a type from which law had only departed to deteriorate." When viewed in the light of Natural L,aw, the jus gentium took on a significance vastly different from the old. It was no longer looked upon as a mere "body of customs common to Rome and the states subject to Roman dominion," but those common laws collected by the praetors were now believed to be the laws that Universal Reason had instituted for men in primitive society. And the fact of their common existence was a strong proof that they were taken from 'universal principles inherent in the very nature of man." And as a consequence there was a tendency among the philosophical jurists to identify, in this highest sense, the jus gentium with jus nalurale. Gains declares that "the law which natural reason has constituted for all men, obtains equally among all nations and is called jus gentium." We have associated with the conception of nature the ideas of "simplification" and "generalization." And the result of a close study of the L,aw of Nature by the Roman jurists was that of in-ducing them to regard "simplicity," "symmetry" and "intelligi-bility" as the main characteristics of a good legal system. And when the jus gentium was looked at in the light of the theory of Natural Law, the copious and involved phrases of the law became out of taste, and the many ceremonials and other useless difficul-ties quickly vanished. Thus the contact of these two principles not only gave to the established system of Roman law a greater dignity but also made it more concise and direct. The jus gentium, when thus transformed from its old signifi-cance to a higher meaning by the reforming power of Equity as cherished among the jurists, was brought into so close a relation to the jus nalurale that the two principles became one and insep-arable. And while the idea of equity seems to have been the ele-ment through which these laws were united, yet the union of these laws had the effect of establishing a higher conception of ' 'aequi- /os" itself. The'jus gentium " "a^«Vai"andthe "jusnaturale," all bear a very close relation to each other. Their similarity is ■"■I1,M" 6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY evident from the fact that they were so often considered identical. But each, if carefully examined, is noticed to have its own indi-vidual characteristics to distinguish it from the others. These terms of Roman jurisprudence might be considered successive steps in the development from a mere germ of International Law approaching the "perfect law of reason." But when we attempt to determine exactly what the true relation between \hajus naiut-ale and the jitsgentium was, we enter upon disputed ground. The real meaning the Roman jurists attached to the famous phrase, jus gentium, is not yet satisfactorily decided. And until this is rightly settled, no accurate conclusion regarding their real relation can be drawn. But one thing is certain, when Grotius drew up his famous system, known as the "Grotian Law of Nature," he adopted many principles of the jus gentiuni, declaring that they were part of that Natural Law, which all men are compelled by their own reason to obey; and his system of law was universally accepted by the civilized world. eQtfb THE HARM OF EXCESSIVE NOVEL READING ROBERT W. LENKKR, '03. [ OVEL reading is one of the principal diversions of the present day. Great is the number of persons who, as soon as they have partaken of a meal, lie idly about to digest, as it were, the plot of a novel along with their food. Neither is novel reading confined to that class who are well able to be at leisure at almost all hours, but it is indulged in by all classes from the common laboring man to the best families of the earth. Thus the novel has a great range and is read by a vast multitude. To read a good novel occasionally, thinking about what you have read, and storing it away, is beneficial and instructive, but to skip over any novel, good or bad, as many do, is harmful. Some one has said, "Reading without reflecting is like eating without digesting." It is necessary that novels should be classified for this discus-sion. First, we have the classical novel which has stood the test of years and has been given a permanent place in the literature of the world. Nothing harmful can result from the excessive read-ing of this class except that the habit may be carried so far as to THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 7 be at the expense of biography, history and other matters of fact which are needful. The popular novel is the next to be considered. In this class are found such books as David Harum, Janice Meredith, Richard Carvel, and scores of others of not quite so recent publication. One is not considered " up to date " who has not read these books, but let me ask how many of these books will stand the test of years. Just one step lower than the popular novel we find books by such authors as Bertha Clay, Mfs. Georgie Sheldon, and hun-dreds of others of the same rank. The constant reading of books of this kind is most injurious. Of course the novel must have its hero or heroine, and it must of necessity be a tale of love. In these books the sympathy of the tender hearted reader goes out to one or more of the fictitious per-sonages. Sympathy gives way to compassion, and compassion to tears—the usual sign of grief. Were this to happen occasionally there would be no harm done, but when one is addicted to the novel it is a frequent occurrence. Softness of the heart disappears gradually, and finally all sense of tenderness and sympathy is destroyed. The last and worst class of novels is that class of dime novels so fitly styled 'blood and thunder." They frequently lead to heinous crimes those who are so unfortunate as to be drawn into the habit of reading them. This is a work of the devil which finds willing victims among school boys, and to which the corruption and ruin of many a precious soul may be attributed. It is need-less to describe this class of vile literature, but let it suffice to say-that the excessive reading of it has sent thousands of men to jails, penitentiaries and even to the gallows. Taken all in all, the reading to excess of any novels, whether classical or not, is harmful to humanity, first, because it destroys all sense of feeling; second, because it keeps from us the history of the world and its great men, and lastly, it takes up many hours which should be spent more profitably. An educated mind is a full-blown rose whose fragrance rejuv-enates all that come near.—Exchange. *-""-" — THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY MAS JOHNNY DEAR. CHAS. W. WEISER, '01. Johnny was a little man Who never told a lie, He never stole at mother's jam, Or "swiped" a piece of pie. (?) He spent his early years at home, Obedient (?) to his "ma," He was an angel in the sight Of his doting "pa." And when at last the day came That he was sent to school, He had a little "swelled head," And meant to keep the rule. (?) The fellows called him "sissy," He called them names as well; They had a "scrap" at recess Of which I "darsent tell." But when at eve returning He had a battered nose, A blackened eye and "strubbled" head, He made a prelty pose. His mamma had the tantrums, His papa took a fit, He was "as mad as blazes" That Johnny "wasn't it." * * « * He went to see his grandma Who lived upon the farm— All dressed "a cock-o-lorum" He did the "rustics" charm. He "grabbed a hold" the black cat, He held her by the tail, She scratched him on the "paddy" Which made the "youngster" wail. While playing with the house-dog, He fastened on a can, And clapped his hands, a shouting While the creature ran. He stole into the barn-yard And scared the poultry out, He stoned the pigs and cattle, Running 'round about. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY He "grabbed a hold" a cow's tail, She started on a run, She threw him in a mud hole— You should have seen the fun, They penned him in the wash-house, From there he "took a sneak," He climbed out thro' the window— He was a "perfect freak." He stole into the pantry, And helped himself to jam; He then ran down the mill-race, And fell into the dam. Old Towser saw him struggling, And helped him get away; He fled into the hay-loft, And lay upon the hay. "Twas there they found him sleeping- "Ma's darling little one," When they found he's missing, And all in search had run. «f£» A TOAST S. W. HERMAN, '99. 'TWAS a brilliant assemblage. Men famous as artists, sculp- A tors, authors and specialists of every kind had been gathered to grace the banquet. The odor of flowers and costly perfumes verily saturated the air. The tables were ladened with priceless gold and silver vessels heaped up with delicate viands. All that was beautiful seemed to be there to please the eye and delight the taste. Among the group of men there were but few in youthful prime. The springtime had passed and the autumn of life was draw-ing near to the great majority. Amid the clink of glasses and the clang of platters they lingered long over the feast. Then came the toasts and there was but one subject given to which each should respond—"The Happiest Day in Your Life." One of the youngest arose and holding high his bright goblet drank to the day when his ambition was realized in producing his first book. He recalled the intoxication of the joyous moment when he was assured of its success. Another drank to the day when his master-piece, a great paint- rsm 10 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY I ing, was completed and he stood before it drinking in its sublime beauty. Another told how happy was the day'when he restored, by a cut of his knife, the life of a patient. And another told of a life rescued from the depths of degradation and saved to a new life. Thus they spake of the days that brought to them the greatest joy. There was but one left and he was very old. The far away look in his eyes mirrored the character of his thoughts. As a swift rush of the incoming tide, his boyhood came back to him and he retraced it step by step. Slowly, almost unconsciously, he arose and with voice low, but distinct, gave his toast. He spake as though he were talking to some unseen person, relating a tale that had become the sweeter the more he told it. A silence that could almost be felt fell upon his hearers and thus he spake: "How well do I remember that day, the day of days, when joy rushed into my heart with an over-powering sense of completeness. Standing at this distance and looking into the past, memory brings back its relics and lays them here before my mental vision. Yes, almost as real as when they happened. Only the rough places are smoothed over now and the sharp corners are rounded by time's peculiar power. I thought upon that bright day that sor-row could never enter into my life again. The cup of happiness, which was held to my lips, was so full that it overran the brim and was wasted. I did not care because I had so much, neither did I think that some day I would agonize in spirit and begrudge even one drop spilled. But many days and years have filled in the gap between that day and this. Days of varied pleasures and sorrows. Pleasures that tried hard to measure up to the joy of that one day, but somehow failed. Sorrows which by comparison seemed very bitter, even bitter unto death. I will tell the story of that day and you may judge what happiness was mine and now the pain. I awoke at the call of the birds that morning. Such melodies poured forth from their throats that it seemed the very air I breathed was sweet with mu-sic. It thrilled me so. A song of praise rushed from my heart and lips. With the song came words of prayer and thankfulness. My life had been one unbroken dream of tender care and comfort. Where'er my eyes turned that morning I caught glimpses of that which made me glad. And then I closed my eyes and saw bless-ing upon blessing passing before my vision, coming back in this THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 11 memory's hour, to show me cause for gratitude. But I arose and threw open the window to let in the pure fresh air of spring-tide. Oh! glorious vision of life everywhere. As I threw open the win-dows of that dark room, I threw open the windows of my soul and let in the light. And it seemed to rush in and bear me up to the great fountain of light so that I was cleansed and purified for the day's toil. I could not help but say : 'Thanks be to Thee, who gavest light of day to dissipate the darkness of the night and for that light which removes the darkness of ignorance and sin.' From my window I could see far down the valley. I could see fields green with growing grain. Here and there upon the winding road were wagons wending their way to the little village lying in the midst of the valley. Down by the side of a dancing brook were the cows taking their morning drink. In the barn the horses were being harnessed. The chickens were busily scratching in the barnyard for their breakfast of flies and worms. Everything betokened peace and plenty. On the other side of the brook the ground rose in undulating swells until it reached the foot of the distant bluish mountain. I seemed to absorb that quiet yet beautiful scene, unmoved by the forces about me, not feeling my-self akin to the life powers that existed in them. Then I hastened to come down and bathed in the cool sparkling water, making my body as pure and clean as my soul had been cleansed before. I can feel even now the vigor which that bath imparted. The blood fairly rushed thro my veins. That was life, strong in its intensity. And then came the breakfast and the morning greeting of father, mother and baby sister. Father's loud and cheery voice, mother's quiet and tender and sister's baby greeting. All these were infinitely tender and joyous as I recall them over the space of years. Was there disappointment or sorrow in any of those tones? It didn't seem so then. Ours was a perfect home, full of unselfishness and love. The daily chores were soon done and well done, since the day would be given me as a holiday in which I might do whatsoever I desired. Mother smiled to hear me singing at my tasks. The wood was sawed, split and carried to the wood-box. The water was drawn. Then I sat and/watched mother as she worked, and after many attempts, countless digressions and falteriugs of speech, I unveiled my heart to her. She understood me as only a loving mother can, and coming, took rny hand in hers and stroked my boyish curls. I can feel her cooling hand L ""Il" ■"■'■■ ' ""* 12 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY upon my brow even now—hands hardened by toil in deeds of love. What healing power was in those hands ! By their magic touch the fever in my veins was conquered. Aye, even the heart throbs of youthful sorrow melted away like the tiny ice-diamonds in the warmth of the morning sun. How often since have I wished myself back upon that old doorstep, telling mother all my trials and being prescribed for with her love that probed deeper than a surgeon's knife, yet with infinitely less pain and far better results. You will have guessed ere this the love which I had hidden in my heart. It was to me so sacred that I scarce could breathe it aloud for fear the winds might catch it up and tell to all the world my sweet shame, for so it seemed to me in those first hours. But 'mother heard it all and wished me well. She told me the old saying that the lady fair was never won by a heart that fainted. So I resolved to do that day what had lain upon my heart so long and begged for utterance. No more did my love seem boyish in my eyes, for under mother's magic spell it assumed its true pro-portions and I knew that the grandest thing in all the world was love. I had not cared now even if the birds had told it where'er they went, or the winds had found out my secret and had whispered it to all parts of the universe. Indeed I tried to think and speak aloud how I should plead my cause, and when, late in the after-noon, I went to see the one who awoke within me all this tender care, I had mapped out my plans. As I drove over that familiar road, all nature seemed transformed. The plants and trees sent forth an aroma than which I never breathed a more delicious fra-grance. Even the clouds of dust through the sun's rays appeared as showers of gold. And as I rounded the last bend of that little lane down by the garden, I saw her picking weeds from out the beds. How like her ! A weed troubled her until it was removed. There was not a weed in her pure soul. I stopped to gaze when suddenly she turned and saw me. I wasn't prepared for that. I wonder which of us felt the more embarrassed. She with a sud-den turn had torn her apron off and unrolled the sleeves which had revealed to me a dimpled, dainty arm. And I was caught as a spy, it seemed to me, gazing upon forbidden objects. My courage slowly returned, as with a graceful bow she welcomed me. My! but now my new born boldness had deserted me. Where was that self-assurance now, which was so self-assertive 7HE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 13 but a short time since. All my forces put to flight by a little pink dress. There I sat and pondered over this question until she came forth to take a drive with me. We chose the road along the little dancing brook. The memory of that evening comes to me now, with such a wealth of meaning, that my words to de-scribe it seem to clothe it with poor rags. We talked of indiffer-ent things. But there was something that I wanted to say which seemed to choke me. I would make a bold attempt, only to fin-ish my remark with something concerning stream or sky or when these became exhausted to repeat them. At least a silence fell. I said I alwa)'S liked to view such a scene in silence and simply think. But really I wanted time to bring up reserve forces for the final attack upon this little defenceless fortress by my side. It was unfair I know. But had she been armed with all the weapons of war I would have had more courage. Every-thing about me seemed to speak of love. This little brook which rushed along so gayly, kissing the bank and babbling words of love to the fair water lilies, urged me on. The trees, aided by the winds, clasped their branches around each other and sighed with very surfeit of love. And yonder setting sun blushed rosy red as he kissed yon mountain top. With the increasing fervor of my imagination and the figures which it formed, I grew bolder. But now my beautiful words had flown. I thought it best to cap-ture by a quick attack, and so I blurted out my love. I would give half the years of my life to see again that flush of glad sur-prise, to see those deep blue eyes look into mine with sweet sur-render. Silence now was welcome, while our hearts tried to calm their startled beat and understand their wondrous joy. We loved and all the world can never know our secret until it feels the power within its breast. The hours glided by and we came home. Then followed days of sweet assurance. No longer doubts came into either mind to mar the sweet security ofmutual surrender. All days were bright when I had her to see. But that day seems to me brighter than them all. And if my choice were granted me to bring back whatever day I might choose from my past life, 'twould be that day in which we told each other's love. That night the stars shone with dazzling brightness. The moon seemed to rival the sun. The katydids sang for me and the fire flies be-came as attendant spirits to show me home. Mother was waiting for me and I poured into her listening ear 14 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY the story of my happiness. She wept with very sorrow at losing me. No longer was she as brave as when she urged me on that morning. But her tears of self-loss were soon spent and she only remembered my joy. Who can understand the depth of the mother's love? My love has long since died. Father and mother, too, have gone to join that invisible throng. I live in the past, in those days when my happiness was overflowing day by day. Memory is my faithful servant to recount the sweet old story. Even when I glance forward into the future, memory brings me the materials from the past with which the vision is built. When I may see her again after these years of separation, will hold her again in my arms and tell her how my love for her has remained young and strong, that will be the happiest day of all days." The old man's voice faltered and broke, but suddenly his eyes brightened. He seemed to be listening intently to some one speak-ing to him. And then again he spake in tones loud and distinct. "But listen, I hear again the song of the birds. Throw open the windows. I^et in the light. There they come, all of them, father, mother and sweetheart." The toast was ended. Tears were the applause. Reverently they laid the old man down. At last the happiest day had dawned. c^p SOUL, WHAT ART THOU? Oh my soul! what canst thou be, With thy unknown heraldry— Thy ceaseless ebb of consciousness ? Wilt thou tell me whence has come This thy strange incessant hum, Made manifest with vividness ? From what weird ethereal realm Hast thou found a ready Helm, To guide thee to this senseless clay ? Closely shrouded in a cloud, Or the thunder riven loud, Has chance in some way shown the way ? Maybe thou hast been evolved And must yet be all dissolved With that which gave thee thy birth. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 15 Then wilt thou like meteor flee, . Where the sun from gilded sea Of clouds looks down upon the earth ? And wilt thou leave to its fate Clay thou didst inanimate, When it distasteful is to thee? Or, returning, bear away This clod to elysian day, Transformed to angels' symmetry? Soul. Oft in adversity ; Oft filled with amenity. The strangest of all things below. Perceiving and defining ; Recalling and combining; And feeling knows and knows it knows. Soul—essence in unity With powers of a Trinity— Wilt thou reveal thyself to me ? Or to immortality Change, and with celerity Reveal then thy identity ? «^SL> 'PORTER. Are you one of those noisy people ? Are you ? Stop and think. Noise never wins a man anything. It is never construc-tive— it is ever destructive. Know a poor, imperfect machine by the noise it makes. The mightiest of mechanisms, the solar system, works in perfect silence. Men who have moved their fellow men have ever been the most quiet in their demeanor. There is real power in silence. Seek to gain that power now while at college. Remember that "voice answereth to voice," and it is the "still small voice" you must awaken in the hearts of men if in any way you are to rule them. e*$b I hold in truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things. —TBNNYSON. I \J\J H *— * ' —■ ■lllWMl I ■■■■' I HUM THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter Vox. X GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1901 No. 1 E. C. RUBY, '02, Editor-in- Chief R. ST. CLAIR POFFENBARGER,' 02, Business Manager J. F. NEWMAN, '02, Exchange Editor Assistant Editors Miss ANNIE M. SWARTZ, '02 A. B. RICHARD, '02 Advisory Board PROF. J. A. HIMES, A. M., LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M.D. PROF. J. TV. RICHARD. D. D. Assistant Business Manager CURTIS E. COOK, '03 Published each mouth, from October to June iuclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription priced One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Ten Cents. Notice to discontinue sending- the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Profesiors, and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS nPO the members of the retiring staff we do not hesitate to say *• that we voice the sentiment of every friend of the MERCURY in extending to them a vote of thanks for their very acceptable and efficient service rendered to the literary journal of our Alma Mater. The editorial and the business departments have been so managed as to reflect great credit upon the staff. The high rank which the MERCURY, as a literary journal, holds to-day among the college publications and the excellent financial standing of the same shows that the student body had not misplaced their confi-dence. Whether this can be said of the new staff is a question which remains to be answered one year hence. To the Getlysburgian we extend our thanks for its words of THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 17 encouragement. We bespeak for the members of its new staff unparalleled success in the work which has been placed into their hands. With this issue the MERCURY enters upon its tenth year. It has not grown up without its trials and difficulties. In fact, it stands to-day as an excellent example of the truth that "strength is born of struggle." Let us not think, however, that it can maintain its present position without any more support. The pressure which is brought to bear upon it is greater each year. The more it grows and reaches out the more resistance it must necessarily overcome in order to move forward. With this in mind we trust that the students and alumni of Gettysburg College will give us all the encouragement and assistance possible in try-ing to push this journal to the foremost rank of its class. As to the case of plagiarism referred to in the February num-ber of this journal, we suppose it will be satisfactory to our read-ers to learn that the Princeton student has made a confession of his guilt and has been expelled from the University. The follow-ing is an extract from the letter which was written by the Prince-ton student to the editor of the Nassau Literary Magazine: "A great injustice has been done by me to Mr. Heilman, of Gettysburg, the University, my class, especially those who took part in the oratorical contest last June, and all who are proud of belonging to an institution where the principles of true Christian manhood are taught. I want to frankly confess the gross plagia-rism of which I am guilty, and remove any censure that may be brought upon your magazine, for upon me alone devolves the blame." J» The observance of the twenty-second of February as a national holiday is an important factor in the life of every American citi-zen, for it serves as a constant reminder of Washington and his relations to the history of the country and affords a good oppor-tunity for every one to show his patriotism, and his gratitude for the services of the man who threw himself, body and soul, into the life of the nation. Although set aside as a memorial to Wash-ington, it ought also to be looked upon as a remembrance of those who were silent participants in the struggle for success, in order that this country might be free. —S. %J\J> 18 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY AN ALUMNUS HONORED BY THE PEN AND SWORD SOCIETY The Pen and Sword Society has again invaded the ranks of the alumni and succeeded in capturing one upon whom they thought it fitting to fasten their badge of honor. This alumnus was Rev. William M. Baum, D. D., of Philadelphia, Pa., who delivered the address at the recent public meeting of the society. Dr. Baum prepared for college in an academy at Reading, Pa., entered Gettysburg College in 1842, graduated in 1846, entered the Theological Seminary the same year, and was admitted to the ministry in 1848. In 1861 he became a member of the Board of Trustees of Gettysburg College and also of the Board of Di-rectors of the Theological Seminary. He is the oldest member of the Board of Trustees, but is still as young in his activity for the welfare of his alma mater as ever. He seems always ready to grasp any opportunity to further the interests of Gettysburg Col-lege. We feel confident that no one will say that the Pen and Sword has made a mistake in choosing a man whose feelings towards the institution are in perfect harmony with the objects of the society. A NIGHT OF TERROR TN the course of a lifetime one is called upon to undergo many varied experiences. Most of these experiences are transitory in their effects ; but not a few of them, on the other hand, produce an indelible impression upon the mind of the individual, and are never forgotten. It is to this latter class that the one which I am about to relate belongs. Like an evil intruder it broke in upon the peace and monotony of my earlier years, and, at the time, seriously endangered my mental health and happiness. Now, however, although the memory of it is still unimpaired, I am able to look back with a smile of composure upon what was to me at the time a veritable night of terror, and, in the light of a fuller aud riper knowledge, make myself believe that what I so distinctly saw, heard and felt upon that night never had any existence,—in other words, that I was the victim of gross deception on the part of my senses. The northern part of the county of Monroe, in northeastern Pennsylvania, is still covered with vast tracts of woodland in which the ruthless axe of the woodman has not yet been permitted THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 19 to enter upon its work of destruction. Here the wild and pictur-esque Paconas reach skyward in rugged grandeur and beauty, as if in mute appeal to Him who created this old world to be spared from the spoiling hand of civilization. Here, amid venerable peaks, enveloped in hazy blue, deer, bears and other wild animals still find comparative peace and security. And there, too, issuing from out the mountain sides, are many brooklets of clearest and coldest water, which rush in glittering cascades down over pre-cipitous rocks, or, like interminable threads of silver, wind their devious ways among the underbrush in the bottoms of deep and shady ravines. Fortunate indeed is the angler or hunter who finds his way into these primeval regions, for here every brooklet is the home of countless numbers of beautiful, golden-spotted trout which have not yet learned to distrust the deceitful advances of the cunning followers of old Isaac Walton ; while clumsy Brunos frequently apprise you of their presence by suddenly emerging from the dense underbrush and deliberately looking at you in a surprised and inquiring manner, at the same time snorting their decided disapproval of your intrusion , and frequently beautiful deer with large watery eyes will suddenly confront you and then bound off again into the mountain fastnesses. Nor is this region pre-eminent alone for its natural beauty, but nearly every height and valley is invested with a strong romantic interest because of the many curious Indian legends connected therewith. One of these we shall here relate because of the direct bearing which it has upon our story. In a particularly obscure and unfrequented valley in these mountains, miles away from any other human habitation and al-most inaccessible to all but old mountaineers, is a rude and de-crepit log cabin, no longer tenanted by any living creatures but bats and wild animals which at times find in 'it refuge from the fury of the elements. A.nd yet, I hardly dare say that it is with-out any other occupants at present, for, if popular report is to be credited, evil and mischievous spirits of departed tenants still re-turn from time to time and make this old cabin a weird scene of diabolical revelry. Thirty-five years ago this cabin was inhabited by an old Indian sorcerer or medicine man, by the name of Wapohootche. He was the last one of his tribe to resist the civilizing tendencies of the time and place, and for years had dwelt all alone in his se- " " !UM-'' ff—"———- ""—"—■—■ 20 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY eluded valley, appearing among the whites only about once in four or five months in order to exchange venison and furs for the few products of civilization which he might need. Wapohootche was a remarkable character. The term, "old as the hills," was often applied to him, for his shiny, yellow pate, with its few sparse white hairs, his wrinkled and flabby skin and general ap-pearance indicated great age; he was evidently a centenarian be-fore our fathers knew him. However, his erect carriage and glit-tering eye showed that he still possessed much of the vigor and fire of younger years. Because of his reputed powers of sorcery he was held in superstitious fear and awe wherever he went. Wonderful stories were told of his fabulous wealth, and that these stories were well-grounded was shown by the fact that Wapohoot-che continually carried upon his person, as inseparable ornaments, four heavy golden armlets, probable relics of early barbaric splen-dor. It was in the summer of '64 that this Indian was last seen among the whites and it was generally believed that he had been murdered for his money, but not until some years after was any investigation made, so great was the superstitious fear entertained by the whites of entering Wapohootche's valley. At this time, however, two bold young hunters entered the Paconos with the avowed intention of visiting the valley and its solitary cabin. These hunters were never seen again, and popular report had it that they had fallen into the power of the evil spirits of the valley and had been spirited away. A rescuing expedition resulted in ignominious failure, for before it had come into sight of the cabin it was in some unaccountable manner seized with the greatest fear and panic, and the terrified rescuers were only too glad to escape with their lives. No further investigation was made and Wapo-hootche's Valley was shunned by all as an accursed place. In view of what has been said the reader can readily under-stand why I, a boy of fourteen at the time of which I write, should hail with delight the prospect of a trout-fishing trip to the Paconos. It required but little time to make the necessary preparations, and so, early one beautiful May morning, our party of ten started out for a point about two miles north of Wapohootche's Valley where the trout-fishing was exceptionally fine. We arrived at our des-tination just before sunrise, and in an hour or so were all stationed at different distances along a small stream upon the mountain THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY plateau, pulling out the finny beauties at a rate that would satisfy the most zealous fisherman. In the afternoon, by common consent, we divided our forces, some going up stream and the others down. L,ate in the day, about six o'clock as far as I could judge without a watch, I found myself so far down stream that I could obtain no response from my companions to my repeated halloos. However, inasmuch as my luck was very good just then, I determined to continue fishing down stream for awhile and then rejoin my friends. So interested was I in the sport that I became utterly oblivious to the passing time, and was only brought to my senses by the nearby rumbling of thunder. L,ooking about me, I observed that the sun had long since set and darkness, increased by a rapidly approaching thun-der- storm, was settling down. By the time I had put up my fish-ing tackle and had begun to retrace my steps, the storm was upon me in all its fury. I now found that while it was an easy matter to follow the stream on its downward course, it was a very difficult task to travel up stream. With a terrific rain beating in my face and vivid flashes of lightning blinding my eyes, it was impossible for me to make any progress. But, as I was now almost terrified at the prospect of spending a night alone upon the mountain, I de-termined to adopt what seemed to be my last resource, and follow the stream on its downward course until I should come to an old wagon-road which I supposed to be about a mile distant. On I now went with frantic haste, stumbling over rocks, run-ning into trees or becoming entangled in the underbrush. At last, utterly exhausted and completely bewildered, I leaned up against a tree and endeavored to regain my breath and quiet the painful throbbings of my heart. All about me was Stygian dark-ness. I made frenzied and ineffectual efforts to keep from my sight the scenes which every flash of lightning would reveal. The woods about me seemed full of horrible and menacing forms. The white trunks of dead trees with their bare limbs writhing in the storm were magnified by my highly excited imagination into frightful ghosts and the whole mountain seemed peopled with angry spirits. Overcome by exhaustion, fright, and a terrible sense of loneli-ness, I gave way to what was a very natural impulse for a boy of my age and sobbed spasmodically as I leaned there against that —-— yur *-• F^^^™"™™ ■■"■ ■■■■■ ■mniMmiM 22 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY tree. In my tears I found at least a temporary relief; tliey not only helped to shut out from my sight the terrifying scenes about me, but they also had a soothing effect upon my greatly overtaxed physical and mental faculties. A certain numbness seized me, and sinking down into a reclining position, I endeavored to nerve myself for whatever might come. Suddenly there was a particularly vivid flash of lightning and that instant I observed that my wanderings had brought me into a deep ravine. Immediately the appalling truth confronted me that I was lost in Wapohootche's Valley. Nor was I obliged to wait long for a confirmation of this truth, for all at once, with startling suddenness there broke out upon the night air a most hideous and blood-curdling scream which died away in a series of groans and sighs. At the same time I saw, by the aid of the lightning, a log cabin only a short distance before me which I in-stinctively knew to be that of Wapohootche. My knees smote each other and the cold sweat stood in beads upon my forehead. I sank to the ground in abject terror, but found my whole atten-tion involuntarily directed towards the cabin. The fury of the storm had abated, only fitful lightning remain-ing to lend to the scene a weird and ghostly effect. But now I longed for the crash of thunder again and the roar of the wind and rain, for, breaking in upon the oppressive stillness which ensued, there came to my ears from the cabin, heart-piercing sighs, groans and muffled screams of agony and despair, accompanied by fiendish laughter. Then arose a sound as if of some terrible struggle, ending in the fall of a heavy object after which there would again be those screams of agony mingled with demoniacal laughter. I tried to rise and flee, but I found myself riveted to the spot. And now I was able to distinguish a faint reddish glow about the door of the cabin, as it was slowly and silently opened, and presently, to my horror, I beheld in full view the hideous, skin-clad skeleton of Wapohootche, yellow with age and possessing a certain strange and terrifying luminosity. From out of the hol-low sockets of his eyes and from between his grinning jaws issued a reddish light. Suddenly that horrible, grinning skull riveted its gaze upon me; the light from its glowing sockets seemed to penetrate me through and through. And now the hideous appar-ition approached towards me with ghostly stride, the demoniacal grin becoming continually broader. I made another frenzied ef- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 23 fort to escape, but could not budge. Closer, closer, closer it came until it stood directly over me. Down it stooped, and I felt its cold, clammy fingers about my throat. My blood was frozen in my veins; I could not utter a sound. Slowly, but surely, the vise-like grip of Wapohootche tightened. I was being choked to death. At last, summing up all 1113^ strength, I gave vent to an agonized scream, made a frantic struggle, and thereby ended one of the most disagreeable dreams it has ever been my misfortune to have. The scene which now greeted my eyes was strange indeed, but it had none of the terrifying characteristics of my hideous dream. The dark ravine, the solitary cabin, the weird sights and sounds and the apparition of Wapohootche had disappeared. Instead of these, the moon was shining brightly through the leafy canopy overhead, causing the drops of water, left b}' the recent shower, to sparkle like diamonds, while all about was forest, and only a few yards before me the little stream, in which I had been fish-ing the afternoon before, gurgled and purled as it tumbled along its stony channel. My .mind soon grasped the situation. I remembered the shower, the darkness, the frantic flight, my terror and exhausted condition when I sank at the tree; and I knew it was thus that an unnatural sleep induced by exhaustion, had overpowered me and rendered possible my frightful dream, in which all the worst fears and apprehensions that had seized me during my flight had been more than realized. As I was sitting there, pondering over the strange experiences of the night, the stillness was broken by a familiar voice calling for me from some point not far distant. I immediately answered, and in spite of my stiffness and drenched garments set out with surprising speed along the path which I had followed the evening before. A few more halloos were exchanged, and presently, to my great joy, I met with two of my companions of the previous day who had been searching for me ever since the storm had ceased. There remains but little more to tell. By the time the sun had risen we were well on our way home, my companions re-proaching me more than once along the way for the trouble I had caused them, and I, for my part, being willing to bear all their reproaches without murmuring, inasmuch as Wapohootche and his mysterious valley had been left far behind us. —R. D. C, '00. IW' 24 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE OLD SPELLIING SCHOOL EMORY D. BREAM, '02. \ BOUT sixty-five years ago there arose in the country schools ** of this part of the country the custom of devoting a part of one day in each week to a spelling match. Reading, writing, arithmetic and spelling were the principal branches then taught. The teachers had very limited knowledge of arithmetic, so that the children learned little more than reading, writing and spelling. As spelling was the foundation of reading and writing, the teach-ers felt that it should have special attention. Out of these spelling matches in the school grew the night spelling school. The primary purpose in view was to learn to spell correctly. The school terms were short. The farmers did not have the im-proved machinery and labor-saving methods that they now em-ploy. Competition was not so great and money making was the chief aim of progressive country people. Their plain ways of living and dressing were inexpensive, so that by beginning early and working hard a young man was in most cases able to start in life with a comfortable income. Owing to these facts the children as a rule were not sent to school until late in the winter and then did not always attend regularly on account of threshing and other work that was done during the winter season. Often, too, they did not go to school after they were fifteen or sixteen. Al-though the people paid little attention to education, yet they felt the need of spelling when they wished to write a letter or trans-act business. It was to this end that such schools were begun. The social benefit of such meetings was also taken into consid-eration. Places of entertainment and social gatherings were few. Anything that would afford a meeting place for the young people was sure to be well attended. The boys and girls not only learned to know each other better but became acquainted with those who came from a distance. The only place that could be obtained for such a meeting was the district school-house. These buildings were the property of the people and everybody was made to feel welcome. The only convenient time to hold such a meeting was in the long winter evenings when the days were short and the people were not tired and exhausted from toiling through long hours in the scorching sun. The meetings were usually held weekly and always on the same evening of the week. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 25 Spelling schools were started for the benefit of young men and women, but the teachers soon became very much interested and in this way used their influence in getting their pupils to attend. The children were anxious to go and often succeeded in bringing their fathers and sometimes their mothers with them. About seven o'clock was the time to begin spelling. Before beginning, however, the class had to be organized and some num-ber chosen for a game. Two persons were selected to choose those whom each wished to spell on his or her side. Desks such as we now have in our school-rooms were unknown to them. Long benches were used instead. These benches would be placed along the wall on each side of the room, and each of the two di-visions of the class occupied the benches, one division facing the other. The best spellers were chosen first and took their places in order, commencing at the front end of the room. Either Web-ster's or Walker's common school dictionary was used. The teacher of the school, or some other person who could articulate distinctly, dictated the words and kept "tally," as it was called; that is, kept an account of the words missed by one side and gained by the other. Sometimes the teacher would ap-point another person to perform this office. Commencing at the head end of the class, one word and one trial was given to each member, passing alternately from one side to the other. In case a word was misspelled by one person it was given to one on the opposing side. Should he or she spell it cor-rectly that counted one for the side on which it was spelled. A word was always permitted to go until spelled correctly. Return-ing from the foot to the head of the class, spelling continued until the game was won. The number usually taken was fifteen or twenty, varying according to the ability of the audience in general. When one game had been spelled an intermission often or fifteen minutes was given. This was a time for conversation and finding a partner to take home when the meeting should close. Recess being ended, a new class was chosen and another game spelled after which "spelling off'' took place. Taking the two at the foot of the class, one from each side, they were permitted to spell against one another until one ' 'spelled the other down.'' The unsuccessful one now sat down and the next person on the same side rose in his stead. In this manner the spelling was continued ■——- DJ\JI BUI ■ mgBKB^Bimmmmmmmfiimmummimmwiimmnmmmmim 26 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY till all of one side had sat down. The audience was then dis-missed and the engagements made at recess were fulfilled. The growth of spelling schools was rapid. Not only did they increase in number but soon became well attended. With growth came success. By taking part in one or more of such matches each week for several winters, persons of ordinary ability became good spellers. Those who took special interest in the work would master all the words in the abridged dictionaries. Some who could not even read or write learned to spell comparatively well. This helped them to higher planes in society. Taking into con-sideration these facts, we feel safe in saying that the old spelling school reflects very creditably upon the people of half a century ago. To say that spelling schools have simply gone out of style is not sufficient. They are not altogether a thing of the past, but are few in number and little interest is taken in them. Various causes have contributed to their decline. Probably the introduction of more branches into the schools and the advance along all educational lines has taken the attention of the people from spelling to other studies. The children remain in school a few years longer than formerly. Many of these young people prefer to spend their evenings in study. Not as many people are required to do the farm work as formerly. Many young people have gone to the factories and schools of the cities so that there are not as many young people in the country as there were years ago. Other causes might be in-cluded among the foregoing reasons but the result would not be altered. From these facts it must be obvious that the spelling schools will not be revived to any great extent. Nor will the coming generations ever attain the proficiency which characterized many of our fathers and mothers. «t*£> Too much of joy is sorrowful, So cares must needs abound ; The vine that bears too many flowers, Will trail upon the ground. —ALICE CARY. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 27 RUSSIA'S ATTITUDE TOWARD AMERICA MoNTFORT MELCHIOR, '02. '"THE twentieth century opens with a continuance of the same * relations between Russia and America that existed at the dawn of the nineteenth century. Russia has ever maintained and still maintains a friendly policy toward America. There has never existed any complications or strained relations between these two colossal nations of the world. In the past her friendly policy has been plainly recognized. Russia was very glad and even anxious to sell' to the United States the territory of Alaska for a mere trifle, in order that she might have some feasible excuse for friendly overtures toward America. She has never been jealous of Amer-ica's expansion; on the other hand has rather encouraged it, seem-ing to say, "You take all you want in the western hemisphere, Cuba or whatever it may be, and wink at me when I grab on the eastern side of the globe, so that we may grow great together." Russia has probably felt the need and desired the aid of Amer-ica in checking the marine domination of England. England's advancement and especially her naval success has always been an eyesore to Russia, and she has smiled with satisfaction at the stride America has taken in rivaling England's marine career. Another evidence of Russia's friendliness was shown when, in the early days of the American empire, she so earnestly desired an embassador from that rising nation. Jefferson, then President, was desirous of establishing a minister at St. Petersburg, but the Senate thought that there were not sufficient reasons for such a policy, and whatever reasons there were they did not justify the extra expense. As a result the proposition was lost, much to the dissatisfaction of Jefferson, to say nothing of Russia. When Mad-ison became President and advocated the same policy, he met a like opposition, but by his obstinate perseverance finally succeeded in winning his point, and John Quiucy Adams was sent as Amer-ica's representative at the Court of the Czar. The personal bear-ing of Adams and his policy in diplomatic relations won the friendship of the Czar himself, as well as that of the whole nation, and to Adams was due much of the friendly bearing of this des-potism to the American Republic* During the civil war of the United States, Russia, if ever, I *MemolrB of J. Q. Adams. TU7WI «■»' ■ii" —'■iiTfiifiri'iiftfrnmirmTtnimiffliimmmiiiiiyiyiiiiiiMiiiiiyiin 28 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY manifested the interest of a firm and loyal friend. At this mo-mentous crisis when all the world favoured and even abetted se-cession or the partition of America, Russia, like the mighty bear she is, gave a murmuring growl of sympathy, and it is fair to say she would have felt little hesitancy in manfully expressing herself, had it been necessary. Russia alone stood out and refused to do aught against the stalwart youth who had developed from the valorous few who dared brave the long dreary years of New Eng-land and Virginian hardship. At the present everything seems to show that Russia still maintains the same attitude toward America, that she always has maintained. Along commercial lines it is to her advantage to keep relations just as friendly as possible, and no less for political reasons. Russia well knows that she can depend on none of the Eurasian countries as a friend, and she feels the sore need of a formidable ally. Her great hope lies in America, and if an alliance could here be formed she would fear no one. In the recent disagreements between the two great continents, Russia always showed ber sympathy to be with the United States. She gloried to see Spain go down under America's powerful arm, and is no less anxious to see the Philippines quieted, and America triumphant over all. Some great man whose name has now escaped our memory, said, a few years ago, that if the whole world became involved in a chaotic state of warfare, Russia and America side by side, or shoulder to shoulder would battle against the world. That, no doubt, has been Russia's opinion exactly. At the present time the partition sooner or later of China seems inevitable. All the European powers have their eyes trained on this vast empire, and are waiting only for a plausible opportunity to jump in and help themselves. Russia is among the foremost of these powers, and right there is where she wants the co-operation of America. If an alliance could be formed between these two nations, then with her own great armies and the civilizing and enlightening agiencies of America the success of her eastern conquests would be certain. Here is where Russia's present attitude toward the old Amer-ican colonies blends into that of the future. We can entertain no doubt but that her policy in the future will be the same that it has been in the past and present. No one can fail to see the immense opportunities and resources of Russia. From the fur-bearing re-wm THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 29 gions on the north to the tropical fruits of the south; from the grain fields and manufactories of the west over the platinum and gold fields of the Ural mountains to the mines oi Siberia, she is provided with all the necessaries of human life. No one can help but see the same wealth of America. Russia has seen and thought of this for years. If these two nations were united commercially and politically, what could they not do ? Let England become unruly. Then let Russia and America close their ports, and say to the rest of the world, "You close yours"—where would Eng-land be in forty-eight hours ? Think of a federation reaching from St. Petersburg to the Ural mountains, from the Ural mountains across the whole continent of Asia to Kamtchatka, from Kamt-chatka across Behring strait to Alaska, or directly aross the Pacific to San Francisco, and from San Francisco across America to New York ! Think of the possibilities of such a union ! And Russia has been thinking about them. She, with all her despotism, is shrewd and quick, and distinctly sees that it is to her advantage to maintain friendly relations with America. Such has been, is, and no doubt will be her attitude toward the old American colonies. As to the United States, nothing is less probable than such advances, but let us ever remember that in Russia we have a firm and ever loyal friend. THE PROPER CARE OF HUMAN LIFE /~\NE of the great mysteries in this world is that of life, and es- ^^ pecially human life. We are told that "God created man in His own image and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life.'' With this view of the origin of human life we have come to regard it as a divine gift placed into our hands for a definite period of time and conditioned upon a proper care and use of it. What constitutes a proper care of human life has never been universally agreed upon, but we believe that the human race is beginning to realize more and more the importance and necessity of a proper care. There are two important phases of this question; first, the care which each individual should have for his own life, and second, the care which he should have for the life of his fellow-men. Every human being shows his care for his own life by observ-ing the laws which pertain to the healthful condition of the body. 30 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Health is a priceless blessing. It is often called the greatest of blessings; and we are told that without it life has no worth. This language may be too strong, for we have seen those who, amidst infirmity and frequent illness, through force of intellect, and still more through religious principle, devout gratitude and trust, have found life a greater boon than the multitude of the strong and healthy ever dream of. Still, health is an inestimable good, and is essential to the full development and gratification of our powers. Without it life loses its bright charm, and gradually declines by m_vsterious decay. Without it human life falls far short of its true mission in this world. Health and disease are physical conditions upon which pleasure and pain, success and failure, depend. We may also safely consider what is known as self-defense against the violence of human hands, or the brutal attacks of wild beasts, or even the threatenings of the elements of nature as a part of the proper care for one's own life. The man who does not try to preserve his life when he is assaulted by his fellowruan without a cause, or when he is attacked by furious beasts, or when storms, floods, and fire threaten him, surely does not have much of a price set upon that mysterious gift from God. He cares little for his own life who goes through the world unconcerned as to what may befall him and regardless of the fact that he is created with the power and the necessary means for defending his life in very many instances. Then again, it must not be forgotten that there are circum-stances which require that human life must be given up. Our lives have an office for others, to help save and lift up humanity. Who are the men in whom human life seems to be manifested in its brightest glory, who appear best to have fulfilled its end ? They are those who have made the greatest sacrifices for truth, humanity, religion, patriotism and freedom. It is not to those who have watched over and kept their lives, but to those who have cheerfully given them away, that the tribute of reverence and joyful commemoration has been paid. This view of the proper care of human life may be implied in the teaching of Christ—"He that loses his life for my sake shall find it." This, however, re-fers more to the principle of unselfishness in general than to the sacrificing of life. We shall now consider the care which man should have for the life of his fellowmen. In all ages the individual has, in one form Hill! THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 31 or another, been trodden in the dust. In monarchies and aris-tocracies, he has been sacrificed to one or to the few, who, re-garding government as an heirloom in their families, and think-ing of the people as made only to live and die for their glory, have not dreamed that the sovereign power was designed to shield every man, without exception, from wrong. In the ancient republics, the glory of the state, especially conquest, was the end to which the individual was expected to offer himself a victim. It was the glory of the American people, that, in their Declaration of Inde-pendence, they took the ground of the indestructible rights of every human being, and in the Emancipation Proclamation they have given to the world the evidence that they meant what they declared. Indifference to human life is probably at its height in times of war. Such indifference was found in Napoleon when, for the amusement of some mistress of the night, he sacrificed fifty of his soldiers in an escalade which he knew to be positively futile for any military purpose, or in Abdul Hamid when, probably for no other reason than that he feared the downfall of his own power, he sanctioned the horrible massacres in Armenia, or even in our own Civil War, when thousands of men were carelessly sacrificed, both in the north and the south, for the sake of the military glory and fame of certain individuals. The sufferings and death of a single fellowbeing often excite a tender and active compassion, but we hear without emotion of thousands enduring every variety of woe in war. A single mur-der in peace thrills through our frames. The countless murders of war are heard as an amusing tale. The execution of a crimi-nal depresses the mind, and philanthropy is laboring to substitute milder punishments for death. But benevolence has hardly made an effort to snatch from sudden and untimely death the inumer-able victims immolated on the altar of war. Even to-day the voice of those, who forget that they have a care which pertains to the life of their fellowman, is heard in terms of reproach when we seek to avoid war. In most of these cases which I have mentioned there still ex-ist opinions which lead to either extreme. Like many other things of this nature it may be safest to say that the proper care for human life is the golden mean of these extremes. There are circumstances which demand that the right of self-defense be dis- TUrerr-T-T 32 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY placed by the willingness to give up life; that the rights and lib-erties of our fellowman be taken from him for the good of society; and that the government of a country must furnish some of its citizens as victims upon the altar of war, especially when it is car-ried on for the sake of bettering the conditions of the human race-s' EXCHAMGES TT is said that no two minds follow the same channel of thought. A We each have our likes and dislikes and what is attractive to one person may not have the least charm for another. A department entirely devoted to exchange work has recently been added to the MERCURY staff, and the editor takes this oppor-tunity to say that any criticism which may be given in this col-umn will be offered with perfect frankness but with not the slight-est intention of giving offense. We shall try to avoid useless and nonsensical "cutting," which has always reminded us very strongly of the proverbial "feline quarrel," but shall be ready to defend ourselves and our institution as best we can, if occasion demands. Among the exchanges which we have examined, we note the following: The Lafayette of February 8th contains an excellent article on fraternities. We agree with the writer throughout. If the sensi-ble ideas he expresses were followed, the membership of many fraternities would be smaller, but their moral character would undoubtedly be of a higher type. "His Professor" in the February Touchstone displays a bit of the real class-room spirit. The story is interesting and ends in a pleasant manner. The Lesbian Herald is a very welcome exchange—one which we enjoy thoroughly. Its appearance is unpretentious but at-tractive; its arrangement excellent; and its articles in general of a high type. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 33 We could wish that every person who tries to make puns would read the article "Puns and Punsters" in the February Mountaineer. We congratulate Allegheny College on her recent endowment of thirty thousand dollars for the purpose of building a chapel. Other exchanges to be acknowledged are: The Saint John's Collegian, The Western Maryland College Monthly, The Haver ford-ian. The Roanoke Collegian and The Ursimis College Bulletin. In men whom men condemn as ill I find so much of goodness still ; In men whom men pronounce divine I find so much of sin and blot, I hesitate to draw a line Between the two, where God has not. Burns and Byron—MmER. In battle or business, whatever the game, In law or in love, it is ever the same; In struggle for power, or the scramble for pelf, Let this be your motto: Rely on yourself! For whether the prize be a ribbon or throne, The victor is he who can "go it alone." -SAXB. c*p The very power that molds a tear And bids it trickle from its source, That power preserves the earth a sphere And guides the planets in their course. —ROGERS. uu> PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. C R. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG Our collection of Woolens for the coming- Fall and "Winter season cannot be surpassed for variety, attractive designs and g-eneral completeness. The latest styles of fashionable novelties in the most approved shades. Staples of exceptional merit, value and wearing durability. Also altering-, repairing, dj-eing and scouring at moderate prices. .FOR UP-TO-DATE. Clothing, Hats, Shoes, And Men's Furnishing- Goods, go to I. HALLEM'S MAMMOTH CLOTHING HOUSE, Chambersburg St., GETTYSBURG, PA. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President and Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON, I Superintendent. flummelstooin Bromn Stone Company Quarrymen and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonvllle, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Telegraph and Express Address. Cut Stone Work. BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. For a nice sweet loaf of Bread call on J. RAMER Baker of Bread and Fancy Cakes, GETTYSBURG. PA. EIMER & AMEND, Manufacturers and Importers of Chemicals and Chemical Apparatus 205, 207, 209 and 211 Third Avenue, Corner 18th Street NEW YORK. Finest Bohemian and German Glassware, Royal Berlin and Meissen Porcelain, Pure Hammered Platinum, Balances and Weights. Zeiss Mi-croscopes and Bacteriological Apparatus; Chemical Pure Acids and Assay Goods. SCOTT PAPER COMPANY MAKERS OF FINE TOILET PAPER 7th and Greenwood Ave. PHILADELPHIA -■ ■'■'■HI"!'" ! GETTYSBURG COLLEGE LIBRARY GETTYSBURG, \.

Edward C. Boyle ; The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, WeberState University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ; 68p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 video disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Edward C. Boyle Interviewed by Rebecca Ory Hernandez 9 November 2011 18 November 2011 Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Edward C. Boyle Interviewed by Rebecca Ory Hernandez 9 November 2011 18 November 2011 Copyright © 2012 by Weber State University, Stewart Library Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in the University Archives. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection includes interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, Weber State University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories date back to the early settlement of North Ogden, and cover various topics including the History of Fort Buenaventura, city government affairs, controversial issues, Latinos in Ogden, personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management University Archives All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Edward C. Boyle, an oral history by Rebecca Ory Hernandez, 9 November 2011 and 18 November 2011, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Edward Boyle Roswell, New Mexico 1943 Edward Boyle New York, 1984 1 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Edward C. (Ted) Boyle (b. 1922). The interview was conducted by Rebecca Ory Hernandez, on November 9, 2011. In this interview Ted speaks of his early life growing up and attending school in Ogden, Utah and later attending Weber State University. The interview also highlights his life after graduating from Weber State University and going on to graduate school at the Thunderbird School of Management. Ted also talks about his career in international banking with Citibank, traveling the world and working as a bank executive. Ted is retired and now lives in St. George, Utah with his wife Hazel. ROH: I'm going to state the date and where we are. Today is November 8, 2011. We're in the home of Ted and Hazel Boyle in St. George, Utah. We are here conducting an oral history. I'll just start by asking you to repeat your name and where and when you were born. EB: My name is Edward Conrad Boyle, commonly known as Ted Boyle. I was born in Ogden, Utah, August the tenth, 1922 in the Thomas D. Dee Hospital in Ogden, Utah. I picked up the nickname of Ted Boyle when I was a youngster which came from my Uncle Albert. He used to call me Theodore Roosevelt and Ted stuck with me all my life. I was socially known as Ted Boyle. ROH: You were born in Ogden. Where did you grow up? EB: I grew up in Ogden, Utah on the east side of Ogden, which at that time was at the outskirts of the city. It was at 1470 26th Street which was between Taylor and Polk Avenue and was an area which was basically low income people on the 2 north side of the street and people of means on the south side of the street. Our house was very small by today's standards—two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small kitchen, a dining room, a living room, and a small lot. My brother and sister and I and my mother and my father only had two bedrooms. So my brother and I slept in the unheated basement of our home in unfinished bedrooms with my mother's washing machine between us. My sister had one bedroom and my father and mother had the other bedroom. It had no garage in as much as my father never owned a car. He was one of the very few in Ogden who didn't have a car. My original concept of this house was that it was purely acceptable for us during those trying times which would be the Depression era of 1920s and 1930s. We got along as we could and stayed out of each other's way. My father who was a furniture salesman with Boyle Furniture Company in Ogden would actually walk two miles through all kinds of weather to save a five cent bus fare. Without a car we all depended on friends to get around to social activities. My mother had to walk three to four blocks and bring back her groceries. I remember that very distinctly. At the tender age of six, seven, and eight years old, I was unaware of the differences in the economic status of people on the block. As I grew older I learned to understand that we were on the wrong side of the track as far as the economic aspect of it. It didn't really bother me that we grew up near the poverty line. My father was a good provider. My mother was a wonderful cook. We ate the staples, cornmeal and mush in the morning and things of that nature. We had an icebox, a small cubicle to eat in 3 and I got by. I learned to accept what we had. I had one pair of shoes and one suit. I learned early in my life that I was not conventional in the sense that I had no feel for solving mechanical problems. I couldn't do anything but maybe change a light bulb. That carried through my whole life as my wife knows very well. I was just not like that. I was not allowed to have a house pet. All my friends had dogs but my father adamantly said no dogs. So I grew up in the neighborhood by adopting dogs in the area. My earliest recollections of my schooling in elementary school were at Polk School, which was a block away from our house. It was a very modern school of that time. There were eight grades and it was very convenient. However, during the heavy winter storms that we had in Ogden in those days, we had snow days where I couldn't even get to school because the snow was piled up so high. ROH: How did you get school? EB: We would try and get through these snow drifts but we were basically snowed in. We used to build snow igloos in my front yard. In my early days at Polk School I was a very average student. I thought I had a knack for numbers but when it came to social studies, math, and others, I had trouble. The teachers at that time—our principal was named Florence Brown. If we got out of order then, at that time, we were called in the office and she took out a ruler and hit us on the butt. Today, you know what would happen. But we accepted that. Our parents accepted that if Johnny was out of order he would pay the price. My earliest contact with the female species was in the third grade when we had all the boys 4 sitting on one side of the room and the girls on the other with a phonograph record playing dance music. The teachers would pair us off and we'd go out and try to dance with each other. It was a very strange feeling. Among those girls was Rosanne Peery. She was in the same class I was. I had no skills of any sort. We had a shop organization where we went down in the basement of the school and made wooden things. By hook and crook I made a sewing cabinet for my mother and had it shellacked and it was a pride and joy for me. As I walked up to my house I stopped at the neighbors place and his Labrador retriever went over and did his thing on my sewing cabinet. I was devastated. It didn't matter when I took it home to my mother. She said, "Oh, that's fine." I think that really must have been the only thing I ever created. ROH: How old do you think you were? EB: I was probably about ten years old I guess. In the school I was not physically adept towards contact sports which bothered me enormously because we were always rough housing and I was afraid to get in the middle of it. So I became a finesser, trying to find a sport where I didn't have the contact. I developed a very fine arm. I used to throw stones and I developed a very strong pitching arm, so I became successful in softball and things like that. Going back on Polk School— my late brother (who was five years older) at one time, on the third floor, opened a window and got a hold of the ropes on the flag pole and swung out one hundred feet off the ground before hitting the ground. That was the beginning of my brother being an ultimate dare devil. He was afraid of nothing. My dad loved Sundays as it was his only day off. He was not a church man. He would go out 5 and tend his garden which included all kinds of fruit trees. Then in the afternoon he would go down on the bus to the Orpheum Theater and see a movie, then come back home with a bag of popcorn for the family. My mother of course was in church. I was encouraged at that time to go to church on Sunday. ROH: What church did your family go to? EB: It was the LDS church at 26th and Jackson. At that time it was a six block walk for my mother in all kinds of weather. Our bishop was David Romney. I had a group of friends while growing up and among them was Jennings Olson. Jennings was a person whose handicap was a club foot. We all tried to put that out of our minds when we were playing baseball and things. Jennings was always full of vim and vigor. One thing I remember about him was that he did not like carbonated drinks. He always had to have something non-carbonated. I remember that he read voraciously. His father was a very good medical doctor in Ogden. His mother was a dear but rather homespun. We formed cliques. We had what we called the 26th Street Gang which was the street we lived on. We had about six or seven of us that used to play football in the street and then we'd go skating over bumps and things like that. It became the center of activity. We all grew up to bond. Those people in my early ages were the people that stood with me through the ages and today are still my best friends. It was a phenomenon that we all had the same interests and it was a matter of getting along without any money. We created our own fun outside of the theaters. For instance, on Saturday I would go down to my dad's office at Boyle Furniture and I'd say, "Dad, I want to go to the movie." So he'd give me twenty five cents. That twenty five 6 cents covered my bus fare down and back from the Paramount Theater, a bag of popcorn and I would sit in the front row as close as I could get for these cowboy movies because it was thought at that time, the closer you were to the action, the better off. I'd get out of there and I'd be blurry eyed. I couldn't see for five minutes when I got out of the theater. One thing that I do remember very vividly was Christmas. In Ogden, in the thirties, there were several department stores including the Emporium and Lowe's where they had Christmas displays with electric trains and everything like that. I used to spend hours looking at these various things and hoping against hope that we would be able to get something of that note. Christmas night my brother, my sister and I would go to bed early hoping that Santa Claus would get down the chimney. We had a chimney. I never did understand how he was going to get down through there. My mother put out the cookies with milk and we'd go to bed early and get up at four o'clock in the morning to sneak up the stairs and look and see what Santa Claus had brought. Quite often it was a bowl of hard candy and an orange, a piece of clothing and an inexpensive game. We kept hoping for a train set but we made the best we could. We survived. I became aligned with my closest friends that I loved. About the church— my mother was a devout Mormon. She would have been in the bishopric if they had allowed women. My father was a non-believer, a great man but did not actively participate. I was obliged by my mother every Sunday to go to church with my friends. We diligently went in and passed the sacrament and obeyed what we thought were the laws of the church until such time when I think I was 7 about sixteen or seventeen. The bishop came down the aisle and got me by the arm and said, "Ted. I think it's time for you to go on a mission." That shocked me. I think I just said, not negatively, but that I was not really interested at that time. My truest friends—all of them followed the same line of reckoning, so I wondered at this time, what was it? Was it peer pressure? We all had the same idea at that time that we were not going on missions. It was etched in stone. After we graduated from Polk School, I went to Central High School down at 26th Street and Monroe. Believe it or not, those two years are negative. I have nothing really factual that I can remember of any note. In other words they passed by me without any real essence of any happenings at all except the music instructor there said, "Ted, you've got a wonderful voice. You should go out and use that voice." I remembered that. So off we went to High School at dear old Ogden High School on 28th and Harrison. We were the third class and that's when I really grew up. It was a new atmosphere. The ambiance, the people, the teachers, the location all struck me as being something super. I guess you could say I was a jokester all my life and I got by with my wits. In other words, I was always cracking jokes and breaking up people. I became very popular and joined the social clubs there. I knew quite a few people. But I do remember something, this was pre-war, they had ROTC. It was officer's training school. We were obliged to go out on the campus and parade around for an hour and then after that they selected officers from our group to lead. These were the power makers. This bothered me enormously. I was not selected. I was a private. All my friends were colonels, majors, captains, etc. I was obliged to walk through 8 the ranks as a private. I thought, "Well, this may be my life. Maybe I'm not going to make anything out of it." But I did make some very good connections there. I loved the people there. Our actual basketball team were the state champions. We were honored in Salt Lake. We had, what I think Tom Brokaw would call the finest generation. I would consider that our class of 1940 was exceptional as far as the quality of the people and what they did and the environment we were living in. ROH: Can I ask you a question real quick? Tell me the names of some of your friends at Ogden High. Who were your best friends? EB: Jack Luddington, who I'll talk about incessantly. Jack Dalton, Bill Hinds, Jennings Olson, Richard Stine, Parry Thomas. Here's something that you want to wire in. Parry Thomas and I were very close and Parry Thomas probably was the leader of the pack, as far as what happened to the graduates. Parry became president of a prestigious bank in Las Vegas. He became a very big factor in banking in Las Vegas. Bob Bishoff who was president of I think the Commercial Security Bank and Maurice Richards, a prominent attorney. It was a time when Ogden was at its apex as far as producing people of culture with the ability to move on. One thing I noted that in our parking lot there were probably five or six cars of people that owned cars. You go by today and there's hundreds of them out there which is an indication of time and change. I still, at that time, had no real love connections. I think a lot had depended upon that my family had no car so I depended a lot on double dating and taking girls out like that. I had a lot of very close female friends but nothing serious at 9 all. I would go to the prom by myself and my friends would put my name down and I'd dance with their female partners. ROH: Did you call that stag? We always call that stag when you went by yourself. EB: Yeah, I went stag. I enjoyed the dance with other people's partners. I was awe stricken by the campus. It was so beautiful in 1940. It was constructed for less than one million dollars and one of the advisors to building was Meryl McClanahan whose son was Richard, a classmate of mine. After we graduated many people went their different ways and I went home and I said, "Where do I go from here?" I knew we had very limited means. I had no money myself. My dad couldn't afford anything. So Dad scratched up enough money for tuition for Weber Junior College. Quite a few of the students there were on short hook as far as money. The money class went to Utah or BYU. We arrived down on the campus of Weber College and it was very, very small in relationship to what I had pictured. The student body and my class were something like 180 people. We were in a war by that time so that meant that there were very few people around. I thought while I was there that I still wanted to be a forest ranger because of my likes of being outside, hunting and fishing at the cost of the government, and so that was my theory. I wanted to graduate from Weber College and then go on to Utah State where they had a forestry school. I became involved with the Excelsior Club, which was the premier social club. I made lots of friends. I think my personality lent itself to making friends. I was like a loose cannon. I always felt like I had to make light of anything and I think that was a big hit down there. 10 I became very close to [Henry] Aldous Dixon who was president of the College. His son, John Dixon, became Director of the University of Utah Medical Center. I made new friends. I found at that time that Ogden had a history of being a Mormon town. In other words, if you were Catholic, you were on the wrong side of the track. I had wanted to date a girl who was a Catholic. My mother found out about it and she had a fit. She was very down to earth and strong in her beliefs of the LDS Church. ROH: Did you have any friends who were African American? EB: Here we go. In the student body there was one black. His name was Willy Thomas and he was a huge, black, muscular athlete from Kansas. He was an outstanding track man and basketball player. He ran the hundred meter dash. I became very close to him out on track. I ran the track there, the mile run. I would joke with him and he would sometimes take it as offensive and then he'd say, "After I thought about you Ted." I was chuckling to myself. I became very close to him. Another example was Wat Misaka who was of Japanese origin and an excellent basketball player. He has been honored nationally. I became very close to him. At that early stage in my life it became apparent that I had no racial problems. I had made my point there at Weber College and found that later on in life, that's what often led on to what I did and where I went. Anyway, I took fond memories from Weber College. I thought that the beauty of that college at that time was the smallest of the class, the informalities, the attention from the seniors as to coming in to classrooms and talking to you. You felt like it was a family operation, totally family. It was a wonderful thing. 11 Aldous Dixon lived on campus in a small house right there. Later on when I went in to the war—my family would tell him what I was doing over there and he would write to my family and say Ted was going to be okay. I also liked the small classes at Weber. We had a lot of help from a very professional teaching staff. As an aside, I purchased an expensive oil painting of Farrell Collett who was once the head of the art department at Weber College. ROH: Nice. EB: Anyway, I always imagined myself as being an athlete. I had a very strong arm and I could throw the football farther than anybody on the football team but I was so fragile that I knew that once I was hit I was down. So I never did participate in football or basketball. But I was on the tennis team at Weber College. By the way, while I was in high school I was city champion in several contests there and I would ride down on my bicycle to Liberty Park, and I would have one racket with maybe a string broken. In one case, a prominent citizen would come up in his convertible in white shorts with a racket and the contrast was startling. I had a tremendous forehand but no backhand so I would always attack from my forehand and try and cover up my backhand. I was fairly successful because when I was younger I used to pound the back of our house constantly with a ball. That's where I developed my forehand and the serve was tremendous. But my backhand did not exist so I lived by playing around that. It was one of those things. As we progress along, the war was coming closer and closer so a group of us, after graduation from Weber College, decided to go to Utah State. Five of us 12 went to Logan and moved into in a house near the campus. We managed to survive. I joined the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity, which was a premier club. I was very comfortable on the campus. Then my dearest friend Jack Luddington, who I mentioned before, had been taking pilot training out at the old Ogden Airport, and he said, "Ted, things are closing in. The Air Force is having a meeting in Ogden for possible applicants to join the Air Force. Do you want to go along with me?" I said, "I don't know." Then he talked me into it. I said, "Yeah, we'll get drafted if we don't." So we went in there for the physical, I think I weighed 138 pounds. The Army Air Force medical guy said, "You don't qualify. You're too thin. But I want you in here. Go home and eat about three pounds of bananas and come back tomorrow. See if we can fudge you in there." Low and behold I gained a pound or two and he said, "You're in." My friend Luddington, who was not a genius either, as far as his ability to score well on tests, was the last one out of the class. He sat down and I said, "Come on Luddington." He finally made it and we both joined the Air Force and left Salt Lake City on the train for Santa Ana, California. We arrived and there were 20,000 cadets at our base. We were separated after we took the tests to find out what our abilities were. He was assigned as a potential pilot and I was assigned as a potential bombardier. So after we graduated from the base in Santa Ana I was assigned to Roswell, New Mexico which was a bombardier school. Jack went in to pilot training on the California coast. I arrived in Roswell and found that we were dealing with the Norden bomb sight which was highly prized by the German Air Force as being something they 13 would like to have in their power. So, while we were in training, we always had to carry a .45 revolver and treat the bomb sight as a most valuable item. We would practice bomb day and night. We were expected to drop the bomb in a five hundred foot circle from five miles high. The blue practice bombs had ninety-eight pounds of sand and two pounds of spotting powder. The Air Force kept washing out cadets. I would call my mother and say, "I'm still in here but the ranks are thinning." When I finished, I got a short leave to go home to Ogden and I showed off my wings. Then I was assigned to Hondo, Texas for navigational training. Hondo wasn't too far from Austin, Texas, where my Aunt Clara lived with her billionaire husband. She invited me to go up there on the weekends. She let me sleep late and she fed me well and I was in seventh heaven. After we were through with Hondo, we got our orders to form our strategic bomb group in Salt Lake City, at Kearns Army Base. I thought it was nice to be back near home for a few days. Our plane crew was made up of crewmen, pilot, copilot, bombardier, navigator, and six gunners. We named our plane 'Lassie and Her Lads' because we had a gorgeous spray painting of Betty Grable wearing a swim suit on the tail. We were a composite group of the Midwest and far West. We trained in Dyersburg, Tennessee. Then we moved on to West Palm Beach Florida for our final training. From there we got orders to go to Trinidad, West Indies. We flew by ourselves. The landing strip was in the jungle and we were in there overnight. The next day we took off for Belem, Brazil. We flew over the Brazilian forest for ten hours and I said to the navigator, "If we go down in 14 there, we're done for. They'll never find us." From an overnight in Belem we flew to Fortaleza, Brazil, which is on the tip of Brazil. The next stage was thirteen hours flying over the Atlantic Ocean. We took off at night. We were flying a thousand feet over the waves in order to save on fuel. I was in the nose, as usual, and we encountered St. Elmo's fire, which was an electrical discharge carried to our guns. I thought we were being fired on. It was phenomenal to see. We arrived in Dakar, Senegal in North Africa. That was an eye-opener. As we landed, a multitude of Senegalese warriors came out with guns and top hats and surrounded our plane in order to protect it. They put us in canvas tents and as we relaxed, the Senegalese came through with their spray guns for malaria and they sang as they went through and sprayed us. Our next stop was Marrakech, Morocco situated high in the Atlas Mountains of North Africa. We went into town to visit the markets and old French restaurants. Towards the evening we decided to visit the French Foreign Legion outpost in Marrakech. We asked the commander if we could watch their parade in the evening and he said we would be their guests of honor. That night we froze to death and slept in our plane. The next morning we got orders to go to Tunis, North Africa. We flew across the Sahara and landed at a deserted German Luftwafee air base that was used during the Montgomery and Rommel desert war. We visited the ancient aqueducts there and marveled at how they had been built. We also visited the ruins of various German Luftwafee planes and we were warned not to take anything because everything was booby trapped. 15 We received our combat orders and flew from Tunis to Foggia, Italy and landed at a deserted air field that had been occupied by the German Luftwafee. We went to our canvas tent and proceeded to locate the mess hall. We thought the food was not very tasteful, so we bartered our provisions for local products such as fresh eggs. Our group was the 463rd bombardment group commanded by Colonel Frank Kurtz, who went back in history to the invasion of the Philippines by the Japanese. His airfield was attacked by Japanese bombers and several of the American B-17 bombers were split in half. They put one piece of a bomber into another and called it the Swoose—half swan, half goose. Colonel Kurtz was the chief pilot of that plane, which is presently being restored in the United States. We got settled into our base and our first mission was what we called a 'milk run.' That was to indoctrinate one without fear of major casualties. As the bombing missions progressed, they became more deadly and losses mounted. Then it became one of marking down. You had to make fifty missions as related to a loss of three to four percent of the planes each time we went out. As the missions increased in intensity, we finally came to a mission where the target was Ploesti, Romania. For the Germans, the Ploesti oil fields were a source of oil for their entire military operation. It was heavily guarded by flak guns and F-190s and ME-109s. They were the elites of the German Air Force. When we found out we were going to Ploesti, everyone sighed, had their breakfast, went out to put in their bomb load, and proceeded to taxi out to the runway. 16 By the way, the air fields were metal strips, not cement, and the B-17 loaded with 6,000 pounds of bombs, 2700 gallons of high-octane gasoline, does not get off the ground very quickly. At the end of the runway there was a fence. I was in the nose of the plane and remarked to the navigator, "This plane's not going fast enough to get off the ground." Finally we cleared it by about a hundred yards and went up into our formation at 15,000 feet. Over the Adriatic Sea, everyone discharged their machine guns to make sure they were firing. Then we went over the Yugoslavian Alps. The Yugoslavians were not allies at that time and they had flak guns mounted on top of the mountains. They shot at us, but weren't very effective as they didn't have advanced radar. We flew into our target area and our escort fighters, which were P-38s and P-47s peeled off because they were short of fuel and headed back to their base. They left us unescorted as we approached the target area. There were three or four hundred planes forming a line at what was called, the 'initial point.' This enabled German aircraft guns to zero in on our direction and altitude. I took command of the plane, flying it as we approached the target area. As we neared the target area we saw a huge black cloud box where all the German flak guns were concentrated. I saw planes going through that box and going down on fire and we knew we were next. It was very trying and tested ones fortitutde to the maximum. As we approached closer to the target, I cranked in the airspeed, the velocity, the wind, and other data into the bomb sight. The two indices cross and you know you're on target. I'm watching carefully and finally the indices cross 17 and I say, "Bombs away." The bombs are released and we turn away with planes on fire on both sides of us. As we left the target, if any of the planes in our formation had an engine out and they trailed the pack, they were attacked incessantly. You had to keep a tight diamond formation with seven planes, which also gave you more firing power against the enemy. So as we came away from the target and headed back, we were still alive. Then we started talking about if we had enough fuel to get home. As we neared the Adriatic coast, we started planning whether we were going to make it or whether we were going to ditch. We'd all had training as far as what to do. We finally arrived in the vicinity of the airfield and landed. We were interrogated and had our hot chocolates and donuts and tried to unwind. In another mission, we lost all of our commanding officers and crew in a mid-air collision caused by cloud coverage. In another occasion after takeoff to return to base, we had instructions that the mission was aborted. Our chief pilot, who was later a noted neurologist from Boise, Idaho, turned to our copilot and said, "Why don't you handle this landing." We turned towards the runway and I noted there was a crosswind and the copilot wasn't factoring that in. As we approached the runway, I said, "We're in trouble." We hit on the left landing gear and bounced about fifty feet up in the air and came down with the engines chopping up the runway—with 6,000 pounds of bombs and 2,700 gallons of fuel. I said, "I'm dead." We slid for about five hundred yards and the minute we stopped I yelled for everyone to get out and I ran for about a half a mile and dropped down and covered my head. For some time the rescue crew wouldn't 18 get near the plane to deactivate the bomb load. I don't know why that plane didn't explode. [photo included] ROH: Let's pick up where we left off with World War II. You had survived a crash landing. You said it took a long time before anyone would go near it. EB: Gas was pouring out over the engines and the bombs were banging against each other. We stayed away for a long time and then the emergency crew hosed it down to cool it off. ROH: Did they send you on vacation after that? EB: No, the policy was that you could fly twenty-five missions and then you could take a week off and go to the Isle of Capri near Naples to unwind. My theory was that I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible so I didn't take the vacations. I flew my missions because I wanted to get back to the States. The B-17s flew between twenty and twenty-seven thousand feet. It was thirty degrees below zero—freezing. Non-pressurized cabins. Ice formed down the face of your gear. No relief tubes. We had flak suits on and our parachutes hooked on one side, then we had a helmet. It made it very hard for us to move around. On another mission, we had a misfire in the bomb bay as two bombs had banged together and did not detach. The pilot said, "Boyle, get back there and release those bombs before they blow up." In the B-17, between the front part of the plane, the bomb bay, and the back, was a rail and two supports. As I walked over it, I was looking down at the Mediterranean from 25,000 feet and holding on to a rail with one hand. I was trying to release the catch for the bomb that was 19 swinging against the plane. I managed to unhook the bomb and made a silent prayer as I returned to the nose of the plane. It was a terrible thing to fly eight hours on total oxygen at very low temperatures. It was bitterly cold. After a mission, the Red Cross would be there waiting for us with donuts and hot chocolate, then we'd be interviewed about the mission immediately. As the missions went on, I would write letters. I have over a hundred letters that I wrote to my mother that she kept. I began to wonder if I was going to make it or not. On my fiftieth mission I was flying with another Utahn, Clyde Hart, and he knew it was my fiftieth mission. When we landed, I got out of the plane and kissed the ground. Before that, on a raid over northern Italy, we had some terrible problems from damage to the plane. I managed to get the bombs on target and two weeks later I was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. After my fiftieth mission, I said, "I've done it!" We got ready to depart and the fifteenth Air Force came out with a memorandum saying, "Unfortunately, we have a shortage of flight crews, so you can have thirty days' leave in the United States, then come back and serve another fifty missions." I wrote to my mother and said that was a death sentence, I would never come back. Fortunately, they reversed that. I left Naples on a troop ship on July 26. We were in the upper part of the boat and on the decks they had thousands of people who were fleeing France and Italy. They had no place to sleep, so they slept on the deck. We were in a convoy surrounded by destroyers, but we had reports of submarines in the 20 area, so we were dropping death charges. That was scary. We arrived in New York. I took a train from New York to my home in Ogden. My first few nights in my family home, I would wake up screaming. I hadn't unwound yet. I would try to find ways and means of winding down. After resting at home, we were sent to a camp in Santa Monica to continue to decompress. My combat days were over, thank the Lord. I was assigned to San Antonio Air Base, and then I spent a series of time moving from one air base to another. I kept in mind that I might be called to duty again. I applied for pilot training in the Air Force and I was accepted. I was assigned to Thunderbird Field in Phoenix, Arizona. The field was also occupied by Chinese cadets who thought nothing of flying into you or on top of you because they had no reason for flying etiquette. In that area of Arizona, there are always hot air drafts. After I had gotten to the point where I was flying solo, I was landing the plane and unbeknownst to me, the pocket of hot air was pushing the plane up and I didn't compensate for that factor. I pancaked and spun around on the landing strip. Thankfully, I wasn't hurt. Immediately I went on a flight check. The instructor, a pilot named Carl Thigpen said, "Ted, you're a good pilot, it's unfortunate you've painted yourself into a corner." They washed me out of the program. I eventually ended up in Denver, Colorado where I was released from the Army-Air Force. ROH: Did your older brother serve as well? EB: No, he had a medical problem. He was a dare-devil—totally different than I am. He parachuted out of a plane in Ogden in 1934 at the age of seventeen. It was a 21 high school bet with his friends. The owner of the airport told him he had to have his father's permission, so Billy called our dad and said, "Dad, I'm going to jump out of a plane, you have to give permission." We sat on the front porch and watched this biplane circling up and then a parachute drop. He became a champion ski jumper in the 1930s. He became an expert on Ecker Hill which was adjacent to Park City. It was a humungous, steep hill, and it attracted a bevy of Norwegian ski jumpers. They formed a cartel and would have jumping contests. My dad and I would go to watch my brother jump. He did exceptionally well at that. After that, he went to California and raced cars. He had no fear at all. That was his life. Later, he became a dreamer. He got into real estate and everything was going to be a million dollars. He was an alcoholic. He became an advisor in Santa Monica for a bevy of movie stars and famous people who would call him at two o'clock in the morning, "Billy, I got a problem." He never quite made it financially. He was always engrossed and saying, "I just got to get this guy to sign this and then I've got it made." It was always touch-and-go with Billy. We were very different. ROH: Did he write to you while you were gone? EB: I've got a ton of letters. Hazel and I are always wondering about who's going to give a hoot about these letters after we're gone. Billy was a great personality. He could walk into a place and immediately have people around him. He eventually ended up in a nursing home in Santa Monica and Hazel and I would go diligently and take him milkshakes and candy bars. The next day he would say that people 22 had stolen them from him. I said to Hazel, "Now that I've seen this in my brother, when it comes time for me, I'm heading for the hills with a Pepsi." It taught me a lesson in assisted living. He was my protector when I was young. My sister was a beauty queen from the get go. She did modeling in Salt Lake City and she was a prom queen. She married well—Ed Haas who was one of the producers of "The Munsters." She traveled in high style in Santa Monica with him. We had the same experience with her in assisted living that we had with my brother. ROH: So none of you worked in the Boyle furniture store? EB: This is fun. I thought from day one that I was going to be selling furniture for the rest of my life. I worked in Boyles as a delivery boy and not withstanding my frail structure, they put me on a delivery truck to haul stoves to second floor premises. Then I handled the store elevator covering three stories which didn't have an automatic stop. During the Christmas season we'd have a pile of customers on the third floor and I'd try to judge where the first floor was and end up sliding clear to the bottom and have to go back up again. HB: You'd better start telling her what happened to change your life. EB: I haven't got that far yet. Anyways, after I got out of the war, I was twenty-three and I was looking for companionship. I had bought a car during the war for my family, who had never had one. I met a girl and we had a relationship. Her name was Gloria and her dad was the music instructor at Weber College. Things were progressing. I was an avid skier and we were in Snow Basin and I told her she 23 needed to learn to ski faster and she went down and fell and broke her leg. Things went from bad to worse after that. Another day, I was at Snow Basin skiing by myself. I was the last man on the hill. The ski patrol had gone and I wanted to do one more run. On the way down, I fell and spun around and stopped near where the gate was. I got up and decided I was okay, so I was going to do another run. Remember, there was nobody on the hill. I got on the ski lift and about half way up, my left knee started to hurt so bad I couldn't stand it. I rolled off the lift at the top. It was dark. I zigzagged my way down the hill, sitting down all the way. It took me an hour to get down. I went to the doctor and found out I'd blown all the tendons in my knee. I had my knee in a cast and I was the house boy at the Pi Phi house in Salt Lake. I was living in the basement with about thirty Pi Phi's as residents; one of them being my sister. I got all the dirt about what had happened on dates—the girls would sit at the kitchen table talking about their dates as if I didn't exist. One day a group of young men in the lounge were talking about the Thunderbird school in Glendale, Arizona. I thought, "Wow. That sounds good." So I made an application to enroll. I was accepted—I still had my leg in a cast. I set out for Phoenix by myself in the winter with my left leg in a cast. I got near Cedar City and it was black ice and I skidded off the road and tipped over in a ditch. This was 6:00 in the morning. I got out and hobbled down the road to an all-night café. There were several patrons in the bar who offered me a drink before they went out to put my car back on the road. I arrived to Thunderbird school and decided I wanted to live abroad and work for an international company. 24 I decided I needed to work on my command of the Spanish language. My friend and I traveled to a small university in Morelia, Mexico. We lived rather sparingly with a Mexican family. After studies in Spanish, it came time to go home. We had practically nothing in our pockets, so we boarded a bus to Guadalajara. There were more chickens than people on the bus. In Guadalajara, we had no money for a hotel, so we went to a flop house that had a hundred beds or so. Bill and I went in and paid and we agreed that one would sleep and the other would stay awake because someone might assault us if we were both asleep. We had to go third class on the train to Nogales, Mexico. That was a laugh because it was full of immigrants heading to the United States and they were all pretty liquored up. We had no money for food, so when the train would stop, we'd get a stock of bananas. We were on the train three days and all we ate was bananas. Close to the border, we got off the train. Bill left his U.S. passport on the seat and had it stolen. Going through customs in Nogales, Bill went to jail because he didn't have a passport. Then they put me in jail because my passport, when we'd gone into Mexico with friends, had been stamped that I had brought a car into the country. So I was put in jail until they called the owner of the car and verified that the car was in Mexico City. I don't remember how Bill got out of jail. That was a journey never to be forgotten. After we graduated from Thunderbird—the beauty of the school, is that the people who hire, came to campus. I was prepping to get a job with Sears Roebuck. A friend of mine had scheduled a meeting with a Citibank officer from New York. When Citibank found out my friend was married, they said no. My 25 friend said to me, "Ted, why don't you interview in my place?" I asked for an interview and the first question their man from New York—Gordon Bullock— asked was, "Why do you want to go to Latin America?" I said, "I have an uncle who runs the largest sugar cane factory in Puerto Rico and if you hire me, I think I can get the account." I made it up off the top of my head on the spot. [Laughter] I walked off to get ready for Sears Roebuck and a week later I got a telegram saying Citibank had accepted me. They had to write for references. Not far from me lived two very powerful lawyers, George Lowe and Roy Thatcher. They wrote letters to Citibank. Then I asked my dad, "Dad, I'm at a crossroads here. I don't know anything about Citibank." My dad said, "Ted, the only people who are important in Ogden are doctors, lawyers, and bankers. Go for it." I accepted Citibank and said goodbye to Ogden. I got on a train to New York and went to the YMCA with the other trainees. I stayed seven days in New York and they shipped me off to San Juan, Puerto Rico. San Juan was our training base for South America. The people there were very friendly, we practiced our Spanish, and we learned about banking—that including carrying the golf bag for the managers when they went golfing. My family came to see me. They had never been out of Ogden, Utah. My mother has a diary of everything that happened. She even wrote about my dad listening to the motors on the plane. We had a lovely time. I think that was the biggest thing to ever happen to them in their lives. As it came time to depart from San Juan, they told us, "You trainees have three choices, you can go to Havana, Cuba," which was pre-Castro, which was a 26 great place, "or you can go to Mexico City," which was number one, or Bogota, Colombia. I'd never heard of Bogota, Colombia. For some unknown reason, I chose Bogota. I arrived in Bogota at 8,600 feet in altitude. It rains about every other day. It's in the top of the Andes with ancient Indian culture all around it. I settled into an apartment with another trainee and we lived the buena vida—the good life. He was a football player from Ohio State named John Mack—a very joyful guy who would fit in any crowd. We played fifty-four holes of golf in one day. We had a great time. We dropped golf balls out of the windows to watch them bounce on cars and roll down the street. A friend who liked to drink went out and got locked up and couldn't find a way home. The police called the wife of the other man with him and asked if she wanted to come down and bail him out. She said, "Hell no. Leave him in there." She was furious. Anyway, we had a wonderful time. Our chief officers at the bank were Boice Nourse and Juan Sanchez, a Castilian from Spain. It was just idyllic. We would play Liars Dice at the Anglo- American club and whoever lost would pay for lunch. We'd play against the manager and he wasn't very good at concealing his thoughts, so we got a lot of free lunches. We used to have vacations—we would get three months off after every two years and they'd put us on the Grace Lines ships to go up to New York. I'd go back to home in Ogden and I'd bought a car—my original car was a 1942 Chrysler Sedan that I'd bought during the war, then I bought another that I think was a Ford. Back in Ogden, I reunited with my old friends but I felt like I was out of place with them. In the interim period, I was doing well in the bank and 27 learning about the theory of banking. Citibank was the world leader in international banking. We worked with governments and with major organzations and their subsidiaries. We were not oriented towards individual banking. We worked with big-ticket items. In one of my trips North, I met a young lady from New York City, who was on the cruise with her mother. We became involved and were engaged when I went back to Bogota. One day I was working on the bank platform in Bogota and this young woman walked in and stopped the music. She walked down that platform with her gorgeous black hair and I thought this was the girl of my life. I hadn't even met her. When she walked in, I just thought, "Where have you been all my life?" ROH: What year was that? EB: That was about 1951. We dated about eight months. The bank had a policy that you could not date employees and I was engaged. I had a dilemma. I talked to my general manager, Boice Nourse and he said, "Ted, we'll make an exception as long as you play the rules of the game." Hazel loved peach melbas, so I asked her out to get one with me. I kind of dallied around. Finally I went out to meet her parents and find out if they were willing to let her date me. To the very strict in Latin America, this is how you go about dating. When her father saw that we were getting serious, he wrote the State Department to find out if I was married. He was worried about the Mormon religion and if a polygamist might be after his daughter. 28 Hazel and I started dating and I was in seventh heaven. I couldn't believe it because of the age difference. But we dated and then I got really sick. We had an idiot bank doctor and I went to him and said I didn't feel good. He said, "Do you chew gum?" I said yes. He said, "Then stop chewing gum." Well, I got worse and I started turning yellow. Hazel got worried and I went to another doctor. He said I had Hepatitis and he wanted me in bed resting immediately. I was in bed for three months. All I can remember of the treatment was that I ate a lot of hard candy because the doctor wanted to build up the sugar in my body. I had written to my fiancé in New York and told her that things had changed. She showed up in Colombia. The bank was having a big party and I ended up with Hazel and my fiancé in the same room. I just about died. I said to myself, "What have I done to deserve this?" I managed to make it through the night. I made the break with my fiancé and she went back to New York. Hazel's dad came over all the time while I was sick. He taught me to play bridge and he spent a lot of time with me. I think he was trying to make sure that this thing was real. His name was Edward Pierce Roskruge. Let me interrupt here to say that Hazel's biological father was German who I think was connected with the Colombian Air Force. When the world war came, he was called to duty back in Germany. Then Edward Pierce Roskruge married Hazel's mother. He was a wonderful Englishman and always very correct. I fell in love with him right away. He was there when I needed him. Anyways, so I managed to get out of bed to get married. We had the wedding in her house with a Catholic priest. It went well but Hazel had an affinity 29 for dolls. She had a huge doll she loved that she wanted to take with her as we were packing for the airport. I said, "No way, you're not taking that doll on that plane." ROH: How old were you two when you got married? EB: That was 1952. I was thirty years old and Hazel was seventeen. Anyways, we got to Barranquilla, which is a seaport at the head of the Magdalena River. Hazel took to married life with vim and vigor. She learned how to cook. She was a wonderful hostess. People there loved her. She became very active in the American Woman's Society. At that time, we made a lot of friends in Barranquilla. They had an international golf tournament one year and one of the players was a young man named Arnold Palmer. We were privileged to meet him and have drinks with him. That was the beginning of his career. My mother and father came to Barranquilla to visit over Christmas and that was a real treat for them. At those times, I rode the city bus. We didn't have enough money to buy a car. At one point, we were in dire circumstances financially. Hazel's father had given her a very expensive bracelet with gold in it and unbeknownst to me, she went to a pawn shop and sold it. When I found out, we went back to get it but it was gone. It was tough in the early days, but it was a learning process. My supervisor was from Brooklyn and from the old school. He was very gruff. He and I had several personality clashes. He would say, "This is the way we're going to do it." But I had a feeling that my ideas were better. When we got to the point where we didn't get along, I would go take a walk around the block 30 and then come back and sit down. He knew what he was doing but he did it with the old style. He hadn't arrived into the twentieth century. Among the American counselors was a gentleman named Harry Shlaudeman, who was a vice council and a super golfer from Pasadena, California. Harry, through his career, became the right-hand man for Henry Kissinger in Washington. The head American council was an elderly Scotsman who loved golf. One morning we were alerted that he was missing. We looked for him for three days and eventually he showed up and said, "I just fell asleep." We really enjoyed life there. When it came time to start a family, I witnessed the birth of our first daughter, Sharon Elizabeth. Everyone said she was beautiful just like her mother. Our second daughter, Linda Kay, was born in Cali. We almost lost her but she survived. When it came time for us to move to Cali, Columbia, I had the title of Pro-Manager. It sounds better than it was. I had been a sub-accountant. ROH: Why did they call you a sub-accountant? EB: It was something to show that one was just starting a banking career. We got our orders to go to Cali, Colombia. Cali was a wonderful place and we settled into a very nice house and I became the second in command there. I eventually became manager of that branch, which was a big success. We were very prominent there. I was president of the American Men's Society and Hazel was president of the American Women's Society. ROH: Tell me a little about these societies. 31 EB: It was a consortium of Americans who were working abroad and assigned to Cali. It was similar to a Kiwanis Club. The Americans and some prominent Colombians worked together to promote service activities to the community. Cali was the a center for the production of sugar cane, which is a major source of income for the Colombian government. We also had many pharmaceuticals plants, Quaker Oats and other multi national companies. Political unrest and local violence were causes of concern. In one instance, we had gone to a cocktail party at the American councilor's home and when Hazel and I got back in the car, I said, "Oh, it's drafty." Then I realized someone had removed the entire front windshield of the car. After that we would go down to an automotive spare parts store and see our windshield and buy it back. It was petty thievery. Another thing was if you were driving in thick traffic and had your arm out the window thieves would take your watch off your wrist. Cali was in an earthquake fault zone. One night I heard this thunder like a train approaching the house. It was a tremendous noise and the house was shaking badly and shook for about two or three minutes. It was a major earthquake and there was a lot of property damage in Cali. The next day we had big cracks in the masonry of the house. We were very fortunate in the banking industry to deal with high class business houses and individuals. We also had banking relationships with the Colombian government. There were very little dealings with individuals. Kim, our third daughter was born in Cali. I never questioned the superb quality of medical facilities in Colombia. So, our third daughter arrived and I'd 32 send telegraphs to my mother and father, "I've got another queen in the family." The girls went to the American schools in Cali. All of my daughters had dual nationalities, Colombian-United States of American, until they were twenty one. They were brought up strictly by their mother in the Catholic Church. From Cali we were transferred to Medellin. People associate Medellin as the center of the narcotic industry in Colombia. At that time there were no problems with narcotic trade. The only political parties were liberals and conservatives. There was a fierce political battle which was a concern. We had problems with rioters in the street in Cali. We had to close the branch because people were being shot in the street. Castro arrived with Che Guevara in Bogota and from that sprung out these problems with peasants up in the mountains who were ill-prepared to make a decision. They entered the Colombian political system of 1949 in addition to the conservatives and the liberals. It was a problem if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. There were instances when it was rather dicey to go certain places. An uprising would happen overnight and you would get caught unawares. But I do want to add that in Colombia, bull fighting was famous as it was in Spain. Bogota was very much connected to Spain. We still have films of bull fighting. My career was blossoming. I had been named manager of the branch, which was a major move. ROH: Can you give me an idea of the size of the branch? EB: I had over a hundred employees. The currency was pesos. When I arrived, the peso was at par with the dollar—if you had a peso, you had a dollar. When I left, 33 the peso was something like two cents to the dollar. It completely devalued. Much like what is happening in the United States right now, the government's economic policies were off-key. By the way, coffee represented a major portion of their exports and they lived off that, but they had almost every major natural resource but they lacked the funds to develop. They were passed by other world countries that didn't want to put money into Colombia at that time. So, the economics at times got out of balance at times. The Brazilian coffee was a lesser quality. The Colombian coffee was called "mam"; which meant "Medellin, Armenia, Manizales." That's the high grown coffee; the higher the area it grows the more valuable it is because it matures slower. Medellin was my next step. It was a larger area and more responsibility. It was the center of textiles for most of South America. Again, we were very favorably invited to join the community there. It was group of outstanding people we were associating with—both the Americans and Colombians. The manager of Citibank was on par with the American consul, as far as prominence, in any city we were in. So we were always on the top of the list as far as invitees for whatever might be going on. In Medellin, we had the fourth addition to our family. Sarah was born premature and it was almost a tragedy. The hospital there took such great care of her. There wasn't a minute when there wasn't a nurse there looking after her. That was our family. After our fourth daughter, I said, "That's it. I'm surrounded by women." But anyway, I think being in the international banking circle, you're dealing with people who are intelligent and sociable, usually the moneyed class. It was a 34 wonderful world. It encouraged you to step up and be a part of it. We dearly loved that. The one major incident when I took my life in hands was when I bought a car in Bogota. The individual had a late-model car for sale and I had to fly to Bogota to get it. My boss said, "What are you doing?" I said I was going to drive it back to Medellin. He said, "You're crazy." The road from Bogota to Medellin was undeveloped and had very few facilities. At that time, there were uprisings with the natives attacking buses, dragging people out and cutting their heads off. They called it "Corte de Franela." There were several massacres in that area. That was in the back of my mind, but I said I'd travel at night while they were asleep. So I left Bogota all by myself. I drove maybe seven or eight hours through areas where I saw nothing except a paved road. It was eerie and I kept thinking, "What am I doing?" I arrived in Medellin at about 5:00 in the morning. Hazel was thrilled that I made it. It was an idiotic thing for me to do. EB: Eventually, we sold that car and got a good price for it. Hazel was driving it about three days before we sold it and there was a truck parked with a piece of lumber sticking out of it. She went too close and the lumber went right through the front windshield and all the way back. She was okay. I went to the guy I sold it to and I was really upset. He said, "Don't worry. I can get a new one from Miami." We got a lot of letters from corporations saying thank you for the attention and help I'd given them as they got started in their business. I was on the board of directors of companies where we were involved in Medellin and Cali. They 35 wanted a local director with banking experience on their boards. They'd send the Chairman of the Board down to Colombia and I'd take him golfing. In Medellin, we were honored as a well-managed branch. I got letters saying that and that helped my career. I was a stickler for details and communication. ROH: Did you travel back to the states as part of your work? EB: No, we very seldom would go back to New York when we were in a foreign branch. Except when we were on furlough, I would normally spend a week or so in New York on my way to vacation. Hazel would take the children while I was in New York. I don't know how she did it—traveling with four young kids. She was a marvel. There was a group of expatriates in Medellin who ended up in Fort Lauderdale, Florida after their careers in Colombia ended. There seemed to be an exodus of American workers in Colombia going to Florida after. It had a Latin complex in Florida, and the weather was similar. After Medellin, I got a promotion and orders to go to San Salvador, Central America to be the manager of a huge branch there. They didn't have a house for us when we arrived, so we had the privilege of staying in a very high class hotel for about three months. That was a good life for Hazel. She didn't have to cook or anything like that. In El Salvador we had a problem with earthquakes. El Salvador lies right on a fault line. We had several earthquakes while we were there. Anyway, I was second in command at the branch in El Salvador. Our major clients there were coffee exporters, almost entirely. Then we also dealt with the Salvadorian government directly. We were on intimate terms with the president of El 36 Salvador. The ambassador to El Salvador was a gentleman from Phoenix, Arizona and his last name was Castro. He looked like a Mexican bandolero— black hair, moustache, had a gorgeous blond wife. He would call the American business leaders to a meeting on Wednesday and he wanted all the information he could get about what was happening so that he could report back to Washington. I was president of the American school there. We had Joe Borgatti, who was an innovative vice president. He did a lot of things of which nobody had ever heard. Nobody at CitiBank, at that time, had the privilege of having an airplane available to the chief officers. Joe said to them, "I'm in charge of Central America—Honduras, Guatemala, Nicaragua, Panama, and so forth. I want to get a plane." So we got a push-pull. It's a plane that has a propeller in the front and one in the back. One of the things I organized down there was a league of soccer teams. Citibank was the champion of the tournament. Two things while we were there. One was when President Lyndon B. Johnson was trying to form better relations with Latin America. They decided they were going to have a big meeting in San Salvador and invite the heads of state from Central American countries. Citibank was encouraged to be a part of this meeting. The Mexican embassy said that Johnson liked cuff links with coins from the country he was visiting, so I was assigned to get to the local jewelry store and get some coins that were delivered to him. We were part of the big entourage. We met the President and his wife and the two daughters. 37 The other thing that happened in San Salvador was the Chairman of our Board, George Moore, who was a genius in my estimation. He decided to come down with his wife, who was from a very prominent Mexican family. She was not very sociable. We decked out his room with flowers and when he walked in, he said, "Is this for my funeral?" He had all of the young, gung-ho businessmen in San Salvador come to the swimming pool at 6:00 in the morning and swim with him. Then he would have breakfast with them and talk about business. Hazel was in charge of a party for his wife. Hazel carried it off perfectly. The two big events were that we were going to take them around in our plane and show them Honduras. The plane was small and Mrs. Moore was rather large, so when we went to get on the plane, she said, "George, you think I'm going to get on that plane? Never." She walked off. We had to run around and get a commercial plane to take them. The crowning event was a party on an island resort owned by the coffee barons. I happened to be walking along the path and Mrs. Moore crossed in front of me and she wanted to sit down. I suggested she sit in a hammock. Well, she got in the hammock and it broke. She's on the ground and said, "Don't touch me." I said, "I'm going to get fired whatever I do." I didn't dare touch her. She rolled off and dusted herself off. One of our prominent clients was elderly but liked to fly. He flew his own plane over there, but the weather worsened. He insisted he was going to fly back to the air base. His son told him not to so he took off unbeknownst to them. He took off into the clouds and got lost. The Salvadorian air force had to find him and guide him down. 38 There was a war of sorts between Colombian and Honduras. They called it the "soccer war." They got very serious about soccer. I think the end result was a Honduran plane dropped a bomb in the ocean near a port city. There was no actual exchange, but there were a lot of words. The president of the country would ride around on a motorcycle; he was very flamboyant. He would come to our office like that. But the people we dealt with were delightful. Most had made their money exporting coffee. We carried a lot of memories out of that. A lot of our clients were from the moneyed class and they didn't want to deal with Salvadorians or Hondurans or Colombians for tax reasons, so they wanted to confide in us. We were an intermediary. ROH: How long were you in El Salvador? EB: Three years. I was the manager and we had about twelve officers reporting to me. ROH: Did you have the young rookie kids like you coming up through the ranks? EB: We had people who were doing what I was—coming up through the ranks just two steps behind me. We always had trainees or American staff. Then they decided that I needed to go back to the domestic side, so we packed up and ended up in Wilton, Connecticut. The agent who sold us the house was married to a man who was a Citibank manager. We had minimal funds to invest; I still was not making any money. But we let her take us around to see houses. This was 1965 or 1966. She asked how much money I had and I said I had about $46,000. So she started showing block houses to Hazel. Hazel didn't like them. Nora said she had another that might be available. It was a two-story colonial 39 home with two acres of woodland with an immaculate four bedrooms. It was everything you'd ever want. Hazel wanted it. Nora said it was out of our price range. Hazel said, "That's my house." We managed to get that house in the low-forties. It was idyllic. In Wilton, I commuted on the New Haven railroad for five years. I think it was from 1968 to 1973. I was working in our head office in what we called the Overseas Unit for Individual Banking. People from all over the world would come in and want to talk about their money in Liberia and Japan, and so on. I worked in that area during those years. Wilton was a wonderful area. The highlights there were two intercontinental trips from Wilton, Connecticut to Long Beach, California in a station wagon. Those trips were classic. I told the girls that they'd seen the United States from thirty-thousand feet but that they hadn't really seen it. Well, we got into the station wagon, loaded to the gills, with the four girls in the back trying to get comfortable. We'd go from one stop to another and see things along the way. We always stopped at the Holiday Inns and the girls went straight to the pool. We traversed the country and saw everything. The girls saw America and it was a great growing-up experience. My parents lived near Long Beach and whenever we went there, we went to Disneyland. The cross-country trips were invaluable. I kept them on their toes with games like, "First one to see a white horse or a yellow Volkswagen gets five cents." It was something that created memories. All of them talk about it. One memorable trip, our youngest, Sarah, was about five or six years old. We 40 stopped for gas and drove off and we were a mile away when we realized we'd left her. Nobody had counted noses. We got back and she was crying. It was one of those things. Hazel and I fell in love with Disneyland, too. On our fiftieth anniversary, we all went to Disneyland and they bought two blocks with our names on them in the area where they sell your name and it's there for eternity. ROH: When did your parents move to Long Beach? EB: After I left home. My dad had several close friends who had moved to Long Beach. Dad became an avid golfer at sixty-five and played almost until his death. My brother had lived there most of his life. My sister did very well there. Those trips across country were something else. The girls graduated from Wilton High School. Then they got ahold of me in New York and said, "Ted, how would you like to go to Monrovia, Liberia? We've got a branch there that is the central bank for Liberia and we also do international banking from there; it's an important link for us in West Africa." I went home and told Hazel. If I had been married to an American, I think I would never have had the opportunity to go because an American woman probably would not have adjusted. Hazel said, "Let's go." We got out library books and I got a post report. The first thing that caught my eye was that we had a house in a fifteen-acre strip with six other houses. That area around Liberia contained six of the most deadly snakes in the world. That influenced Hazel to buy riding boots for all the girls so that when they walked through the grass, there would be less of a chance they'd be bitten. There was also a lot of malaria. Our doctor gave us pills, which I think affected us all later in terms of our eyesight. We arrived there with a 41 dog and a cat. Our house had a river behind it that contained crocodiles. There were other animals, like apes and things. We were in the middle of an animal kingdom. When I got into the branch I got a shock. I didn't have a problem with blacks, but it was a cultural shock to walk in and see everyone in the branch was black except the manager and me. There was an adjustment there. We settled in and found out that we were the kingpins as far as the American banks there. The president of Liberia thought nothing of coming in at whatever hour of the day or night and saying to the manager of the bank, "I'm going to New York. I need some traveler's checks." We'd have to open the branch and get that for him. We had a problem with labor relations. The employees decided to strike because their white managers did not understand them—that was I and the other manager. We were in the hot seat there for a while. Hazel developed a friendship with the wife of the President through the American Club. They had a graduation ceremony and Hazel loaned Mrs. Tubman one of her chairs to sit on. During the ceremony, the lights went out and it was raining cats and dogs. They brought out some lanterns. It was a comic graduation. We were invited to a wedding of one of our employees. We were the only white couple there. When we saw the cake, there was a colony of ants crawling over the cake. The cultural shock—you learn to adjust to it and get involved with it. They had golf there but the greens were tarred, they weren't grass. The caddies didn't wear shoes so they'd go out into the rough and pick up 42 your ball—which is illegal in golf, but they wanted a tip—and there were snakes all along the fairway. From time to time, we would transfer money that was depreciated to the central bank. We had a cash officer and two guards when we took that money over to the central bank. On one day, we had branches up-country and he went to the cash officer said he wanted to take money over; I asked how he was going to do it. He said, "Our two Monrovia trucks are busy, so I'll get my chauffeur and my car and get a guard from the bank." I said, "So be it." So they drove over and parked in front of the Monrovia Central Bank. The guard got out and the driver stayed in his seat. Before the guard could get the money out of the car, the driver took off with the money in the trunk. We found the abandoned car. It was a national catastrophe—it was all over the news and all the borders were closed so they couldn't get out. For two days I was waiting. New York told me I'd better get the money back or I was in trouble. So, the guy who stole the money went to his brother's house and they buried it. The one who stole the money took enough to get to the Ivory Coast for vacation. There are two episodes. The guy with the money waiting for a taxi to take him to the Ivory Coast that's fifty miles away. The taxi driver said, "You haven't got enough money to get to the Ivory Coast." And the guy said, "Here." He put the money on the seat and the taxi driver drove off with the money. This is comic. Well, they got a hold of the guy and shook him down and he admitted to where the money was. It was wet and they were digging it up and all the bills were sticking together. So the Treasury Department said, "You've got to be down there 43 while we count this money." I spent three hours there while they were peeling dollar bills to be sure we got all the money back. Another thing—and this one was scary—Hazel and I, and our daughter, went to a show down in the center of Monrovia at night. Coming back, the car stopped. Hazel and our daughter pushed me over the bridge down to the bottom where there was a house. I knocked on the door and a guy came out. I said, "Here's ten dollars, if that car is still there in the morning, I'll give you another ten dollars." We took a taxi home. The funny thing was that our daughters were dating and they wanted me to take them into town. The roads were very narrow and had big drops. This was tribal country. So I'm going along the road at night and I see this car coming towards me on my side of the road. There was no shoulder and I dropped down about ten feet into a ravine—still upright with two of the girls in the back seat. Within five minutes, there was a tribe of indigenous people swarming the car. I thought we were going to be cannibal soup. Well, it took about twelve of these guys, but they helped get the car back up on the road. The compound had a guard at night. One of our junior officers was coming in at night and he went over to him and shook him. Well the native went over to his tribe headquarters and said he had been assaulted by an American. The tribal chief ordered that this man be arrested and go into a tribal court. The bank immediately said, "That's a problem." The only way we saved him was to transfer him out of the country. Then we had an incident of inside robbery. Hazel and I were sleeping in bed with our golden retriever next to me. My wallet was two feet from me. The 44 next morning I woke up and saw my wallet was gone. What had happened was we'd had a thief who had come in with a screw driver and broke through one of the windows. He got into our room and the dog growled but we didn't pay attention. The thief stole my wallet, then went down to the St. Paul River, took everything out and dumped the wallet. At that time, Liberia was ruled by elitists, the people who came by boat from the United States. They had the money and they ran the country. About ninety percent of the people had no money and had been kept under control by the people in power. Just after we left, they had an uprising where they took the president and his cabinet down to the beach, stripped them to their skivvies, and shot them. They gunned down the President of Liberia and eight counselors. That was when this John Doe became famous and was running the country and now things have calmed down. But it was a very serious uprising of the have-nots. Mind you, when they had a parade, they wore top hats and they wore canes—they didn't have any guns. It looked like Laurel and Hardy. We were there about three years and we were packing up to go back to the States—we'd about had it at that point. ROH: Were you doing better financially by this point? EB: No, we were barely hanging on. Anyway, we were scheduled to go back to New York after that tour and one of our senior officers from Athens, Greece was in Liberia visiting. I was talking to him and said I didn't want to go back to New York. He said, "Okay." And the next thing I know, my superior at the branch said, "How 45 would you like to go to Beirut, Lebanon." Well, there was a war going on there. But again, Hazel said, "Okay, let's go." It was eerily quiet when we landed at the Beirut airport. The taxi driver took us to the Bristol Hotel, which was one of the best in the city. We registered and Hazel and Sarah were the only females in that hotel for about three months. They were treated royally by the staff. It was an indication that it was a very dangerous situation. One day Hazel and I decided to go visit the ruins in Syria. Word got around that Boyle and his wife were going to visit the ruins. We got in a taxi with a reporter from New York. We rode up into the area occupied by the Syrian army. We got into Baalbek and we were stopped by Syrian police. They took our passports and wouldn't give them back until we left. The ruins were spectacular. We were the only tourists in any form in that area. We had so many near-misses in Lebanon. They burned the American Embassy. We were located on the Mediterranean in a high rise. We were on the seventh floor and there was a Saudi prince on the eighth floor. Unbeknownst to us, we were in a PLO area—the western side of Beirut was headquarters for Yasser Arafat. We had a bank there called the Bank of Lebanon and Kuwait. It was fifty-fifty with the Kuwait royal family. Our principle objective was to recover investments for our clients because of the war. We were in a tenuous situation. One of the most dangerous things I've ever done—I was obliged to do it. We had branches on the east and west sides of the city. The west was the Muslim side and the east was the Christian. There was a dividing line between them. At one point, the leaders of the Lebanese government decreed that they 46 were going to get some insurance money from the bankers in the area for protection purposes. They approached our offices on the east side and said, "We're going to keep people around here to protect your branch, but it's going to cost you this much." It was not a threat, but in order to continue to bank without being hustled or having people break into the bank, we sent the proposal to New York. They said, "Absolutely not. We cannot be taken to court on that type of issue. Just send down an ultimatum: we do not accept these terms." Well, someone had to take that message to the people in authority. We drew straws and I got the short straw. They said, "Ted, you are going to be an emissary. You're going to drive through an area that's highly contested on both sides and you're going to carry this message personally." I had to go down this road with enemies and firepower on both sides. We stopped near the headquarters of the Lebanese presidency. We were searched and they sat me in the hall to wait. One of the men that was ruling the country had been educated in the United States, so he had an English background. I was brief about it. I told him, "This is what has happened and we've been advised by our headquarters that we cannot do this." He said, "I understand." He shook my hand and I walked out. That was scary. With all this going on, it was very dangerous. Quite frequently, Hazel and our daughter would be flown down to Athens and I'd stay behind. When I'd get to go to Athens, I'd stay over the weekend and come back. The pilot would say, "I've got to find out which runway is open. There's firing on the north side, so I'm 47 coming on the south side so we won't be hit." While we were flying in, there were missiles flying around the airport. ROH: What did you think of Athens? EB: Athens was a dream come true. I had seen a little of the ancient history when I was in the Air Force in Tunisia—the aqueducts and all that. But when I walked around there, I just felt eerie, like it was unreal. It was hard to imagine the history that you were walking around. When we left Beirut, we didn't find out until we were ready to go that our body guards and the people who were hanging around in the lobby all the time were PLO—they were protecting us, unbeknownst to us. The golf course in Lebanon was laid out on the edge of the PLO firing range. The ambassador, I was told, carried a machine gun in his golf bag when he played. We had shrapnel coming down on us while we played. ROH: Did you have friends there? EB: Thanks to Hazel, we have had friends everywhere we've gone. We were involved with the government because of the banking industry. They had the American school there and this is where Hazel and our daughter were baptized. I got the idea, having bombed Europe and seen the desolation and the destruction, Beirut reminded me very much of a destroyed city. They had destroyed the business sector. Buildings were derelict. It was a mini world war for me. ROH: Did that cause problems in business for you? EB: Oh yes. This was an extreme case of merchants who took advantage of the situation and refused to pay us back. Recovery of assets was very difficult. They 48 knew what the situation was and we had very little clout. You never knew who would be the governing body. We were going to the airport, leaving Beirut, and our driver, innocently, drove through a road block of Syrian soldiers. They were ready to shoot us with machine guns. Another car drove into the line of fire and stopped—in other words, they couldn't see us anymore. He overtook us down the road and said, "I saved your life, what the hell were you thinking?" Our driver thought they were telling us to go on. That was our departure from Beirut. We went from there to Karachi, Pakistan. That was in turmoil too. The president had been convicted of crimes and they were going to execute him. They had killed several marines in our embassy in Islamabad. We got word from New York to get out of there. Hazel and our daughter were flown down to Athens again. I went underground with our people. It was a very tenuous situation when we first got there. There was a lot of demonstrating in front of the bank. Again, our bank worked closely with the government. Pakistan is famous for its textiles. They had an industry down on the coast that broke up old ships that were battle-worn. There was a big industry there for that. They had oil deposits, too, but textiles were their strongest industry. The entertainment there was centered around the American school, which was a premier school. In fact, the Pakistanis who had money would be on waiting lists for years to get their children in the American schools. I was on the board there. In fact, the head of that school was here recently in a tennis tournament for seniors—Tony Horton. He had traveled all over the world as the head of 49 American schools. We had, again, a very closely knit community. We were there for about three years. ROH: Was it better than when you were in Beirut? EB: Oh yes. There was an underlying community of the have-nots. The countries we were in at this time had a high rate of poverty. As a result, there were riots in the cities. It was a learning experience again. ROH: At this point were you thinking about retiring? EB: No, I was still active. I had become a resident vice president. My duties were managing our portfolio—the quality of our loans and making sure people were paying and all that. We took several tours up into the area where the book Three Cups of Tea was written. We were in that area, not quite as high as he was. It's very rural. It was kind of scary in a sense that there wasn't a real feeling that you didn't belong, but you had a feeling that you might be better off if you weren't there. The populous in Karachi was horrific in terms of slums—water and sanitation was a horrible mess. I understood why the have-nots had uprisings. Of course, spinning off from India, there was always a feeling that India was their big rival and there was a fear that India would come after them, and then they had the nuclear problem down there. Pakistan was a tinder box. After Pakistan, we moved over to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. That was an eye-opener. The bank there was called Saudi-American Bank. It was fifty percent owned by Citibank and fifty percent owned by the royal family. We also had a subdivision for females only. There wasn't a male teller in that division. We had 50 lots of meetings and instances—one where we had a Saudi princess with a lot of money who had a farm development out in the desert. They desired to have their own wheat, which cost ten times as much as it would have to import it from Canada. They have pivot wheels out in the desert with the wheat growing out there, and then the Saudis would have their estates out there. I was invited by a Saudi and the princess arranged for a luncheon. She had about sixty pieces of chicken for three of us for lunch. Our dealings there were really something. If you invited a Saudi of any importance, the wife never came. You never saw their wives in a social engagement. And there was enormous segregation. One of the things they told me was, "If you're driving down the street and a Saudi runs into you, you're liable. They say it wouldn't have happened if you weren't there." The philosophy is that you caused the accident because you were residing in their country. I had a terrible incident there with my health. The Saudi hospitals are staffed by Americans and have our equipment; it's just like an American institution, but only Saudis can utilize those services. My condition worsened and it was decided that I would leave the Kingdom. Our driver took us to the airport and I found that I had a missing document. They said I had to go six blocks to another location to get the document, but the plane was on the runway taxing without me. We raced over and they actually held the plane for thirty minutes for us. I was on that plane for thirty hours in terrible straights. But what I'm going to say is that if anyone in the royal family has hay fever, they head to Walter Reed hospital and take up a whole wing. 51 We dealt with Osama bin Laden's father. He was one of our biggest clients and continues to be one of the biggest powers in industrial equipment in Saudi Arabia. I can't document it, but I think Bin Laden was employed there in Saudi Arabia while I was there. It's funny. You don't have any poverty in Saudi Arabia. It's set up so that if you get in line and go tell the king you need a washer or whatever, he gives you the royal handshake and gives an order. You don't see poverty because the people with oil money keep the populace happy with that type of thing. They say, "Hey, I've got money." But religion—if they think that you are even getting together for religious purposes, they kick you out of the country. They consider that a deterrent to the kingdom. So Hazel and her friends would have secret meetings. They were told not to park close to the house, they would walk so that no one would see the cars together and think, "We got one." Our Air Force guarding the kingdom is a deterrent to the kingdom being overthrown. I think, militarily, our presence has been a big thing in saving the kingdom. Another thing that's interesting is once the Saudis get into the Saudi planes, they'll exchange their royal robes and put on their jeans. ROH: While you were there, was your daughter still with you? EB: Our youngest daughter was a threat—in other words there were restrictions that a young female could not enter the kingdom. They didn't want any western women walking around with the Saudi boys looking at her. So she couldn't get a visa to get in. I don't remember, but I think their laws prohibit interest on loans, making it extremely difficult to bank at a profit. You had to protect yourself with 52 collateral outside of the kingdom because the laws there would make it so difficult to foreclose on a property. You have to play their rules. It's an extremely difficult area to bank in. After Saudi Arabia, we came back to Wilton, Connecticut. At that time, I was approaching retirement and I took an early retirement there. I was sixty-two. ROH: What position did you hold at the bank? EB: I was Vice President for Citibank. ROH: Were you finally doing okay financially? EB: I've always thought in terms of the investments and stocks. Over a period of forty years or so, I've been fortunate. But you have to be patient. The average investor today with this market and all this growling about Wall Street and what's wrong. But what do we produce now? We've lost our keys—we were the kings of electronics and technology. We've lost everything where we could say we dominated. I think most of it is a labor factor of the cost value. You cannot compete with China and India where the person is making a dollar or two dollars an hour but Detroit wants fifty or sixty dollars for the same product. But I want to talk about several vacations. We went to Cairo and went down the Nile on a houseboat from the Aswan Dam clear to Cairo. Doing everything that tourists do with all the royal burial grounds. We got off at Luxor, which is kind of a tourist trap, and Hazel wanted to get a cartouche for each girl. While Hazel was dealing in the jewelry store, the owner of the shop came over and said, "Mister, I give you a hundred racing camels for your wife!" [Laughter] 53 Racing camels were thousands of dollars; it was millions he was talking about. I told him, "Give me a few minutes to think about it." That was hilarious. Our trip to Nairobi, Kenya was fantastic. I've always thought about big game. We got down there with three of our girls and we decided not to go with a guided tour. We got out to the base of Mount Kilimanjaro and we were right in the middle of all kinds of wild game. The next day I decided to go out in our car, by myself, and find the animals. I was going along the trail and low and behold, I see three lions loping by the side of the car. We've got pictures of them. Anyway, we got in there and saw lions, elephants, and rhinos, you name it. On the way back to Nairobi, I tried to drive through a dry lake bed but it was sandy and we got stuck. I finally got onto what you'd call a road and one of the girls smelled gas. I stopped and found that the gas line had parted. The girls put it together and put some gum around it to patch it. We stopped in a village of Masai natives who were about six feet, ten inches tall. We are the only white people in the village. They all had spears and red paint. We dealt with them and got a couple of spears from them. When we got back to our hotel, we headed out towards Mount Kenya. It was a very sumptuous place which was owned by a famous movie star—William Holden. It was like an Elizabeth Taylor movie—there were all these natives with turbans on and holding rifles. At night, you had a fireplace in each cabin and they'd come in and light the fire. It was, again, something out of a fantasy land. 54 Going back with the same car, the car was stopping and starting. We had to coast into Nairobi. We lucked out. But that trip was worth a million dollars. We really roughed it. ROH: Did you hunt while you were there? EB: No, that's too expensive. We did it on an economy budget. The other tourists would get on a bus and see a lion off in the distance, but we had them running right alongside of us. That was something. We spent several vacations in Switzerland. We had a close friend from San Salvador whose husband was a hotel manager. He had a chalet in the Swiss Alps near the border with France. We spent a Christmas there. Switzerland is very orderly. They have a lot of rules and regulations, and it's hard to get in, but I said to Hazel I would live there. Then we spent a Christmas in the Spanish Alps. We did Spain while we were in Saudi Arabia. We saw bullfights and where they grew the wine and all that. We went into Russia during the Cold War. It was 1976. The big thing there was a train ride from Moscow to Leningrad overnight. There was supposed to be an elite coach, but there were four bunks—no beds. Hazel and I and Sarah got in the train leaving the station and a middle-aged Russian male came in and said, "Mine," and pointed to one of the bunks. Then he stripped down and went to sleep there in our cabin. I thought that was hilarious. We were an oddity in Russia. We were at the Kremlin looking at Lenin's tomb and they were parading some of their Mongolian soldiers all dressed up. Hazel was standing around and a Russian lieutenant came up to her and said, "I take you." He served as our 55 guide and took us up through this church we wanted to see. Then we had our English speaking guide, an attorney. I said I wanted to give him something and asked if I could give him money. He said, "Absolutely not. They'll put me in jail." But he said he liked my jeans. So Hazel and I left a package on the back seat of the bus with my jeans in it and he picked it up. ROH: Where haven't you been that you might want to go sometime? EB: I think Australia. We were in Thailand and Hong Kong. I admire the Australians. I lost one of my best friends in the battle with the Japanese down there. My dad used to sing from South Pacific. I'd like to go there. ROH: You were very successful in the banking industry. What do you attribute your success to? EB: I think it was doing the right thing, first of all. No monkey business and a perseverance in cultivating human contacts—relationships with your staff so you didn't talk down to them. Like when we went to Nellis Field and a general came out in a flight suit like a normal trainee and I thought, "That's success—getting down in the trenches." Assimilating customs of the people and trying to understand what makes them work. In other words, why are we banking here, what do they want from us, and how do we go about it. I think relationships and how you treat people are prime—also, towing the line. We went where we were told. I attribute that to my wife because she was very flexible. Without her, I may have stayed in New York and not done any of this. The minute I said, "Pakistan," she said, "Okay." There was never any discussion or complaining. I attribute my success to my wife. She was with me in the trying moments. You have to have 56 support. Now that I've been talking to you, I've asked myself, "What if I had stayed in Ogden?" I could very well have been a salesman for Boyle Furniture for the rest of my life. It's hard to picture who was pulling the strings. Hazel always said God was looking over us and I think she's right. I think somebody was directing us through all this that we did. That's my problem now, I've run the mill and I think I have no more bridges to cross as far as advance or travel I'm content to just kind of sit back. Here in St. George there is a difficulty of communication because of where we were and what we did and our thoughts and perceptions. A lot of times, people turn you off; they're not interested. You get the idea that they want to talk about the local scene and the lack of water here in St. George. If our leaders would at least look at the world and look at what makes the world go 'round—and I stress religion—and try to understand civilizations that have lived according to the Quran for thousands of years and overnight you want them to change and you said, "We've got something better than what you have." I don't like isolation. I think we've got to understand what makes the world go around. China, Cuba, trade wars, and now they're undercutting us—so what? They've done the right thing; let's learn from them. What are they doing that we're not doing? What happened to our manufacturing abilities from the '50s and '60s when we were king of the hill? I think a lot of it is political, unfortunately. But I just wonder where we are headed and what our children's future will be. ROH: Do you keep in touch with people from Citibank? 57 EB: Oh yes, I have a lot of friends in Florida who I met in Colombia. I have my ex-boss in San Salvador and New York. He owns a bank in Bulgaria. He's been featured in Fortune magazine because it's the best bank in Europe. Joe Borgatti was my favorite. He was down to earth. But you get other people who get ahead of themselves because of their title or they want to isolate themselves from you and make you a lesser factor in running the bank. I've had some wonderful associations with people above me and I've had some I didn't like. ROH: What do you think about the changes that have happened with Citibank since you left? EB: We started out with the Rockefellers. In fact, Citibank is the oldest bank in New York. Through the years, leaders of the bank came from high society and we had people in there who were bankers by trade and by inheritance and they stayed the line; in other words, they held on to tradition and what we were good at. There was no variance. We had enormous control over our assets by our auditing departments. We held on to tradition under George Moore and Walter Wriston, then John Reed who was a genius but had a failing in personal communication. After Reed, you drop off. He was the last of the Mohicans. Next you get Sandy Weil who brought all of his ideas about insurance and things we didn't normally get into. He wanted to build an empire and we lost control of what we did best. Sandy did a tremendous job of building up assets, but he lost control of the inner workings and delegated too much. Then they made a bad mistake in naming Prince the president. He was an attorney by profession and knew very little about banking. We got off track. There was a law earlier that prohibited 58 banking activities outside of a certain area, like the derivatives and things we got into later. The derivatives were the downfall, they were dealing with assets they had no control over. I think Citi Group will survive because of all the help from the government but it back-fired. The major corporations, who used to be the pillar for the banking community, now have their own in-house bank. A depositor asks, "Will my money be safe with Citibank?" This goes right back to the economy. We don't have jobs and there's no money in circulation. ROH: How did you decide to create an endowment at Weber State? EB: "I have accepted this assignment with immense feelings of inadequacy, humility, and privilege, keenly aware that the man we honor and memorialize here today was, and is, a giant whose character, thought and deeds can never receive can never receive justice by the mere force of human utterance. Dr. Jennings G. Olsen is the only person I have ever known who is unqualifiably deserving of the title genius. One who, in fact, came closer than any of my acquaintances, of being a man for all seasons, as was said of Thomas Moore. Indeed, a virtual superman. I was an eighteen year old freshman just out of high school, anything but passionate about the need for an education. Wet enough behind the ears to have narrowly escaped drowning, my friend and new found mentor Jennings G, on the other hand, a man of twenty-five soon to receive his doctorate in philosophy from UCLA, had even read and absorbed more than most academics do in an entire lifetime. Along with the rest of my fellow students, I promptly found myself astounded by his incredible knowledge and memory, prodigious vocabulary, and his uncanny ability to quote chapter and verse from everything 59 and anything he had ever read. Even more importantly, his power to analyze, synthesize, and contain this ever-growing information within a context amendable to the humblest of intellects. Impeccably dressed in starched white shirts, ties and a sport coat, slacks inevitably pressed to a crease that would cut your hand, his cheery countenance well-scrubbed and glowing with vitality. Jennings was also the quintessence of organization. His lessons on Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, and other greats, such as Augustine, were always carefully outlined on the blackboard and completed with articulate and meticulously exact due. One of his oft-expressed mottos read as follows, 'Organization and schedule are the keys to success.' Nevertheless, his presentations were rarely limited to straight lecture and he made ample provision for student response through carefully inter-related and challenging questions that required us to engage in the unique experience of actually thinking." ROH: Who wrote that? EB: Gordon Allred. This is a eulogy he wrote for the funeral. I'll give you a copy. [See Insert]. There's a picture of him at Weber College in his younger days. Let me tell you, Gordon Allred's father was Thatcher Allred, who was in a department at Weber College who was a dominating factor in stage production. His mother was a poet. He came from a very talented family. I have a book that Gordon wrote about the Japanese Kamikaze pilots. He spent some time over there with a pilot who had survived. The book is spellbinding if you're interested. HB: I don't think you told them that he was born with a handicap. 60 EB: He was born with a club foot and he participated in pole-vaulting. Nobody knew about it unless you were an intimate friend of his. He never divulged that. He had a professional singing voice. He performed in operas and sang on television. People that knew him, like I did from day one, admired his ability to surpass all of his difficulties. But he never, ever complained. I think he was a little bit above the crowd and very intellectually powerful. Perhaps it was overabundant to the average student. He delved into the topic of the origin of life in order to show students that there were two sides to the equation, but he never pushed it. He went into Darwinism and just said, "This is something that people think about it. I'm not telling you what to think." He opened their minds and wanted people to be able to think instead of just being told. From my perspective, Hazel and I had nothing to do with Weber State. Then we went into Ogden one day and saw the campus there and I decided to go take a look. Carol Biddle was the catalyst. I walked in to her office and I said, "I'm Ted Boyle and maybe I have some money to donate." She said, "First thing, I want you to read this book by Sadler." So I went home and read that book from front to back looking for indices of Jennings Olsen. There wasn't a single award. I noticed the lesser degree people were getting awards and I said, "What happened to Jennings Olsen? Why isn't he mentioned somewhere?" That triggered my interest. I went back to Carol and said, "I want to do something for Jennings Olsen." That's where it started. I think Jennings was probably not a sociable person. I think he may have isolated himself in his books and his will to increase 61 his knowledge of religion and the world. It was just his background. He came through hell and high water and he was a person who should have been eulogized at the highest level—with his physical problems and coming from kind of a broken home. I really think that Jennings was so worldly that Weber County wasn't ready for him. He got his doctorate from UCLA and I think he would have been president of the university there. I think he was misplaced and in this community he was misunderstood. He didn't get the recognition he deserved. ROH: You've created that recognition. EB: No, I haven't, and I am so displeased that not one dollar from his staff, his friends, his family—there hasn't been one. I say, "What am I missing?" You would have thought someone, in the total time he taught there, would have said, "He taught me something and I'm going to put ten dollars in." I'm being facetious. ROH: You should get credit for stepping up. EB: It's still not recognizable as something that is popular. I think it's something that's there, but it's not an attention-getter. I really think that Dr. Olsen was in the wrong place at the wrong time. His manner of attacking world religion and making people understand where we all came from. All he wanted was for students to open their minds and think. He wouldn't tell him it was right or wrong. I'm disappointed because I think I tried and there's nothing to show for it. I thought maybe it would catch fire but I think it's going to die a natural death. ROH: It's there and people can find it. We appreciate the fact that you did this because I, for one, wouldn't know anything about Dr. Olsen if not for you. But each person 62 who gives to the university does it in a way that they are passionate about. You never know what's going to happen. EB: Maybe someday it'll be like when they resurrect these ancient scholars. Unfortunately, he didn't produce any work of his own. I have personal letters but I don't know if they should be made public or not. We were so different—he was an intellectual and, as I told you, I barely got passing grades. Maybe opposites attract. ROH: Is there anything you would like to add before we finish? EB: I'm infatuated with Ogden still, though I've left, and I want to know what happened to the Ogden I knew in the 1930s and 1940s. I can imagine it was the railroad departure and the entrance of the supply depot and Hillfield. Maybe it attracted a lesser culture. But it was king of the hill—people from Salt Lake traveled to Ogden to shop. It was a place of honor. As Tom Brokaw said, "The greatest generation," I think the class of 1940 from Ogden High was the class of a generation. I'm not being facetious, but that class had more activity and more people who were going places and doing it with little resources. The final shot is the Ogden Standard Examiner. I felt that in the 1930s, and 1940s, and 1950s, the Standard Examiner got inside of what was happening in Ogden—the people and what they were doing and where they were going. It was a very informative paper about doings. It seems to me that they've gotten off track now. You don't feel like you're a part of it anymore. ROH: Thank you very much for your time.

Issue 55.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1996. ; for religi ous Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 199-~ * VOLUME 55 ¯ NUMBER 5 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their ~ersonal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, prhctical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point If view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) i! published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits o,'f the Missouri Province¯ Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St.!Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯Fax~: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU~ZCI.SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonoug.~ OP 1150 Cedar Cove R~oad ¯ Hendelson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER ¯ Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.( Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, See inside back cover for information ¯ Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. hnd additional mailing offices. 3n subscription rates. ©1996 Review for Rel ious Permission is herewith granted to copv any material (article]s, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Rehglous for personal or ~nternal use, or for the personal or ~nternal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 anl:l/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear n~tice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1996 ¯ VOLUME55 ¯ NUMBER5 contents consecrated life 454 462 Vita Consecrata: A Vocation for the Third Millennium Rose McDermott SSJ summarizes the content of John Paul's apostolic exhortation on consecrated life and highlights a few of its provisions. The Holy Spirit in Church Documents on the Consecrated Life Sally Ann Brickner OSF examines the increasing recognition by church documents of the role of the Holy Spirit in consecrated-life renewal. seeking God 474 Vocations and the Crisis of Communal Life 485 Terrance Wayne Klein identifies three areas of concern for vocational recruitment: contact with ministerial mentors, a growing spiritual freedom in those seeking ministry, and a sense of enhancing community life. Reflections of a Fin de SiOcle Novice Michael Tidd FSC reviews his novitiate experience to clarify elements of formation central to apostolic life. --450 Review for Religious 494 5O6 breaking boundaries Racism and Religious Life Clemente Barr6n CP gives gentle and honest witness to an experience of racism that infects good people in the church and in religious life. Movement from Monocultural to Multicultural Congregations Gary Riebe-Estrella SVD suggests that what racially distinct groups offer is the opportunity to incarnate for our church and world the gospel's "Good Samaritan" model of persons letting their physical proximity turn them into neighbors. 521 527 living spiritually Perseverance: Letting the Goodness Out Melannie Svoboda SND explores factors that facilitate our practice of the virtue of perseverance. Friends through Prayer Eugene M. Rooney SJ reemphasizes the importance of prayer as a way of communication and support in a world of e-mail and fax. departments 452 Prisms 533 Canonical Counsel: The Role of Councils in Religious Governance 540 Book Reviews Septe~nber-October 1996 prisms ~ita consecrata, the papal exhortation which completed the work of the synod of bishops deal-ing with consecrated life in the church, has only just begun to be studied. First public reactions to the document seem to have been quite favorable. Of course, there will be critique--inevitable, and abso-lutely necessary if there is to be continuing development and growth. One observation made immediately upon publication was about the daunting length of the docu-ment. Although there are only three chapters, along with an introduction and a conclusion, the text is substantial and typical of the dense style of writing associated with Pope John Paul. Perhaps a saving factor in a long text is that there seems to be "something in it for everyone." Of course, there is likely something to disconcert everyone too. Some have already expressed dissatisfaction with the English translation "objective superiority" (§18 and §32) applied to consecrated life. Some are disappointed with the inconclusiveness of the equal stance of brothers in relation to priests in what is called a "mixed" institute; further work by a study commission is promised for a deci-sion. While new forms of consecrated life are acknowl-edged and praised, a proposed commission to determine criteria of authenticity and of approval suggests a stance of caution. Although there is a strong positive stance towards the specific contribution of women religious, what is referred to as "new possibilities of presence and action on the part of consecrated women" may need more to be Revlew for Religious acknowledged as already a fact in many parts of the church than a future yet to be realized. But important as the resolution of these practical matters will be for the proper development of consecrated lifeforms, I believe that the approach taken by the pope in the first chapter is hugely significant for a theological understanding and a spiritual appre-ciation of consecrated life. The pope does not take up the tools of philosophy, theology, anthropology, sociology, or behaviorial sci-ences for his primary approach to consecrated life. Instead he proposes the gospel passage of Jesus' transfiguration and suggests that we approach it as if it ycere an icon. This transfiguration icon involves a gazing on the face of Jesus both in a "going up the mountain" and a "coming down the mountain." The pope refers to an ancient spiritual tradition which links the contemplative life to the prayer of Jesus on the moun-tain. But then he adds that the active dimension of consecrated life can be included because the transfiguration event serves as prepa-ration to share with Jesus in the "toil of God's plan" and to be with him "courageously on the way of the cross." In using the sacramentality of the icon, we Christians enter sacred time and space. Through a communion with the mystery signified by an icon, tradition holds that the believer is being made-holy. An icon can be studied for the meanings of its sym-bolism, and so there is an intellectual component. Through reflec-tions on various themes stimulated by the gospel passage, John Paul develops a contemporary understanding of consecrated life. But always the focus remains the icon giving us an experience of a divine world. For our understanding and appreciation of conse-crated life, then, Vita consecrata presents us with a gospel text to suggest cognitive content and an iconic vision of the divine: by gazing upon the face of Jesus, we enter into the mystery of con-secrated life in the church and its centering world of holiness. Review for Religious takes pride in making available the text of Vita consecrata, along with a wealth of other contextual arti-cles, in The Church and Consecrated Life. The book costs $18.95 plus postage; it can be ordered from our St. Louis office. See the order form at the end of this issue. David L. Fleming SJ September-October 1996 consecrated life ROSE McDERMOTT Vita Consecrata: A Vocation for the Third Millennium When Pope Paul VI inaugurated the Synod of Bishops on 15 September 1965, he desired that it examine a selected topic in the light of church teachings and the experience of the particular churches. The synod, repre-senting the universal church, would provide the pope and world's bishops with effective collaboration and helpful insights in their shared concern for the Christian faithful throughout the world. Under date of 25 March 1996, the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord, Pope John Paul II promulgated Vita consecrata, the apostolic exhortation for the ninth ordinary session of the Synod of Bishops, held 2 through 29 October 1994. This document marks the completion of the study of the three principal vocations in the church. The priesthood was discussed in the second (1971) and eighth (1990) general sessions and the vocation to the lay state in the seventh (1987) session. Those who have studied the preparatory documents and followed the synod interventions and discussions will find no great surprises in the apostolic exhortation. Rather, it is a fine synthesis of the church's teaching on conse-crated life and its lived reality in the various parts of the world. The document shows the fruits of the consultative process encouraged by the synod's lineamenta document Rose McDermott SSJ, of the Department of Canon Law at Catholic University, last wrote for us in March-April 1995. Her address is Visitation Convent; 1524 35th Street, N.W.; Washington, D.C. 20007. Review for Religions and the contributions of the bishops and other participants gath-ered from around the world for the actual synod assembly. The present article reviews the church's teaching on conse-crated life as reflected in the apostolic exhortation and points to potential developments mentioned in the same document. Since PTta consecrata is hortatory and not legislative, the developments indicated in the document will be the subjects of further theo-logical and canonical study and authoritative deliberations. The Church's Teaching on Consecrated Life The introduction to the apostolic exhortation (§§1-13) describes consecrated life in its gospel beginnings, offers gratitude to God for this gift to the church, and expresses the apostolic exhortation's purpose: to put forth the fruits of this synod session, which has studied this vocation and its contribution to the church's mission. Six forms of consecrated life are presented, with a final paragraph noting the new expressions of the vocation present in the vari-ous churches today. Pope John Paul recognizes that the exhorta-tion is far from the final word on consecrated life. He offers the document to encourage those consecrated by the profession of the counsels to meet the challenges of today's world. Chapter I of the exhortation, Confessio Trinitatis (§§14-40), con-templates the vocation to consecrated life within the gospel icon of the Transfiguration. Persons responding to this vocation have caught a glimpse of the glory of God; he becomes the driving force of their life and activity. Configured to Christ chaste, poor, and obedient, they enjoy an intimacy with the community of the Trinity in their willingness to leave all and follow Christ in an ever deeper response to their baptismal commitment. Consecrated persons are beloved of the Father, who sends them forth--as he did Christ and the Spirit--in dedicated service to the world. This vocation cannot be lived without willing entry into the paschal mystery of suffering. The moment of glory on the mount strengthened the faith of the apostles and prepared them for their own suffering and martyrdom. So, too, the consecrated person embraces a life of labor, suffering, and abandonment to the Father's will. Yet Peter's remark is on the lips of those configured to Christ through this vocation: "Lord, it is good for us to be here." Consecrated life cannot be lived apart from the church; it belongs inextricably to its life and holiness. Through the profes- September-October 1996 McDermott ¯ Vita Consecrata sion of the counsels, consecrated persons offer a vibrant witness to the life and teachings of Christ. They are nourished through liturgical and personal prayer and traditional ascetic practices in the church. Meeting the spiritual combat in their own lives enables consecrated persons to transform the world in humility, detach-ment, and reliance on God. Chapter 2, Signum Fraternitatis (§§41-71). All forms of con-secrated life manifest communion in imitation of Christ's life within the Trinitarian community and in the company of the Twelve. This communion is particularly lived out in religious institutes and societies of apostolic life where the members live in common, supporting one another in the spiritual life and in the apostolate. Members of secular institutes are joined in community with one another through their charism and their embrace of the community in which they live and labor. The church, a mystery of communion (Ac 2:42-47), depends on consecrated persons to give witness to community in an often fragmented and broken world. Within the ecclesial community the bishop looks after the charisms for the good of all the faith-ful. While institutes of consecrated life enjoy a rightful auton-omy of life and governance, they should cooperate with the respective bishops, sharing their goals and apostolates with them. Lay persons recognize the value of communities of conse-crated persons. They seek to attach themselves to them, sharing their spirituality and assisting in their apostolates. These associ-ates and volunteers should be fostered and formed so that they appreciate their lay vocation more deeply and readily lend them-selves to apostolic endeavor in their particular churches. Likewise, formation programs for candidates should reflect human, com-munal, apostolic, cultural, and professional dimensions adapted to the whole person. Chapter 3, Servitium Caritatis (~'§72-103). The mission of those consecrated by profession of the evangelical counsels is one of communicating God's love to the world. One is consecrated and sent (Jn 10:36). The challenges of today's world demand a strong interior life of consecrated persons, a life deeply in tune with the Spirit of God. Through their charisms, members of institutes of consecrated life witness a particu!al~ aspect of the gospel message to those they serve. The universal character of their institutes permits them to join with other ecclesial ministers in carrying out the church's Review for Religious . mission through evangelization, ecumenical and interreligious dialogues, inculturation, the preferential option for the poor, and the promotion of justice. Through their profession of chastity, poverty, and obedience, consecrated persons offer a prophetic witness to the world and address the challenges of a hedonistic culture, materialism, and a distorted use of freedom. The community dimension of conse-crated life teaches the universal call to holiness regardless of differences and human limitations. This prophetic wit-ness is the fruit of a deep spiritual life and an openness to God's word in litur-gical and personal prayer. The apostolic exhortation's Conclusion. The document ends as it began, in grat-itude to God and to those who "waste" their lives in what seems at times an irrelevant commitment, a life poured out in selfless love and service. This vocation as an essential part ofthe church's life and holiness. Consecrated persons contribute with unbounded generosity to the various aspects of the mission of the church. The pope exhorts consecrated persons to live fully the life they have embraced, a life of The document ends as it began, in gratitude to God and to those who "waste" their lives in what seems at times an irrelevant commitment, a life poured out in selfless love and service. continual conversion and dedication to Christ, challenged by the new millennium, but focused on the world to come. A prayer addressed to the Trinity and an invocation to the Virgin of the Visitation for consecrated women and men bring the document to an end. Potential Developments in Consecrated Life New institutes, new forms, new ecclesial movements (§§12 and 62). The Holy Spirit revitalizes the ecclesial community through a variety of new gifts. These charisms can be seen in the embry-onic beginnings of new institutes of consecrated life that meet the present theological and canonical criteria. Other develop-ments seem to be new forms of consecrated life and must await approval from the Apostolic See. Still other "evangelical lifestyles" September-October 1996 McDermott ¯ Vita Gonsecrata that possess some of the characteristics of consecrated life and various other forms of Christian witness would seem to be more accurately categorized as associations of the faithful. Pope John Paul has encouraged these developments in his weekly general audiences during the synod and in the apostolic exhortation. He recognizes them as a true sign of the charismatic nature of the church. This wealth of new gifts is received by the church with grat-itude. These charisms do not substitute fox~ the traditional ones approved by the church throughout its history. Rather, they should complement the older forms and continue in their rich tradition. Bishops have requested more exact criteria in order to discern and distinguish these new developments. A commission has been set up (1) to deal with questions relating to these new forms, (2) to determine criteria to assist church authorities in their dis-cernment and decision making regarding them, and (3) to pre-sent those officially approved as new forms of consecrated life to the faithful. Legislation for cloister (§Yg). The church has always held the contemplative life in highest esteem and has provided norms on cloister to preserve the values inherent in this vocation. While men religious dedicated totally to the contemplative life regulate their cloister (canon 667, §2), women religious totally given to the contemplative life observe cloister in accord with the norms issued by the Apostolic See (c. 667, §3). This difference in the provisions for the cloister of men and women contemplative religious seems contradictory to canon 606, which provides equality in the common law for men and women religious. The cloistral norms seem contrary also to canon 586, which assures all religious institutes a true autonomy to direct their own life and governance in accord with the patrimony of the institute. Women religious institutes dedicated totally to the contemplative life represent a rich variety of monastic and men-dicant traditions. Yet all are obliged to papal cloister without due regard for their varied charisms. Pope John Paul assures us in §59 that careful consideration will be given the concerns addressed by the participants of the synod with regard to this issue. It should be noted that many of the diocesan bishops participating in the synod assembly asked contemplative men and women', to share their prayer life and extend their hospitality to clerics, la~ people, and other religious Review for Religious who seek spiritual renewal. The exhortation assures that more authority will be given major superiors ofsui iuris monasteries to grant dispensations from enclosure for just and sufficient reasons in keeping with conciliar renewal. This provision would be in keeping with the principle of subsidiarity and enable institutes of contemplative life to express their charisms better in their clois-ter regulations. Associates and volunteers joined to institutes of consecrated life (§ Y 6). Before the Second Vatican Council, only religious orders with an apostolic indult were permitted to have third orders secular attached to them. Conciliar teaching placed great emphasis on an ecclesiology of communion that had noteworthy implications for the rela-tionship of the laity With institutes of con-secrated life. Today all religious institutes without distinction can have members of the laity associated with them, sharing their spirituality and joining in their apos-tolic works. This phenomenon was rec-ognized in the preparatory documents of the synod and lauded by the participants in the assembly. Paragraph 56 of the apostolic exhor-tation notes the increasing number of associates and lay volunteers joined to institutes of consecrated life. Vv'hile the exhortation cautions the protection of the identity of these same institutes, it encourages a proper preparation of the lay people joined to them in order that they approach their apostolic com-mitments with supernatural intentions anda strong sense of com-munity. Lay persons in decision-making positions in the apostolates of these institutes should promote the ends of the institute and carry out their labors under its competent superiors. Directives approved by proper authorities need to be provided in such cases. Mixed institutes (§61). Some institutes of men religious, par-ticularly those sharing the Franciscan charism, are neither lay nor clerical from their foundation. In keeping with the intention of their founder, they admit both clerics and laymen to the insti-tute. All are friars or brothers with equal rights and obligations in Today all religious institutes without distinction can have members of the laity associated with them, sharing their spirituality and joining in their apostolic works. September-October 1996 McDermott ¯ Vita Consecrata the institute, prescinding from their lay or clerical status. Conciliar and postconciliar teachings support this fundamental equality of all members and their participation in the life and governance of the institute. The universal law of the church, however, makes no provision for these mixed institutes. It provides only for cler-ical or lay institutes in accord with their foundation, traditions, and end. Likewise, in many of these mixed institutes, some offices require daat the members be ordained. The synod assembly proposed that, when the general chapter of such an institute reque.sted, all offices of governance within these institutes be open to members without distinction. This proposal would be in conformity with the intention of the founders that all members be equal in the life and governance of the institute. Paragraph 61 of the apostolic exhortation recom-mends that such institutes study the original inspiration of their founder. In the meantime a special commission has been estab-lished to examine and resolve the problems concerning this issue. Mutual relations of bishops and consecrated persons (~§48-50). The ecclesiology of communion has led to an intense reflection on the role of consecrated life within the life and apostolate of the particular churches. While institutes of consecrated life are uni-versal by nature, the vocation of their individual members is lived out in a particular church. In 1978 the congregations for bish-ops and for institutes of consecrated life published the document Mutuae relationes, a compilation of directives for effective mutual relations between bishops and religious. These directives exhort bishops and major superiors to collaborate more effectively at the national level through their respective conferences and at the local level through meetings of the diocesan bishops with the major superiors whose members serve the particular church. The synod assembly recommended a revision of this docu-ment which would reflect the developments in this area, particu-larly as reflected in the legislation of the Latin and Eastern churches. In keeping with the synod proposal, the exhortation recommends that delegates from the conferences of bishops par-ticipate in the conferences of major superiors of their nations and that delegates from these latter conferences participate in the meetings of the episcopal conferences. It further proposes that the theology and spirituality of consecrated life be an integral part of the preparation of diocesan priests. Likewise, the study of ecclesiology should be included in the formation program for Review for Religious members of institutes of consecrated life. Pope John Paul con-curs with the members of the synod in hoping that this spirit of communion and cooperation be extended to the entire church. Perhaps a revision and expansion ofMutuae relationes will be pre-sented in the near future. Conclusion As the apostolic exhortation concludes with a reference to Mary, Virgin of the Visitation, it is appropriate that this article end in like manner. Mary, her heart filled with Christ, went forth to serve Elizabeth. Consecrated persons configured to Christ stand ready to meet the needs of people in the third millennium. And with Peter in his ecstasy they cry, "Lord, it is good for us to be here." Abba At the shore where sea and sky and land meet and waves pound the rocks with constant rhythm, I find myself caught up by the stout winds, drawn by the salt air and combative gulls. Here is where I face God in his might yet also encounter him in beauty . Sunsets beckon like fringes of heaven while shorebirds encompass the lilt of hope. I am a mere grain of eternity yet I'm always within God's providence and like the back and forth surge of the tide am drawn into the core of a loving heart. Neil C. Fitzgerald September-October 1996 SALLY ANN BRICKNER The Holy Spirit in Church Documents on the Consecrated Life Twhheen Stheceo cnhdu Vrcaht irceafnl eCcoteudn coinl witsa so twhen encactluersei oalnodg imcails msioonm. eInnt convoking the council Pope John XXIII requested that it be pas-toral in tone and call the entire church to renewal so that its mis-sion, which is none other than Christ's mission of establishing the reign of God, be accomplished through the power of the Holy Spirit. Pope John Paul II, in his recent apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata, says of consecrated life: "Its universal presence and the evangelical nature of its witness are clear evidence., that the consecrated life is not something isolated and marginal, but a reality which affects the whole church. In effect, the consecrated life is at the very heart of the church as a decisive element for her mission since it 'manifests the inner nature of the Christian calling' and the striving of the whole church as bride toward union with her one Spouse" (§3). The appropriate renewal of the con-secrated life, therefore, is essential to renewal in the church.1 Since the close of the council in December 1965, develop-ments in ecclesiology, in the church's thinking about its nature as mystery and as the universal sacrament of salvation, have fre-quently focused on the Holy Spirit. Vita consecrata reflects this: "Like the whole of Christian life, the call to the consecrated life is closely linked to the working of the Holy Spirit" (§ 19). Through Sally Ann Brickner OSF is a faculty member at St. Norbert College. Her address is Sisters of St. Francis of the Holy Cross; 2413 South Webster Avenue; Green Bay, Wisconsin 54301. Review for Religious a study of this and other recent church documents, this essay demonstrates that pneumatology has become important in the ecclesiological understanding of the consecrated life and that this emphasis has implications for its continuing renewal. This study proceeds chronologically through the two concil-iar documents and the eight postconciliar documents that explic-itly treat the consecrated life. A brief explanation of pneumatology provides a backdrop for the analysis. The study concludes with a discussion of the implications of this ecclesiological doctrine for the continuing appropriate renewal of the consecrated life. What Is Pneumatology? The Greek word pneuma means breath, air, wind, soul, spirit. Pneumatology, then, is the branch of systematic theology that studies the Person and work of the I-Ioly Spirit.2 The t-Ioly Spirit has been virtually lost from much of Christian consciousness, some theologians claim. The Spirit of God manifests herself through various actions: vivifying, renewing and empowering, gracing. The Holy Spirit is the mutual rela-tionship of love within the community (koinonia) of the Godhead, freely going forth to renew, to liberate.3 It is the Spirit who makes it possible for us to know and experience Christ. Christ's life in us and our life in Christ is ecclesial in the sense that Christ's Spirit is the principle of communication and communion.4 "The church is the body of Christ, because Christ is a pneumatological being, born and exist-ing in the koinonia of the Spirit.''5 Christ is the head of the church, and the Holy Spirit is the heart of the church. Word and Spirit are the two hands of God at work building God's reign.6 The church has come to understand the Holy Spirit also through the Spirit's free gifts, charisms, "to perform distinct and mutually complementary functions in building up the body of Christ." Charisma must be understood in relation to charis, "grace" that God gives for the common good and the renewal of the church in all eras.7 Charisms are not extraordinary, ecstatic gifts reserved to a few persons. Rather, they are the obvious ways "through which the Spirit structures the church by rousing from Christ is the head of the church, and the Holy Spirit is the heart of the church. September-October 1996 Brickner ¯ The Hol~ Spirit in Church Documents within the services and functions of the community according to the diversity and qualities of each member. In this perspective there is no opposition between charism and institution. A ministry is normally the expression of a charism, and a permanent charism takes the form of a ministry or a service." Charism also refers to the gifts which inspire the choice of a particular state of life such as marriage or celibacy. But in the end neither charism nor insti-tution will exist. Charity alone endures and is the true measure and strength of any charism,s Against this backdrop about pneumatology and its relationship to ecclesiology, we can now examine pneumatology in documents pertaining to the consecrated life. What pneumatology is evi-dent? Does development occur in pneumatology? Conciliar Documents Before examining the two conciliar texts, it will be beneficial to consider briefly whether and how pneumatology was approached by the council fathers. It has been said that the eccle-siology of Vatican Council II is pneumatological as well as Christocentric, and ultimately theocentric.9 Yves Congar, the renowned theologian of this century and peritus of the council, claims that its ecclesiology is pneumatological though not pneu-matocentric. 1° It stresses, first and foremost, that the Spirit is the Spirit of Christ, building up the Body of Christ. The documents depict both a visible and a spiritual manifestation of the Spirit who animates the church here and now. The council fathers rec-ognize multiple charisms, the infinite variety of gifts which the -Holy Spirit gives for the common good and the renewal of the church. The council also affirms that the Holy Spirit calls and gathers the people of God into communion, both within partic-ular churches as well as within the universal church.11 Whether these pneumatological perspectives appear in the two council texts specifically dealing with the consecrated life is the issue to which we now turn. Lumen Gentium (1964) In this primordial document, chapters 5, "Call of the Whole Church to Holiness," and 6, "Religious," speak of the Holy Spirit several times. The holiness of the church is unceasingly mani-fested through the fruits of the Holy Spirit in all the faithful. The Review for Relig4ous Holy Spirit also influences the practice of the evangelical coun-sels as a shining witness and model of holiness (§39). Under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, church authority has the duty of interpreting the evangelical counsels, regulating their practice, and establishing stable forms of living in accordance with them (§43). The council fathers affirm that the religious state, though not belonging to the hierarchical structure of the church, belongs inseparably to her life and holiness. It manifests the surpassing greatness of Christ the King and the boundless power of the Holy Spirit (§44) in .the church. Perfectae Caritatis (1965) Few direct references to the Holy Spirit appear in Perfectae caritatis.12 Through God's love which is poured into their hearts by the Holy Spirit, some Christians are impelled to practice the evangelical counsels in a true family gathered together in the Lord's name. Their "brotherly" unity shows that Christ has come and results in great apostolic effectiveness (§§ 1 and 15). The pro-cesses of appropriate renewal of religious life include (1) a return to the sources of Christian life and to the original inspiration of the founder and (2) adjustment of the community to the changed conditions of the times. These processes are to go forward under the influence of the Holy Spirit and with the guidance of the church (§2). Through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, the church is enriched with a variety of communities having a diver-sity of apostolic works (§8). Postconciliar Documents Evangelica Testificatio (1971) In this apostolic exhortation "On the Renewal of Religious Life," written six years after the close of the council, Pope Paul VI emphasizes the work of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit gifts the church with martyrs and with various forms of religious life (§3). Pope Paul speaks of the "charisms of the founders" and the "charism of religious life," which are the fruit of the Holy Spirit always at work within the church (§11). The Spirit guides the church in its interpretation and regulation of the evangelical coun-sels (§7). The Spirit inspires communities of consecrated life not only in their origins but also in their renewal, which requires dis-cernment (§§6 and 51). By placing greater emphasis on the ¯ September-October 1996 Brickner ¯ The Holy Spirit in Church Documents charismatic nature of the consecrated life, church teaching becomes less iuridic and more pneumatic.13 Mutuae Relationes (1978) This document, based on a consultation of bishops and reli-gious in 1975, portrays vividly the pneumatic ecclesiological insights of Vatican Council II, continues to use the term "charism," and provides criteria for evaluating the authenticity of charisms. Profound reflections on the pneumatic origin and sacramental nature of the church permeate the first chapter. "The soul of the ecclesial body is the Holy Spirit" (§9). Ever since the day of Pentecost there has existed in the world a new people which draws its life from the Holy Spirit and is united in Christ so as to have access to the Father. ¯ . This unique nature of the church is due to the presence of the Holy Spirit himself. He is the life and strength of the people of God, the cohesive power in its communion, the energy for its mission, the source of its various gifts, the bond of its marvelous unity, the light and beauty in its creative power, the fire of its love . The life-giving pres-ence of the Holy Spirit creates an organic cohesion in Christ,. for the Spirit "makes [the church] one in its com-munion and ministry, provides it with various hierarchical and charismatic gifts, directing it through them, and adorns it with his fruits." (§§1 and 2) Both founders of consecrated life and bishops are "enriched with suitable charisms" such as the "special charism of organizing" pastoral ministries and of discerning local cultural values (§§6 and 9). Remaining faithful to the charism of their founders, reli-gious institutes should make use of the charism for inventiveness, for bold and ingenious new ecclesial experiments under the impulse of the Holy Spirit (§§14 and 19). Bishops have the respon-sibility of discerning whether a charism is authentic: it must (1) take its origin from the Spirit as something distinct though not separate from innate or acquired gifts, (2) show a desire to become like Christ in order to witness to some aspect.of his mystery, and (3) show a fruitful love for the church that avoids discord (§51). The document acknowledges tensions between the hierarchic structure and consecrated life, encouraging collaboration between bishops and religious for the good of the church. Religious Life and Human Promotion (1980) Because of its focus on human promotion as the mission of the Review for Religious church and therefore of religious as well, one would think that the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes would emphasize pneumatology. However, only a few references to the work of the Holy Spirit appear. Religious are encouraged to be enterprising in undertakings and initiatives in keeping with the charismatic and prophetic nature of their life (§2 7). Renewal in the consecrated life is important for the church and for ~he world because the works of religious, marked by a diversity of charisms, are one of the most important means by which the church carries out its evangelization (§5). The Holy Spirit constantly inspires new forms of consecrated life and animates existing communi-ties, which are called to remain faithful to the purposes for which they were founded (§§6 and 8). Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life (1981) This document results from a plenary meeting of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes in 1980 and stresses the absolute primacy of life in the Holy Spirit (§17). Contemplation is an infused gift of the Holy Spirit by which the believer opens up to the revelation and communication of the liv-ing God. As the highest and fullest activity of the spirit, contem-plation is the real secret of renewal for religious life (§1). Action and contemplation must be fused. Only apostolic and charitable activity which is inspired and motivated by the Holy Spirit is of the very nature of refigious life (§4). The Sacred Congregation urges "renewed attention tolife in the Holy Spirit" through daily meditation on Sacred Scripture (§8), celebration of the Eucharist (§9) and the sacrament of reconciliation (§ 10), spiritual direction (§11), the praying of the Liturgy of the Hours (§12), the prac-tice of asceticism (§14), and devotion to the Virgin May (§13). Redemption# Donum (1983) The few pneumatological references in this apostolic exhor-tation of Pope John Paul (on religious consecration in the light of the mystery of redemption) parallel those of other documents on the consecrated life. Religious profession is described as a fuller expression of baptismal "consecration to God in Jesus Christ" in a covenant of spousal love (§§7 and 8). The Holy Spirit calls peo-ple to follow Christ and recalls to mind all that Christ has said. The entire economy of redemption is realized precisely through the mysterious action of the Holy Spirit, who is the author of all September-October 1996 Brickner ¯ The Holy Spirit in Church Documents holiness (§§6 and 9). The vow of celibacy is a charismatic choice which brings the eschatological kingdom of God close to the life of all people, while the vow of obedience engenders total avail-ability to the Holy.Spirit (§§11 and 13). The particular gift of the founder, from which the apostolate must come, endures as a charism for the whole community (§15). Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life (1983) The document summarizes the church's traditional teachings and norms pertaining to the consecrated life. Its few references to the Holy Spirit offer no new insights. The church has approved and encourages renewal in its numerous religious families, whose distinctiveness derives from the founding charism (§§11, 41, and 42). The witness of religious can be a clear echo of the gospel "to the extent that it manifests publicly the transforming power of Christ in the church and the vitality of the institute's charism to the people of our time" (§§11 and 37). Hence, renewal must focus on fidelity to the founding gift.14 Fraternal Life in Community (1994) In this document the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL) lucidly and directly expresses the pneumatic character of the church and of the consecrated life. Like the mystery of the church itself, the consecrated life expresses the great Trinitarian com-munion in which the Father has willed that women and men have part in the Holy Spirit (§§2, 9, and 71). Religious community is an expression of ecclesial communion. "Before being a human construction, religious community is a gift of the Spirit. It is the love of God poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, from which religious community takes its origin and is formed as a true fam-ily gathered together in the Lord's name" (§8). The fruit of this communion is the gift of fraternal life. Religious community is not simply a collection of Christians seek-ing personal perfection. Rather, it is to be a living organism of intense fraternal communion animated by the foundational charism (§2). United in the Holy Spirit, religious are to become brothers and sisters in their daily experience of communion of life, prayer and apostolate (§§44, 10, 11). Communion originates precisely in sharing the Spirit's gifts. The more religious share ¯ the things that are central and vital, the more the fraternal bond Review for Religious grows in strength (§32). Thus, religious should live alone only in exceptional cases and should value diversity within the com-munity (§65). "Optional homogeneity, besides weakening apostolic mobility, weakens the Pneumatic strength of a community and robs the spiritual reality which rules the community of its power as witness" (§41). "Just as the Holy Spirit anointed the church in the upper room to send her out to evangelize the world, so every reli-gious community, as an authentic pneumatic community of the Risen One, is also, and according to its own nature, apostolic" (§58). Fraternal communities become missionaries of that love "taught and lived by Christ and communicated to us through his Spirit" (§56). This missionary activ-ity is lived out in a particular church to which the religious community brings the richness of its consecration, its fraternal life, and its charism (§60). Religious must seek a just balance between per-sonal charisms and the community's apostolate without the dis-integrating forms of individualism or the leveling aspects of communitarianism (§39). Fraternal communion is already an apos-tolate, and contributes directly to the work of evangelization (§54). "The effectiveness of religious life depends on the quality of the fraternal life in common," which serves as a sign and stim-ulus for all the baptized (§§54 and 2). Fraternal communion is already an apostolate, and contributes directly to the work of evangelization. Vita Consecrata (1996) While the conciliar documents laid the firm foundation for future developments in pneumatology in church documents on the consecrated life, this apostolic exhortation gives shape to its mag-nificent mansion. Dare it be said that in thid document pneuma-tology moves to the front and center?~s Pneumatology as depicted in the document manifests deeper ecclesiological understandings of the consecrated life in three areas: consecration, communion, and mission. After providing brief citations of pneumatology from the document for each of these areas, we reflect on the Holy Father's repeated emphasis on founding charisms. Considered a deepening of baptismal consecration, religious profession includes a special call and gift of the Holy Spirit to September-October 1996 Brickner * The Holy Spirit in Church Documents live the evangelical councils in religious community (§30). "Consecrated persons, who embrace the evangelical counsels, receive a new and special consecration which, without being sacra-mental, commits them to making their own--in chastity, poverty and obedience--the way of life practiced personally by Jesus and proposed by him to his disciples" (§31). The consecrated life is a way of showing forth the church's holiness, an especially rich man-ifestation of gospel values and a more complete expression of the church's purpose, which is the sanctification of humanity (§32). The consecrated life is also a sign of communion in the church. "The church is essentially a mystery of communion, 'a people made one with the unity of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit'" (§41). "It is the Spirit himself who leads the soul to the experience of communion with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ, a communion which is the source of fraternal life" and of the inte-rior call to share everything in common (§42). "In community life, the power of the Holy Spirit at work in one individual passes at the same time to all" (§42). Filled with joy and the Holy Spirit, consecrated persons are to be true experts of communion and to practice the spirituality of communion (§~45 and 46). Communion leads to mission and becomes mission. "By their charisms, consecrated persons become signs of the Spirit point-ing to a new future enlightened by faith and by Christian hope. Eschatological expectation becomes mission, so that the kingdom may become ever more fully established here and now" (§27). "If the church is to reveal her true face to today's world, she urgently needs such fraternal communities, which by their very existence contribute to the new evangelization inasmuch as they disclose in a concrete way the fruitfulness of the 'new commandment'" (§45). Through a special gift of the Holy Spirit, some persons in the consecrated life have carried out a genuinely prophetic min-istry, speaking the name of God to all, even to the pastors of the church (§84). Pope John Paul emphasizes pneumatology also through his focus on the charismatic aspect of the consecrated life. "The Spirit, who at different times has inspired numerous forms of consecrated life, does not cease to assist the church, whether by fostering in already existing institutes a commitment to renewed faithfulness to the founding charism or by giving new charisms to men and women of our own day so that they can start institu-tions responding to the challeng&s of our times" (§62). Review for Religqous Appropriate renewal of the consecrated life includes a return to the sources (as noted in Perfectae caritatis), one of which is fidelity to the founding charism. The founding charism orients consecrated persons to a special relationship with the Trinity (§36). The church assists in discernment regarding the founding charisms, which contribute to building up charity in the particu-lar churches and in the universal church (§§62 and 48). Contemporary Pneumatology's Significance for the Consecrated Life Church documents on the consecrated life are generally rich in pneumatological references, as we have seen. This shift from the juridic to the pneumatic enriches and expands the ecclesio-logical understanding of the consecrated life in the areas of con-secration, communion, and mission. What implications does this finding have for the continuous renewal of the consecrated life? At least two suggestions come to mind: (1) coming to know and love the Holy Spirit, who is the source of unity with God and with others, and (2) both individually and communally respond-ing with greater alacrity to the Spirit's impulses. A common human experience is the longing for communion, for unity which respects a plurality of differences, for love freely given. Within the Holy Trinity there exists this mutuality of rela-tionships in a community of equals. Through the Holy Spirit, God's love is poured into our hearts (Rm 5:5). It is the Spirit who teaches those in the consecrated life how to relate, to respect the diversity of God's gifts, to love. The Holy Spirit must no longer be "shadowy," "vague," "half-known," or "forgotten" by the peo-ple of God, including those in the consecrated life.16 Without a deeper knowledge and appreciation of the Holy Spirit, conse-crated women and men will be unable to understand their charisms and respond to the Spirit who renews and revitalizes the consecrated life. Virtually every one of the documents on the consecrated life urges communities to have strong initial and continuing forma-tion programs, especially in theology. Intellectual development, however, though necessary, is not sufficient. Consecrated persons must also become more responsive to the impulses of the Holy Spirit. Their life is a "kind of shock therapy instituted by the Holy Spirit for the church as a whole.''17 They are called to be the Septent her- October 1996 Brickner ¯ The Holy Spirit in Church Documents presence of God's Spirit in the world: prophets, who speak and boldly exemplify the possibility of real communion; truth tellers, who proclaim what is liberating in feminism; empty vessels that willingly receive the richness of diversity through inculturation; and builders of the reign of God through ecumenical activity.18 The Holy Spirit will not allow the church to domesticate its insti-tutes of consecrated life. Salt must retain its savor! Leaven must retain its power! Renewal, not only of consecrated life but also of the church, depends upon it. Notes ' See Perfectae caritatis §1 and Vim consecrata §§13 and 35. On the relationship between renewal in religious congregations and renewal in the church, see Gerald A. Arbuclde, Refounding the Church (New York: Orbis Books, 1993). 2 HarperCollins Encyclopedia of Catholicism, 1995, s.v. "Pneumatology." These brief remarks about pneumatology can only skim the surface of what many authors have eloquently written about the Holy Spirit. See, for example, Yves Congar's three-volume work I Believe in the Holy Spirit. 3 See Elizabeth A. Johnson, She Who Is (New York: Crossroad, 1994), pp. 128-131 and 133-145. In her study of the Holy Trinity, Johnson begins with Spirit-Sophia, to whom feminine characteristics are often attributed. 4 Yves Congar, I Believe in the Holy Spirit (New York: Seabury Press, 1983), vol. 1, pp. 37 and 31-32. s John Zizioulas, "The Church as Communion," St. Vladimir's Theological Quarterly 38, no. 1 (1994): 6. 6 Yves Congar, The I, Vord and the Spirit (San Francisco: Harper and Row Publishers, 1986), pp. 61-62. St. Bonaventure speaks of Christ as the head of the church, and St. Thomas Aquinas speaks of the Holy Spirit as the heart of the church. The Spirit is the Spirit of the Word; the Word is also of the Spirit. St. Thomas's Christology is pneumatological, accord-ing to Congar. 7 Avery Dulles, A Church to Believe In (New York: Crossroad, 1982), p. 20; Congar, 1 Believe in the Holy Spirit, vol. 2, pp. 161-162. 8 Ren~ Laurentin, "Charisms: Terminological Precision," in Cbarisms in the Church, ed. Christian Duquoc and Casiano Floristan (New York: Seabury Press, 1978), p. 10. Thomas O'Meara writes that charism and institution must not be set in false opposition; he speaks--in his Theology of Ministry (New York: Paulist Press, 1983), p. 68--of the relationship between charism and ministry: "Far from charism being opposed to min-istry, ministry is mediated from the Spirit to personality by charism: dia-conal charisms." When Paul VI refers to religious life as a charism, he uses charism as "a particular state of life." Review for Religious 9 Herbert Vorgrimler, ed., Commentary on the Documents of Vatican H (New York: Herder and Herder, 1967), vol. 1, p. 142. Some critics per-ceive pneumatology to be underdeveloped in conciliar texts. See, for example, Jean-Marie Tillard, "A Point of Departure," Review for Religious 26, no. 3 (March-April 1967): 435-437. Catherine Lacugna, speaking at the University of Notre Dame during the recent conference on the "Reception of Vatican II," suggested that pneumatology was lim-ited if not lackingin conciliar texts. In private conversation she com-mented that the Holy Spirit is too often subordinated to the other Persons of the Trinity. ,0 Congar, IBelieve in the Holy Spirit, vol. 1, pp. 167-172. I I Jean-Marie Tillard, Church of Churches: The Ecclesiology of Communion (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). 12 See Vorgrimler, pp. 301-332. The "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life" went through five redactions and required much compromise among the council fathers. It is short (25 articles) and focuses mainly on principles of appropriate renewal. Its brevity neces-sarily restricted the breadth of theological foundations it could provide regarding the consecrated life. 13 Patricia Walter, "Religious Life in Church Documents," Review for Religious 51, no. 4 0uly-August 1992): 555. 14 This document approaches religious life in a juridical manner and had a mixed reception among religious congregations. is In Vita consecrata sixteen of the 112 articles refer to the Trinity in various ways: as source, as model, in prayer. Half of the articles include a reference to the Holy Spirit, often without subordinating the Spirit's action to that of the Creator and the Redeemer. In addition, the charis-matic element of the consecrated life, attributed to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, appears in 44 percent of the articles. Indeed, recalling Congar's reflections about the pneumatology of Vatican II, one might consider the document notably pneumatocentric compared with concil-iar texts. ,6 See Elizabeth Johnson, She Who Is, p. 130. ,7 Johannes B. Metz, Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 12. 18 Authors who exemplify these perspectives include Joan Chittister, The Fire in These Ashes (Kansas City: Sheed and Ward, 1995); Diarmuid O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1991); Paul J. Philibert, ed., Living in the Meantime (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1994); Gerald A. Arbuckle, Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1988). September-October 1996 seeking God TERRANCE WAYNE KLEIN Vocations and the Crisis of Communal Life In his postsynodal apostolic exhortation Pastores Dabo Vobis: On the Formation of Priests in the Circumstances of the Present Day, Pope John Paul raises an issue I consider essential to vocational recruitment, namely, the formation of can-didates ready to be recruited. Making reference to Andrew bringing his brother Peter to Christ, the Holy Father writes: "He brought him to Jesus." In a way, this is the heart of all the church's pastoral work on behalf of vocations, in which she cares for the birth and growth of vocations, making use of the gifts and responsibilities, of the charisms and ministry she has received from Christ and his Spirit. The church, as a priestly, prophetic, and kingly people, is committed to foster and to serve the birth and maturing of priestly vocations through her prayer and sacramental life, by her proclamation of the word and by education in th~ faith, by her example and witness of ~harity. (PDV§38) I think a significant insight of this text is that finding men and women ready and willing to respond to calls to special ministry in the church should not be left to mer-curial chance: "The church., is committed to foster and serve the birth and maturing of priestly vocations." I also think the text.dispels the theological assertion that this is Terrance Wayne Klein is a former director of vocations and was director of spiritual formation in two seminaries. He is now an associate pastor at St. Brigid of Kildare Church; P.O. Box 1131; Dublin, Ohio 43017. Review for Religious a work of the Holy Spirit alone, and not of human effort. To sup-pose that the Holy Spirit creates the candidates and all the church need do is find them would be to slight the role of human coop-eration in the divine plan of salvation. The church has always realized that religious and priestly vocations are not simply from out of the blue. They arise out of her stock of maturing, committed Christians who, when presented with an actual invitation to a ministry in the church, find them-selves able and willing to respond freely and generously. The cul-tivation of that stock has always been the task of every catechetical and Christian-formation movement in the church's history. Catholic schools, CCD programs, retreat experiences, and youth movements exist to form what can only be called, most basically, disciples of Christ. The cultivation of such a stock has previously not been the task of those charged with vocational recruitment. Yet the flour-ishing of vocations may very well depend upon vocation direc-tors taking up the work of actually forming communities of discipleship. In this article I present three matters that I think need attention if vocational recruitment is to flourish. They are the necessity of bringing youth into contact with ministerial fig-ures; the need of progressive liberation, greater spiritual free-dom, in the lives of those seeking ministry in the church; and a fundamental characteristic desirable in all who work to promote vocations. Letting Sparks Fly According to data presented in the United States Catholic Conference study Research on Men's Vocations to the Priesthood and the Religious Life, most young people decide the basic direction of their lives between the ages of thirteen and seventeen. They do not necessarily choose a career path at this time; given the pro-traction of American adolescence, this would be unlikely. During these years, however, young people choose the values that chart the course their life will take. During these years they decide how important to them are values such as altruism, service, intimacy, material goods, public esteem, and education. That developmental fact belongs with other data presented in the same source (and subsequently confirmed in other stud-ies) and showing that most vocations to special consecration come September-Oaober 1996 Most vocations to special consecration come from direct contact with an inspiring person actually doing ministerial work in the church. from direct contact with an inspiring person actually doing min-isterial work in the church. This statistical evidence is borne out by my own experien, ce in working as a spiritual director to sem-inarians. They all have a story to tell, and it usually involves some ministerial figure who inspired them. Vocations are not cajoled; they are caught by contact. They do not come from media resources; they come out of personal interaction. When I put these two sets of data .together and consider that young people today are no less generous and no less motivated than previous generations, I come to the conclusion that, in the Catholic Church and among Christians in general, there is a sociological gap between youth and the institutional church's ministerial structures. Many young people growing up today have never personally encountered vibrant Christian ministry. Put simply, they do not view the ministry, in any of its forms, as having significance for the world in which they live. It has nei-ther formed nor informed their lives. The Holy Spirit is going to continue to create and nourish souls that are generous, but the church must present its ministe-rial life as an opportunity for that generosity to be expressed. This implies living contact between youth and committed minis-ters of the gospel. To the extent that religious communities and diocesan personnel move away from youth, they move away from the future and sever the lines of support that the institutions are there to provide. It is not enough for a vocation director to enter a high school or a college for the purpose of giving yet another career-day presentation. One must enter a college or high school to stay and to witness. As St. Francis of Assisi once told his fol-lowers, "Preach the gospel. Use words if necessary." I served the Dodge City diocese for two years as director of vocations, a short tenure that corresponds to the national average. There are no Catholic high schools in this very rural diocese. Many young people growing up there have never met a religious sister. Parish communities tend to be solid and wholesome, but pastoring tends to be short in tenure. As in many places in the Review for Religious country, beleaguered pastors are only too happy to turn over youth work to lay volunteers. Is it any surprise that young people choose to remain among the laity when they have been led and inspired by lay leaders? I am in no way indicting the collaboration of the laity in this and other ministerial venues. The question is one of collaboration and presence. Ordained priests and deacons and religious women and men bring with them a symbol-laden presence of Christ. When they disappear from the scene, much more is lost than another set of hands. After almost a year of consultation with the religious con-gregations of women at work in the diocese, we began a project that was seen as preliminary discipleship formation. We brought young men and women together to live for a weekend with priests -and religious. The students prayed with them and received from them basic instruction in prayer techniques and discernment. The key, as we saw it, was simply that they encountered priests and religious. We tried to create opportunities for sparks to fly. I am currently involved in a similar project with the diocese of Columbus. Essential to the success of such a program, however, is the ability to identify those who are already leaders and who dis-play the requisite vocational qualities as well. (I have written about this in "Discerning Vocations," in the 1 May 1993 issue of America.) Liberating Youth There is yet another theol.ogical supposition behind the methodology of these weekend experiences. For anyone to respond to the call of God in vocation, freedom is required. Sin, in all its varieties and ramifications, keeps us from being free and thus impedes our response to God's initiative. The Holy Father again offers a worthy perspective: Freedom. is essential to vocation, a freedom which when it gives a positive response appears as a deep personal adher-ence, as a loving gift or rather as a gift given back to the giver who is God who calls, an oblation: "The call," Paul VI once said, "is as extensive as the response. There cannot be vocations unless they be free, that is, unless they be spon-taneous offerings of oneself, Conscious, generous, total . Oblations, we call them: here lies in practice the heart of the matter . It is the humble and penetrating voice of Christ, who says, today, as yesterday, and even more than Septentber-October 1996 Klein ¯ Vocations and the Crisis of Communal Life yesterday: Come. Freedom reaches its supreme foundation: precisely that of oblation, of generosity, of sacrifice." (PDV §36) The methodological presupposition of those working with potential candidates for vocations of special consecration should be that they are not yet free. They are restrained by forces per-sonal, spiritual, sociological, cultural, and even biological. All of these taken together are what St. Paul refers to as the flesh which is at war with the spirit. The categories are worth some explana-. tion, even though space admits of only a few examples. On the level of the personal, candidates may present them-selves for ministry because their poor self-image demands a role in life which creates a seemingly instant image of respect. Or, conversely, potential candidates may be unable even to consider a ministerial vocation because their self-image is entirely too neg-ative. They may want to consider priesthood or religious life, but only after they have put themselves together spiritually. Their idea would be, "When I have overcome sin, I will consider such a life." What is lacking here is the comprehension that a life of apostolic charity may be the very instrument that the Holy Spirit desires to use for the person's redemption. All programs of formation have as their agenda the progres-sive liberation of candidates from all of the forces that would keep their choice for or against vocation from being truly free. I now work part-time in a college seminary, and I would say that our raison d'etre is exactly this, to free young men and make them ready to respond. Hence, the necessity for directors of vocations to create or support structures that teach young people the fun-damentals of Christian life and at least a basic knowledge of how to discern the work of the Holy Spirit in their life. Of course, any adequate Christian anthropology would insist that, ultimately, humanity is freed, or healed, only by the inter-venient action of God. Wholeness was an attribute of God long before it became a goal of the recovery movement. That being true, only prayer, which represents an actual encounter with God, can effect freedom, or healing, or wholeness. Only the intimacy bf prayer creates disciples, and only disciples, even if they be merely nascent ones, can respond to God's call to a lifetime of. consecrated service. So the discipleship programs sponsored by recruiters must have three elements: direct personal contact with hero-mentors, pedagogical formation in the fundamentals of Review for Religious Christian belief and practice, and an opportunity for growth in prayer. My past experience as the director of spiritual formation in a college seminary program reinforces this triad. I am personally convinced that many people move towards and away from voca-tions to the priesthood and religious life without developing even a modicum of spiritual intimacy. I doubt that this phe-nomenon is new. I suspect it has been a continual struggle and task in every house where formation occurs. I am certainly not presenting my own limited experience as the answer to the vocation crisis. What I am arguing is that success in the future willprobably demand that vocation personnel actually do some of the work of initial formation in disci-pleship. I think it would be fair to say that what I am really suggesting is that those charged with the recruitment and guid-ance of ministerial vocations see them-selves as being, after the family, among the first of young people's mentors of forma-tion. A certain amount of formation, or growth in Christian discipleship, is needed before potential candidates are ready for entry into formalized preparatory pro- What I am really suggesting is that those charged with the recruitment and guidance of ministerial vocations see themselves as being, after the family, among the first of young people's mentors of formation. grams. Previously this formation was the work of other Catholic institutions, but the presumption that others have already pre-pared such candidates is no longer tenable, and ignoring the shift that has occurred will leave recruiters wondering what happened to all the vocations. The Formation of the Formers In January 1994 the Roman Congregation for Catholic Education (of Seminaries and Institutes of Study), under the lead-ership of Cardinal Pio Laghi, released Directives Concerning the Preparation of Seminary Educators. The work considers the for-mation of those charged with formation. It notes that a unique combination of talent, charism, experience, and education must Septentber-October 1996 Klein ¯ Vocations and the Crisis of Communal Life exist if a person doing formation work is to find the experience productive and personally rewarding: The vocation of the educator.implies, on the one hand, a certain "charism," which is expressed in gifts of nature and of grace, and, on the other, certain capacities and attitudes that must be acquired. In every consideration regarding the personality of the educator, this double aspect must be kept in mind; each of the characteristics desirable in a seminary educator presents elements which are, in a manner of speak-ing, innate, and others which must be progressively devel-oped by means of study and experience. (Directives §25) The formati'on of vocation directors can be considered along these same lines of thought. To begin with, though, readers may be wondering whether any such formation actually exists. It does. To their credit, national organizations have done much to provide neophytes in the field with at least that quintessential American pedagogical experience called the workshop conference. Actually a great deal of formal information is imparted at such gatherings, and the opportunity for informal guidance by those more expe-rienced in the work is incalculable. Also, it seems safe to assume that the formation which voca-tion directors receive for their own religious life or priesthood is itself a real and efficacious, albeit remote, preparation for the specific ministries of vocational recruitment, discernment, and guidance. By means of a broad education, formation programs are supposed to equip their students to enter diverse ministries without particular, prolonged preparation. The liberal arts should prepare us for a future that will always be ambiguous. The Directives do the church a real service in publicly dis-cussing the'criteria for evaluating persons being considered for seminary formation work. Rectors and bishops have, of course, always used some sort of criteria, but the document makes it pos-sible for those unnamed and perhaps unexamined criteria to be discussed and evaluated in an open forum. This is good: open collaboration tends to expose the weaknesses any individual's approach may have. It also reinforces and propagates strengths. I would like to conclude my observations by offering a crite-rion for identifying which candidates, among the many doing ministry in the church, are likely to do best at the ministry of vocational recruitment. The evaluative question I would pose is this: Are they community builders? Review for Relig%us Ecclesia: Community of the Summoned Consider what vocations to the priesthood or religious life really are. They are calls from God the Father to serve Christ by serving the community which is the church. Vocations have their ¯genesis and scope in community life. They are instruments of God in bringing together the "community of the summoned": the ecclesia (in New Testament Greek), the "church." They exist to Order to nourish, to enliven, and to augment the church. "In the church's very name, ecclesia, we find its deep vocational aspect, for the church is a 'convocation,' an assembly of those who have been called" (PDV §34). Referring to priestly vocations, the Holy.Father has noted, "In this context the ecclesi-ology of communion becomes decisive for understanding the identity of the priest, his essential dignity and his voca-tion and mission among the people of. God and in the world" (PDV§12). Certainly the many theological, pas-toral, and liturgical changes that occurred with the Second Vatican Council have had, among their effects, a disturbing of the relative tranquillity that should normally characterize a healthy institution. Most Catholics are willing to admit, however, that the disturbance has been outweighed by the renewal of evan-gelical life that the council has inaugurated in the church. I do not think vocations dropped because of the conciliar reforms (although their implementation may have occasioned a number of new problems). Rather, I believe that communal val-ues and communities themselves are being undermined by con-temporary life. The disintegration of vibrant communities into increasingly isolated individuals and solipsistic agendas is a prob-lem not only for the church, but also for modern technological society as a whole. Consider the changes that have occurred in the latter half of this century. The superhighways that now connect huge metropolises across vast stretches of land have rendered superfluous many small communities that once prospered between those cities. They have The disintegration of vibrant communities into increasingly isolated individuals and solipsistic agendas is a problem not only for the church, but also for modern technological society as a whole. Septe~nber-October 1996 Klein * Vocations and the Crisis of Communal Life. also restructured urban life itself. Distinct intra-urban neighbor-hoods once flourished because it took time to move from one side of the city to another. Today mass merchandising has sup-pressed small, community-enhancing workshops and businesses. With the disappearance of the family farm went the collapse Of the small town and the small rural parish. The knowledge explosion made possible by the computer age has created a world of spe-cialization that renders small hospitals, small colleges, and other small institutions seemingly superfluous. Endangered by the collapse of these communities are the communal values upon which cultural life depends. Increasingly undifferentiated national media now serve a country such as the United States, but, instead of promoting communal values, they seem only to be forums where increasingly strident and diverse views make themselves heard. One can now ask at the end of the 20th century: Who are we? Is there any we left among us? The collapse of a communal identity is certainly a formative influence on those presenting themselves as candidates for min-istry. Many of the candidates with whom I have worked came to the seminary out of a faith experience which is highly individu-alistic, often with little or no contact with the institutional church. This can be viewed as a sign of the Holy Spirit raising up leaders even beyond the reaches of contemporary church ministry--it is, after all, how the church received the gift of St. Paul's vocation. But it also raises the challenge of how to link the individual's own experience with that of the larger Christian community. Remember that Paul spent three years undergoing a process of communal immersion before beginning his ministerial life (see Ga 1:18). If the basic presuppositions of New Age spirituality were to be catalogued, certainly a useful project given their pervasive influ-ence, a foundational tenet would undoubtedly be the absolute, almost solipsistic, supremacy of the individual. Spirituality itself is seen not as a relational mystery which envelopes and possesses the human person, but as yet another object to be acquired by an individual whose weltanschauung is essentially that of the con-sumer. Pastores dabo vobis is trenchant in this regard: In the present context there is also a certain tendency to view the bond between human beings and God in an indi-vidualistic and self-centered way, as if God's call reached the individual by a direct route without in any way passing Review for Religious through the community. Its purpose is held to be the ben-efit, or the very salvation, of the individual called and not a total dedication to God in the service of the community. We thus find another very deep and at the same time sub-de threat which makes it impossible to recognize and accept joyfully the ecclesial dimension which naturally marks every Christian vocation, and the priestly vocation in particular: as the council reminds us, priestly ministry acquires its gen-uine meaning and attains to its fullest truth in serving and in fostering the growth of the Christian community and the common priesthood of the faithful. (PDV§37) Community Belonging Vocations are needed for communities, and they come out of communities. Their entire genesis and purpose are involved in communal life. Vocations are on the decline in the church today because communal life is waning. One simply does not offer one-self for ministry to a community if one has never felt oneself to be a part of a community. I suspect that, if Catholicism persists in declining as a communal way of life, vocations will continue to evaporate. Lives are to be offered to other people and to the God whom we encounter in others. If postghetto Catholicism is not a place of meaningful and life-giving encounter with others, if it becomes iust another competing intellectual system or a political agenda, then it will cease being a living organism that inspires men and women to sacrifice their futures for its continuance. One does not bring oneself to Pope Paul VI's notion of personal obla-tion without being able to envision the faces of real men and women for whom. the offering is made. How can anyone expect vocations to be fostered unless it be through community building and sustenance? Other sociological structures once existed to create the communities upon which vocational recruiters could depend. Those structures have either disappeared or found themselves transformed into priestless and sisterless entities. I suspect, however, that community building still will show itself to be the single most important quality that postghetto Catholic education offers the American church. How poignant, then, is this quality of community building which the Directives insist should characterize formational ministry: It can be said that the educator is authentic in his service and responds to the demands of his priestly ideal only in the measure to which he knows how to commit himself and Septe~nber-October 1996 Klein * Vocations and the Crisis of Communal Life sacrifice himself for the unity of the community and when in his thoughts, in his attitudes, and in his prayer he reflects concern for the union and the cohesion of the community entrusted to him. (Directives §29) Who needs to be in vocation work today? Who has the apti-tude? Those who can build communities. People who have shown an ability to unite other people around them. Those who can effectively enunciate the common values and longings of a human-ity destined for Trinitarian communion. If recruiting were the only task facing vocation personnel today, a good-looking face, a fast car, and call-forwarding would suffice. Recruiters today need to examine their venues and identify vibrant Christian communities. This is where they need to be. Sadly enough, in many situations they will need to help create such communities from scratch. I do not think that I am offering merely another theological or pastoral perspective. On the con-trary, I am begging recognition of a sociological certainty that creates both a pastoral imperative and an ecclesial opportunity. JUST PUBLISHED-- The Best of the Review - 5 The Church and Consecrated Life (see insert at back of book for ordering) "At a time when hope for religious life and its future is once again on the rise, the articles in this book offer an exceptional and much needed panorama of the critical issues of renewal faced by contemporary men and women religious. Elizabeth McDonough and David Fleming have done us an enormous favor in bringing together the Best of the Review in this area. I recommend this book enthusiastically; its authors take us another step along the journey to that future for religious life for which we all long." --Se~nSammon FMS Vicar General Marist Brothers, Rome ¯ Review for Religious MICHAEL TIDD Reflections of a Fin de Si cle Novice During their novitiate experiences, all religious, in one way or another, examine the identity and purpose of their respective congregations. In this era of religious life--in the wake of Vatican Council II and at the end of the 20th century--this essay is a personal reflection on the mysterious and profound experience of the novitiate of the Brothers of the Christian Schools in the United States today. Two questions frame this reflection: How am I being formed? and what am I being formed for? I hope that my responses bring a helpful perspective to pres-ent- day views of American religious life. Five years of community experience have vividly demonstrated that words like formation and novitiate carry many meanings. Often brothers' memories of formation are bittersweet. For readers of this article, the words probably conjure up all sorts of images. Most of these readers are likely to be religious whose formation occurred before or during Vatican Council II. For me Vatican II is as immediate as Trent and even Nicea, for I was not born until 1970. I am wholly a product of the post-Nicene, post-Tridentine, post-Vatican church. My formation is radically different from that of my brothers of the pre-Vatican era, both in theory and external practice. My novitiate time comes after five years of experience in community and the apostolate. Thus, it is less an initiation than a time for analysis and integration of my experiences as a Christian Brother. Michael Tidd FSC lives at Christian Brothers' Novitiate; Roosevelt Hall; One Tallcot Lane; Skaneateles, New York 13152. September-October 1996 Tidd * Reflections of a Fin de Si~cle Novice This integration occurs in the context of prayer and study: of the gospel, the church, the charism of our founder (John Baptist de La Salle), our Rule, our vows, our efforts at renewal since Vatican II, and issues of personal development and self-awareness. Compared with the intense schedule of yore, ours is decep-tively simple. Large blocks of time are discretionary. The indi-vidual is responsible for developing his life of prayer and study without the framework of an all-embracing fixed schedule of reli-gious exercises and study times. Our schedule for common prayer (morning and evening prayer, daily Mass both at home and in the local parish) is scant compared with the novitiate timetable of our former Rule.l Indeed, the Rule itself, revised after thirty years of experi-mentation beginning in 1956, is no longer oriented toward ful-fillment of obligations. It is couched largely in inspirational language, more exhortative than legal. Evaluation of the novice's suitability for the brother's vocation is based less on observance of the Rule's prescriptions than on his total aptitude (spiritual, intel-lectual, emotional, psychosexual) for our way of life. The devel-opment of the individual as a human being is weighed equally with his spiritual and intellectual progress. The crux of the difference between the modern novitiate and the earlier one lies in the time to oneself in the novitiate. This involves both theoretical and practical discontinuities. Formerly, the theoretical aim was to be "formed," shaped according to an abstract model of the ideal Christian Brother. The dual instru-ments of the Rule and the director of novices molded the novice into a brother. The novice was exhorted, and ideally strove, to let himself be recast in this form, leaving his past (and self) behind. The practical discontinuities were many. Life was lived by the schedule, with few if any choices about how time was spent. Influences on one's development were carefully regulated by Rule and director. Exact observance of the Rule was the primary virtue: inasmuch as one did so, one incarnated the community's charism and was making progress in this way of life. In the present novitiate, formation might not be the appro-priate term anymore. Present-day novices "form themselves" rather than "are formed by external agents." They do this by eval-uating prior and present choices in the light of the gospel and of the community's charism and life. Daily I confront issues such as personal prayer, interpersonal relationships, study, participation in Review for Religious the-lectures and conferences, the common labor needed to main-tain the house. I learn about religious life, the community's charism, and human development from religious, secular, lay, and clerical sources. The director of novices still plays a crucial role: he is the agent of accountability, calling me to reconcile my lived choices with the norms of our life. He is the one who helps the novice avoid the trap of self-delusion and evaluates the quality of one's self-formation. The modern novice, then, is like a sculptor who, in his choices of daily living, chips away at his raw material to shape something new: himself. The novice sculpts in the light of guidance from the Holy Spirit, the gospel, the charism and life of De La Salle, and the insti-tute's tradition being lived by his brothers and himself. Without a normal job and in relative separation from one's familiars, one lacks all the usual props. Daily I encounter three basic realities: God, my brothers, and myself. All of this can be harrowing, as questions of identity and ontology emerge. Two options appear: growth, however painful, or escape and denial. Even here it is possible to fill the. day with trivialities, ducking the hard questions. I could "make the novitiate" without any real change, but that would be a colossal waste of time. Ultimately, the choice is in my hands. There will be nothing to hide behind down the line if real conversion does not happen here, a conversion for which I must take responsibili.ty before God. The vows are less the end of the novitiate, then, than a beginning. They are the public beginning of a life already being defined by the consequences of my present choices, choices made in response to the call of God as perceived in the daily events of existence: "For this command which I enjoin on you today is not too mysterious and remote for you . No, it is something very near to you, already in your mouths, and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out" (Deuteronomy 30:11 and 14, NAB). In her book The Fire in These Ashes: A Spirituality of Contemporary Religious Life, Joan Chittister OSB aptly describes the dilemma of modern religious: "They want to know if there is anything going on now [emphasis mine] to prove that religious life remains worth the sacrifice of their own lives. Is there anything The crux of the difference between the modern novitiate and the earlier one lies in the time to oneself in the novitiate. Septonber-October 1996 Tidd¯ Reflections of a Fin de Si~cle Novice still life-giving here? Is there anything yet valuable enough to go on doing here? New members want to know if there is anything here that merits their coming to do, their coming to be.''2 In the novitiate I have understood her questions thus: For what am I being formed? In 1996 in the United States~ what is the life of the Brother of the Christian Schools for which I am preparing? The question is very specific because I am convinced that this process is not designed to create an abstract "religious," but a member of a specific community guided by a unique charism. Much contemporary literature on religious life leaves me vaguely disappointed. I do not see much written by those who will be around when the future of religious life will have become the present. More fundamentally, the discussion is so future oriented and spec-ulative that it leaves me wondering what we are to do here and now. I am not left rudderless, fortunately. God's command is not far away; it is close at hand. Since I see the novitiate's meaning as preparation for living as a Brother of the Christian Schools in 1996 and in 2006 and 2016 as well, I look to the community's intellectual and spiritual patrimony for a definition of that broth-erhood right now. The inspired work of many brothers has pro-duced two texts that address the threefold challenge of Perfectae caritatis: recommitment to the gospel, recovery of the founder's charism, and adapted renewal in the light of the signs of the times (see §2). These documents are The Brother of the Christian Schools in the World Today: A Declaration and our Rule of 1986. In thefin de si~cle, these texts provide clear, powerful, and dynamic state-ments of our identity and purpose. They are lights amidst the darkness of the waning millennium. The Declaration is a charismatic statement issued by our 39th General Chapter in 1967. It was prompted in part by its response to the question of introducing the priesthood into the community. The chapter rejected that innovation, saying what we are not and then issuing a positive proclamation of what we are. The modern Brother of the Christian Schools is a layman who, in response to a call from God, totally consecrates himself to the glory of the Trinity by public profession of vows. His total consecration of himself has its roots in his baptismal consecration.3 In an entirely lay institute, the brother places himself at the service of others in the context of a community "totally dedicated to the kingdom of God." Consecrated in community, he specifies his life of ser- Review for Religious vice to others in an educational mission "with special preference for the poor." Regardless of the social class of those he immedi-ately deals with, the brother totally orients his work towards the promotion of justice and those "whose poverty hinders their devel-opment as persons or their aptitude to receive the message of sal-vation revealed in Jesus Christ." The brother integrates his proclamation of the gospel with the total human development of his students and sees the school as "the pre-ferred but not the only means" of achieving the institute's mission.4 The Declaration stresses the fundamental aspects of our vocation as Brothers of the Christian Schools (neatly summarized twenty years later in the Rule): "consecration to God as a lay religious, apostolic ministry of edu-cation, especially of the poor, and community life.''5 The Declaration was for us the great clarion call to conversion in the wake of Vatican II. Indeed, in 1967 Brother Charles Henry Buttimer, then superior general, wrote: "It is. in light of the Declaration that we must read and under-stand the other texts of our General Chapter, including the [pro-visional] Rule and Constitutions. It is the basis of the doctrine you will find in each of them.''6 Making the bold ideals of the Declaration reality was the task of the institute in the years fol-lowing 1967, as the great revision of the Rule began. The Declaration's synthetic idea of our vocation is rooted deeply in the charism of John Baptist de La Salle. In response to a double contemplation of the needs of the poor and God's plan of salvation for all, he founded a community of brothers on the following basis. "The spirit of this Institute is a spirit of faith, which should induce those .who compose it not to look upon any-thing but with the eyes of faith, not to ~1o anything but in view of God, and to attribute all to God, [with the result that there is] an ardent zeal for the instruction of children [and] to procure the salvation of the children confided to their care." Internalizing this spirit is "of the utmost importance . The novices [should] apply themselves to acquire it; and those that are already members [should] make it their first care to preserve and increase it in themselves . "Those who failed to do so were to be considered "dead members.''7 These texts of the recent and distant past speak Much contemporary literature on religious life leaves me vaguely disappointed. Septentber-October 1996 Tidd ¯ Reflections o[a Fin de Si~cle Novice to the present as much as to the times which occasioned them. They address the essence of questions of identity and sustaining vision, questions which seem to bedevil many religious commu-nities today. The Rule coexists with the Declaration as a statement of iden-tity and purpose inasmuch as it is the fruit of over thirty years of experimentation and of applying the visionary statements of the Declaration. In addition (moreso than the Declaration) it bene-fits from the recovery of the real person of De La Salle through modern critical scholarship, a man long obscured by a profile more hagiographical than historical. The Rule, then, makes the call of the council real: it renews and adapts our understanding of our vocation as Brothers of the Christian Schools by pointing out a dynamic relationship between the challenges of modernity and our founding charism. As in the first 'rules of the community, pro-duced by De La Salle in collaboration with the brothers them-selves, the Rule is the work of the entire congregation, through successive general chapters and consultation with thousands of brothers around the world. It is a coherent and convincing description of this way of life and its raison d'etre. Both documents elaborate a fundamental principle: The brother's vocation is an all-encompassing way of life in unhesi-tatin~ response to the call of God in the depths of the brother's heart. Seeing in the life of the brother far more than the aposto-late or the vows alone is the key to the coherence and intelligibility of our identity, today and in the future. For several decades the brothers' mission of education has been shared with other religious, priests, and lay people. This reality. has been examined and embraced bysuccessive general chapters as a manifestation of the Holy Spirit in its life today. We have much to share with those who seek to define their profession as an apos-tolic mission in the spirit and tradition of John Baptist de La Salle. Such sharing and dialogue is ongoing all over the world.8 This recognition, however, forces the brothers to refine their identity even more sharply. The common apostolate alone simply will no longer suffice as an answer to the question of identity, given the signs of the times. Our identity as Brothers of the Christian Schools must transcend mission and reach to the very depths of our being. The chapter of 1966-67 articulated an initial, charismatic vision of the Brother of the Christian Schools today, and the Rule Review for Religious of 1986 specifies and refines that identity even further, in the light of ongoing renewal and lived experience since 1967. What makes us brothers is not solely our work, but the living integra-tion of the constitutive elements: consecration, community, mis-sion. Each must be related in dynamic harmony to the others. No single element should obscure the others. The importance of consecration as witness, lived in commu-nity and expressed by public vows, is evidenced by the Rule's claim that it is our "first apostolate." This mode of living indicates the transcendent action of God in our world, and points towards the covenant between God and human beings. The common life is essential to our identity for two reasons. First, the brothers need the mutuality and sharing of community life for their spiritual and human develop-ment. Second, our brotherhood in com-munity and our "selfless presence among those [the brothers] serve" is to "witness to the possibility of creating true broth-erhood among nations.''9 Our mission of teaching is rooted in our very foundation as a community. De La Salle brought his first schoolmasters into community and gave them a profound spirituality--the Christian teacher as an ambassador of Jesus Christ--in order to make the mission of Christian education possible and fruitful. We do the same today, for the same reason. "The Brothers, in fidelity to the call of the Spirit and the charism of their Founder, consecrate themselves to God in order to exercise, by association, their apostolic ministry of education" (emphasis mine).~° What does all this mean in terms of the purpose of the novi-tiate? Our statements of identity tell me that it is my consecrated life in community which I bring to the mission and which sus-tain me in it. Since this integrated totality is what makes a brother's life different from that of other persons who share in the apostolate of Christian education, the interiorization of con-secrated life in community and for the mission is what I must be about this year. What must concern me this year and during my entire life as a brother is not simply what I am to do, but how I am to live. I should be about the living of a life of ongoing con- The brother's vocation is an all-encompassing way of life in unhesitating response to the call of God in the depths of the brother's heart. Septentber-October 1996 Tidd¯ R~flections o~a Fin de Si~cle Novice version--to the Jesus of the Gospels and to the poor--the same evangelical journey that inspired John Baptist de La Salle to leave behind his former vocation as a canon of Reims and begin anew.n The very elements that seem so out of proportion here in the novitiate (prayer/consecration and community life) are precisely those habits of the mind and heart I must take with me back into the apostolate. Those realities are the soil from which the brother can hope to draw nourishment for the demands of the aposto-late. If he fails to. attend to the soil, the flower of his apostolic work will soon wither and die. If consecration and community become mere slogans or, even worse, contradictions to my daily life, my life as a brother will be in vain. Insofar as I embody the spirit of faith and zeal and express it in a community life that is lived fully, then my work will be Lasallian and my novitiate and my brotherhood will have meaning, both in the fin de si~cle and beyond. "I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. Choose life, that you and your descendants may live" (Deuteronomy 3 0:19). Notes ~ Thirty-seventh General Chapter, Rule of Government of the Institute of the Brothers of the Christian Schools (Rome, 1947), pp. 192-193. This document was abrogated by the 39th General Chapter of 1966-1967;.all subsequent references to the Rule are to the text promulgated in 1987 after the 41st General Chapter of 1986. 2 Joan Chittister OSB, The Fire in These Ashes: A Spirituality of Contemporary Religious Life (Kansas City: Sheed and Ward, 1995), p. viii. 3 Thirty-ninth General Chapter, The Brothers of the Christian Schools in the World Today: A Declaration (Winona: St. Mary's College Press, 1968), article 13:1,2, p. 12. The author is indebted and grateful to Brothers Gerard Rummery FSC, Michael McKenery FSC, and Luke Salm FSC, whose novitiate lectures and informally shared insights were invaluable in this essay's preparation. The Declaration's genesis and enduring signifi-cance is well presented in Brother Luke's Religious Institute in Transition: The Story of Three General Chapters (Romeoville, Illinois: Christian Brothers Publications, 1992). 4 Declaration, articles 13:3, 4, 5, and 6. s Forty-first General Chapter, The Rule of the Brothers of the Christian Schools (Rome: Tipografia S.G.S., 1987), p. 27. 6 Foreword to the Declaration, p. iv. 7. John Baptist de La Salle. "De l'esprit de cet Institut," ROgles Communes (1718 ed.), in Rule, pp. 15-17; Rule, p. 15. s Rule, articles 17-17d and 146. Review for Religious 9 Rule, articles 24 and 9. lO Rule, art. 2. ~ This concept of De La Salle's life as an evangelical journey is superbly treated in St. John Baptist de La Salle: Announcing the Gospel to the Poor, by Brothers Michel Sauvage FSC and Miguel Campos FSC (Romeoville: Christian Brothers Conference, 1981). Presence Silence and stillness of night. How so? My eyes, my ears cry: False! Clouds scud cross a moon face; branches stretch and bend, flip, whip, and bow; leaves shiver, quiver, quake; whispers, trills, chirps, and whistles perforate the air. Stillness and silence? Not true. Yet there is a sense that knows it is so. But what? A minus of mortal motion ? A vacuum of virile voice? Perhaps, yet, more, I think. The airs of skin tingle and respond to it; an inward ear is pricked; a sacred presence permeates the space; a sacred voicelessness resounds within my soul around my self where I am held all stilled to wait to thirst to hunger a-lone. all one. Doris Bissonnette RJM September-October 1996 breaking boundaries 494 CLEMENTE BARRON Racism and Religious Life I did not learn about racism by taking sociological courses in school. I learned about racism by being born a Mexican- American in Texas in these United States. In the 1940s and 1950s, the decades in which I was born and raised, racism was an acceptable way of life. It was woven into the very fabric of our social and political life, our educa-tional and economic systems, and even into the way we practiced our Catholic faith. I did not have a choice in this matter, nor did my family or any of the other people who made up my world at that time. The existence of racism does not depend upon an indi-vidual's say-so, or even upon many people saying that it does or does not exist. I am sure that many of the public-opinion polls taken during the '50s and '60s were saying that racism existed only in isolated sections of the United States. Yet we now look back at that era of American his-tory and find many examples of racism in every segment of our society. Racism exists because it has been with us from the very beginning of our history. It continues to assert itself everywhere until someone or some movement challenges it. It will not disappear on its own. The gains the United States has made in regard to racism are mea-sured by wars, lives, and the heroic witness of courageous people, regardless of their position in society. Most of the Clemente Barr6n CP has worked with Hispanics during the twenty-five years of his priestly ministry. He lives at Casa Pasionista Guadalupe; 700 Waverly; San Antonio, Texas 78201. Review for Religious time these people had no special awareness of making any sig-nificant contributions to the eradication of racism. They just wanted a more just society for themselves and their children. It is not easy to write about racism. It is especially not easy when one is writing for a readership that shares the same faith or even the same vows and way of life or the same commitment to a social-justice agenda. It becomes still more difficult when all three of these factors are present. Yet it is the same sense of God, the same shared values, and the same commitment to justice that give me confidence to express these experiences and considerations of racism. There are many misunderstandings when it comes to racism. People do not know how to converse about racism as brothers and sisters in an open and free exchange of thoughts, opinions, and ideas. Many other issues get in the way of a good conversation on this subject. People of color tend to get angry and vitriolic and people of the dominant society tend to feel hurt or guilty when they talk about the subject. People of color often assume a victim's stance. People of the dominant society often separate themselves personally from racism: "Why are we making a fuss about this now since we are not racists?" Frequently people of color offer cosmetic solutions to this deeply complex, multilayered issue, while people of the dominant society offer solutions that address their own needs but not those of the people of color. The result is that we talk at each other, preach to each other, and instruct each other, but rarely have a good conversation with each other. Complexities of Racism This whole issue becomes even more complicated when we place this conversation within the context of religion and reli-gious life. Church teaching looks upon racism as evil and has rightly condemned it. In this context, racism is talked about in terms of sin, even as one of the most serious sins of our time. When we enter into a conversation about racism at this level, we highly personalize the issue. No one wants to begin a discussion with the feeling that she or he is being iudged a public sinner. Yet many religious feel that way when ~he discussion is about racism. Such a starting point makes for a poor conversation. On the other hand, many of us may not be aware of our racism just because we do not think of ourselves as racist; in fact, Septentber-October 1996 Barr6n * Racism and Religious Life we can identify many instances that demonstrate to us that we .are not racist. We do not want to be racist, and we believe that we are not, just on the basis of sheer willpower. Yet those of us who have tried to overcome addictive habits by sheer Willpower know that it takes more than goodwill to overpower a deeply ingrained habit or way of life. Defining Racism Racism is not easy to define. People of color tend to have a different definition and understanding of it than those of the dominant culture. People of color usually define racism as insti-tutionalized prejudice; since they do not control our society's insti-tutions, they do not consider themselves racists in the strict sense. People of the dominant culture have a difficulty with this concept because to them it says that people of color cannot be prejudiced--which is not true at all. People of color are just as prejudiced as other people. When it comes to racism, the issue is not prejudice; it is institutionalized prejudice. This is a classic case of one group wanting to focus on what is common (prejudice) and the other wanting to focus on what is not (control of insti-tutions). Progress is made when both sides accept each other's insights. Learning Racism I was not aware that I was living in a racist society when I was growing up in rural Texas. Life in the late '40s and '50s was hard, and in many ways society was pretty well defined. I was aware of the dos and don'ts of such a society. I knew that we lived in a part of town where most of the "mesicans" lived and that another part of town was "nigger town." I knew that our city offi-cials would always be "anglos" and the other leaders of our county and state would be, too. I could not conceive of a pastor or bishop being other than anglo. I knew that mesicans and niggers were not allowed to use the public facilities and fountains that anglos used. I also knew that we could not go into certain stores, like the bar-ber shop. It all seemed so normal. As time went by, other things became clearer. You just knew that you were not to do much socializing with those who were not of your ethnic grouping or race. At school the teachers were Review for Religious always careful to line us up so that we would be paired with our own kind. This was especially true in the lower grades, when we had to hold hands while standing in line. Somewhere along the weeks and years, you began to realize that socially it was not acceptable for you to date, much less think of marrying, anyone outside your ethnic or racial group. There were some exceptions, but the people involved in them were usually not socially acceptable in the first place. That was the way things were, and that was it. I do not remember my parents taking me aside to teach me the socialization rules of rural Texas. The time came when you just knew. You could have casual relationships with persons of another eth-nic or racial group. You could work for them and even beside them, but you just did not socialize with them on an equal basis. You just knew that, if push came to shove, you could not count on them. That is the way life was lived. Moreover, if you were a person of color, you felt you must project a friendly attitude at all times if you were going to be accepted by the dominant society. Someone who did not do that was seen as "not fitting in." Those who dared to demand rights and equality were considered troublemakers. This was brought home to us time and time again. In the early '60s, for example, when the civil-rights movement was begin-ning to peak, some of my friends went off to a Catholic college in San Antonio to continue their education. Home for the summer, a couple of them went to get a haircut at a barbershop owned by a member of the Knights of Columbus. They were refused service. They refused to leave. This caused a big scene. Eventually they left, but the incident produced a lot of ill feelings. These nice "Mexican" youths, accepted byall as hardworking and ambitious young men, had now become troublemakers. After a couple of years that barbershop was integrated, but I am sure that, in the eyes of many, these young men were marked for life as trouble-makers. We do not want to be racist, and we believe that we are not, just on the basis of sheer willpower. New Place, Old Ways I grew up in the era when the high-school seminary was a normal first step toward the priesthood and religious life. When L49 Septentber-Oaober 1996 Barrdn ¯ Racirm and Religious Life I expressed a desire to become a priest and religious, I was not sur-prised at all to be given the chance to attend a seminary prepara-tory high school. The school was in St. Louis, Missouri. Finding out if I had a vocation took me outside Texas for the first time, far away from my family and all familiar surroundings. It was only later on that I realized that the seminary prep school that I attended and the province I entered as a religious were, for me, extensions of the social realities of my youth in rural Texas. For me nothing had changed. The vast major.ity of my schoolmates were still anglos. All my superiors were anglos, too. I continued to see life around me through the same lenses I had used in rural Texas. I continued to use the same social categories and constructs that I had developed for myself in Texas. I was unable to realize that I had in fact been "liberated" from my Texas social environment and that I could really have new kinds of rela-tionships with others. Some experiences from my prep-school days come to mind and illustrate this point for me. In themselves these experiences are insignificant, yet like all experiences they shed light on what our life is about when seen within a wider context. For the first couple of years that I was at the prep school, we did not go home for the Christmas holidays. The big Christmas social event was the carnival. The seniors and college students would fix up the gym so that we could enjoy an evening of fun and games. It was a lot of hard work for them, but a lot of fun for us younger ones. At one of these events, a couple of guys wanted to take my picture and also wanted our picture to be taken together. I ran away from that all night long. I now believe they wanted me as a friend, and not just as a schoolmate, but I remember thinking at that time: "Why do they want a picture of me?" I remember, on another occasion, a classmate starting to play the piano on the spur of the moment in one of the music rooms. I started singing, and we had such a good time. When I was com-plimented on my singing, I remember being embarrassed. I said to myself: "I really do not know how to sing. He is just saying that!" I really did not recognize this as an affirmation and act of friendship until much later in my life. Another experience was a negative one. One day in my junior or senior year, I was put in charge of a work detail that involved getting the dry laundry sorted out into the individual laundry boxes. This was something new for me, being placed in charge of Review for ReliKious a work detail, and I was feeling good. As I made my way to the basement laundry room, I overheard a boy say to another in a normal voice: "I'm going back to the director and ask to work somewhere else. I'm not going to let a Mexican tell me what to do." I do not remember feeling much of anything. For me it was the exception for "Mexicans" to tell anglos what to do, regardless of education, expertise, or experience. That is the way life was then, and I accepted it. Upon reflection these experiences say something to me because I now see them within a social structure that hampered my power as an individual. I am not saying complete powerlessness, but certainly enough that my efforts to make it in life included special inhibitions about making any waves. While I recognize that there are some definite equalities in life and that all persons encounter some unjust situations that they must learn how to deal with boldly, I also know that some specific societal norms and customs made prisoners of me and others sharing my minority status. Racism and the'effects of racism were alive and well within my social environment, even in the prep school. The fact that I was not aware of all that was going on in terms of racism did not prevent my negative experience of racism. Awareness My first assignment after ordination in 1970 was to a retreat center in Houston, Texas. In the previous year a new association of Mexican-American priests had been formed: Padres Asociados para Derecbos Religiosos, Educativos, y Sociales (PADRES). Two rep-resentatives of PADRES came to visit me shortly after my arrival; we had a long talk. They were recruiting me for the organiza-tion. They talked to me about racism and discrimination in the church against Hispanics. I kept telling them that I did not feel discriminated against, and I did not think that our community was racist. While I could accept the fact that we lived in a racist society and that some people we lived with were racist, I had not yet come to an acceptance that my church was racist, much less my province. I thought I had really escaped racism. Only later did I discover that I had not escaped it; I had merely (and conveniendy) denied its existence within mylife experience. One reason why I began to reevaluate my position on this issue was my involvement with Hispanics at all levels of my life. L499-- September-October 1996 Barrdn ¯ Raci.rm and Religious Life We generally do not think about how social constructs such as words and language, policies and directives, and administrative and organizational structures welcome certain peopie or groups of people and exclude others. -- oo I began to listen to the stories of the Hispanic peoples who were becoming part of my ministerial life. I also began to appreciate the life stories of my own family as I heard them being repeated at family celebrations and gatherings. Every time I visited my aunts and uncles, I heard how difficult it was to be Hispanic and work for the church. It would be a mistake to assume that these people, my relatives and those I accompa-nied in ministry, were bitter and dis-illusioned people. There came a point at which I realized that these accounts were testimonies of peo-ple who loved the church even though they had suffered much at its hands. The most common theme woven through these stories was exclusion on the basis of ethnicity. Some were told in anger, some in resignation, and others just as com-mentaries to life. A fe.w of them may illustrate what I mean. When my parents would talk about their wed-ding day in 1935, they would tell us how they had to drive to the "Mexican" Church for their cere-mony. This church was, in reality, a mission of the parish church, a good ten miles away. We did not need much explanation, for we knew that Mexicans were not wel-comed in the main parish church. My mother also talked about how they had to stop for an hour or so in town on their way back home. They were very hun-gry and thirsty by the time they got there, since they had fasted from midnight to receive Holy Communion. They had to eat in the park.like area in front of the courthouse, because no restaurant would be open to them. In 1973 I began working in Los Angeles at a parish that had been forced into having a Sunday Mass in Spanish because the pastor did not think that there were enough Spanish-speaking parishioners within th~ parish boundaries. The parish finally put in a Spanish Mass after being pressured by a few vocal people. This change had taken place a year before I started working there Revie-w for Religious on weekends. By the time I left that parish to move on to another assignment in October 1975, a good deal of growth had taken place. We had standing room only at the Spanish Mass, a choir, eight Movimiento Familiar Cristiano (CFM) reflection groups that met every two weeks, a catechetical program in Spanish for more than 120 children, two Hispanic men who had applied to become (and eventually did become) deacons, and other signs of life and growth. What this said to me was that Hispanics who had been liv-ing in the area for years did not become involved in church life until there were pastoral leaders ready to welcome and support them. In more recent times, in a Los Angeles rectory, about a dozen of us who had gathered for a penance service were engaged in a lot of shoptalk around the dinner table. The talk came around to the different ethnic groups in the archdiocese, particularly the Spanish-speaking. One of the more recently ordained priests-- from a parish that had had a poor turnout for the Lenten penance service--wondered out loud why "these people" needed to have services in Spanish. A couple of nights later, for a penance service in a parish that does its best to serve various language groups, the church was packed. I heard confessions in English and Spanish for more than two hours. Over a dozen priests heard confessions in English, Spanish, and Vietnamese. A Deeper Analysis I cite these comparative incidents to illustrate institutional racism, even in the Catholic Church, and also to show that racism is not always intentional, malicious, or premeditated. In fact, I believe that in the majority of cases we are unaware that racism is operative in our lives. I believe that most people of good heart and goodwill have not reflected sufficiently on how social structures affect their ~lay-to-day lives. Our society's mores and laws have to a great extent come to exist, not in order to promote the reign 6f God, but to protect what the more wealthy and powerful incline to hoard for themselves. We generally do not think about how social constructs such as words and language, policies and direc-tives, and administrative and organizational structures welcome certain people or groups of people and exclude others. Racism is much more ingrained than we believe it is. Furthermore, even when there is recognition and formal repu- September-October 1996 Barr6n ¯ Racism and Religious Life diation of institutional racism, it becomes a major struggle to do something about it. It is not easy to change societal constructs, whether they be words, policies, or organizational structures. Along with our sense of guilt, we also experience a sense of help-lessness. We want to do something, we want to make a statement, we want to do the right thing; but, faced with the immense real-ity of it all, we do not know what to do. My Dealing with Racism I am aware of some evolution that has taken place within myself as I have struggled to understand the reality of racism. One of my earliest reactions to racism was the belief that making people alert to racism, aware of it, and acquainted with it would be enough to make them change their ways of thinking and act-ing. My task became one of revealing and unmasking the evil of racism so that racists would convict themselves and change, or feel the guilt of not changing. I really believed that people of good heart and goodwill would change, be converted, once they saw their own racism. So I became involved (and I still am) in programs and projects to raise the people's level of awareness regarding racism. I think that one reason why great numbers of people have been turned off by consciousness-raising is the way many "social-justice types" presented their case. Their rhetoric is often inflam-matory and confrontational. Sometimes these modern-day prophets use questionable data and much hyperbole to get across their points. I could admire their bravado, but I thought that, if they presented their points with calmness and serenity, then peo-ple would listen and would admit their racism. That is how I thought I would go about it. Sometimes this approach worked; more often it did not. I did not understand the power of denial, to use a psych.ological term, or the condition of blindness, to use a scriptural notion. You can say, "twenty million Hispanics," "eighty percent Hispanic," "one of the highest levels of poverty," "the highest dropout rate at school," and still get responses like "So what?" and "Prove it" and "Don't you think that it's their own personal fault they are the way they are?" Where racism is concerned, comprehension, understanding, reason, logic, facts, and all the other things that go into "knowing" can bring one only so far. Then you are going to Review for Religious have to say yes or no to that reality; you either embrace the truth or you walk away from it. I believe that the other approach, emotional and vitriolic, can at times be much more effective because it pulls us out of the ordinary rhythm of life and challenges us to affirm or deny our position with passion. Often it is in that passionate response that we come to know whether we are confronting truth or living a lie. It screams at us, and we cannot be deaf to it any longer. Living with Racism Once I owned up to the realization that it takes more than just awareness and acknowledgment of racism before some posi-tive response can take place, I was faced with a dilemma. What is an appropriate response to racism? If letting people know about racism, telling them facts or even leading them to some insight, is not enough, then what should I be doing? ' To do nothing is not an option. To be involved in educating people about the evil of racism is good, but it has not been very successful. So what is it that I can do? I have had to learn how to live with the reality of racism without allowing it to con-sume me or compromise me. Racism is both strong and insidious. If you are constantly fighting it, it will wear you down. If you never confront it, however, it will corrupt you and you will conform to it. I have had to learn how to live with it and still be sensitive to it. I have had to learn how to live within its grasp and still be able to name its evil. I have had to learn how to live with people who have no desire whatsoever for critical reflection on the subject and still not dis-count them as brothers and sisters. I also have had to learn that I could not fight racism alone and in isolation. I include in this understanding of aloneness or isolation the clique or inner circle that one forms when engaged in this kind of struggle. When you associate only with men and women of like mind and heart in regard to racism, you run the risk of having them become an extension of your own self. You then have two kinds of people, those who are enlightened by the truth and cleansed by the conversion experience (the inner circle) and What is an appropriate response to racism? To do nothing is not an option. September-October 1996 Barrdn * Racism an'd Religious Life those who are the great unwashed (the rest of humanity), who need to be purified before they can truly be a brother or a sister. And those of the inner circle know in their heart of hearts that hardly anyone from the great unwashed will ever make it to their level of purification and commitment. I believe that, in order to fight racism effectively, one needs to be allied with men and women who are at all stages of a~are-ness and commitment. There is no one of us who has always been right in each and every thought, word, deed, or omission. No one has a complete and correct theory of how life is to be lived. So we need to network with others who agree with us and with those who do not. We need to be in relationship with those who share our insights and with those who do not. We need to be a gen-uine brother or a sister to those who are racists and those who are not. Otherwise I do not see how we can bring about structural conversion. Some Strfita of Memory and Hope Looking at my parents today, I see an elderly couple who knew racism and its effects firsthand. They knew what it meant to live in segregated neighborhoods and in housing that was once chicken coops. My parents knew what it meant to be laid off work, to send their children to a broken-down building that served as the school for "Mexican" children, to be in the hospital without any insurance, to be excluded from stores and services, to be "Mexican" Catholics in a predominantly anglo community. I saw people come to our door and ask for advice or a helping hand or to have official letters read to them. We received many a Catholic missionary into our home, to eat with us and sometimes stay with us during the time they were evangelizing and catechizing. One day, as I shared this history with a group of people at a workshop, I found myself understanding the meaning of "being evangelized by the poor." My parents knew only one way to live in a racist society, and that was to love God with all they had and to love everyone else the best they could. Today I see a couple respected in their hometown and throughout the diocese for their perseverance, their faithfulness, their constancy in the faith and in the way they treat people. No matter how evil the structures were and how evil the people who strove to keep those structures in place may have been, my par- Review for Religious ents' faith has allowed them to overcome that evil. I do not see a bitter, broken-down couple blaming others for what they do not have, but a faith-filled couple continuing, by their example, to call others to a better way of life. Yes, society continues to be racist. The church continues to be racist. And, yes, there is racism even within my province. How should we respond, however, to our racism as a society, as a church and as a religious congregation, well, that is a conversation that we still need to have. Jesus Willing He could have multiplied currency as easy as loaves reasoned down other paths. he gave freely to everyone left the poor still poor rich with more than before. could have died another way unnoticed in desert sand lived as paralytic beggar with none coming to succor when angels stirred waters with a great serving spoon. for though he chose manger and tree, Peter and

Issue 14.6 of the Review for Religious, 1955. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious NOVEMBER 15, 1955 Jnfecjration . Joseph P. Fisher Community Workshop . ¯ Sister Mary Joselyn Renovation and Adaptation . Joseph F. Gallen Book Reviews Questions and Answers Index to Volume XIV VOLUME XlV NUMBER RI:::VIF::W FOR RI:::LIGIOUS VOLUME XIV NOVEMBER, 1955 NUMBER 6 CONTENTS INTEGRATION--Joseph P. Fisher, S.J . 281 COMMUNITY WORKSHOP OF THE DULUTH BENEDICTINES-- Sister Mary Joselyn, O.S.B . 287 SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENTS . 292 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION---Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 293 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 319 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . . 328 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 29. Tax on Religious Houses for General Expenses . 329 30. Salaries of Religious to be Assigned to Province . 329 31. Indulgence in the Form of a 3ubilee' . . 330 32. Order 'of Procedure for Former Mothers General . 330 33. Matter for Questioning in Canonical Inquiry . 331 34. Modesty of Eyes . 332 35. Bowing to Superior's Chair . 333 36. Illegitimacy, When an Impediment . 333 INDEX TO VOLUME XIV, 1955 . 334 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 19550 Vol. XIV, No. 6. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, .by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15. 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, $.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, Copyright, 1955, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Int:egrat:ion Joseph P. Fisher, S.J. ALL good Catholics cry out against secularism--the divorce of God from His world. They rightly insist that God must be made a part of a man's daily life, that God must be brough~t into education, business, government, entertainment--all the pursuits of human life. Men who insist on keeping God out of public life will make shipwreck of human life. If God is kept, so to speak, in church and not allowed to go out into the market place, the business world, the motion-picture halls, the places of government, then man will live most of his life without God and that is sure to be fatal. Although a religious is not likely to be tainted by secularism in the sense in which it is used above, there is a possibility of a some-what similar division in his life between the spiritual and ordinary life. How often a spiritual director finds that young religious going forth from the novitiate or from a period of some concentration.on the spiritual life into the active life feel very uncomfortable in their new surroundings and activities., Often enough they feel as if their spiritual life has evaporated almost overnight. At least it seems to them that they have suffered a great setback in their progress in the life of the soul; and that--naturally for good religious-~causes them concern. They then look upon their present way of life with some-thing like suspicion or even distrust, and they hanker, as it were, for the fleshpots of Egypt. It must be admitted that often, when such transfers are made, there actually is a loss of interest in spiritual things because of the, many distractions that duty and, perhaps, desire of relief bring into the lives of such religious. But much of the difficulty can be traced back to a wrong outlook on the spiritual life. In a sense it is alm0st inevitable that young, inexperienced minds develop a certain attitude on the spiritual life because of the way they approach it. Before they entered a seminary or convent, al-though they had been good Catholics, they had not worked sys-tematically on the spiritual life or used the various spir.itual exer-cises standard among religious. As a consequence, when they are. fa.ced .with a whole .new field of life, the spiritual life, and read. about it in books and hear about it in talks and retreats, they look. upon it as something different from what their lives have been, as 281' JOSEPH P. FISHER Ret~iew for Religious something superadded to ordinary life, as even opposed to ordinary life, as unable to be mixed with ordinary life. It seems a life apart, a sanctuaried life. It is 'lived in quiet, and solitude; it grows by prayer and penance; its natural habitat is the chapel or oratory; it is a plant easily wilted by exposure to the winds of the world. And so, when they do go forth from the warmth of novitiate fervor into the cool atmosphere of the classroom or hospital, they feel a chill. And to their minds there naturally seems a split between ~he spiritual life as they knew it and life as they are living it. But is not all this true? To a certain extent it is and has to.be. But frequently there is a ne'edless and harmful exaggeration, an over-emphasis on certain truths to the neglect of others. We can admit once and for all that the common insistence on silence and solitude and recollection is necessary especially for a beginner in the spiritual !ife. Before entering, religion he probably lived among many dis-tractions, engaging in sports, attending dances and parties, going to mdvies, and in general occupying himself with many such matters; and his life to a 'large extent was sustained by these things. Ob-viously, if they were continued, he would go on being supported by them and would never come to lean on the truths of the faith, the truths of the spiritual life. It is only when these false supports are removed and the noise of the world has faded away that he will be forced, so to speak, to lean on God and the things of God. He will either have to swim in the waters of the spirit or sink; or, of course, remove himself. With this admitted, let us turn to the question of how the harmful exaggeration can be handled. The main element in the exaggeration is that it sets up a di-vision in the life of man. Instead of life's being a whole, it becomes a thing of diverse and even antagonistic parts, parts which are held" together rather mechanically and awkwardly. On the one hand there is the spiritual life, needing its sl~ecial atmosphere, nourishment, and care. On the other hand there is ordinary, natural life with its entirely different needs and demands. Some hold them together rather forcefully; some give up the fight in favor of ordinary life; some, we hope, work out a satsifactory integration. The main error consists in thinking that a man is spiritual, is engaged in super-natural activity, only at certain restricted places and times--for example, at prayer, in chapel. If he is not in such places or doing such things, he is regarded as being away from the spiritual, super-natural life. He may be, but he need not be. So the ideal would be if the whole of life were spiritual, super- 282 November, 1955 INTEGRATION natural, if the whole of life were of a piece, if a man were~always about his Father's business. Is this possible? Can a man conceiv-ably be in such a posltxon that he regards a11 things, no matter what they are, as spiritual, supernatural? Whether he eats, plays, talks, suffers-~can it all, in a true sense, be the same? It seems 'that it was for the saints. St. Paul certainly lived out his exhortation: "Therefore, whether you eat or drink, or do anything else, do all for the glory of God" (I Cor. 10:31). ' The biographer of Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection, a discalced Carmelite lay brother, states: "Everything °was the same to him-~every place, every employment. The good Brother found God everywhere, as much while he was repairing shoes as while he was praying With the community. He was in no hurry to make his retreats, because he found in his ordinary work the same God to love and adore as in the depth of the desert" (Brother Lawrence, The Practice of the Presence of God, p. 53). And it has been told of Jerome Jaegen, whose process .of beatification has begun, that he combined attention to external things and to God in a wonderful way: "It is quite remarkable that just when he was campaigning for office and acquainting himself with his new duties, he was pass-ing through what he calls the first phase of the 'Mystical Marriage.' In this phase, to find her Groom, the soul need only turn to Him within her 'where the seat of consciousness is,' where He is always present. While he was a Deputy to the Diet his mystical life reached its full development. He attained to that condition in which one can simultaneously pay attention both to external things and to God manifesting His presence within the soul" (REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, II (1943), 359). Such, to a greater or less degree, must have been the outlook of all real saints. Life, theft, can be one, can all be spiritual, supernatural. A man does not have to pass arti-ficiall); from one part of his life to the next; does not have to leave for a time his warm spiritual world and run out, holding his breath, as it were, into the cold world of everyday life, then hasten back before his spiritual life has disappeared. It is true that we have been speaking of the saints, and saints could do what we cannot. Assuredly, but, if there is one thing in which ordinary men can well imitate the saints, it is, in this ideal of an integral life, where all is part of a whole. " . By what means, then, can a religious grow in this integrated way of life? The grace of God, of course, has much to do with it; but, as in most other matters concerning the spiritual life, we must 283 ~JOSEPH P. FISHER Revib~V for . Religiohs do our part. Various means can be suggested which are standard matter in books on the ascetical life. However, we shall endeavor to put them in a way that fits our purpose. The first and most obvious means of making the whole of life spiritual, supernatural, is to have what is called a "good intention." With the proper intention, a man in the state of grace can make all his good or indifferent voluntary acts a source of supernatural merit. Theologians dispute about the precise requisites of this in-tention; but all agree that the more explicit and actual the intention, the better. Fbr our purpose the thing to be insisted on is this:'a man should try to grow in the realization of this really very im-portant truth about the power of intention. He has to see it as an integrating factor in his life, as a unifying principle that assimilates whatever it touches into the supernatural life he leads. In this way a man is aware that all is supernatural, that no matter where he is; what he is doing, he has not left the spiritual world but is busy building it. It is clear that this ability to realize all things as super-natural through the means of a good intention requires a more" penetrating and active faith than is required to accept as spiritual such actions as prayer, visits to the Blessed Sacrament, and the like. The next means that suggests itself is the practice of the presence of God. This subject has been treated at length in several previous articles in the REVIEW 'FOR RELIGIOUS. Here I want to emphasize a certain point of view. For our purpose--a means of integration-- the practice of the presence of God remains a rather ineffective means if viewed in the following manner. (However, .there is a place even for it in the case of those who are learning the practice and know what is the further end they should have in mind.) A person is thought of as going along his ordinary life and then at the sound of a bell or at some stated interval as turning away for a moment from what he is doing and thinking of God. Then back to his ordinary life. A rather crude image may give a clearer idea of this method. It will be obvious how the image applies to our matter. A fish's normal element is water--it is at home in water.' But oc-casionally a fish jumps into the air, an entirely different element from water and one in which the fish is not perfectly at home. The forced leap into the higher and lighter element is for only a ~ery slight bit of time. Then the fish relapses into the medium congenial to it. Certainly such a manner of practicing the presence of God, if it goes no farther, would not help integration. On the.'other hand there is a way of practicing it which would be immensely helpful. 284 November, 1955 INTEGRATION As has been well said, we do not really put ourselves into the presence of God--we are actually there, always there. We cannot get away from God--He is closer and more pursuing than the air we breathe. But, of course, we have to know the facts, realize them, act on them. To this end it is suggested that we read matter on the presence of God and often make a meditation such as the Contem-plation for Obtaining Divine Love. It is only when God becomes, so to speak, the element in which we live our lives--in Him we live and move and bare our b.eing--tbat the presence of God will be an integrating force in our lives. It is important to point out that this practice is not only or even chiefly a matter of the mind; for, obviously, we cannot have God in the focus of our minds con-stantly. However, after much work on our part, He can be, as it were, aIways.on the fringe of our attention--but this must be with-out strain or violent effort. And best of all He can be at the end of all our loves; for in all things we can, if we so wish, love God. God, then, can be the unifying principle in our life, making all our living a whole, and enabling us to pass from prayer to play, from play to work, with the conviction and consequent peace that we are always about our Father's business and our soul's sanctifica-tion. It was no doubt with this ideal in mind that St. Ignatius "came to the following conclusion, stated in a letter he caused to be written to some young students and quoted by Father Lindworsky in The Ps~Icbolog~ of Asceticism: " 'Ou_r father holds it for better, ~hat in all things one should endeavor to find God, rather than that long continuous periods of time should be applied to prayer.' In-stead of devoting themselves to prolonged prayer, the students were exhorted to exercise themselves 'in finding God our Lord in all things, "in conversation, in walking, seeing, tasting, bearing, thinking, and in fact in all kinds of activity, for of a truth the majesty of God is in all things' " (p. 68). When a man has come to such a familiarity with God as St. Ignatius implies in this passage, it is hardly right to speak of the "practice" of the presence of God as if it were one practice more or less in the spiritual life. Really it is a man's spiritual life or at least has the function of a barometer in its regard. "Where thy treasure is there is thy heart also." There can be no doubt about it. Although in treating recollection we shall cover somewhat the same ground we did when treating the question of the presence of God, it seems worthwhile to examine the subject in its relation to integration. A rather common way of looking at recollection is in- 285 ~OSEPH P. FISHER dicated in some such expression, as, "He made an act of recollection." This suggests that the person in question is, for the most part, un-recollected, and then briefly recollects himself. This act of recollec-tion would consist of turning away from the distracting, perhaps absorbing, unspiritual business of the moment and turning to the thought of something pious unrelated to the matter at hand. As was said in connection, with the practice of the presence of God, there is a' place for this kind of thing, but it is not at all the ideal. There would seem to be something strange about the idea that a man i's recollected who recollects himself for brief, flashing moments; and for the rest of the time, most of the time, he is anything but recollected." Would it not be better to regard recollection as some-thing capable of being more pervasive, more continual? Perhaps at least at the beginning of one's endeavor to practice recollection it would be well to change the sense in which the word recollection is commonly used, that is, calling up a spiritual thought of some kind. Would it not get us closer to what we want if we would have it mean the gathering of our powers on what the will of God puts before us.?. My imagifiation, my mind, my will often tend away from what for me is expressly God's will. Holding them to what is God's will for me from the right motive--it is God's will and I wish to fulfill it--would seem to be a fine form of recollection. If I am supposed to pray, I call together my powers and bend them this way; if I am supposed to study, I marshal them on my books; if I am supposed to recreate, I turn them to this end--the motive always being to do God's will, to find God in all things. It is plain how this.again would make for integration. As one grow.s in the power of recollection, one would approach more and more the prac-tice of the presence of God as indicated above. Then God would come to be all in all. It would seem that the form of recollection proposed is espe- ¯ cially import~lnt for and adapted to active religious. If their activity is divorced from their spiritual life, sad, indeed, is their-lot. The harder they work, the farther they withdraw from spiritual progress. But they ought to sanctify themselves by their apostolate. This quires real effort, a real desire for spiritual progress. An integrated life will bring power and peace and spiritual ad-vancement. It is an ideal all religious should work for. It will. not come without effort and the grace of God. Life seems almost too short to mak~ a whole out of the many parts. But here, as in all things, there is a shortcut--the love of God.- 286 Communi .y orkshop ot: t:he .Dulu :h enedict:ines Sister M. Joselyn, O.S.B. i N the fall of 1954, Mother Martina Hqghes, Prioress of the Bene-dictine Sisters of Villa Sancta S~holastic~, Duluth, Minnesota, first projected .the plan ofa workshop for the sisters in which any problem of the community would receive a frank, orderly, and serious discussion under the leadership of an experienced priest. All the sisters were urged to give thought to matters they would like to consider or have ~onsidered. at the workshop; aJad ar.rangemenrs wi~re made to bring a large group--as it happened, about half the community, which numbers more thah four hundred members--to the mother house for a two-d~y institute during the Christmas holi-days. In due time, Father Louis Putz, C.S.C., of the Department of Religion of Notre Dame University, .was engaged as the workshop moderator; and a committee of eight sisters representing different age and occupation groups in the community was appointed to plan the sessions with Father Putz. From a considerable correspondence between Father Putz, Mother Martina, and the committee members prior to the arrival of Father Putz at the mother house, and from a half-day planning session of the committee and the leader after his arrival, evolved the subject matter of the discussions: "the spiritual and temporal good of the commu.nity, with emphasis on the relations between superibr and subjects." It was believed that the over-all subject for discussion should be definite but not too narrowly restricted, should represent some hierarchy of values, yet not be a mere string of non-debatable principles. All the workshop members attended the first general session, which was held in the auditorium. At this time, the ~hairman of the workshop committee sketched the procedure for the remainder of the day's sessions, and Father Putz presented his view of the value and method of.such a workshop, adapting in fact both the technique and the major emphasis of the Catholic Action cell movement :o this group. Father Putz stressed the necessity of rethinking certain practices of religious life in the light of prese.nt day temper but with relation to traditional and tried principles. He also urged that the observe-d.iscuss-act method of the cell movement be applied by the 287 SISTER M. JOSELYN Review ~or Religious sisters in a manner calculated to deepen and intensify the loving union of the community members functioning as a family or ecclesiola within the Mystical Body of Christ. At this time, the committee distributed to all members of the workshop an outline to guide the day's discusssion. The outline (which is appended) was to be regarded as a set of signposts, rather than as "material to be covered." The group was then divided into fourteen small sections by an" ingenious use of colored slips which had been handed out at the door. (Thus the divisions were abso-lutely random.) A meeting room was designated for each small group, most of which numbered about ten to fifteen. Within the groups, a leader and a recorder were informally appointed. The first discussion lasted about forty-five minutes, tending to begin rather timidly but to gain momentum through full participation as time went on. Throughout the session, Father Putz acted as "floating delegate," stopping in at various subgroup meetings. At the end of the morning session, each recorder presented to the entire group the findings of the subgroup to which she belonged. In this manner, conclusions or resolutions or questions were pooled; and it was possible to determine which problems were common to all subgroups as well as to ascertain the different views of a large num-ber of sisters on one general subject. At the conclusion of the first half-day session, certain questions arising from the morning's meet-ings were directed to Father Putz and to Mother Martina, both of whom aimed to focus attention on the general principle (rather than the specific practice) involved. The procedure for the afternoon session of the first day was the same as that for the morning session. At the end. of the first d~iy's discussions, Father Putz and the planning committee worked for several hours preparing permanent recommendations from the recorders' reports, evaluating the pro-cedures, and outlining the second day's program. It was decided that the large outline of the subject for the second day, "the temporal good of the community," instead of being given as a whole to each subgroup, would be divided into fourteen sections, each group re~ ceiving one segment of the topic, as designated on each sister's copy of the outline. (This outline is also appended.) On the second day, sisters engaged in hospital work held (at their own request) special sessions within the larger group, still following, however, the outline given to all. In every other respect, the second day's sessions were conducted" like the first day's. Since tb.e outlines of content are included in this article, it will Nooember, 1955 COMMUNITY WORKSHOP. not be necessary to describe iff detail the development of these topics in the small groups. Mother Martina did state at the closing session that "the discussion has pqinted up four areas which I have under consideration at present: delegation of authority, care of the aged, training of the young, and local and major superior relations." Effort was made by the~ planning committee to obtain an over-all picture of the participants' reaction to this first community work-shop; to this end the committee prepared and distributed at the last session a short questionnaire (appended) to be answered anony-mously by all who wished to do so and left in a designated place. The fact that many sisters had only a-few moments between the close of the workshop and their departure from the mother house may have a relation to the number of questionnaires turned in. Ac-cording to the committee's digest of the returned sheets, the seventy-nine respondents stated unanimously that they liked the workshop. Seventy said they would like another workshop (nine others did not answer- the question). More than thirty sisters suggested that they liked the workshop because it was an opportunity for each " sister to present her opinions and to hear the thinking of others on common problems, resulting in an intensified community spirit and a unity of effort for the common good. Others thought that "the earnest and high ideals so generally manifested among all the sisters gave a boost to one's courage and spiritual striving." Thus, the workshop "gave a real stimulus to live the ideal life of a religious, and it served as a fine personal examination. It stressed the idea that each individual sister, as a member of the Mystical Body, must help to make our Benedictine family a happy, ideal one." Others answer-ing the questionnaire noted that they liked the facts that "topics and discussion were handled objectively" and that "respect for the personality of each individual sister was stressed." Thirty-four sisters thought the qualifications of a superior had been adequately dis-cussed; forty-four= thought the relations between superior and sub-jects had been adequately discussed. In the appropriate sect!0n of .the questionnaire, many valuable, constructive suggesti~ons for improving future workshops were in-dicated by the participants. Adverse criticism~ of the workshop gen-d~ ally i~ciffd~d t~orelated t~oint.si in'light 6f th.e tjm'.e, available, too many topics were listed for. d!~.c~ssion,: .a.n.~do,. c.onsequently, some of the discussions were {6b general. A "desire whs manifested to con-tinue discussion of these subjects at a future date.~ It was also.sug-gested :.that,, the,, recommendations.,-of., the. ,-w. orksl-;£i~,] b~ ". ~:.m~riz4d 289 SISTER M. JOSELYN Reuiew for Religious and distributed to each sister and that'in the.coming year each mem-ber of the community take.note of "topics for future workshop dis, cussions. Among suggestions for future workshop subjects, the majority of sisters included the discussion of "the greater spiritual growth of our community through an interpretation of the Holy Rule and how to apply it to our daily life in modern times," "how we can better fulfill our end in religious life," and "how to balance the active and contemplative aspects of .our life." THE SPIRITUAL COMMON GOOD HOW TO PUT THE SPIRIT OF CHARITY INTO OUR RELIGIOUS FORMATION A, Prayer in general I, How to make the necessary ada.ptations to our community exercises a) Normal times b) Vacation time c) In sickness 2. .How to teach goqd prayer and help 'others to pray well. a) Piling up non-essential devotions which interfere with the true spirit of prayer 3. Penitential obligations at times of ember days and fast days a) How to keep in the spirit of the Church b) Charity iri fulfilling our obligation c) Humility to ask for dispensation0if we n~ed it 4. Obligation of silence and recollection in view of charity a) Maintaining silence outside of recreation time b) Charity toward those who must talk during silence time to relieve tension B. Spiritual formation in terms of.spiritual reading 1. H6w to translate the Gospels into life and action 2. How to make our life liturgical 3. \Vhat kind of spiritual reading makes the'liturgy richer and unifies our life as a community and as an, individual II. SACRAMENTS ¯ A. Eucharist 1. How do we prepare as a community to celebrate thoughtfully the Sacrifice? B. Penance 1. How to make an intelligent use of the sacrament of penance OUR RELA;FIONSHIP TO THE COMMUNITY A. How to promote in the community the unity of charity 1. Attitude toward one another 2. Toward superiors 3. Particularly to speak up where, it is necessary and calied for in Chapter and outside of Chapter TEMPORAL COMMON GOOD Groups 1, 2, 3, 4 I. THE SUPERIOR A. Do we look at the office of~superior as an honor and not a service? 29O November, 1955 COMMUNITY WORKSHOP Bo Is the superior submissive to her higher superior, or is she jealous of her own responsibility ? Is she choosey in observance o~ canon law? Distribution.of house duties, assignments, etc, 1. Prudence and fairness in distribution of house duties 2. Partiality or favoritism--allowing cliques to develop 3. Keeping peace by letting sisters do as they please 4. Playing up to flattery 5. Regarding sisters only as subjects who must obey 6. Suspicious of actions of sisters, judging interior sentiments 7. Overloading the willing Groups 5, 6, 7, 8 ' E. Does the "superior take the trouble to know all abou~ "each sister, her temperament, aptitudes, interests, in order to help her? 1. Does she try to develop the personalities of the sisters? 2. Does she have confidence in the sisters? 3. Does she lack discretion with the sisters? 4. Does she have objective rather than subjective attitude? F. Does the superior make herself inaccessible to the sisters? G. Is the superior w!lling to rethink the'function of the community? H. Are'subjects prepared technically and spiritually for their responsibilities? 1. Do you think obedience will cover inc'ompetence? 2. Do you act as though the office of superior gave universal competence? 3. Are young religious allowed to come to responsibilities for which they may be capable? 1. Spending" money for luxuries or extras and not buying the essentials for school or mission !. Confusing the spirit of economy with spirit o~f poverty 2. Being overconcerned about food, clothing, rooms Groups 9, 10, 11 II. CHOICE OF SUBJECTS A. ~ccepting postulants without sufficient health, intelligence, or social ap-titudes B. Accepting religious into profession who are not fitted for community life C. Minimizing obligations of religious life for sake of attracting vocations 1. Spirit of sacrifice, motive for entering 2. Appeal to generosity 3. Indiscretion in fostering vocations. Groups 12, 13, 14 III. IV. RELATIONSHIP WITH THE CLERGY A. B. C. Do Relationship between principal and pastor Relationship between subjects and priests ¯ Willingness to advise clergy of indiscreet giving of gifts as tokens of ap-preciation Pastors and subjects channel activities through superior or principal Money collecting in Catholic schools 1. Red Cross, Red Feather, Sales, contributions, etc., etc., etc. 2. Sisters going into business for themselves RELATIONS WITH EXTERNS A. Civil law 1. Expecting privileges because we are religious 291 SISTER M. ,JOSELYN 2. Untruthfulness---cheating in filling out blanks, etc. 3. Apathy toward voting or in political affairs Parishioners 1. Making our friends on basis of prestige and money 2. Asking them for favors--rides, etc. 3. Hanging on to them after you are removed from the mission a) Writing to them b) Visiting them, etc. Are you a Superior__ or Subject~ EVALUATION FORM 1. Did you like the workshop? Yes. No. Why? 2. Do you think the qualities of a superior were adequately discussed? List qualities unmentioned. 3. Was relationship between superior and subject adequately discussed? 4. Give suggestions how you think ideas gained from the workshop can be put into practice in the community. I. 2. 3. 5. List any topics on superior-subject relationship of interest to you which were not discussed at this workshop. 6. Would you like future workshops? If so, suggest topics. 7. How could future workshops be improved? 8. Would you be interested in starting a study group on your mission? SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENTS t:ather Gerald Kelly, S.J., editor-in-ch~e~ of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS suf-fered a severe heart attack on October 4. He is slowly recovering from it in St. Joseph's Hospital, Kansas City, Mo. Prayers for his successful recovery will be welcomed. In September, 1931~ a hurricane and the subsequent tidal wave destroyed St. John's College, Belize, British Honduras, and took the lives of eleven Jesuits and twenty-two.of the students. Considerable other damage was done in this mission of Missouri Province Jesuits. In October, 1955, the hurricane Janet brought fur-ther disaster to the mission. Kindly remember the Belize mission in your prayers. The Dominican Rural Missionaries, whose work in Louisiana was described in our July, 1954~, number, page 217, were victims of another kind of tragedy. On January 16, 1955, the entire' community of their convent at Grosse Tete, Louisiana (three sisters and an aspirant), were killed when their statio._n wag'on was struck by a freight train. The three sisters were killed instantly; the aspirant sur-vived one day. This congregation is interested not only in prayers a'nd in more vocations to their own institute but also in finding young women who would be inte'rested in" helping t~em as ~ay al~ostles. " If ~U hav~ "pertinent information' for them or wish further information ~igm th~'m~" ~vrite tS: Si~'ter Marie Elisabeth, O.P., Our L~dy of Father Titus Cranny S.A has prepar~ed a small volume entitled Father Paul, Apostle o~ !.Tn~t~l. Th,s paper-bound volume" would make good background read-ing for the Chair of Unity Octave, 2anuary 18-25. Graymooe Pre~, Peekskill, Renoval:ion and dapt:at:ion Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. THoEf imtphoer traenlicgeio oufs tlhifee mmoevr~eimtse anntd o rfe rqeuniroevsa rteiopnea atendd pardeasepntatatitoionn. The purpose of the present article is to give a synthesis.of the movement, to clarify its concepts, and to emphasize its principles, spirit, and more practical headings. The originality of the article, if any exists, will thus be in its arrangement, not in content. The article is directed more particularly, but not exclusively, to lay in-stitutes of brothers, sisters, and nuns. I. RENOVATION The concepts of renovation and adaptation, as usually expressed by authors, partially coincide. If we separate them, renovation is to be conceived as the intensification of the entire ~eligious life of every individual religious and of every institute. This implies a greater personal conviction, esteem, and practice of the life of re-ligious sanctity, a more universally active zeal, a deeper sense of re-sponsibility, and a greater consciousness of the necessity of progress in the works.of the institute. In a word, renovation is a universal renewal of fervor; the movement under this aspect is primarily inspirational to a more perfect realization of the ideals of the re-ligious life. Renovation is more important than adaptation. It is idle to expect that a mere change of laws and observances will make an institute holier or more effective in its apostolate. Renovation is a prerequisite to adaptation. It has been well said that only the fervent can adapt. Proper adaptation demands clear spiritual visiqn and the humility to admit that something may be better than what we have been doing in the past. A conspicuously universal renova-tion is also difficult of attainment. An anonymous Camaldulese monk may be guilty of the exaggeration of pessimism, but he is not completely lacking in realism when he writes: "From experience we know that the exhortations of superiors, circular letters, conferences, constant vigilance, rewards, and corrections are very infrequently effective. Older religious have habits that are too deeply rooted; with difficulty they return to the path of full observance, even when convinced of their mistakes. The young more readily follow the 293 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious careless, the mediocre, who ordinarily are in t~e majority, while the fervent are everywhere pretty much a small minority.''1 II. ADAPTATION Adaptation is change. A law, regulation, custom, practice, ob-servance, or manner of thinking and acting should be changed when it has become harmful or useless for the end for which it was in-tended, when a certainly better means can now be found for~that end, or when another means is demanded by the sound progress, necessities, or problems of our age. The/fundamental necessity for adaptation is that the world in which we live and for which we work has changed greatly in practically every aspect. Hospitals of today are vastly diffe~erit from those of a hundred years ago. We have adapted in the care of the sick and in many other things; the goal now is to extend the principle of intelligent and prudent adap-tation to every aspect of the religious life. Adaptation is not reform, mitigation, or relakation. What it excludes is the principle of un-swerving material conformity to everything done in the past. It presumes that the old is good but does not refuse to abandon the old for something certainly better; it does not identify the modern with the good nor does it hold that the modern or new is necessarily evil it believes and emphasizes that there are immutables in religion but also that not all thing~ are immutable. Adaptation is life and recognizes that the la'w of life is gradual change and a mixture of the old and the new. The two evident errors in this matter have been expressed bY Plus XII as the childish and immoderate hankering after novelty and the solidifying of the Church in ~a sterile immutability.2 The errors are thus excessive conservatism and the desire of change for itself, a blind attachment to tradition and the scorn of tradition, no ~hange whatever and intemperate and imprudent .change. Authors describe the former as a scelerosis, a lack of life, incipient death, the latter as worldliness and naturalism. Adaptation is thee responsibility primarily of higher superiors. It should be accomplished according to the general norms g, iven by the Holy See, but it is not to be ex-pected that the Holy See will take upon itself and impose the hdapr tations necessary in each institute. Adaptation should be carried out prudently and in a spirit of calmness, peace, and unity. How- 1. Acta et Documenta Congressus Generalis de Statibus Perfectionis (Editiones. Paulinae), III, 603. 2. Ibid., I, 33. 294 Nooember, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION ever, the good of the institute is to be the supreme norm of action; and it is a fact of experience ,that some religious will oppose the most evidently necessary changes. III. WHAT CANNOT BE CHANGED The following are of their very nature excluded from adap-tation : 292 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. The general purpose of the religious life of complete evan-gelical perfection. The three religious vows and their essential objects, purpose, and spirit. The mortification and prayer necessary for the attainment of the purpose of the religious life. Anything commanded or forbidden by the law of the Church. The distinctive and solid spirit of the particular institute. Anything certainly essential or fundamental in, the pa.rticular institute. IV. MATTERS TO BE EXAMINED FOR POSSIBLE ADAPTATION It would be an evident exaggeration to say that eve.rything listed below should be matter for change in every instifute, All the mat-ters listed have been mentioned and more frequently emphasized in the discussions on adaptation. The list is a~range~ in the order of the concrete importance of the topics in the judgment of the writer. 1. Greater care in the admission of candidates arid more de-cisiveness in the early elimination of the unsuitable before perpetual profession. 2. The establishment ofa juniorate for sisters immediately after the noviceship, in which the young professed will com-plete their undergraduate education or training and continue their spiritual formation. 3. A sounder doctrinal formation in the postulancy, novice-ship, and juniorate. 4. The elimination of the prominent externalism and for-malism. 5. Proper concept of the founder or foundress. 6. Greater attention to the purpose and spirit of the vows rather than to their mere obligation. 7. A schedule of prayer that gives proper~ emphasis to mental 29,5 JOSEPH 1=. GALLON Reoieto for Religious prayer, is sufficiently liturgical, and not excessive in the quantity or in the importance placed on vocal pra~yer. 8. The direction of the works of the institute to the n~eds of our time, which in most institutes will consist of an emphasis on the works for the poor and the working class. 9. A horarium that is less contributory to tension and pro-vision for proper daily, weekly, and annual rest. 10. Greater care in the selection of and a previous training, if possible, of local superiors and novice masters and mistresses. 11. A government that is more spiritual, individual, paternal or maternal, and not lacking in the necessary firmness. 12. Establishment of a tertianship and, perhaps, 'of a period of recollection before perpetual profession. 13. Greater emphasis on maturity, a sense of responsibility, dependability, efficiency, and proper initiative in the train-ing of religious. 14. Simplification of the religious habit. 15. Higher intellectual standards in continued study and prepar-ation for classes. 16. Elimination of the continuous rotation of the same superiors. 17. Greater mutual knowledge, cooperation, and attention to the interests of other religious institutes. 18. Possible extension of the period of temporary vows to five years. 19. Pertinent canonical matters.' V. EXPLANATION OF MATTERS OF ADAPTATION 1. Greater care in admission. The principle of St. Plus X that there is no greater cause of the weakening of religious discipline than the careless admission of candidates ~s of universal validity.3 The fundamental defect here is the failure to grasp and act on the evident principle that anyone lacking the suitability for the life and works of the institute does not possess a vocation for that institute. The grace of the omniscient God is not moving anyone to a state of life for .which he is not fitted. Therefore, the need for religious is never a justification for the admission or retention in the pro-bationary states of those who do not possess the capabilities for the particular institute. The modern innovation proposed under this heading is that 3. Epistle, Inter Plura, May 31, 1905, to the.Abbot General of the Order of Re-formed Cistercians, Ench&idion de Statibus Perfectionis, n. 248. ~ 296 November, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION of psychological testing. A principle of adaptation is that we should be wil.ling to accept all that is, good in modern progress. Such test-ing, when practicable, can be an aid; but it will never exclude the necessity of the considered and experien,,~ed judgment and proper ¯ firmness of a competent higher superior. To me it is also a certain fact of experience that the great majorityI at least of the outstand-ingly difficult cases were sufficiently evident to such a judgment either before admission or at the latest during the probationary states of the religious life. 2, 18. Establishment ot: a juniorate for sisters and extension ot: temporarg profession. The completion of the undergraduate studies of sisters immediately after the noviceship is necessary for their own spiritual, intellectual, psychological, and physical well-being, and for the maintaining and elevating of the standards of Catholic edu-. cation. Plus XII manifested to superiors his keen desire that the schools taught by sisters be the very best and also stated that the training of all sisters should put them on an equal footing with their secular colleagues: The Sacred Congregation of Religious af-firmed that it is rash to expect a subject immediately after the almost exclusively religious formation of the postulancy and noviceship to be a teacher and much less a serious educator, even for very young children. This demands suitable preparation, and the S. Congre-gation insisted that such training was to be given despite the im-mediate need for teachers. It is evident that the assignment of postu-lants and second-year novices as regular teachers is an even greater abuse. ~ This heading reveals another distinctive principle of the move-ment of adaptation, which is that of the elevation of the spiritual, intellectual, cultural, and professional equipment of religious. It is also a very apt illustration of an even more fundamental norm of the movement--we cannot reasonably continue to do everything in a particular way just because it was done that way in the past. Educational and professional demands are much greater today; they must be met with much better preparation. The entire matter of the juniorate in this country is 'being ad-mirably promoted by the Slster-Formatlon Conferences of the Na-tional Catholic Educational A~sociation. This also exemplifies a principle of the movement. Adaptation is vital action; it is life, action, and progress from within. The attention given to the intellectual and professional train-ing should n'ot obscure the even greater necessity of continued spit- 297 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review ~or Religious itual formation in the juniorate. An equally urgent need of young professed is that of-competent and prudent guidance in the difficult adjustment of the first'years in" the acti~ce life. This will demand the continuation of the office of a mistress of junior professed for at least two years after the juniorate. The juniorate will consume all or most of the u~ual three-year period of temporary vows, and thus the question :can arise whether this period gives sufficient testing in the active life before perpetual profession. The ready solution is an extension of temporary pro-fession to five years. In such a system the Code of Canon Law per-mits a prolongation of only one year. This is a change in the con-stitutions and should be decided upon only after serious reflection. It demands the approval of'the Holy See in~ pontifical institutes and that of all ,the ordinaries in whose dioceses the congregation has houses in the case of diocesan.institutes; 3. Sounder doctrinal spiritual formation. Sufficiently common defects .in American novitiates are the application of' the postulants and second-year novices to the external works of the institute, the excessive employment of both classes in domestic duties, the small amount of instruction given in the religious life, an overemphasis of secular studies; and the prominent tendency to confine the religious life to mere externals and to external regularity and conformity. The modern generation is decidedly factual and can readily fall into disillusionment and even cynicism from such a postulancy or novice-ship. The master or mistress of novices should give an instruction of at least forty-five minutes on all days except holidays. These in-structions are not to be confined to the vows but should cover the entire field of ascetical theology during the postulancy and novice-ship. The concepts and principles are to be presented solidly, not sentimentally nor with, mere devotionalism, and not in mere prac-tical illustrations that are not reduced to principles. Solid presen-tation demands that the theological foundation of principles be given. The movement of renovation and adaptation contributes several valuable principles in this field. The first is that no spirituality is lasting unless based on personal conviction. The second is that we can no longer be content with a mere collective presentation; the emphasis must be on individual guidance. The third is that there must be an active participation by the postulants and novices in this work of their own instruction. They should be permitted freely to ask questions and to propose difficulties; they should be. aptly November,, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION questioned on their grasp of spiritual principles; there should be discussions, brief papers on :some spiritual topic, on the ideas ac-quired from the reading of a spiritual book, or on some spiritual prob-lems or difficulties. Other techniques and methods will be found by a real teacher. The purpose, however, must always be to lead the will to action, notthe mere acquisition of knowledge.;~and there must never be any doubt that the master or mistress is in charge. We must abandon the unsound pedagogy that an idea once presented to a group is understood by all. This is true of no teaching and much less of spiritual teaching. ~Fhere must be an adequate spiritual li-brary, sufficient time °for spiritual reading, and proper guidance in this reading. One author l~as aptly expressed a .very practical truth by stating that the poverty of a spiritual life is very frequently the poverty of proper and constant spiritual reading. Proper instruction, individual and competent guidance, and patience will usually succeed in directing the tendencies and defects of the modern generation into good qualities. For example, their independence of judgmen.t and ac.tion, .demand for reasonableness and sincerity, and 'desire for personal initiative can be developed into a profound and lasting.conviction of spiritual values. Their realism, sincerity, and generosity will be ultimately docile to a spiritual for-mation that is interior, solid, individual, that makes legitimate al-lowance for different personalities, is not bent on crushing them, and is not dominated by a multitude of petty details.and formalities. 4. Externalism and [ormalism. This is the most.frequ~,ent topic in the discussions on adaptation. The problem is found principally in the ,customs, observances, and practices, written and unwritten, of 'religious institutes. A certain amount of ,regulation is obviously necessary for order and efficiency. Apart from this, external ob-servances have no place in the religious life merely for themselves; their purpose must be the cultivation of the interior virtues of the ~eligious life, for example, love of God, humility, chastity, mortifi-cation, obedience, prayer. Consequently they must be of such a. nature as to constitute apt means for the fostering of such virtues. The first principle of adaptation here is that the purpose 6f observances ,is not being realized. This defect is very universal, especially, but not solely, in institutes of women. Religious forma-tion has been too narrowly confined to externals, external disci-pline, external regularity and conformity; there has been too little; training in the interior life and interior ~'irtue. The moral value of an external act consists in the fact that it proceeds from an interior 299 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Reliqiotts act of virtue of the will or that it leads to or intensifies such an act. Sincere interior virtue will produce the proper external act; the religious who is sincerely poor in heart will be poor in act. It is very possible to de-emphasize and even to ignore in fact this pur-pose both in formation and in our own personal lives. Instead of saintly religious, we may be tending to train spiritual robots. Modesty of the eyes is not a virtue because I never see the leaves of the trees unfold in spring or do not know the color of the ceiling; it is a virtue only if it proceeds from the consecration of my heart to God, protects that consecration, and lead~ me ultimately to greater love of God. The profit of silence is not precisely in the low score of the examen book but in the increase of my spirit of prayer. A similar defective tendency is the attitude towards "our h01y rule." The rule is really not holy in itself; its holiness is verified only insofar as, it contains and leads to a love of and assimilation to Jesus Christ. It is basically misguided formation to propose the rule independently of this assimilation and especially to extol it above such assimilation or the laws of God. The overemphasis on externals has led to their excessive multi-plication. They extend to all and to the.smallest details of life. We .may be wearing a tight harness of sanctity that will not allow us to move or to breathe; we are praising the observant religious and have forgotten the saintly religious. Excessive observances are a dry diet of spiritual shredded wheat. The soul lacks a richness of spirituality, is superficial, and dulled to the great truths and person of Jesus Christ. It is not a satisfying diet, and usually a few years suffice for the loss of spiritual appetite and the symptoms of a lowered and even critical spiritual vigor and tone. Another defect of very many observances is that they either were never apt or have lost their aptness for their purpose. Why should sisters be forbidden to eat in a dining car but be allowed to request a waiter to set up a table in another railroad car that will make them even "more conspicuous? I think it is reasonable to avoid the expensive dining car whenever possible, but I can see no reason for a prohibition of eating there when~ necessary. Why should sisters be forbidden to eat even with sisters of other communities? Why is it a violation of cioister to enter the home of your family but meritorious to sit in a car outside their home. and talk to them? Are such artificialities in keeping with the saneness of sanctity, with the majesty of the doctrines and person of Jesus Christ? Reverefice and politeness are to be fostered; but are all the profound bows of 300 November, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION the head and Of the body, all the kissing of hands, and all the kneel-ing to superiors apt means today of expressing this reverence and politeness? Why in a life whose spirit is that of humility and of a family must there be precedence in the refectory and community room? These are only a very few examples of a very Widespread defect. Observances should be the external expression of the spirit of the institute and of the founder. In the thought of one author they should possess the perpetuity~ of real life transmitted from gen-eration to generation but not the perpetuity of fossilization. Obedience and submission are evidently due to prescribed ob-servances, but superiors should examine whether their number is excessive and their nature now apt for their purpose. There is also too much legalism, the material satisfaction of the mere wording of the law, in institutes of both men and women; and too little at-tention to the purpose of the law, its more perfect fulfillment, and to motivation. Legalism is clearly destructive of an interior life. Religious discipline is also frequently enforced with an unreasonable rigidity. Religious know that it is possible to be excused or dis-pensed from the laws of the Church, for example, from Sunday Mass or from fasting; but observances are often proposed as if they never admitted an excuse or dispensation. I am not encouraging laxity but discouraging rigorism; there must be a proportionate reason for an excuse or dispensation. Observances are the field of conduct that demands the most searching examination by superiors. It is the field of which Pius XII said: "In this crisis of vocations make sure that nothing in your customs, your manner of life, or the ascetical practices of your religious families is an obstacle or a cause of loss of vocations. We mean certain usages which, if ever suited to another cultural context, are out of place today, so that even a really good and courageous girl would find them only an obstacle to her voca-tion." 4 5. Concept of a founder. The concept of a founder or foundress has been too narrowly that of a lawgiver and ofimmutable laws. The Pope has stated .that founders frequently .conceived their in-stitutes to meet the needs of their own age and thus erected their institutes on the principle of adaptation. He concludes from this that lo.yalty to the founder requires constant observance of the prin- 'ciple of adaptation and the acceptance of all that is good in the be-liefs, convictions, and conduct of our contemporaries. This dem~inds 4. Acta Apostolicae Sedis~ XXXXIV ('1952), 825. ¯ '30.1 JOSEPH, F. GALLEN 'Reoiew for Religious that we distinguish the essential and immutable from the'_accidental and changeable in the words and works of the founder and that we do not follow as a rigid norm what the founder, did but rather the pliable norm of what he would do in any aspect of life if he were faced by our own age. Furthermore, the founder is not a mere giver of 'laws but also and primarily ~a giver of life to his "institute. ~ That life is his distinctive spirit, which consists in his approach to the spiritual life, his characteristic virtues, the principles he emphasized, his manner of approaching life and its problems, and the general types of works of zeal that he favored. Our fidelity to our founder is to be yerified in the repr, oduction of his life and spirit, not in the mere unwillingness to change even the slightest detail of his least law. 6, 13. The uows and training in maturity. The movement of renovation and adaptation finds in the vows one of the conspicuous fields of juridicism, that is, the overemphasis on laws to the detri-ment of the theological elements of the purposfi and spirit of the vows and their efficacy for the acquiring of many interior virtues. To secure permission is important; but it is more important to ad-vance by poverty in the love of God, to be detached from the love of material things for themselyes, to make progress in trust in divine providence, patiegce, meekness, humility, and the spirit, of mortifi-cation. The vow of chastity has not attained its purpose,unless it is increasing the .love of God, 'love of other human beings in and for God, devotion to prayer and the interior life with God, affection and intimacy with God in prayer, and .making life less materialistic. Obedience is a sterile vow unless it is intensifying especially love of God, faith, and humility,, and also docility to grace,~zeal, the spir~'t of self-denial, and generosity. In a word, obedience is effective to the degree that a theocentric has'supplanted an egoistic life. The obligation of the vow and of the laws of the Church on poverty is confined to external actions. It is, however, a "field of conduct that demands the constant vigilance of superiors. The coun-sels of Plus XII in this matter are that the life of religious ~hould b~ truly simple a~id poor, their houses should be simple, and their actions in poverty should not contradict nor ddstroy their profession of it in word. The buildings of religious, even those used for ex-ternal works, should be efficient, sanitary, not unattractive, but simple, and devoid of even the appeararice of luxury, "indulgence, extravagance, or needless expense. It is surprising holy. often this point has been emphasized by authors on adaptation. One of them has called the propensity~ to expensive buildings and .renovations ~302 Nooember, 1955. RENOVATION AND ADKPTATION "stone disease"; it could also be termed "Gothic poverty." Such bhild=. ings create the impression of hav!ng been erected to" attract the rith. and thus tend to the tragic tonsequence of alienating the pobr:~ Authors follow the Pope in' stressing the need of a truly simple and poor life in everything--buildings, lodging, furniture, fbod,' medical care, all personal accessories, amusements, vacations, journeys, and means of travel. Modern material developments are to be used insofar as they increase efficiency, preserve or promote health; bu( they are to be rejected" when their purpose is on.ly comfort, indul-gence, luxury. / Pius XII has reaffirmed the validity and supreme value of the traditional concept of the vow of obedience. He has also implied or stated that the modern apostolate requires one. who can face boldly the gigantic tasks of our age, one able to meet its d~ngers, overcome its spiritual destitution, competent to .think for himself, and formed to maturity of judgment. These are not the tasks nor th~ endow-" ments of a child. The modern evils of communism, atheism, and secularism are not trembling at the child_ishness of their foes. The purpose of obedience is to develop the good in man, to eliminate the" evil. The ability to think for oneself, to get a new idea at least oc.casionally, maturity of judgment and action, the power of de-cision, legitimate self-initiative, efficiency, dependability, and a sense of responsibility are not evils and are necessary for success in any state of life. Obedience should not be presented nor authority exer, cised in a way that destroys or fails to develop these necessary capa-bilities. Obedience is too often presented as the mere order of a superior and the submission of a subject. Ancient comparisons that illustrate the perfection of external obedience unfortunately have the defect of connoting a passive reaction on the part of the subject. Obedience is p.rimarily an instrument of personal sanctification, and no one except the infant is sanctified in passivity. Insistence on the purpose and spirit of the vow will bring out that this vow demands a truly tremendous vital reaction of love of God, faith, and humility. The subject gains the merit of the vow by having it as his motive, and such a motive is to be presumed in the actions of a religious. The superior should govern sufficiently but not excessively; a~ad it is certainly not necessary, profitable, prudent, or formative for him to step into or order every detail of an action or work. If you want the child to walk, you have to allow him to fall a few times. This mellow proverb is true in work, study, and also in the spiritual .life. The religious life is not a democracy; religious are subjects, n6t 303 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review [or Religious associates, of the superio~ They are also human beings. They should be allowed and encouraged to get new ideas. The superior is the competent authority to accept or reject and also to,encourage such ideas; but he should not confine all ideas in the house, province, or institute to his own. A religious or novice may find a better way of doing an-assigned duty or work, or he may do it in his own in-dividual way.' In most cases this can be permitted. Everything does not have to be done always in the same way. The counsels of per-fection are not the freezing point of human endeavor and ingenuity. A religious or novice should be given the necessary instructions for an assigned duty or work; if he does it childishly, inefficiently, care-lessly, he should be firmly checked. The religious life must not be the cradle of ineptitude. The qualities described above should be formed continuously in all aspects of the religious life, spiritual, in-tellectual, and the life of work. The childishness of many religious is an actual problem and one that cannot be ignored. The Pope has praised the great things that obedience accomplishes by uniting the forces of the members of the institute. The efficacy of this union is in fact greatly diminished by the childishness that makes a member unable to handle his assignment or his proportionate amount of the effort. Instead of united effort, the union of. obedience is too often that of the few carrying the many. 7. Pra~ter. In a previous article in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, I tried to explain the principles of adaptation with regard to prayer~ A few added comments will s~uffice here. The spirit of prayer and habitual self-denial will always be the distinguishing marks of the sincere religious. Both have been emphasized by Plus XII. He has insisted on the necessity of an interior life, that it should main-tain a constant balance with external activity, and has reprobated as the heresy of activity the intense apostolate that is not constantly nourished by the use of the ordinary means of personal sanctification. These emphatic words of His Holiness evidently imply an equally emphatic obligation of superiors to insist on the use of these means by their subjects. The errors of men and women in this matter are not the same. The woman tends to the misdirected prayer of de-votionalism rather than to the prayer of sanctity; the danger of man is of infidelity to his religious exercises. The latter is certainly fre-quently caused by valuing work over prayer and even more fre-quently by the simple omission and neglect of prayer. Excessive activity is not the only cause of a feeble interior life. It must be 5. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XIII (1954), 125-37. 304 November, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION remembered that the idle apostle is rarely the mystic of the monas-tery. The diagnosis of external idleness is most infrequently that of a local infection. It is an anemia of the person that extends to all activity. W'hy are so. many. superiors disturbed at violations of religious discipline and yet completely unconscious of so basic an evil as idleness? A fundamental principle of adaptation is the hier-archy of values. ~rriters on adaptation are quite insistent on the value of litur-gical prayer. There should be sufficient liturgical prayer, but the, choral recitation of the Office should not be urged to a degree or quantity thfit is !mpracticable in so many congregations of lay re-ligious. I also cannot see the all-sufficiency of the Office, for example, that it can supply for regular mental prayer in a life dedicated to sanctity. One or two authors bemoan the ignorance of Latin in lay religious, who thus do not understand so much of their prayer. The remedy suggested is a sufficient study of Latin. Is there any real hope that this remedy will be generally effective? It is not contrary to th~ present spirit of the Church to be more attentive to the use of the vernacular as the language of prayer. In some institutes the prayers are in a foreign language, usually that of the country of origin of the institute. When this is no longer a spoken language of the majority of those entering the part of the institute in question, isn't it time at least to begin to think of changing the language to that of the country? Plus XII stated that the missionary possesses no office of transplanting a specifically European culture to mission lands.6 Religious institutes likewise should not impose the nation-ality of the country of their origin on members of other nations. 8. Works of the institute. A study of the documents of Piu~ XII leads to the opinion that his basic motive in promoting the movement of renovation and adaptation is the apostolate. An under-lying thought can be sensed in his words that communism, atheism, secularism, paganism, and materialism would not be strong and belligerent today if religious had measured up to their exalted voca-tion in both prayer and an enlightened and laborious zeal. He urges a laborious zeal, since he has not only reprobated the heresy of ac-tivity but has also warned of the dangers of an idle and indolent life. He has emphasized the necessity of an enlightened zeal. This de-mands the i~se of all appropriate new forms and methods of the apostolate and of all modern developments for the spread of the 6.Acta Apostolicae 8edis, XXXVI (1944), .21'0, . 305 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Re~,iew "f~o~ Religiods Kingdom 6f Jesus¯ Christ. An enlightened zeal also directs its ef-forts primarily t6' combat' the great evils of the age and to prevent their'diffusion. Various documefits of Pius XII lead to the belief that he considers the dechristiafiization of the poor and the working class as the great danger of our age. Other classes' are not to be ignored, but the distinctive impression of the apostolate of r~lig_ious institutes in general should be that it is directed to the poor and the working class. This is also the spirit of the life and teaching of Jesus Christ. Most religious institutes were born of a love of the poor and unfortunate. The preservation Of such a solid spirit is one of the immutables of the religious life. A work such as the parish school is not only a glorious and niost necessary apostolate but also a pr6: tection of this spirit. Several authors have commented on the ten-dency'of some institutes founded for thd poor gradually to orientate themselves towards the higher classes and the rich. They draw-away from the poor, and the poor draw away from them. In speaking of the apostolate for the poor and the working class, the present Pope has instructed priests to become brothers to brothers and to mix their apostolic Sweat with that of the.working men.7 Religious also must exercise this apostolate in a spirit of understanding, com-panionship, closeness to the poor and their problems, and not in that of a generous and kind but aloof and superior caste of society. Religious poverty has the apostolic purpose "of enlightening and impelling mankind to.the proper evaluation and use of material things. We have to live, but this purpose demands that we exclude com-mercialism and the motive of gain from our apostolate. It is cer, tainly not against poverty to keep accurate accounts, but the spirit of 'poverty and its apostolic purpose require also that we examine ourselves frequently as individuals .on how much we are doing for nothing and as institutes on how much we are giving away. All institutes, especially of sisters, should refuse new works when their overworked members can scarcely carry out their present en-gagements. In taking new works, congregations of sisters should be more attentive to the missions. Pius XII stated: "The apostolate of the Church today is scarcely conceivable without the cooperation of religious women in works of c.harity, in the school, in assistance to the pries.tly ministry, in the missions,s " 9. Horariurn. The horarium should be in conformity .with the customs and de,m.ands of the age, the place, and the work. The 7. Ibid., XXXXI (1949), 65. ~8. Ibid., XXXXI (1949), 41). November, 1955 RENOVATION AND-ADAPTATION horarium is frequently a most evident proof of the excessive and tenacious attachment to tradition. It is not reasonable to insist that the meals be at the same hours as during the life of a founder who died several centuries ago or.to leave the horarium unchanged for more than a centu~ry. A religious house is not a fortified island of anachronism in a changing world. The test of a horarium is not its antiquity but its ~uitability and efficiency. Admittedly the life of religious should be one of laborious zeal, but the work can be excessive and can hinder or even exclude ade-quate prayer. One author has pointed out that the amount of work of some religious clearly excludes the nature of the mixed ,life, the proportionate union of the contemplative with the active life. S~- periors are to do everything possible to make a life of. praye~ ade-tqhuea toenllyy poobssstiabcllee ftoor parlal ytehre:i rit s iusb ajuegctms.e Tntheed tbeyn stihoen. toefn wsioonrk o ifs t h.neot horarium. There is a minimum of calm, quiet, and peace necessary for a prayerful life. The habitually excited religious cannot be a .prayerful religious. The daily life of too many lay religious is a scurrying, headlong, excited, and feverish rush from duty to duty. There are difficulties in adjusting, the horarium, but some adjust-ment is possible. It must be less minute, 'less oppressive, less insistent on e.verytbing in common; there must be more breaks, more free time, more attention to rest, and more easing of the tension. Re; ligious should be give.n adequate time for their meals, and 'the time immediately before and after meals should not be one of' compressed activity. The religious life is not a tight winding of the human mechanism. The prolonged day of many lay religious demands a physical strength and emotional stability that may be desirable but are rarely attainable. That "a sister nurse should not be given a weekly holiday is one of the inexplicable facts of the religious life, especially when we reflect that her immediate superior has a knowledge of medicine and may. even be meritoriously dabbling in psychoso-matic medicine. The same is true of sisters in institutional work. The week end should not be considered the natural depository for all 'spiritual and qther duties that cannot be squeezed into the week. Other contributing factors to the constant nervous strain are an exaggerated notion Of common life and an excessive, number' of permissions. Common life does not forbid private rooms nor that religious study in their roc~ms. It does not demand tl~at everythifig be done together nor that religious be always together. Life becomes too tense when religious may never go to their rooms, without: the- 307 JOSEPH F. GALLEN / Reoieto for Religio-s permission of the superior, except for the night's sleep. Express per-mission should be necessary for relatively important matters and to the degree that is necessary to .keep obedience reasonably active, but express and particular permission should not be required for the most ordinary and usual actions of everyday life. The number of permissions necessary in many institutes is unreasonable. Local superiors of houses that are not extraordinarily large have admi~tted that practically their whole day consists in sitting in their office and handing out permissions. Such a life is,not only tense; it is imma-ture and an immature exercise of authority. The overworked lives of lay religious demand a proportionate annual vacation. Each in-stitute should strive to have an appropriate vacation place for its members. This will also eliminate the individual vacations that are not conducive to the religious spirit and much less to religious poverty. 10. Selection of local superiors. In my opinion, nothing is more valuable and necessary to religious institute's than outstandingly capable higher superiors, general and provincial. However, the ef-forts of the most talented higher superiors can be frustrated by inept local superiors; and there are few higher superiors who do not re-alize the shortage of capable local superiors. I think we should ad-mit the actual scarcity of the talents required for this position. The sincere admission of this fact has led several authors to suggest a school or previous training for local superiors. I do not see the practicability of the suggestion of a school. It is not impractical to emphasize that one of the most important duties of a higher superior and his or her council is to make a thorough investigation and to give most careful and prolonged thought to the appointment of local superiors. Some previous instruction is possible, especially when all the local superiors in any one year go into office on the same day. They can be brought to the mother house a few weeks before they are to take office, can study the constitutions, and other laws of the institute, be given conferences on government and its problems by the higher superior, on points of the constitutions by the master or mistress of novices, on financial and material matters by the general or provincial treas.ure.r, and on the works of the institute by the various supervisors of these works. One of the real obstacle~ to proper local government is that the local superior is overworked. In some institutes all local government and administration is personally discharged hy the local superior. All government," discipline, "permisSions, finances, m~iterial n(cessiti~s, and" direction of ~he work of th~ h6us~'~re~un'der'him' alone. The 308 November, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION superior would be relieved of overwork, the government could be more spiritual and efficient, and greater opportunity for training others in the exercise of authority would be realized by giving the local superior some help, for example, by having the local assistant take care of ordinary matters of discipline, ordinary permissions, and the material nee~ls of the house and its members. The same question of preparation arises with regard to masters and mistresses of novices. The suggestion of a school is not so im-practicable here, but the general necessity of a prolonged and con-tinuous course of preparation can also be exaggerated. The religious chosen for this position should be of solid spirituality, prudence, mature judgment, and of more than average intelligence and learn-ing. If the institute is clerical, I do not see why such personal qual-ities and his background of dogmatic and moral theology would not enable a priest to master and to present properly the principles of the spiritual life from his own private study. Brothers and sisters also are now more frequently being given theological train-ing. Such training is to be taken into account in making this appoint-ment. It is evident also that theological knowledge alone is not sufficient for the appointment. Brothers and sisters could also at-tend summer courses in ascetical theology or the various institutes on the religious life now being held during the summer. 11. Government. There are few sincere religious who do not sympathize with superiors in their difficult and burdensome duties. Everything in the religious life depends in some way on superiors, and thus the movement of renovation and adaptation will be in-efficacious without their comprehension, cooperation,, and personal participation. The aspect of renovation demands that the govern-ment of superiors be more universally spiritual. Their first duty is to direct their subjects to the essential and universal purpose of the religious state, sanctity of life. It is a certain fact of experience that they will fail in this duty if they themselves are mediocre, indiffer-ent~ or not striving at all for sanctity of life. Superiors who are mere executives, financiers, expert in public relations, good managers, skilled directprs of external works, and those who have lost famili-arity with spiritual principles or are spiritually illiterate have al-ready failed in their first essential duty. Their talents can be em-ployed in other posts; they should not be superiors of religious com-munities. The movement of adaptation strives to intensify, not to lower, the primacy of the essential purpose of the religious life. A not infrequent complaint of subjects is. that their superiors are in- JOSEPH, F. GALLEN ~: Review for? Religious competent or simply not interested in spiritual problems and ques~ tions. The field of religious government and that of conscience hav, e already been explained in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS.9 In talking to subjects on matters within the field of go(~ernment, ,superiors are certain.ly not forbidden to speak of such things as the necessity and importance of the irlterior life or to suggest supernatural motives or practices. They may also speak freely on general spiritual~matters, for example, the necessity, value, methods, and difficulties of prayer. Canon law forbids that a manifestation of conscience be commanded .or induced; it does not forbid any religious superior, including those of lay institutes, to receive a voluntary manifestation of conscience. This law of the Church has been misunderstood. The superior is not to intrude himself into the field of conscience but he is not for-bidden to listen to and to. give advice 'on any such matter that is freely and spontaneously proposed to him. Such manifestations will not be realized unless the superior is sufficienly spiritual himself, spiritually competent with regard to others, and able to inspire their confidence. It is to be equally emphasized that subjects are always free in this matter. Superiors have two practical advantages in spir-itual directiofl that are of no small value in many cases, external knowledge and observation of the subject and the authority to take effective action to aid the subject. ~ Spiritual direction in general is a sufficiently frequent topic in the discussions on adaptation. It 'seems evident enough that habitual spiritual direction is necessary for young religious in the states of formation, adjustment to the active life, and that of the tertianship or period of renovation of spirit. There can be differences of opinion in this sufficiently delicate matter. My own opinion is that any spiritual formation should strive to produce within a reasonable period a formed religious. I conceive a formed religious as one who habitually, with the grace of God, can direct himself or herself. The necessity of spiritual direction for such a religious should be occa-sional, for ~xample, two to four times a year, not habitual., Such a necessity is often satisfied at the retreats or in some cases by the religious superior. Habitual direction is necessary for those who have peculiar problems, and here also the prudent director strives as soon as possible at least to diminish the problem. To me it is by -no means evident that greater sanctity of life necessarily, demands 9. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XII (1953), 30-31. ¯ '3~10 November, 1955 RENOVATION'AND ADAPTA~IION habitual special direction. M~ ~xperience of such religious is that they-have common sense and are merely doing the ordinary things in a more perfect and constant' manner. I am aware of the religious proverb that it is dangerous to,run along .witho'ut the advice of the elders. Most proverbs are only partial truths. Excessive dependence on others is also an evil. Religious are adults; they should live an adult life. No one can live another's life or shoulder another's re-sponsibility before God. Spiritual formation should prepare for life, and the irrefutable fact of the life of the soul is that it must be lived for the most part alone.Relatively very few decisions of the life of the soul can await consultation with a director. There should also be hope of reasonable and proportionate profit in spiritual di-rection. Does experience show any such profit from the habitual direction of chronic mediocre and indifferent religious? Isn't too much direction being "expended in their behalf? No one denies that there should be as much liberty of confession as is possible. This wisdom is evident in the laws and spirit of the Church, but spiritual direction and confession are not identical. The Pope has manifested the necessity of maternal government in instit~tes of women. The same thing has been emphasized by authors as also the need and value of paternal government in insti-tutes of men. This demands no small capabilities in the superior. He must put aside personal and natural indifferences, attractions, and repugnances, and have a supernatural love and interest in all his sub-jects. He has to put off th~ smallness of a vision confined to little things and of a mere prefect of religio~s discipline. He must possess the humility to realize that the office is not for himself; he is not to impose his will but to find the will of God 'for his subjects. Paternal government is a giving, not a receiving; it is selflessness, not self-interest or self-indulgence. The office of superior cannot be one of personal aggrandizement; the superior has no right to material concessions and indulgences or to freedom from religious discipline al~ove his subjects. The superior cannot be cold, harsh, or unfeeling; he must be outstanding in divine charity, mercy, gentle-ness, humility, calmness, politeness, and the capability of guiding a community not so much by ~the tables~of the law as by creating the spirit of a family, of confidence, and cooperation. Paternal gov-ernment is individual. The subject is not a numbered soldier; a community is not a¯mere total of subjects. The religious is to be treated as a son or daughter~. The superior, should know the sub-ject'} individual deficiencies and~ make appropriat& .allowance 311 JOSEPH F. GALLEN them. He~ should also know his individual abilities and strive to assign him to the work for which he is suited. There must be de-tachment in the religious life, but it is not sane government to con-ceive detachment as the nullification of all natural and acquired abilities. Pater~aal government can also be misunderstood by both su-perior and subject. It is certainly to be lavished especially on the aged and really sick. It is also to be extended to the odd, the trouble-some; the mediocre, the indifferent, the weak, the insincere, the lazy, and the childish, but it is not to be confined to them. I wish to break my frail lance in favor of the hard-working, the fervent, the normal. I suspect that many religious cannot meditate on the prodi-gal son without crushing a great sympathy for the elder son. These religious also are to be treated as sons and daughters of the house-hold, not as cousins twice removed from their weaker and childish brethren. Paternal government is not sentimentality, softness; nor is it weakness. It is not to be understood in the sense that the superior always yields to the will of the subject. It is not an exaggeration to sa.y that quite a few communities are ruled by the subjects, and in such circumstances it is not the exemplary subjects who grasp the dragging reins or ease them from the nerveless fingers of the superior. It will not be without profit or interest to study the pertinent com-ments of some eminent and experienced authorities. Father Alberione, superior general of the Society of St. Paul, writes: "In institutes of men superiors sense the need of more means for securing obedience and of a wider path of dismissal. In too many institutes there are religious, especially priests, who do their own will and secure their own indulgence in almost everything; they spend the entire day in idleness and indolence or devote their time to criticism . Greater means would be necessary for the effective attainment of observance and religious activity.''1° Father Suarez, the late master general of the Dominicans, stated: "There should be greater facility in dis-missing religious as on their part the freedom of leaving. The rest, freed of the bad example and of seriously disobedient religious, could devote themselves more peacefully to the religious life.''11 Father Janssens, father general of the Society of Jesus, makes his own the words of an octogenarian of forty years of laudable experience as a superior: "They [superiors] do not nowadays dare to give an 10. Acta et Documenta Congressus Generalis de Statibus Perfections, I, 267-68. .11. Ibid., I, 257. 312 November, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION order; if they should, they do not dare to demand an account of its execution; if they do demand an account, they do not dare to sanc-tion negligence with. penances.''12 Finally, Father Creusen, S.J.: "In superiors of men it is not unusual to observe the lack of authority and government; in superiors of women, the contrary. The former~ should be impressed with the necessity of demanding observance of the rule, of fostering the virtues that correspond to the'vows, of not granting excessive liberty to subjects, "and so forth; to superiors of women one should rather emphasize the need of maternal govern-ment, of appealing to supernatural motives, not to their personal authority, and so forth.''13 A similar topic is that there should be more, though not ex-cessive, government by higher superiors. Too frequently these ap-pear to be insulated in their offices except for the annual appoint-ments and the canonical visitation. The latter can also readily de-generate into little more than a formality. One somewhat modern-means of accomplishing this necessary contact and government is by meetings, for example, with the superiors and appropriate offi-cials of the houses of formation, with all the local superiors or those ,of a particular territory, with those in charge of the external works in local houses, with the general or provincial supervisors of these works. Such meetings will further religious discipline, proper uni-formity, general progress, and help to prevent the perpetuating of the same problems. 12. Tertiansl~ip. In this matter clarity and distinction of con-cepts are desirable. Spiritual formation is begun in the postulancy and noviceship: it is continued in the juniorate. There should also be special guidance during the period of adjustment to the active life. When a juniorate is in existence, there seems to be little need of a prolonged period of spiritual formation before perpetual pro-fession. Most institutes have only three years of temporary vows, ¯ and thus perpetual professton will follow .shortly after the comple-tion of the juniorate. I can see the reasonableness of prescribing a relatively brief period of greater recollection before perpetual pro-fession. The tertianship is rather a period of renovation of spirit, the re-enkindling of the religious spirit and fervor that may hay( grown cold in the active lifeof the institute, a more profound ac-quisition of the genuine spirit of the institute, and a more mature and deeper spiritual formation. I personally think that the appro- 12. Ibid., I, 258. 13. Ibid., I, 254. 313 JO;EPH F. GALLEN Revieu) [or.'R6ligious priate time for the tertianship in lay .institutes is about ten years after the first profession, when the religious is about thirty to thirty-five years of age. Sufficient time has then been spent in the active life, and the age level does not preclude the required docility. Several congregations of sisters in the United States have al-ready instituted a tertianship, dr renovation, as they are more apt to call it, for about six weeks during the summer. This should be the minimum time. My own opinion is that it should not continue longer than six months in lay institutes. The tertianship has been highly praised by Pius XII, warmly recommended by several authors, and is favored but not imposed by the S. C~ngregation of Religious. This whole matter was previously explained in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS.14 "14. Simplification of the religious habit. Plus XII recommended this simplification to religious women and praised institutes that had taken such action. He nowhere affirmed the fairiy common mis-apprehension that this was the only thing to be adapted, that it was the most important or urgent matter of adaptation, or that the 'l~abit should be fundamentally and completely changed. He stated ~bat the habit should express the consecration to Christ and should be appropriate, hygienic, not affected, simple, and religiously modest. Roman C9ngregations had previously manifested that the habit of religious women should be dignified, grave, in keeping with poverty, riot. likely to arouse adverse comment or ridicule, suited to the cli-. mate, and efficient. The question of the habit aptly illustrates one of the great ob-stacles to all adaptation, the excessive attachment to externals. The purpose of the religious habit is that it should be a symbol of, and should express the separation from, th~ world and the consecration to Christ and not that it should do this in any excessively individual or peculiar manner. Attachment 'to the symbol is more tenacious than to its purpose. It appears to be unfortunately true that ex-cesslve attachment to the present habit increases in direct proportion to its evident need of change. On the other hand, this change should be made slowly, prudently; t-be proposed habit should be worn in all the houses by a few religious for a sufficient time of trial; and there should be freedom of suggestion. The change should beoto something better and satisfactory¯ I have seen changes that were 'not improvements. It seems to me also that congregations with 14. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XII (1953), 267. 31~4 Nouember, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION a common founder should strive, if at all possible, to retain their identity or at least similarity of habit. It is strange that women should not know how to dress" and their men should have to instruct them. The Pope has done it, the Roman Congregations, authors, and I now attempt it again.15 Ap-parently the only hope of success is to be very direct and explicit. The habit should be examined on the following points: peculiarities, imprisonment of the face, starch/ ruffles, pleats, quantity of-cloth, number of articles of clothi.n~, capability for the necessary change of clothing, time in laundering,i efficiency, and the existence of summer and winter. As is evident f.rom some simple habits, it .is possible toeliminate all the starch and the imprisonment of the face and ,still have a religious' habit, i The starch, ruffles, and pleats are not simple, unnecessary, and crehte a truly awesome laundry problem. Countlessnovices are being .grounded in spirituality in a 1.aundry. ¯ It must take hours merely tb iron some habits.The poor do not buy such articles of clothing.i Modesty must be preserved but it does not demand the number of a~rtlcles or the quantity of clgthing now worn by most religious women. To take the mildest of examples. If the ordinary sleeves reach [~ the hand, why does modesty demand the ever present wide outer tsleeves?. The Pope said that the habit ~hould be hygienic. This o~viously requires, and it is but one ex-ample, that the waist and sleeves' should be detachable, readlly~ " .change-able, readily laundered. Toiignore this is to prescind from elemen-tary hygiene. Anything that even appears to be odd or peculiar should be ruthlessly eliminated. Jesus Christ was not peculiar in His earthly life, and peculiarity is not an apt symbol of con~ecra-' tion to Him. The modesty iof the habit does not require that it be a mere blessed sack. If all the headings given above are properl~r considered, the resulting habit will be suitable for work and effi-cient. We must remember, ,finally, tl~at no religious institute is or Can be exempt from the cold of winter and the heat of summer. Secular men and women stil! bow to this fact of nature at least by wearing an overcoat during~the winter and, outside of a very few highly nervous lndlwduals, ,thFy do not wear the same coat duriilg the summer, 15. Higher intellectual standards". This topic has also been explained completely in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS.15 All religious 15. Ibid., XII (1953), 256-57. i6. ~bid., X~I (1953), 268-69. ./ JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reuieto /:or Religious and particularly those engaged in teaching should beintellectual and cultured men and women. ~This certainly implies that they have in-tellectual tastes and are constantly reading and studying. Such ~ habit is to be inculcated and emphasized~ from the beginning. It is surprising how often a supposed education, also Catholic, fails to produce a habit of reading. There must also be something to read, and we can finish this topic by emphasizing again the .need of ade-quate libraries in all religious houses. Higher superiors should in-sist that a sufficient outlay for books be part of the annual budget of all houses and they should also 'inspect the libraries during their canonical visitation. 16. Rotation of the same superiors. This matter is both im-portant and practical, but it has been completely explained in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS.17 17~ Mutual knowledge and cooperation with other institutes. All religious should have a sincere and deep reverence, love, and loyalty for their own institute. All are to be real sons and daughters of their institute. ~'They expect paternal government; they should give filial deportment. Modern generations can be justly accused of a greater deficiency in these precious qualities than the generations of the past. In casting off romanticism for realism they may also be putting off love and devotion for cynicism. It is more erroneous to act as if all that is good, holy, and zealous were confined to our own institute. This induces a very repulsive caste pride and is also an evident obstacle to renovation and adapta-tion. We cannot reasonably maintain that all human progress ceased at the death of our founder. The Italians have a good name for par-ticularism; they call it "'iI campanitismo.'" We may freely translate this as a vision narrowed to the village steeple and a life confined to its shadow. Narrowness is a discordant quality in a life supposedly dominated by the limitless truth and good that is God. Religious cannot be lacking in love and reverence for the Church, of which their institute is only a very small and very subordinate part, nor for the diocese, the parish, and other institutes. They should bare a sincere conviction of the good, the greatness, and the accomplishments of other institutes. This demands primarily that they do not harm other institutes, for example, by inaugurating works that are not'necessary in a locality and that can onl~ harm the established works of other institutes. The movement of ad.~ilSta- 17. Ibid., X (1951), 193-200. November, 1955 RENO~CATION AND ADAPTATION tion goes further than the mere avoidance of injury; it emphasizes and promotes cboperation. This has been a primary motive for the various congresses of religious, the permanent commission of mothers general established in Rome, the associations instituted in France and Italy for sisters engaged in the same activities, the con-federations or permanent conferences of higher superiors in France, Portugal, Spain, Brazil, and Canada. The Sacred Congregation of Religious has inspired, fostered, and approved sucl~ associations. It may be maintained that this purpose, is fulfilled in the United States by the National Catholic Educational Association and the Catholic Hospital Association. The Sister-F0rmation Conferences and the meetings of superiors and officials promoted by the Catholic Hospital Association are apt means of accomplishing renovation and adaptation. Seriou~ consideration at least should be given to the formation of a permanent association of higher superiors of religious women in the United States. Common discussion and effort would be very helpful to their common purpose, difficulties, and problems. The formation of all such associations should be a vital movement from within; and the sisters themselves must give practically all the talks, lead, and carry on the discussions. They alone are fully ac-quainted with their life and problems; they can and should solve their own problems and supply their own initiative. Or,hers can at times help or contribute some ideas, but in all such associations and meetings the principal part should be left to the sisters themselves. Adapta-tion is life, not passivity or forced movement; and passive partici-pation is rarely satisfactory or permanent. 19. Pertinent canonical matters. It seems incredible that a re-ligious institute would not have conformed its constitutions to the Code of Canon Law, but it is still possible to encounter such a situ-ation in congregations of sisters. _Quite a few of these congregations retain what is called the direct vote, i. e., all the professed, at least of perpetual vows, vote directly in the general elections. This is contrary to the practice of the Holy See, which demands the system of delegates. Many diocesan congregations are unaware of the fact that their diocesan state, according to canon law and the practice of the Holy See, is only. temporary and probationary and that they should become pontifical. Canon law and the practice of the Holy See also favor the extension of diocesan congregations to many dio-ceses and are opposed to their confinement to the diocese of origin. Some congregations have a structure of government that is intended for a monastery of nuns, not for a congregation of sisters. Several ¯ 317 authOrs have" advised° small and struggling institutes, especially of women, to unite with larger and flourishing institutes and preferably with one of the same origin. This suggestion is practical for a few institutes in the United States. Orders of nuns that certainly cannot observe even minor papal cloister should become congregations. Papal cloister.cannot be ob-seryed~ by institutes that are almost wholly occupied in such works as parish schools. Some congregations of sisters have a strictdr cloister by the law of their constitutions. This cloister should not be ob-structive of the special purpose of the institute. Monasteries of nuns should present any real problems or diffi-culties on papal cloister to the Holy See. If engaged in education, they are to be attentive to the fact that this demands their own proper education. These same monasteries should realize that the Holy See has for a lbng time promoted federations of monasteries of men. The same principle is now merely being extended to monasteries of women. The advantages of federations were authoritatively listed in Sloonsa Christi. Nuns have been isolated from practically all in-novations in" the religious life, and this has riot always been to their advantage. They are also included in the present moxiement of renovation and adaptation and should study especially the advan-tage~ of federations. Those engaged in the mote scientific teaching of religion and who read ~panish will no doubt like to know that the Salesiafis in Argentina publish a monthly magazine entitled Didascalia, devoted to the teaching of' religion. Agents in the United States: Don Bosco College, Newton, New Jersey; in Canada: Salesian of St. John'Bosco, Jacquet River, New Brunswick. In our November, 1954, number, p, 289, we described Volume III of th~ Canon Law Digest, by T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and on p. '306 of the sam~ number we announced that annual loose-leaf supplements to the Digest would be published. The Supplement of 1953 appeared shortly afterwards; and very recen[- ly the Supplement through 1954 has been published. In the valuable work of pre-paring these annual supplements, Father Bouscaren ¯is being aided by Jame~ I. O'Connor, S.J., professor of canon law at West Baden College. Like the Digest itself, the annual supplements are published by The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. An important letter of the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities on the Proper Training of Clerics to an Appreciation of the Divine Ot~ce (Feb. 2, 1945) has been translated into English by T. Lincoln Bouscargn, S.J., and is now published in convenient pamphlet form. The pamphlet includes an excellent bibli-ography by Owen M. Cloran,,S.J. Price, ten cents. Grail Publications, St. Mein-rad, Indiana. 318 ook eviews [All material for this department should be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] SEEDS OF THE DESERT. The Legacy of Charles de Foucauld. By R. Voilluame. Translated and adapfed by Willard Hill. Preface by John LaFarge, S.J. Pp. 368. Fides Publishers Assbciafion, Chicago, IIIinois. 1955. $4.50. Any priest or religious will read this book with a sense of ex-hilaration. Its spirit is aggressive and optimistic and so inexplicable on natural grounds that one cannot help but think that it brings him into direct contact with the life-stream of the Church. The English title~ while'more poetic, is less revealing than the original: Au Coeur des Masses: La Vie Religieuse des Petits Fr~res du P~re de Foucauld: The Little Brothers of Jesus area Congrega-tion founded by Father Refi~ Voillaume according to a plan sketched at the turn of the century by Father Charles de Foucauld. The Con-grega~ ion.was approved by the Church in 1936. The letters of Father Voillaume to the Little BrotHers, which comprise the bulk of the present work, reveal that the purpose of the congregation has been boldly conceived and is being wisely executed. The brothers, some ordained, some lay, intend to bring Christ in His Church to the poor: to the workers of France, the Moslem Arabs of North Africa, . the colored of the Cameroons, the nomads of Transjordan, the under-proletariat of Chile. The plan is de-signedly lacking in methods of apostolic efficiency. It is decidely not of this world in its "foolish" simplicity. In fraternities of from three to five men, the Little Brothers live the life of the poor whose souls they seek; factory wbrkers, fishermen, shepherds. They do not preach; they do not found social organizations; they do not try to change the living conditions of their fellow-workers. This they leave to others. Their eye is on Jesus at Nazareth and their hope is to bring the modern poor to the fullness of Christian life. Their method is to be a leaven of example anal self-immolation among the masses. The difficulties and dangers facing such .an enterprise are ob-vious; and the author is at pains, in his letters to the br0ther~, to point them out and to chart a safe course. Again and again he tells them that in their circumstances mere formal observance~ are not BOOK REvIEws Review [or Religious enough to guarantee the life of perfection to which they have vowed themselves. Only contact with the vivifying person of Christ is powerful enough to weather the fatigue, the discouragement, and the temptations they will encounter. Though much of the guidance Father Voillaume offers the Little Brothers is necessarily of a particular nature, his letters will never-theless have a widespread appeal, especially among religious. The author's love for the poor, his desire to bring God to them, his con-fidence in the power of Christ, and above all his enthusiasm for the little way of the Gospel in a world which thinks big, are plain on every page. His spirit is infectious and will be caught with profit by those whom it touches. The letters on the vows are par-ticularly good. Written on a familiar subject they have a freshness which reflects the vigor of the author's mind. They stress the psy-chological and po.sitive aspects of" the vows and are noticeably de-void of platitudes. Time alone can adequately test the courageous experiment of the Little Brothers of .Jesus. ]3ut if Father Voillaume can plant deeply in his followers the spirit he has left in his book, success seems assured.-~PAUL F. CONEN, S.d. THE EUCHARIST-SACRIFICE. By Reverend Francis J. Wengier. Pp. 286. The Bruce Publishing Co., Milwaukee I, Wisconsin. 1955. $5.00. Father Wengier has given us in this book a notable addition to the growing number of titles of theology in English. The Eucharist- Sacritice is a defense of the opinion of the Reverend M. de la Taille, S.3., on the essence of sacrifice in the Mass as found in the justly famous volume Mysterium Fidei. It also contains chapters dealing with other controversial aspects of eucharistic doctrine,, such as transubstantiation, the actual offerer of the Mass, the quantity of Mass fruits. The last chapter is devoted to a consideration of the Encyclical Letter of Pope Plus XII, Mediator Dei, and an epilogue is added on "The Blessed Virgin and the Mass." Father Wengier defines the Mass as "A true and proper though unbloody Sacrifice of the New Law, instituted by Christ when He said: 'Do this in commemoration of me,' in virtue of which com-mand the beloved Bride of Christ, the Church, doing through her ordained minister what Christ ~Himself did in the Cenacle, renews Christ's sublime Sacrifice by offering to the heavenly Father the very same formal Supper-Golgotha Victim while picturing the Lord's passion in the consecration of the separated :elements of bread and 320 Nouember, 1955 BOOK REVIEWS wine" (p. 102). This definition, which fairly represents the. opin-ion of De lh Taille, is defended particularly against the opinions, of Abbot Vonier (The Keg to the Doctrine of the ~.ucbarist) and Reverend M. D. Forrest (,The Clean Oblation), though others are not neglected. The book is somewhat marred by the undue acerbity with which the author treats the opinions of adversaries. This particular con-troversy, for some reason, always generates a great deal of heat'. Undoubtedly a partial reason at least is the fact that all sides of the controversy appeal to the very same texts of the fathers and the councils, each interpreting them in support of a particular opinion. The chapter which the author heads: "Various Ways to Swerve from the Genuine Idea of the Sacrifice of the Mass" is not calcu-lated to win friends or conciliate opinion. The opinion that a symbolical immolation cannot at the same time be a real immolation will be favored by few theologians. To assure us that there is a symbolical immolation in the Mass and ~hen say that it is not an immolation but an oblation' is liable to be slightly confusing. If immolation is a constituent element of sac-rifice, then it must be present in the sacrifice of the Mass or else that sacrifice is not true and proper as described and defined by the Coun-cil of Trent. The presence of the immolated victim may be a sign that a sacrifice has been completed in the past, but only immolation can be constituent of sacrifice in the present. Again, the adjectives "bloody" and "unbloody" in the Council of Trent can refer only to the immolation since the oblation, taken in the sense of one of the constituent parts of sacrifice, is always unbloody even in a bloody sacrifice. Consequently only a theory which places an unbloody immolation in the Mass together with the oblation would seem to be consonant with the doctrine of Trent. However opinions differ, this book is sure to find an honored place on the bookshelves of theological libraries. It deserves careful reading to appreciate its many fine qualities.--CARL FIRSTOS, S.J. GOD'S HERALDS, A GUIDE TO THE PROPHETS OF ISRAEL. By d. Chalne. Transla÷ed by Brendan McGra÷h, O.S.B. Pp. 236. Joseph Wagner, Inc., New York. 1954. $3.95. To one seriously, interested in reading in English a concise, or-thodox introduction to the canonical Hebrew prophets, God's Her-alds will be most welcome. Father McGrath's translation of the late J. Chaine's Introduction a Ia Lecture des Prophetes meets a real 321 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious need for seminarians, religious, and laymen who are interested in th~ prophets whether from an historical, do, ctrinal, or s,ociological v~iewpoint. After a short chaptbr on prophetism and the social milieu, the author considers pairs or groups of the prophets in a reasonably, accurate chronological order. This treatment is calculated to bring out the climax of divine revelation and the historical drama of God's relations with Israel. If the message of Isaias and deremias is diffi-cult to follow, the reason is to be found in the unavoidable "enfilad-ing that results from this chronological approach. '- The style of the book is quite direct; the content, informative and condensed. Passages are paraphrased rather than quoted. In spite of all this, the salient features of many of the prophets, espe-cially of Jeremias and Ezechiel, stand out cl'early in but a few pages. Although God's Heralds is intended to be a non-technical study, it i's, nevertheless, primarily intended as an introduction or pre-lection to private reading or study of the prophets. One feels that this purpose could be better implemented by the addition of a table or chart indicating the chronological order in which the different prophets and their various oracles should be read. Admittedly, this order is frequently problematic. The whole book, however, supposes a rather definite chronological arrangement; and so a tab-ulated abridgment of the prophets treated w6uld ,be of considerable help to private reading. Nevertheless, the index of texts, plus fre-quent cross-references, enables the student to refer back for the his-torical setting as outlined~in this work. As the translator notes in his preface: "The world of the pro-phets is a complicated one, and it takes serious study to become really familiar with it." Monsieur J. Chaine's small volume is not "affective reading." But sound, even if "non-technical" study of the prophets is required if their message is to ring clear. Father McGrath is to be commended for translatin~ a book on the prophets so apropds of the current needs of clerics and laymen alike in these days when we begin to realize that God will judge the nations. --CHARLES H. GIBLIN, S.,J. (:;)UAESTIONES CANONICAE DE JURE RELIGIOSORUM. By Servo ~,oyeneche, C.M.F. Volume I, pp. 536; Volume II, pp. 496. Insfifufum Jurldlcum Clarefianum, Yla Giulla, 131, Rome, Ifaly. 1954; For more than thirty years Claretian Father Servo Goyeneche has been solving canonical problems concerning religious proposed 322 November, '1955 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS under the heading of Consultationes in the Claretian review entitled Cpmmentarium pro Religi~sis. Now this renowned canonist and professor at the Pontifical Institute Utriusque duris in Rome has arranged all these answers in the order of the canons of the Code of Canon Law and has published them in two volumes under the title of Quaestiones Canonicae. The term religious is used in a wide sense; and, besides the canons contained in the second book of the code under the formal title De Religiosis; it includes most of the other° canons of the code touching religious at least indirectly. Hence the valuable:canon index to be found at the enff df Volume II runs from canon 4 to 2408. , Usually the text given is that which appeared originally in Com-mentarium pro Religiosis. However, the author has noted any change of opinion on the part of a writer quoted and. has included, the answers and interpretations given during the past thirty years both by the Commission for the Interpretation of the Code and those of the various Roman Congregations. This valuable compendium of practical questions and answers regarding religious should find a place in all the clerical communities of religious orders, congregations, and societies. Lay religious (broth-ers and sisters) will hardly find the volumes helpful because they are written in Latin.--ADAM C.' ELLIS, N.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS ACADEMY LIBRARY (3UILD, Fresno, California. One Hundred Years an Orphan. By John T. Dwyer. The book tells the story of Saint Vincent's, San Francisco's Home for Boys, at San Rafael, which completed the first century of its existence in 1955. It is a well-written book and profusely illustrated with many excellent photographs. Pp. 159. $3.00. THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. The Glor~t of Christ. A Pageant of Two Hundred Missionar~j Lives from Apostolic Times to the Present. Age. By Mark L. Kent, LM.M., and Sister Mary Just of Maryknoll. An arresting, dramatic incident introduces each missionary. An appropriate reflection closes the account of his life. Not all the missionaries chosen for the book are canonized saints, though they would be if the Church would still recognize cahonization by popular acclaim as she once did. An inspiring bbok. If they could do so much for Christ, why can't I? Pp. 282. $3.75. 323 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Retffeto.~ for Religious How to Meditate. By Reverend A. Desbuquoit, B~lrnabite. Translated and arranged by Reverend G. Protopap,as, O.M.I. Not only beginners in mental prayer but also those who have practiced it for many years will find the author's analysis of mental prayer enlightening. I/is chapter on "Tasks of Mental Prayer" is particu-larly ~uggestive and should prove very helpful. Pp. 75. Paper $1.00. Spurs to Meditation. By Reverend Bartholomew g. O'Brien. Just how much of a problem formal meditation can .be for a priest, Father O'Brien knows from personal experience in a very large and busy parish where he served for ten years. Spurs to Meditation is written specifically for those priests and seniinarians who still find meditation a problem. The author hopes with good reason that his book will help to solve that problem for many of his readers. Pp. 116. Paper $1.25. ~ CATHOLIC LIFE PUBLICATIONS, Bruce Press, Milwaukee I, Wisc. The Pierced Heart. The Life of Mother Mary Angela Trusz-kowska, Foundress of the Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Felix (Felician Sisters). By Francis A. Cegielka, S.A.C., S.T.D. The Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Felix now comprises ten prov-inces. Three are in Poland, where the congregation was born, and the other seven are in the United States. There are 4,3-37 sisters in the congregation as of 1955. Of these 3,505 are in the United States. Because the sisters are so numerous here, they are known for the many works in which they are engaged, but little is known about them. This is the first biography in English of the remark-able woman who founded this flourishing congregation. It helps us to get to know the Felician Sisters. It is regrettable that the book is so brief, only 76 pages. May the day come soon when we shall have a fullrlength biography. $2.50. THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS, 620 Michigan Ave., N.E., Washington 17, D.C. The Catholic Elementary School Program for Christian Family Living. Edited by Sister Mary Ramon Langdon, O.P., M.A. This book embodies the proceedings of the Workshop on the Catholic Elementary School Program for Christian Family Living conducted at the Catholic University Of America, June 11 to June 22, 1954. It is of interest to pastors and sociologists. Pp. 209. Paper $2.25. The Local Superior in Non-Exempt Clerical Congregations. A Historical Conspectus and a Commentary. By Robe,rt Eamon Mc- 324 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Grath, O.M.I. The book is a thesis submitted to the Catholic Uni-versity of America in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Canon Law. Pp. 127. Paper $2.00. CLONMORE AND REYNOLDS, LTD., 29 Kildare St.; Dublin. The Origin of Political Autborit~ . By Gabriel Bowe, O.P. Certainly a very timely book now that so many false theories on political authority are rife. It is based on a thesis which merit.ed for the author the degree of Lector in Sacred Theology at the Angelicum in Rome. Pp. 102. Cloth 12/6. COLLEGE MISERICORDIA, Dallas, Pennsylvania. Lh;fng the Little Office. By Sister Marianna Gildea, R.S.M. A very effective way to make the recitation of vocal prayers of rule easier, more consoling, and more profitable is to take them as the subject of meditation. Sister Marianna has done just that with the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and in this volume she shares the fruit of her labors with the reader. Do you wish to improve the effectiveness of your recitation of the Little Office? If you do, this book will help you. Pp. 167. Paper $2.75. COMITE DES HOSPITAUX DU QUEBEC, 325 Chemin Sainte- Catherine, Montreal~ Morale et M~d;,cine. By 3ules Paquin, S.d. Doctors and nurses are constantly in need of guidance in handling moral problems aris-ing from the practice of their profession. This need is provided for in Catholic medical and nursing schools by courses in medical ethics. Morale et M~dfcfne is intended as a textbook for such a course, though it would also serve as a handy reference book for doctors and nurses in actual practice. Besides giving a clear exposition of the moral principles connected with the many important problems of modern medicine, the book also contains a section dealing with the moral problems of psychiatry. It will be of interest particularly to re-ligious connected with hospital work. Pp. 489.- . DAUGHTER~ OF SAINT PAPAL, Old Lake Shore Road, Derby, N. Y. Jesus" Alp~'al~t for. R'elfgi~Us. Cbmpiled by the Daughters' 6f SaintPahll There"is ~'cldapt~r fore'ach'l~tter of the alphhbe~i" The first l~.l[f.io;f' each "~b~e~; c'onsi~tsof brief cifiot~ioh~ froh~'H61y Scripture oi~ the virtue dealt" ~'i~h ih"that "~l~'~i3~er: ~Tl~e ~c~'fid"hhif comprises brief quotations.:fr0m the~.writings .of.,t.he ~fa.thers of the Cht@ch- a'nd ,the:~sairits on, ~he,' sam~, virtue;., It 'is not a~boolc;to be "read; but ,a.th'e'sautus-of suggestions.for~:meditatibn. :',Pp~. 'l.24,.-Paper 3-25 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Revieta for. Religious $1.00. Cloth $2.00. The Hero of Molokai. Father Damien, Apostle of the L, epers. By Omer Englebert. Translated by Benjamin T. Crawford. Robert Louis Stevenson, who so eloquently defended Father Damien in his open letter to Doctor Hyde, predicted that the Church would raise Father Damien to the honor of the altars within a century after his death. That prediction is. now in process of verification. His cause has been introduced at Rome, and some significant progre.ss has been reported. The present biography of the hero of M61okai is in a popular vein and should hasten the day of his beatification. Pp. 364. Paper $1.50. Cloth $3.00. FIDES PUBLISHERS, 21 West Superior St., Chicago 10, Illinois. The Psalms. Fides Translation. Introduction and notes by Mary Perkins Ryan. This may be called the laymar~'s own edition of the psalms since the introduction and notes by a lay woman were written with him and his difficulties in mind. Pp. 306. $3.95. FOLIA, 55 Beechwood Avenue, New Rochelle, New York. The Augustinian Concept of Authority/. By H. Hohensee. This volume puts "at the disposition of theologians,' philosophers and classical scholars, teachers and students alike, an abundant source-ma~ erlal for the interpretation of Augustinian thought" on the sub-ject of authority. Pp. 77. Paper $2.00. FREDERICK PUSTET COMPANY, INC., 14 Barclay St., N. Y. 8. In the Light of Christ. Through Meditation to Contemplati'on. Pp. 340. $4.50. Hearts Shall be Enlightened. ReHections [or the Examination o[ Conscience. Pp. 179. $2.50. Both volumes are by Mother Mary Aloysi, S.N.D. Religious, particularly religious women, will be pleased with these two volumes, the latest books from the prolific pen of ~he gifted author. Both volumes are intended to make the meditation and the examination of conscience of the monthly day of rec611ection more fruitful. The first consists of forty inspiring meditations; the second, of.an equal number of reflections. There can be no doubt that a religious who makes her own ahd lives according to th~ teaching so eloqtiently pro-pounded in th~se volumes is very dear to the Heart of Christ. GRAIL PUBLIEATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Blueprint :/or Holiness. "The Christian Mentalit, g. ,By Denis Mooney, O.F.M.This little bookl~t contrasts~ the. Christian men-. 326 . .: .: . November, 1955 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS tality, the effective desire of always, pleasing Go.d, with the natural mentality, the desire of always pleasing self. All our faults and sins have their root in the latter; our virtues spring from the former. The Christian mentality must be expande,.d until it extinguishes the natural mentality. The book is very simply written and~ illustrated with diagrams--something most unusual in aspiritual bool~. Pp. 64. Paper $0.50. ~ The Education of the Religious and Modern Trends. By Rev-erend Manuel Milagro, C.M.F: The author writes specifically for those who are educators of religious destined to become priests. Among [he topics treated are the following: vocation and disci-pline, anticipatory ministerial drills, the educator, the confessor, the superior, the educational formula ora et labora, the ministerial for-mula ora laborando, mental hygiene, rectification of distorted fea-tures. Pp. 97. $0.75. Dedicated Life in the World. Secular Institutes. Edited by Jo-seph E. Haley, C.S.C. The answers to many questions that we are asked about secular institutes are found in this" booklet. We find there their historical background, their canonical status in the light of papal documents, their nature, and finally their present and future status in America. It concludes with a useful bibliography. Pp. 48. $0.25. The Crown of Twelve Stars. Meditations on the Queen of the Universe. By a Ca~rmelite Nun, the Apostolic Carmel, Mangalore, lndia. If you baye been looking for appropriate meditations for the first Saturday of each month, The Crown of Twelve Stars should terminate your search. You may even find that though each indi-vidual meditation is short, it affords enough material for mind and heart for more than one hour of prayer. Pp. 54. $0.35. P. J. KENEDY AND SONS, 12 Barchiy St., New York 8. What the Church Gives Us. By Monsignor James P. Kelly and Mary T. Ellis. Those who have to instruct conveits will welcome this new book on the fundan~entals of the Faith. Though e~senti-ally a catechism, it is not writtefi in question and answer form." Even Catholics could profit by a careful reading of this well-writ-ten book. It deserves a place on the shelf of every lay retreatant's library. Pp. 152. $2.50, ~ The Salt of the Earth. By,Andre Frossard. Translated by Mar-jorie Villiers. Andre Fross,a}d has written a very readable book about the religious life as exemplified in six religiouS.orders, Bene-; BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS dictines, Carmelites, Carthusians, Cistercians, Dominicans, Jesuits, and Franciscans. It was written for people in the world who know little or nothing about religious. It is profusely illustrated with humorous woodcuts. The author is not always accurate about de-tails: The Jesuit General is not appointed by the pope; St. Bernard entered Citeaux with thirty not twenty-five companions; the influx of hermits into theoEgyptian desert began during and not after tbe persecutions. Pp. 160. $2.95. NATIONAL SHRINE OF SAINT ODILIA, Onamia, Minnesota. Odilia, Maid of the Cross. By Bernard C. Miscbke, O.S.C. Would you like to know what life was like in England in those far off days when it was still pagan? What is the historical founda-tion for the legend of St. Ursula and the eleven thousand virgins? Why is St. Odilia the special patron of the Crozier Fathers? You will find the answer to all these questions in Father Mischke's fic-tionalized biography of St. Odilia. Pp. 163. $2.00. SHEED AND WARD, 840 Broadway, New York 3. A Rocking-Horse Catholic is the last book that Caryll House-lander wrote before her death on October 12th, 1954. In it she tells the story of her youth. She was baptized a Catholic when she was six, and so characterizes herself not as a "cradle" but a "rocking-horse" Catholic. She lost the. faith in her teens but found her way back to the Church to become a militant Catholic and the author of six books on religious topics. When you begin to read this book, be sure that you have several hours at your disposal, for you will find it difficult to put it down before you have reached the end. Pp. 148. $2.50. Soeur Angele and the Embarrassed Ladies. By Henri Catalan. Something new in detective fiction: a Sister of Charity appears in the role of detective and solves a murder mystery. Pp. 154. $2.50. TEMPLEGATE PUBLISHERS, Springfield, Illinois. The Our Father. By R. H. J. Steuart, S.J. The conferences of Father Steuart on the Lo~d

Issue 42.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1983. ; Rt vtFw I-or Rvt IGIOU~, (ISSN 0034-639XL published every two months ~s edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St Lout,, Umverslty The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis. MO 63108. REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOtJS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Instltute of the Society of Jesus. St. I.ouis. MO. © 1983 by REVIEW FoR REI.IGtOtJS, Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW VOll RELIC, IOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Jan./Feb., 1983 Volume 42 Number I Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGtOt~S; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVtE'W EOR RELtGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108, "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Review for Religious Volume 42, 1983 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1983 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Signs of Hope in Religious Life Today Stephen Tutas, S.M. Father Tutas has been Superior General'of the Marianists. and is now assigned to their forma-tion center in California. The September-October, 1982 issue carried "Preparing for the 1983 Synod." Father Tutas resides at the Marianist Formation Center. 22622 Marianist Way: Cuper-tino, CA 95014. One of the most important contributions religious women and men can make to the Church in any era is to be signs of hope, encouraging others in their own response to Gold's call by a witness of joyful dedication. This call to religious to be signs of hope is as urgent today as in any other time in the history of the Church. The preparatory document for the 1983 Synod of Bishops states that "the dominant characteristic of our era s~ems to have become that of tensions and divisions., situations of incomprehen~ion, of estrangement, of conflict, of schism, of reciprocal condemnation . " In response to this, 1 believe it is absolutely necessary that we religious today strive to be outstanding men and women of hope. We must really believe--and show our belief--that the Holy Spirit is active in the Church today, and that this active presence of the Spirit is the basis for our hope. Points of Convergence For some time now, ! have been especially sensitive to the signs of hope found in religious life. I was privileged to see some of these signs of hope as 1 met with other superiors general of both men and women religious congrega-tions. The various formal and informal meetings in Rome and elsewhere were for me inspiring moments when we were able to share with each other what we experienced in our visits to communities. It was very heartening for me to see how many points of convergence there were as we discussed the main themes of religious life and were able to refer to so many encouraging examples of 4 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 what was actually being realized on a day-by-day basis in religious communi-ties throughout the world. My personal experience included contact with communities of the Society of Mary (Marianists) in thirty one countries on all the continents. As I found in my exchange of views with others, my experience reflected well the general thrusts in religious life as 1 came to identify these through visits and reports. Obviously, not all that I experience is positive and encouraging. I am painfully aware of the inadequacies in my own life and in the lives of others. It ,is always true that the Church "is at the same time holy and always in need of being purified."~ But while recognizing our failures as religious, I believe it is much more life-giving to look at the signs of hope so evident in the lives of many religious women and men and build on these so that together with other members of the Church we can move forward to the third millennium in a spirit of hope. I often pray in the words of Pope Paul VI that "the world of our time, which is searching, sometimes with anguish, sometimes with hope, be enabled to receive the Good News not from evangelizers who are dejected, discouraged, impatient or anxious, but from ministers of the gospel whose lives glow with fervor, who have first received the joy of Christ, and who are willing to risk their lives so that the kingdom may be proclaimed and the church established in the midst of the world."~ After completing my terms of service as Superior General, 1 was privileged to have several months to devote to prayer and reflection before taking up my new assignment as Director of the Marianist Formation Center in Cupertino, California. Most of this time of prayer and reflection was spent in the Mother-house of the Dallas Province of the School Sisters of Notre Dame in Irving, Texas, where I served as chaplain under ideal conditions that made it easy for me to look back with gratitude and to look forward with hope, while sharing my experience of gratitude and hope with the community as I tried to live fully in the present. Now that 1 have taken up my new life and work in California, With the specific responsibility to promote continuing formation in the Marianist Prov-ince of the Pacific, I would like to share with the readers of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS a gummary of the signs of hope that I see in religious life today. Ten Signs of Hope I have selected ten signs of hope that I find particularly striking. It is evident that these signs do not exist everywhere. And where they do exist, the signs .vary in clarity and intensity. But these signs do exist, and my daily prayer is that they become ever stronger and more general throughout the Church, I hope the readers of this article will find in the list a confirmation of their own experience, and a further encouragement to continue working to make these signs ever more clear and ever more general. 1. A strong commitment to ongoing renewal, emphasizing: - personal and communitarian prayer, making union with God clearly the Signs of Hope in Religious Life Toda.v / 5 basis for religious life: - the building of community, recognizing this bonding in view of a shared ideal as the sign of being a true follower of Christ; - the concern for a greater simplicity of life: - the positive understanding of celibacy as a way of loving rather than as a simple renunciation of marriage and of family. These four points constitute a truly radical change in religious life which is often unnoticed as we ourselves go through it. It is not that the value of prayer, community, simplicity and celibacy were lacking in the past, but that we have been able to give new expression to these values in a changing world. I have selected these four characteristics of renewal as being the most life-giving. First and foremost, of course, m,ust be the contemplative dimension of religious life. I find it significant that the "Conclusive Document"just issued by the Vatican as a follow-up to the 1981 International Congress of Bishops and Others Responsible for Ecclesiastical Vocations declares, in speaking of religious states, that "the contemplative dimension is the true secret of spiritual renewal and apostolic fruitfulness in religious life.'~ All renewal programs begin with this contemplative dimension. Efforts are also being made to emphasize community as a sharing of faith: faith is given expression in a concern for simplicity of life: the commu~ nity of faith is always being urged to look beyond itself. These are outstanding fea-tures of various renewal programs. Perhaps never before in the history of religious life has so much attention been given to providing assistance for continuing formation. This itself is certainly a great sign of hope. 2. A rediscovery of the relevance of the founding charism, along with a renewed interest in the person of the founder or foundress, and also a renewed understanding that the founding charism is just as important for the Church of our time as it was at the time of the actual foundation of the community. The document, "Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious," is an important encouragement for us religious to renew the offering of our cha-risms to the local church, and this with a renewed awareness that we are needed and wanted for the specific gifts God has entrusted to the various religious families in the Church. General chapters, especially in writingconstitutions in response to the Second Vatican Council, have expressed very forcefully how the founding charism is able to meet the urgent needs of the Church in our time. 3. New directions in evangelization, in continued response to that great docu-ment of Pope Paul VI, Evangelization in the Modern World, which followed the 1974 Synod of Bishops on Evangelization. 1 found it very rewarding to read Archbishop Robert Sanchez' address to his .fellow bishops at Collegeville last summer in which he gave heavy emphasis to the dynamic orientations implicit in Pope Paul's statement, saying that "it 6 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 would be difficult to exaggerate the importance that this document will have in revitalizing and prephring the Church for the future . -4 For us religious, this Apostolic Exhortation has sparked and encouraged a gratifying transition from concern about ourselves--even about our survival-- to a greater sense of mission and outreach. 4. The greater insertion of religious corhmunities in the local church and a more ecclesial thrust in solidarity with other religiotls and in collaboration with all others in the local church. As we look back over the past twenty-five years we can appreciate what dramatic changes have taken place in terms of greater collaboration among religious themselves, but also in terms of the active involvement of religious in the life and structures of the local church. The Unions of Superiors General and the national conferences of superiors have provided excellent leadership in this regard. At the same time, more and more bishops are recognizing the unique contribution religious communities can make to the life of the local church. Here, as with the other signs of hope, much needs to be done, but the first step in making this sign clearer and more general is to acknowledge the great strides that have already been realized. 5. The increasing concern for the promotion of justice and peace. 1 am temp~ed to write more extensively aboiat this sign than any other because, as President of the USG Commission Justice and Peace during most of my years as Super-ior General, I was able to witness first hand the response religious have made to the call of the 1971 Synod's document on Justice in the World. Perhaps the simplest statement is best: if the movement to promote.lustlce and peace has developed so strongly in our time. it is in great part due to the courageous initiatives on the part of so many religious throughout the world. 6. The promotion of the laity. It may be surprising to some that ! ha~,e chosen to underline the promotion of the laity as a sign of hope for religious. But ! believe the attention that has been given to the vocation of the laity since Vatican II has served to clarify even more the specific vocation of religious men and women in the Church. Among the significant consequences of this clarification has been greater attention by religious to the witness they give by the quality of their religious life. There is a definite priority given today to being. Religious life, theh, will not be evaluated simply in terms of doing. As important and vital as our work may be, the first and most important contri-bution we religious can make to the Church is in terms of our life. This emphasis religious give to being is a wonderful response to the call of the Church in our time, as this was stated so clearly by Pope John Paul 11 shortly after his election: "What counts most is not what the religious do, but what they are, as persons consecrated to the Lord."5 I also find it encouraging that more and more r~eligi0us ar,e emphasizing a greater collaboration with the laity, recognizing the unique values that each Signs of Hope in Religious Life Today can offer the other. One of my hopes, as a consequenge of the last Synod of Bishops on the Christian Family, has been for a more effective collaboration between the community of religious and the Christian family in the local church. 7. Collaboration in the promotion of vocations. Ever since the Second Vatican Council, the Church has been calling upon all Christians to work together in promoting all Christian vocations. The Conclusive Document referred to ear-lier is an excellent guide t9 help toward the realization of this objective put forward by the council. What I find as a heartening sign of hope is that so many religious communities are making well-organized efforts to collaborate with each other in the promotion of vocations rather than seeking unilaterally to promote their own vocations. Religious who see clearly their responsibility to promot~e a sense of voca-tion in the lives of all, and who offer their own charism to those whom God may call are themselves great signs of hope for the Church in our time. 8. Trends' in .formation and government that assure the best conditions for human development, such as: - concern for affective maturity; - emphasis on freedom and personal responsibility; - endorsement of animation as a way of exercising authority; - general application of the principle of subsidiarity; - appreciation of collegiality on all levels. Each of these points is itself a sign of hope. Taken together, these trends offer great promise for the future of religious life. 9. A reassessement of the role of religious life in the churches of Africa, Latin America and ASia, featuring both a new thrust (from missionary to collabora-tor) and new foundations to implant various expressions of religious life for greater and longer-lasting service to the local church. The kind of thinking sparked by Buhlman's "The Coming of the Third Church" has been both challenging and stimulating for many religious communities. The transition from missionary to collaborator is not easy, but it is being done. and done very well, in so many places. The new foundations, despite the overall decline in numbers and the stead-ily advancing age of communities, are remarkable signs of confidence in God's Providence, that a generous response to the evident needs of God's people is the only way to live. 10. The spirit of hope that is evident in so many leaders of religious today. I am strongly convinced of what 1 like to call "the apostolate of administration." There is nothing more life-giving than a religious leader who is a man or woman of hope and is able to share that hope with others. We religious are blessed in having many women and men of hope among us at this time in the history of religious life. I! / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 As I look at these ten signs of hope, I sense in religious life today a real desire for a way of life that, in the words of Cardinal Pironio, is committed, serious, profound, fraternal, ecclesial. Something really tremendous is happening in the Church today, and this amid the tensions and struggles of life. And so it is very life-giving for us religious to look beyond the day-to-day struggles, the evident failures and shortcomings, to see how God is at work in our lives and to share this experience with each other. Not all that is happening in religious life can be attributed to the Spirit. There is need for continual discernment. But the good that is evident in religious life is a sign of the Spirit at work among us and deserves to be recognized and proclaimed. We are in an age of transition as we experience the death of much of what was familiar and as we experience the birth of a new era in the history of religious life. May our constant prayer be for the grace to believe in the potentiality of our religious communities, recognizing that religious life does have a great mission in the Church today, and that each religious community is called to serve the Church in a special way, offering.its particular charism to be incarnated, adapted and enriched in so many different people. NOTES ~ Lumen Gentium, n. 8. 2Evangelii Nuntiandi, n. 80. 3The Conclusive Document, p. 53. *Origins, Sept. 2, 1982, p. 181. 5October I, 1979. quoted in The Conclusive Document, p. 53. Our Images of God Michael T. Winstanley, S.D.B. Father Winstanley's "The Eucharist as Light and Life" appeared in the issue of November/ December, 1982. He continues to live and teach at Ushaw College: Durham DH7 ORH: England. This is eternal life: to know thee who alone art truly God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent (Jn 17:3). The quality of our praying and living, and of the service we offer to others, depends a great deal on our image of God. The words of Jesus quoted above provoke me to ask: Who is this God whom 1 am invited to come to know genuinely, to whom 1 pray, for whom 1 strive to live? A correlative question follows: What image of God do I communicate to others, do we communicate as religious, as Church? We all have our image of God, though perhaps we have never paused to articulate that image in words. And whether we advert to it or not, we "reli-gious" people cannot avoid conveying an impression of our God to others. We do so, for instance, by the way in which, as parish workers or priests or headmistresses or nurses, we treat the people to whom we minister. And simple, ordinary things can speak loudly about our image of God, things like the architectural design of our churches (especially the position of the altar), the siting and decoration of our community houses, clerical dress, our style of worship. Since all religious have their particular image of God, it is obviously important that, as followers of Jesus, our God be the God of Jesus, the God whom he came to reveal, the God to whom he prayed. It would be rash to presume that his God coincides with mine! It would be equally rash to pre-sume that the image of God we project coincides with the God of Jesus! 9 10 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 Recently, I attended a lecture by the retired Anglican theologian, E.L. Mascall. He was discussing the role of theology in the university. Theo-logy is a word about God. He questioned whether the word about God that was declaimed in the lecture theater was verified in its turn by the word about God so eloquently proclaimed by the life-style and structures of the Theology Department--an interesting question, one that is capable of being transposed to our Churches, hospitals, classrooms, religious communities. A recent con-tributor to this review maintained that the structures and patterns of seminary life have considerable influence (for the worse) on the students' image of God.~ This in turn has a negative effect on their prayer. From what do we fashion our image of God? Later in this article I shall attempt to share with you some reflections on the Scriptures' image of God. With my head ! can acknowledge it as accurate and authentic. But deep down I have another image, a "gut-level image," and this is the image that so often seems to determine my living and my praying. 1 sometimes feel as though I'm watching a slide show in which two projectors are being used and the slides fade into one another. There are the scriptural slides, and then there are the "experience" slides. Sometimes the transitions are smooth and corroborative: at other times there are conflicting and distorting idol-images. One of my friends is a keen golfer. Over his fireplace hangs a picture of a little man in a flat cap who has hit his ball into a bunker and is having difficulty in extricating it. He is just about to move it by hand--ever such a little--when he looks round at the skies and sees a vision of God: an elderly gentleman, with long, flowing beard, his finger waving threateningly. I find it easy to identify with the little golfer. I had a marvelous relationship with my father. I was always sure.of his love and understanding and help. l knew he was on my side; I could trust him implicitly. On the other hand, when 1 was about ten years old, l went for a holiday to the seaside. We were staying with a Catholic family, and they had two children of my own age. On Saturday evening we went to confession. 1 hadn't too much to say, and as I was preparing, l read through the pages of sins which, according to my prayer book, Catholic boys could commit. As a variation on the usual lies and disobedience, I thought I'd add something from the section on the sixth commandment. After all, l had kissed the little girl we were staying with, and maybe that was adultery! The priest behind the grill in that dark box was not amused, but tore strips off me, making me feel utterly evil and rejected by God. When we returned to the hotel, 1 broke down in floods of tears. The scar remains. That slide often fades on to my screen. Maybe God is like that--just maybe. An acquaintance of mine told me that when he wa_s young, he never felt sure of his mother's love. If he was naughty, she gave the impression of withdrawing her love. This made him fearful and anxious and unsure, desper-ately keen to please and not to make mistakes. Our Images of God / "1"~ It is factors like these that have helped to fashion our "gut-level image" of God. Figures like parents, teachers, priests, novice-mistresses have made it easier or more difficult to accept and make really our own the scriptural revelation of God, the Christian image of God. One writer says: "1 am con-vinced that one of the basic reasons for the current difficulties in both Chris-tian and religious life and practice is that we have .lost touch with our God."~ By "our God," he refers to the God of the Bible. So let us explore a little this biblical image of God. The Loving Faithfulness of Yahweh One of the deepest convictions of the people of Old Testament times was that their God, whom they .had come to know as Yahweh, had come out of his distance and mystery, and had approached them, spoken to them, and inter-vened in their history. "At various times in the past, and in various different ways, God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets. (Heb I:l). The story began with the call of Abraham--way back somewhere between the nineteenth and seventeenth centuries B.C. Abraham risked changing his whole way of life in leaving behind homeland--and all that was familiar to him--livelihood, status and security, and migrated to the land of Canaan under the impulse of God's engaging presence in obedience to a promise. The most dramatic intervention of God in their history, chiseled indelibly into the national memory, was the Exodus event. This theme recurs like a leitmotiv throughout the various movements of Old Testament literature, and was made present again in the annual celebration of Passover. In one of the descriptions of the call of Moses, the prophet chosen to play such a key role in God's purposes, we read: I am Yahweh. 1 will free you of the burdens which the Egyptians lay upon you. 1 will release you from slavery to them, and with my arm outstretched and my strokes of power, I will deliver you. I will adopt you as my own people, and I will be your God (Ex 6:6). And Yahweh, they believed, did in fact deliver them in dramatic and exciting fashion from their oppressors. In the ensuing.events of Sinai this motley grouping of nomads received a new unity and identity as God's own chosen people, specially favored and uniquely privileged. Yahweh's relation-ship with them and theirs with him were sealed in the Covenant. One of the salient features of the Old Testament writings is the profound consciousness which Israel evinces continually that she belongs to Yahweh, that she is his community, his people. An extract from Deuteronomy provides ideal expression of this awareness: You are a people consecrated to the Lord your God: the Lord your God has chosen you to be a people of his own possession out of all the peoples that are on the face of the earth. It was not because you were more in number than any other people that the Lord set his love upon you and chose you. for you were the fewest of all peoples: but it is because the Lord loves you and is keeping the oath which he swore to your fathers . 12 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 Know therefore that the Lord.your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments to a thousand generations (Dt 7:6-9). Israel was called, then, because of the love of Yahweh and his enduring faithfulness. And she was called to respond in love and faithfulness to him: this is the meaning of covenant pledge. Again Deuteronomy expresses this in language which is amazing for the height of its idealism and the totality of its commitment: Hear, O Israel, you shall 10ve Yahweh your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might (Dt 6:4-5). Unfortunately, however, Israel did not in general respond very well. Time and again throughout the undulating course of her history, she turned away from Yahweh, falling far short of the demands of love and fidelity, wanting rather to be like the other nations and to follow their ways. Her infidelity is mirrored in the catastrophes which befell her, like the fall of the N. Kingdom to the Assyrians in 721. But the tragic experience of failure brought growing insight into the nature of her God, the kind of God Yahweh really, is. This insight is spelled out most. movingly and beautifully by her prophets. These men were sensiti~zdy awareof Yahweh, of Israel's special calling, of the demands of the Covenant; they were deeply distressed by her waywardness and infidelity. Their image of God, their understanding of him, can be summed up in the twin concepts of love and faithfulness which we have already met. Does a woman forget her baby at the breast. or fail to cherish the son of her womb? Yet even if these forget, 1 will never forget you. See, I have branded you on the palms of my hands. (Is 49:14-16). For the mountains may depart, the hills be shaken, but my love for you will never leave you and my covenant of peace with you will never he shaken (Is 54:10). I will betroth you to myself forever, betroth you with integrity and justice, with tenderness and love: I will betroth you to myself with faithfulness, and you will come to know Yahweh (.Ho 2:21,19,22,20). I have loved you with an everlasting love, so I am constant'in my affection for you (Jr 31:3). And with this realization of God's constancy amidst their failure is born a firm hope for the future. As Jerusalem was about to fall to the Babylonian troops, Jeremiah proclaimed: Our Images of God / 13 Behold the days are coming, says the Lord. when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah . I will put my law within them. and I will write it upon their hearts: and I will be their God and they will be my people. And no longer shall each man teach his neighbor and teach his brother, saying '~Know the Lord," for they shall all know me. from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord (Jr 31:31-34). And there are those inspiring words of Ezekiel: Then I am going to take you from among the nations and gather you together from all the foreign countries, and bring you home to your own land. I shall pour clean water over you and you will be cleansed: I shall cleanse you of all your defilement and all your idols, l shall give you a new heart, and put a new spirit in you: I shall remove the heart of stone from your bodies, and give you a heart of flesh instead. I shall put my spirit in you, and make you keep my laws and respect my observances. You will live in the land which I gave your ancestors. You shall be my people and I shall be your God (Ezk 36:2513. Yahweh, then, is constant: he continues to be present with his people, present in love, and in faithfulness to his choice and to his promise. The Loving Failhfulness of Jesus Centuries later, a man was wandering through the towns and villages of lakeside Galilee, preaching and healing and exorcising. From amongst those who were interested in him, he singled out twelve, as Mark says (Mk 3:!3-15), "to be with him," to share his friendship, life, ideals, and "to be sent," to share his mission. But these men consistently failed to understand him and his message, they were unable to accept the implications of discipleship. They continued to foster the old expectations, to cherish the old dreams, to think in the categories of success, political and nationalist liberation and prosperity, power and glamor. They failed to grasp the meaning of the kingdom he constantly talked about. They lacked insight to perceive who he was, this Jesus from the backwoods of Nazareth. But Jesus did not go back on his choice. One evening, as they were at supper in Jerusalem around the feast of the Passover, he spoke to them with sadness in his voice, telling them that one of their number would shortly betray him, and another, their natural leader and spokesman, would deny all knowl-edge of him. He went on to say that they would all run away and desert him in the end. At the same time, as head of the table, he broke bread and shared it with them as a sign and pledge of his love and friendship. And he offered the cup of wine, and spoke of the longed-for new covenant, the new fellowship with God, his Father, that would be sealed in his own blood. And one of them did, in fact, betray him very soon: Peter denied all acquaintance with him, cursed him even: and the rest of them took to their heels in flight, to a man. The Roman authorities executed him by the hideous and shameful torture-death of crucifixion. The God whom he had proclaimed to be near seemed very far away. 14 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 But early on the Sunday morning, some women friends found that his tomb was empty. Shortly afterwards, this Jesus appeared to Peter and then to or'hers of the group, and they came to know that the Father had raised him from death. Thus, their Risen Lord brought together again his disillusioned and scattered band, whom he loved still, and forgave, and whom he still looked on as his. his chosen ones, to whom he was fai'~hful still. And he breathed his Spirit into them, and constituted them the nucleus of the new covenanted People of God, a God whom, like him, they could now address as Father. These men came to realize that in Jesus they had encountered the love and faithfulness of God present in their midst, enfleshed. The Loving Faithfulness Which is The Spirit The Farewell Discourses of John's gospel provide us with valuable insights into the way in which the love and faithfulness of the Lord are expressed in the age of the Church: It was before the festival of Passover. Jesus knew that his hour had come. and he must leave this world and go to the Father. He had always loved his own who were in the world, and now he was to show the full extent of his love (13:1). After washing their feet as an expression of his loving service, a prophetic sign of his self-giving on the cross, Jesus returns to recline in their midst. Judas departs into the night. And Jesus opens his heart to his friends: "My children, for a little longer I am with you . . . where I am going you cannot come" (13:33). There is an atmosphere of sadness, of impending loss and bereave-ment: "You are plunged into grief because of what 1 have told you" (16:6). Jesus seeks to comfort and reassure them: "Set your troulSled hearts at rest. Trust in God always: trust also in me" (14:1). Jesus' love for his friends is palpable. Evident, too, is his strong desire to remain with them, faithful to those whom he has chosen. They are his friends, not servants. He has disclosed to them everything that he has himself heard from the Father. He has shared with them all his secrets. His willingness to lay down his life is token of his love for them. "As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you. Dwell in my love" (I 5:9). The manner in which Jesus shows his faithfulness and love (and therefore continues to reveal the nature of the Father as Faithful Love), and also con-tinues to be present with them after returning to the Father, is through the gift of the Spirit, the Paraclete: If you love me and keep my commandments, then at my request the Father will give you another Paraclete to be with you forever. He is the Spirit of truth whom the world cannot accept since it neither sees nor recognizes him: but you do recognize him since he remains with you and is in you (14:15-17). For John, the mission of Jesus is to reveal the Father and to give life. The Paraclete is almost another Jesus. His role is to continue Jesus' mission, to be his presence now that he is absent. He functions as teacher and guide, and as Our Images of God / 1'5 witness to the disciples and to the world (see 14:25-26; 15:26; 16:7-11; 16:13-15).3 A similar understanding of the Spirit's role is to be gleaned from the letters of Paul. When writing to the Church at Corinth, he says: And if you and we belong to Christ, guaranteed as his and anointed, it is all God's doing: it is God also who has set his seal upon us. and as a pledge of what is to come has given the Spirit to dwell in our hearts 12 Co 1:21-22). As in the Old Testament, we find again an emphasis on the free, elective love and initiative of the Father, bestowing that profound reality and sense of belonging, and pledging his enduring faithfulness. It is the Spirit dwelling within us who grafts us into Christ and assures us of a future. In Galatians Paul tells us: "To prove that you are sons, God has sent into our hearts the Spirit of his Son, crying 'Abba, Father!' You are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son, then also by God's act an heir" (4:6). Through the Spirit we are caught up in the relationship of Jesus and his Father, and so come to know God as love, as Father, just as Jeremiah and Ezekiel promised. The fact that we are God's children, and therefore heirs, means that this relationship has a lasting future, that God is faithful. in that magnificent hymn in the Letter to the Romans we meet those lines which celebrate the heart of the Good News that God is love and faithfulness; If God is on our side, who is against us?. Then what can separate us from thelove of Christ?. For I am convinced that there is nothing in death or iia life, in the realm of spirits or superhuman powers, in the world as it is or the world as it shall be, in the forces of the universe, in the heights or depths--nothing in all creation that can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (8:31-39). ISon¢lusion The God of the Bible is best understood as Faithfulness and Love. In this way Yahweh reveals himself in the Old Testament period. In his ministry and passover, Jesus reveals the love and faithfulness of the Father~ In the post-resurrection time, the Holy Spirit takes us up into the enduring love and faithfulness of Father and Son, enabling us to know and to live in that mystery. We find, then, a threefold expression of the faithfulness and love which is our Christian God. Returning to our starting point, we need to ask ourselves whether this is in fact our image of God, whether we genuinely know God in this way. "Have I been all this time with you, and you still do not know me?"(Jn 14:9). We must ponder the interaction in i~ur lives and prayer between this biblical image and those many other images which the experiences of our past have fashioned and which tend to become superimposed, creating a distorted picture, preventing us from seeing the God of Jesus in sharp, life-giving focus. Why do we find it so difficult to surrender fully to this God in loving trust? We stand in such great need of healing and integration. 16 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 And what about the image of God which we communicate to those with whom we live, those we meet in our work? Partners in Christian marriage are meant to show forth, the one to the other, something of the love, acceptance, forgiveness, tolerance, understanding and faithfulness of God--for Christian marriage is a sacrament, is a sign of God's faithful love. Their experience together is intended to be a window into the mystery of God, to be revelation. The high incidence of marital breakdown amongst Christians is a tragedy! In a similar way, we in religious and Church communities are called to mirror to one another the authentic face of the God of Jesus. Communities where there exist intolerance, lack of care and compassion, refusal to forgive, authoritarianism, selfishness, harsh judgments, are actually idolatrous; they betray their whole raison d'etre. Parents, we know, have a vital part to play in shaping their children's understanding of God. Whilst making the demands necessary for growth to maturity, parents must convey to their children a sense of being valued for who they are (and not for what they can achieve), a sense of being loved with a love they cannot lose. Sadly, the imperfeciions of parental love can so easily impart an unfavorable image of God. Likewise, in our ministry within the Church and our mission to the world, we religious are constantly and inevitably (albeit at times quite unconsciously) projecting an image of God to those we meet. We need to be alert to and critical of those aspects of our dealing with others, and of our life-style, those facets of our structures, institutions, regulations, forms of leadership and min-istry, which give the lie to the joy-filled Gospel we announce, which present to our world instead an image of God which is a travesty, perpetuating idols of power, success, security, possessions, which instills fear, guilt, anxiety and hopelessness. Jesus prayed to God as Father. The kernel of his preaching was the kingdom, God's nearness to us in acceptance and saving love. He described the prodigality of God's forgiveness in his parables. More importantly, his own way of living and relating proclaimed in language more powerful than words the palpable reality of his mercy and love, especially for the poor and outcast. The source of Jesus' remarkable freedom, his intuition into what in life is really important, his prophetic overturning of so much that had been acceptable in the society, politics and religion of his day, his breaking down and crossing of so many barriers that kept men apart, was, 1 believe, his image of God. Because Jesus knew that God is Father and is very near, and because he surrendered to the exigencies of such a vision, he could serve others in deep compassion and healing care, he could be near to them in self-gift with a courage and faithfulness that did not balk at death. In killing Jesus, men sought to destroy his God, for they perceived that such a God was too uncom-fortable to live with, and the implications of accepting him were too challeng-ing and demanding, calling as they did for radical conversion in outlook, attitude and way of living. Our Images of God / 17 Perhaps there is still much in our Church and in our religious communities to suggest that we perpetuate the attempt to deface and destroy the God of Jesus, and present instead to our world a caricature, a dreadful distortion. In John's gospel, Jesus, in a moment of controversy with the Jews, exclaims: "I was sent by the One who truly is, and him you do not know . It is the Father who glorifies me, he of whom you say, 'He is our God,' though you do not know him!" (7:28; 8:54)--words which leave us much to ponder. But Jes~s also speaks these words of great reassurance and challenge: If you dwell within the revelation I have brought, you are indeed my discip~.es: you shall know the truth, and the truth will se~ you free (8:31-32). NOTES ~Stephen Happel, "The Social Context of Personal Prayer in Seminaries," REVIEW FOR REI.I-GIOUS 39 (1980), pp. 846-854. 2Francis J. Moloney, Disciples and Prophets (London: DLT, 1980), p. 19. SR.E. Brown. The Gospel According to John (London: Chapmans, 1972), pp. 1135-1143. Discovery Why do ! find so much of me within a wood? As if I stumbled on that part of me most pure and good. There, 1 am wise and simple: I know and am understood. (Why do I find so much of me within a wood?) Why in a wood is my soul set free, - Where my eyes like wild things the silence see And ears hear color marvelously. Why in a wood am 1 free? Why in a wood is truth so true And ! in a wood shot trembling through With a worship terrible, ancient, new? Perhaps ! find in a wood---not me-- but You . Sister Ann Maureen, I.H.M. 11201 Academy Road Philadelphia, PA 19154 Scripture: Literary Text and the Word of God Emmerich W. Vogt, O.P. Father Vogt is a doctoral student of the University of California, Berkeley, and the Graduate Theological Union. He is enrolled in a joint program of these institutions in Near Eastern Religion, focusing on the Old Testament. He is also an instructor at Holy Rosary College (Fremont), and resides presently in the Berkeley Priory: 2401 Ridge Road: Berkeley. CA 94709. With the rise of the modern critical sciences and the subsequent and grow-ing concern for scientific critical study, the historical character of the Bible has again and again been called into question. In their scientific investigations, scholars concede that the biblical narratives are not necessarily factually accu-rate. Some narratives, though perhaps based on actual historical events, are themselves fictional. Moreover, literary and form criticisms have shown evi-dence of various literary techniques and genres, such as mythological lan-guage, present in various narratives. To many, this scholarship has led to a certain skepticism regarding the revelatory character of Sacred Scripture and its reliability as the Word of God, something which has been proclaimed by Christians throughout the centuries. Some are led, on the one hand, to deny any authenticity to Scripture as revelation, while others, more fundamentalist in their approach to Scripture and seeking to preserve their faith in it as the Word of God, become hostile towards all historical and literary critical endeavors. The person of faith, having neither the expertise to make a scholarly inquiry, and lacking sufficient instruction from local pastors or religious educators (who themselves are often confused as to the nature of biblical literature), i~ lbd to reject either his or her faith or the methodology of the modern critical sciences. And this situation is present among both clergy and laity. In essence it is a dilemma which stems from a lack of understanding regarding the nature of Scripture as at once a 18 Scripture: Literao, Text and the Word of God / 19 reality of literary language and the Word of God. An illustration of this dilemma can be seen in the life of John Ruskin, a renowned nineteenth-century English art critic. Raised as an Evangelical Christian, from an early age he was taught devotion to Scripture as the Word of God. However, as a grown man in his thirties he lost this faith largely because of a conflict he saw between Scripture and science. He confided this to a friend, Henry Acland, in 1851: You speak of the Flimsiness of your own faith. Mine, which was never strong, is being beaten into mere gold leaf, and flutters in weak rags from the letter of its old forms: but the only letters it can hold by at all are the old Evangelical formulae. If only the Geologists would let me alone, I could do very well but those dreadful Hammers! I hear the clink of them at the end of every cadence of the Bible verses.~ Geology had been successful in weakening the faith of many Victorians, cast-ing doubt on biblical stories such as the Flood. It is very odd, indeed, that an artist and art critic like Ruskin would have had this difficulty. As an artist he "asserted that art itself must be regarded as a 'universal language,' which spoke not to the connoisseur alone but to the whole of modern mankind: a work of art was closely linked with all the other aspects of contemporary civilization.'"- What Ruskin failed to realize was that Scripture is the Word of God in human garb. It is art, it is literature. It is the Word of God, but the Word incarnated in human language. We have come a long way since Ruskin's time in our understanding of both science and of Scripture. Today we are much more accepting of Scripture's true nature as literature. Yet, we hesitate, and for that very reason, to accept Scripture as the Word of God. "We somehow are under the mistaken assumption that if God were to communicate with us, he would have to do so in exact, scientific terms, revealing to us scientific realities. Recognizing the mythopoeic nature of Scrip-ture, we are inhibited from accepting this as a valid means of divine communi-cation. This was Ruskin's problem, which led him to deny Scripture as the Word of God. An examination of the nature of literary language and its prevalence in human culture, however, will manifest its suitability to express the Word of God. The Nature of Literary Lanaguage The preacher captures the attention of his congregation with a moving story that illustr~ites a certain belief. What holds the interest of the listeners is not abstract religious truths bt~t rather religious truths conveyed in image or story forms. What the artist does with images-in-colors the preacher is able to do with images-in-words,~ and the result is a captivated audience. The human person is intrigued by such story-telling. We are image-form-ing people, and this phenomenon is clearly understood, appreciated, and pur-posely exploited by the artist, whether he be painter, song-writer or storyteller. Colorful images and not sterile abstractions are what captivate the human mind. This is illustrated by Erich Fromm in his study of dreams. 20 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 Let us take a mood in which you feel lost, deserted, where the world looks gray, a little frightening though not really dangerous. You want to describe this mood to a friend, but., you find yourself groping for words and eventually feel that nothing you have said is an adequate explanation of the many nuances of the mood. The following night you have a dream. You see yourself in the outskirts of a city just before dawn, the streets are empty except for a milk wagon: the houses look poor, the surroundings are unfamil-iar, you have no means of accustomed transportation to places familiar to you and where you feel you belong. When you wake up and remember the dream, it occurs to you that the feeling you had in the dream was e~actly the feeling of Iostness and grayness you tried to describe to your friend the day before. It is just one picture, whose visualization took less than a second. And yet this picture is a more vivid and precise description than you could have given by talking about it at length.4 This phenomenon is not something new to the human experience. "The ability to make images is:primeval, and it is no accident that the earliest records of human activity show men making pictures."5 The us~ of literary language, however, involves insight, and our endeavor, if we are to fully enjoy and appreciate the artist's creation, is to elucidate the insight the imagery is meant to convey. The words used, the structure within which they are expressed, and so forth, are all carefully laid out by the designer. Luis Alonso Schoekel makes this point in reference to the literary language of Scripture: In literary language, words have an absolute importance, and they are sought with the greatest care~ They are not merely a way of saying something completely separable from what they say. Words are important for their sound quality, for their rhythm in a phrase, for their aura of associations, and for their resonances in the periphery of our consciousness . 6 The choice of words, the creation of moods through images, the ability to effect "resonances in the periphery of our consciousness" give literary language a charism not possible with philosophical abstractions. However, since the modern world has been so greatly influenced by the scientific mind, oftentimes the value of literary language is not appreciated as a valid means of conveying very real truths about human existence. Nevertheless, human literary achieve-ments give witness to this charism: The power of stories, parables and literal untruths to give us information can well be illustrated in the case of proverbs and "cautionary tales." The tales of the Hare and the Tortoise, the Monkey and the ,lar of Nuts, the Ass in the Lion's Skin, and many others like them, have lasted for centuries, passed from one culture to another, and still appeal today. They have survived not just because they are good entertainment, but because they each have a credible point--that life is like that. The same is true of popular proverbs, "The early bird catches the worm," "Too many cooks spoil the broth," "Empty vessels make the most noise". We test them, not by verification of their literal sense, but through living by them and finding them to work out in experience.7 Trained to search for precise, scientific data, however, the modern mind often misunderstands the nature of mythmaking and storytelling as a valid means of teaching morals or handing on true insights drawn from our com-mon experience. "For the philosopher of the age of reason, myths are barbaric superstitions that grossly befogged the mind of man . -8 Scripture: Literary Text and the Word of God / 2"~ An example of this mentality can be seen in an incident related by John Knox about a man who thought an error had crept into the text of Shakes-peare's As You Like It which reads, "books in running brooks, sermons in stones."~ This man thought that the lines must have originally read, "sermons in books, stones in running brooks." Reflecting on the man's observation, Knox remarks: A work of art is called "truer when it effectively embodies a real vision or mood of the artist, though its correspondence with any objective reality is remote indeed. Even in such a case, however, it would be rash to deny any kind of objective reference. When one calls a work "true,"does one not imply, at the very least, that the vision or mood is to some extent or at certain moments shared by others besides the artist and is therefore not entirely subjective? And does one not probably imply that there is something in the real situation of man in the world which gives rise io, or answers to, the artist's feeling? ¯ . . In other words, when we say there are "books in the running brooks," we are making a statement which, if we regard it as true at all, is for us objectively true--quite as much as the statement that stones are there. We mean that "running brooks" have something to teach us--that they really do.t0 The imagery used in a story possesses a certain power--a power not possessed by mere clear and distinct ideas as such--todraw the mind to truths by way of the imagination. However, clear and distinct ideas expressed in conceptual language is thought by many to be the only valid means of com-municating truth, as we can see from the words of the eighteenth-century philosopher, David Hume: If we take in our hand any volume of divinity, or school metaphysics, for instance; let us ask, Does it contain quantity or number? No. Does it contain an experimental reason-ing concerning matter of fact and existence? No. Commit it to the flames. For it can contain nothing but sophistry and illusion.~ This mentality fails to grasp that the nature of literary language is such that stories created by the imagination, while not factual in themselves, nevertheless present the reader with certain truths about reality. It is the "kind of language that can somehow work upon men and lead them to insight and even action, where a more conceptual language might fail."12 Fiction can contain truth precisely as imaginary; it can be expressive of reality.13 The human mind is not drawn by abstract reasoning alone, and man's life entails more than ideas. We come to learn from sense experience, and such experience cannot be conveyed adequately in abstract reasoning. This charism of literary language was not understood by the rationalist, Humian mind. To misunderstand this charism is to "alienate man from his own nature," a point stressed by Edward Schillebeeckx: We might say that it is empirically demonstrable that man is alienated from his own nature if he thinks he has finished with the symbolic thinking of the religious conscious-ness . But in our one-track Western culture we can also demonstrate that the exclusiveness and absolutism of purely, scientific and technological thought., allows whole areas of our humanity to die out or become stunted, and precisely in doing so alienates man from himself.~a 22 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 A ~:lose look, however, at the literary compositions appealing to popular society will reveal that, despite the tendency to downgrade the role of literary language in expressing truths, this charism of language is very prevalent in our contemporary world. Contemporary "Rock," for example, manifests the artist's expression of "truth through images." Simon and Garfunkel's famous song, "Bridge Over Troubled Water," uses such imagery to tell of devoted friendship in a time of personal struggle. Elton John, whose mu.sic appeals to millions of people throughout the world, expresses in ima~gery an autobio-graphical situation from his early adult life in a song entitled "Someone Saved My Life Tonight." In the song he speaks of his former relationship with a woman he describes as "a princess perched in an electric chair." By way of such imagery, he conveys to the listener something of the reality of that relationship. And many articles have been written about the great influence of the Beatles' songs on contemporary society.15 Their songs abound with colorful literary expressions~ It is by way of such imagery, and not in spite of it, that their message is conveyed. These are but a few examples from contemporary popular imagery-in-music that demonstrate the usage of imagery and symbol to convey thought. "People cannot live by abstractions alone"~6 but ~appeal time and again to the image, and this appeal is perennial. It is found not only in contemporary music but in contemporary literature. The current popularity of the writings of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien is evidence of the charism of literary language in contemporary culture. Those who read them are well aware of their fictitious nature, as are those who flock to see the Star Wars sagas and or.her such science-fiction marvels. "Our knowledge that the stories are not factual is neither here nor there. For the stories themselves have power to arouse certain moral attitudes . In addition to its function of allowing the human mind to be creative in conveying truth through story, there is another reason why the .human person seeks to express himself in some medium other than with clear and distinct ideas and conceptual language. This was touched upon.above in the quotation from Erich Fromm: oftentimes we cannot adequately express ourselves through conceptual language alone. Furthermore, not all of our experiences are capable of such expression. Such is the case with re!igious experience. Some other form of expression is needed. Mythopoeic Thought and the Charism of Literary Language Because of the charism of literary language, linguistic expression can be given to that part of reality which escapes scientific scrutiny but which is, nevertheless, real and a part of our existence. Such is the case, for example, with our human urge for survival, for justice, for happiness. These urges, which are universal, experienced by people of all cultures and generations, come into conflict with the historical, existential living out of our lives.~8 The desire for survival is our common experience. We do not desire life for a given Scripture: Literao, Text and the Word of God / 23 number of years only, but eternally; if given a choice we would not have our lives terminate. Whether by witch doctors or miracle vitamins, we seek to prolo.ng our lives, to avoid aging and death. The same is true regarding happiness: we seek happiness not for a predictable number of years but for all our years. We do not want finite happiness as contingent beings, but infinite happiness as immortal beings. The conflict arises when we find ourselves cruelly thwarted. The experience is traumatic. Answers to queries arising out of this conflict escape the scientist; they evade his scientific scrutiny. From the experience of ourselves as contingent, we realize that "man cannot ground the possibilities of his own existence, his knowledge and his ability in his own planning and his own reflection."19 Out of the conflict arises the question of God, and a merely scientific, conceptual language is not adequate to deal with such a reality as God. The human person, being at home with imagery pre-cisely as a human person, resorts to mythopoeic thought to give expression to queries such as the origin of evil and injustice; man's loss of immortality which he so ardently desires; "the origin of the world and of man; the nature of deity; the origins of society and of social institutions; the ultimate validation of moral principles; the purpose and direction of human existence."z° Incapable of being adequately expressed in conceptual language, such queries find expression in mythopoeic thought. Because the language of conversation rarely enables us "to share all the wealth of an experience, or to communicate the richness of what we live within ourselves,TM mythopoeic thought finds expression in and through the charism of literary language. Although the religious experience deals with "problems that lie beyond sensible experience,"~2 the mind can nonetheless give expres-sion to this experience. John Knox saw this need for mythopoeic expression in religious language: In a word, we find ourselves dramatizing or mythologizing. Use either of these terms you will or find some other: bul however you want to say it, the main point is clear and undeniable: we are no longer speaking factually or literally. We cannot speak so when we are speaking of God, for our speech can use ,only the terms provided by our human .experience and thought, and God transcends both. The divine, however near to, even pervasive of, the human it may be, is still essentially transhuman or superhuman.2s God-talk by its very nature den~ands an expression beyond that of the discursive language of the philosopher, an expression that transcends the philosophical. Schillebeeckx cautions that although our talk of God may be inadequate, that is no reason.for silence: Unless linguistic expression is given to the reality which escapes us but grounds our being, even though this may only be through the "poverty" of symbolic expressions, it threatens to disappear into forgetfulness.24 What the person of faith "has experienced," however partially or brokenly, and therefore needs to affirm is, in its fullness or at its source, 'out of this world.''~ When we read the Christian mystics, we notice their frustration at attempting to find words adequate enough to convey their religious experien- 94 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 ces.26 The very stating of the experience seems to make it something less than it is. This demonstrates that the mythopoeic form of expression is not simply an entertaining way of speaking, as in fairy tales, but is necessary if we would convey all of our experience of reality. If we are going to appreciate the language and literature of the Bible, we need to understand mythopoeic expression and how it was used by the peoples of the ancient Near East. Out of the cultures of the ancient Near East came the literature of the Bible, which we call sacred. Literary Language in the Ancient Near East For many centuries the literature of the Bible had to be studied and interpreted simply on its own merits since no extra-biblical literature was known that could elucidate its past. For example, there was no corresponding historical material to enable the scholar to judge the nature of the historical books of the Old Testament. Did they contain history properly understood by modern terms? Knowledge from the cultures of Israel's past was greatly lack-ing, knowledge that would help answer such questions. This situation has changed drastically over the last century due to the discovery of a great number of ancient Near Eastern texts relating to the Hebrew Bible that not only predate it, but bear some strong resemblances to its subject matter. The ancestors of Israel's traditions did not live in isolation but were greatly influ-enced by the predominant cultures of their day. Pius XII, in his encyclical on the study of Scripture, recommends the study of those ancient cultures: It is absolutely necessary for the interpreter to go back in spirit to those remote centuries of the East. and make proper use of the aids afforded by history, archaeology, ethnol-ogy and other sciences in order to discover what literary forms the writers of that early age intended to use and did in fact employ.27 By discovering the literary forms used by Israel's literary ancestors, we better understand the nature of the biblical literature. Innumerable parallels between the cultures of the ancient Near East and the Scriptures have been documented by scholars.28 The wealth of ancient Near Eastern texts discov-ered since the middle of the last century has revealed, among other literary genres, such genres as "epics and myths, hymns and lamentations, proverbs and 'wisdom' composition,"~9 and these from texts of various cultures: Egyp-tian, Mesopotamian, Hittite and Ugaritic.30 Mythopoeic expression was common throughout the ancient Near East. Would this have had an influence on the literature of Israel, even though this latter is said to include the "Word of God"?. Nahum Sarna explains that there was such an influence, and the influence was no slight one: In actual fact, no advanced cultural or religious tradition has ever existed in a vacuum; it cannot therefore be studied in isolation. This is all the more true of the people of Israel. who strode upon the stage of history at a time when the great civilizations of antiquity had already passed their prime . The ancestors of Israel originated in Mesopotamia, wandered through Syria and Canaan, and settled for a prolonged stay in Scripture: Literao, Text and the Word of God / 25 Egypt . The land of Israel enjoyed a location of unique strategic importance as a corridor connecting Europe. Asia and Africa, as well as a window to the Mediterranean lands. Through it crossed the arteries of international communications, and into it flowed the powerful cultural and religious influences of surrounding civilizations. It is no wonder that the culture of Canaan was a mixed one. for its geographic position perforce imparted to it a richly international character that impeded the maintenance of individuality and the development of cultural and religious independence. In view of all this. the discovery of numerous parallels between Israel and her neighbors should hardly occasion surprise and chagrin?~ It can be said, then, that Israel and her literature were certainly influenced by the dominant cultures of her past, just as the world today is influenced by dominant cultures: McDonald's golden arches are found in Paris; Levi jeans are worn in Africa; and Shakespeare is read in Polish. Israel utilized those methods of expression common in the ancient Near East. and she borrowed from their subject matter and imagery, all the while, however, making it her own. Her literature, then, can no longer be naively regarded as a "dictated" Word of God as if somehow removed from human experience and the modes of expression utilized by the human community. Rather, it is the Word of God mediated through a rich literary language. Literary Language in the Bible Although great progress has been made in our understanding of the Bible since the discovery of ancient Near Eastern texts, a confusion has resulted. Sarna remarks that ¯. the modern student of the Bible has at his disposal a formidable array of primary and secondary tools, the fruits of a century of intensive scholarly endeavor. Excellent new translations into modern English, a deluge of popular works on archaeology, a plethora of enyclopedias, dictionaries, historical atlases, reliable non-technical commen-taries of recent vintage, all deprive any literate person of the excuse of ignorance . But the crux of the matter is that in the eyes of modern, secularized man, the Bible has very largely lost its sanctity and relevance?2 ~ We seem to meet with two extremes among readers of the Bible: those who accept the results of the modern critical sciences and have come to understand the true lite'rary nature of Scripture, but as a result do not regard such litera-ture as inspired, and, on the other hand, those.who, intent on maintaining their faith in Scripture as the Word of God, reject the results of the methodologies of the critical sciences when applied to Scripture. Why is this? The predominance of evolutionary theories, the general awareness of the findings of modern science regarding the "birth" of the universe, and the results of comparat.ive studies showing the influence of ancient Near Eastern mythol-ogies on Scripture--all this has had great ramifications regarding the inspired character of the Bible. Genesis has lost its credibility, having been understood literally for so long and by so many. The modern critical sciences have done much to shed light on the literary characteristics of this literature. As a result of such studies, we know that Scripture expresses its message not simply through 26 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 historical narrative, but also by way of poetic narrative. Because the Bible is great literature, it may contain such literary genres as myth, fairy tale, fable, saga, legend, etc.33 For Jews and Christians the Old Testament is sacred and canonical. Faith proclaims that it is inspired: it is the Word of God. Now, when the modern critical sciences discover the presence of mythopoeic expres-sion in Scripture, should the person of faith regard these sciences as a challenge to his or her faith? Or does the Word of God in revelation find expression in and through the charism of literary language? In studying what he calls "the immanence of transcendence: the possibility of expressing the reality of revelation,''34 Schillebeeckx maintains that "trans-cendence lies in human experience." Revelation itself is not a reality apart from human experience: it can be expressed only in and through the medium of human language in such wise that God's revelation comes in the form 'of human ideas and words. This emphasis on the human situation will help us underStand just how God has acted to communicate his word to the human community. As Thomas Aquinas taught, "In the divine Scriptures, divine things are conveyed to us in the manner to which people are accustomed.''35 We experience reality. What is our common mode of expressing that expe-rience? Oftentimes. imagery and mythopoeic expression. If this is the manner to which we are accustomed, and the manner to which people of the ancient Near East were accustomed, should we be surprised, or our faith challenged, because the mythopoeic nature of some of the biblical narratives is made apparent by the modern sciences? Or should we be surprised that God would use this means, to which we are accustomed, to communicate his Word? On the contrary, such an understanding can only serve to enhance our apprecia-tion of that sacred literature. To lack this understanding is to misinterpret and invalidate the scriptural message. "The devastating effect of all this upon faith, when faith was exclusively identified with a literalist approach to Scripture, is abundantly obvious.''36 If for no other reason, Scripture has lost its credibility because modern man has failed to understand that God's word has come to us precisely in our human garb, the human garb of our language, so to speak. It is a failure on the part of the Christian to commit himself or herself to a living and pervading faith in the Incarnation. Scripture is the Word of God mediated through a mythopoeic expression, and richer by that very mediation. NOTES ~George ,P. Landow, The Aesthetic and Critical Theories of John Ruskin (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1971), p. 266. "-The Ent:vclopedia Americana. 1978 ed. s.v. "Ruskin, John." -~Mhson Olds, Stor.v: The Language of Faith (Washington, D.C.: University Press of America. 1977). p.5. '~Erich Fromm, The Forgotten language: An Introduction to the Understanding of Dreams. Scripture: Literary Text and the Word of God / 27 Fairy Tales and Myths (New York: Rinehart, 1951), p. II. ~Gerardus van der l,eeuw, Sacred and Profane Beaut),: The Holy in Art (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston. 1963), p. 155. 6Luis Alonso Schoekel. The Inspired Word: Scripture in the Light of Language and Literature (New York: Herder & Herder. 1965), p. 160. 7peter Donovan, Religious Language (London: Shelden Press, 1976). p. 29. 8Philip Freund. Myths of Creation (New York: Washington Square Press, 1965), p. 20. '~John Knox, Myth and Truth." An Essay on the Language ~?f Faith (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 1964). p. 19. The reference is to Shakespeare's As You Like It, Act II, Scene I. ~Olbid., pp. 20 & 21. ~Donovan, Religious Language. p. 16. ~2John MacQuarrie, God-Talk." An Examination of the Language and Logic of Theology (New York: Harper& Row. 1967), p. 205. MacQuarrie is citing from Hebert's The Bible From Within, p. 176. ~JDonovan, Religious Language. p. 29. ~'~Edward Schillebeeckx, Christ." ~he Experience ~f Jesus as Lord (New York: Seabury Press, 1980), p. 58. ~See, for example, 77me. Dec. 22, 1980. ~rRene Wellek and Austin Warren. Theory of Literature (New York: Harcourt, 1956), chapter 12. ~TDonovan, Religious Language. p. 26. ~SThe following are ideas expressive of those heard in a class at the Graduate Theologic~il Union from Professor Kevin Wall. This notion of the conflict between a person's expected desires or urges and his actual, existential situation of life lived in the world is referred to by Professor Wall as the "myth/history conflict." ~gSchillebeeckx, Christ, p. 47. -'°John L. McKenzie. "Aspects of Old ~estament Thought~" Jerome lh'blical Commentary 77:23 (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1968), p. 740. -'~Alonso Schoekel, The Inspired Word. p. 159. 2~McKenzie, "Aspects," p. 740: -'-~Knox, Myth and Truth. p. 5. ' 2'~Schillebeeckx, Christ. p. 55. ~SKnox. Myth and Truth. p. 81. ~'Such was the case, for example, with St. Catherine of Siena. During a mystical experience brought,on in prayer, Raymond of Capua (her confessor) heard her say, Vidi arcana Dei: "1 have seen the secret things of God." Raymond recounts that, "When, after a great length of time, she returned to her bodily senses sh,e kept repeating the expression Vidi arcana dei. Wishing to know the reason for this 1 said, "Mother. why do you keep saying the same thing over and over again. instead of drawing out for us as usual the meaning o,f what you say, or of adding a word or two of explanation?' 'Because,' she said, '1 find it quite impossible to say anything else. or put it into other words.' "But why,'~ I asked. 'do you find this so now, when you never did before?". 'Because.' she said, 'on this occasion ! am so conscious of how inadequate human words are to express .what I saw. I should feel as if I were only belittling God, and profaning him, by any words I could say. When the mind is rapt in God. and is granted the light and the ability to fix its gaze on him. what it contemplates so far surpasses anything that can be put into words that the one thing seems to be the negation of the other. No: this time I cannot attempt to give you even a faint idea of the things 1 have seen. They cannot be encompassed within the limits by which human speech is bound'" [emphasis added]: Raymond of Capua. The Life of Catherine of Siena, tra,ns, by Conleth Kerns (Wilmington, Delaware: Michael Glazier, Inc., 1980), p. 179. ~TPius XII. Divino A.fflante Spiritu. EB 560. -'SNahum Sarna, Understanding Genesis (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966), p. xxvi. ~S.N. Kramer, Sumerian Mythology: A Study ~f Spiritual and Literary Achievement in the Third Millennium B.C (Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1944). p. 13. ~0See Walter Beyerlin. ed. Near Eastern Religious Texts Relating to the Old Testament (Phila-delphia: Westminster Press, 1978). -~Sarna. Understanding Genesis, pp. xxvi-xxvii. -~'-Ibid. p. xx. ~-~See John I. McKenzie. "The Literary Characteristics of Genesis 2-3," Theological Studies 15 (1954). p. 546. See such scriptural pas'sages as I K 17:7-16; 2 K 4:1-7: 14:9: Nb 22:22-35: and the story of Sodom in Gn 19. ~Schillebeeckx, Christ. p. 55. 35St. Thomas says, "In scriptura autem divina traduntur nobis per modum quo homines solent uti. "Comm. on Heb. ch. I, 1,4 ,quote0 in Alonso Schoekel, The li~spired Word. p. 44. Images of Job Jesse Nash, O.S.B. Brother Nash resides in St. Meinrad Archabbey; St. Meinrad. IN 47577. Every age has its heroes. Religious ages venerate saints and martyrs. Rebellious and turbulent ages tend to venerate rebels and even anti-heroes. Our age is curious in that it is characterized by both tendencies. One would naturally suppose that the heroes of traditional religious groups will sharply clash with those figures idolized by more secular, non-traditional groups in our society. Ahd such is typically the case. What the religious imagination sees as'a virtue, the non-religious or secular imagination disdains. Rarely do both camps find themselves prizing the same figure, whether histori-cal or legendary, as a hero. But the literary character Job is an example of such an exception. Both the traditional religious imagination and the contemporary imag-ination, which includes rebellious religious persons as well as non-religious ones, claim Job as their own. It is the oddity of this dual claim which has prompted this essay. The Book of Job as a Story Like an intricately designed puzzle, the book of Job frustrates the scholar and exegete. It is difficult, some say impossible, to translate. As to how the book came to its final, present form, which is a combination of poetry and prose, scholars are not in agreement. Nor are they in agreement as to how the various parts of the puzzle should really be fit together into one harmonious whole. The questions the book raises are legion. In spite of scholarly difficulties ,with the book of Job, the character of Job has been for centuries a hero of the religious imagination. For Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, Job the man has been a hero to be imitated.~ More specifically, .lob was thought to be a model of patience in the face of a~Jversity. St. James represented all Images of Job / 29 three of these great religious traditions when he used Job as an example for his congregation to imitate: "You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, and how the Lord is compassionate and merciful" (5:11). In more recent times Job the man has become a hero of another sort altogether for both the religious and the secular imaginations. Job as a model of patience has been replaced with the model of Job the rebel. Job has even been adopted by the existentialists as one of their own. Today the Job who shakes his fist at the heavens in outrage and the Job who broods over the meaning of life is of more fascination than the older, more traditional view of Job. Scholars and. laity alike are more attracted to Job the impatient than Job the patient? How, we might ask, could two such contradictory models be constructed around the same literary figure? One reason for this difference in models lies in the structure of the book of Job itself, which looks something like this: 1. Prologue chapters I-2 11. Job's Laments and Debates chapters 3-27 111. A Hymn to Wisdom chapter 28 IV. The Debates Continued chapters 29-37 V. The Divine Speeches chapters 38-41 VI. Epilogue chapter 42 In the prologue and epilogue, the book is basically in prose. The rest of the book is mostly poetic in style. In the prologue Job is patient, and at the end of the divine speeches he surrenders to God, repenting in the end (40:3-5: 42: I-6). From these sections of the book the model of Job the patient was constructed. A different picture of Job is found in his laments and in his argumehts with his friends--here Job is not only impatient, he is rebellious. Thus we have the two models. Of course, the problem with either model is that it relies only on sections of the book congenial to the desired model. The book as a whole is often ignored. When this happens we are only given a glimpse of one image of Job when in fact there are three distinct images of Job in the book: one of patience, one of impatience or rebellion, and one of repentance. The images, at first glance, appear to be contra-dictory. How do we reconcile Job's rebellion with his final repentance? Some have chosen to ignore the repentance as though it were out of place in the book. But as Bernhard Anderson has pointed out, the fact that Job repents is the key to the book as a whole.3 Several scholars, along with Anderson, have stressed that the book of Job should be read as a story.4 By reading the book as a story with each of the various sections belonging together, we find that we do not have to choose between the model of Job the patient and Job the rebel. Neither model really reflects the whole story, so to speak. To choose ,lob the rebel over Job the patient or repentant (or vice versa) neglects the fact that in the book we catch glimpses of at least three moments in the life of a literary figure as he attempts to understand himself, his suffering, his world and his God. To read the book of Job as a story is to read the 30 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 movement of one person from self-assured patience to open rebellion to finally repentance and reconciliation with God. From Patience to Impatience In the prologue, chapters I-2, Job is presented as a successful family and business man with considerable wealth in terms of land, livestock, and servants, He was also blessed with many children. Both the extent of his wealth and the number of his children were signs of God's blessing in the popular piety of the day. Of course, the reason for this blessing was Job's righteousness. He was "blameless and upright, one who feared God, and turned away from evil" (I:1). 'The depth of his piety can be seen in his concern for the spiritual welfare of his children: ¯. he would rise early in the morning and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all: for Job said. "lt may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts." Thus Job did continually (1:5). Such a description not only serves to draw attention to Jo.b's piety, it also points to his wisdom. Although his children had every reason to be contented and thankful to the Lord. the possibility of alienation from God was always present. When misfortune did strik~ Job's children, servants, and property, he reacted as a wise man should. He mourned his loss and worshipped God (1:20). He was steadfast, as St. James said. and reconciled his loss with his faith in God: Naked I came from my mother~ womb, and naked shall 1 return: the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord. In all this he did not sin or charge God with wrong ( 1:21-22). Even when Job himself is afflicted with sores over his body, he remains stead-fast. To his goading wife, he retorts: "Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil" (2:10)? Job's so-called patience was maintained because of his conviction that come what may, good or bad, it comes from God. Thus suffering was something to be endured. This too was part of the popular piety of the Ancient Near East (see Pr 3:1.1-12). ' Needless to say. Job's patience does not last long. As Job's patience ends in the story so does the prologue and thus begins Job's poetic lamentations and debates with his friends. Still, Job does not curse God. Rather. he curses the gift of life: "Let the day perish wherein 1 was born, and the night which said. 'a man child is conceived'" (3:3). His friends protest his outburst. Life. as a gift from God, was sacred to these people. Moreover. and here is a point often missed. Job's outburst is out of character for him. Eliphaz chides him: Behold, you have ,instructed many, and you have strengthened the weak hands. Your words have upheld him who was stumbling, and you have made firm the feeble.knees. But now it has come to you, and you arc impatient: it touches you, and you are dismayed (4:3-5): Images of Job / 31 Having helped others, Job now finds himself unable to cope with his own suffering and pain. He is forced to admit he hasn't the strength to be patient (6:11-13).~ Sheol is a nicer alternative than his present life (3:13-19). Sense of God and Sense of Self Job's patience and wisdom crumble before his pain. He is not being true to form, his friend Eliphaz notes. He becomes rebellious and argues with his friends. Claiming that he has not sinned, he argues that he does not deserve to stiffer in such a way (6:10). His outbursts are directed against God as well: "Why hast thou made me thy mark? Why have 1 become a burden to thee" (7:20)? Being bold in his anger, he would even presume to argue face to face with God to defend himself and the record of his life (13:3-5). Such a posture from Job has led John Bowker to think that Job's "sense of God" has been radically altered. Job no longer knows what to expect from his God, who is supposed to reward the righteous and not punish them.5 But is this actually the case? Did Job's experience of suffering cause him to question the very God he worshipped in the prologue? This question is crucial because'on it hinges the model of Job the rebel. Roland Murphy sheds some light on the question. He notes that Job is expe-riencing "the dark side of God.''6 This side of God'is not new to Job or the reader of the book. In the prologue we are told that God is going to allow Job to be tested (1:8-12: 2:3-6). This is the Hebrew way of saying that God is not above such a thing. The reader is almost immediately confronted with "the dark side of God," Job himself in the prologue relates his misfortunes to the hand of God and claims that evil as well as good should be accepted from God. And in his laments Job never doubts the existence of this side of God. The God Job worships in the prglogue is the same God he rages against in his lamentations. True, Job does rebel, but he rebels because he himself has become a victim of this side of God. Where before he counseled and consoled the victim, now he is one himself. Ironically, he asks: What is man. that thou dost make so much of him, and that thou dost set thy mind upon him. dost visit him every morning, and test him every moment? (7:17). Job has always been aware of this side of God, the testing side. But now that he personally is affected by it he questions the rationale .behind this possibility of the God-human relationship. Becoming more rebellious, he even questions the ration-ale behind punishing sinners: "It~ I sin, what do I do to thee, thou watcher of men" (7:20)? It is Job's "sense of self" that has radically shifted. He complains about the nature of a person's sojourn on earth in general--it is like that of a hired-hand (7:1). Old age also stares at him: "my life is a breath" (7:7), he tells his friends. Angrily, he is forced to conclude that suffering is only an additional complicating factor in the problematic nature of a person's life. 32 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 Job's sense of self is shattered by the greeting he gets from his social world. His friends wrongly associate his affliction with sin. His affliction (remember, he is covered with sores) has ostracized him from his natural acquaintances (19:13-19). Worst of all, "I am repulsive to my wife" (19:!7). His frfistration and rage are exemplified in his protest to his friends: "Why should I not be impatient? Look at me, and be appalled, and lay your hand upon your mouth. When I think of it I am dismayed, and shuddering seizes my flesh" (21:5-6). And while all this has hap-pened to Job, the wicked prosper and grow old peacefully (21:7-21). Tested by God and shunned by his social world, Job rebels. One can under-stand his preference for the peace and rest of Sheol (1:13-19). What one cannot understand is how Job got the reputation over the centuries for being patient. But neither is Job's rebellion the last word in the story. To Repentance Job demanded a face-to-face showdown with God so as to resolve the issues he had raised. Yet when God does appear, much to the surprise of the reader, God does not defend himself by resolving the issues. In the divine speeches (chapters 38-41) God is on the offensive, asking some questions of his own: where was Job at creation or can Job control creation? Job is overwhelmed and concludes: "Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer thee" (40:4)? And finally, "I had heard of thee by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees thee: therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes" (42:5-6). But why does Job repent? God does not actually absolve Job as he had demanded. Instead, Job is given a whirlwind tour of, in G. K. Chesterton's famous phrase, "an idiotic universe," a universe in which the wild ass (39:5ff), the wild ox (39:9ff), the ostrich (39:13ff), Behemoth or the hippopotamus (40:15-24), and even Leviathan or the crocodile (the subject of all of chapter 41) are the wonders that attest to God's glory and power. God here literally sings a hymn of praise to the ostrich, the hippopotamus, and the crocodile, creatures ugly or dangerous to humans. But these are the wonders of the universe according to God. He even seems proud of his "idiotic universe." God's description of the wonders of the universe catches Job off guard, so to speak. "What is man that you make so much of him?" Job had asked earlier. God replies by making much of creatures ugly or dangerous. The divine speeches force . Job to realize that he is not the center of the universe and that humans are not the only concerns God has. In regard to the meaning of the divine speeches, Robert Gordis notes: "The universe was not created exclusively for man's use, and therefore neither it nor its creator can be judged solely by man's standards and goals,w ' Job's rebellion was against his world and his God. God appears and shows him how little Job actually knows and understands. To demand to know the reason for suffering is to ask for more than is possible for humans. But God does not himself offer an easy answer. He confirms Job's suspicions that he has indeed created "an Images of Job / 33 idiotic universe." Nevertheless, a person's first obligation is not to understand but to give glory to the creator come what may.8 By his rebellion Job has caused an imbalance in the divine-human relationship. His repentance restores that relationship. onclusion Perhaps the unnerving thing about the book of Job for the reader of any age is that Job does repent. God in his confrontation with Job never addresses the problem of the suffering of the righteous or even the problem of ordinary living, both of which came to frustrate Job. Rather, God in the divine speeches accepts the world as his creation. He lays claim to it in spite of how crazy the world may appear to us. Job repents, but God declares to his friends that Job had spoken correctly of God (42:7). By his repentance Job accepts God in spite of unanswered questions and "an idiotic universe." Herein may lie a model worth our imitation, a model more challenging than those of Job the patient or the rebel. NOTES ~Nahum N. Glatzer, The Dimensions of Job: A Study and Selected Readings (New York: Schocken Books, 1969), pp. 12-34. 2Qoheleth has also been appropriated by some as a rebel or as an existentialist. For a critique of the use of Job and Qoheleth in such a manner see Robert Gordis, Koheleth-- The Man and His World. 3rd ed. (New York: Schocken Books, 1968), pp. 112-28. 3Bernhard W. Anderson. Understanding the Old Testament, 3rd ed. (Eng!ewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1975), p. 559. 4See Glatzer, p. 4: Robert Gordis, The Book of Job: Commentao', New Translation, and Special Studies (New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America and KTAV, 1974): William J. Whedbee. "The Comedy of Job," in Semeia, 7 (1977), pp. 1-39. 5John Bowker, The Religious Imagination and the Sense of God (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1978), p. 100. ~'Roland E. Murphy, The Psalms, Job, Proclamation Commentaries (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1977). p. 79. 7Gordis. The Book of Job, p. 435. SAnderson. p. 558. A Word On Tomorrow's Renewal M. Helen Hardebeek, O.S.B. Sister Helen has been a member of the Benedictine community of Boerne, Texas. since 1960, and is presently working with Benedictine Sisters in Mexico City. She has attended both public and private universities. She writes "influenced by the totality of these experiences . prompted by a strong desire to encourage my sister and brother religious to see the long-range nature of our renewal efforts." Sister Helen may be addressed at Rio Bamba #870: Delegaci6n Gustavo Madero: Mexico 14. DF. 07300. Tired of talking about renewal? Want to know when we are finally going to settle down? You may be in for a shock: we've only just begun. The thing about renewal is that it never should have stopped happening in the Church in the first place. But stop it did--and that fact stands to warn us that stop it can again. We are made of the same weary bones and tired blood and change-resistant mentalities as those who first began to settle for the routine churchiness which provoked John XXIII to call for an opening of windows in the 1960's. Fifteen to twenty years later, most American Roman Catholic religious communities have lived through renewal processes; whether they have lived through renewal experiences remains an open question. Ask a representative religious (if you cannot find a representative religious; ask just any religious you come across), "How is your community renewing itself?." The answer very likely will be, "We already did." Thus do we set ourselves up a~ marvels of.grace or as paragons of delusion. It is a little like asking, "Are you looking forward to springtime?" and being told, "l've already seen one." Members of a community may feel that they have "renewed"just because they have studied and revised constitutions, set up group-defined goals and objectives, and established committees to evaluate the results of the efforts directed toward achieving those goals and meeting those objectives, While 34 A Word on Tomorrow's Renewal such efforts do indicate a willingness to travel toward renewal, they are no indication that renewal has indeed taken place. True, many aspects of our communities have changed, but l~t's face it: not all change is in the direction of renewal, and we are not always wise and clever and alert enough to catch the difference right away--although we may be scandalized at the thought that for all our prayer and sincerity, We, as groups, actually can make mistakes. Perhaps one of the biggest mistakes we are tempted to make is that of canonizing ourselves before our time, thinking that because we have asked the Spirit to guide us and have trusted the Spirit to guide us, thereby we must have made excellent decisions. The truth is that we--none of us--are immune from the probability of making some mistakes--even in prayed-over group deci-sions. We get together, trust, and do the best we can with the information and inspiration at hand. Nevertheless, it can turn out that, with the best will in the world, groups have made decisions which ultimately do not result in the authentic renewal of ministries and of lives that was intended. And~that does not say that the Spirit hds not been with us! After all, whole masses of populations lack success, lack necessities, lack knowledge, even though the working of the Spirit in their lives may be pro-found-- so profound, in fact, that our age probably will not know what groups and which actions have been truly effective in renewing the face of the earth. Looking at the poor and the oppressed and the ignorant~ one could judge that all they do and have done is to make mistakes! But we don't know. And we don't know about ourselves~ either. So one day we may discover that we have made some bad decisions. Does that mean that the Spirit is not with us, "or was not present at the time of the decision-making? Let us transpose the questions to another level: Is the Spirit not with prayerful poor or oppressed or ignorant persons? H~ive we made successful results to be our criteria by which to judge the value of prayer? It is-not necessarily success that characterizes the value of our renewal efforts. True renewal is characterized by love--a love that keeps growing in the same Spirit~regardless of success or failure, a love that does not allow factions to develop--factions made up of those who knew better all along, those who should have known better in the first place, and those who, in the clear light of hindsight, can now tell us better. Is renewalactive within the hearts of the cOmmunity members? If.so, then renewal is active within the fiber of~the community, and that community will be renewed. Ask ~f the community is loving, open, to the ideas of each person, or are there m(mbers whose ideas are always disregarded a priori because, for example, they "talk all the time without thinking!" Some people, unfortunately pei'haps, think by talking: as a result, much of what they say gets tuned out. Yet, in a "controlled-process situation," where solitary reflection is insisted upon as a pre-requisite to the sharing of insights, the tuning out of anyone by any6ne else is definitely a sigff of bad will, and a hindrance to the renewals process. 36 / Review.for Religious. Jan.-Feb. 1983 Another instance: does a clique of judges hold court privately on the inner workings and outer behaviors of the group? Thoughtful dialogue about per-ceived problems and weaknesses can be a sign of a loving community because thoughtful dialogue imp!ies a sincere desire to include ever more intensely Christ who is present where two or three are gathered in his name; but carping criticism is as different from thoughtful dialogue as chewing gum is from eatirig a hearty meal. Attempts at dialogue with chronic complainers are a wrong-way drive down a one-way street--just that pleasant, and just that effective. On the other hand, dialogue, which includes elements of constructive criticism, can be useful and invigorating. is the community loving? Does every person feel free to express opinions and to raise questions, knowing that the opinion expressed will be valued, and that questions asked will be seen not as signs of stupidity, but rather as signs of sincerity? ls the community loving? Or would a member cringe who has to ask for a substitute to wash dishes, a driver to the doctor, a helper on a project which is running late. So many indications of love, or its absence, could be listed--and most of them come down to simple, everyday acts which indicate an unselfish-ness, a lack of self-importance, a kind way of thinking. The process of renewal should, of its nature, be !ight, joyful, and exciting. What was old is becoming young again! What was broken is being healed! What was listless is being invigorated! When renewal is experienced as tire-some, dull, irksome, something is wrong. The mark has been missed. Better to stop and play a game or put a vase of flowers on the table: to sing a song or have an ice cream party. If we are truly renewing, we are becoming more and more like the happiest people who have ever lived: Jesus, whose awareness of the Father kept him headed toward the breathtaking experience of Resurrec-tion; our founders, whose glimpses of what it means to help others come into contact with Eternal Beauty made their lives adventure stories. Our founding documents brim with the possibilities open in life for you and for me. If we are not filled with happy thanksgiving for creation, not convinced that life is a splendid opportunity for sharing a magnificent message, then we still need renewing. How do we become and stay renewed? A lot depends on attitude. We can go through a group process and come out animated or disgusted--it depends on attitude. Any process can fail if those who come to it are disgruntled because they have to work in small groups, or because they had to stop what they were doing to come to "another meeting," or because they have convinced themselves that processes are for the purpose of manipulation. If process after process results in a heavy, sarcastic atmosphere, it may be time to say, "Per-haps we are not going to be renewed. Maybe we are going to die." And a funeral service could well be the next process--to lay to rest the hopes and dreams of the founder, the hopes and dreams that this group had been ¯ intended to realize today. A Word on Tomorrow's Renewal As we have seen, negative attitudes can sabotage renewal efforts. Positive attitudes, however, can enliven these efforts with ease and graciousness. Con-sider, as an example, the study of revised constitutions. As mentioned earlier, a study does not, in itself, guarantee or signify renewal--but the spirit in which a study is undertaken can be, indeed, a sign of renewal, if the corporate and individual qualities of Christian love highlight the interaction as the members explicate their documents together. Usually revised constitutions are couched in current theological terms-- which undoubtedly are interpreted differently among the membership. A study of these terms and of the varying understandings can be a fruitful "grassroots" source of reflection; and when it turns out that interpretations do differ, perhaps drastically, that is just fin!! Why not? Go through your community's constitution by yourself sometime. Is every phrase crystal clear? Is every underlying assumption apparent and familiar to you? Do you have a suspicion that there is more being implied than a cursory reading indicates? Or do you have other suspicions: that you know exactly what particular passages mean to certain others of your group and that your own interpretation differs vastly from theirs? The process of revising constitu-tions was intended to provide a theoretical framework wherein renewal could take place. The riches of our revised documents may be far greater than we realize, especially if we have not given ourselves the benefit of taking a close look at the fine print, and more especially, if we have not taken advantage of the opportunity to share our insights with others, and of learning from their impressions and reactions. Firm understanding of our own thought takes time; firm understanding of one another's thoughts is an even slower process. It is also tricky in that we must constantly allow for change (growth) in our own and in the other's thinking. However, if we are to know both ourselves and our documents, we may need to face up not only to the inspirational aspects, but also to the hard questions that result when differing interpretations are discussed openly. Did anyone ever say not to question our documents? The asking of searching questions may be a great source of renewal, particularly the asking of searching questions by our own Companions, within the context of our own communities. If we are fortunate enough to belong to a group that is honest, open, and tolerant, we can increase in our appreciation of the elusive nature of truth. As we ponder truth's way of moving past our present understandings, its way of surrendering itself only to the most persistent of pursuers, we can grow in our appreciation of the ongoing nature of truthful renewal--and we will not grow tired. On the contrary, we will grow livelier as we support one another as individuals, as we contribute to the cohesiveness and effectiveness of our communities, and as we witness in our ministries that ongoing efforts are needed if we are to become an ever-renewed people on our way to an ever-new God. Am I Growing Spiritually? Elements for a Theology of Growth Matthias Neuman, O.S.B. Father Neuman is a Professor of Theology at St. Meinrad Seminary. An earlier article, "The Contemporary Spirituality of the Monastic Lectio." is still available as a reprint. Father Net~man may be addressed at St. Meinrad Seminary: St. Meinrad, IN 47577. ecently a student at our seminary expressed his judgment about the quality of the theological and spiritual training offered to him: "Because of the many talents, and abilities of our faculty I am sometimes overwhelmed by the,vast-ness of what one should know and be. This has contributed to .a feeling of insecurityand incompetence on my part in tackling pastoral duties and spir-itual responsibilities." In a later conversation this student indicated that the variety of theological disciplines, the pluralism within each discipline, and the multiplicity of personal spiritualities forced him toward too many choices and subsequently a stalled indecision towards his professional and spiritual devel-opment. This young man. rather sharply reflects the problem that confronts many people today. The American religious scene corrals a grab bag of inter-ests, from mysticism to social action, from pure rationalism to biblical funda-mentalism, from family-c~ntered religion to process cosmology. The spiritually minded individual, fortunately or unfortunately, gets exposed to most of these religious trends at"some time or other. Besides being intellectually confusing this incredible mixture tends to stall one's personal integration, growth and competence in the spiritual life. In this article I wish to explore the possibility and issues of a viable "theology of spiritual growth.L' I would like to search out some concrete directives by which a Christian adult might seriously look at his or her life and give a satisfying response to the question: "Am ! growing spiritually?" 38 Am I Growing Spiritually? / 39 This tremendous concern of faith-minded adults for their o~,n spiritual growth cannot be separated from the larger thrust of American religion into the realm of interiority and spirituality. At the outset it would be good to take some time to clarify what is meant by the two terms spirituality and spiritual growth. At least in Roman Catholic circles, and I suspect beyond, spiritualio, has become a "hot" subject in recent years. Books, workshops, prayer seminars and directed retreats proliferate and vie for the increasing crowd of concerned believers intent on deepening their faith. This movement in spirituality high-lights a number of concerns in American religious practice. There is, first, the desire to break through the abstractions and formalismsof religion to gain a personal, immediate contact with God. This desire also wants to go beyond the generality of scriptural l~hrases such as "life in the Spirit" and "following the Lord." These are certainly important but they need to be fleshed out with a commonsense language of our time and culture. Second, prayer is viewed,as "being-in-the-presence-of" the Divine rather than an obligatory addressing of the Deity; it is personal communion with God. Third, by means of spirifuality people wish to free their emotions and use their real-life experiehces as their primary religious foundation in place of theoretical dogmas. And, lastly, the spirituality thrust calls each man and woman to develop a very persOnal and intimate religious practice. These concerns convey some of the flavor of the spirituglity movement, but they do not make precise the structured shifts that take place in the religious practice.of people. Fo.r this we need to know the basic elements of any spiritu-° ality. I would like to suggest four constitutive elements which are always operative, either explicitly or implicitly, within a given spirituality9 I. The point at which God touches people in their dai~v lives. The~real, generating source of any spirituality is found where the person oi" per~ns s~e~nse the p,resence of Mystery or of the Transcendent in their everyday lives. Wher-ever we sense that a power beyonff draws us out of ourselves and gives us a feeling of awe or of selfless love (the Holy), then a spirituality begins.2 Those everyday moments, places, events or persons which join us to the Transcen-dent ground the structural origin of any sPirituality. 2. The supports constructed to protect and nourish this experience of Mystery. The instinctive reaction to an experience of the Holy is to surround it with activities: derived from our best abilities, which are intended to'shore up and protect, and thus contribute to the likelihood that the Mystery will appear to us again. Whatever form these follow-up activities take, they constitute the intrinsic "devotions" of the spirituality. 3. A method of.focusing one's attention,for the renewed encounter with Mystery. Such styles of "attending" are, in fact, methods of prayer. From a phenom, enological perspective, every style of prayer--meditation or contem-plation, communal or ritual movement--reflects a particular way of organiz- 40 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 19~3 ing and stimulating consciousness to prepare for Mystery. 4. A method of growth and conversion. Every spirituality encloses some plan for extending the benefits and riches of one's contact with God into all other areas of one's life. To meet the Transcendent must rearrange values, and that rearrangement must automatically push itself into all other parts of a person's total !ife-world. A spirituality, then, inherently implies some kind of spiritual growth. This last item of the structure of spirituality needs development, thus bringing us to the major concern of this paper: a theology of spiritual growth. Our American culture is obsessed by the need for progress. People feel compelled to constant growth--intellectually, personally and spiritually. Not unlike so many consumer products that we buy, each year (we feel) we should be able to measure ourselves as "new and improved."This often rabid quest mirrors the ethos of American modernity itself, the cumulative result of indus, trialization, technology, mass media and the.myth of prbgress.3 This cultural storm has flooded into the religious milieu of America as well, engulfing all the branches of the Christian tradition. The myth of contin-ual growth, the American dream, has ever so forcefully incorporated itself into our religious practice and hopes. People feel an intense need to be able to measure and plot their progress toward God. They ask for special courses and practica in spirituality, faith formation and prayer. They seek out spiritual directors with whom to identify evidences of their spiritual growth. This state of affairs generates a plethora of problems. First of all, few people seem to have any clear idea or conviction about what "spiritual growth" really consists of, or how to measure it. Like myths about sex, views of spiritual growth get passed around from popularized article to popularized conference. Countless people strive constantly to improve, to grow, but end up terribly frustrated because they aren't sure if they are getting anywhere-- because adequate criteria and a coherent theory are lacking. Marshall McLuhan once wrote: "The price of eternal vigilance is indifference,TM an ominou~warning for so many who cast themselves headlong into plans of spiritual regeneration. This presents us with a serious problem in Christian spirituality today. In the remainder of this article, I will try to indicate some componen~ts of a theology of spiritual growth which might assist Christians to make a better evaluation of their lives in their journey towards the Mystery of God. Three points, will be specifically addressed: i) the necessity of a critique of cultural theories of human growth; 2) a better use of Christian religious rcseurces as a foundation for valid spiritual growth; and 3) the importance of increasL,g *he role of personal responsibility for one's spiritual growth. The Necessity of a Critique of Growth Theories In the last quarter century, under the onslaught of the psychological revo-lution, an ~er-increasing array of theories of human growth have established Am I Growing Spirituall.v? / 41 themselves as elements of the American cultural scene. Philip Rieff's prophetic warning has ~come of age: Psychological Man lives by the ideal of insight--practical, experimental insight leading to the mastery of his own personality. Psychological Man has turned away from his Occidental preoccupation with transforming the environment and converting others. Rather. he now more nearly imitates the Oriental ideal of salvation through self-contemplative manipulation.5 Some perception and schematizing of human growth has traditionally bei:n a part of all folk wisdoms and religious traditions. The transition from child to adult was always hcknowledged, and a large portion of folk literature dealt'with the shifts in behavior, attitude and community-esteem that attach to the passage from boy to man or girl to woman. Similarly, religious traditions Of every kind have alwa3)~ sought to understand the fundamental ~hifts that occur in the course of human life and how this changes the individual relation-ship with God; the Hindu schema of Student-Householder-Wanderer-Holy Person serves as a typical example.6~However, these traditional understandings of human growth have been sharply accentuated and developed in our hyper-psychologized milieu. Not too long ago psychologists began to delineate more precise stages of growth--down to year-by-year and month-by-month. In addition to more narrowly identifying the temporal sequence, they also expanded the list of means by which such growth should occur. One fairly recent book lists a sample of the ways available to contemporary Americans, offering us growth by means of play, breathing, extended perception, smell, taste, touch, sex, family, encounter groups, peak experiences, gestalt therapies, LSD dreams, meditation, training intuition, psychedelic experiences and-- finally--relaxation .7 In such a supercharged atmosphere, is it any wonder that people start Worrying about "having to grow"?. They check themselves month by month to keep tabs on the normalcy of their progress. A man in a parish once told me of his anxiety that his mid-life crisis hadn't started on time! People can get abnormal trying too hard to be normal. A good theology of spiritual growth ought to address this issue head-on. Available theories are legion in our society. Just consider the complexities of balancing together Piaget's cognitive development,8 Erikson's psycho-social theory of growth,9 l~ohlberg's stages of moral development,10 Richard Jones' structuring of imaginal growth,~ Daniel Levinson's modeling of adult life-transitions, 12 and Elizabeth Kuebler-Ross' enumeration of the stages of dying.~3 Apparently the negotiation of one's way through that maze begins with the first month of life and never ends until the final breath. It would be a grim and determined individual who would seek never to sway from the tough road of.such normalcy: "Narrow is the path that leads to life and few there are who follow it" (Mt 7:!4)! What I find distressing is how easily and totally those growth schemas are imported wholesale into spiritual thinking and writing. Piaget and Kohlberg 42 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 are assumed to present ready-made outlines for faith development.14 Erikson's schema is accepted as the basis for identifying the major steps of adult religious conversion.~5 Levinson's adult life-transitions provide the hidden key to a mid-life "spirituality of crisis."16 . 1 would like to suggest that a theology of spiritual growth ought to provide a much deeper and more detailed critique of these'theories of human growth and their uses for spirituality. While there is much excellent research in these cultural theories of growth and development,and while they certainly offer a mine of insights to be tapped for a theology of spirituality, there is still a need for religious prudence in the acceptance of them.' Too often, for instance,, one encounters the feeling that the accurate following of this or that theory becomes binding ,for human happiness. "Normalcy" equals happiness and fulfillmen!! A theology of spiritual growth should exercise some critical defla-tion of such expectations. ,. Again, readers of psychological theories frequently assume~that a particu-lar age-related growth pattern can be made the target of personal decision and attacked forthwith. They forgetthat the most such schemes can accomplish for any individual is to provide possible awareness-points along the way toward long-range programs and decisions, points which might possibly help people to locate the source of some of their present blockages in one or other unre-solved issue of their past lives. There are, in other words, no instant panaceas. In seeking for balance in the utilization of these chronological growth patterns, a theology of spiritual growth would do well to brush off discarded philosophy books, rehabilitating, for instance, the existentialist notion of "event."~7 In the making of a human life, the setting of attitudes, actions and hopes is as much the result of the particular and unique events which happen to an individual as it is of the unfolding of any chronologically structured growth scheme. Most life events occur without our previous consent,'even though others may be defiberately planned and executed. The powerful exis-tentialist insight into event, however, has recently been smothered, philosophi-cally, in the waves of' structuralism. Bonhoeffer's Letters and Papers from Prison provide a good example of one man whose mind, heart and vision had been irrevocably changed and shaped by his unplanned prison experience.~8 Other areas cannot be developed here. But let me suggest that any ade-quate theology of spiritual growth must incorporate and develop four basic d~,namics of human and spiritual deepening. I have drawn these from a theory that combines social phenomenology and cultural anthropology. ,I. Chronological Growth Stages. This dynamic encompasses the many theo-ries that seek to explain how the structural human being (mind, emotions, sociality, and so forth) moves through the trajectory of life. Its purview.is the time line, and it locates the person as moving successively out of. oqe set of structures into a future set. Most of the growth schemas menti.oned above-- Erikson, Kohlberg, Levinson, and so forth--are good exp?sitors of, this Am I Growing Spiritually? dynamic of human growth. Knowing these chronological stages can give us some positive insight into how we have negotiated the human need to cope With emotional maturity, sociality, intellectual responsibility, and so forth. We need to know this, and it can serve as a fundamental indicator of our spiritual growth toward the mystery of God.19 2. Cultural Exposure. Just as significant for a basic human and spiritual deepening is the dynamic of cultural expression to which a person has been exposed. Here growth opportunities point to a richness or expansiveness of social, personal and religious experiences of life. This may be the. most ne-glected of all the basic areas of human and spiritual growth. Americans espe-cially hax~e been provincial---even to the point of denigrating the cultural riches of other peoples. Yet we have ,to realize that there are many ways of meeting the fundamental issues of life in family and society, of entering into interper-sonal relations, and so on. To limit oneself exclusively to the learned patterns of one:s own family or culture is, in effect, to deny the possibility of other ways of growing that God has offered to the human race. Cultural openness is also a means of grasping more profoundly just how God's life me~rges with our own. A personal example may illustrate what I mean here. 1 was raised in a small midwestern town, in a culture strongly shaped by traditional Germanic values. A cardinal belief of that culture was: You never get something,for nothing. That limited experience kept me from really understanding and inter-igrizing the New Testament notion .o.f charism--a gift of God freely bestowed. It wasn't until I had lived in another culture (Italy)~.f.or four years that the cultural expression of pure gift became an experienced part of my reality, enatiling me to interioriz_e this New Testament meanin.g. I doubt that this could have happened if 1 had clung rigidly to my inherited convictions. A broadbased cultural exposure can be a vital dynamic of both human and spiritual growth. Not only should we recognize this, but we should be ,willing to let ourselves be challenged by it. 3. The Depth of TranSformational Possibilities. This dynamic considers'to what extent the indivi~lual recognizes the opportunities that are available for changing one's life~ The previous element cab present numerous possibilities and values to test One's ability to go~ beyond and enrich one's inherited and socialized culture. This dimension of human deepening, though, looks far mor+ r~dically and openly to the future hnd to the goal of humanization than do the previous two areas. It incorporates the hope and realistic expectation that 6ur live~ can actually be reshaped and renewed into a creative new pattern that combines inherited values and newly-learned cultural expressions. The full reality of spiritual growth, then, must internalize the possibility that the true spiritual person will be the result of a creative religious act.2° 4. Integrative and Creative ~)ecision. This final dynamic specifies that unique moment when the three preceding dimensions are brought into mutual interac- 44 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1983 tion. Chronological growth, cultural possibilities, and projected changes are balanced and ready to be creatively merged by free decisions. This truly inte-grative dynamic of spiritual deepening is the traditional meaning of Wisdom. Christian theology has also called it "discernment in the Spirit of the Lord."!t is an axis of human and spiritual growth which reaches far beyond the simple importation of cultural growth theories into religious spirituality. These four elements of spiritual growth ought to provide at least a basic framework that would take us beyond a simple application of the chronologi-cal growth stages. Spiritual directors and reflective Christian adults should examine all four areas for material to answer the question: Am 1 growing spiritually? Christian Resources and a Theology of Spiritual Growth Having considered the problem of understanding growth in contemporary spirituality and the human social sciences, we must further inquire." Does the Christian religious experience offer any special contributions to this issue of spiritual growth? Does the Christian tradition add any unique perspectives in ascertaining the precise goals, means or methodological steps of authentic spiritual deepening? First, let us acknowledge that Scripture surely affirms some kind of reli-gious maturation. The Apostle Paul gently reprimands his congregation at Corinth: "I treated you as still infants in Christ. What I fed you with was milk, not solid food, for you we.re not yet. rea.dy for it" (I C° 3:1, 2). In another passage he contrasts the ways of Children with those of adults as a norm for spiritual deepening (! Co 13:9-12). Paul further notes the real possibility of regression or backsliding on the" spiritual journey: "! am astonished at the promptness with which you have turned away from the one who called you." (Ga 1:6). Along with other biblical writers (see Jn o16:12) the Apostle of the gentiles presents a definite conviction of the need for growth or deepen-ing on the spiritual journey. But we will look in vain for any systematic description of a life-pattern of holiness in the Scriptures. Alas, no biblical Erikson has appeared to lead us into this Promised Land. At best we can discern religious situations, spiritual responses to the situations, and recogni-tions that people have not progressed as far as they should have. Secondly, from a purely linguistic and cognitive viewpoint the Scriptures complicate the matter of trying to formulate a coherent theory of spiritual growth. This complication results from the cultural and religious pluralism that lies behind the,early Christian writings: this pluralism results in a variety of central symbols--all concretizing the same Christian wa~y.2~ The New Tes-tament encompasses a variety of goals in the spiritual process: the pascha~l pattern of Christ in us (Paul), the kingdom of God (Jesus), the holiness of God (I Peter), the life.and ministry of Jesus (synoptic gospels). Similarly diver~e are the means to attain these goals: aft active moral love (Paul), the new com-mandments (Matthew), loving knowledge (John) and personal conversion Am I Growing Spiritually? (Jesus). As if this were not enough, one fails to find the least evidence of any systematizing method which would trace the step-by-step procedures of spiri-tual growth through the means to the end. While many later Christian writers have attempted to formulate systematizing examples, they all impose a later schema on the earlier texts,z2 The absence in the New Testament of a step-by-step explanation of spiri-tual deepening should be understandable in a moment's reflection: these canonical writings are occasional pieces, not systematic expositions. Moreover, in the cultural milieu of their composition, subjective spiritual growth was not a high priority: it is our modern viewpoint that has elevated it to a primary concern. And yet the richness of spiritual experience in the Christian heritage does possess an immense wealth in its own right, one that need not be clipped or stretched to fit within our cultural categories of human growth. Methodo-logically, this suggests that a revisionist method of theology, such as the one outlined by David Tracy, should be introduced more forcefully into the realm of spirituality.23 The Christian heritage should challenge" contemporary culture, as well as vice-versa. I would like to suggest one issue which might be pursfiEd in this dialectical exchange. The question should be raised: Does the Christian religious vision even allow that spiritual growth have any single necessary ground-plan? Ought we not consider as a real possibility that the reason it is difficult to find a methodo-logical statement of spiritual growth in the Bible is because there isn't supposed to be one? These writings are open-ended! They provide no abs61ute goal of spiritual growth: they offer no absolute means of holiness: they organize no steps in an absolute methodological pattern. Taken as a collection of accumu-lated experience these writings simply give us a variety of examples of men and women who are "on the spiritual way." Like the parable of the Good Samari-tan which avoids a direct answer to the question: "Who is my neighbor?" the wholel import of the scriptural collection deliberately leaves a great deal of latitude for people to choose their own path. The implied message of the Good Samaritan story, "Be loving and you will recognize your neighbor," may be symbolic of the entire scriptural message. Paul's great theme of freedom in the Galatian letter forcefully accents that same open-endedness. "Before faith came, we were allowed no freedom by the Law . The Law was to be our gua~rdian until Christ came . lqow that that time has come we are no longer under that guardian" (Ga 3:23-25). That warning may be spoken against any absolute plan (including a growth plan) that would shackle human freedom. When Paul pleads with his hearers to be guided by the Spirit (5:26), he is admonishing people to remain open and a

Issue 28.5 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 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 VOR R~Joxous; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with eccleslastmal appro~ d by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louts Umverslty, the editorial olhces being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boulevard, Same Louts, ~dlssouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright t~) 1969by REVIEW roa REt.lmo~s at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mars-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money orderpaya-hie to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in LI.S.A currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REview vor~ RELIGIOL$ Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REvlF.w vo~ RELInIot~s; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to REvIEw FOR RELIGIOUS; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to R~vmw FOrt RE~.IoIot:s; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard, Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. SEPTEMBER 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 5 JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL, S.J. Some Reflections on the Religious Life It is no secret that today many religious are under-going a painful identity crisis. Participating in the con-fusion that always accompanies dramatic change in cul-tural patterns (complicated by the extreme rapidity of this change in our modern world), religious are further troubled by the problems posed very existentially to them in their effort to obey the call of Vatican II to renew their authentic living of the gospel pattern ac-cording to the original inspiration of their founder and to adapt their way of living to the signs of the times. The breakdown of external structures which in the past had supported their interior commitment, the loss of comforting customs which had provided a kind of.touch-stone of authenticity (however formalized one felt them to be), the disconcerting shift of attitudes toward the place of the religious life within the Church, the value placed upon active insertion into a secularized world, the challenges to faith itself posed by new theological and liturgical languages and symbols--all of these fac-tors together have brought up in' the minds of many religious agonizing questions concerning the value and even the validity of their lives. A basic question that is often repeated is whether it is possible to specifically distinguish religious life from lay life as a Christian. Having grown up in a culture that took it for granted that the religious life was the "way of perfection" and a "higher" or "better" form of Christian living and, perhaps, having included this idea within the complex of personal motives for following the vocation to the religious life, some re-ligious feel lost and without identity in a world where such abstract and tendentious comparisons are no longer significant. Members of various religious congregations wonder whether there is anything really meaningful in their specific vocation. A divisive and potentially death- 'dealing polarization develops in some communities be- John Carroll Futrell, S.J., is a faculty member of St. Louis University Divinity School; 220 North Spring Ave-nue; St. Louis, Mis-souri 63108. VOL~UME 28, 1969 705 + ÷ ÷ ~lohn Carroll Futrell, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tween those who cling for personal survival to old structures of living, praying, and working, and those who are impatient to reject all that has gone before and to embrace all that is new simply because it is new. The following reflections are addressed to only some aspects of these difficult problems. Much time and prayer Will be needed before effective solutions are found to .them. Nevertheless, it is important that religious do reflect upon them and that they share their reflections with one another in an effort to discern what God is asking of us as religious in our own times. What is offered in the following pages, then, are some reflections, firstly, on the meaning of Christian spirituality in it-self-- whether lived by laymen or by religious; then, on the accurate location of the difference between lay life and religious life; and, finally, on the religious life as institutionalized in the Church and on the function of community structures within religious congregations. A Christian is a person whose life in the world derives its meaning from his faith in Jesus Christ encountered in His Church--who discovers in Jesus Christ God re-vealing Himself to man, judging and freeing us by the cross and resurrection of Christ, and sending His Spirit to enable us to share now and forever in the divine life of the Trinitarian community of love. Ad-herence to a creed of truths, following a moral code, commitment to living out certain religious values: all these are consequences of the basic faith experience of the person of Jesus Christ. A person who merely in-tellectually assents to propositions or who merely decides to espouse certain humanitarian values derived from the gospel is not truly a Christian unless these positions are expressions of his commitment in faith to Jesus Christ and of his belief in the good news which Christ proclaimed. When this faith in Jesus Christ is freely and de-cisively assumed as personal commitment by a person (and not merely as a sociological fact of "religion" in his life), this is the result of a personal experience of the person of Jesus Christ. That is to say, the individual recognizes in the divine revelation in Christ, witnessed to by the Apostles and handed down by the Church, the identification of the universal experience of the trans-cendent- the unknown God obscurely encountered in the openness of the human spirit to the mysterious Absolute. In spite of all the various scientific, philo-sophical, psychological, and magical efforts to explain away this experience, it remains real and undeniable in the self-awareness of human beings who have achieved a certain level of consciousness. Indeed, most children seem to have a real experience of God when they are very young. Wordsworth wrote reams of poetry testifying to this. Teilhard de Chardin has written eloquently of the growth of his experience in The Divine Milieu and has pointed out the errors into which men have fallen "in their attempts to place or even to name the uni-versal Smile" (Torch Books, p. 129). Contact with the Other who makes us feel his presence-in-absence in this experience has been the underlying goal of all the great world religions--and of the psychedelic games of today. The Christian is the person who recognizes in Jesus Christ the face of God: "I am in the Father and the Father is in me." Christian faith experience, then, is the consciousness ¯ of recognition: a recognition of the one true God ex-perienced in one's own interior experience of fulfill-ment, of completion, of "coming home" in faith in Jesus Christ; a recognition experienced also in seeing the lives of Christians who embody the word proclaimed by the Church, in the word of Scripture, in the break-ing of the Eucharistic bread, and progressively in one's own experience of new manhood through lived faith. Faith is certitude derived from the authenticity of witness---of signs--and experienced through living it. It is vital to recognize the particular form of certitude had in faith. It is the certitude of experiential experi-ence, the certitude that comes from fully experienced living. This is the highest form of practical certitude enjoyed by human beings, the form of certitude upon which we base our actual living. It has been well said that "theory is good, but it does not excuse you from living." Men do not guide their lives by the coherent symmetry of logical theories but by the practical under-standing that comes from the certitude of lived ex-perience. For example, the only way that I know that another person really loves me is by faith certitude. I cannot "get into the skin of another," cannot share the unique and incommunicable act of self-awareness within which the other freely determines his relation-ships to all that is exterior to himself---including me. My assurance that he does indeed love me can be based only on signs--words, gestures, all the human modes of non-verbal communication, actions of self-giving, and so forth. Yet, I can come to the greatest certitude of his love because of my lived experience of it. The certitude of faith in Jesus Christ, then, is the certitude of lived experience. It is faith--not the knowl-edge derived from empirical experience of the senses or of microscopes or test tubes, not the knowledge result-ing from the logical necessity of a syllogism, but faith + + 4. VOLUME 28, '1969 707 John Futrell, $.]. REV]EW FOR RELIGIOUS in witness and signs authenticated in the living per-sonal experience of God in the person of Jesus Christ risen and living in His Church. The experience of God is always the experience of presence-in-absence, just as is the experience of personal relationship with any person. Because another person is constituted in his selfhood by his unique self-aware-ness, there always remains a new depth of his person to be penetrated, a further horizon of mutual knowledge and love to beckon us onward. The greatest degree of union and love we reach in our mutual presence always opens outwards to a new profundity yet to be sought --the fascinating and wonderful absence discovered in mutual presence which makes personal relationship a dynamic always growing life and not a gtatic, finished work. Our personal relationship with God in prayer is characterized by this same presence-in-absence, this same experienced love and union, this same certitude of something being lived. Indeed, even our self-awareness is marked by presence-in-absence. The only "I" that I am is the self of the present moment summing up all my past history and straining towards my future self-actualization. But I never grasp this present of myself: it slips into my past even as I try to focus upon it. I know the present, my present, only in the lived experieuce of a unique kind of actuality, of plenitude, of density and richness. I know myself with certitude as presence-in-absence. In the lived experience of God as presence-in-absence in prayer, there is a similar plenitude, richness, density, actuality; and in opening ourselves to welcome God in this experience, we are conscious of a profound tran-quillity, peace, calm--a recognition of "rightness," of our authentic, fulfilled selves. It is this primordial ex-perience of peace in absolute openness to God, in total responsiveness to His word, which, is the touchstone of all future discernment of specific response to a specific divine call in a here and now situation. This experi-enced certitude of lived faith is discovered through the authentic testimony of witnesses who embody the word for us, and it is grasped in our own act of faith because of the signs manifested by these witnesses. This certitude grows progressively stronger as we have the living experience of our own faith, until our faith in God in Jesus Christ becomes the greatest certitude of our lives, a certitude daily renewed and accomplished anew everyday, just as is our love of another. On the other hand, it is important to notice the es-sential difference between the experience of personal relations with other human persons and with God in Christ. Another human is bodily present to me and his body mediates his interiority to me. God is not bodily present to me nor is the risen Christ in His human body. I cannot affirm the existence of God as the basis of the experience of his presence-in-absence as I can affirm the existence of another man. Even philosophical demonstrations of the existence of God, while they may be perfectly valid, do not give me God as the object of interior experience. For this reason, even the greatest mystics have always testified that they never felt that their interior experi-ence placed them outside the domain of faith. It is al-ways by faith, which is essentially a divine gift originat-ing from a gracious divine initiative, that we come to realize our experience of God in Christ. The Christian life, then, is a faith--a life of faith. No matter how we analyze the spiritual life according to human scien-tific categories, the object of our experience never leaves the realm of faith. That is why divine revelation in the Bible in no way claims to be a theory of our relations with God. On the contrary, it is the history of this relation which is there taught. And it is fundamental that the origin of our existence and of our reIationship with God is His divine initiative, that the beginning of this history is divine. This fact exactly situates the continuing relationship between God and us: every-thing depends upon His divine initiative. Faith is al-ways a gift. To be a Christian, then, means to live a life grounded in the personal faith experience of God in Jesus Christ. Now, human beings first experience--first live, and only thereafter do they seek to express their experiences and to reflect upon them. It is vital, therefore, to dis-tinguish the lived experience from its expression and from theoretical reflection upon this expression. In the life of the Church, lived Christian experience, the living tradition of the Christ-event as experienced by the community of believers, is primordial. The expressions of this experience at various historical and cultural epochs during the last two thousand years are only temporally conditioned, relative expressions of this ex-perience. The role of theology within the Church is always the re-expression and the re-interpretation of this primordial Christian experience in contemporary language, contemporary conceptual structures, contem-porary cultural contexts. What is essential is always authentically to preserve spiritual continuity across rad-ical cultural discontinuity. Similarly, the faith experience of an individual Chris-tian, beginning with his earliest experiences of God as a child, are necessarily conditioned in their relative expression by the language, the. symbols, the images ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li]e VOLUME 28, 1969 709 John Carroll REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~10 available to him at a given age and stage of maturity. As he grows humanly and intellectually and rejects the anthropomorphic images of early childhood, such as God the kind grandaddy with a long beard, or the romantic idealizations of adolescence (which were the only modes of expression then available to him), he must not at the same time reject his certitude of the lived experience of God. All the great masters of prayer testify that prayer becomes progressively simpler, more and more leaning upon bare faith, less and less at-tached to a series of concepts or emotions. This is because one is entering more profoundly into the density and richness of God's presence-in-absence, into the lived experience of personal union with God in Christ which is beyond expression and theorizing. There is no greater certitude in life than this lived experience of God. The individual Christian, too, must preserve au-thentic spiritual continuity across the radical discon-tinuity of his language and images and symbols as he grOWS. Now, the Christian, having found the meaning of his life in the world in his faith in Jesus Christ, must live this faith in all the situations of his daily life. He must witness to his faith by a Christian style of life, a Christian spirituality. This is always true of all Chris-tians, even though the concrete expressions of this life style are relative to the historical and cultural context and the concrete situations within which Christianity is being lived. The essential elements of Christian spirituality are always the same: living out Christ's great command-ment of love according ~o the general norms He enunci-ated in the Beatitudes and exemplified in His life. How-ever, these essential elements will be expressed in different ways discerned by prophetically interpreting ex-istential situations, that is to say, by prayerfully reflect-ing upon the challenges posed by the signs of the times in the light of the gospel, in order to recognize and respond to God's word here and now. It is through listening to the world--the existential word of God--- and at the same time listening to the Spirit--the pro-phetic word of God in Christ in the Church and in the individual Christian--that through a continuing dia-lectic the Christian discerns how to live his Christian faith here and now. He confirms the validity of the decision arrived at through this discernment by com-paring his inner experience of peace and tranquillity in this specific choice with the peace and tranquillity enjoyed in his primordial experience of openness and surrender to God in Christ. All Christians are called to this essential Christian spirituality. In living their discerned life style, all Chris-tians must witness to both the incarnational and the eschatological aspects of the Christ life which animates the Church: the presence of the Spirit of the risen Christ in His Church renewing tile earth by unifying mankind and transforming the universe--building the earth to its fulfillment in Christ-Pleroma; and also the Christian hope in Christ who is to come in the final accomplish-ment of the kingdom of God in the Parousia. All Chris-tians must express the "cosmological" love of God im-manent in the ongoing new creation accomplished by the Spirit of Christ through the efforts of men in the history of the world; and all must express the "trans-cendent" love of God the absolute future of man--the Father who is known only in Christ, the Trinitarian community of love which will be shared perfectly by men in their union with one another and with the Father in Christ through the Spirit when Christ comes again. The manner in which individual Christians are to express ,this twofold Christian love is discerned in the here and now situation of their own historical and cultural context. This individual expression takes place within the community of Christians and is grounded in the initiative that comes from God: different gifts, dif-ferent charisms, different divine initiatives, different calls--all for the service of the entire People of God, all ordered to the community expression of the Christ life in the world and to the embodiment of the two aspects of Christian love. II Essentially, then, there is only one Christian spirit-ualitv, always aimed at the full possession of all men b~ tl~e Father through Christ in the Spirit. This is true because there is only one essential Christian vision of the meaning of life in the world, a vision based upon the faith experience of God revealing Himself to men in Christ through the Spirit living in the Church. The differences in the manner of living out this one spirituality originate in the various expressions of this spirituality determined by historical and cultural con-texts and, also, in the different charisms given by the Holy Spirit to individual Christians to enable them to serve the Church in specific ways. The distinctive func-tions within the Church of bishops, priests, religious, and laymen are grounded in these different charisms. The distinctive styles of life or spiritualities observable in the lives of married persons and religious are simply distinctive ways of living the one Christian spirituality ÷ VOLUME 28, 1969 ~ohn Carroll ~ Futrell, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS which must he fully expressed by the whole Church as a community. For instance, an essential element in the one spirit-uality of all Christians is evangelical poverty in its root meaning of an attitude (a beatitudel) of anawim: aware-ness of man's dependence upon God in Christ resulting in single-hearted seeking of God and issuing in acts of peacemaking and of mercy towards others. This attitude must be embodied by all Christians in lives showing forth the two-fold incarnational and eschato-logical Christian love. Living as anawim according to the Beatitudes, all Christians often will discern the call to acts of renunciation of real human values in order to be true to their faith in Christ; and these actions will witness not only to their faith in the risen Christ present in the Church and renewing creation here and now, but also to their eternal hope in Him who is to come in the final fulfillment of the kingdom--their existen-tial acknowledgment of God as the absolute future of man in Christ. The vowed evangelical poverty and chastity and obedience of Christians who are called to the religious life, then, is not the only way to practice or to express the eschatological aspect of Christian love. Neverthe-less, the life of the vows is the only way to manifest this aspect through the signification of an entire life to bear permanent, visible witness to it in the world. Any Christian living out his Christianity authentically .is called upon in many ways to renounce various goods and values in order to take up his cross and follow Jesus. Think of men and women who in order to fulfill their vocation in the sacrament of marriage or as parents or as truly just and loving neighbors to other men are challenged to sacrifice desirable goods and values for the sake of fidelity to Christ in their daily lives. Never-theless, the overall, visible style of li[e of the l~y Christian in its permanent life pattern manifests above all the aspect of Christian love in the Church which is to work in the world in order to transform it in Christ, continuing the incarnation of Christ by building the earth. Although this Christian lay life includes and, when necessary, expresses the eschatological aspect of the Church, it shows forth in its basic dynamism the in-carnational aspect. On the .other hand, a religious in his actual work of serving the Church normally is equally engaged in the ,work of building up Christ in mankind and in the world. He too lives and expresses the incarnational as-pect to the Church. But by the public foregoing of the 'high, positive, human values renounced through his vows, the total meaning of the being-in-the-world of the religious becomes the tangible insertion into this incarnational dynamism of the eschatological aspect which is visibly manifested through the overall, perma-nent pattern of life according to the evangelical coun-sels. To make permanently visible to men this eschato-logical dimension of the Church is the specific meaning of the religious life as a distinctive way of living Christianity. As Karl Rahner has pointed out, that which con-stitutes the unique signification of the vowed evangelical counsels in the religious life is that this is the perma-nent foregoing of high, positive, human values for the sake of a value which cannot be the object of a direct experience, a value which necessarily must be believed in and hoped [or. By their vows religious abandon a possible experience in favor of a value that is now possessed only in faith and hope. That is to say, it is possible for me to have the experience of possessing the results of my work, of having a wife and children, of exercising my own autonomy of choice; but I possess the value of the fulfillment of the kingdom now only in my faith and hope in Christ who is to come. The re-nunciation of the vows is a visible manifestation of permanent and absolute openness to God's future for man in Christ. This renunciation, therefore, is the visible expression and the continual realization of love for God much more in the eschatological dimension of this love than in its terrestrial or incarnational dimen-sion. Even the unbeliever must recognize the meaning of a gesture of faith and hope and love which is the perma-nent renunciation of these positive human, values through the vows. For example, a man in vowing chas-tity "puts his body on the line" until death because of his faith and hope and love of Christ who is to come, and thereby he visibly witnesses in a most striking way to this faith and hope and love. One can believe that this faith and hope and love is absurd, but one cannot deny its depth in the People of God among whom it can call forth such a visible testimony. All Christians, then,--religious and lay--must live both incarnational and eschatological love. But the over-all pattern and significance of the Christian lay vocation is visible witness to the incarnational aspect of the Church, while the overall pattern and significance of the religious life of the vowed evangelical counsels is visible witness to the eschatological aspect. The distinction between lay life and religious life in the Church, therefore, is not to be sought in a difference of the basic Christian vision o~ of the essential Christian spirituality. The distinction is. to be sought, 4. VOLUME 28a 1969 ÷ John Carroll Futrell, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS rather, in the variety of charisms and the different modes of response to the divine initiative. The difference arises from distinctive ways of living the one Christian life, that is, particular ways of responding to and of ex-pressing the love of God through following Christ within a permanent life pattern having a specifically different, total, overall signification than do other particular ways of living Christianity. Whatever might be concluded through theoretical discussions based upon various hier-archical models, there can be no question in the real order of one Christian way of life being "higher" or "better" than another. It is a question rather of a charism, of the divine initiative and authentic response to it which can only be the "best" for the individual person responding to God's call to him. III A community of persons has a history, just as does an individual person. In the history of the community of Christian believers, the Church, there has been from the beginning an evolution of "structured" charisms, dis-cerned by the community as authentic responses to the divine initiative for service of the People of God. These structured charisms have been lived by groups of in-dividuals who have been given these charisms, organiz-ing themselves into institutionalized communities for service of the Church through lives devoted primarily either to prayer, to spiritual or corporal works of mercy, or to apostolic mission. In this way, the religious life developed as a distinctive, institutionalized way of liv-ing Christianity, eventually having its own juridical description in canon law. From the groups congregat-ing around St. Antony in the desert to the official recognition of secular institutes in 1948, this evolution has continued (as it still does) in the response of Chris-tians to divine initiatives within diverse historical and cultural contexts. A Christian who discerns that he has been given the charism of service of the Church in the religious life enters into the institutional structure of this charism by public, vowed commitment to the three evangelical counsels, declared to the whole People of God repre-sented by the one who in the name of the Church re-ceives the vows. By so doing, this Christian establishes himself in a permanent, distinctive life style which has a special and unique force as a sign of one aspect of the one spirituality of the entire Christian commu-nity. His response to the divine initiative is, therefore, his acceptance of the charism of his vocation. The personal experience of Jesus Christ is the basis of all Christian faith. When this experience is char- acterized by certain qualities, the result is that one is simply impelled to give his whole life and all his love to Jesus Christ through living the vowed evangelical counsels. Depending upon certain other characteristics of this personal experience of Jesus Ctirist, one feels simply impelled to consecrate all his life and energy to prayer for the People of God in the contemplative life or to their active service and to helping other persons to share this faith experience of Jesus Christ through apostolic mission. This Christian's whole life as a re-ligious is grounded in this faith experience; and it depends for its growth and depth and permanence upon the growth and depth and permanence of his personal relationship to Jesus Christ in love. The original charism must come to its complete fulfillment. The individual choice to live the religious life in one specific religious community rather than another is the result of the judgment that one's own response to the divine initiative discerned in the charism of his vocation can be best embodied in this specific community voca-tion. He discovers his personal identity as a Christian person precisely in the community identity of this re-ligious order or congregation. The community identity of a given religious congre-gation is rooted in the original inspiration of the founder(s), the basic vision of a particular way of follow-ing Christ, which underlies all the different techniques devised to try to live out this vision within different historical and cultural contexts. Where, as in many apostolic congregations, the basic vision of various com-mumtles as similar or even identical, the specific differ-ence of these congregations arises from their particular approach to service or mission and from the history of each congregation in living out the basic vision. The history of an institution progressively charac-terizes this institution in its identity, just as the personal history of a man characterizes his identity. A man of forty carries with him the accumulated characteristics oflhis own personal evolution. His face and body and psychology are marked by specific traits by which he identifies himself to himself and by which other people identify him. This is equally true of different religious congregations. That which is essential today, then, in order to ac-complish authentic renewal of religious congregations is to truly discover the original inspiration of the founder, the basic vision, the radical intention neces-sarily expressed by the founder in the language (images, symbols, gestures, practices, ways of action) of his own historical and cultural context. 0nly when this basic vision is clear is it possible to discern how to express it ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li~e VOLUME 28~ 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ John Carroll Futrell, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS authentically in the new language imposed upon us by the signs of our times: to preserve spiritual con-tinuity across cultural discontinuity. Furthermore, since there is no infallible guarantee of the permanent worth of this basic vision, and since charisms can be given for time-conditioned service of the People of God, it must be discerned whether or not the basic vision and, so, the existence of a given religious congregation is still valid and valuable in the ongoing life of the Church. When it is discerned that a religious congregation can still make a real contribution to the life and mission of the Church, then courageous and loyal adaptation of life style must be undertaken in order to renew the true embodiment of the basic vision of this community here and now. Whatever means are discerned to be authentic and effective for this end, these will have to be structured into the life of the community. The com-munity is made up of individual body-persons who find their own personal identity in the community identity. Their mutual union in this community of persons is grounded in this profound identification of life meaning which they share with one another. Unless this profound union is embodied in some really ex-perienced way in common worship, common ways of living, common service of the Church, it is inevitable that it will float off into the realm of pure abstract theory, an ideal existing only as a dream. During a time of dramatic cultural change such as we are now experiencing, it is clear that there must be much experimentation with community structures, al-ways discerned according to the criterion of the re-newed basic vision of the community. Indeed, at present the indications are that much pluralism must be al-lowed. But especially during a time of pluralistic ex-periments, ways must be found to embody the total unity of the entire community sufficiently and frequently enough to keep it real. This is absolutely imposed upon us because we are body-persons, a fact too often forgotten with disastrous results. The fundamental problem posed by the necessity of embodying community unity through some form of structures is the continual need to carry on the dialectic of the individual good and the common good, personal initiative and aspirations and community ideals and commitments. The aim should be to effect a synthesis of these personal and community elements as often as possible through true mutual discernment. But when such a synthesis proves impossible, after this discern-ment, it is the universal good of the community which must be given priority in making decisions, precisely because the personal identity of each individual member is found in the community identity. In any community, even that of two persons in marriage, there is a new reality larger than each individual 'T': it is the reality of "we." The final word must always be given to this Because of the depth of their union grounded in common personal identity, the persons belonging to a religious community have a unique foundation for true, warm, human mutual love. This love must be experi-enced and embodied in aII the ways that go to establish and develop human interpersonal relationships and to confronting difficulties of temperament, disagreement, misunderstanding, and so forth. Since this union is the result of divinely given charisms, every effort must be made to share the basic faith experience of Jesus Christ which is the source of the communion of persons in this religious community. Because the individual experience itself is not verbal but lived, this sharing must be chiefly on the level of non-verbal communication. Here communitarian prayer can be very effective. Listening to another praying to God, even in language that I myself couhl not use, is a most effective way to come to the recognition that he shares the same faith experience of Jesus Christ, the same charism, the same response of life commitment, as do I. If the members of a religious community do share the basic faith experience of Jesus Christ which grounds their unity and their life together, then they will be enabled to grow in true human love for one another. Where there is profound union and an atmosphere of mutual love, it is possible to disagree (even violently) about means to ends without becoming polarized and, finally, disunited and destroyed as a community. Dif-ferences will be seen for what they are: differences of language and symbols which are conditioned by cultural contexts and, so, are completely relative, deriving their value only from their effectiveness in embodying the basic vision which remains the ground of union. Where deep union and mutual love are present, it will be recognized that persons in the community in responding to community-discerned adaptations are not to be condemned if they find it difficult to adjust to what for them is a new and foreign language to express their personal identity issuing from their personal faith experience of Jesus Christ. This is a matter of the dif-ficulty of changing ways of structuring and of expressing experience which have been built up over a lifetime, rather than a matter of a negative attitude to renewal and adaptation. The only attitude that one must change (whether he be "traditionally" or "progressively" oriented) is that 4. Religious Li~e VOLUME 28~ 1969 4" 4" ÷ John Carroll Futrell, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS o[ fixation: confusing language with experience and means with ends and insisting that unless things are done my way, they cannot be authentically Christian. This is equivalent to saying: "If you speak French in-stead of American English, you cannot be expressing truly human thoughts and feelings." Redemption from fixation--and from polarization--will be achieved through sharing the faith experience of Jesus Christ and only thereafter attempting to find a language to express this experience. These reflections have led to the conclusion that the religious has his personal identity through his response to a particular divine initiative, his acceptance of a special charism discerned in the characteristics of his personal faith experience of Jesus Christ. The religious embodies his response to this charism by vowing himself to the life of the evangelical counsels in a specific re-ligious community. This means that he commits him-self to witness visibly by the total signification of his overall pattern of life to the eschatological aspect of Christian love lived in the Church. Within the community of Christians, all of whom ~hare one Christian spirituality, the distinctive role of the religious is permanently to manifest the faith and hope of the entire People of God in Christ who is to COmae. The religious' life of union with his companions in his own religious community is a life of mutual love grounded in the community identity of shared faith experience of Christ, which is expressed in the basic vision of this community's service of Christ in His Church, and which is embodied in community struc-tures adapted to the signs of the times through authentic discernment. The way towards a solution of the difficult problems being experienced by religious today, therefore, would seem above all to be the way of a universal renewal in all religious of their profound, personal faith experi-ence of Jesus Christ and a renewal of their mutual union and mutual love through mutually sharing this experience. It is through union with Jesus Christ that we shall achieve communion with one another. EDWARD G. BOZZO, C.F.X. Being-toward- Community:. Essence oJ Religious Life As the over-delayed Instruction (dated Jan. 6, 1969) from the Congregation of Religious concedes, the forma-tion of young religious is a topic of deep concern today. Leaving to others the full assessment of that ,uneven document which, in my view, hovers indecisively between old and new theologies, between an essentially juridical conception of religious life and some attempt to touch its theological pith, what I would urge is that religious life is dominantly about community and that this must be sustained as the master idea in considering every phase of its renewal. Though this is a simplification un-less qualified as I hope to do further on in this article, it is at present the hermeneutical wedge needed to cut through the complexities renewal involves. If, I submit, in the light of the recent Instruction, religious congrega-tions attempt to grapple with formation as a problem apart from the religious life as centrally concerned with creating and maintaining community, their adaptations of formation programs will be misfocused or foundering. As is evident from my intentional use of first person references, I present a personal (though I hope not un-substantiated) point of view as forcefully as I can. In doing so I make no claim to infallibility but hope that in presenting a position as vigorously as possible that I might at the very least provide the reader with a means of clarifying his own notions of the religious life, even if it be by disagreeing with those presented here. Though my topic is the general import of the idea that religious life is essentially the sustained effort toward community, let me begin by briefly stating the connection between this thesis and the specific question of the forma-tion of young religious. And let me begin this brief Edward Bozzo, C.F.X., is a mem-ber of Xaverian College; I0000 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Springs, Md. 2090~1. VOLUME 28, 1969 + 4. Edward G. Bozzo, C.F.X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS treatment from the juridical aspect of the religious life --a perhaps more familiar starting point to middle-aged religious--that irrelevant species of which I am a member. Two other prenotes: I write as a member of what is usually called an active religious congregation and I beg pardon of any sister who might read this for main-taining masculine references throughout. Men become religious, in the technical sense, by pro-nouncing vows to God through His visible Church. These vows are called public in a technical sense, namely, that the Church so designates and recognizes them as con-stituting a person in the religious state. To describe how these spare juridical facts occur in actual life, how-ever, it would have to be added that a person becomes a religious by joining a specific religious institute approved by the Church. This datum is [taught with significance. Among other things, it means that one's chief source of awareness of what being a religious means comes ~rom the particular religious with whom he lives. One's idea of what the practice of the vows means, of the style of life to which they give rise, one's idea of life in common and dedicated service to others--all of these one learns from the religious with whom one lives. (;anon law and the institute's constitutions, no matter how well expressed, capture these realities only partially and in bare out-line. I Both are theoretical instruments which subserve the experience of religious life which latter holds the primacy, not vice versa.2 Since one's self-definition as a religious, for one's whole life as a religious, has its source in the lives of the reli-gious with whom one lives, it follows that our life in 1 See Friedrich Wulf, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," in Commentary on the Documents o[ Vatican II, v. 2, ed. Herbert Vorgrimler (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968), p. 303, where Wulf notes that it will take religious congrega-tions a long time to overcome the narrowness which has plagued the official ecclesiastical concept of the religious life, especially since the 19th century. See also pp. 338, 340, and 362. ~ In philosophical terms, though we always need theory, it is ex-perience, the practical, which holds the primacy. Theory derives from practice and serves practice. To reverse this order is to create a host of difficulties in daily life. See John Macmurray, The Sel[ as .4gent (London: Faber and Faber, 1957), pp. 17ft. As regards religious life, it is necessary to recall not only that theory derives from experience and helps to interpret experience, but also that the theoretical apparatus has been overjuridical in its emphasis. Hence, even though theory is subservient to experience, now as never before, religious life requires work on its theoretical base. As Wulf remarks in commenting on chapters five and six of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church: "The theology of the reli-gious state is only in the making," Commentary on the Documents o] Vatican //, v. 1, ed. Herbert Vorgrimler (New York: Herder and Herder, 1967), p. 278. See Wulf in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. $43: "Religious life today, that of active orders in particular, is becoming less and less amenable to detailed regulation." common is and ever remains the formative influence in our lives. Religious life does not escape the law of our lives as persons: we need one another to be ourselves,s Indeed, religious life aims to express this with a force un-paralleled by other styles of life.4 Whether or not they really believe it, at least many religious are now saying that religious formation never ends. The principal reason why it does not is that we ever depend on our fellow religious for discovering the implications of our lives as persons dedicated to God.5 The practical consequence of these facts for our con-gregations is that each one of us, whether he acknowl-edges the fact or prefers to dwell in illusion, plays a form-ative role. He cannot shirk this fact, nor the obligation arising from it by pretending that it is the novice master's job or the task of a group or team more particularly associated with young religious. For all of us formation is continual so long as we lead lives of mutual interde-pendence-- a phrase which describes our very condition as persons, and therefore our lives as religious as well. Under either head, life in common is essential. From the point of view of formation, personal and religious, our lives of mutual interdependence constitute our chief source of strength and progress, as well as the source of our obligation to live for our fellows. It scarcely needs mentioning that this mode of dis-course is currently employed to talk of Christian life in general and that there is nothing particularly distinctive about it so as to mark off religious as a spedal class,o That 8 See John Macmurray, Persons in Relation (London: Faber and Faber, 1961), p. 211. ' "The theological and spiritual new mentality which the council introduced into the religious orders has forced us to pose anew the question about the structures of religious life. To begin with we must mention the fundamental law which was present at the founding of every religious order, and which has moved into the forefront of Christian thought today in a specially urgent manner: the law of brotherliness" (Wulf in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. 330). ~ Obviously this does not preclude a religious learning from those not members of the religious fraternity. See Wulf in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. 339: "Common prayer, spiritual conversation among brethren and sisters--things which in fact make them brethren and sisters-- alone cause all of their efforts to bear fruit. The place where spiritual renewal happens is in the small group. The more a com-munity fosters these small groups, the greater the hope that the work of the general chapter will go beyond mere words and regula-tions, and reach out into real life." e Commenting on Chapter 5 of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Wulf, in Vorgrimler, v. 1, pp, 267-8, writes: "We are all set a single goal, one and the same Christian holiness (the degree of which., can and does vary according, to the vocation and the measure of grace allotted to each man). Ultimately, there-fore, there is only one kind of Christian life, and its nature is briefly sketched for us here: (1) The inward road that leads a Christian to his salvation (and often the outward road as well) + + .I-Being- toward. Community VOLUME 28, 1969 + ÷ ÷ Edward G. Bozzo, C.F.X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should not be surprising, since the religious life is not .a. privileged class existence, but the Christian life lived with utter seriousness. It has been the custom to define religious life in terms of Christian life. Hence, when individualistic notions of Christian life prevailed, reli-gious life--Christian calling lived intensely--was defined in individualistic patterns. When the dominant con-ception of Christian life was saving one's soul, the concomitant conception of religious life was a perfec-tion that made little of the social dimension of personal and Christian progress.7 Thanks to a host of long germinating movements in the field of theology itself (Biblical studies, for example) and in the world of thought more generally (most signifi-cantly in philosophy), individualism is seen now as an unrealistic way of conceptualizing personal existence,s As persons we do not possess any fullness of ourselves alone. We do not store up richness of interiority on our own and then issue forth to bestow our largesse upon others if and when we feel magnanimous enough to do depends at the deepest level on the guidance of the Holy Ghost and the promptings of his grace. (2) At every turn, therefore, in every situation he encounters, the Christiau must listen for the voice of the Spirit making known God's will for him., and obey it. This obedience is what the gospel calls adoring the Father in spirit and in truth (cf. Jn 4:23), and it means utter openness to God and utter docility to him. (3) Within the framework of the Christian dis-pensation taking this road means following the poor and humble Christ as he carries the Cross. (4) On this road the main business of the Christian is a living faith that stirs up hope and acts through love. At a time when every state of life and every community in the Church is trying to expound its own particular spirituality (and often ineptly), it is well for this Constitution to remind us of the one fundamental Christian spirituality of Scripture and tradition." Further: "What they all have in common is this: that Christian sanctification is not a road running parallel to the road of one's ordiuary life and work, but is a thing achieved in and through one's state of life with its daily tasks, in and through the concrete circumstances and events of one's existence." ~See Wulf in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. 347, n. 11 especially. As Rahner writes: "This sense of being responsible for my brother, not only for his earthly needs but precisely for his eternal salvation, may be nothing short of decisive for my own eternal salvation. This is not sublime egoism. The realization that unless one loves selflessly one is risking one's own salvatiou does not imply some higher form of egoism. It is the scale by which I can measure how absolutely necessary is concern for my brother's salvation. The possibility that he has of working out his salvation without me means that he owes me nothing. But I can find myself only if I find my brother. The whole of life has got to be a forward movement towards loving my brother. I must love my brother, and in that love forget myself. If I do that, I am an apostle. If I do not do it, I am ultimately lost" (Karl Rahner, Christian in the Market Place [New York: Sheed and Ward, 1966], pp. 13-4). ~ See William F. Lynch, Images o] Hope (New York: New Ameri-can Library, 1966), p. 185. so.0 Hard as it may be for men, especially Americans, to swallow it, no one in his existence as a person exists in-dependently of other persons.10 The terminus a quo of personal life is a complete dependence on a personal other and the terminus acl quem is not rugged individ-ualism but interdependence with others.11 Personal exis-tence is and ever remains conditional upon mutuality with other persons. Failure to live according to this basic norm of our being is, in William F. Lynch's view, one of the root causes of mental illness. In religious terms it is Pelagianism. As Biblical studies have made apparent with ever increasing emphasis and as the recent conciliar documents attest, God calls us as He did Israel, as a people; He saves us as a people; .we worship Him as a people. In short, Christianity is fraternal faith, demon-strated in fraternal concern for others, Christians or not, for Christian faith is a progressive assimilation to the Father's only Son who is universal in His concern--in His life, His death and His eternal priestly intercession in behalf of all men.12 In yielding to the Spirit, in allowing Him to consume our selfishness, we are made Jesus all over againJ~ In him all walls of separation from our fel-lows crumble (see Gal 2:llff). With the growing appreciation that Christian life is a OAs Kwant writes: "We are intentional beings and not centered on ourselves. We achieve a meaningful existence through the reali-zation of values. The situation is not such that we find first in ourselves, in our so-called interiority, the fullness of meaning and value and that, next, our giving of meaning in the world and in encounters with other human beings are an effusion of our interior fullness. Divorced from the world and from the others, there is only emptiness in ourselves" (Remy Kwant, Phenomenology o] Social Existence [Pittsburgh: Duquesne University, 1965], p. 239). ~°See Lynch, lmages, pp. 19-20 and 31. n See John Macmurray, Persons in Relation, p. 66. = "The first characteristic of faith today I should like to stress can be summed up in one word: brotherly . Faith both presup-poses the community and creates it; the courage to believe is always born of a pentecostal event, where many are gathered together in unity of purpose. Faith is our confidence in the personal experience of others, a conviction gained through the power of the Spirit which is at work in others, our personal experience of the Spirit given to us for the sake of others, This permanent characteristic of faith., should be one of the most notable characteristics of the form of faith today. It cannot be sufficiently stressed, however, that this brotherly love is not directed towards an abstract but toward our actual brother here and now, our 'neighbor' " (Karl Rahner, Belie] Today [New York: Sheed and Ward, 1967], pp. 54-5). as See Barnabas Ahern, New Horizons (Notre Dame: Fides Dome Book, 1965), p. 94 and passim; Piet Fransen, "Towards a Psychology of Divine Grace," Cross Currents, v. 8 (1958), p. 219; Franqois ¯ Roustang, Growth in the Spirit (New York: Sheed ~ Ward, 1966), p. 21; and Amed~e Hallier, "God is Friendship: the Key to Aelred of Rievaulx's Christian Humanism," American Benedictine Reoiew, v. 18 (1967), p. 403. 4- 4. 4- Being-toward- Community VOLUME 28, 1969 723 ÷ + Edward G. Bozzo, C.F~X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS call to brotherly faith, brotherly existence and care, there is a concommitant realization that religious life as the radical living of Christian life is predominantly brotherly existence. Insofar as religious life manifests this, its fundamental nature, it renders its primary serv-ice to both Church and world. This conception of the nature and function of religious life holds implications of highly practical import. The following paragraphs aim to explore some of them by attending primarily to the intramural living of religious life. As stated previously in touching on "formation," all religious must appreciate that each of them is involved in striving toward community. Recognizing this, one practical suggestion that has been proffered with increas-ing insistence is that religious cannot attain this by living in large groups in Mussolini-modern buildings.14 With-out disputing this recommendation, I submit that the import of religious life as fraternal existence in Christ lies deeper than the intimacy to be attained by living in smaller groups in cosier houses. Keeping the communal nature of reigious life to the fore means realizing that no religious can achieve "his perfection," his union with Christ, by an idealistic leap up to God which would ignore his concrete relations to his fellow religious. Each of us approaches God only by living for his particular brethren at hand, centering his interest in them and not in himself. To live this is to live in Christ; more specifi-cally, it is to live Christ's kenosis. Capsulizing St. Paul's view of Christian life again, one may see it as a progres-sive yielding to the Holy Spirit who transforms us into the image of the Father's only Son. And this Son is one who lives His whole existence towards the Father through a self-forgetful concern for all men. In sum, the Christ in whom we live, move, and are, the Christ into whom we are transformed through the Holy Spirit's action in us, is a self-emptying Christ, not a self-regarding Person.1'~ Selfishness in this perspective is not just per-sonal immaturity, it is--far more significantly--a resis-tance to grace, a refusal to let the Spirit take over in us so that the Christs we are meant to be cannot take form in our lives. The poverty, chastity, and obedience of the religious find their deepest meaning in this kenotic yielding to the 1~ In commenting on Vatican II's decree on religious, for example, Wulf (in Vorgrimler, v. 2, p. 330) writes: 'The responsible and effec-tive participation in the common good and in the common task in the spirit of brotherhood can no longer be realized in large communities, for by his psychical constitution, modern man feels lost and threatened in the mass, so that the ideals just mentioned can only be realized in communities of manageable size." 1~ See Piet Schoonenberg, "He Emptied Himself, Philippians 2, 7," in Who Is Jesus oI Nazareth? (New York: Paulist, 1965), pp. 47-66. Spirit, manifested inour heterocentricity toward others. These two cannot be separated, for a relationship to Christ, or to God in Christ, which is not a relationship to one's brothers, is no Christianity at all. The more earnestly a religious strives to live the Christian life, that is, to live as man sanctified by God, the more he becomes aware of his own poverty his impotence, weakness, and guilt and the more he realizes the totality of the de-pendence in which he lives from God and unto God-- the essence of what he professes in the vow of poverty. The more a religious strives to live as the force of God's agape in him would have him live, that is, the more uni-versal his love toward others becomes both in its scope and quality the more his chastity comes to expression. For then he loves as God loves, caring for others hon-estly, 16 with no eye to using them for his advantage but with a creative love that aims to set others free of the myriad forms of slavery which keep them from the liberty to which they are called. This honesty in love-- loving others as the Father loves, with no eye to private gain is the essence of religious chastity. The more the religious yields to God's beckonings to him, the more he follows the particularities of God's petitioning of him through others---even to the point of yielding his life for them, the more the relig!ous lives obedience to the Father. The depth of asceticism that is required to live this style of Christian existence, the depth of personal prayer required to maintain and nourish this kenotic orienta-tion needs no commentary. It involves many dyings be-fore death, surrendering the comfortable illusion that each of us is a special case, that life and other people should make exceptions in our regard. It means living Christ's life of service and in so doing becoming a vehicle through which the glory of the risen Christ is manifested. As Ratzinger writes: "A true parousia of Christ takes place wherever a man recognizes and affirms the claim on his love that goes out from a fellow man in need." lz Much more could and should be ex- 1BChastity is emotional sincerity. See John Macmurray, "The Virtue of Chastity," in Reason and Emotion (London: Faber and Faber, 1962), pp. l17ff. x7 Joseph Ratzinger, The Open Circle: The Meaning o] Christian Brotherhood (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1966), p. 119. The glory of the Father is the brotherhood of all men in his Son Jesus Christ. Our life as a community and as individuals, serving one another and others, must make the name of the Father known, manifest His glory by seeking the brotherhood of all men in Christ Jesus. But the source of this, it cannot be sufficiently emphasized, is God's love for us---this is what makes us persons fundamentally. What we have to give is God's love (see the Epistle to the Philippians). At this profound level the operative law is: All receptivity is produc-tivity, as SOren Kierkegaard notes in SOren Kierkegaard's Journals + + + Being.toward- Commu~nity VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ 4. ÷ Edward G. Bo~o, C.F~X. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS plored regarding the linkage between religious life and kenotic Christology as this constitutes a promising vein for elaborating a theology of the religious life. However, the few hints offered will have to suffice for the moment, so as to attend to other implications of conceiving reli-gious life as a process of being toward community. One of these is that religious life as brotherly existence does not mean that the uniqueness of each religious is abolished. Quite the contrary. As Teilhard de Chardin was fond of phrasing it, true union differentiates,is That is, when we put into act by living communion with others the mutuality which makes us persons, each of us comes to himself. Each attains, at least in some measure, his freedom. The fundamental reason for this is that in friendship, fellowship, fear is eliminated or overcome by love. None of the parties in the fellowship has to pretend, act a part, be on his guard. For this to become a fact in a religious community all must share the intention to live as brothers. All must overcome fear of each other with trust. For fear paralyzes and separates us. Since fear is always fear for oneself in the face of others, it closes us in on ourselves, drives us away from exercising our constitutively mutual relationship to them. Fearful of others, I might seek for God, for free-dom, or more simply, for some sense of contentment not in my relations to others but solely in the life of the mind and imagination--solely in a private spirituality. Others might deal with their fear of their fellow by dominating them, using them as means to their purpose-- even if that purpose be "spiritual" it demeans the persons so manipulated. For fellowship, community, to become an actuality each must be positively motivated toward all his brothers. Consequently it cannot happen if a religious seeks friend-ship with only one or two other members alone, and when each of the parties in this relationship or clique is negatively motived toward all the other members. The trust of each member of the community, his faith in them, must extend toward all of them. Only so can true brotherhood become fact. To the extent that it does, each member can, for example, express his ideas without fear that what he says will be used against him. By the very nature of brotherhood, variety issues naturally-- from the assurance of feeling at home in one's reli-gious family. One does not have to strive after artifical techniques to assert his individuality. He is accepted and and Papers, v. 1, ed. Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong (Indiana University, 1967), p. 395. ~See Robert L. Faricy, Teilhard de Chardin's Theology o[ the Christian in the World (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1967), pp. does not need to contrive test cases to discover if he is or not. More significantly, in the context of realized brother-hood ideas do not divide us. I know that even if you do not agree with my position on this or that issue that you will not cut me off--excommunicate me from your con-cern. And you have the same assurance from me. When each member of the community feels secure in this confidence our differences, whether in the realm of ideas or otherwise, are a potential source of enrichment for all of us. We are free to work out fruitful constructive forms of compromise to further corporate action. Every dif-ference between us does not become a wall of separation dividing brother from brother, camp from camp. Such division is our damnation. The future is in our hands only so long as we live as brothers. We cannot achieve any good as a congregation, or as a small community within it, if we do not share the same intention in our apostolic action. Just as we are mutually interdependent as persons, we are inter-dependent as agents. If as agents our intentions do not harmonize, the action of each of .us is frustrated. The future then becomes something that happens to us, some-thing which we await, rather than a reality which we as agents are empowered to determine and can determine when our intentions harmonize and agree with God's intention--that we as religious be one and through our work (directly or indirectly) work for the realization of brotherhood among all men. In this light religious life can be appreciated as the concrete expression of what the Church is. It is the fra-ternity of God's people, His family which lives a broth-erly existence under Him and by so living is the instru-ment for expressing and extending brotherhood among all mankind. The creative energy for realizing this broth-erhood is the agape of the Father Himself operating through the common humanity which each of us shares with every other person.10 The task of the Church today is what it always has been--to cooperate with God under the guidance of the Spirit of Christ in establishing the kingdom of God. The means for establishing this king-dom, for accomplishing this task is the means that Jesus taught His first Disdples. The Church must be a real community on earth which exhibits to the world, in its life and in the relations of its members, the image of the kingdom of heaven, and which acts, in relation to the world outside, in the brotherly spirit of that king-dom. Never has the Church needed religious life to mani-fest this, its nature at its truest, as now. And never have 4. 4. Being-toward- Community 1, See Yves Congar, .4 Gospel Priesthood (New York: Herder aVnOdLUME 28, 1969 Herder, 1967), p. 5, on the Father's love as the source of all mission. 727 men so expressly proclaimed in myriad ways, their thirst for brotherhood. If religious life would only come to itself it could spearhead the realization of brotherhood--- the consummation of personal existence now so devoutly wished. It depends on so little and so big a condition as this: that each of us in his religious family treat each of the others as a friend. 4. 4- 4- Edward G. Bo~,o, REVIEW FOR RELIGIous 728 HRBAN NAAL, S.M. The Community of Today Walls are built either to keep people in or to keep people out. Whether these walls are built of stone, brick, or concrete or whether they are built of weaker material, the object is to keep someone or something in or to keep someone or something out, physically. There are also pyschological walls built for the same purpose, though not always built intentionally. In the Middle Ages cities had walls. Most of these walls are in ruins today or have disappeared as the cities expanded beyond them. In fact, expansion could take place only when the people went beyond the walls. It seemed that as man neared modern times the walls crumbled, "freeing" the community to expand in all directions. It would seem that one could almost say that the walls had to come down if expansion were to take place, for the walls that kept out also kept in. Any com-munity that held rigidly to its walls would of necessity suffocate. Growth took place as the walls came down aIIowing for greater activity, travel, business, communica-tion, work, education. Modern communities no longer have walls. They are neither needed nor desired. Yet, there seems to exist today in the modem world communities whose walls have remained intact since the Middle Ages and who seem rigidly to resist any attempt to break down those walls, whether physical or psycho-logical. The citizens seem determined to hold onto those walls, nor can they visualize that real progress can take place only if they break down these separating walls, walls that are keeping them in and keeping others out. The communities referred to are religious communities and the walls that they will not demolish are not those made of stone, brick, concrete, or even weaker materials but those psychological walls existing in their interpre-tation of what a community is and must remain. Com-munity for these religious is a "living" together and by 4- 4- 4- Brother Urban Naal, S.M., teaches at Vianney High School; 1311 South Kirkwood Road; St. Louis, Mo. 63122, VOLUME 28, 1969 ~9 Urban Naal, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS this they mean a living together in one place at one time by all the members assigned to a particular community or house. What is actually stressed is the physical sharing of one house though they do not seem to realize this. As the modern community cannot be limited by walls that suffocate, so the modern religious community must be ~eed from the walls that bind it. This can only be done through a reinterpretation of what a religious commu-nity is and a realization that a modern community must be a psychological sharing and not a physical sharing alone. To constantly insist upon a physical sharing, a doing everything together, to keep repairing walls that need to crumble, succeeds eventually in suffocating the very members who have retained the walls. Growth can-not take place until the walls are removed. The modern religious community must be bound to-gether by a spirit and not by the physical presence of the walls of a house. The witness o[ such a community must consist in a harmonious interest in the diverse works of each of the members and not in the force shown by a group of people living together under one roof. The community witness must be a living together of diverse ideas and cultures and values. The individual religious, bound by public vows of religion, must be free to leave the walls of the commu-nity for greater activity, travel, business, communica-tion, work, education, and the needs of society at large. He is living in the modern world, not the Middle Ages. He must be trained to think as an individual and not as a group. This is not to say that there are no dangers in taking protective walls down, especially for those who first cautiously venture forth. (Nor is it to try to claim that walls of themselves preclude all danger.) There is danger for the young who need walls to inclose them until they are old enough to venture forth on their own. There is danger for the member of the community who has never been given the chance to go it alone and Who psycho-logically needs walls to shield him. There is danger for the immature in the community who do not have the strength nor security to leave the womb. There. is danger, too, once the walls are down that undersirable persons or ideas might creep in. Yet, to grow in the modern world the member of the community must learn to live with these dangers, to grow because of them. No one can avoid all danger. In fact, it is through these dangers that growth takes place. In learning to deal with danger man matures. It is a fallacy to feel that walls make it possible to create an artificial situation in which all members by a certain age or a certain stage of life become model religious, fitting perfectly into some kind of foreseen mold. Nor can this denial of the individuality of man be called Christian, no matter how much it appears to be the basis of the religious community. The members of a religious community must be trained to use the God-given talents they possess and to grow as individuals according as God made them. Guidelines are not outlawed, but charity must consist in accepting each member for .what he is and for how God made him rather than to how closeIy he matches someone's personal rule of perfection. If the religious community prepared thinking individ-uals using the brains God gave them to use, there would be no need of wails for physically mature persons, no reason to fear the wails coming down. The community of living together under one roof tends to stifle initia-tive and creativity. It forces the members to aim at a common--and often lowest--denominator, regulating the lives of the members according to some precon-ceived general norm resulting in the members actually dedicating themselves to mediocrity rather than to the highest potential of which they are capable. It does not permit each person to grow at his own rate nor to be-lieve according to what he is able to "see" at present. The religious community in the twentieth century must be an outgrowth of the Middle Ages. It must progress with the times and be as efficient as the dines permit. The religious, to be true religious and apostles, must go out beyond the wails to where they are needed, to where the action is. Artificial action and needs cannot be set up within the walls or close-by. The modern religious must carry his community in spirit wherever he goes, wherever he is needed. He must be trained and trusted to carry this community with him, rather than be crippled by forever being tied to a particular house often far from the needs of the world. He must often go alone into the field (be it education, communication, business) to bear witness and to work, even though it be far from an established community of his order. He might even become the center of a new-type of "community" of those working around him. This does not mean that there is no need for the com-munity in the traditional sense of the word. It definitely has a place. It is the walled city or quiet womb in which the religious needs to reside while being formed. It is the "dock" to which the weary working religious needs to return periodically for nourishment and light and the moral support of his fellow religious which is so important to one working alone in the field of battle. The individual religious could not continue to work + + ommunity VOLUME 28, 1969 without these periodic retreats to that haven from whence he came. There is need, too, of the traditional community for those who do not feel that they can or want to leave it. Yet, the modern religious, a religious in the true sense, must be free to go beyond the walls that presently hem him in and thwart his apostolate. To force community members to live closely together under the same roof under the guise that the four walls constitute a commu-nity is to miss the point completely and to miss the modern apostolate completely. The real community is a spiritual thing, a love of and an acceptance of one's fellow religious wherever they are. It is not confined to those living within the four walls of a particular com-munity. Nor is it created by the mere presence of four walls. The normal family with grown members no longer reside within the same four walls; and yet no matter how far they are scattered they exhibit an in-tense loyalty to the members of the family from which they came because of their love and acceptance of one another, not because they happened to at one time reside within the same four walls (which have now crumbled). The modern religious community if it is to succeed must go beyond the walls that they have erected less they awake one day to find that life has pass them by. Let not today's religious communities be the ghost towns of tomorrow. ÷ ÷ ÷ Urban Nail, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS GEORGE C. McCAULEY, S.J. The Toll and Why We Pay h: A Theological Image of Religious Life Religious are always surprised and annoyed by the basic ignorance, even in the Catholic community, of the distinction between priesthood and the religious life, between orders and vows. In the new Church people ask brothers, nuns, and religious priests: "Are they going to allow you to marry?" It becomes easier to live with such ignorance when finally we discover that it is based on a lack of any real interest. But today the question: "What is a religious?" is being posed earnestly and painfully not by others but by many religious themselves. Prophets of doom count the days for religious orders and congregations, and they offer statistics in support of their baleful prognoses. With many religious leaving and fewer entering the re-ligious life, religious are anxious for a self-understanding that will help them navigate through some of the con-temporary uncertainty. A perfectly satisfying self-under-standing is rarely forthcoming in life. We are more in need of a creative and humanly intelligible hypothesis against which we can test our Christian and religious experience. It is the task of theology to set forth such an hypothesis. To that end we will attempt first to describe more thoroughly the religious' contemporary plight, and then to isolate the human (therefore intelligible) form of the religious' commitment, its various motivations, and the content of that commitment or the directions in which the religious life has always and will always take those who embrace that life. The Toll The religious gradually becomes an out~ider to the cultural milieu in which he lives. True, it is hard to iso-÷ ÷ i÷ George C. Mc- Cauley, S.J., is a member of the the-ology faculty of St. Peter's College in Jersey City, New Jersey 07306. VOEUME 28, 1969 4- 4- 4- George C. McCauley, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 734 late a cultural milieu which affects all people in exactly the same way. It is also possible that many religious are more in touch than many non-religious with what-ever cultural milieu is available. We will develop the thesis, however, that the more in touch the religious is, the greater the toll will be that he will pay. If we ac-cept as a working definition of cultural milieu as the main network of achievements, activities, and values that emerge from the physical and spiritual resources of men, then it is clear that the religious gradually becomes unstuck from this network. The reason for this is that most men are usually attached to this network at various points, while the religious fits the cultural pattern only sketchily. The cultural pattern involves at least the triad of job, marriage, and family. The economic, political, and recreational systems of men are geared to and de-pendent .upon man's wishes in those three areas. The communications media feed, and feed upon, the needs that are contained in those three aspects of life. Assiduous-ness, success, planning, ingenuity, failure, social useful-ness, ambition, acceptability, and normality are in a thousand subtle ways measured against the standard inherent in the triad of job, marriage, and family. The religious recedes from this standard, and this gradual recession takes its toll on his'cultural sensibilities. His routine activities have little to do with the cultural standard: his clothing is both singular and culturally meaningless. His language is dissonant: fun, life, enter-tainment, pleasure, anxiety, responsibility, relaxation-- these words have a different ring for him than for other men. His normal working hours are accompanied by different expectations, and hence he misses the rhythms which usually mark the beginning and end of a man's work. He is disassociated from the immense cultural ritual of finding and keeping a mate. His energies are not spent on the intricate process of nesting, of providing and securing goods for a family. He does not shop, keep financial records, save, angle, sweat, or celebrate with the same sentiments or relish that other men have. The point of all this is not simply that the religious does not do what most men do. It is rather to suggest that he gradually foregoes sensibility in these areas. Sen-sibility is itself a difficult term to define. The religious need not become insensitive to the cultural life around him. He knows that men around him are engaged might-ily in their own routines, and he senses these routines in others. But he notes their absence in himself. He can-not perceive them within his whole emotional, self-aware-ness apparatus. The toll that he pays is this sense of void in himself in comparison with the cultural mass which surrounds him and which, by its sheer weight, seems to pressure him to be like it. This realization should not lead the religious to exag-gerate his predicament. Every vocation has its toll and everyone could recount the frustrations and limitations implied in his life choices. What is important is that the religious understand the scope and dimensions of the toll that he will in all likelihood pay. He must situate himself as honestly as possible in terms of his actual cultural coordinates which in his case are not normal ones. Then he must ask himself if he understands why he takes, in faith, such a peculiar stance vis-a-vis his culture. Not that he should so call his faith into question that it ceases to exist. This unimaginative and simplistic solution removes the problem by denying its existence and we can only get so far in life with this gambit. On the other hand religious communities must have a con-sensus of self-understanding against which they can judge themselves and the times. The stresses and strains of living as marginal men in a vast cultural network tend to prove too much for everyone's individual nerves. Only a community's conviction, its faith elaborated in intelli-gible and affirmative terms, can sustain the religious life today. The religious is not helped by being told his life is more than human. He suspects mightily that what people mean by this comes down in the long run to being less than human. Hence he asks for an understanding of his vows in terms of their true humanity. Reasons and an Image The religious is pressed to say why he does what he does. Up to a point he can answer that Christ's example is what motivates him. But the limitations of this ex-planation of the religious life are apparent. For one thing, we are not Christ. For another, the Scriptural references to "imitating Christ" (1 Th 1:6; 1 Cot 4:16) apply to all Christians, not to one class or group of Christians. The same is true of the Scriptural ref-erences to "following Christ" (Mt 8:22; 19:21; 12:26; 19:28; Mk 9:38; Jn 8:12). Again, the picture of the way Christ actually lived is difficult to disengage from the sev-eral layers of testimony about Him which we have in the Gospels. In other words, we do not have any ready-made picture of what His poverty, chastity, and obedience looked like, and this makes our claim as religious to be imitating Him more difficult. The Son of Man did not have a place to lay His head, but He had a devoted fol-lowing of women and it is hard to see how anyone in those circumstances would have to do without material necessities. He was obedient to the Father, but was such .I-÷ 4- TI~ Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ George C. McCauley, REV]EW FOR REL[GIOUS obedience more difficult than obedience shown to men and women who do not have all the Father's advantages? He was celibate in a culture that did not set as much store as we do today on mutual love between man and woman, on personal sexual attraction and its flowering in family life. We will return to the question of the reli-gious' relationship with Christ in a moment. The point here is that expressions like "imitating" Christ which recur in our traditional formulations of the religious life are not by that simple fact illuminating when we come to examine what the religious life is. We are there-fore forced to take a closer look at the religious life as a form of human activity. One advantage to this ap-proach is that the religious might get a clearer, more identifiable picture of what he is doing, even apart from the question of why he is doing it. What image, then, will help us understand what the religious is doing? We will suggest as a basic charac-terization of that life its daring nature. By this is meant more than that the religious is exposed to the toll men-tioned earlier and hence that he risks not surviving his being distanced from the cultural milieu. Not surviving is a risk, to be sure, but a risk is not a dare. The latter has a more positive connotation and requires a more ex-tended analysis. When we speak of a daring feat or of a daring way of life, the emphasis is less on the possibility of failure as it is on the uniqueness of accomplishment involved. The accomplishment takes place in the face of obstacles and danger, but these aspects are subordinate to the inner content of the accomplishment itself. Examples of daring are varied. There are daring feats of exploration, .of physical prowess or menta! endurance, of both of these latter in varying combinations. We even speak of daring crimes. Daring stems from a certain persistent determina-tion to do something which (though not necessarily be-cause) other people do not do. This determination settles on what is uncustomary.The darer fixes on strange goals and pursues them with a single-minded intensity. He is oblivious to commentary, favorable or not, on his ac-tions. It is not a question of toughness nor of unconven-tionality. The darer may be outwardly the mildest and most unprepossessing person in the world. But he is capable of totally concentrating on the steps which sepa-rately and together form his achievement. We cannot deny that his dare resembles an obsession. He is also sub-ject to the usual urge to limit and falsify the demands of his dare, to exaggerate his readiness, qualifications, and technique for daring properly. But these he corrects in order to be true to the dare. The point here is not to ask why he dares, but to ob- serve the act of daring in itself, its rigid demands, its engrossing personal fascination for the darer, and its indifference to other ways of acting. This indifference is important. The mountain climber, for example, can be questioned endlessly as to why he does what he does. He is in effect being asked to justify his daring which often seems to be either sheer folly or disdain for life in the valley. Mallory's well-known explanation of why he assaulted Everest ("Because it is there") is, however, less a comment on Everest, which is there for everyone, than a revelation about Mallory who was different precisely in his d~ring. In his case, as with all daring, we are forced to admit that, to some extent, daring is its own justifica-tion. No amount of scepticism, no amount of bewilder-ment on the part of those who do not dare, can detract from the darer's achievement. The test of the human validity of a dare is the admiration that it inspires in the observer. And in terms of a traditional humanism, the burden of the proof is on the non-darer to show that daring is unjustified. In all this, we cannot facilely iden-tify daring with "doing your own thing," since there is an aspect of human achievement and of human approval to the dare that is often lacking where some attempt to glorify "their own thing." If we apply the image of an act of daring to the con-duct of religious, we get some idea of what the religious life as a form of observable human conduct is. It is a form of daring whose justification, in part at least, is to be sought no further than in its own intrinsic impera-tive as daring. We must practice the same discipline in examining the religious life as we did with the act of daring itself, by postponing questions of motive and of content in order to see the human form of the religious life as such. Hence we may not assume as a general prin-ciple that Christ "calls" to the religious life individuals who are neutrally qualified, that is, ready to lead that life or some other life, with the only difference in the subsequent choice beifig a difference in the degree of love that they can summon up for Christ. Such a view makes the choice of the religious life almost com-pletely a matter of an adult decision to move from a neutral plane to one of greater (more altruistic) love. But is it not more likely that Christ calls individ-uals to this life because they are daring types, that is, because they have, before any adult decision related to Christ, something in themselves which is capable of and which demands living a dare? The rich young man in the Gospels was sad that Christ invited him to a life of poverty and of dedication. This narrative has sometimes led to the impression that a call from Christ brings a person who supposedly stands in neutral balance before various ~÷ ÷ ÷ Tlw Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 George C. McCauley, S.J. REVIEW FOR REL~6~OUS possible life options to choose a "lfigher" state into which he then fits his talents. But such a view of Christ's calling may not credit Christ with sufficient politeness. The call of Christ is perhaps better adapted to our in-dividual capacities than we expect. The rich young man's sadness is not only to be attributed to the fact that, in following Christ, he will have to do without his riches, but also to the fact that he is the kind of person who should dare to do without riches if he is to respond to the imperatives of his own deepest person which Christ sees more clearly than he does. How then do such terms as "greater love," "closer following of Christ," or "higher state" apply to the re-ligious life? If, as we will suggest later on, the religious' dare also turns out to be of immense service to the Church and to the world, how is the religious to relate his own imperative as a darer, this personal and quite human as-pect of his calling, to the service of others? What we are really asking is how Christ looks upon the individual religious: as someone who should consciously concentrate on the service and love of Christ and of others beyond the measure of what is normally asked? or as someone who should be candidly aware of his own personal imperative to dare, to enjoy the situation of being a darer regardless of how much service or love is connected with it? Is Christ the kind of person who would "use" the darer for the service of the Church? Or is Christ calling the darer to a conscious love and service of Himself and of the Church only in order to reveal to the darer his own true self? If Christ's concern in calling the individual religious is primarily to a!low that religious a large meas-ure of fidelity to what is most personal and quite human in himself--to his capacity to dare--what sense is there in describing the religious life as a call to greater or higher love? The religious life is indeed centered on Christ; and, through this centering, it has a more uni-versal scope and influence. And all this, too, is thoroughly human, even if our cultural norms do not recognize this humanity. But we should not call such a commitment "greater" or "higher" if what we really mean by those words is a commitment that is more universal in scope. Perhaps the better way to describe the religious' relation-ship to Christ is to speak of Christ initially as someone who calls us to love Him and others, then as someone who shows us the way in which we love ourselves, and finally as someone with whom we are ourselves in the daring service of others. There are several corollary observations to be made on our use of the image of daring to help us understand the religious' commitment. First of all, it seems that this image is less suited to women religious then to men, simply because men more than women have been asso-ciated with those activities from which we sought an un-derstanding of the structure of daring. It is risky to sug-gest what daring consists of for the gentler sex; yet, if a parallel image is to be sought, it is to be sought in a con-text of exceptional actions which of themselves call forth human esteem and which also call for unusual deter-mination, singleness of purpose, no apologies, and a deep sense of a specific pull in one direction. Childbearing and putting up with male pretensions are daring enough, but are they not also too universal to illustrate a womanly dare? The will to make sense out of life, and to live its rhythms in one's actual circumstances, char-acterizes every basic vocational choice. It is only where the choice seems to depart from the usual without be-coming bizarre that we are dealing with a dare. Hence women religious must seek the image of their daring in some other more appropriate phenomenon. The only one that suggests itself at the moment is the image of the woman of abandon who sets no store on propriety, scorns convention, and foregoes a good name in the pur-suit of love. Despite its obvious limitations this image conveys many of the qualities that we associate with dar-ing. The second observation concerns "leaving" the life of vows. There are overanxious minds who rule out a priori the continued desirability of a permanent style of religi-ous life. Yet, it is somewhat tyrannical to say that no one should live his religious dare to the end of his days. It overlooks the fact that some people do live it, and live it well for a lifetime, shifting emphases and priorities as the circumstances of the Church require, deepening the main lines of their dare, personally enriched and a source of joy for all around them. But in assessing the permanency of the religious life we have to keep in mind that, where we are dealing with something resembling a dare, we are going to have to keep a respectful distance from another person's commitment. The reason is that we simply do not know who is called to dare and for how long. The Church has always recognized this and has granted dispensations from "permanent," "final" vows, however "solemn" they might have been. We have pre-served, if grudgingly at times, the insight that Christ is not as fanatical as we sometimes wish to be in insuring lifetime commitments. No less a master of spiritual in-sight than Ignatius of Loyola indicated in his spiritual Exercises that there is always room for the subsequent discovery that one's life choices have not added up to a "divine vocation." His sixteenth century advice to a per-son making such a discovery was that they make the best of the situation. In parochial Europe at that time making ÷ 4- ÷ Th~ Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 ~9 ÷ ÷ ÷ George C. McCauley, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the best of the situation often excluded, [or purely social reasons, departing from one's chosen state. There is less pressure on the religious today to continue in a vocation that no longer appears to be divine, that is, that no longer amounts to a growth in charity (beginning at home) for the individual or for those he encounters. We all must wait on the individual to tell us as the fruit of his most interior discovery whether or not in fact he wishes to continue his dare. If he does not, that is, by the unique nature of his daring situation, his business and not ours. It might even not be a bad idea for the Con-gregation of Religious, when issuing papers that release from the vows, to add a word of thanks for the service, short or long, that an individual has given to the Church in the course of daring commitment to Christ. A third observation brings us back to the question of the religious' motivation in choosing to make the dare that his life is. We suggested that his motivation is pri-marily a response to Christ in which the religious may not be aware that Christ's invitation suits his own make-up as a darer. This prior suitability in no way offends against the gratuity of Christ's invitation. It simply gives Christ more credit for exercising his gratuity politely, according to the actual condition of the person whom he is inviting. Yet, the choice of the religious life is open to other motivations precisely because of its dare struc-tare. These motivations are not properly religious and can therefore cause great harm to the individual who acts on them. For example, there is the motivation pres-ent, ironically, in those whose faith is most precarious. Doubt sits in the center of most authentic faith; but where this doubt is severe, and where the person in ques-tion is highly sincere or scrupulous, it sometimes hap-pens that the person wishes to put his doubt "to the su-preme test." That is, he wishes to test it out in the most difficult circumstances in order to be able to say that he gave faith a chance to prove itself to him. A parallel may be drawn here between the case of some religious and that of doctors and psychiatrists among whom a high incidence of depression is found. This depression is con-sidered to be as much a cause of their professional interest and vocation as it is a result of exposure to the hard realities of their profession. Similarly the religious may gravitate to his particular way of life in order to test faith at the extreme. Unfortunately, he may then push himself (or others) beyond the measure of daring to an unbounded or fanatical kind of performance testing, without much joy or real personal exchange, and without the care that distinguishes the darer from the presumptu-ous or dangerous achiever. What the Religious Dares to Do If in its human form the religious life is an act of daring, what is the content of that dare? What does the religious dare to do? As a general statement we might say that the religious dares the normal structures of Christian living. The Vatican Council (II) pointed out that the religious' special act of consecration "is deeply rooted in [their] baptismal consecration and provides an ampler manifestation of it" (Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life, n. 5). This baptismal con-secration takes in the whole Christian commitment to form community with God and with one's fellow men by engaging in a life of authentic cult and. sacramental humanism. It is obviously a very broad kind of commit-ment. How then is it possible to dare it? What the Church has done is to divide up the baptismal commitment somewhat artificially into the less broad categories of poverty, chastity, and obedience; religious center their dare in these areas. What is important to realize is that the normal Christian has a commitment in these areas by reason of his baptismal vows. He is directed to take a stand, in the name of Christ, on material goods and pos-sessions, on sexual and married love, on his relationship of dependence on God and on others. What the religious does is to take these preexisting structures of the Christian commitment and to treat them in a daring fashion. We will analyze this effort in a moment. Part of the contem-porary crisis in the religious life, however, is precisely the fact that the normal structures of the baptismal com-mitment are in flux. Hence the religious is uncertain in his dare. This is an extremely painful state, and all the more dangerous because the religious is, as a darer, a most earnest person, all appearances to the contrary. It is not surprising that many religious are leaving to under-take specific (if temporary) tasks of more than ordinary dedication. To attribute this phenomenon solely to a lack of generosity or to a general softness is perhaps one of the most simple-minded analyses ever made in the Church. On the other hand, the uncertainty attendant upon the religious life today is largely inevitable. The review to which the Church itself and the baptismal commitment are being subjected today creates a state of imbalance for the general believer and for the religious. We can illustrate this in the three areas of the religious' dare. In one sense, little has changed in the baptized per-son's commitment to poverty. There is still the need to resist our tendency to clutter, to surround, to weigh our-selves down with all sorts of paraphernalia which pains-÷ ÷ ÷ The Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 74! ÷ ÷ ÷ George C. McCauley, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS takingly insure or trumpet our personal importance. There is, too, the command and invitation of Christ to share with the needy. In daring these Christian forms of poverty, the religious can hardly pretend that it makes no difference what he owns or what he shares with others. He will therefore continue to aim at divesting himself of those layers of material possession which enable nor-mal people to define themselves in terms of what they have instead of who they are. The religious will bare his person to the world in testimony to the fact that it is at the level of personhood that we most truly exist and Christ most truly works. He will continue to share his talents and his energies with his fellow man. He will also give witness to the fact that sharing at the level of personhood is a far more demanding and far richer kind of sharing than all others, and that this kind of sharing is most illustrative of the kind of redeemer Christ was. But there is a special stamp to the poverty of the baptised Christian today, a stamp which in turn calls for revisions in the way the religious dares that poverty. The Church's present attitude (officially communicated in various encyclicals) toward material goods and toward money is characterized by an insistence on a responsi-ble, intelligent, and imaginative use of these things in society at large. The religious' dare at this level need not imply that he personally receive and keep a salary which he then uses wisely and imaginatively. The prob-lem with money today is not in the individual use of money but in the social uses of money, in the con-structive political uses of money at the institutional, local, national, and international levels. Religious have in fact felt the need to be daring in these areas. They have had to question their investment of money and manpower in traditional institutions and aposto-lates, to consolidate their houses of formation, to avoid reduplication that has no other justification than a de-sire to be true to the Good Old Founder, to fund mis-sionary work conjointly with other groups and even other faiths, to work through civil institutions where these have the moneys and structures to do a job better. But there is always room to improve the quality of our dare. The fortunes of Christian authority are also fluctuating today. Everyone is trying to make sense out of the apparent "disobedience" shown papal and episcopal authority. Opinions range from the simplistic view that we are dealing with a wave of sinful disloyalty to the view that we are developing a Christian anarchy which reduces the relation of the faithful to the hierarchy to a matter of contending power groups. The more solidi analyses of theologians of authority have taken two di- rections: first, to attack facile identifications of Christian authority with those profane forms of authority that we meet in our normal experience (parental, civil, educa-tional, personal magnetism, power, and so forth). What changes, this attack has brought about in our usual attitudes toward jurisdiction, law, rules, derision mak-ing, official teaching, penalties, and so forth, is not yet clear. Secondly, theologians have put Christian authority in the context of dialogue, not as though dialogue were simply the modern style of Christian authority and its pragmatic concomitant, but because of the God-given and inalienable dignity of the individual Christian be-fore all men which demands that he direct his life in responsible freedom, that he assess events with an open-ness to people who think differently from himself. There are innumerable problems in the theology of authority which remain unsolved. Our point here is again to point out that the religious dares what the normal Christian is exposed to in the matter of authority. The hero in the religious community today is not the one who can keep the rules best. Many of those trained to wait for superiors to decide for them what they will do by way of work, apostolate, or formation suffer most. And it is not clear that their suffering offers us the opti-mum example of the folly of the cross. Ironically, the greatest suffering (and possibly the more authentic em-bodiment of Christian folly) comes in the religious' ex-perience of dialogue. Today's religious communities probably have more experience in dialogue than any other large groups of people in the world. In the hours and hours spent on examining apostolate, structures, attitudes, renovation, and local problems, religious have discovered the real dimensions of their divi-sions. This discovery has often been accompanied with confusion and even with bitterness. Some communities have, to all appearances, been destroyed by this dialogue. Others are finding their life less romantic, more stark and seemingly loveless. Still others are discovering that it is precisely in a keen sense of intramural differences that the true nature of Christian faith is emerging. The religious is discovering that he must and can break bread --at least the bread of Christ--with those with whom he differs. He must and can work together despite serious ideological rifts. He must and can love what is really not himself. The image of his religious community as a homo-geneous unit has shattered irreparably. If he does not find a new and absolute source of unity in the principle of dialogue itself, he is doomed. The astounding aspect of this whole development is that the secular world needs precisely this kind of unity-in- diversity at the present time. Nothing could be more ÷ ÷ ÷ The Toll VOLUME 28, 1969 4. 4. George . McCauley, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS pragmatic and more relevant than for the Roman Catholic Church, through its experience of dialogue, to become the spokesman for dialogue in the modern world, to share with the world its hitter experience and yet the constructive healing that it has found in dialogue. We are learning as a community and not simply as in-dividuals to face the different levels of meaning that lie behind human language, to concentrate on that which unites us rather than on that which tears us apart, to rid ourselves of the mentality that says it is easy to dis-agree in lucid and unambiguous terms. Perhaps if we learn this lesson well the world will profit from our presence. The religious communities are now £eeling the pain of dialogue in the most intense fashion. Dialogue has hardly even begun on the parish level and, given our cultural and religious background, it will be only through an "authoritative" command of bishops over a long period that parish-level dialogue will be triggered and sustained. In the meantime religious communities will be asked to dare this dialogue structure of authority. If they are hard pressed in doing so, it is no great surprise. The question is: Is it not worthwhile? The third and most obvious area of the religious' dare is the matter of chastity. Chastity is required of all Christians by reason of their baptismal vows. Unfortu-nately, it is often understood in purely negative terms without much realization that a purely negative view is uhimately insulting to Christ. Yet, the purpose of Christian chastity is that every Christian learn from Christ what it is to be an authentic human lover. Such is the logic of the sacrament of matrimony, in which a couple accepts Christ into the heart of their human love, making His attitudes the standard for their own relationship. What this implies, too, is that, when Christ is introduced into the heart of human love, that love is forced to become open to other people beyond the lovers themselves. For the commitment to Christ as the standard and support of human love opens the couple out to Christ's community who help to interpret the standard and to support the couple in their pursuit of human love. Hence Christ makes even the private love between man and woman more open to others and more enriching for all. The religious extend this principle of openness in human love through Christ. By introducing Christ even more into the heart of his love, he opens himself out to more human contacts, to relationships of support and understanding with more people. Whatever the ac-tual scope of the religious' concern for and contact with people, his intention, and the content of his dare, is to give himself to as many as possible through Christ. Or, to put it more in the actual terms of his awareness, his instinct and his hope is that in not giving himself to one woman in Christ, Christ makes of him a man for all men and women. There are two observations to be made concerning the religious' chastity. First of all, a vow 0f chastity is not something which blots out in the religious an aware-ness of his own capacity for married love. In fact it seems that the more authentic hi~ dare in this area the more proximately ready he should be for married love. We might even say that, without ever mildly compromising his commitment, the religious should try to keep ready in order that his dare never become a sort of misguided m~prise for other ways of living and loving, and in order that his devotion to the Lord preserve its own proper relationship to other loves. Religious love Christ not with some globally undifferentiated or asexual love, but men love him as a man and women love him as women. And unless one has some notion of what the difference between the two is, one risks marring the appropriate overtones to the individual's relationship to Christ. The second remark to be made is that the religious also serves those for whom human love between a man and a woman is a physical, psychological, or economic impossibility. In an affluent sodety who cares for the un-gainly loves? Who sympathizes for the awkward, the ugly, the malproportioned? For people in whom love crouches like a deformed child? For those for whom their own sexuality is an embarrassment or a grotesque albatross? For whom communication with the other sex is at best a halting dumb-show or hollow bravura and at worst a mockery? Against the standard of successful married love, these people are judged severely in most societies. We do our best to hide them, or not to discuss them, because we surreptitiously set up as an absolute standard of human dignity success in married love. The presence of religious can do much to dissipate this false assessment of human dignity. Sooner or later, some0he is going to have to explain the religious who, while he insists on his own dignity, does not measure it by the imperious standard of successful married love. And others, seeing the religious, can take hope for their own dignity. Conclusion Our analysis has not left us without questions. This is inevitable since any theological image is no more than that, a way of understanding a faith experience which constantly runs ahead of our images of it. In admitting the difficulty of reconciling the image of daring with the service aspect of the vows (service to Christ and to men), we are simply expressing in other terms the perennial problem of reconciling love of self with love of others, ÷ ÷ Th~ ToI! the problem of being a self in the world. Other prob-lems lie beneath the surface of our consideration of the content of the religious' dare. A kind of parallel think-ing urges us to conclude that, just as the religious ends up not marrying, not having possessions, so too he should end up not choosing in the face of a superior's commands. This is indeed an aspect of his dare, but only in the sense that the religious foregoes choosing to limit dia-logue, just as he foregoes limiting his human love to one woman and just as he foregoes limiting his person to his possessions. The superior's commands should not ignore the positive purpose of the vows which are not supposed to be some kind of exercise in how-long-can-you-go-holding- your-breath. The religious superior has to realize that the vows open up the religious to the service of all. Moreover the superior has to realize that he is dealing with the daring of an individual person and that his function as superior is not to get individuals to conform to some imaginary and generalized "will of Christ." The superior's main role is to let Christ work in the life of the individual religious, without himself insisting a priori on the possible ways in which and only in which Christ can work. The religious superior can never interfere with the general lines of the structure of the religious life itself. If, as we suggested, these general lines require the re-ligious to dare the baptismal commitment to poverty, chastity, and obedience, it becomes all the more im-portant for religious superiors today to examine their own attitudes toward how the Church today is formu-lating the baptismal commitment. On this point, the general argument in the Church over what the implica-tions of Christian baptism are is taking a further toll on individual religious who feel that their dare is up in the air while the general argument rages. It is hardly sur-prising, then, that the optimists and pessimists line up in about the same way on the religious life as they do on the Church itself. It is curious, however, how optimism also resembles a dare. ÷ ÷ ÷ George C. McCaul~y, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOHN W. STAFFORD, C.S.V. Prayer Life in the Contemporary Community Introduction There are several approaches to a reflection on the prayer life of the contemporary religious community. One could enter the reflection, with the bias that there just does not seem to be much prayer going on these days in the contemporary community, either private, personal prayer or communal prayer. In that case the title of this paper might have been altered to read: "The Decline and Fall of Prayer in the World of Today." A second bias might be a more joyous one. Freed from the routine of the so-called religious exercises, the con-temporary religious leads a life of prayer that is unself-ish, authentic, meaningful, and full of compassion and concern for one's fellow man in God's world of today. The times and places of prayer are utterly unimpor-tant, but there is prayer going on. The forms of prayer are informal, perhaps free-form, or even utterly form-less. But there is substance to the prayer, and substance is certainly more important than form. Our title then might have been: "Come, All You Gals and Guys, Let's Strum a Prayer to the Lord." Or, if one wants to risk use of a language that is not exactly alive and jumping, the title might even be, with a certain appropriateness: "Laborare Est Orate." A third approach might be from the bias of the har-monizer, the synthesizer, the cool observer of the con-temporary scene, who perhaps thinks he is without bias. The reflection then would focus on what is good in the prayer life of religious in the past that should be pre-served, on what should be modified to conform to the needs of today (with a reference, of course, to Perfectae ÷ ÷ ÷ John W. $taf-ford° C.S.V., lives at 1100 Forest Avenue; Evanston, Illinois 80£02. VOLUME 28, 1969 747 + + ]ohn W. Sta~ord, C~.V. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS caritatis, n. 3), and finally on how entirely new concepts of prayer can enrich our religious life. The title of all this could well be: "The Adaptive Renewal of Prayer Life in the Contemporary Community"; perhaps more briefly: "Old Wine in New Bottles", or maybe: "Old Wine in Your Own New Plastic Bag." There could even be a fourth approach (and I am sure more), that of the planner and the prophet. The reflection would be directed towards some kind of schema of prayer life to fit the tempo and needs of to-day. There could be principles and propositions, a sort of blueprint or script or scenario for the ideal type of prayer life for a contemporary religious. This could be entitled simply: "How the Religious of Today Should Pray." The approach here, no doubt with conscious and un-conscious overtones of all four of the above, will be what may be rather grandiosely called phenomenological. The reflection will be that very difficult one of attempting to look at the prayer life of religious factually and with-out bias, non-judgmentally. Perhaps in any meaningful sense this is practically impossible, not only because of the lack of truly factual information, but. also due to man's apparently irresistible drive to look at every-thing through the basic biases of his being. The Facts of Contemporary Prayer The hard facts of the contemporary prayer life of religious are not easy to come by. There are all sorts of things going on ad experimentum; but there seem precious few real experiments with verified data that can be communicated and dealt with in objective study. There are, of course, some generalizations frequently made, but of dubious value. Some examples: religious today have largely lost the true spirit of prayer; there is less prayer today, but better prayer; there is really more prayer going on, in pri,date, although less in public to be seen by others; there are new modes of prayer around that are truly prayer even though they cannot at all be classified into the categories of the past. No doubt such statements are true for selected nmnbers of people, but how generalized we can make them it is impossible to say. But it seems that, based on widespread observation and report, some true generalizations are possible about the present-day prayer behavior of religious. Fewer religious are seen in their chapels, either for private prayer before the Blessed Sacrament or for com-munal exercises of prayer. When they do come together to pray, it is on a schedule that is notably more flexible and less demanding than even only a few years ago. There certainly has been adaptation in prayer "to the physical and psychological conditions of today's reli-gious" (Perfectae caritatis, n. 3). Changes in the forms of communal prayer have been widespread: exercises formerly thought best performed in common, like spiritual reading and visits to the Blessed Sacrament, are now considered more personal and private. The formulas of morning and evening prayer, which in many congregations grew like barnacles over the decades and even over the centuries, have been largely replaced by the official prayers of the Church, Lauds and Vespers or Compline. More recently, these official prayers have lost some of their novelty in those congregations where they were only recently introduced; hence there has been a rather widespread substitution of other readings for the Psalms, and this has here and there taken forms that are as contemporary as the latest popular literature. Today, then, there is certainly more variety, more improvisa-tion, more individual participation in prayer than there has been in the "Official" Church for centuries. It seems that another notable change with regard to the prayer life of religious is that, even though there may be less praying in public, the whole question of prayer has become explosively public. People talk about prayer more than perhaps at any other time since the Golden Age of Spanish mysticism in the sixteenth cen-tury. But the talk today would hardly be understood by a Spanish or any other variety of mystic: it deals not with degrees of the spiritual life, not with problems of aridity and desolation and dark nights of the soul, but with the very relevance of forms of prayer and of prayer itself in a secular age. There is a frankness in today's discussions about prayer totally unknown before. The superiority of prayer over service to others is seriously questioned. The assumption that there should be the same prayer for all at the same time and in the same place is simply rejected. And some of the traditional prayers of the Church come in for especially withering criticism, like the clear implication in the Hymn at Lauds for the Christmas season that the Infant Jesus was cold and hungry, and that choice bit from Psalm 136, at Thursday's Lauds: "Happy the man who shall seize and smash your little ones against the rocks." And "Good Night, Jesus," just does not seem to swing on an electric guitar. The whole place of prayer in the religious life, es-pecially in the formative years, has come under ques-tioning scrutiny. It would seem a valid generalization that until fairly recently young religious fresh "out of the world" and into the novitiate, for the most part, first were taught to pray, according to the accepted 4. 4- 4- Prayer LiJe VOLUME 28, ].969 749 ÷ ÷ ÷ John W. Sta~ord, C~.V. REVZEW FOR RELZG[OUS forms and customs of the congregation. Then, in seclu-sion from the world they learned how to live in charity with one another. Finally, if they belonged to the active societies, after a number of years of formation it was considered safe to permit them to engage in some form of external apostolate for the service of others, where they would meet "people of the world." Throughout they were taught to do all this for Christ who is God. It is not at all. clear that the concepts of Christ and of God of many religious today are those of even a decade ago. The Thomistic God of the philosophers is by no means accepted by all religious today. Maybe this was true a generation ago, too, but the fact is that if it was, one just did not say so! And views of Christ held today by many religious might have been labeled as tainted with heresy not at all long ago. It is not popular today to begin with prayer, for God through Christ, then move on to carefully guarded relationships with a highly se-lected group of chosen souls presumably much like yourself. You begin with people. In your encounters with people you learn more of yourself; and, if you are lucky, you come to see that people, ultimately, cannot really fulfill the totality of human needs. So God enters in, transcendent, it is true, but not at all the God with the carefully distinguished attributes of the old theo-logical manuals, and by no means always the God to whom novices formerly were taught to pray. But this God, nevertheless, is still a God to whom one prays. As everyone knows, a notable change in the prayer life of the contemporary religious, as in the prayer life of the whole Church, is the restoration of the centrality of the divine liturgy. Even though the importance or even the wisdom of daily Mass is questioned widely, and the forms of the Mass by no means always held to what is officially permitted, the Mass is still the great prayer of religious. It is a fact that many are dissatisfied with the Mass unless it is made something that they consider authentic, .dynamic, and fulfilling. The Liturgy of the Word is modified to fit the needs and interests of the participants, and the spontaneous changes made in the Liturgy of Sacrifice are in the direction of more personal meaningfulness and of greater social relevancy. A final fact that might be noted in today's prayer life of religious is that it can no longer be considered as restricted to the "ghetto" of the convent chapel. For the Mass at least, religious join more often than before with others in public church or university chapel. And those who do not belong to the congregation have now a warmer welcome than ever before to worship with religious in their own chapels. Religious, too, like all in the Church, have come to see that ecumenical prayer is a beautiful witness to the uriity and brotherhood of mankind. The PersonabCommunity Tension Throughout what has just been said we can distill out, amongst other things, a tension between the per-sonal or the private and the communal or public that, it would seem, is the greatest in history. Whether, as some would say, in the past the person became lost in the group or, as others would say, the group bestowed per-sonal fulfillment on the individual, there did in fact seem less tension between the two. Some things were done privately, some together; there seemed litde debate about it all. Certainly, there have always been in reli-gious communities as in all societies this elemental con-flict between the individual and the collectivity, the age old philosophical and very real and practical problem of the one and the many. But the conflict was generally controlled in the area of religious prayer. Today we witness a tremendous development of per-sonalism, of emphasis on the dignity and integrity of the individual. Though there is around, even in our highly sophisticated society, a lot of compulsive conforming to group norms and tribal customs, there is a more wide-spread and more intensive insistence on the importance of the individual. Read the documents of Vatican II and the pronouncements of our own contemporary popes; read the Declaration of the Rights of Man of the United Nations; recall the Four Freedoms of a generation ago; note the contemporary emphases everywhere on the rights of conscience and on freedom of religion; look at the map of the world. Everywhere there is insistence on self-government of peoples, on responsible self-determi-nation of the individual. Truly we can call this the supreme age in history of the individual person. Paradoxically, we can also see that never before in history has there been more "community." This can be seen, at one level, in the communications explosion of our age, the mass media of communication, the break-down of barriers of space and time by jet and satellite. Although there is certainly not peace throughout the world, nevertheless as never before in history a political or diplomatic brushfire anywhere is watched with alarm lest it become a world conflagration. Even though all men are by no means brothers, there is a longing for universal brotherhood, and progress towards it, that are truly remarkable. There is a concern for the poor and the unlettered and the deprived of the world as never before. This is clearly evident on a more local level. Vast groups of our own population are outraged, not because + + Prayer Liye VOLUME ~8, ~tg&~ ¯ 751 + 4. 4. John W. Sta~o~d~ .$.V. REVI

Issue 27.5 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; 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 ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. C~orrespondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to KEVIEW FOR RELI~3IOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63io3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, pennsylvania ~91o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1968 by REvmw FOR RELm~Ot3S at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class pos!age paid at Baltimore, Maryland. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to Rzvmw Fort R~LIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR. RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, wher~ accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REvIEw ~Oa RELIGIOtJS; P. O. BOX 671; Baltimore. Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittanct should be sent to REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS ; 4~8 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MaD, land 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to R~vmw ~oa RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. SEPTEMBER1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 5 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Signs Charisms, Apostolates "Signs of the times" is a phrase that has been bandied about for so long in ecclesiastical circles that it has be-come part of our Christian vocabulary and has helped to define the relationship between the Church and the world.1 It is a category which sums up and expresses the Christian interpretation.of human, history---of the events which give evidence of and vindicate God's pres-ence and activity in the world through human agency. It has been empl'oyed in papal and conciliar documents not as a pious exhortation but in order to draw attention to the Christian duty of recognizing, analyzing, and assessing the events and movements of !aistory as so ma.ny opportunities for evangelisation. The Church will have a dynamic and effective apostolate in the world only if she discerns and assesses the values to be found in the world today. The charisms or gifts with which the Spirit of Christ endows the Church enable her not only to interpret contemporary history but to meet the needs of peoples. Pope John XXIII first used the expression "signs of the times" in the apostolic constitution Humanae salutis, proclaiming the Second Vatican Council3 "Indeed," he said, "we make ours the recommendation of Jesus that one should know how to distinguish the 'signs of the times' (Mr 16:4), and we seem to see now, in the midst of so much darkness, a few indications which augur well for the fate of the Church and of humanity." After 1 See M.-D. Chenu, O.P., "Les signes des temps," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 87 (1965), pp. 20-$9; "The Church and the World," Documentatie Centrum Concilie, n. 52; "The Christian Value of Earthly Realities," ibid., n. 157; "A Pastoral Constitution on the Church," ibid., n. 205. = Walter M. Abbott, S.J., and Joseph Gallagher (eds.), The Docu-ments o[ Vatican H (New York: America Press, Guild Press, Associa-tion Press, 1966), p. 704. All translations of Vatican II documents throughout the article are taken from this edition. Joseph Fichtner, O~S.C., is a faculty member of the Cro-sier House of Stud-ies; 2620 East Wal-len Road, Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. VOLUME 27, 1968 + + ÷ $oseph Fichtner, 0.$.C. listing several indications he himself had noticed, he added: "And this facilitates, no doubt, the apostolate of the Church . " The phrase was given a little more precise applica-tion by the same pontiff in his encyclical Peace on Earth,~ most significant for addressing itself not only to members of the Church but to "all men of good will." Here John XX!II observed how our age is distinguished by three characteristics: (1) the promotion o[ the working classes; (2) the entry of women into public life; and (3) the emancipation of colonized peoples. All three together signi[y that sweeping socialization whose Christian value the Church embraces with the arms of her catholicity. The recourse she may have to such signs of the times is not. a matter of opportunism but the result of understanding the spirit of the times and how the Spirit o[ Christ is at work in them. In his first encyclical Ecclesiam Suam,4 Pope Paul VI retained the term aggiornamento coined by John XXIII and associated it with the "signs of the times" as a pro-gram of action: "We want to recall it to mind as a stim-ulus to preserve the perennial vitality of the Church, her continuous awareness and ability to study the signs of the times and her constantly youthful agility in 'scrutiniz-ing it all carefully and retaining only what is good' (I Thes 5:21) always and everywhere." As John XXIII made the signs of the times the nerve center of his en-cyclical and the reason [or his optimistic outlook upon the health of the world, so did Paul VI comment upon them favorably after his return from Jerusalem on J.anuary 8, 1964, asking the faithful to understand, reflect upon, and learn how to go about deciphering them. Finally, despite some hesitation about accepting the phrase because of its biblical derivation, it was taken up into the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World:5 "To carry out such a task [of service], the Church has always had the duty of scrutinizing the signs of the times and of interpreting-them in the light o[ the gospel . We must therefore recognize and understand the world in which we live, its expec-tations, its longings, and its often dramatic characteris-tics." The same article sketches by way of contrasts some of the contemporary characteristics: social, economic, and cultural transformation versus the uncertainty about the direction man is giving it; abundant wealth, natural resources, economic power, and the accompanying hun- 3 William J. Gibbons, S.J. (ed.), Pacera in terris (New York: Paul-ist Press, 1963), nn. 39-45. ~ The Pope Speaks, v. 10 (1965), p. 271, n. 20. The translation given above differs somewhat from the reference. 3 Article 4. ger and poverty; the unity and solidarity of the world versus the threat of total war; exchange of. ideas and diverse ideologies; a better world movement without equal zeal for spiritual betterment;'hope and anxiety. Its use in Matthew 16:4 has rendered the ph~rase sus-pect, for in the Matthean context the term "signs" refers to the miracles Jesus Worked, which is far from the meaning attached to it by either the popes or the recent council. What the latter had in mind were the events, not necessarily miraculous or extraordinary, taking place in the course of human history having spiritual and symbolic significance. The events, what-ever they may be, have both historical and theological significance. This means that beyond their immediate, brute, historical content, they have a value because they are an expression of an other reality. One can, for exam-ple, envision the forms of civilization---industrialization, socialization, urbanization, decolonialism--simply as historical trends, and then again, as the Pastoral Con-stitution on the Church in the Modern World would have us do, .as pointers to a higher reality. They open to man "spiritual vistas long unsuspected." 6 ,Perhaps their spiritual and symbolic significance can be seen more clearly when we recognize them to be signs of the times.7 The Church's duty, if her mission is to be accredited by God,. is to see that the question of God be not left out of any understanding ~ of contemporary history. The Church is dealing here with a "theophany" that has been termed "theonetics," the study of God in change. She is living in a messianic age with an escha-tological thrust--toward the end of time. Christ appeared in the one unique kairos, in the "fullness of time," and the Church is to. appear in His stead, as His' Body, con-tinuously and permanently in the process of time. Her mission in the course of human history is to interpret events and phenomena in such a way as never to let the world lose sight of its creative and redemptive reality, the transcendent and immanent in it. The Church bears witness to the economy of salvation as she sees it unfold-ing itself in history. The times furnish her with the Signs whereby she can be both sensitive to the movement of history and docile to the Holy Spirit helping her inter-pret the signs. She is in the same situation as Israel was when Yahweh was dealing with her in the concrete history Of her people. Failing this task to read the signs. of the times and to recognize their theological implica-tions, the Church abandons the world to its blind his-torical events. Chenu, "Les signes,'; p. 32. See E. Jenni, "Time," The Interpreter's Dictionary o! the Bible, ,1.4. sig,~, Chaa.~, Apostolates VOLUME ~7, ~.968 4, $oseph Fichtner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU~ Part of the difficulty of such a task is that though the Church is distinct from the world, she is linked up with it. The emphasis throughout her history has fallen upon either of the two, the distinction or the link. Whenever the Church felt the distinction from the world most keenly, she shied away from her duty of evaluating earthly realities or else failed to understand them entirely or too glowly.8 It is far easier to insist upon the current categories of the temporal-spiritual, profane-sacred, civilization-evangelization, creation-redemption, history-salvation, Church-world, nature-grace, than to grasp their interrelationship. If the dualisms emerge too sharply, the Church may treat them too much apart, pass abstract judgment upon them, so that "never the twain shall meet." ¯ Granted, evangelization is not of the same order as civilization. To promote culture is not to convert to the faith. To feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty is a duty of Christian charity, but it is not equivalent to preaching the word of God, teaching catechetics, or administering the sacraments. And yet the many earthly values are the common capital of all men, believers and unbelievers alike. Wherever they may be found, they afford the good ground for evangelical growth. Without such positive values as order, justice, right, freedom, and so forth, the work of God would have to operate in a vacuum. All human enterprise, personal as well as social, so long as it promotes the good, the true, the just, and the beautiful, is the fulfillment of that hidden potential man has in himself as an image of his Maker. Humanity itself served an incarnational purpose for the Son of God; all the good works of humanity subserve.the further goal of evangelization. All such works and the values attaching to them, because they signal the gradual development of man, his humanisation, are to be considered the prevenient signs and predispositions for the diffusion of the gospel. Man, confronted by the immense resources of nature, including his own almost infinite capacities, becomes more human through the advance of science, technology, culture, and socialization. At the same time he is left open to spiritual values, his personal and social life as it develops presents positive dispositions for the incar-nation of. divine life. For example, the closer he comes to fulfilling his aspiration for peace, the more likely he is to receive "a peace the world cannot give." 9 Major improve- 8 S~e Heinrich Tenhumberg, "The Role of Church Authority in Investigating the Signs of the Times," Third Session Council Speeches of Vatican H, ed. William K. Leahy and Anthony T. Massimini (New York: Paulist Press, 1966), pp. 172-3. See also Paul Gouyon, "Reading the.Signs of the Times," ibid., pp. 154-7. 8 Jn 14:27. ments upon mass communications help the Christian to spread the message of the gospel universally. So in every instance where he is an agent of truly human progress he renders himself fit for or subject to .grace. What scholastic theology calls the "obediential potency" of men is nothing else than man radically-good but now more than ever open and receptive to grace because of .the development of his capacities.10 Popes John and Paul and the Vatican Council have called our attention to the social dimensions of this obediential.potency. A fair illustration and parallel to our times can be taken from early Christianity when the fathers of the Church observed a major and universal phenomenon of their own stage of human evolution, the civilization of the Roman Empire. The socialization in .our day is comparable to the" civilization in theirs. They were ready to describe the civilization of the Roman Empire as an evangelical preparation. The cultural value of language alone, such as the Greek and the Latin, helped them to proclaim the gospel far and wide, though they could have been tradition-bound by the language of their Founder. The worldwide extension of social and political values, moreover, provided them the good ma-terial for the construction of the kingdom of God. They found the Roman Empire to be a meeting, place for Christianity; its cobblestones were the stepping-stones for "the feet of one who brings good news." 11. Earthly realities, however,, do not always and every-where contain pure or undiluted values; their values oftentimes are ambiguous, contaminated by error or sin. The fathers of the Church realized this fact too, but it did not prevent them from sifting the important values from an admixture of good and evil. In the grandeur of nature, though occasionally troubled in land, sky, and sea, they discovered the vestigia Dei, and in the grandeur of a tainted human nature an imago Dei. Mined ore has its measure of slag before its refinement in a smelting furnace. The same is true of labor organization, agrarian reform, social charity, and so forth. The ultimate per-spective of human projects, faulty as they may be in their hesitant beginnings, may go far beyond their im-mediate realization. This is why it is so ne.cessary to read the signs of the times correctly and not let ourselves be confused over realities.which onesidely seem to be stumbling blocks or idols for mankind. In rendering service to the world we cannot help but expose our own weaknesses and limitations. This exposure is unavoidable, and the a0St. Thomas Aquinas, De virtutibus incommuni, a.10, ad 13; 1-2, ci.ll3, a.10. n Is 52:7. Signs~ Chhrisms, Apostolates VOLUME 27~ 1968 77i Church herself admits it in her Pastoral Constitution On the Church in the Modern World: ". the mission of the Church will show its religious, and by that very fact its supremely human character." x2 There will certainly be risks to assume while drawing the good out of all possible resources for building the kingdom of God. But the risks will be diminished to the extent that we recognize and receive the values of the world in the light of the gospel and instinct with faith" and charity. Faith fed by an intensive prayer life will. have to be on the alert to follow God's designs in .the progress of nations. If the risk is great on the one hand, there is no less risk, for lack of faith and discernment, in failing to see the divine interventions in the events of today. Vatican CounCil II was mindful of this risk when it exemplified a discernment of the signs of the times by way of con-trasts, Such a discernment inspired by the Holy Spirit reveals the Spirit working within the signs: "The whole creation is eagerly waiting for God to reveal his sons." in Re.ligious institutes cannot rest content with the papal and conciliar exhortation to discern the signs of the times, nor are they generally qualified to do so without the charisms or gifts of the Holy Spirit. What the Church i~s able to analyze and assess universally, the various religious groups should do locally and periodically, always ready to seek out new solutions for new problems, How else is adaptation to circumstances possible? They might ask themselves questions such as these: What are ¯ the needs of the local community, civic and religious? Do signs of the times show themselves locally, pointing the way for a religious community to promote and take action? Housing projects, job opportunities, educational facilities, cultural programs, ecumenical activities, social charities, and a host of other situations--do they not cry out for that cooperation without which God will not intervene in human events excepting miraculously? As fast as science and technology are moving ahead into the future, can the religious apostolate afford not to re-examine itself periodically? One of the characteristics of the new-style religious life would seem to be presence in an ever changing society. Members are determined to share in the suffering, sacrifice, and conflict affecting society today. ,~÷ But is there not a subtle temptation in thinking'one ,.4. .has to leave his milieu behind in order t.o go "where the ¯÷ action is" ? The local apostolate, along with the charisms befitting it, may well be the first obligation of a religious group. Heinrich Tenhumberg, Auxiliary Bishop of Mfinster, Joseph Fichtner, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS !772 Article 11. Rom 8:19. Germany, in a speech to the Council Fathers on October 26, 1964, commenting upon the schema of the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, raised the question why in her past the Church too rarely acknowledged the free action of her members who aptly recognized the signs of the times. Fie laid down what he thought were the four conditions for rightly investigating and interpreting the signs of the times, one of which was that "room must be given to a new evaluation of the charisms and gifts of the Holy Spirit among the People of God." 14 Without aspiring to such a mature and correct understanding of the signs of the times, he felt the Church would not be able to "fulfill the will.of God in time." The question Bishop Tenhum-berg raises does not touch upon the fidelity of God to His Church in the modern world, as if He might forsake her in an hour of need; he simply asks whether the Church always utilizes the prophetic gifts which keep her au courant. Of course, the same question can be directed to religious institutes as belonging to the char-ismatic character of the people of God. "Charism" is the near transliteration of a Greek term typically Pauline. It is to be found in the Pauline Epistles and once in the First Epistle of Peter. The latter more or less encapsulates the Pauline idea of a charism: "Each of you has received a special grace, so, like good stewards responsible for all these different graces of God, put yourselves at the service of others." 15 Paul, too, regards the charisms as given to members of the Christian com-munity in trust for the common good of that community. The four lists of charisms he provides indicate how diversified these gifts are, yet none of the lists nor all of them together are ~xhaustive.16 In this enumeration there is no hint of Paul prognosticating about the future needs of the Church and how his lists of charisms are sufficient for them. To envisage the function of each charism for the bene-fit of the whole community, Paul ~onjures up the image of the human body with all of its members contributing to its welfare.~7 The multiplicity of the charisms, rather than manifesting conflict with one another within the totality of the body or tearing it apart, tend toward its 14 Tenhumberg, "The Role," p. 174. The first, second, and fourth conditions are: a renewed theology of the Holy Spirit and of His life and activity within the Church; a renewal of biblical and patris-tic theology; a new style of Church authority and a new method for it to act, watch, and judge. ~ 1 Pt 4:10. See a preconciliar explanation of the charismatic element in the Church by Karl Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church (New York: Herder and Herder, 1964), pp. 42-83. an I Cor 12:8-10, 28-30; Rom 12:6-8; Eph 4:11. a~ See Rom 12:4-6. + + + Signs, ~harisms, Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 77~ ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS unity. In this connection it is interesting to compare the Pauline idea of this totalizing effect of the charisms with the opinion expressed by St. Hippolytus of Rome in his introduction to the Apostolic Tradition, a third-century document. He asserts that "all charisms which from the beginning God gave to man in accordance with his will, restore to man the image which was lost." The early Church thought of the apostolate as the first of the spiritual gifts entrusted to her by Christ. It was itself a charism. Scripture, particularly the Pauline writings, witness to the fact that the Twelve did not lay exclusive claim to the title of "apostle." Probably because they felt the need of the assistance of others, they invested the rest with some of their own power and called them "apostles." The apostolate and the prophetic spirit was, for Paul, the foundation of the Church, with Christ as its cornerstone,is The apostolate was a spiritual gift he treasured much, and that is why he so frequently re-ferred to it. A closer investigation into the charisms of the early Church and their meaning and use bears out the fact that the early Church was so convinced o~ her charismatic role under the influence and guidance of the Holy Spirit that it has led some scholars, peering back into that time, to be-lieve the Church to have been entirely charismatic and not at all hierarchical and institutional. Relating the role of the Holy Spirit to the mystery of the Church, the Dog-matic Constitution on the Church takes issue with such a stand, stating: "He [the Holy Spirit] furnishes and directs her [the Church] with various gifts, both hierar-chical and charismatic, and adorns her with the fruits of His grace (cf. £ph 4:11-12; 1 Cor 12:4; Gal 5:22)." 19 Part and parcel of her charismatic structure is the re-ligious life, and only within this structure does it find its authentic ecclesial dimension. Paul esteemed the apostolate to be a gift and a de-manding task at one and the same time. It would be foolish of us to think the early Christians were buoyed up by a host of fancy, even magical, spiritual gifts and had to exert no effort of their own. We do them an in-justice in imagining their life was surrounded with the miraculous. A good glance at some of their charisms will tell how much need there was for personal and communal effort. Works of mercy--nursing, almsgiving, adminis-tration, fraternal help of every kind--cost effort on their part. So did the preaching, teaching, and discernment of spirits. All such charisms had to be met halfway by men of good will .and selflessness; they demanded that same See Eph 2:20. Article 4. human enterprise and exertion which we ~aw had to be put into a periodic reappraisal of thh signs of the times. For some time before Vatican II theology was reluc-tant to teach that charisms belong to the contemporary Church. Theology was wont to confine the charisms to the primitive Church and to limit them characteristically to the miraculous or extraordinar~y. Vatican II changed all that theological opinion. Little and great charisms have existed throughout the history of the Church. As we read in the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, the Holy Spirit "distributes special graces among the faith-ful of every rank . These charismatic gifts, whether they be the most outstanding or the more ,simple and widely diffused, are to be received with thanksgiving and consolation, for they are exceedingly suitable and useful for the needs of the Church." 20 There seems to be no reason then to hold the early Church to have been more richly endowed with charisms than the Church today. In the Church then as now charisms are spiritual gifts bestowed freely especially for the benefit of others. Wherever one discovers the incon-spicuous service of the Church, no matter how small the ecclesial operation, there, in such gifts, one will likely detect some sort of divine intervention. However slight a manifestation of loving service, it may conceal a gift of the Spirit of Christ. Charisms may be found together wherever one sees the accumulated effect of a sign. Charismatic gifts are not only rare and extraordinary but common and ordinary. Anyone who is willing to expend himself for Christ in heroic fidelity to common-place, everyday things is gifted with a charism. Under the common thing the hidden grace. The gifts of the Holy Spirit are deeper, more hidden and widespread or pervasive than we know. Who is to set limits upon His gifts in our life? Are we too inclined to look for gifts only in the spectacular, the colossal, the newsworthy, like finding a solution to wars, social problems, ecclesias-tical enigmas? Many are the gifts wrapped in the small packages of fidelity to duty, kindness, sincerity, purity, courage, truthfulness, trust, love. At this point it may be time to push Bishop Tenhumberg's argument one notch further by asking if there is any possibility at all of interpreting the signs of the times unless charisms are better employed? How closely interconnected, in fact, intermingled are charisms with the signs of the times? Do we have to speak of them as "values" to observe how they overlap? St. Paul never meant to enumerate all the Charisms of Article 12. ÷ ÷ ÷ Signs, Chazisms~ Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 + + ÷ .loseph Fichtner, O .S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the Spirit at work in his day, possibly because he did not discern them all; nor is it possible for us to list them in our own day, excepting to mention, as he did, that there are varieties of gifts, all of which are intended for the good of the Church. Gifts of nature, talent, skill, com-petence, which often are the substratum of grace and are not easily told apart from it, are not to be hoarded or stingily communicated. Were it possible to paraphrase I Corinthians 12, we would have to say that the variety of gifts discloses itself somewhat differently now than in early Christianity. Perhaps this variety shows up in in-telligence or scholarship or scientific research, social reforms, artistic talent, catechetical skill, pediatrics, ger-ontology, the schooling of exceptional children, liturgical zeal, youth programming, public relations, apostolic en-deavor, mystical bent, and so forth. Gifts of all kinds, specializations, are useful and necessary in the Church in the modern world and are not to be bottled up or hidden. Nor will they function properly if restricted to a loner or a clique. They will dictate the abandoning of some apos-tolates and the assuming of others. Various gifts of the Spirit should enable Christians to work together harmoniously in the Church, for though the gifts are many they are one in the Spirit. In the Decree on the Apostolate of ~he Laity the unity of the apostolate is accentuated, however variously it may ex-press itself: "From the reception of these charisms or gifts, including those which are less dramatic, there arise for each believer the right and duty to use them in the Church and in the world for the good of mankind and for the upbuilding of the Church." ~ Since no one can claim all the gifts, their very diversity can do service in many apostolates and fit together into a fine pattern of apostolic activity. St. Paul wrote about this unity because he himself was faced with the Corinthian quarreling over gifts as though they were held in contention or competition: "There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit, there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord; working in all sorts of different ways in different people, it is the same God who is work-ing in all of them." ~z Whereas Paul had in mind char-isms belonging to individuals, it seems more appropriate to think that nowadays the charisms are diffused among groups of men and women who are willing to pool their capabilities and resort to consultation and con-certed action. The Spirit confers communal charisms as well as individual. Charity, according to Paul, is their unifying factor, and therefore he stresses the fact that charity outranks ~XArticle 3. =1Cor 12:4-6. them all. Charity motivates the recipients of the gifts to employ them for the common good of mankind. Charity too allows us who live in a community to appreciate the variety of gifts distributed among the members, so that each person can be different because of them even when we do not comprehend why he is so gifted or how he is so effective with his gifts. We must leaim to be patient, tolerant, and sensitive to one another, letting another employ his gift(s) as he sees fit as long as he is not misguided in his zeal and effort (how can a so-called charism square with" an otherwise questionable life?).- The function of gifts cannot be legislated in complete detail, nor can everybody in every circumstance abide by such detail. Practical matters simply cannot be regula.ted unanimously. But it may take charismatic courage to say "No" to a trend or policy or spirit which proves to be wrong and damaging to the Church. Egotism sometimes blinds us to the divine goodness in the many splendid achievements, the human values, round about us. Humility, contrariwise, prompts us to behold the marvels of God's grace. Charismatic goodness is to 'be found abundantly in the Church' and society if we would only peel from our eyes the scales of our selfish-ness. We are tempted to look only for the things which suit our fancy. ,At times, no doubt, the charismatic may frighten us or appear threatening because it is novel and catches us by surprise. It may be shocking, and yet upon investigation it may reveal a hidden or unknown contlnmty with something of the past. Liturgical change, for example, may startle today but in itself be a revival of a tradition dating back to the early Church. Charismatic leaders ¯ may be criticized for their bumptiousness or impetuosity; -they may obe called untraditional or subversive; their spirit may be attributed to a yen for change. They and their gifts may meet with contradiction, apathy, sloth, delay, distrust, because not all others discern their true value or the Spirit introducing them into the Church and society. Difficult as it is to sense the Spirit at work among charismatic leaders, it is no less difficult for the charis-matic leaders themselves to be sure of their own inspira-tions and enthusiasms. The uncertainty within themselves is compounded by the opposition they inevitably meet from without. Men like Gandhi, John XXIII, and Martin Luther King, Jr. exemplify the point at hand. We who are caught up .in the crosscurrents sweeping through the Church at the present time easily recognize the signs of opposition. They are like the churning waters left behind by a ship, the wake of its effort to plow ahead through the rampaging sea. + + Signs, Charinm, Apostolates ~OI.UME 27, 1968 777 + ÷ ÷ ]o, seph Fichtner, . . 0.$.~,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 7.78 This opposition is mild in comparison with the re-jection the true apostle has to contend with while follow-ing Christ in the modern world: rejection by his enemies because what he upholds or promotes is hostile to them, and rejection by his own who fail to understand him or his gift(s). The cost of apostleship and discipleship is sul~ering-- the sacrifice of earthly ties, possessions, life itself. What uncompromising zeal is necessary for the disciple as he assumes the cost of his charism. Christ expected His followers to encounter suffering, at least the pain of carrying out the burden or responsibility of a charism.23 It is painful to realize charismatic limitations, painful to be humbled by other charismatic activities which clash with ours. Not all gifts are operative in the Church at the same time, so they will have to bide their time. The important thing to remember is that the charisms meant for the apostolate place their recipients in the service of Christ who was a suffering Servant for His people. Since Vatican Council II considered the religious way of life to be charismatic and apostolic, it is only to be expected that this life should suffer through its current attempts at self-renewal. The charism of the religious founder was the germ of "the original inspiration of a given community," 24 which has to undergo the pain of growth. The retention or modification of that charism which he injected in his community can cause suffering especially when the personal charisms of members are in conflict with it. The Spirit communicates a "spirit" determinative of "the particular character of each com-munity," which can put the community at odds with ecclesiastical authority and occasion large-scale dissatis-faction. 25 Thus the vital principle of a religious com-munity can be at one and the same time the source of its sanctity and the cause for the purification of its orig-inal gift. The most agonizing encounters with ecclesias-tical authority occur in the field of the apostolate, a fact confirmed by contemporary examples. Yet Vatican II admitted it was "by divine plan that a wonderful variety of religious communities' grew up" with "the diversity of their spiritual endowments." 2n This is an admission that the Spirit of Christ communi-cates directly and not necessarily or always through "~ See Lk 14:25-35. ~ Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Lile, Article 2. See M. Olphe-Galliard, s.J., "Le charisme des [ondateurs religieux," Vie consacrge, v. 39 (1967), pp. 338-52. ~Decree on the Bishops' Pastoral O0~ce in the Church, Article 35.2." 28Decree on the Appropriate Renewal oI the Religious Lile, Ar-ticle 1. hierarchical channels. By their initiative and creativity, in accordance with their special gifts, religious com-munities initiate movements which only later may be taken up by authority. Their apostolates lie at the fron-tiers of the Church, supported by the gifts, small and great, of the Holy Spirit. The ultimate norm of the religious life is "a following of Christ as proposed by the gospel." z7 The gospel pic-tures Jesus addressing himself to the J.ews who were accusing Him of blasphemy, speaking of Himself as "someone the Father consecrated and sent into the world." 28 Christ in turn called others to this same ~onsecration and same mission, that is, ap6stolate. They had to give up all things to follow Him. Religious have appropriated to themselves the word spoken by Peter the Apostle: "We have left everything and fol-lowed you." 29 Christ called fishermen and a tax collector to the apostolate: "Follow me.''30 This call to obedience meant adherence to the Person of Jesus Christ and fellowship with Him. Before Christ entrusted any offices to His followers, He established a community among them with Himself at the center; He shaped them into a Christocentric community. The early apostolic life was not motivated by some form of hero worship but by obedience to the Son of God. The Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Re-ligious Life devotes an entire article to a discussion of the apostolate.31 After explaining in Article 5 that the life of religious is "an act of special consecration [to Christ] which is deeply rooted in their baptismal con-secration and which provides an ampler manifestation of it," the decree shows how its basic unity is diversified in two vocations, corttemplative and apostolic. The special consecration can be lived in two ways because of its twofold orientation. Vatican Council II was look-ing at the religious life phenomenologically: it saw therein two principal orientations, one toward con-templation, the other toward the apostolate. The religious apostolate then must stem from the special consecration to Christ; it is an apostolic con-secration. The religious apostolate is not simply a gesture, a sort of outward and incidental manifestation of the love consecrated men and women have for Christ. It is ~ Ibid., Article 2. 's Jn 10:36. =~ Mt 19:27. ~ Mk 2:14. ~ Article 8. See £. Pin, S.J., "Les instituts religieux apostoliques et le changement so¢io-culturel," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 87 (1965), pp. 395-411. ÷ ÷ ÷ Signs, ~Tharisms, Apostolates VOLU~E ~7; i~3 779 ÷ Joseph Fich0t~n.e(~r,. REV[EW FOR RELIGIOUS rather a concrete and unmistakable love expressed in a life '!committed to apostolic works." 32 In Article 8 we read about the "various aspects of the apostolate," how religious groups make diversified con-tributions to the common good of the Church. These contributions, the decree points out, derive from the varieties of gifts given to the groups by the Holy Spirit. The varieties of gifts determine to a large extent, though not fully, the specific apostolic orientation a religious group takes--teaching, nursing, social work, home and foreign missions, and so forth. Although the decree does not refer to it explicitly, it implicitly wants religious to consider the interrelationship of signs of the times, charisms, and apostolates: "Communitie.~ should promote among their members a suitable awareness of contem-porary human conditions and of th~ needs of the Church. For if their members can combine the burn-ing zeal of an apostle with wise judgments, made in the light of faith, concerning the circumstances of the modern world, they will be able to come to the aid of men more elfectively."3a Such studies as psychology, sociology, anthropology, economics, political science, can be the humanistic basis for the charisms to be more under-standing of and productive in the world. In a second paragraph within Article 8 the council links closely two spirits that should dominate each other in the religious life, the religious and the apostolic. Without such interlinking the religious life would suffer and die. The key statement to this effect is the following: "Flence the entire religious life of the rdembers of these communities should be penetrated by an apostolic spirit, as their entire apostolic activity should be ani-mated by a religious spirit." Here we touch upon a delicate point of the spiritual renewal asked "for by Vatican II--the possibility of failure to renew a spirit while changes are made "on behalf of contemporary needs." "Indeed such an interior renewal must always be accorded the leading role even in the promotion of exterior works." a4 Of course it is impossible to set any determinate, calculable hours apart for each, prayer and apostolate, but it is essential to realize that the two go hand in hand. In order to avoid the idea that perhaps apostolic works will lead to the danger of activism, to a self-seeking in the apostolate, to immoderate desire for action, to some sentimental involvement in the lives of others, the council asserted that "apostolic activity should ~ See the first reference in footnote $1. ~ Article 2. ~ Decre~ on th~ ,4ppropriate Renewal o/th~ Religious Life, Arti-cle 2. result from intimate union with" Christ.35 It would not have a Christlike spirit and would be torn from an apos-tolic witness, a body of Christianity without a Heart. The prayer itself of religious should be apostolic. Normally they will make their own the petition in Christ's prayer: "Thy kingdom come"--all the spiritual interests confided to the community. Daily community prayer will embrace all the persons who are in the in-timate care of the community: personnel, students, patients, fellow religious, all who depend upon the community for their spiritual sustenance. Instead of being an evasion of apostolic duty, wrongly inspired by the idea that the community can cure every evil and help everyone with prayer alone, its apostolic prayer will be a catharsis and a strength .for apostolic activity. Its members will not dilute their prayer life with all the worry and anxiety they experience throughout their daily apostolate. Apostolic prayer will be for them a humble and confident conversation with Christ who may find them worthy of His own fiery love for the people His Father committed to Him to redeem. A community closely bound together is prone to feel that its communitarian link conditions its form of presence and activity in the world. Community life of itself is not necessarily opposed to an effective presence and activity in the world. But its members obligate them-selves to live this tension between presence in the world and presence in a community till the' eschatological day when the Church and world will be entirely one. No matter how well they try to regulate their life, there will inevitably be some tension between religious observance and apostolic works, between the structural and the ~harismatic. It would be an easy solution to turn the time for observances into an apostolically disordered life. The regular community observance has apostolic meaning and purpose. Perhaps this tension can be eased by better budgeting and managing of time and service. Better management will help to avoid the two extremes of a rigid formalism on the one hand and a disordered and frantic life on the other. The former is harmful to the apostolate, the latter arouses anxiety or qualms of conscience. All the discussion nowadays against structure and the institutional Church can do harm to what is good and useful of structure and the institutional Church. Some sort of structure and a prudently regulated observance is an indispensable aid to religious life and to the apostolate. To take an example from family life--how much family life remains if members come and go as they Ibid., Article 8. 4- 4- 4- Signs, Charisms, Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 781 ÷ ÷ ÷ $oseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS please without any recourse to a schedule for meals, sleep, work, recreation, and especially to a steady inter-communication? The same holds true for religious life:. a moderate observance is a precious boon to it. On the other hand, observance for its own sake is obnoxious. It is bound to incite a harmful restlessness, to sap energy, paralyze effort, or invite either pharisaical regu-larity or intentional neglect. Vatican II was rather in-sistent that this point of observance be looked into and brought up to date. The decree carefully notes that a high-spirited and level-headed apostolate will itself nurture rather than ruin the love for God and neighbor. The question is, how will it nurture this love? First of all, by putting to rest that old fear of an apostolate, genuine and sincere, somehow detracting from the love of God. The council will go down in history, particularly for its Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, in seeing signs of the times which hold promise of much good for the human community. While speaking of the religious apostolate, it remarks about this same good as the field for religious to harvest. The religious apos-tolate, therefore, will nurture love in two ways: first by peace, secondly by stimulus. Peace will accrue from it because the religious will learn that his effort and fatigue are the sincere and au-thentic expression of his love for God. There is much comfort in knowing, deep down in his heart, that he is doing the will of God in the apostolic task assigned to him and for which his charism suits him. Obedience to an assignment with all the hardship and suffering it entails, is a participation in the obedience of Christ. Christ felt real contentment in the fulfillment of His duty toward His Father. "My food is to do the will of the one who sent me, and to complete his work." 86 At the same time the apostolic religious will be stim-ulated to love more, for the apostolate will impress him with need for fidelity to prayer and to a rule of life. He will recognize at once that any lack of zeal on his part amounts to a lack of love, zeal being the fruit of love. Insufficient love springs from an insufficient union with God. Christ turned to prayer in the midst of a busy apostolate and denied Himself sleep in order to pray often and for long spells. Such prayer instilled in His heart a greater love for souls, greater patience, and more courage. This has been an endeavor to weave together the complementary aspects of the signs of the times, charisms, and apostolates especially as they pertain to religious ~ Jn 4:34. institutes. Religious institutes too, inasmuch as they have a charismatic role in the Church and society, have to examine the signs of the times locally and periodically in order to see what apostolates are open~to them and whether they have the charisms most suited to contem-porary needs. All three--signs of the times, charisms, and apostolates--mesh into a single program of life and work under the guidance o[ the Holy Spirit and in the light o[ faith and charity. Signs, Charisrns, Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 KEVIN F. O'SHEA, C.Ss.R. The "Security Void" + ÷ Kevin F. O'Shea, C.Ss.P., writes from St. Mary's Monas-tery; Wendouree; Ballarat, Victoria; Australia. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Two years ago Dan Herr wrote in The Critic of a "piety void": the deep loss felt by many people since older "devotions" have been downgraded and have lost their force, and the new "liturgy" is not yet meaning-fully established. The "piety void" is only one aspect of the "security void": a deep unhappiness experienced by many, since older "securities" have been challenged and nothing seems to have replaced them. This diagnosis contends that two basic types of security are in conflict: a security of absolute norms, and a security of committed love. It analyses them only in the area of external au-thority and obedience (though it might well take in areas of moral conscience, faith and doctrine, and voca-tional role and ideal). Each of the two "approaches" to security to be out-lined here could claim (and has claimed) roots in St. Thomas. It is necessary to distinguish between theory, translation of theory into experience, translation of experience into inspirational-motif, translation ol in-spirational- moti[ into formula, translation o[ [ormula into a workable living pattern. Any fully developed "ap-proach" to a profoundly human value (like security) includes all five: theory, experience, inspirational-motif, formula, and workable living pattern. Of the two ap-proaches to security to be developed here, the first (the "older") can be considered initially as "fully developed" in this sense; the second ("the modern") cannot. Both could agree at root in the theory of St. Thomas; each then develops a different experience and inspirational-motif; the "older" possesses its clear formulas and work-able living patterns, which are now challenged by the "modern"; the "modern" is not yet equipped with these elements, and for that reason is deprecated by the "older." Here lies the problem of analysis: here lies finally the root of the "security void" itself. A security of absolute norms is the fruit of a rational-ized approach to society. Accepting the common aim and the need for organized action to attain it, the members of a society accept also a human authority that will give it firmness, sureness, stability, and "security" in the I'face of conflicting human attitudes within it. When a superior, in whom such authority is vested, make~ an authoritative precept, it becomes normative for the society; only in obedience to that norm can that society continue with security. Security is conceived as unified and efficiently ordered action; it stems from "managerial authority." When the subjects obey, they conform their practical thought and action to the authoritative precept given them, out of respect for authority and out of love for the well-ordered existence of the society and its "security." Their obedience is intelligent, even rational: it is logical for them to obey, given their commitment to such values. When in fact their theoretical assessment of a situation differs from the dictate of authority, they will then sacrifice the advantage they believe they might bring to the common interest, to the greater good of the unchallenged reign of authority and for the noble end it serves, the societyrs "security." This is no infantile submission to the "will" of a master: it is the manly conformity of those who see greater value in their sacrifice than in their independent achievement. Their con-science is honored; and they have the personal, ful-fillment of being rightly ordered to the values they cherish, rather than the less esteemed fulfillment of mastery through their own pattern of action. At .times, recourse might duly be had to higher authority; but always in the interests of greater security for the com-mon interest. This is the theory; it has been lived in a way that subtly turns authority into something more absolute. It is assumed in'practice that the order ~1: the society to its common aim, its security, and its continued existence, depend on absolute obedience to its authority at all times. Despite the theory (which would allow for the balance of one human law with another, and with natural and divine law, andfor the use of epikeia as a x;irtue and not simply as a legal loophole), visible division from authority in any matter commanded is considered a supreme, scandal and an absolute evil. We suspect here a practical transition from general policies (the principle of respect for authority) to particu-lar details (the absoluteness of this dictate, in which the whole meaning of authority is seen to be at stake); we sus.pe~t a practical equation of what is authorized for the society with what is objectively good (and best) for the society--of the practical .and the theoretical advantages of the society; we suspect even that authority is almost conceived as the end of the society itself. In this way the basic theory has been hardened through experience towards a stress on absolute loyalty to authority at all VOLUME 27, 1768 785 + ÷ ÷ Kevin O'Shea, C.Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS costs, as the~ esprit de corps and inspirational-motif of society. The formulas of the basic theory are read in this sense, and the workable living patterns enshrine it. In practice, then, it is in the "absolute norms" of authority that man finds his security in society. For an "older" generation such unchallenged security alone was possible. This same approach underlies even a mystical view of the Church as the Body of Christ growing to its fullness under the guidance of the Spirit. It is through the charisms that the Spirit rules the Church; and to some He gives the charism of discerning the direction that might be taken with profit; to others He gives the charism of expressing .this conviction publicly; while to the apostolic hierarchy alone He gives the charism of placing God's definitive seal of approval on any plan. It . is through the hierarchy alone that salvation history can finally and authoritatively be formed: the word of the hierarchy is the word of the Lord. When a member of the Church obeys the hierarchy, he acts out of deep reverence for their office and for the divine plan of history in the Church. He thinks it is better for Christ to be revered in His bishops than for Christ to be helped by independent action but dishonored by an apparent. schism between His members. He gives up .what he hitherto thought to be the desire of the Spirit, for the word of the hierarchy, which He authentically knows to be the desire of the Spirit. This is the theory, and it is not hard to see how it has absolutized the practice of obedience in the church. An episcopal command has been regarded as a divinely absolute norm in which alone the Church can continue to live and grow in Christ. The apostolic placer is the will of God and is the security of the Church. It is the absolute norm for a Christian who wants to live in the Church and follow God's plan. We suspect here the root of the attitude of simple acceptance in many of the faithful who look on all pronouncements of ecclesiastical authority as though they were of the same univocal value; we suspect here a certain voluntarism by which God's ideal plan for man in the Church is identified with God's here and now (permissive?) will expressed through the hierarchy. A mystique of security in the Church stems from this lived attitude. A personal approach to community today suggests another kind of security--the "security of committed love." It begins with the axiom that man is a living and loving person. He is called to give himself to others in generosity, sacrifice, and service. In this "self-spending" he really "becomes" a person. There is in man, then, a native instinct (blunted by sin but given new point by grace) to yield, in love, to others whom he serves. It could be called "obedience," but it is not what is strictly and technically described as social obedience. It is prior to the existence or recognition of any social au-thority; it is an intrinsic function of love. It goes far beyond the demands of organization; it is directed to persons not to abstract values. Man then has to live his life in situations in which he experiences in his conscience the call to such love and serf-giving to others. In this call he hears the voice o[ love itself, which is God. In it he recognises the eter-nal law of absolute Love. He needs these situations if he is going to meet this Love and experience its challenge; they channel it to him as "mediations" of Love. He also needs these situations if he is going to respond to this Love and live up to its demands; they are the ambient, the milieu in which he can grow in it. Such human situations, which are. not of man's mak-ing, are in no way opposed to man's love. His love acts, not against them, but within them. As human, his love needs them. The basic situation thus needed is the situation of "personal community." We do not refer, to a community of traditions and practices, or to a community of meth~ ods and pooled skills, but to a community of persons who strive to live together in a. truly personal and serf-giving way. They are a "people" together, a true "comm.unity," blending together their instinctive desire for love and self-giving. Within such a community, the call to Love is heard and answered; the community is the "mediation" and the "milieu" of the eternal law of Love. Love can find itself only within such a community; it is an intrinsically demanded "structure" of love, a permanent, developed, and basic situation of human love. Considerably more is meant here, of course, than what is usually read into the concept of a society, effi-ciently organized to achieve a common aim. In com-munity, persons experience a sense of belon~,tng, of. "being together," of loving together. The integration_ of person with person, of personal attitude and ideal with personal attitude and ideal, as they yield to one another and serve one another and together serve others, is the basic horizon needed for all human life. In this sense, community "serves" man. Within such a community, there is need for celebra-tioh; such real love and togetherness need to be sym-bohzed and feted. Within such a community, there is also need for leadership; such love needs to be given open and significant expression within the community Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 Kevin O'Shea~ REVIEW FOR RELI~IOUS 788 and radiated outward to those who do not yet know it. Such celebrations and leading-actions are the high-points of community life. Without them, the community does not live, symbolically, in the hearts of the persons who form it, and does not supply them with action-situa-tions for ever deeper personal love. The community needs such events, and therefore it needs within it an oOice responsible for assuring their presence. Those who bear this office are rightly considered to have special eminence in the community, and to them the open-ness of all members of the community is especially directed. Those who bear this office are in a real sense the pivots and sttpports of the community-structure which serves personal love. The acceptance, the reverence, and the "obedience" they are given is fundamental to the commitment of community love and transcends the limits of merely social obedience. At the same time, the office we describe is not strictly social authority but something prior to it. If in fact in a given community there is also social authority (and thus also social obedience), they/viii be fully integrated, on their lower level, into these primary values. Authority must spring spontaneously from the community-office of celebration and leadership; obedience must spring spon-taneously from integration into community, availability to the action of the community, and reverent acceptance of those who hold office in the community. It is clear that when in fact such true social obedience is called for, it will possess a unique a~ective tone. It wi!l be an obedience within community love. It will simply pinpoint the readiness to yield which is there in the community prior to any legal precept. It is more a privilege than a duty. There are two major differences between this and the pattern of obedience previously described in the "older" approach. First, it claims the right to integrate the external com-mand into the claims of Love as heeded in conscience and lived in the community. The subject to whom the external authority speaks "hears" the dictate externally and then asks himself what it "means,' to him in his community-conscience, as a moral imperative of Love. He does not assume, absolutely and universally, that every external command will always automatically mean such a demand of Love. He does not assume, absolutely and universally, that always and in every ~case personal sacrifice must be made to the higher role of this authority. He will not grant, beforehand, that' authority is the main thing in a given situation but will assess the claims of authority in relation to the claims Of community love itself. He will'make this assessment as a person, in open-ness with the persons who form his community and hold office and authority in it. He will grant that normally and in many cases authority-claim (legal imperative) will mean community-claim and love-claim (moral imperative): but he will not a priori equate the two. He will grant that he must make his decision in this matter in deep responsibility of conscience, but he will think that such responsibility is part of his duty in a community of this kind. This first point is claiming more than the simple state-ment that a true imperative (legal and therefore moral) can objectively be in point but may or may not be grasped subjectively by a given person in invincible ignorance because of environmental circumstances. It is an expres-sion o[ an attitude to obedience that springs from the inspiration of the community-love theme. In theory it may not be saying more than is said in classic positions concerning epikeia and the balance of laws and incon-veniences, but it is said in the spirit of an experience different from the experience that has concretely inter-preted and presented the classic positions. Whatever our final judgment of it, a new point of view is expressed here. Secondly, by way of balance, in this obedience there is always a willingness to go beyond legal demands and to go beyond the hard and fast line of what is obligatory by authority. It does not like to stop at what must be done; it looks for what can be done. The final criterion of action is not what legal authority says (or does not say); it is what the situation really demands of the conscience of those involved. The external authority and its statement are respected as part of the total situa-tion in which the imperative of conscience is seen and in which it must act, but it is recognized that the total situation may at times and even often require more than the external authority has stated. Such obedience must be recognized as magnanimous: it acts, not in con-straint, but in love. Once again, it is an expression of attitude that is in point here, flowing from the basic inspiration of the meaning of community. In theory, it is saying no more than the classic position says of the primacy of charity over social obedience, the unity of all the virtues in love, and the rights of personal conscience. But it is expressed in a new enthusiasm arising from a new ex-perience. It is a different point of view from the "old." In the concrete the obedience morally recognized by the person in a given situation will be a determination of the tension between the first and second point: be-tween the right of personal integration into his respon-sible community love, and the duty of personal tran-÷ ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 789 ÷ ÷ Kevin O '.SShs.eRa.~ REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS 790 scendence of the limits of an external command. If this resolution were consistently in the direction of ignoring the external command, it would not be authentic to its own inspiration; for it would not be recognizing the genuinely "normative" character of authority in the community.It is not the "norm" that is refused; it is the assumption that the norm is "absolute." When this obedience is given, it is not lacking in the formal motiva-tion of social obedience, for it does yield to authority as such, but within a community context. The real ques-tion is: When this obedience is not given (in the usual form of conformity to the external command), is it objectively defective in the essential moral value of obedience? But the question is not one of theory, as we have repeatedly shown; it is one of interpretation of the "formula" used as a guideline, as a workable living pattern. It is less a question of what is externally done (or not done) on a particular occasion; it is more a ques-tion of what is the psychology behind it and how it could stand with, and not destroy, the genuine psychol-ogy of social obedience. For a person who forms his mind on these personalist lines cannot have a psychological security of absolute norms. He must find a new type of security elsewhere: in the absoluteness of his commitment to Love and to self-giving and to community in the sincerity of his own conscience; in the relative service that he finds for this in the structures of community, with its members, and their offices, and their common acdon. His is the security of committed love and appreciated structures. The "absoluteness" here is genuine but new: it includes the impredictability of human love, and the incalculable progress of providence. This same personalist approach underlies a sense of the Church as the "people" of God, impelled by the Holy Spirit of Love. The Church is a divinely created, supernaturally indefectible home-situation of truly per-sonal love and sacrifice. It is through and in the Church as a community that the voice of eternal Love in Christ comes to the conscience of her members. It is through and in the Church as a community that her members respond to this voice and live their self-gift to others and to Love itself. Ttie Church is being rediscovered as a community; the Constitution on the Church of Vatican II places its chapter on the "people of God" prior to its discussion of the place of the hierarchy within the people of God. The community of the Church is the natural horizon of our love as it is divinized in Christ; the Church in this sense is indeed the pillar and the very "ground" of Love. In this sense she serves the mystery of human love by creating the conditions for it to. be real. In the Church, the hierarchy, vested with the office of liturgical celebration and of missionary ex-pansion of the Church's mystery of love, and vested also with true social authority to rule the people of God, be-comes the pivot and the support of this "ground" of love. This is why the members of the Church, .as they carry each other's burdens and so fulfill the law of love, look on the Church with reverence as their "mother," even when they see her humble limitations. It is not initially a sense of duty and of obedience that binds them to the Church and to the hierhrchy; it is a sense of vocation and of belonging, since they are meant for her and cannot truly love outside of her. "Outside of m~, you can do nothing." This is why the same nuance of obedience enters here within the Church as we noticed on the gen-eral level: the entire problematic of authority-obedience itself serves the deeper problematic of community-love. At pre~ent there is a conflict, within and without the Church, between those who maintain a long established modus vivendi based on and leading to security of ab-solute norms, and those who demand the creation of a new modus vivendi based on and leading to security of committed love. It is certain that the "older" pattern is well established. It is only recently that it has been challenged; and the challenge has been resented, with shock, by the "older" generation. They have experienced a unique insecurity on seeing the very principles of their security openly questioned, on finding the present age disenchanted with the absoluteness of the old ways and seemingly submerged in the pure relativism of love. They have been asked, implicitly at least, to approve patterns of action in others that are completely at variance with their own inner orientation to norm-security and even to accommodate their own mentality and pattern of action to them. They cannot believe that their own generous sacrifice and 'heroic loyalty over a lifetime have been unnecessary and that their conscious foundation of security is chimerical. They tend to harden the "essential" theory of authority-obedience- security, in the language they have always known it, into the one and only workable living pattern they have known and to admit no other. They feel now that the essential props of their security are under attack. It is certain too that the "new" pattern is noble in its inspiration. Because it is noble and even more because it is new, it tends to remain as yet in the order of ideals and even of inspirational "slogans" (for example, "personal fulfillment," the need for "dialogue") and has not yet formed for itself a realistic working pattern. Its ÷ ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 791 + + Kevi~t O'Shea, C.Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS idealism is tender to attack and resents the fact that others cannot understand it but reject it and even regard it as harmful. The "new" generation cannot believe that they ought honestly regard their ideals as unreal and settle for the pseudo-satisfaction of security through absolute norms and legal authority. They tend to stiffen their allegiance to their principles and to be insecure precisely because they know they are not yet accepted or put into practice at community level. It is Strange that precisely here the "new" generation may be rather unfaithful to its own principles. Instead of placing their real security in committed love and self-giving, they seem to insist---immediately---on the security of acceptance in the "older" community; they want their values upheld and identified as legitimate and valid, they want to be understood by others and not thought rebels, they want to be integrated, as they are, into their community's way of life and tradition which they feel that they do not violate but practice in a new way. Would that they have all this; but is it primary to their own principles? At all events, a certain paralysis is taking hold of protagonists of both points of view, which is deepening their insecurity. It happens especially where there has been little attempt at renewal of commonity living structures; where a tradition of legalistic obedience has set up a quasi-divine right of the establishment; where a system of bureaucracy or a veil of anonymity or a pro-tection of prestige has been used to give firmness to the status quo without facing the issues; where a policy of "via media" or of "prudence" is used merely to cover a refusal to do anything; where there is a visible split into parties "for" and "against" the new idealism; where in such mental alienation of one group from another, action comes mainly from party politics, dominant personalities, or emotional enthusiasms created by prop-aganda; where unkind name-slinging is used to make real dialogue and acceptance impossible. Here a critical impasse is soon reached; only the external signs of true community remain. Even those who try to remain tran-quil are misjudged; they are thought insincere in the face of a common anxiety. Men go through the motions of what they have always done, or would wish to do, without the fulfillment that ought to come from it. They live in a "security void." It is made acute when they refuse the obvious dilemma of the situation: rebel or accept. The malaise can be cured by neither; neither by open irreverence, public agitation, mental alienation from the whole situation, refusal to cooperate, invocation of one's rights (from legal authority or from conscience), retreat into one's , I work; nor by timidly coveting up and finding a false refuge in permission (of authority or of conscience), or by the cowardice of giving away all serious attempt at idealism (of whatever form) and settling for no security at all. Those who rightly refuse these false avenues know that they have no anchorage left; they are nonplused and beaten. There is a "credibility gap" between themselves and any founded security, a wavering of trust in asking completely serious questions at all. In this fundamental disillusionment they cease to live in the presence of a liberating truth (since they refuse the falsehood of double truth, one of idealism and another of reality). Their life becomes shallow and superficial, and. their work is not reliable. This is the "security void." This study is a diagnosis, not a solution. It can con, dude with a simple suggestion of seven thoughts, to .be pondered in the present crisis. (1) The theory behind the "new" personalist position is m reality no different from the theory behind the "older" essentialist position. On the general level, it is simply expressing the primacy of the person over society and the primacy of charity over the social virtues. On the particular level, the cases where it might admit a refusal of conformity to the authoritative dictate of a superior can well be reduced to cases already well known in traditional moral theology: epikeia, balance of laws, inconveniences, rights of conscience, and so forth. It is true that the expression given to these cases is new; it is emotive and enthusiastic and thereby tending to more difformity than has been allowed in the older working pattern. But this does not prove the theory is incorrect; it proves only that it is ambiguous in its expression as reduced to a working pattern. It is therefore on the level of that working pattern, in practice, that any incor-rectness should be removed. At least, there is room for real "dialogue" in a theoretical agreement on founda-tions. (2) The spirit of the personalist position, as it is typi-cally expressed at present, does not appear to allow suffi-ciently for the role of social authority within a personal communityi and this defect comes from its idealism. Let us grant thi~ idealism absolutely, but let us remember that we are asking it of men who live in a sin,situation and who carry within themselves profound inclinations contrary to gene.rous and sacrificial self-giving in love. The first evidence of these inclinations is the tendency for groups to isolate within a community and to consider the expressions of love that-correspond to their .own idealism without due consideration of the interests and peculiar form of love of other groups. On the very prin-ciples of total lov~ within the total personal community, .!- ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 793 + ÷ ÷ Kevin O'Shea, .Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS granting the intrinsic weakness of man, there must be some human authority to determine the forms of authen-tic love for all when need arises; and this authority must be conceded a per se place in the community. The typ-ical personalist expositions at present stress the idealism of what man is called to do somewhat at the expense of the necessary regime for its human realization, a vital part of which is authority. It is possible to rethink the meaning of authority as an inner demand of the personal community. In this way, the tendency to conceive an opposition between the expressions of a responsible authority and the inherent claims 9f love and conscience will weaken; at least, a better balance between the two will be achieved in practice, and in due time the formnlas and the working patterns will be rightly adjusted. (3) But if sin has abounded, grace has abounded even more. In assessing the present situation, we may reason-ably judge that mankind is on the threshold of a sig-nificant evolution in its living experience o[ community and of the meaning of personal love. We must not poison the wells of this inspiration. We must therefore admit, in theory and in practice, that the older static unchal-lenged working pattern of community must also evolve to be more in accord with the new inspiration. Any at-tempt to pin one's security finally in the unchanged positions of old is doomed to failure. To back down before the challenge of the present in the name of the weakness of human nature, which needs a lower stand-ard, is a practical denial of the triumph of grace. (4) This evolution in the living of community-love must of its nature be slow: "i(ll great matters must come to ripening slowly" (Congar). Those who live through the present transition and cause it must have a peculiar patience: a deep-rooted existential conviction that history is slowly changing through the measured pace of their lifetime. To the extent that their love and self-giving is really great, it will have the patience of the times, seconding and not subverting the dynamism by which God is bringing His gracious design to com-pletion in His own manner. It is perhaps in this fidelity to what is perceived as the bvolving character of provi-dence, that a genuine security can be found. Paradox-ically, it is~ patience that engenders hope, and not the reverse! (5) If social authority can and must be given a place de se in the personal community, it can and must also be found a special place de facto in the currently evolving form of personal community. Our original frailty is showing itself in a new facet: our inability to assure the tranquil passage from the older order to the new, evi-denced in the intransigence of some and the impetuosity of others, and the imprudence of all. There is need of a new awareness of humility if we are to engage correctly this exciting and dangerous transition of history. And there is need for,,social authority to recognize a new responsibility: that of assisting, with its own power of juridic firmness, the pattern of change and of progress from one order to the other. In the exercise of this office, social authority will slowly commend itself more truly to the humility our times must learn. (6) St. Thomas once described .the effects of human law as disciplina et pax. No doubt, he envisaged these mightly mysteries in the static culture of his day; but they remain valid, and needed, in the day of dynamic evolution of human living forms that is ours. Our current emergence to greater times must not be turbulent but tranquil; and the tranquility we need we must learn. We can only learn it if all those who make up the human community at present, "old" as well as "new," play their proper roles together. An "o]-der" point of view is neces-sary today to show the new inspiration, which it accepts at root, the realistic way to find its own survival. A "new" point of view is the soul of the upsurge, and its cry is for a love and a self-gift to all; it is necessary that it learn the peace of the future by establishing its own peace in the present, by accepting "togetherness" with those who do not yet appreciate its value and teaching them by deeds what it has not succeeded in communi-cating to them in words. The most unusual trait of the "new order" of love is that it can be created by real love in ariy conditions; it does not depend on special structures or circumstances but relies on its own dyna-mism. If it is to have more desirable conditi6ns in .the future, it must learn to give its own peace to those of the present. (7) Finally, those involved in this development, which means all of us, should be big enough to overlook mis-takes in detail for the greatness of the cause. We must become conscious of who we are in our times and in history; we must live with a sense of our call to the greatness of love together. In this sense, we must know not a "security void" but a "security fulfillment." + ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUNE.27, 1968 PAUL MOLINARI, S.]. Renewal of Religious Life according to the Founder's Spirit Paul Molinari, s.J., writes from Borgo Santo Spirito, 5; Rome 00100, Italy. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 796 In presenting these few thoughts, I should like to clarify some theological points which have not, I believe, been sutticiently understood when we speak of a return to the origins of each religious institute. The conciliar decree Perfectae caritatis insists on a life of union with Christ, leading us to consider Him not only as the exemplar of the life of a religious but as the very form of this life.I think that this aspect has not been sufficiently stressed, because the wealth of mean-ing of certain rich but very concise expressions of the decree has not been adequately understood. The decree deliberately avoids detail in order not to bind religious life to concrete forms, identical for all, which would pre-vent it from developing freely in Christ. Rather, it sought above all to emphasize that we must make an ef-fort to conceive and live our religious life as one of donation to Christ, in which we must share His way of livin~g, His spirit. Hence the insistence on a supernatural principle. W~ must always keep in mind that the mis-sion of the Church is a continuation of the mission of Christ and that the mission of Christ is specifically su-pernatural. We must realize, therefore, that in order to participate in the mission of Christ, in order to continue it, we must of necessity adopt His criteria. It is pre-cisely a question of a gift of life--the Word made flesh in or,der to give supernatural life, divine life, to man. Participation in the life of Christ is what gives vitality to the Church. Participation in the redeeming sacrifice is what gives life to man. It is the sacrifice of Christ giving His life for the Church that ought to lead re-ligious to give their life for the Church, that is, for the supernatural good of all of the People of God, for a more abundant communication of divine life to the entire fam-ily of man. I insist on this point precisely because today there is, at times, a tendency to stress almost exclusively the necessity of adapting the exterior apostolate and of bringing it into line with the possibilities offered by modern technological society or to concentrate almost exclusively on the social apostolate of the Church. We must not forget, however, that Christ's apostolate is not only, nor even principally, a social apostolate but a supernatural apostolate: the communication of divine life. This presupposes that we can and often ought to see to the material needs of man and interest ourselves in serious and pressing questions of social justice, but our apostolate does not stop there. We must above all consider the supernatural value of religious life as such, the value of this self-donation which, even though it may remain unperceived, attains something very precious for others on a supernatural level precisely because it is a donation, a sacrifice of self, In this context, I would like to point out that we tend too easily to overestimate the criterion of exterior effi-cacy and of visible success. Is it not true that, when Christ died on the cross, the efficacy of this sacrifice of His entire life could not be seen? It is important to emphasize this at a time when the profound value of self-donation is being called into question precisely be-cause so little is said about the guiding principle of the Lord in His apostolate. Moved by the Spirit, He spent Himself, He delivered Himself on the cross. That is the force of the Spirit. We find ourselves here in the realm of faith. In the light of faith we begin to understand the value of a life hidden in Christ, of a life of im-molation, a life of love, a life which gives up its life for others--and nothing is more beautiful than to lay down our life for others. The ultimate solution to the crisis in contemporary religious life can be found in the realization of religious life as a life of self-donation. Not that religious life should lead merely to the interior life. On the contrary, it will lead us to a great activity; it must express itself exteriorly but in such a way that it is supernatural in character. It is along these lines that we can find a solution to today's problems, particularly those concerning the social apostolate. At this point, I quote those beautiful phrases contained in the decree Per[ectae caritatis: Fired by the love which the Holy Spirit pours out in their hearts, they live their lives ever increasingly for Christ and for his Body which is the Church. Consequently, the more fervent their union with Christ through this giving of themselves, which includes the whole of their lives, the richer the life of ÷ ÷ ÷ Founder"s Spirit VOLUME 27, 1968 797 REVIEW FOR RELIG~OU5 798 the Church becomes and the more fruitful her apostolate (n. 1). The gospel brings out that the characteristic note of Christ's mission was His docility to the Holy Spirit. I think that this is why the decree insists so much~ on the Holy Spirit, His action in the Church and in the soul of founders. If Christ, the head of the Church, began His mission led by the Spirit, the Incarnation itself being the work of the Spirit, the Church, which is the Mysti-cal Body of Christ, likewise ought to be docile to the Spirit. The Church, as such, tries to be so, and she has the permanent assistance of the Holy Spirit, her soul: Christ, having been lifted up from the earth, is drawing all men to himself. Rising from the dead, he sent his life-giving Spirit upon his disciples and through this Spirit has established his body, the Church, as the universal sacrament of salvation. Sitting at the right hand of the Father, he is continually .active in the world, leading men to the Church and through her joining them more closely to himself and making them par-takers of his glorious life by nourishing them with his own body and blood. Therefore, the promised restoration which we are awaiting has already begun in Christ, is carried forward in the mission of the Holy Spirit, and through him continues in the Church (Lumen gentium n. 48). In virtue of the same principle, each member of the Church should likewise follow the motions of the life-giving Spirit. We are touching here on one of the most fundamental principles of the religious life and of the Church. As the conciliar document Perfectae caritatis says, the Holy Spirit has raised up in the Church men and women who founded religious families. These souls were called to a providential mission in the Church and were particularly docile to the action of the Holy Spirit: Indeed from the very beginning of the Church men and women have set about following Christ with greater freedom and imitating him more closely through the practice of the evangelical counsels, each in his own way leading a life dedi-cated to God. Many of them, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, lived as hermits or founded religiou~families, which the Church gladly welcomed and approved by her authority. So it is that in accordance with the Divine Plan a wonderful variety of religious communities has grown up which has made it easier for the Church not only to be e~u!pped for every good work and ready for the work of the mlnxstry--the build-ing up of the Body of Christ--but also to appear adorned with the various gifts of her children like a spouse adorned for her husband and for the manifold Wisdom of God to be revealed through her (Perfectae caritatis, n. I). The Spirit who led Christ is the same Spirit who leads those who are united to Christ and in whom, as with docile instruments, He can more freely carry on the salvific mission of communicating divine life to His Church and to all mankind. With these theological principles in mind, it is easier to understand that while the. cardinal point of renewal is the Gospel and total, unconditional surrender and consecration to the redeem-ing Christ, another is precisely the docility and fidelity of members of a religious institute to the spirit of their founder. Actually, the mission of Christ is not yet completed; it continues in the Church which must remain faithful to His inspiration. This is why charismatic graces, that is divine inspirations given in view of certain apostolic necessities, continue to be given to the Church. These graces are evident in a special way in all those who have truly given their heart to the Lord and who, without setting any conditions or limits, allow themselves to be guided by God, that is to say the saints and those great charismatic leaders, the founders and foundresses of re-ligious families. But while this action of the Holy Spirit is particularly visible in the soul of founders, it does not stop with them. The same Spirit, wishing to continue the mission that He has entrusted to the founders ~for the sake of the Church, acts in the soul of each member of the People of God and calls some of them to follow our Lord and dedicate their lives to the institutes established by these holy men and women. It is as i£ the Holy Spirit sent a ray of light which filled the soul of: the founder. This ray continues on, through the founder, until it reaches the soul of those who are called to a certain religious family. It is a ray of light which has its own particular characteristics and limitations. It is thus that institutes receive a specific mission from the Holy Spirit. For this reason there is a variety of institutes in the Church, which are all necessary. And the Holy Spirit inspires and continues to inspire the members of all religious families but in different ways, according to their specific task in the Church. It is in this sense that St. Paul, while dealing with the Mystical Body, speaks of the di-versity of functions within the Church; and there is no doubt that this variety is very good for the Church. It is extremely important, therefore, that religious know what the authentic spirit of their founder or foundress is and that they share it consciously. This is what the Council intended when it invited religious, especially in view of the renewal of their life, to discover anew the riches of this spirit and to find life-giving in-spiration in it. For that reason, the motu proprio Ec-clesiae sanctae says it is essential for each religious family to study the sources and to go down to the real roots of their institute. It is, therefore, indispensable in 4- VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ Paul Molinari~ $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8OO the preparation for special chapters charged with putting into practice the Council's teachings and directives, to engage in serious and searching study concerning the charism of the founder or foundress and to discover new depths concerning the authentic inspiration which gave birth to any given institute. It is obvious that in many cases a good number of studies have already been made on this precise point, and these studies can and ought to be judiciously used. It would be an error, nevertheless, to limit such research to an analysis of these studies, because each generation has its own sensitivity, its own special g~ace for discovering certain accents, and is struck by elements which previous generations prob-ably knew of but did not make use of with the same de-gree of explicit understanding. What happens in biblical exegesis and in the authentic evolution of dogma and theology is likewise true of the progressive understanding of what the Holy Spirit wished to start with founders and continues, through their mediation, throughout the ages in the institutes which He raised up in the Church. Precisely because we are dealing here with an interven-tion of God Himself in the history of the Church and of an initiative that He wishes to prolong and renew, not only today but also in the future, it is imperative that this search for the true spirit of a founder or foundress be done with complete objectivity. In no way is it permis-sible to base such a study on feelings or on interpreta-tions and intuitions which are more or less subjective. Reverence for the work of God in the soul of the founder as well as reverence for the divine vocation by which we were called to become a member of our religious in-stitutes requires that we remain humbly open to God's light. In no way should we try to make the divine grace given to the founder coincide violently or arbitrarily with our limited personal ideas. On the contrary, the action of the Holy Spirit in the soul of the founder ought to be our point of reference ]n examining our own way of thinking and acting. Much is being said today about the discernment of spirits. But this is exactly what the Church has been concerned with in regard to founders. We have the as-surance that they were acting under a charismatic im-pulse. We, in turn, participate in this same impulse to the degree that we are faithful to the grace which called us to our religious family, and that we let it de-velop and grow in us. It must be noted in this context that while the Church invites us to recognize loyally the spirit of our origins, she does not at all exclude the possibility that this spirit may find different expressions throughout the .ages. There is a tendency, at times, to identify the spirit of the founders with their works. But the spirit gave life to a work; it determined its beginning. It can happen that, as time passes, a work, begun with an intention largely determined by the needs and circumstances of the age and place in which the founder lived, has changed. In present day conditions, it may no longer b~ possible to continue these same works or, due to exterior circum-stances, to carry them on in the same way as when they were begun. Fidelity to the letter can thus become in-fidelity to the spirit of the founder. In other words, it is not sufficient simply to make an historical catalog of our works. We must try to see them, spiritually and integ-rally,~ from the inside, in order to seize the inspiration which animated the founder when he acted. It is only if we succeed in grasping this profound inspiration that we shall find, at the same time, that true fidelity to the founder which the Church is asking usa to preserve in deciding what adaptations are to be made. If the spirit of the founder is a living reality to us, we shall likewise be able to formulate it adequately in modern language, fully in accord with the contemporary situation. To be truly faithful, we must go to the very heart of the mat-ter, that is, go to the very root of the reasons why the founder acted and discover the ultimate criteria of the choices he made. We must not be content with discover-ing what the founder did; we have to discover why, whether we have grasped the inner inspiration. While reflecting so openly and clearly on this essen-tial principle, I want to make a brief point dictated by charity, justice, wisdom. It is well known that on the occasion of special chapters in all religious institutes, there is an atmosphere of unrest among truly generous religious who are loyal both to the Church and to their institute. This uneasiness is ultimately caused by an in-adequate understanding of the principles which have just been stated. On the one hand, there are religious who do not understand clearly enough that the concrete expression of the identical spirit of the founder c/m, and even ought to change according to the circumstances and mentality of succeeding generations. Every innovation, consequently, seems' to them to be a departure from the authentic spirit of the founder and, as such;' inadmissi-ble. On the other hand, there are also religious who, with a certain naivet~ which is no less serious, proclaim loudly that only the present generation has discovered the true spirit of the founder and that former genera-tions did not understand it at all. The mutual error of these two tendencies is simply that they both think that one, and only one, generation can discover once and for all what the authentic spirit of the founder is, exhaust the wealth of its possibilities, and determine defi'nitively 4, 4, Fou~w~$ ,Sp~r~g " VOLUME 27, 1968 4" 4" 4" Paul Molinari, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8O2 all possible authentic expressions of this spirit. But, as we have already said, such a conception errs by not taking into account human limitations and historical sense. Each generation of religious has its own strong points and its own deficiencies, it own profound intui-tions as well as its own task. It is precisely along these lines, with the greatest reverence and objectivity, that each generation of rel.igious should look towards the authentic origins of their institute and delve into the heritage of its founder's authentic inspiration. In this process of humble and reverent seeking, which is at the same time both painful and liberating, each generation should make the charism of the founder and the in-stitute their own. Each generation, through prayer, med-itation, and study, should seek to find out, according to the spirit of the founder, what ought to be kept or abandoned in the present day. As can be seen, this work is both very necessary and very delicate, requiring hum-ble and utter abnegation. But if we understand that the true patrimony of the Church and the task of renewal are at stake, we shall not be afraid to renounce personal points of view or preferences in order to go wherever the Holy Spirit may lead us. Experience teaches us, moreover, that such a return to the authentic origins of an institute is not only possible but also extraordinarily fruitful. There is immediately a very keen and positive reaction when anyone speaks with competence to religious men and women about the documents left by their founder or about his life. I am sure that we have all already experienced this. Can it be explained in any other way except by the fact that men-tion was made of something that the Holy Spirit had already put in the heart of these religious? If they are put into direct contact with the sources of their institute, they explicitly find in them what they were formerly more or less conscious of and which had led them to one particular religious family and not another. The Spirit of God gives a certain sort of interior spiritual sensitivity and a spontaneous inclination towards the spirit of the founder and its authentic manifestations. If religious are brought into direct contact with the spirit of the founder, they are moved to ever greater generosity and immediately pass to a higher plane. Many people can thus be helped to overcome their difficulties, precisely because the very root of their life has been touched. It goes without saying, moreover, that this life-giving con-tact with the authentic inspiration of the founder greatly facilitates responsible adaptation to conditions and cir-cumstances of time and place. This is obviously the reason why the conciliar decree Per[ectae caritatis de- clares that any adaptation ought to come forth as a pre-cious fruit of interior renewal, that is of a return to the gospel and to the authentic spirit Of. the founder. Let us now say a word about the concrete manner of proceeding in this extremely delicate and important matter. Experience seems to bear out the following: Af-ter the religious have been informed of work done on the sources and after they have been invited to meditate on the different aspects of renewal and even to give their opinions in writing, it is a good practice to gather to-gether those who have showed special interest in the subject, especially those who likewise have a good scien-tific preparation. Ask them to study the documents and everything that has been done previously in the way of research and analysis in order to bring to light the outstanding elements, that is, those which recur con-stantly in the thought of the founder. The outcome will not all be the same because each one has his own per-sonality and way of looking at things; but by comparing the results, a sufficiently objective view will be obtained which will permit the characteristic elements of the life and thought of the founder to be isolated. These in turn will help orient the work of renewal. When it is time to rewrite the constitutions, they can be based on the discoveries made, without fear of changing or modi-fying illegitimately the thought of the founder which these objective studies will have brought out more clearly. The next step is to compare these results with the life, constitutions, and works of today. This will be rela-tively easy if the fundamental points have already been clarified. The various editions of the constitutions, pro-mulgated at different stages in the history of the in-stitute, should be examined to see what elements have been forgotten or not sufficiently emphasized. This type of research can contribute notably to a greater direct knowledge of the sources and will bring to light again the true thought of the founder. If this research is car-ried on according to these objective criteria and is al-ways inspired by theologically and spiritually sound principles, a naive desire of change for the sake of change will be avoided. On the contrary, if changes are necessary or opportune, they will be made without great interior difficulty because all will see more clearly what Gods wants of us and how. He is asking us to mani-fest our fidelity to the authentic spirit of the founder. It is equally obvious that, in the same way, we can more easily avoid those distressing internal divisions among members of the same institute since all will have the conviction that the changes proposed are based on a ÷ ÷ ÷ Founder's Spirit VOLUME 27 19e,8 80,~ , 4. .4. Paul Molinari~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8O4 common desire to correspond fully to what is under-stood to be the true spirit which gave rise to the in-stitute and its authentic charism. In the same way,-it will likewise be easier to decide What changes must be made in the exterior life and even in the works of the institute. We say that it will be easier, because when it comes to works, there are naturally other problems which are generally very seri-ous and which cannot be naively ignored. But I am con-vinced that if, first of all, everyone is in agreement on the essential lines of renewal according to the spirit of the founder, courage will more easily be found when all are working together in the solidarity of a chapter. If, for example, the members of a chapter 'clearly see that today certain works no longer correspond to what the founder wanted in his day, it should be easier /or the chapter to take clear and decided decisions, without causing profound dissensions, without sidestepping the solution and without leaving all the most serious deci-sions to the sole authority of the superior general and. his council. Would it not be better for the chapter, which truly represents the institute, to take essential decisions, basing them on a greater knowledge of the spirit and charism of the founder and his work, and thus tracing the way for times to come? In answer to Christ's call, religious left all things to ,follow Him, that is, to go with Christ wherever He wishes to go. It seems evident that Christ wishes to go where the needs are the most urgent. One of the things that we would do well to consider when we speak of union with Christ in the religious life is that it is not simply a question of going out to the poor but of leaving all things, and following Christ in a spirit of donation and complete availability. This can sometimes mean leaving well established works that are running well but which, having reached the point where they do run well, no longer need us. In such cases, led by the spirit of the founder, we should go where social condi-tions are more or less similar to those that prompted the founder to act in his day. It is then that we have truly vital contact with the authentic spirit of the founder. In a certain sense, it can be said that where this spirit adaptatioh is' found, religious live in closer union with the spirit of the founder. Indeed, when, as it were, the very soul of the founder has been refound, there is no crisis in religious life and vocations are not lacking. It is clear that those souls who have followed their founder .most closely have found, under the motion of the Holy Spirit, what they were seeking. Naturally, it would be absurd to maintain that all present-day works of religious should be abandoned or that all need to be adapted or again that all changes should be made instantly. We must, however, have the courage to face these questions honestly and to solve them with the same courage that characterized the action of founders, the courage of the saints. It is worthwhile meditating, in this light, on the fol-lowing words of His Eminence, Cardinal Agagianian, Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith: Evolution has considerably modified the physiognomy of Christianity and the sign value of this type of Institution. Where formerly there were charitable works to answer press-ing social needs there is now state socialization or the national-ization of an entire sector. If this has not been done yet, it is at least the intention of young governments and is being planned by large official international organizations. Are not our institutions, which were begun with such generosity and which answered such authentic social needs, now anachronistic, technically .surpassed, not viable financially, lacking true Christian witness value since other official organisms which are better equipped have taken charge of this sector? We must therefore avoid duplication, useless waste, unequal competi-tion, and rethink our activity, which must be missionary to the greatest possibl~, degree and carried on in the light of an apostolic vision which is more freshly evangelical. It is a ques-tion of discovering the true exigencies of the hour, of estab-lishing priorities, and of effectuating our own "reconversion" by turning to work which is doubtlessly socially less spectacula~ but which is more specifically a work of the Church, a work which is directly missionary in scope and character. At the present time, religious must be very open to the grace of the Spirit in order to follow Christ effectively and continue His mission. We should all clearly un-derstand that the charismatic grace given to the founder and his institute is a call from God, a talent which has been confided to us. God asks that the talents He gives be well used. We must not be afraid to make them fructify. Such a fear should never paralyze our generosity and our donation to Christ. It is therefore not enough, necessarily, to keep works just as they are. They must be made to bear the greatest amount of fruit possible. How can this be done? That is where the difficulty lies. It is certainly not permissible simply to keep the capital. If the apostolic return amounts only to 2% or 3%, we must ask ourselves if this capital could not be used in a better way. If we consider the exigencies of the Lord, we can more calmly envisage the fact that the decisions to be taken will sometimes lead to very serious changes, but we must accept them in a spirit of love and fidelity to the true charism of the founder and his work. But we must consider more specifically and more ex-plicitly the ecclesial dimension of our personal vocation as well as the vocation of our institute. The institute is part of the Church and it has a specific function within ÷ ÷ ÷ the Church. It is a living part of the Church and it will have life insofar as it accepts its function for the sake of the Church. This will help us to penetrate more and more into our vocation of being available for the service of Christ and His Church. We will experience the joy of giving life, the consciousness of being the grain of wheat which falls to the ground and dies, and to bear fruit a hundredfold. Problems will find their solution in this deeper vision of religious life as a life of union with Christ in order to continue, in Him and with Him, His mission of communicating divine life to man. 4, ÷ Paul Molinad~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 80fi SISTER M. DENIS, S.O.S New Trends in Community Living Something which has existed since the beginning, that we have heard, and we have seen with our own eyes; that we have watched and touched with our hands: the Word who is life-- this is our subject. That life was made visible; we saw it and we are giving our testimony, telling you of the eternal life which was with the Father and has been made visible to us; we are telling you so that you too may be in union with us, as we are in union with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. --1 John 1: I-3 In* these opening lines of John's First Epistle, he is trying to translate into a multiplicity of feeble human concepts and words, Life itself which is not many but one, not a thing but a person--the triune Person of the Godhead. When discussing the "new trends in commu-nity living" with you, I shall attempt to follow the exam-ple of John. Words are a very necessary component of human communication, but nevertheless annoying. As soon as we describe a reality we break it into parts and tend to give the impression that if every part described is present, we have the reality itself. Rather, the reality of community that I hope to translate into practical and concrete terms, is not composite but one--permeated with the dynamism of that divine incarnated union John spoke of. Unfortunately, that dynamism cannot be put into Words; it must be lived and experienced. Therefore, the approach in this paper will be experi- * This is the text of an address given in May, 1968, to a meeting of Canadian major superiors. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Denis, S.O.S., writes from 62 Hargrave St.; Winnipeg 1, Mani-toba; Canada. VOLUME 27, 1968 80~ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Denis~ $.0.5. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 808 ential and practical and not a rephrasing of the excellent literature on community with which you are familiar. First, we shall examine the bases or principles upon which community is created, investigate the trends evi-dent in community living today, attempt to describe the type of community life that is unfolding from these trends, and propose some practical ways of effecting the transition from the present structures of community life to that form toward which we are evolving. Rather than burden you with another definition of community, I would prefer a descriptive approach. We are well aware of the different kinds of communities that exist among men. There is the natural community of the family and the artificial or contrived community of the organization, society, or state. All too often, we have described the religious com-munity solely in terms of one ot~ these two societies: our terminology of mother, father, brother, sister, reflects the familial concept; and our highly structured religious corporations betray the organizational concept. Al-though religious community can benefit from aspects of these two basic human groupings, we must with deep faith live the essence of religious community as an en- Spirited or Spirit-filled community: "Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you, so that the world may believe it was you who sent me" (Jn 17:21). To the individual person who has embraced the re-ligious life, what then is community? I enter community so that I may begin to gift myself to others, to give the life I have to another, and to re-ceive from them in the same way; and this transmitting, this sharing of life, of wholeness is carried over into my apostolate. This life is given and received in faith be-cause the life or dynamism of community that permeates it is not my own--it is the life of the Spirit, the Spirit of Christ who shows us the Father; my gift to God-~a gift which has come from Him in the first pIace--is to give life to others by the life that is in me. True community, therefore, is created, not structured or legislated. PRINCIPLES The principles or bases upon which an en-Spirited community is created must be grasped, not only intel-lectually, but also experientially by every member in the community, although not necessarily to the same extent or depth. None of these principles stand alone; rather they are interdependent and interrelated. Trinitarian The ultimate model of en-Spirited community is the trinitarian life as it is lived by Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We have heard this so often that we tend to dis-miss it as another cliche. What does it mean in actual practice? It means that each person in community must be and do what God Himself through Christ and in the Spirit is and does: namely, He gathers, unites, establishes communion. How? By communication. Supportive words, other means of communicating love give life to another, as the Father begets His Son, the Word. This gift to one another and the response from one another engenders love--the Spirit. It is at this point where Trinity and en-Spirited community merge. ~lgape. If this trinitarian love-life is incarnated and experi-enced, the cohesive bond in community is the living agape of Christ, not the force of rule or custom. We must have the courage to examine and question the place of rule in religious life. In actual fact, which has frequently taken precedence---our holy rule or the gospel? The experience of agape is an entirely new human ex-perience. It is this gift of God--the Spirit. Pagans could only look at the early Christian community and exclaim: "See how these Christians love one another." But the words "love" or "charity" are, at best, a weak transla-tion. Agape is the knowledge and love of God--that very dynamism of the Trinity itself--which, through a free gift of God, has been incarnated, embodied in human community--a Spirit-filled community. Peace and joy, in which are contained all the other fruits of the Spirit, characterize such a religious community. The ultimate expression of agape is the love feast itself--the Eucharist. The en-Spirited or agape community is effected by the liturgy--when members are conscious of communicating or uniting themselves together in Christ. In turn, their liturgical expression is intensified by their community life. Incarnational Spirituality In order that community reflect trinitarian life or agape--which are different expressions of the same real-ity- the spirituality upon which it is based must be truly incarnational. Again we are back to the importance of faith. If the Son of God, the Word, became flesh, be-came incarnate, then the world, the whole world is "shot through with the grandeur of God," as Hopkins wrote. We cannot arbitrarily determine which particular ma-terial signs signify the presence of Christ; this is an in-sidious form of idolatry. Worse still, we cannot attempt first to establish a relationship with the transcendent God and then go out to other people. Because of the Incarnation, the transcendent God has been revealed to + ÷ Community Living VOLUME 27, 1968 809, ÷ ÷ Sisger M. Denis, $.0.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 us precisely as immanent. This immanence is continued in the world through the gift of the Spirit. The experi-ence of agape, the witness of a Spirit-filled community, is the experiential embodiment of this transcendence. In community agape we realize the fullness of the In-carnation. Respect for the Integrity of the Individual Person Community is not achieved through uniformity; but in practice our preoccupation with uniformity often militates against that respect for tl~e integrity of the individual person so necessary for the developme.nt of an en-Spirited community. This respect involves accept-ance first of ourselves as we are--not as we would like to be. We must risk taking off our masks, not only to others, but also to ourselves, and be truly authentic. I never realized what a mask the traditional habit could be until a few summers ago at the Superior's Conference in Portland, Oregon. During the day we walked around very conscious of religious decorum and dignity. When the magic hour of 2:00 p.m. struck, we converged on the swimming pool. As each layer of clothing came off, the person emerged. This respect [or the integrity of the person involves acceptance ot another in the same way---as they are and not as we would like them to be. If we love only those who share our ideas, our thoughts and aspirations, then we are merely loving an extension of ourselves. We must love what is truly the other--in which there is nothing of oneself. This acceptance is a respect based not on toleration or on charity or even because we see Christ in another; rather this respect is based on the unique dignity created in that person by God Him-self. Often we bypass this unique dignity for "good and noble reasons." Our acceptance and love should always be based on the person, not dependent on their actions. This is a great danger in community life, where we do 'not have the natural ties of blood as in the family and where much stress is placed on uniformity. Community, as we have been describing it, is not necessarily the common life. This communal acceptance involves a sharing, an openness with one another dictated not on my terms but by the other person's real needs for growth. In listening to the conversation of some religious I get the impression that self-fulfillment is selfishness, not selflessness. We only"receive when we give. And very often giving hurts. Serf-fulfillment is the very mystery of the death-resurrection of Christ incarnated and re-peated in the lives of men and women. Originality, Creativity The external structures of the en-Spirited community --structures which may take many and varied forms according to times and places--should always leave room for the development of originality and creativity among its members. I am merely stating in concrete terms the theological problem of institution versus charism. Spontaneous .4 ction Closely related to the need for originality and crea-tivity is the need for spontaneous action in community. A few years ago I read an examination of conscience in which was the question: "Have I organized myself so intensely that I have no time for spontaneous generos-ity?" We might well ask the question on the com-munal level. Is our day so laid out, charges so spelled out, that members function as automatons--cheerfully perhaps, but not spontaneously? Responsibility Finally, true community fosters responsibility, the ability to respond. Men and women can come to good-ness only through a knowing and free choice. The other side of the coin is a sharing in the authority on which responsibility depends; and this authority, in turn, is derived, from the community. Members are responsible to one another personally and to the group collectively. The religious or Spirit-filled community, therefore, is based on the agape-life of the Trinity as incarnated among men. Its growth and development depends upon the respect for the integrity of the individual person with the necessary correlatives of personal authenticity and acceptance. Desirable structures permit and foster originality, creativity, responsibility, and spontaneous action both individually and collectively. CURRENT TRENDS With these principles in mind we shall now attempt to describe the current trends among religious in Can-ada, trends which will affect community living. These trends were gleaned from the recent reports of the eight round-table discussion teams which were organized across Canada by the Canadian Religious Congress to contribute to a survey of religious life. In this era of post-Vatican II, we are coutinually reminded to be alert to the signs of the times, to significant indications or movements in a parti.cular direction. Whether the trend be evaluated as good or bad, as desirable or un-desirable, it remains, nevertheless, the voice of the Spirit speaking to us. Discernment of the message is not as easy as discernment of the trend. 4. ÷ Community Living VOLUME 27, 1968 811 Sister M. Den~s, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ,4 ttitudes Very evident is the evolution of new and more posi-tive attitudes among religious. In relation to the in-stitution, there is a greater respect for the person and the charisms of the individual. Religious place a priority of being over seeming, of the person over the actions. The false dichotomy between body and soul is diminished. A new appreciation for the "world" which has lost many of its former negative connotations is evidenced in an understanding of eschatology as be-ginning here below in the form of earthly happiness. Therefore, there is less stress on the'negative aspect of sacrifice and a grea~er emphasis on a joyful, more positive asceticism. Resurrection, not death is predomi-nant. There is a tendency to diminish the artificial distinction between the natural and the supernatural. Thus, the religious sees his or her dedication to Christ and to mankind as one. This unifying trend involves a rejection of the logical distinction between the transcend.- ent God and the immanent God, where the existential is concerned. Spirituality The incarnational spirituality that has evolved from these attitudes integrates human values and identifies "human experience" and the "experience of God." God is encountered .at work in the world present in and through human realities. Throughout the entire study there was evidence of a strong trend toward assuming a more personal responsi-bility for one's life of faith involving a renewed self-commitment. Thins desire for personal responsibility and the previously mentioned attitudes have strongly in-fluenced the trends in the prayer life of Canadian re, ligious today. In the search for new and authentic forms of prayer, none of the traditional forms have escaped honest scrutiny. Although religious believe in the necessity of prayer, the form or expression of this prayer is radically changing, primarily due to a new understanding of prayer in which there is no separation between prayer and action. Looking upon everything as prayer, especially encounter with others, was a very pronounced trend. Therefore, religious desire more freedom in their prayer life--with a structural minimum that gives more consideration to personal needs, that encourages authenticity, and that is adapted to the rhythm suited to the life each one is leading. The daily obligation for Mass is. questioned because of the need for' respecting the personal spiritual rhythm of the religious. In the celebration of the Eucharist, the re- ligious insist less on the idea of sacrifice and more on the notions of communion and gathering. There is an increased trend toward community encounter in the Eucharist within the parish community. Because of their strong faith in the value of interpersonal relationships and group accomplishment, the trends indicate the de-sire of religious for group reflection in prayer. Prayer is no longer a private matter but is becoming a means fulfilling the need for an expression of friendship and human support. The place of God in prayer is not thereby lessened, because of the identity of "human experience" and "the experience of God." The starting point of prayer--personal or communal --is likewise incarnational--an event, something con-nected with themselves, the needs of the world as re-vealed in continuing salvation history--more than the speculative knowledge of a transcendent God. Institution Religious from coast to coast are questioning--not theoretically but existentially--the meaning and purpose of religious life itself. The reports indicate, however, that this scrutiny is not negative, but positive--in spite of the front page articles in the NCR. Structures are not disregarded but desired if they help real personal commitment. Community of life, however, takes prece-dence over institution which is understood as something to help community of life, to make and keep its mem-bers more fully human persons. The institution is re-jected under certain aspects because of unfortunate ex-periences resulting from harshness, impersonalism, legal-ism, and paternalism. Rule Regarding the rule, the trend is toward getting away from the traditional rule because it no longer measures up to the needs of the time. Also evident is a lack of regard for unnecessary canonical legislation. Religious women, in particular, are resentful of the paternalism manifested toward them by the Sacred Congregation of Religious and in canon law. External Signs Also strong is the trend to reject archaic signs of identification as religious. These externals, such as the habit, the canonical cloister, the rule, community con-trols, are seen as objectionable to the extent that they separate the religious from the secular world. These religious wish to remove the barriers imposed by monastic influences of another age. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Living VOLUME 27, 1968 813 Silence Closely connected to their notions on spirituality, prayer, and religious structures are the views of religious on silence. They admit the value of silence but not according to traditional concepts. Personal silence is valuable as a means to encountering the other; it is closely related to charity. Rather than an absence of words, silence is an inner attitude. Thus, they refuse to keep a conformist silence or silence of rule considered for its own sake. Size oI Community Especially strong are the desire and the realization of riving in small homogeneous groups because of the need for human interpersonal relationships, for authenticity, for the development of the person. In this way, religious desire to bear effective witness both to poverty and to service. Thus there is a trend toward experimen-tation in this more fraternal way of life: some are living in smaller groups; others are living in apartments. Secular World Today's religious desire to socialize more naturally wid~ other people. In fact, there is evidence of a trend toward seeking fraternity outside the usual religious community group. On the one hand, some see this trend as a reaction against an incorrectly understood type of ¯ community life; on the other hand, some see this as an overflow of the love that is established in true com-munity. Whatever be the case, we must attempt to read the signs of the times; if a person does not find accept-ance and human fellowship within the community, he will seek it elsewhere. Increased activity in the secular world is practically a fait accompli for most religious who are now reading contemporary books, going to movies, taking part in politics, and maintaining contact with the world of art and artists. 4- 4- 4- Sister M. Denis~ S.0.5. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS .4 uthority Religious admit that they will readily sh~re personal experiences with their fellow religious but less willingly with one who is in authority--a spiritual director or a superior. The authority figure in practice is not yet seen as a friend. Strongly rejecting paternalism, religious do not wish to be dependent upon a superior. Authority itself is not rejected; religious still see the necessity of someone in charge of the group. But this person--the superior--should be an available and approachable moderator--one among brothers. Authority is seen as service and coresponsibility. There is a trend, but not yet clearly defined, toward a concept of shared authority with joint responsibility in view of the good of the group. Because of the dignit

Issue 20.6 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; Carl ]. P]ei]er, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 plan of all liturgical worship: 1) the service is begun with a reading; 2) after the reading follows singing; 3) and the service is ended with a prayer. Among the early Christians all prayer services and devotions were carried out accord-ing to this basic plan, and since the third 6r fourth cen-tury this has been the ruling principle of all liturgical services.-" Such a plan is not merely arbitrary, nor is an accidental or aesthetic arrangement of elements. Ac-cording to Father Jungmann: ¯. it is in character with the essential nature of the Christian plan of redemption. Our salvation, typified by the divine word which we receive in the reading, comes from God. It descends from heaven to earth and stirs within the hearts of the faithful the echo of song. Thereupon the prayers and petitions of the Christian community are gathered up and brought back to God on high by the priest. There is something dramatic about this arrangement; through it we actually come to realize what is meant in saying that the liturgy is the public worship of the Church? This structure--reading, song, prayer--is filled out ac-cording to basic themes central to Christian revelation. In the Christian message of salvation and the prayer of the Church, certain themes appear as focal, around which all other truths are centered and from which they receive their meaning.' One of these themes centers on the love and kindness God shows His people. Freely, out of love, He created man; freely and out of even greater love He has worked out man's salvation. Such generous and unmerited good-ness demands a response of love and thanksgiving. Grati-tude is thus ~een as a fundamental attitude of man, and more so of a Catholic: "O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good" (Ps 135:1). It is this scriptural theme of God's love calling forth our grateful response that runs through the proposed Thanksgiving Day "bible vigil." Perhaps a fuller explanation will be helpful. Reading God's plan of salvation is effected and manifested to us by His Word, and according to Scripture this redemptive plan is realized gradually. Somehow man's redemption was to be achieved through Israel, the Lord's chosen peo- -"J. A. Jungmann, s.J., Liturgical Worship (New York: Pustet, 1941), p. 67. Father Jungmann devotes most of this book to a dis-qussion of the basic liturgical groundplan. See also Louis Bouyer, Liturgical Piety (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame' Press, 1955). ~ Jungmann, op. cit., p. 80. * For a fuller treatment of the structure and themes of Christian revelation see Johannes Hofinger, S.J., The Art o] Teaching Chris-tian Doctrine (Notre Dalne: University of Notre Dame Press, 1957) and Mary Perkins Ryan, Key to the Psalms (Chicago: Fides, 1957). Most useful for constructing "bible vigils" is Reading the Word ol God by Lawrence Dannemiller, S.S. (Baltimore: Helicon, 1960). pie. After centuries of intimate relations with Yahweh, this nation brought forth a:Savior; from this race the Word Himself took flesh. And when in the fulness of time God became man, He suffered, died and rose from the dead that men might die with Him to sin and .rise with Him to forgiveness and grace. His redemptive activity continues on through the centuries in His new people, the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church. Finally, He is to come again bringing the divine plan to its fulfillment in the new and eternal Jerusalem. The .plan itself is one; likewise the revelation of the plan is unified in the unique Word of God. The Old Testament, then, is not just a collection of interesting and sometimes edifying stories, but the gradual manifestation of God's plan for our sal-vation. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is also our Father in heaven. He is the one Lord of History, as the Church teaches us in the. liturgy of the Easter Vigil: "O God, we behold your ancient wonders shining even to our own time. For that which the power of your right hand did for one people in freeing them from Egyptian bondage you accomplish now for the salvation of all men by the waters of rebirth." Throughout the Old Testa-ment run basic themes "about God and man's relationship to Him. Although the stories vary,~ the basic relationships do not. Central to the religion o-f the Israelites was the belief that their God, Yahweh, moved by love alone, not-by any merit on their part, had called them, chosen .them out from among the nations, to be .His people_. "You shall be My people, and I will be your~ God" (Ez 36:26). The initiative was wholly on His~part. This call, given initially to Abraham, found its highest expression through Moses in the Exodus, the focal point of Jewish religious history. Their God saved them from slavery, destroyed their pur-suers, and leading them through the desert, formed and purified them into a nation, His chosen people, and fi-nally brought them to the promised.land. The initiative was all His. He perpetuated His call in a covenant with His people, a promise.eternally binding, freely offered out of love. This covenant was prepared for and initiated in the first act of creative love. It became more definitive in the Garden, then with Noah, later with Abraham, and finally with Moses. From then on, it was renewed ritually each yegr by the Hebrew people. Such a covenant renewal ceremony is found, in the book of Nehemiah, 9: 1-55. This then will be the first selection to be read. It is a prayerful remembrance of God's initia-tive in. forming and saving His people, a remembrance of His covenant, His love. After a short period for silent, prayerful reflection on the first reading, a selection from the New Testament is ÷ ÷ ÷ Thanksgiving Da~ Service VOLUME 20, 1961 399 Carl ]. P~ei]er, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS read. It indicates the continuation of God!s plan and its culmination in Christ. In Nehemiah the ritual renewal of the covenant-between Yahweh and His people is re-corded in which' the fundamental beliefs of Israel's reli-gion were proclaimed to the assembled nation. These same ideas are fundamental to our belief, for, as we saw, God's salvific plan continues into our era and culminates in Christ. What went before Christ was not accidental to God's plan, and hence, not accidental to our own reli-gious education and worship. Rather it was a preliminary stage, preparatory to the coming of the great High Priest and His priestly people. In Him all history finds its mean-ing. This is the substance of what is expressed in the second selection, taken from Paul's letter to the Ephe-sians. For what God did for His chosen people through Abra-ham, Moses, and the prophets, He continues now in a more perfect manner for us, the new Israel, through Christ. The Jews wer6 set apart by Yahweh, a chosen nation; we are adopted as His sons, made members of His eternal Son, temples of His Spirit. The Jews He led out of Egyptian slavery; He frees us from the power of Satan. The manna of old is replaced by "bread from heaven," and the vague prophecies of the Old Law have given away to the full revelation of the Word. And in-stead of a promised land "flowing with milk and honey," we look forward to-the eternal banquet, where "eye has not seen, nor ear heard . " Such is the great love of our Father in heaven for us His new people. "He would have all future ages see, in that clemency which he shewed us in Christ Jesus, the surpassing richness of his grace" (Eph 2:8). Song Filled with the realization of the goodness of our Father, of His love for us sinful creatures, we sing out in gratitude, making use of Hig own revealed words, Psalm 135. Joined together in a worshipping community we re-spond to His word, which has just taken vital form through 'its proclamation in our midst. We sing now, the new Israel, an ancient Jewish hymn of thanks. And as it recalls Yahweh'S great deeds for His ~oeople, we make the words our own, singing our thanks for His even more wonderful deeds toward us. Our song of gratitude is rooted in faith, faith in the Word we have just heard. This faith is our response to God's call and covenant; it, is our total, personal commitment to our Father, a total giving of self to God in return for His gifts. As with Abraham and the Israelites, this faith is the fundamental virtue of our Christian life. God calls, elects, chooses. To him whom He chooses, He freely offers His graces, eve~ ! Himself. Our response is faith, belief in what He says, but also belief in Him, personal dedication to Him, flow-ing over into gratitude, confidence and joy? Prayer Our gratitude now takes the form of prayer. We exer-cise our priestly role, proper to us who share the priest-hood of Christ by our baptism and confirmation. And we enumerate with gratitude the gifts of the new covenant. God's plan of salvation, begun in the Jewish nation, cli-maxing in the Incarnation and Redemption of Jesus Christ, continues on to us through the Mystical Christ, the Church. It is only by pertaining to this Body of Christ that the saving action of God reaches us through Christ our Lord. Through membership in the new people of God we are in personal contact with our Redeemer. His word is proclaimed in our midst, His grace is shared with us in our personal encounters with Him in His sacra-ments. Through our union with Him we are enabled to offer our Father a suitable thank-offering, the Mass. And through our ever increasing share in His life we have al-ready a ~beginning of that glory which awaits us with Him in heaven. And all of this, prefigured in Yahweh's rela-tionships with His chosen people, is a completely free gift of our Father. United, then, in one worshipping commu-nity, we offer our thanks to our Father in our united prayer. Finally, after a moment of silent prayer following our vocal prayer, the priest gathers up our grateful expres-sions and offers them to God for us. Christ's mediatorship is continued through His ordained priests. They stand between us and God, not as barriers, but as the normal means by which God comes to us and we reach up to God. Through the priest His Word is proclaimed and finds living reality; through the priest Christ allows us to come directly in contact with Him in the sacraments--a per-sonal encounter between us and our Savior. And through the priest Christ offers our prayers to the Father. Hence the service ends with the priest's prayer as our representa-tive. The particular prayer chosen dates from the year 215 A.D. and was composed by Hippolytus of Rome as a sample that migh~ be used in the first Mass of a newly consecrated bishop. It is one of the earliest extant formu-laries for the Prayer of Thanksgiving, or Eucharistic Prayer, now more commonly called the Canon of the Mass. The text has been somewhat adapted for use in this "bible vigil"; the words of consecration, for example have been omitted, as have other references to sacrifice. What remains is a beautiful prayer of thanksgiving for God's ~ For,a further treatment of faith as a personal response to God, see Jean Mouroux, I Believe (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1959). + 4- 4- Thanksgiving Day Se~vi~e VOLUME 20, 1961 401 Cad 1. Pleiler, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 402 redemptive work through the llfe, death, and resurrection of His Son, Christ Jesus, our Lord. Such, then, is the suggested biblical-liturgical service. Its structure leads to an appreciation of the meaning and purpose of public worship, while its content manifests an essential theme of Christian life an.d revelation. In 'this case, the theme is suited to Thanksgiving Day, Similar "bible vigils" can be worked out for almost any occasion and allow for much variety within the basic group plan of reading, song, prayer. For example, a homily may be preached after the reading(s). And although the Psalms~. are admirably suited to such services, any hymn that fits the theme may be substituted. The priestly prayers of the Mass (Collect, Secret, Preface, Postcommunion) are a rich source of acceptable prayers, as is the Raccolta. And the service may be concluded with Benediction or some other suitable rite. For example, a service constructed on the theme of Baptism might fittingly be concluded with blessing and sprinkling with holy water. So much for the explanation of the ser.vice. The text follows in full, with hymns added at the beginning: and end to round out the basic structure. If used in full, it should take about twenty minutes; verses of the Psalms may be omitted to reduce the time. ENTRANCE HYMN: [stand] Psalm 22" (All sing the antiphon after the cantor and after each verse): HIS GOODNESS SHALL FOLLOW ME ALWAYS, TO THE END OF MY DAYS. My shepherd is the Lord; there is nothing I shall want. FreSh and green are the pastures where he gives me repose. Near restful waters he leads me, to revive my drooping spirit. [Antiphon] He guides me along the right path; he is true to his name. If I should walk in the valley of darkness no evil would I fear. You are there with your Crook and your staff; with these you give me Comfort. [Antiphon] You have prepared a banquet for me in the sight of my foes. My head you have anointed" with oil; my cup is overflowing. [AntiPhon] OThe text of the three psalms used in the service is taken from Joseph Gelincau, S.J., Twenty-Four Psalms and a Canticle (Toledo: Gregorian Institute of America, 1955) with permission of the pub-lishers~ Surely goodness and kindness shall follow me all the, days of my life. In the Lord's own house shall' I dwell for ever and ever. [An[iphon] To the Father and Son give glory, give glory to the Spirit. To God who is, who was, ,:and who will be forever and ever. [Antiphon] ' ¯ GOD'S GIFTS IN PREPARATION: [sit] Nehemiah 9: 1-15, 32.' ~ '~ ¯ Then, ~n the twenty-fourth day of this same month~ the men of Israel met together, fasting, and with sack-cloth about them, and sprinkled with dust, ~nd the whole breed of Israel severed itself from all contact with alien, folk. :. This was the prayer offered by the Levi.tes . Up, friends, .and bless the Lord, your God, as blessed he musE be from the beginning to the end of timel.,Blessed be thy. glorious name, O Lords that is beyond all blessing, and all praise! Heaven is of thy fashioning, and the heaven o~ heavens, and all the hosts t.hat dw~ell there, earth and sea~, and all that earth and sea hold; to all these thou givest the life they have; none so high in heayen but must pay thee worship. It was thou,-Lord God, that didst make' choice of Abram, and beckon ~him away from Chaldea, from the City of Fire. And now~ thou. wouldst call~ him Abraham; a loyal servant thou. did~st find him, and didst make a covenant with him, promising that his race should inherit the lands of .Chanaanite and Hethite, Amorrhite and Pherezite, Jebusite, and Gergesite. That promise, in thy faithfulness, thou didst make good, Thou hadst an eye for the affliction our fathers suffered in Egypt, an ear for their cry of distress at the Red Sea; the pride~of Pharao and Pharao's court and all his people, had not passed unregarded; there were porte.nts, an£ cnarvels, and thy name won renown, as it has w~on renown this day: Thou didst part ~the,w~ters.at their coming, so that' they crossed the sea dry-shod, didst hurl their pursuers into the depths of it, so that they sank like a stone be-neath the rushing waves. Thou thyself didst lead thy people on their journey, hidden by day in a pillar of cloud, by night in a pillar of fire, to light the path they must tread. There, on mount Sinai, thou didst keep tryst with them; thy voice came from heaven to teach them thy just decrees, thy abiding law with all its observance.s, all its wholesome bidding. There thou didst reveal to them ~ From the Old Testament, volume i, in the translation of Mo~: ~ignor Ronald Knox, Copyright 1948, Sheed and Ward, Inc, New York. , ,, + Thanksgiving Day Service VOLUME'20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷" Carl 1. Ptei~er, $.], REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 404 how thy sabbath should be kept holy; law and observance and award thou, through Moses, didst hand down to them. When they were hungry, thou didst give them bread from heaven; when they were thirsty, thou didst bring water out of the rock; and for the goal of their journey didst beckon them on to take possession of this same land, which thou hadst sworn .to give them . To thee, then, we turn, who art our God, to thee, the great, the strong, the terrible God, who didst not forget thy covenant, or the mercy thou hast promised. A MOMENT OF SILENT PRAYER [kneel] GOD'S GIFTS IN FULFILLMENT: [sit] Ephesians 1:3-14; 2:4-10.8 Blessed be that God, that Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us, in Christ, with every spiritual blessing, higher than heaven itself. He has chosen us out, in Christ, before the foundation of the wbrld, to be saints, to be blameless in his sight, for love of him; mark-ing us out beforehand (so his will decreed) to be his adopted children through Jes~us Christ. Thus he would manifest the splendor of that ggace by which he has taken us into his favor in the person of his beloved Son. It is in him and through his blood' that we enjoy redemption, the forgiveness of our sins. So rich is God's grace, that has overflowed upon' us in a full stream of wisdom and~ discernment, to make known to us the hidden purpose of his will. It was his loving design, centered in Christ, to give history its fulfillment by resuming everything in him, all that is in heaven, all that is on earth, summed up in him. In him it was our 10t to be called, singleff out before-hand to suit his purpose, (for it is he who is at work every-where, carrying out the designs of his will); we were to manifest his glory, we who were the first to set our hope in Christ; in. him you too were called, when you listened to the preaching of the truth, that gospel which is your salvation. In him you too learned to believe, and had the seal set on your faith by the promised gift of the Holy Spirit; a pledge of the inheritance which is ours, tO re-deem it for us and to bring us into possession of it, and so manifest God's glory . How rich Godis in mercy, with what an excess of love he lok, ed usI Our sins had made dead men of us, and he, in'giving life to Christ, gave life to us too; it is his grace that has saved you; raised us up too, enthroned us too above the heavens, in Christ Jesus. He would have all future ages see, in that clemency which he shewed us in~ Chri'st Jesus, the surpassing richhess of his grace. Yes, it was grace that saved you, with faith for its instrumen.t; it s From the New Testament in the translation of Monsignor Ron-aid Knox, Copyright 1944, Sheed and Ward, Inc., New York. '/ did not come from yourselves, it wa~ God's gift, not from any action of yours, or there would be room for pride. No, we are his design; God has created us'-in Christ Jesus, pledged to 'such good actions as he has prepared befor~- hand, to be the employment of ~3ur lives. OUR GRATEFUL RESPONSE IN SONG: [stand] Psahn 135 (All sing the following refrain after each phrase of the cantor): FOR HIS' GREAT LOVE IS WITHOUT END O give thanks to the, Lord for he is go~d, FOR HIS GREAT LOVE IS WITHOUT END. Give thanks to the God of gods . Give thanks to the Lord ,of lords . Who alone has wrought marveilous works . whose wisdom it was made the skies,. who, spread the earth on :the seas, . It was he that made ~the great lights,. the sun to rule in the day . the moon and the stars in the night,. The first-born of the Egyptians he smote . brought Israel out from their midst . arm outstretched, with power in his hand . He divided the Red Sea in two . made Israel pass through the midst,. flung Pharaoh and his ~orce in the sea,. Through the desert his people he led . Nations in their greatness he struck . Kings in their splendour he slew . He let Israel inherit their land . On his servants their land he bestowed,. He remembered us in our distress . And he snatched us away from our foes,. He gives food to all living things . To the God of heaven give thanks . OUR GRATEFUL RESPONSE IN PRAYER: [kneel] ~lifford Howell, s.J.~ Priest: O Lord God, we thank you. People: ~O LORD GOD, WE THANK YOU. Pr: We thank you *°that our Lord Jesus Christ still lives on in His Church. ~ The text of the people's prayer is qubt¢d with pei'mission of the publisher from the leaflet by Clifford H6well, S.J., You are Christ's Body (St. Louis: Pio Decimo Press, 1949), p. 3. ÷ Thanksgiving DWy Service VOLUME 20, 1961 4o~. 4, 4, + Carl 1. P]eif~r," $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 406 Pe:,.WE THANK YOU * .,THAT THROUGH HIS CHURCH *' HE CONTINUES HIS ACTIV-ITIES AMONG MEN. Pr: We thank You * that when the C[aurch teaches * it is Christ who teaches. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT WHEN THE CHURCH SACRIFICES * IT IS CHRIST WHO SACRIFICES. Pri We thank You Christ ~vho doe~ all these things * through the Church, His Mystical Body. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT~WE HAVE BEEN MADE MEMBERS * OF THIS MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST. Pr: We thank You * that as members of this Body * we can worship You through Christ our Head * in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT WE MAY OBTAIN ALL GRACES * FROM YOUR HOLY SACRA-MENTS. Pr: We thank You * that through Your Church we may attain to Eternal Life. Pe: O LORD GOD, WE THA.NK YOU~ * TO YOU BE PRAISE IN YOUR CHURCH * AND IN JESUS CHRIST * FOR EVER AND EVER. * AMEN. A MOMENT OF SILEN~ T PRAYER. OUR PRAYERFUL RESPONSE OFFERED TO GOD THROUGH THE PRIEST: [stand] Hippolytus oI Rome?° Priest: The Lord be with you. P~eople: AND WITH YOU ALSO. Priest: Lift up your':h~arts. People: WE HAVE. LIFTEI~ THEM UP TO THE LORD. Priest: Let us give thanks to the Lord. People: IT IS RIGHT AND JUST. Priest: We give thanks to You, O God, "through Your be-loved servant, Jesus Christ, whom You have sent dtoe eums eirn a tnhde smee lsassetn tgimere° so fto Y boeu or ucro usanvsieol.r Haned i sre- Your Word, inseparable from You; thrqugh Him You have made all things and in Him You are well pleased. You did send Him from heaven into, the womb of the Virgin; carried in her womb He was made flesh and was manifested as Your Son; being born of the Holy Ghost and,. of the Virgin. FulfilIing,your Will and acquiring for You a holyl people He stretched out His hands in suffering in~ lo The full text of this thanksgiving prayer can be found in J. A Jungmann, s.J., Public Worship (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1957j~] pp. 92-3.if' order that He might free from suffering those who believed in Him . He was handed over to volun-tary suffering to rob death of its power, to break the bonds of the devil, to tread hell underfoot, to give light to the just, to set up a boundary stone and an-nounce the resurrection . Remembering there-fore His death and resurrection., we thank You that You have considered us worthy to stand before You and to serve You. And we pray that You will send down the Holy Spirit on Your Church. Be-cause You gather all together in unity, we pray that You will grant the fulness of the Holy Spirit to all the saints., that their faith may be strengthened in truth, and that we may praise and glorify You through Your servant Jesus Christ, through whom honor and glory be unto You, O Father, with Your Son and the Holy Spirit in Your Holy Church both now and for ever and ever. People: AMEN. CONCLUDING HYMN: [stand] Psalm 99 (All sing the antiphon after the cantor and after each verse.): ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA Cry out with joy to the Lord, all the earth. Serve the Lord with gladness. Come before him, singing for joy. [Antiphon] Know that he, the Lord, is God. He made us, we belong to him, we are his people, the sheep Of his flock. [Antiphon] Go within his gates, giving thanks. Enter his courts with songs of praise. Give thanks to him and bless his name. [Antiphon] Indeed, how good is the Lord, eternal his merciful love; he is faithful from age to age. [Antiphon] Give glory to the Father AJmighty, to 'his Son, Jesus Christ, the Lord, to the Spirit who dwells in our heartsY [Antiphon] n For further information on "bible vigils" see "Organizing a Bible Vigil," by Kilian McDonnell, O.S.B., in Worship, February, 4. 1960, pp. 144-48 and the article by the present writer, "Popular 4. Devotions--a New Look!" to be published soon in Homiletic and Pastoral Review. Examples of such vigils can also be found in Wor-ship, January and March, 1959; March, 1960; January, 1961. Tiuml~giving Day Serv~e VOLUME 20, 1961~ 407 RICHARD M. MCKEON, S.J. ' Human Relations in Religion ÷ ÷ ÷ Richard M. McKeon, $.J., is the director of the Institute for In-dustrial Relations at Le Moyne College, Syracuse $, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 408 The title of this article may seem strange to many. Cer-tainly a great deal has been written about the human factor as applied to the religious and the priestly life. But we wonder if there has ever been a systematic study of human relations in religion similar to the hundreds which are being made in the field of industry. Before me .is book, Human Relations in Management, numbering over 750 pages. Subject to correction, I doubt if there is a similar book concerning human relations in religious management. The following are some of the topics treated in the book: the human factor in industry, the philosophy management, conditions of effective leadership, motiva-tion and increased productivity, work group behavior, basic psychological factors in communication, the psy-chology of participation, dealing with resistance to change, empathy--management's greatest need. If great accent is being placed on human relations "as a systematic, develop-ing body of knowledge devoted to explaining the behavior of industrial man," should there not be a similar body knowledge based on the best findings of the behavioral sciences to explain the human relations factor.in religious and priests? The history of industrial relations shows how the human element was sorely neglected up to the start of the twenti-eth century. That was why in 1891 Leo XIII issued his famous encyclical letter On the Condition of the Working Class. Up to World War II there were some noted ad-vances in this field, as the Hawthorne Studies and the im-petus prompted by the passage of the National Labor Relations Act show. But from 1945 to the present the study and application of human relations in industry has been phenomenal. With these thoughts in mind I shall make comment on an article, "The Human Relations of a Foreman," pub-lished in the Monthly Letter of the Royal Bank of Canada for May, 1961. By applying some of the topics to the re-ligious and priestly life, the need for further exploration will be evident. "Why is the supply of men of supervisory capacity so thin?" Why have so many superiors in religion been lacking in the qualities which make for good administra-tion? Many answers will be given and I have listened to them for over forty years. Some will point out men who have been advanced with no worthwhile achievement behind them--merely because they were sources of no trouble. Is there also a chance that,administrative pro-motion in religion is connected with nepotism and cliques? It is true, of course, that the principles and rules of re-ligious life will sustain su~cient order in a community even under a poor administrator; the vow of obedience is the great foundation here. But in this article let us set aside the supernatural side and try to view human re-lations in the light of modern industry. Let us begin by remarking that just as a foreman in a factory needs "poise, wisdom, suppleness of mind, courage, and energy, besides the know-how of his technical special-ity," so also are these qualities to be hoped for in a su-perior. A superior is called upon to be an executive. Do the current methods of selecting a superior prove that he possesses executive talent for this or that particular position? Take, for instance, the priest who has charge of the ma-terial things in a seminary or a religious house where the teachers and students number one hundred or more, As far as shelter, food, and material services are concerned, such an institution is like a hotel. While custom, tradition, and discipline will keep things going, it is evident that such a priest would do a far better job if he had a course in hotel management. We all know the grand rush for our priests and religious to go on for higher studies in order that Catholic intellectual life be improved. This is to be commended. But is it not logical also to send those in charge of the ordinary living conditions of religious and priests to special studies to improve such conditions? Such training should result in better economical operation as well as in better living conditions. Have you ever tried to dry yourself with the moisture-proof towels found in certain communities? "Good human relations is people getting along well to-gether." It is not enough to rely on the religious or the priestly garb to command proper respect. Respect should b'e won by "intelligence, administrative competence, and the power to make men follow him~ because of personal attributes." All evidence of playing a policeman's role mnst be avoided. + + + Human Relations VO~-UME 20, 1961 409 4. o÷ R. M~ McKeon, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 410 Every religious and priest is a person; the superior must show a. sincere interest in each one; he must give him a sense of really belonging to the team--the institution under the superior's charge. The superior's chair must not be turned into a throne; around it there should be an atmosphere empty of fear but rich with sympathetic un-derstanding. "The best company to work for, and the company that gets the best work done, is the company with a strong company-group feeling." There are and will be divided religious communities; they are not pleasant places to live in.,How can such a situation be remedied? One answer is by superiors "who obtain the collaboration of people in their work-groups through loyalty and liking and coopera-tion." A superior will assign a subject a task; the subject will obey. But it is certain that the job will be better clone if the superior has excited enthusiasm, initiative, loyalty. "However.tall a man may stand in the hierarchy of management, he is not a successful executive unless he un-derstands the points of view and the problems of the rank and file of his workers." This statement is equally true of the religious superior. Unless his interest is sincere and sympathetic, subjects may do their work; but human na, ture being what it is, we wonder how good the work will be. ~A superior must prove himself superior; otherwise his authority is bound to suffer. It is necessary to strengthen that authority by personal performance and demonstrated ability, Good managers ask their workers for counsel and help. They know, that fine ideas are often buried in the mind waiting for the right tapping. The post-war growth of suggestion systems is proof that industry values the min'd of subordinates. It gives courteous hearing to such ideaS; it allows workers to take part in decisions. By such action workers feel that their jobs are important and that they share in responsibility. A few words abou~ discipline. In his own development, a manager should learn to obey. "But discipline is more than blind obedience. The word itself comes from ,the same root as the word 'disciple,' and a disciple is one who follows the teachings and the example of a respected leader." A good manager will have discipline because he is fair in the allotment of work and in the handling of grievances and because he inspires. He is not worried about "losing face" by appearing too human. In a crisis he will be forceful but friendly. The same things will be true of a good superior in reli-gion. Moreover, in his case there is the supreme examplel of Christ in His handling of His disciples to drive home many a lesson applicable to religious life. Christ con7 demned, sin; He had love and mercy for the sinner. "Probably foremost among the techniques of handling men is .the building of morale through praise and en-couragement. Commendation by a superior is of great consequence. It breeds loyalty and it inspires the worker to follow "through." Religious and priests are human and will remain so till their dying breath. Human nature likes encouragement especially when skies are dark. Religious and priests are also humble; when just praise from su-periors is lacking, they will console themselves by remem-bering the words of our Lord: ~'Even so you also, when you have done everything that was commanded you; say 'We are unprofitable,servants; we have done what it _was our du_ty to do.' " But praise justly won for doing one's duty weli means a. great deal in religious life. It does boost morale and it .strengthens self-confidence. It makes~a man willing to as-sume more difficult work. Moreover, when a superior gives credit to his community on the occasion of his in-stitution receiving public praise, he will build up initia-tive and a mutual sense of responsibility. I believe that the words of Peter F. Drucker, an. expert in management matters, should be applied to a religious superior. He writes: "Who is a manager can be defined only by a man's function and by the contribution he is expected to make. And the function which distinguishes the manager above all others is his educational one. The one contribution he is ~uniquely expected to make is'to give others vision and ability to perform:It is vision and moral responsibility that, in the last analysis, define the manager." In the previously mentioned textbook, Human R~la-tions in Management, over one hundred pages are de-voted to communication. I am willing to wager that no treatise on the religious life has a quarter amount of'this topic developed as it should be. If successful communica-tion is necessary for the functioning of industry, it should be equally, true for the religious life. Effective communication can build up a stronger com-munity spirit. How embarrassing it has been for religious and priests to be among lay people and hear, for ex-ample; that a new building will be built on the campus about which they have heard nothing. XVhen special work is assigned, it is,well for superiors to give the subject all information possible or refer him to one. who can help him. When information is passed through several superiors, measures should be'.taken to keep the original information intact. If the lower superiors are not able to explain clearly the.orders and policies of the "top brass," confusion will be more confounded among the rank and file. Communication is a two-way street. A good superior will listen to his subjects. Many have excellent brains + ÷ + Human Relations VOLUM.E 20, 196,1 ÷ ÷ 4. R. M. McKe~n~ $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 412 and are trained in special fields. To pose as all-knowing and not to recognize the interest and contribution of such subjects for the common good is a fatal error. As.I was writing this article, the new president of the college called a special meeting of the community to in-form them about plans for three proposed buildings and for the future development of the entire campus. Three members of the architect's firm spent over two hours ex-plaining intimate aspects of the plans and answering ques-tions. Then followed an informal discussion for another h6ur. As a result, the entire community has a greater in-terest. The president said very little outside of thanking the architects; but he was responsible for this excellent,job of communication. "Sound administration is the sum total of mature imagination, mature perception, mature judgment, and mature humanism." It is well to remember that maturity is not a matter of years of service but of mental develop-ment. It calls for self-discipline manifested by regularity in work habits, exactness in execution, and alertness; More-over "healthy self-criticism and continued willingness to learn are among the important attributes of the foreman" --and likewise for the religious superior. One purpose of this article is to call attention to the great number of books and magazines dealing with the human aspects of industry. In them will be found a wealth of material which can be applied to the religious and priestly life. It is also true that we of the Church, if prop-erly trained, can give to industry the constructive princi-ples of our Christian heritage: the Sermon on the Mount, for example; can be developed into a powerful treatise in industrial relations. What holds for leadership in industry is also true in religion. "Leadership means to initiate, to instruct, to guide, to take responsibility, to be out in front . The joy of leadership and the thrill of being in charge of a group of people does not consist in doing a terrific iob yourself, but in spending your last ounce of energy and encouragement to see the group crack through to success." There have been magnificent leaders in the priesthood and religious life as history testifies. But certainly the Church would make better progress in these critical times if our leaders were well vbrsed in human relations within their respective groups. If the development of human nature studies in industry can be of help to the Church, let us be humble and sincere in translating the best things into the priestly and religious life. SISTER MARTHA MARY, c.s.J. The, Wisdom of Praise Why is p?aise such a welcome sound in our ears? Is it be- Cause we are so egotistic or is it rather that we, as social beings, have such a deep need for the approval of others? St. Thomas remarks that dependence on others is typical of the rational creature. Security in the companionship of our family and associates is our first and most enduring need as a human being. No amount of food, entertain-ment, or suhshine will take th~ place of this ingredient of life. Every li¢ing person needs to know that he is loved and appreciated; and if such recognition is not forthcoming, life loses much of its meaning. He feels that he is'maimed in some interior and frightening way, for deep in his heart everyone agrees with the poet's words: "No man is an is-land." It is interesting to note that our Lord praised people without any hesitation. He praised the widow for her in-significant contribution in the, temple, Mary Magdalene for loving much, the centurion for his faith. What glow-ing words He had for St. John the Baptist, a supposed rivalI1 Sometimes He made these remarks in the presence of the person praised; sometimes not. What is important is that we know our Lord did communicate to others who were with Him the conviction that He appreciated them. He did it by words of praise in many recorded instances. True, He warned against flattery, but that was something quite different, the antithesis of praise--false praise. Jesus Christ was always the enemy of hyp.ocrisy; He was always on the side of truth because He is truth. The qnly true praise is truth. Thus flattery is ruled out from the start. How could it have any meaning when it has no basis in truth? Praise is based on real accomplishment or at least the capacity for ~ Lk 21 : 2-4; 7 : 44--~0; 7 : 9; 7 : 26-28. Sister Martha Mary, C.S.J., teaches religion and English at St. Jos-eph Academy, 1015 South Monroe Avenue, Green Bay; ,Wisconsin. VOLUME 20, 1961 41.~ 4. 4. Sister Martha Mar~ REVIEW ~:OR RELIGIOUS 414 this achievement; flattery is an appeal to another's vanity. Praise flows from principle; flattery comes from policy. Praise is genuine; flattery, is counterfeit. Yet, just as no one rejects all currency because he knows that counterfeit money is in circulation,, so no one would wisely reject all praise simply because flattery does exist. Praise is a great goo~ because it is the straightforward recognition of the cooperation of another with the grace of God. Every worthwhile deed a person accomplishes is brought to fruition under the grace of God without whom no one can do the ~lightest thing. This awareness of the good in others is made tangible by words of praise and by the pleasant relationship which these words set up. Praise be-comes the externalization of the empathy within the heart. It is a combination of joy, gladness, and great-heartedness. It is the visible expression of love and admiration. It is the positive keeping of the eighth commandment which is so closely connected with the great commandment. The Christian is so busy bearing true, glowing, enthusiastic witness to the neighbor that he chnnot bear false witness. To praise, then, is to be virtuous. But is praise not t~o be considered_ dangerous to hu-mility? Will it not be aft inducement to pride? Will it not draw us away from God and focus our attention on self? St. Thomas allays our fears on this point. He says that praise can be a very good thing, and this for several rea-sons. Rightfulpraise is iri reality the praise of God through whose power the good ~eeds have been performed. Sec-ondly, the praise of good may stimulate others to emulate these good acts. Finally, prhise is a means by which one can come to recognize good qualities in himself, the talents which God has entrusted to him. Once recognized, these talents can be developed and the person possessing them can thank God in all humility for the many gifts he has received. How could he be grateful if he did not know what God had given? Awareness brings gratitude. In these words, St. Thomas points out that praise is a means to an end; it i's not to be sought as an end in itself.2 God is the end, but praise is a very powerful stimulant to approach Him more quickly. The theological viewpoint receives strong support from psychologists who agree that vanity, conceit and other un-desirable qu.aliti~s flourish widely where recognitiofi is not given, for they serve as modes of self-defense when a per-son's sense of personal worth is or is thought .to be under attack. Humility flourishes best in an atmosphere of loving approval, and the normal means for making known this approval is praise. Regarding this, Sister Annette spoke at some length to religious superiors at the 1959 Institute of Spirituality: ¯ Summa theologiae, 1-2, q. 132, a. 2. All that you have to do to demonstrate that there really is no incompatibility between humility and a sense of personal' worth is to work very hard and consistently for a while at giv-ing your Sisters a sense of personal worth. Show your appreci-ation, of ~hat they are. doifig. Give. them praise whenever, p.os-s~ ble . And you will see more evidences of genuine humility than you did before this principle of psychology was applied so assiduously in your hguse. You see, it is the secure S~ster, the Sister who feels that she counts for something with her superior and with her community, who can afford to be humble. She is not continually being called upon to defend herself . A sense of p.ersonal worth is not only ~ao detriment to the virtue of hu-mility but it is also a natural help to. the .acquisition of humility.8 Father Nuttin notes that individual, actions tend to be repeated in .proportion to the success achieved: ~Experimental data about the way human personality de-velops from past experience show that normal forms of be-havi'our and the dyndmic forces which lie behind them, tend,to develop according to the success achieved; that is to say, forms of behaviour which lead to a satisfactory result are maintained by theoorganism, whilst the kinds of behaviour~ that end in fail-ure or a comparatively unsatisfactory result are increasingly eliminated.' If such is the case, ignoring good actiom, or worse yet, condemning them, may be a p6sitive deterrent to the praiseworthy development of another; Whether we wish to be or not, we constitute someone else's env~ironment. Now the question can be asked: Who should praise? Theologians and psychologists agr~ee that"~ tO produce its most desirable effects, praise must be given'by those who matter to us. Father Lord, in perhaps his greatest pamph-let, In Praise of Praise, comments thus: I should be quick to praise and eager to approve those who are connected with me by blood and kinship. The nearer the re-lati. onship, the more spontaneous and generous should-be my praise. I should gladly praise those who in the slightest .way depend on me. Their dependence extends to a real need for a state-ment that I like them and their work. I should be quick to notice and point out the good work of associates. Assoctation can easily turn out to be less the'occasion for friendship than for rivalry. That is tragic. Men and women thrive under the approval of those who work at their side. I am wise if I.praise those who are or could be my rivals. I may be sure the praise given to them is not stolen from me. Indeed, if I were to play a calculating and selfish game, I can remember that when I praise a rival and speak well of work that parallels my own, I am displaying my own generosity of soul.8 ~ Sister Mary Annette, C.S.J., "Environmental Factors Conditioning Personal Development," in Proceedings oI the 1959 Sisters' Institute o] Spirituality, edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. (Notre Dame: Uni-versity of Notre Dame Press, 1960); pp. 105-06. ¯ ' Joseph Nuttin, Psychoanalysis and Personality (New.York: Sheed and Ward, 1953), p. 185. ~ Daniel A Lord, S.J., In Praise o[ Praise (St.Louis: Queen's Work, 1953), pp. 47-8. + ÷ + VOLUME "20, 1961 415 $ist~ Ma~tha Ma~y REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 416 It is a known fact that many persons in the United States, even religious, go to 'a psychiatrist to have selbconfidence restored. How has it been lost? Might not a steady diet of apreciation have helped to prevent such personality starv-ation? The duty to praise is far'reaching indeed. It includes family, superiors, associates, everyone--in varying degrees. But for those in a pgsition of authority, the duty is more pressing because the results are more telling. What about religious superiors? Where praise exists, there is a smooth-running, happy community. Where recognition is never given, the virtue of the subjects is tested to the extremes; duty is made very difficult. A much-lo~ed superior general used to say to her subjects: "Do this, Sister dear, with the grace of God and your own smartness." She made her subjects feel that the cooperation they gave to God was tremendous and that they were great persons. They left her presence feeling that they could conquer the world for Christ. Deep in their hearts they felt, too, that perhaps their cooperation had been somewhat defective in the past, but that such a thing would never happen again. Such attitude of mind is healthy. Just the opposite is the de-flation felt when one has been told how inconsequential" one,s achievements and capabilities are. There is no to de better, just a dead feeling that one's clay feet match the rest of one's anatomy. There is always', the danger too, that since religious regard superiors the special representatives of God in their lives, unguarded and thoughtless remarks may be taken very seriously. The commitment of a religious demands excellence performance because what is done for Christ should be' perfection itself. However, a superior who takes the ex-cellent performance of her subjects for granted, does not establish a happy community feeling. The mere fact she provides a well-balanced diet for them, comfortable sleeping quarters, and the proper medicine for them when~ they are sick, does not compensate for a lack of confidence' and trust. Sisters value such comments as: "You did that well, Sister"; "I heard Dr~ Jones comment on your "The talk you gave at assembly was splendid"; "That apple pie tasted just like my mother's." When~ such remarks are made, the small talk of religious becomes, big talk because it makes each member feel that she is necessary person in her religious family, Does this mean that the praise must be all on the side the superior? Should the subject praise the superior? Ob-viously, since praise which is true praise is merely aspect of 19ve, the subject ought to show her appreciationl! for her superior. Too often this manifestation of regard classified as "polishing the apple" or "getting a stand-Yet, in religious communities no one ever aoes anyt alone. Subjects must back their superiors, not just from a sense of duty but in a happy manifestation of esprit de corps. This is best done when appreciation is shown on both sides; therefore, subjects ought not to fear to tell their superiors that a job has beefi well done, that they ap-preciate kindnesses. On the whole, superiors receive less praise than they should. They need kind words to counter-balance the worry and responsibility they have to shoulder. Superiors do a better job when they feel the warmth of subjects' love and admiration. When is the best time to praise a person? Obviously there is no pat answer for this; still it seems that praise should be given as soon as possible after achievement as it is a powerful tonic for relieving the fatigue concomitant with difficult work. It should be given, also in the tedium of steady progress toward distant goals, and it should be given at the moment of failure when discouragement may overwhelm one. In fact, there is no time unsuitable for praise; yet, it is of least value when it is prefaced by un-kind remarks simply because there is little likelihood that it will be believed. Praise, then, we may conclude, is a powerful incentive to virtue when it comes from one who matters to us, when it concerns a good action in an aspect of life which is im-portant to us, and when it is rightly timed. Praise is pre-cious and abundantly at hand. Then why is there so little of it in circulation? Observation will furnish the answer. Praise cannot thrive where there is selfishness, thoughtless-ness, and jealousy, It does not spring from misinterpreted moral principles. Praise is choked in the worldliness of our product-conscious age. All our superlatives have been cheapened in advertisements of such things as cars, beer, patent medicine, soap, and toothpaste. The people who invented these things have usually never been heard of. It seems that only diseases are named for their discoverers. Since the product has taken precedence over the person, we praise the product and ignore the person who devised it. This subtle and damaging form of worldliness can not only creep into religious communities but even thrive un-der the protection of ill-applied moral principles. The extent of the damage which results is almost impossible to gauge. This is true because very few people in the world have enough self-confidence to compensate for not receiving it from others. In our age, most people, rather than tending to pride, seem to be on the opposite side. They tend to be too afraid, infantile, immature, or in a Thomistic sense, pusillanimous. We are more like the man in the parable of the talents who buried his one talent. It is an odd, Jansenistic notion, I suppose, that makes many of us afraid to encourage others for fear we will make them ÷ ÷ Prate VOLUME 201 1961 proud. This is least likely to happen in our age. Rather we seem to need true encouragement to help us along the way.~ The need that is most basic,to our spirit is the need to be loved. We cannot live normally without it, It is being loved by others that gives us our sense of personal worth. Why should we hesitate to let this love shine through our words? Granted that praise does good to others. Does it help the one who bestows it? Yes. Praise dilates the heart. It fills us with love. It makes us outgoing. It makes us want to live life, not just to undergo it. Hearts that sing with praise are far removed from the dry rot of egotism. St. Thomas in explaining why God demands our praise and worship for Himself, underlines the fact that we are the ones who are benefited~ not God. Praise opens us up to God so that we can make contact with the divine. An analogous thing happens when we praise our neighbor. We praise God when we praise what He has made. Thus true praise finds its beginning in the worship of God. °Charles A. Curran, "Some Basic Factors in the Formation of Feminine Character and Spirituality," in Proceedings o! the 1959 Sisters" Institute o[ Spirituality, edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1960), pp. 59-60. 4- Sister Martha Mary REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 418 FATHER AIDAN, C.P. The Examination of Conscience Cemeteries are not, I suppose, places to which we would willingly go to 'pass our time. It is true that the grave-zligger in Hamlet sang at his grave-making, but theh 'custom hath made it in hima property of easiness"; less frequent visitors find light-heartedness the least of their emotions. If the churchyard is well=kept, colorful, and dive with flowers; the contrast between what it looks like ~nd what it serves' as is themore marked; if on the other ,Land it is neglected and untended, theatmosphere of g'en;., eral mournfulness and melancholy befitting the place is dl the more enhanced. No doubt Gray's "Elegy" has done .nuch to contribute to this association of ideas, but the ,~ensive sadness he found in his churchyard is a feeling =ommon to nearly all. I wonder whether a religious about to make his examen ¯ f conscience ever finds himself oppressed by much the ame sensation. Here we are---daily invited to 'attend and :arefully inspect the tombs of our buried ~hopes, our luickly perished good resolutions, our infant virtues; to emember carefully all the ills and diseases that did them o swiftly to death, and thereby to guard more effectively ,gainst the future attacks which we know to be inevitable. 1~o return again and again to the scede of so many defeats, o behold repeatedly evidences of such .feeble efforts--it an be a depressing pilgrimage, so depressing that th6 de- ,otion essential to any pilgrimage quickly evaporates,and ve fall into a routine performance of a task which ought o be, must be, fulfilled: And: tlien, perhaps, our resolutions, like everything me-hanical, begin to wear down. We become less convinced ,f the utility of the practice;, after all, we know ourselves ~retty welt by flow, so wliavis the point of this cons'~ant elf-analysis? Our duties keep us busy, our day is a full ohm, ,nlooked-for circumstances rob us of our precioffs~ mo-aenis; they surely can not be squandered on so profitless ÷ ÷ ÷ Father Aidan, C.P., teaches English at. St. Gabriel's College, Blythe Hall, Orraskirk, Lancs., England. VOLUME 20, 1961 419 Father Aidan, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 420 and dispiriting an employment. It can well be treated more cursorily, shortened, even omitted altogether. We are amazed to read what great store has been set on the examen by spiritual writers-~quite reputable ones, too~ and we can only feel that they are given to pious exaggera-tion. Yet for all our specious reasoning, the examen is an es-sential feature in our spiritual life, Perhaps it is not merely our practice of it, but our attitude towards it that stands in need of re-orientation. Perhaps we should remember more firmly that it represents not a solo effort with our-selves as judge and jury, plaintiff and defendant, but a joint partnership between ourselves and Christ. After all, the dead we mourn in our own little cemetery were also once His. He is concerned about all those abortive efforts, those frustrated failures, those sadly neglected promises. The sorry wreckage we contemplate so ruefully is not merely the ruin of our own hopes; it is also the thwarting of His loving desires for us. If we remember His presence,~ His concern in what we do, then perhaps we shall not find it too heart-breaking or too strength-sapping a task. When we look out of a window at a view beyond, we, are really lo~king at two things. We see the window itself,I and through it we see the landscape. Our gaze, it is true,,, is focused on the view, and we are aware of the windowl only secondarily, in a vague sort of way. Further, the more magnificent and appealing the view, the less conscious we are ot~ the intervening glass. There is a certain analogy here with our examen. Our souls should be like clear glass, through Which can be seen the magnificent spectacle of God. Too often, however, that unclouded pane becomes speckled and spotted with dust and dirt, so that it steadily grows opaque. It is to removing the source of that dirt that our examen is directed, so that~ we may look beyond to the splendor of divine brightness, Obviously, to clean merely for the sake of cleaning, like a fussy house-proud housewife, is a soulless occupation. The window is cleaned so that it may be seen through-~ that the beholder may gaze in full enjoyment at the beauty beyond. And when we are once convinced that the view is really worth looking at, surely we labor more eagerly at the window cleaning. In other words, when we attend to keeping clean the window of our soul, we must have our gaze steadily focused on the sight of our Divine Lord beyond. We should not rest in a sterile contemplation of our own limitations-- that way lies discouragement--but should compare them, at once with the unlimited virtues in the Sacred Heart Of Christ. He can, and He will, help us to remove those limitations, if we sincerely will to allow Him to do it. The sincere will to let Him have His way--perhaps i.t, ~as been the lack of this that has made our examens in the past so tedious, so disheartening, so~ fruitless. So easy to allow a gush of self-pity to drown the good resolution; so easy to stand idle, paralyzed with dismay, at the revela-tion of our utter weakness; so e~igy to forget our Divine Partner in the examen, that "combined. operation" that is nothing less than the accomplishment, together with Him, af the redemption He has died to bring, us. This should be remembered even if our examen ,has lacked more than sincere good will, and has been only a perfunctory formality--a mere lip-service without any ,eart-searching.: A few pet imperfections hurriedly re-clewed, their number estimated vaguely if at all, some nechanical acts~of sorrbw and petition, and we rise hastily _o get on with the real business of the dayRsomething for which we can see some positiveresult and tangibl~.fruit Of :ffort. Never a substitute for sincerity; formality has, llere ~. fossilizing effect; every subsequent examen only serves _o add a further stratum in the soul and renders future ~clamation more and more remote. Yet if with us works Dne for whom no obstacle exists, save only in our own tardened wills, we can not doubt the outcome. ~ There can be no excuse of "parvity of matter"~in our .elf-analysis. We are never likely to run short of raw ma, erial.'Our vows, our duties, the virtues we should practice, ,ur attitude to and our contacts with our neighbor--all ,r0vide us with food enough for reflection, and after re, iection, action. If it seems otherwise, then we know with ertainty that we are deceiving ourselves. Five loaves and wo fishes seemed at first a scanty meal for a few men; yet, _~lessed by our Divine Lord, they provided ample nourish- ,-tent for five thousand--and still there were left twelve ~askets of fragments. If we complacently survey our soul :nd can see little therein to engage our attention for long, ;'e need the blessing of Christ upon our efforts to detect ,ur infidelities; then we shall be kept busy indeed. Our poverty, for instance--what can we check on there? .~o great breach, perhaps, but are there no ,lesser infideli-ies? A practical distrust of Providence, for example; else ;,hy do we so often hoard up so much for such~remote ontingencies? How about our spirit of detachment? Why 11 those knick-knacks and bric-a-brac that so drearily ollect the dust in our rooms? They would be at home no loubt in a drawing room, but in a religious cell?. "But, ,f course, I should willingly give them up if the superior sked me for them." And how likely is that? Superiors rave surely more sense than to ask their subjects for lbums-of photographs, tawdry little souvenirs, showy ittle gewgaws, or even that battered copy of the New I'estament, guarded so jealously since profession day-- or its sentimental value only. VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ Or, as superiors, have we put purposes before persons; The purpose we have in mind, that is, before the .persons we should have in mind, those under us whom we are responsible to bring closer to Christ. Have we neglected to give them what we might have done well to give them, with the excuse that necessary retrenchments must be made in order to meet the expenses of some pet project of ours? Has there been an over-cautious pruning of certain preliminary expenses, which in the long run will impair the success of the complete scheme as a whole? We must be poor after the manner of Christ. The key: note of His way of living was simplicity. He did not create artificial needs; He did not hanker after what conduced' merely to comfort. He 'accepted what was given, when it was .given, and did not repine; He slept how, when, and Where He could, and was content; born in another man',, stable, He was buried in another man's tomb. All through His life, His indifference about means shines out: "Do no~ fret~ over your life"; "Be not solicitous, therefore.,' He showed practically His self-aband0nment to the provi: dential.care of His heavenly Father. Analysis of our practice of obedience is another useful mine of self-information. Perhaps our faith here has bei come imperceptibly weaker over the years; we are more conscious of the ,human limitations of the superior ~than we are of the fact that he represents Christ for us. (Yet suppose our Lord had seen the cross merely as a painful instrument of an ignominious death?) Would we not go freely and willingly to Christ to discuss our ideas, plans, suggestions-not trying to catch Him at an off-moment of distraction or when we know He is in a "good mood;!' or when we have paved the way for a successful issue b careless hints? Would we not abide by His decision, after discussion, He gave judgment against our petition~ so obviously to us the best for all concerned? If He were to order us tosome employment which we felt would only expose us to almost certain failure, with all its consequem mortification, we would surely not ~'twist and turn frenzied efforts at evasion. He needs our efforts to do Hi., work about as much :as the sun needs a candle to light thb world; but He does look 'for our good will. Or as superiors, remembering that the sole purpose ot the authority we hold from Christ is to bring those ~ndel us nearer to Him, have we really tried to understand sym pathetically the capabilities and limitations of those dis ciples of His? "Splendid isolation, may be all very well a~ a political slogan; it should be far from the mind of superior. The crown of thorns round the brow is probab!: inevitable; but no prickly thickets round the heart shouR render access difficult and even impossible. Man is, cording to Shakespeare, "dressed in a little brief autho~l ity," and should not play "such fantastic :tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep:" The donkey that bore our Lord into Jerusalem had his moment of triumph, felt the garments under his feet, saw the palm branches being waved as he passed, heard the hosannas and shouts of joy; but he would have been an ass indeed to assume that it was for him that the people were rejoicing. The manner in which we obey provides a wide field for examination. "Prompt, blind, and cheerful" is cer-tainly a high enough ideal. We need to ~be on our guard against any "delaying tactics" ("He may think better of it in a day or so") and against any disinclination to carry out what our own intelligence does not dommend. And if the Lord loves a cheerful giver, how much more is He pleased by. a hearty, willing obedience? Yet~how much disobedi-ence may be dignified by the name of manly self-assertion; and how often may pusillanimity usurp, the title of obedi-ence? We must obey as Christ obeyed. Had He not been obedient "unto death, even the death of the cross," we should not have been redeemed at all. He saw the will of His Father in everything that" befell Him, and "the things that are pleasing to Him.I' do always." Authority, even when vested in unworthy holders of office, whether malicious like Caiphas or weak like Pilate, always re-ceived from Him its due recognition, without servility or consideration of human motives. He knew that even such as these "would have no authority, unless it were given from above"; and since from above it.had been given, He submitted to itowith obedience and dignity. Yet even He, Son of God as He was, had to "learn obedience by the things He suffered." ¯ Our third vow, chastity, is perl~aps, best considered under its~ aspect of love, since serious failure here will not require examination, being self-evident. It is possible to allow our very pursuit of purity to blind us to its wider implications. If we. do not find in ourselves anything con-trary to our vow, we should thank God: "I could not other-wise be continent, except God gave. it." Yet are we in-tolerant and censorious of the peccadilloes of others? The "heart of iron for chastity" must not preclude the "heart of flesh for charity"; for "chastity-without charity shall be chained in hell." A mortal sin again~st charity.will kill the soul no less effectively than a mortal sin against chas-tity. Purity means that we long to love only God and for His sake all others. If self-complacent purity should lead to bitter, wounding remarks and unkind lack of considera-tion, we are completely missing the end of the sacrifice entailed by the vow; we might well ask: "To what purpose was this waste?" Again, it is surely only an incomplete view to confine ÷ ÷, ÷ Ex~mi~tlon o Comci~nce VOLUME 20, 1961 423 ÷ ÷ ÷ our warfare against "the flesh" to sexual temptations alone, Perhaps we may not indeed have offended here; but if faith wanes dim, and love waxes cold, there is the danger of the law of compensation creeping upon us unawares. We may tend to grow self-indulgent in smaller matters: to prolong our sleep unnecessarily, to be fussy over what we have to eat and drink, to be fastidious and finical about what we are given to wear, to show a marked disinclina-tion for work that is boring, disturbs our ease, or does not suit us. Purity should not preoccupy us so much that freedom from its grosser infringements blinds us,to the necessity of mortifying our senses--also "the flesh"--our taste, touch, ease, vanity. Nor should our natural propensity for friendship lead us to exclusiveness or to the loss of the spirit of prayer. Our human affections must not be put down, but put straight; they must not be kept under, but kept under con-trol. Controlled affection can be made to serve Christ's purposes; uncontrolled, our inclinations court disaster. What of Christ? His love was not jealous, mean, or petty; but magnanimous, and universal in its sweep. He did not shrink from self-denial in showing His love; He did not fear running the risk of others failing Him, as others did, like Judas,, Pilate, and the unknown "rich young man." All-embracing in its scope (although He too had His "special friends": John, Martha, Mary), His love went out to beggar and well-to-do, Pharisee and publican, virtuous and vicious. He showed no antipathy, no con-tempt towards any one of His creatures; there was nothing forced or spurious about His love, which was the perfect flowering of the all-holy purity of the Man-God. Our examen is, after all, the mirror we hold up to na-ture; a poor weak human nature,.no doubt, but one that all the more on that.account needs the mirror to reflect faithfully all its deficiencies. If we undertake this work more sincerely, more generously, in partnership with Christ, perhaps we shall find what we thought to be stumbling-blocks transformed by Him into ~stepping stones. Our examen will no longer have the dismal charac-ter of a solitary.visit to a desolate cemetery, but the hopeful quality of a pilgrimage with a Friend eager to help us. We may still discover dry bones aplenty on the face of the plain, but if faithfully we do our part, even of them also it may be said "I will give you spirit and you shall live." ~ Father A/dan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS MARTIN A. STILLMOCK; C.SS.R. Two Century Masterpiece "Of all my spiritual works, I should call this' one the best." These are the words spoken by St. Alphdnsus Maria de Ligouri on July 24, 1760, about his book, The True S~ouse ol Jesus Christ. When we consider that of the ope hundred eleven books and pamphlets written by the saint sixty-four ar6 ascetical works, this statement commands attention. The book in question could hardly be given higher praise. To understand why St. Alphonstis made this' remarl~- able utterance, it will' be well to consider the background of this book. As a founder of a religi6us congregation of missionary priests, as a popular and skilled retreat ~aster, and later as a bishop, St. Alpho. nsus was deeply concerned that llis priests and all priests should be learned and holy. To help priests in the field of learning he wrote his famous Mm:al Theology. To help prie,sts in their spiritual life he wrote his well known Selva which treats of the dignity and duties of the priest. All Christians know that there is no salvation for the world except through Jesus Christ. Now the ordinary channel of the world's salvation is the priesthood whic.h Christ instituted. Hence it was that Alphonsus loved so much to preach to priests and seminarians. And hence also it was that he wrote for them. He knew that the sanctification of one priest could mean the saving of thousands of souls that perhaps otherwise would not be saved. Alphonsus know he could put weapons into the hands of priests: weapons of theological learning, sermon material, ~naterial for retreats, missions, novenas. He could give them food for spiritual thought by combing spiritual writers, especially the fathers of the Church, and presenting their writings and ideas in a popular and interesting way. He could point out to priests the road to sanctity and the ways and means to attain holiness. All these weapons as well as many more St. Alphonsus, following Catholic tra-dition, put into the hands of pastors and missionaries for converting the world to Jesus Christ. But to insure success, he thought it necessary to supplement these weapons by Martin A. Stillmock, C.Ss:R., is engaged in parish work at St. A1- phonsus Church, 1118 North Grand Boule-vard, St. Louis 6, Mis-souri. ~OLUME 20, 1961 425 ÷ M. A. Stillmock, C.$s.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the prayers of all those who are consecrated to God by religious profession: In every day and age it has been difficult for people to understand the n~cessity and value of the contem-plative life. To mauy it seems a pious waste of time. The problem is that many of these people understand little or nothing of the communion of saints, even though they may believe in it as they profess in the Apostles' Creed. Consequently, they do not understand or even -begin to realize the value of intercessory prayer or suppli-cation. Why God created such an institution as the cloister and why He calls religious to lead lives of penance and pr.ayer is beyond them. But the saints understand the value of these" things; and Alphonsus, from long experience in working for the most. abandoned souls, realized fully how much priests and missionaries need the help of prayers for success in their priestly and missionary work. Whenever Alphonsus had a difficult mission before him, or when he knew strong resistance would be forthcoming from the great enemy of souls, he recommended himself to the prayers of ~:eligious who spend their lives in the presence of God. Alphonsus himself had founded an order of contem-pla'tive nuns, the Redemptoristines. For him they were the second branch of his apostolic congregation, the Redemptorists, While the missionaries were on the front battling [or souls whd were often deep in the clutches of the devil, these nuns raised their minds to "heave/i, like Moses on the mountain, and by 'their prayers and pen-ances obtained the victory. . It was thoughts such as these which impelled A1- phonsus to write The True'Spouse of Jesus Christ. In the volume he says to the religious souls for whom he is writing: You should be :useful to all, especially by yqur prayers. A!l the spouses of our Lord should be zealous for His honor. He Himself said to St. Teresa: "Now that you are My spouse, you must work with zeal for My glory." Indeed, if the souls so ~logely united to Jesus do not take His interests to heart, who will do so? Our Lord has promised to hear anyone who prays to Him. In your prayers, then, at your communions, during the visit to the Blessed Sacrament, recommend to God all poor sinners, infidels, heretics~ and those Who live without God. And Alphonsus goes.on to say: Our Lord Himself asks this of His. special servants. He said to a venerable nun one day: "Help me by your prayers to save souls"; and to St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi: "See, My daughter, how Christians are in the hands of the evil onel If My elect did not deliver them by their prayers, they would become the prey of that monster." This prompted the counsel which she gave to her religious: "My dear sisters, God has withdrawn, us from the world to save our own' souls, of course, but also that we may satisfy His mercy by interceding for sinners. We shall have to account for the loss of many souls if we neglect to recommend them to God." For this reason she never let an hour of the day go by without prayir[g /0r sinners. Another servant of our Lord did penance for forty years and applied it all to the salvation of souls in need of divine grace. Oh, how many sinners there are who owe their conversion not so much to the sermon of the preacher as to the prayers of some holy re-ligiousl It was revealed to a celebrated orator that the conversions apparently worked by him were not attributable to his elo-quence but to the prayers of the lay brother who sat at th~ foot of the pulpit. Pray then for sinners, and pray also for priests that they may work with true zeal for the salvation of souls. But if religious are to be powerful intercessors with our Lord, it can be only on condition that they be His true spouses. Therefore, just as he did for priests, A1- phonsus treats at length of the duties of religious women. While reading this book, weshould keep in mind that in the eighteenth century many abuses had crept into the cloister. The spirit-of the times breathed laxity, tepidity, and worldliness. A1phonsus was not one to use half meas-ures, and in many instances his language is strong. But his one big purpose is to preach holiness. He does this by pointing out what virtues should be specially practiced, and he prescribes, the means for wiping qut abuses. It may be thought that St. Alphonsus wrote Thk True Spouse solely for cloistered or contemplative nuns. He certainly had° thegn in :mind, but not exclusively. In his preface the saint himself tells us: This work, as appe.ars from the title, is intended particularly for nuns. However, only a small part of it is directed exclusively to them; the remainder, but especially what regards the ob-servance of the vows of religion, regular discipline, and the per-fection of the religious state, is equally suitedto religious of all congregations; and what regards the Christian virtues will be found highly useful even for seculars. What is to be found in The True Spouse? Practically every facet of the spiritual life is treated, The saint starts off his work by treating of the merits of virgins who have consecrated themselves to God. He goes on to state the advantages of the religious state and how religious should belong wholly to God. He speaks of the desire religious should have for perfection and then warns that imper-fect religious are exposed tb danger. The necessity of combating self love is treated. After treating of interior mortifications, the saint goes on to speak of exterior mortification of the appetite, of the senses of hearing and touch, and of the eyes. The book also contains a long treatise on poverty, its perfection, its degrees and practice, the detachment it involves from relatives and other persons. Closely allied to poverty is humility; the saint here discusses its ad-wmtages, the nature of humility of the intellect, heart, and will, and patience in bearifig contempt. ÷ ÷ ÷ Two Century Masterpiece VOLUME 20, 1961 4. M. d. Stillmo¢l¢, C.Ss.R. There is a beautiful chapter on fraternal charity, fol-lowed by one on patience, a virtue that leads to resig-nation to the will of God. Then follows a treatment of mental prayer, its necessity as well as its practice. From there the saint points out the importance and necessity of silence, solitude, and the presence of God. The topic of spiritual reading forms a chapter in itself. The True Spouse contains a long treatment on the frequentation of the sacraments of confession and com-munion. Under confession the saint has a consoling and practical treatise on scruples: what they are, how they are hurtful, their remedy and a practical application. Prayer and purity of intention form two more chapters. A work of this type would not be complete for St~ Alphonsus unless he devoted some space, to the Holy Mother of God. First, Alphonsus contends that no true servant of Mary can be lost; then he goes on to show who are to be considered true servants of Mary. Following the chapter on devotion to Mary is one on the love of Christ, the obligation of a religious to iove Him, and the means of acquiring this love. The saint concludes his work with particular admoni-tions for superiors, novice mistresses, and so on. In the last chapter he gives a rule of life for the religious who desires to become a saint. This includes the treatment of such things as the Divine Office, hearing of Mass, exami-nation of conscience, necessity of banishing melancholy, recreation. The True Spouse even has an appendix con-taining such considerations as a summary of the virtues which the religious who wishes to become a saint should practice, spiritual maxims for religious, and aspirations of love for Christ. Very few books written almost exclusively for religious women handle such a wide and practical range of treat-ment. As one German translator of The True Spouse observes: This book, written as it is with great fo~'ce and piety, contains the.q.uintessence of ascetic theology and is a practical ex-posmon of the virtues of the religious life. I have no hesitation in saying that the reader will find in it all that has been written by ancient and modern writers on the subject of spirituality. It sums up a multitude of books and gives all that the holy author has developed at greater length in other writings on the same matters. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 428 MARCEL MARCOTTE; S.J. Health and Holiness Father, it seems that for the majority of priests, a person suffering from neurosis is condemmed to stand in one spot marking time with no chance of advancing in the spiritual life. I take it that you are not of that opinion, and 1 am so glad. Your opinion confirms my own per-sonal experience and that ol others who have confided in me. When a person is unbalanced in some way, one at once thinks that there has been some frustration in the past of his emotional needs. In most cases this is true. But do not certain neuroses grow worse because of a conflict be-tween the profound need of God which we experience on the one hand and, on the other, the behavior we are led to persist in, sometimes, under the influence o[ the guidance we receive? It seems to me that the more aspir-ing and straightforward a soul is, the more woeful can be certain mistakes in spiritual direction. I think that there is a tendency among religious and priests to make too little of the needs of the soul. Spiritual writers teach clearly that in order to reach God, the soul must proceed by a series of purifications suited to its spiritual progress. But how many spiritual advisors grasp that when the time comes? They seem to think that this was written more for initiates in the spiritual life. But I think that such ideas could be carried over with great profit into many ordinary .lives. Don't you agree? IfI we sidestep debating certain merely incidental ele-ments in this letter so as to throw into relief its main point, the question it asks can be put thus: Does our sanctification depend on our psychological balance as well as, in some degree, on our bodily health and the sound condition of our nerves? Pascal, who was all his life a _very sick and anxiety-haunted man, declared that "ill, ness impairs the judgement and the senses . " "If great 1:This article is translated with permission from Relations, March, . 1961, pp. 64-66. The translation is by George Courtright. 4. 4. 4. Marcel Marcotte, S.J., teaches at the ColI~ge Sainte Marie, 1180 rue Bleury, Montreal 2, Canada. VOLUME 20, 1961 Mar~e! Mav¢otte, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 430 illness," he says plainly, "visibly alters them, I have no doubt at all that minor illnesses have a proportionate fect." This opinion, dictated by the personal experience of a man of genius who was, also, in his own way, a kind of saint, ought doubtless to be kept in mind. How-ever, recent discoverie~ in psychology together with the teaching of experience and certain data of theology lead us to qualify it. Does our relationship with God really depend upon our physical and psychological formation, which, while in us, is, for all that, not us? Are we to be marked in ad-vance for sanctity or for spiritual mediocrity by reason of our temperament, i the condition of our endocrine glands, certain accidents of education, or traumas ex-perienced in the course of life which definitively open or close to us the approaches"to Christian perfect~ion? "The will of God," says St.Paul, "is ,that' you become saints." But is this divine will concerned only with people who have perfectly healthy and well-balanced bodies and minds? Does sanctity reser~b!e some sort of royal feast to which only a small number of chosen guests--great lords and noble ladies with impressive names--are to be in-vited, while the great mass of the faithful must be satis-fied with the crumbs of the banquet? This would be .a surprising and rather scandalous thing. God, in His giving, remains free, but when once He has granted, in baptism, the first, essential gift ("if you knew the gift of Godl" Jesus said to the Samaritan woman), then that spring of living water, which has just penetrated by grac~ into the Christian soul, must inexhaustibly "gush from his breast into eternal life." For the gift of God is nothing else but God Himself, from whom life pours out, diffuses itself, and irresistibly increases in the Christian so as to make him achieve his full height, his complete stature in Christ. S~ill, we must yield to the evidence: Not all Christians are saints--far from it--for indeed if God's gift is to produce its fruit of sanctity in the soul, the Christian must cooperate freely with the ~ace that is offered him. But the usual effects of original sin make this free co-operation very difficult for the normal Christian. Besides this, in many instances, the exercise of freedom is en-cumbered by" special difficulties which render infinitely more unpredictable the conformity of our acts in life to moral standards and the higher dem~inds of sanctity. "It is hard to practice Christian virtue," Alexis Carrel says, "when one suffers from a glandular deficiency." Edu-cators, judges,-moralists, and spiritual directors realize today how important a role the body plays in the origin and development of certain 'kinds of moral, social, and spiritual weaknesses. Chrtesian dualism no longer has currency; we have learned to, recognize ;and admit the. reciprocal influence of the body and the soul~ on .the physical and mental health of human beings. Psycho-somatic medicine, for its 'part, is ready to take into ac-count complications on the physical and bodily level arising from the psychic; why should not .Catholic moral-ity and spiritual teaching,, in turn, take into account the, repercussion of sick organs and nerves upon the interior, psychic life? "Man," says Pascal again, '~is neither angel nor beast, and ill luck would have it that he who would play the angel plays the beast."-" Furthermore, physical health: is not alohe concerned here. Depth psychology has shown (doubtless to the. point;, of sa.t.iety) that the evolution of a religious and moral personality, is linked to the dynhmic'drives of ifiapulses and tendencies of instinct, and emotion which we carry along with us from earliest infancy to adult life. Ac-cording as the liquidation of ce.rtain psychi~ conflicts has been more or less successful, habit~ and moral or spirit-ual attitudes assume very different characters. In certain instances, repression and sublimation will facilitate ,the practice of virtue and thai.pursuit'of sanctity; in others, they will make virtue and holiness, at least in appearance, very difficult or even altogether impossible. Therefore, in the quest for God, the-Christian must not only adapt himself to his nature as he finds it, but, in ad-dition, undergo to a degree very difficult to estimate the inbuilt necessities springing from the past. Why seek to deny it? There are ill-favored creatures who, so far from being naturally equipped to live a truly spiritual life, are not even fit to live a life in accordance with common morality. They will never be so thoroughly good as they might otherwise be simply for lack of discipline and con-tr61 aiid will drag along through weakness after weakness t6'~the end of their lives. Their sense of judgement is warped, their wills debilitated: how can they aspire to personal holiness? Yet, is sanctification to be made de-pendent on the chance that on~ has or has not a healthy hormone balance, or that one is blest in one's psycho-logical makeup or has been guccessfully educated? Some-times, it takes so little (a thyroid'deficiency, the awkward or rough meddling of a teacher) to change the course of one's life. "If Cleopatra's nose had been shorter . " Is the longing of a Christian for sanctity to be similarly sub-ject to accident, to that "grain of sand in the ureter" which, according to Pascal, upset the, Whole map of Europe? To avoid so scandalous a notion, we must first take care to have a right idea of the meaning of sanctification. We must not'confuse it with the attainment of purely human perfection or even~ with the moral perfection Health and Holiness VOLUME 201 1961 43! ÷ ÷ ÷ Marcel Marcotte, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 432 which makes saints so attractive. In essence, sanctification is the act by which God divinizes man. This action occurs in the spiritual order, an order the harmonies of which are not necessarily echoed in the outward behavior and visible appearance of the man God has sanctified. In re-lation to this action, one's psychological makeup is of no importance. Whether a man be endowed with a nature favorable to the acquiring of virtue or is a neurotic ob-sessed by the flesh or by guilt or scruples, it is enough for him to say "Yes" to God, to cling to Him in his soul of souls, beyond all temptation, all childish fear, in order to be swathed in divine grace and himself made divine. On this point, Saint Francis de Sales says: It is beyond question true that our souls ordinarily take on something of the traits and tone of our bodily lower nature . A body weakened and distracted by much pain cannot but in-hibit the vigor and spontaneity of the soul in its performances. But nothing of this is in anyway prejudicial to the spiritual actions of the soul. As pleasing to God as such actions can be when done among all tlie pleasures of the world, they are even more so when done with greater trouble and pain . We must not be unjust to ourselves and demand more of our-selves than we can do. When our bodies and our health give us trouble, we must, at such a time, expect of the soul only acts of submission and resignation and that holy union of ou~' wills with the good pleasure of God, which is formed in the highest reaches of the soul. As for our outward actions, we must direct and perform them as best we can and be conr tent therewith, though our hearts mislike it and the going be slow and heavy. Nevertheless, the fac( remains that sanctity, in the usual sense of the word, requires certain conditions, which are not given to everyone. For example, an idiot finds himself, as such, incapable of that renunciation of sin and of that assent to grace which are essential ,in the spiritual life. Just as a certain healthiness of the nervous system is needed before the moral consciousness can un-fold, So, too, in the order of sanctity, a certain psychologi-cal healthiness is necessary before that love, thanks to which one renounces sin in order to give oneself utterly to God, can unfold. In what does this healthiness consist, without which sanctity becomes impossible~not that sanctity which exists in the hidden mystery, of the sou! but the sanctity we find in the faces, in the words and the actions of those whom we call saints? There are certain characteristics, certain somatic and psychological qualifications which are necessary so that the fruit Of divine grace .may grow and show itself in the form of Christian virtues: for ex-ample, mildness, temperance, purity, brotherly love. If there are serious deficiencies in one's makeup, the soul will struggle vainly to remain faithful; all its efforts, at least in appearance, will remain useless. True, in the eyes of God, "who searches the reins and the heart," all these struggles, endlessly abandoned and endlessly lost, will have contributed to the sanctification of the soul. But for the bystander, and often for the soul itself, hypnotized by its own weakness, this mystei~ious but real sanctifica-tion will never be verified. It will not even be verifiable. It may even happen that priests and experienced spiritual directors will fail to recognize the value and the merit of these hard-fought spiritual battles which always end in a checkmate. But such a lack of understanding--wit-ness the lives of the saints---often forms a part of the means God uses for the spiritual progress of souls. It is a kind of night added to that night in which souls struggle only to make the darkness darker and faith more meri-torious. Yet, the darker the night, the nearer, the more lovely the stars. "Close your eyes, and you will seel ." God has a way all His own of dealing with the emptiness surrounding the soul. It is at the moment when He ap-pears to be forevermore far away that He is often closest. "If you had already found Me," God says to Pascal, "you would not look for Me." The important thing, then, is the search for God, the effort, as the accepted phrase is, toward sanctity while trying evermore in one's life to accept the divine will, even when that will rules that we make our way toward God stumblingly, foundering in the earth like plough-oxen, we who were made to fly high in the heavens like eagles. There are two kinds of saints, says Father Beirnaert. There are the saints with ill-favored and difficult personalities, that mass of people ridden with anxiety, aggressiveness, and love of the body, all those who bear the intolerable weight of having been born as they were, those whose blighted hearts will al-ways be nothing but a knot of snakes, unlucky because they were born with repulsive faces, or because they have never been able to identify themselves with a father. They are those who, unlike St. Francis, will never in their lives charm a bird or pet a wolf of Gubbio; those who sin and will sin again; who will grieve till the day they die, not because they lost their temper a little but because they keep on committing the same filthy, unmentionable action. They are that vast crowd whose sanctity will never shine out in this world through their personalities, who will rise up only on the last day to glitter, finally, in eternity. They are saints without the honor of the name. At their side are the saints blest with attractive personalities, the pure, strong, sweet saints, the model saints, the canonized saints and the saints fit to be canonized, saints with hearts as free and wide as the seasho~'e; saints whose being, like a per-fectly tuned harp, forever sings out the glory of God; wonderful saints, who encourage the advances of grace and in whom we touch a grace-transfigured nature--the recognized, the cele-brated, the great saints, who trail a shining splendor through history. Both kinds of saints are brothers. Those saints whose per- 4- 4- 4- l;ealth and Holiness VOLUME 20, 1961 sonalities are haunted by m'onsters and those in whom angels dwell have the same basic experience, and they speak Of God and of themselves in the same words. They are of the same bourn, the same world; a world where the only grief is to find oneseff so unworthy of God, and the only happinesg is to be loved by Him and to try to give Him love for love. For us, here below, they are different. Before God, they are alike. And we shall see this in the day of the Lord Jesus (Etudes, t. 266, pp. 63-64). Once more, pure holiness can and sometimes must adapt itself to certain bodily and psychological states which will give their stamp to the outward aspect and ac, tions of a Christian, without, for all that, compromising his inner adherence to the divine will and, therefore, without hurting the life of charity in him. "In the evening of'life," says St. John of the Cross, "we shall be judged~on our love." For each and all of us, it is simply a question of love and, therefore, of choosing, according to the meas-ure of freedom that has been given us, between good and bad, between the perfect and the imperfect. In propor-tion to this, God Himself comes to meet us so as to share His life more intimately with us, before finally, bringing us into His beatitude. ÷ ÷ .÷ Marcel Marcotte, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 434 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M., ' ' The ,Superior's Predept and God S Will One of the first pro~ositions a.tyro meets in a religious novitiate ,is one to the~effect that a '~superior's directive is "an expression of God's wilV' for .him': If'a religious wishes to know what God' desires of him,~ he need only listen to;accept, and execute the~precepts of his superior. Unfortunately, this early lesson'-'is subject to ambiguity and confusion. And more unfortunately, it can happen that the novice may embrace for life an incorrect interpre-tation of the~,ambiguity or he may simply, practice reli-gious obedience in a pekdffring cloud ofmisunderstand-ing. Does a superior "manifest,God's will" to a subject? If. he does, what does the expression mean? If he does not, ought we to modify our instruction°on this facet of obe-dience? Before attempting an immediate answer to" these, ques-tions, I should like to ask the reader to consider'a philo-sophical and theological antecedent; namely, the problem of how a man can conform his will to the divine will. A conference or retreat master ,can easily advise his listeners to conform their wills to the will of God, but to what ex-tent this conformity is possible and how itls to be achieved is not at all so simple as might appear on the surface. And-, yet a mature and accurate understanding of religious obe-dience would seem to require that we delve beneath the surface and discover~ what-precisely~ we are doing when we obey. For the attainment of this understanding we can follow no better guide than St. Thomas Aquinas. To tinderstand the Angelic Doctbr's doctrine on the precise °fiaanner in which a man is bound to conform his will to the divine will, we must, as Thomas does, dis-tinguish betweeh what may be called a material and a formal conformity.1 In an act of willifig we notice that there are two elements involved: the thing willed and the 1 Summa theologiae, 1-2, q. 19, a. 10~, c. ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M., is spiritual director at Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 South Carrollton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisiana. VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay,. S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 436 motive for willing it. Willing an act of kindness, for ex-ample, implies first of all, the sundry components of the benign deed, and, secondly, the motive or reason for willing that deed. The activity willed (here, the kind deed) is called the material element, while the motive or the reason~why (for example, love for God) is the formal element. It can happen that even when they will opposite real-ities two created wills can be good provided their- motives are good. St. Thomas uses the example of ttie execution of a thief. The judge wills his death, whereas the thief's wife does not will it. The wills are opposed as regards the material element, the fact of the executiori; but they can both be good provided the judge wills the death for a good reason (thecommon welfare) and the wife opposes that death for some evil consequent on it (for example, harm to her family). Because the judge has care for a more universal good, the community, and the wife for a less universal one, her family, both can will opposites and yet be good as long as their reasons are worthy. The° reader will understand that we .are not suggesting that any action at all may become morally good merely by the presence of a good motive. A man may not stem five dollars in order to buy his wife an anniversary gift. We are simply stating that two wills can at times be opposed regarding one action and yet both be willing rightly. We are now in a position to apply this principle to our problem of conformity to God's will. As St. Thomas points out, God as the Maker and Governor of the whole universe knows and wills .whatever He wills under the aspect of the universal good, which is His very goodness. A created will, on the other hand, knows some particular good and sometimes wills it for some reason that is good on a particular scale but not good from the point of view of, the more universal. For example, the avoidance of a spanking is a good from the particular or limited aspect of a child's physical well being, but itsoadministration may be better from the universal and wider aspect of his whole welfare and that of the family. In orde~ for a man to Will well some particular good he must refer it somehow, to the universal good; that is, to God. This referral, this motivation to the last end is the formal element in willing and must be present in a volitional act in order for that act to be rightly ordered. A man, therefore, conforms0his will to the divine will when he refers all that he does to God, since God Himself refers all to His own glory. This is a formal conformity and must always be present in a human act. A man, how-ever, need not and cannot always materially conform his will to the divine will as regards particular acts. It is sufficient that those particular acts be good in themselves and be referred to God, for in so acting man is operating as God wants him to operate~ even though God may not actually will this or that particular act. Hence, a material conformity to the divine will is ,not always required or even possible. Why do we say that a material Conformity to God's will is not always required or even possible? The reason is simple~ We often do not know what God wills as re-gards particular acts. We surely know that He wills us to do all for His sake, but that is a formal conformity, the ordering of all to Him. On.the other hand,.we~frequently do not know whether He .prefers.us to do on~ thing rather than another. I know He wants me'to tell-the truth when I am rightly questioned, but I do not know with certitude whether in ten minutes I should still be writing or visit-ing the BlesSed Sacrament. I know He wants me to obey canon law and my religious rule/but I may not know whe!her He really desires that I make~ tfii.s or that ex-cepaon to them. What ought I to do in these cases? I shbuld use my reason, follow the principles~of.sound ~asceticai theolggy, and exercise the virtue of supernatural prudence. God undoubtedly wiils that I do these latter, but the fact re-mains that once I have made my decision there may or may~ not be a material confOrmity between my will and His. Such,' however, is quite a Satisfactory situation pro-vided that what I do is good and is ordered to Him. In other words, material .conformity may' be lacking, but formal conformity may not. , ~pp!ication to Religious Obediencei: Can we, then, say that a religious Superior manifests tile will of God when he gives' a directive to his subjects? Surely, if the superior merely reiterates a precept of the natural or divine laws, he is indicating the divine will, but he is hardly manifesting it. ,That will is usually al-ready manifested to the subject, 'remotely by human tea, son or supernatural revelation, and proximately by in-struction he has received. As regards other matters (and they are commonly practical on~s) the superior cannot be said tO manifest the divine intention for the obvious rea-son that he does not know what the divine intention' is. If Father Superior tells Father Jones to suspend convert instruction classes during the summer, he is not neces, sarily manifesting God's will to Father Jones. Short of a private revelation Father Superior cannot know with certitude whether God really desires that suspension or not. All he can °do is.Use his experience, reason, and supernatural prudence in coming to a,decision and then hope he is doing what God wants. When Mother Pro-vincial assigns Sister Alice to teaching rather than to ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior's Precept VOLUME 20, 1961 437 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS nursing, Mother is not necessarily declaring the divine mind, because God may actually know that Sister Alice is better fitted to be a'nurse. I would say, then, that, simply speakin.g, a religious superior does not manifest God's will when he issues a command. In an improper sense, however, the superior may be said to manifest God's willAn his precept insofar as God wishes the subject to carry~ out what His representative has commanded. While it is true-that the fulfillment of this command is willed by God, yet the command itself does not properly manifest'anything but the superior's intention. I think it would be re.ore correct to say that by his precept a superior gives his subject the opportunity to do God's will, that is, to obey. It would seem wise, therefore, not to use this.expr~ession in an improper sense because it is misleading and confusi.ng. There-is no mani-festation of what we may call the content of God's will. By his obedience, then,, a religious conforms his will formally to the divine will when he orders his obedience to the divine glory through the virtue of charity. There is, secondly, a material conformity insofar as God wills this precept to, be carried out. There may or may not be, thirdly, a material conformity as regards the content of the precept. The reader will notice that our whole position on the superior's inability to manifest with certitude the con-tent of the ~livine will rests on his ignorance of that will. Hgw can~we establish that ignorance? Really, it needs no establishing because it is obvious on a moment's" reflec-tion. St. Thomas himself saw no difficulty about the matter. "Although we cai~not know a proper end, we can know the ultimate end from whom issues all the goodness found in proximate ends, so t.hat we may direct all we do to God, who made all things for Himself."z "The just on earth, whose will clings to the divine goodness, and yet do not so perfectly contemplate it (as the blessed do) that they clearly see the ordering ofoevery actiop to it, are conformed to the divine will as regards thos_e things whose character th~ey perceive . ,,s The Saint's last remark is most clear: "In particulars we do not know what God wills, and a~s regards.these we are not bound to conform our will to the divine will.''4 ~ St. Thomas readily admits our ignorance of the divine will in many details of human life, the proximate ends as he calls them. We need. only apply his thought to reli-gious obedience and _we have the basis on which our above explanation rests. But can a superior because of his sharing in the divine 1 Sententiae, d. 48, q. l, a. 3, ad 6; see also article 4. De veritate, q. 23, a. 8, c. Summa thkologiae, 1-2, q. 19, a. 10, ad I. ruling authority somehow claim to set forth what we have called the content of the divine will? I think not. No man, be he superior, equal, or inferior, can rightly claim to manifest the mind of God unless God in some way re-veals His mind and ratifies, the claim. God's mind is God and~He is unsearchable. Hence, if a mere man may be said to make known God's mind or His will, that man must have some divine-assurance that such is the case. Does the religious superior have this assurance when he directs his subordinates in the observance of their vows and constitutions? The teaching Church, the Roman~ Pontiff and the bishops in union with him, certainly enjoy this assurance when they intend tobind in their authentic teaching (See Mt 16: 16"19; 18: 18; Lk 10: 16; Jn 20:21).~But does a re-ligious superior as such share in these divine commissions in any way that would permit him to claim that he, too, reflects the .divine will in 'his decisions? We ~may note, first of all, that on the one hand a religious superior, qua : talis, does not possess any special teaching authority in : the Church. On the other, Plus XII made it clear that the i ruling power of ~'eligious superiors is,;a participation in the divinely received ruling power of the Supreme Pontiff ~ himself. Speaking to.the superiors general of orders and .~ to other religious superiors, the Holy Father remarked -" thgt "you have been appointed tO a certain participation " in Our apostolic office," and then enlarged his thought: "Thus in this,.part of Our office, most beloved sons, delegating to you some of Our supreme jurisdiction, either directly by the code of canon law or by your insti-tutes and their rules approved by Us, and setting the foundations of your power which is called 'dominative,' We have assumed you as sharers in Our supreme office. Hence, it is that We are .very much concerned that you exercise your authority according to Our mind and that of the Church.'5 Does this participation in the apostolic governing power give a religious superior some capability to manifest God's will? To answer this last question we must distinguish be tween a mere ruling power and a teaching pbwer. Even the Church herself~, does not claim infallibility in as, pects of her universal laws unconnected with doctrine, and therefore, she does not claim in them to bg represent-ing what we have been terming the content of the divine mind. In setting twenty-four years as the minimum age for the reception of the priesthood even the Holy See would not'claim that it knows the content of the divine mind on that question. While God may conceivably prefer some other age limitation, yet it is His will that 6 Translated from L'osservatore romano, February 12, 1958, p. I. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior'$ Precepg VOLUME 20, 1961 439 ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 440 bishops obey the Church's actual determination of twenty-four years. If the hierarchy itself, divinely endowed with a right to govern men to eternal life, cannot at times be sure that its laws express exactly the divine preference, it can come as a surprise to no one that we deny any such certainly to a religious superior who merely participates in the Church's ruling authority on a delegated basis. When a provincial superior of religious men appoints a priest to the mission band or when a local superior of religious women directs a sister to wax the floors on Saturday morning, it is not objectively sure that the priest is best suited for mission work or that the sister ought not rather be doing background reading in her teaching field. Yet it remains true that both the priest and the sister may be sure that God wills them to give missions and wax the floors respectively. While the two superiors may not6 have manifested the content'of the divine will, both of them have issued directives that God, as a matter of fact, wants implemented by two religious who have received two specific precepts. Even though the religious superior does rule through a participation in a divinely-given governing authority, he has nonetheless received no divine assurance that his commands are always going to conform to the objective truth of things. The subject, then, sees God in his supe-rior not in the sense that the superior's word must be taken as God's own word, but only in the sense that the superior's command is .given by one who has God's authority to give it. The distinction is important. On the one hand it obviates the untenable conclusion that a re-ligious superior is immune from error in his decisions as superior, and on the other it preserves the necessary postulate that a superior's precept is given on no mere human basis. In view of what we have said one could hardly miss the conclusion that a religious superior ought to weigh carefully the directives he gives. Even though it would be unreasonable to expect him to be objectively right in each of his decisions, yet he should make every effort consonant with the gravity of the matter.to be objectively right. Because he rules with a divinely authorized delega-tion, he should take care that his directives be as closely in accord with the divine intentions as possible. Reli-gious government by whim, directives issued by worldly prudence, commands based on favoritism, prejudice, or misinformation are wholly unbecoming in men and women who rule in such wise that their precepts some-e Our use of the word "may" indicates naturally enough that the two superiors may, as a matter of fact, be indicating the content of the divine will. "May not" suggests also "may." how flow from a divine authorizati+n. Traits of the good superior, then, most assuredly include supernatural pru-dence, a personal selflessness, and a willingness to take and follow counsel. We must note correlatively~that what we have said in this article does not absolve a subject from a perfect obedience to his superior. The fact that God may not "agree" that the decision contained in a particular com-mand is the wisest of all choices does not mean that the subject does well in refusing an obedience of execution, will, and intellect (the last, insofar as it is possible). In other words, our discussion is meant to clarify, not to damage the perfection of our obedience. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior's Precept VOLUME 20, 1961 44! R. F. SMITH, S.J. Survey of Roman Documents ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, S.], REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS In this article those documents will be summarized wliich appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis during June and July, 1961. All page references in the article will be to the 1961 Acta (v. 53). A New Encyclical On May 15, 1961 (pp. 401-64), Pope John XXIII is-sued a new encyclical, Mater et Magistra (Mother and Teacher), to commemorate the seventieth anniversary of Pope Leo XIII's encyclical on social matters, Rerum Novarum. In the introduction to his encyclical, the Pope observed that just as Christ, though primarily interested in the spiritual welfare of men, was also concerned with their material welfare, so also the Church takes care of the spiritual good of men without neglecting their ma-terial, economic, and cultural needs. Passing to the first of the four parts into which the encyclical is divided, His Holiness sketched the evils of the economic and social situation of the nineteenth cen-tury, evils which occasioned Rerum Novarum. The Holy Father then listed the chief principles of Catholic social doctrine as laid down by Leo XIII and as afterwards en-larged and amplified by Pius XI and Pius XII. In the second part of Mater et Magistra, the Vicar of Christ took up and developed certain points of the teach-ing found in Leo XIII's document. While the economic order/ he pointed out, is the. creation of the personal initiative of private citizens, still the State must see to it that economic development benefits all the citizens. This, however, must be done in accordance with the principle of subsidiarity enunciated by Pius XI in Quadragesimo Anno, a principle which protects the personal initiative of individual persons. In this connection the Pontiff con-sidered the matter of modern economic and social plan-ning which involves public authorities in matters as crucial as the care of health or the controlling of pro-fessional careers: Such planning, he remarked, brings many advantages and satisfies many personal rights;, how-ever, it also makes juridical control of hurfian relations more detailed and creates an atmosphere which makes initiative and responsibility difficult. Hence, such plan-ning should be realized in such a way as to draw from it all its advantages and to remove or restrain its disadvan-tages. ¯ .," Pope John then turned to consider the question of "the remuneration to be given to workers. ~AI1 workers, he af-firmed, should be given a wage that:allows them to live a truly human, life and to face with dignity their family responsibilities. Other factors;~.however; must alsb be considered: the worker's effective contribution to produc-tion, the economic state of the enterprise, ~he require-ments of the common good,both of the country and of the entire world~ " The economic'wealth of a people,., the Pontiff went on to say, must not be judged merely.by, its total aggregate wealth, bht also by its efficacious distributidn~throughout the entire populace. One of the most desirable ways of achieving this distribution~ is to permit th~ w6~kers to participate in the ownership of the enterprise. One last necessity for a just economic system was,underscored by the P6pe'when he obseiwe6that~if the structure of an economic system is suEh~that it compromises human dig-nity by systeinatically removing a" sense of-responsibility and of initiative in the 'worker, then .the system is un-just, even though through it riches are accumulated and distributed according to the rules of justice and equity. Hence the continuing importance today of artisan and co-operative enterprises. And in large enterprises, workers should have an active part, the enterprise becoming a real community with relations between employer and employee marked by mutual appreciation, understand-ing, and co-operation and by a mutual,grasp, of,:th~ en-terprise not,merely as a source of income but,,as the ful-fillment of a duty and°the rendering of a service.:~Workers, he.said, should not be reduced to being merely execu'tors of work, entirely passive in regard to decisions that regu-late their activity. Here the Pope stressed the desirability of associations of workers and the need that the influence of workers'should be extended beyond the limits of~their individual productive units. The Holy Father turned next to the matter of. private property, observing that the modern growth of the dis-~- tinction between the ownership of capital and the man: agement of the larger economic entities, the increase of social insurance and security, and the greater confidence in income and rights from, labor,rather'than from capital ÷ ÷ ÷ Roman, Documen~ VOLUME ;'0, ÷ ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 444 do not diminish the natural right of private ownership. This right, he said, is fouflded on the priority of individ-ual human beings as compared with society,,is necessary for free and personal initiative in the economic field, and prevents the stifling of freedom. Not only must the right to private property be recognized; equally neces-sary is the recognition of the natural right of its effective distribution among all social classes; added to this must be the acknowledgement that a social function is intrinsi-call~ linked with the right, of private property, for the goods of the earth have been destined by God for the worthy support of. all human beings. In the third part of the encyclical, Pope John took up a consideration of new socio-economic problems that face the modern world. First among these is the extensive exo-dus of farm populations to urban centers. While many reasons lie behind this exodus, the Pope pointed out that among these reasons is the fact that the farm sector lags behind other sectors, in productivity of labor and in living standards. Hence public authorities should see that essential services (education, roads, utilities, and so forth) in the country are suitably developed. Improved produc-tion methods and selective agriculture should be encour-aged. In the assessment of taxes, it should be remembered that in ,farming returns come slowly and are exposed to greater risks; the same considerations should lead to a special credit policy for farmers. Social security and in-surance systems should not give farmers allowances sub-stantially lower than those granted to industrial and other' sectors; there should be an effective system to protect farm prices. At the same time, rural workers should keep in mind the rights and interests of other types of workers as well as those of the common good. They should con-ceive their work both as a vocation and as a mission, as a call ~from God and as a contribution to human civili-zation, The Holy Father next took up the matter of relations between developed and underdeveloped countries. Hu-man solidarity as. well as the doctrine of the Mystical Body forbids that political communities with abundant resources remain indifferent tO the misery and hunger of underdeveloped-areas. Countries with an excess of consumer goods, especially farm products,, should give emergency, aid to the indigent and needy of other coun-tries. This, however, should be ,accompanied by scientific, technical, and financial help to remove the causes of *underde~elopment. In the execution of this aid, social progress should grow simultaneously With economic progress, the native characteristics of the country should be respected, and political interestedness--another name [or colonialism--should be avoided. In giving such aid, it should always be remembered that technology, economic development, and material well-being are and must re-main secondary to spii~itual values. At this point the Pontiff showed how the entrance of the Church into a country has always restilted in social and econbfiaic better-ment. With regard to the problem of the increase in popula-tion and the sufficiency of mea'ns of sustenance, the Vicar of Chi'ist remarked that in a view of the world as a whole there does°not seem tobe at least for the moment and the near future a great difficulty. In any.case ~here is no need for solutions such as birth control which offend the moral order established by God. Even in individual countries and regions where there is an actual dispib'- portion between population arid means of sustenance, such means can not be used. The true solution is to be found only in economic development and in social prog-ress brought about in a moral atmosphere. "A provident God," he stated, "grants sufficient means to the human race to solve in dignified fashion even .the many and del-icate problems attendant upon the transmission of life." The last of the problems to be considered by the Pope was that of world co-operation. All problems of any importance, he began, present today supranational and often world dimensions. Hence the different political -communities can not solve such problems on their own and by themselves; accordingly there is a need for mutual °understanding; such understanding, however, is pre-vented today because of the mistrust and fear among nations. This mistrust exists because some political leaders do not recognize the existence of a moral order that is based or/ God. And without God, c6ncluded the Pontiff, science and technology are powerless to con-struct a civilization. In the fourth and last part of the encyclical, the Pope insisted that whatever technical and economic progress there may be, there will be neither justice nor peace in the world until men return to a sense of their dignity as creatures and sons-of God. This is why the Church is a herald of a way of life that is ever modern. From .her doctrine of the sacred dignity of the individual, she has drawn a social teaching that takes into consideration the realities of human nature, the various dimensions of the temporal order, and the characteristics of contem-porary society. This social teaching, he said, is an integral part of the Christian conception of li~[e and should be known, spread, and put into observance by all Catholics. The executibn of this doctrine will be the work especially of the laity whom, in the concluding sections of the en-cyclical, the Pontiff urges to remain close to. the doctrine of Christ and His Church. ÷ 4- 4- Roman Documents VOLUME 20, 1961 445 R. F. Smith~ S,]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU, S 446 Miscellaneous° Documents O~a July 22, 1960 (pp. 3~1-43)~ Pope John" issued an apostoli~ constitution dstablishing an exarchate foi: Ukranians of the Byzantine Ri~e living in .France. The see of the exarch will be in Pari~ and~he will be a ~uffr~igan of the archbishop of Paris; the power of the exarch will be exercised cumulatively with that of the loc'al ordinaries of France. On the sameday (pp. 343-44) a similar exarch-ate was estabhshed for those of the Armeman Rxte hwng in France. On April 23, 1961 (pp. 314-18), Hi~ Holines~ spoke to members of various Oriental rites, exl~ressing his admiration for the grandeu~ of Eastern Christianity and the hope that it will find'in the Pope "the sweetness of David and the wisdom of Solomon." On Pentecost, May 21, 1961 (pp. 358-62), His Holiness delivered an al-locution after he had consecrated fourteen mi.ssionary bishops from Africa, America, and Asia. He told his listeners tha t the. riew bishops w.ere the flowers of the new churches of Africa and Asia,~urged the new bishops to study the cultures and histories of their peoples and to work and firay that these be~b'enefited by the redemotion, and re'~all'ed the centenary of the dea'th of Bish~)p de Mazenod, founder of the Oblates 9f Mar~ Immaculate, one o~ the gre.at nanies in the modern renaissance of mission.activity. On November 24, 1960 (pp. 346-'50), the Holy Father'issued an apostolic c6nstitution establishing the hi.erarchy in Vietnam- with a division into three ecclesiastical provinces. On May 27, 1961 (p. 388.),. the Sacred .Cong~egation'bf Rites issued a declaration according to _which a ferial of the fourth class i~ never to be commemorated in a festive or votive Mass,. even though it be a conventual,, one. Accordingly~the f611owing numbers of the new code of rubrics are to ~be modified to read: N.-26. All ferials not mentioned in Nos. 23-25 are ferials of the fourth class; these ar~never commemorated. N.-289_. [At the beginning] On all'ferials of the fourth clasS . there may be said without a commemoration of the ferial. N. 299. [Second part] On bther ferials the Mass of the pre-cedin~ Sunday is said unless the rubrics provide otherwise. On May q l, 1961, the Feast of the Ascension (pp. 289- 95), Pope John XXIII solemnly canonized Blessed Mary Bertilla Boscardin'(1888-1922), virgin, of the School Sisters of St. Dorothy, Daughters of the Sacred Hearts. Her feast day is to be kept on October-22. In the hom.ily after the canonization, the Holy Father pointed out that the new saint is a l~sson to the~great and wise of this world, for she achieved greatness through humility and ,heroism through hidden sacrifice. He also stated that her sanctity was founded on her family where she learned the secret of constancy, on her catechism which taught her true wisdom, and on her religious vocation which allowed her to give herself entirely to God and to her neighbor. On April 26, 1961 (pp. 381-85), the Sacred Congregation of Rites affirmed the heroic virtue ol~ the venerable Servant of God, Leonard Murialdo (1828-1900), professed priest and founder of the Pious Society of St. Joseph. On'the same day (pp. 385-88), the congregation also affirmed the heroic virtue o1: the venerable Servant of God, Gertrude Comensoli (1847-1903), ~oundress of the Sacramentine Sisters. ~ On April 21, 1961 (pp. 308-14), the Holy Father ad-dressed the First National Italian Congress for Ecclesiasti-cal Vocations. He laid great stress on the influence of priests on vocations, the importance of seminaries for the developing of the human and Christian virtues of future priests, and the need to labor with discretion and zeal for the increase of vocations. On M~rch 25, 1,961 (pp. 371-80), the Sacred Congregation of Religious issued an instruction and statutes to govern extern sisters of monasteries of nun

Issue 18.5 of the Review for Religious, 1959. ; ~ Review for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1959 Friendship'~ Among Religious By Columban Browning, C.P. 257 Conquering Serious Sin By John C. Schwarz, S.J. Perpetual Vows, ~ By Hugo j. Gerleman, S.J. Mother Anna Tabouret By Sister Mary Kenneth, H.H.M. 265 273 279 Survey of Roman Documents Views, Newsi Previe~ ~ Questions and Answers Book ReviewsEi" VOLUME 18 293. 3bo 303 °- NUMBEK 5 Volume 18 Septem.ber 15~ 1959 Number 5 OUR CONTRIBUTORS REV. COLUMBAN BROWNING is stationed at Mother of Good Counsel Seminary~ Warrenton, Missouri. REV. JOHN C. SCHWARZ is stationed at 892 W. Boston, Detroit 2, Michigan. REV. HUGO J. GERLEMAN is instructor of tertians at St. Joseph Hall, 2601 North Union, Decatur, Illinois. SISTER MARY KENNETH is stationed at 17435 Northwood Avenue, Lakewood 7, Ohio. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Sept. 1959, Vol. 18, No. 5. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Edited by the .Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ec-clesiastical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mis-souri. Copyright, 1959, "by The Queen's Work. Subscription price'in Ior. S. A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Editor: R. F. Smith, S.J. Associate Editors: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly,, S.J.; Henry Willmering, S.J. Assistant Editors: John E. Becker, S.J.; Robert F. Weiss, S.J: Departmental Editors: Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; E~arl A. Weis, S.J. Please send all renewals, new subscriptions, and business correspondence to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Please send all manuscripts and editorial correspondence to: Review for Religious, St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. Friendship Among Religious Columban Browning~ C.P. IT WOULD BE HARD to find a religious who has not been warned about the dan'ger of particular friendship. It would be equally hard to find a religious who has not experienced an amount of conflict in striving for a balanced attitude toward friendship. Most religious have heard the warning about particu-lar fr.iendship many.~times: in the novitiate, in retreats, in monthly conferences, and in spiritual books. The warning about false friendship is, of course, a very necessary one. There can be a real danger of forming an exclusive friendship that hinders a religious in the singular love of God that is the primary goal of the 'religious life. Such a friendship can even become a serious threat to the chastity that religious pro-fess. Religious souls sacrifice the normal outlets of their emotions which other young people find in the married state. Since com-plete adjustment to a life of chastity is not always easily attained, there is a natural tendency for religious to seek emotional com-pensation in those closest to them, namely, their fellow religious. The danger of this is greatly aggravated in one who is not fully mature in his emotional life. And it is often a common danger for those who are new in the religious life. These newcomers in the religious life are in a process of adjustment, and it is easy to understand that they may meet with an amount of emotional tension. This tension can easily seek relief in the exclusive attach-ment to a fellow religious. Our purpose here is not to repeat the age-old and ~¢ery neces-sary warning. Enough has been said about this already. The nature and signs of false friendship are sufficiently known to all: exclusiveness, jealousy, the need for signs of affection, daydream-ing about the 'friend,' and so on. We presume this knowledge, and we fully realize all the potential dangers involved. Our purpose here is to suggest that overemphasis of the dangers of particular friendship may perhaps produce a very harmful effect. And this effect is to make religious afraid to have any friends, It may even give rise to a general atmosphere in a 257 COLUMBAN BROWNING Review for Religious religious community in which all friendships are looked upon with an eye of suspicion. Corruption in the arts can tear down rather than build up, and so can the corruption of friendship. But just as we do not condemn beauty as such because of its abuses, so also we must not despise friendship just because it sometimes goes awry. Particular friendship is a characteristic of the emotionally immature religious. There can be a place in religion for those who are lacking somewhat in maturity though they may require more in the way of protection and guidance. But we feel that the greater number of religious are mature enough to avoid the corrupting force of particular friendship. And this being so, is it right that all religious be deprived of good healthy friendship just because for some it is a grave danger? In other words, it is a question of proper balance. If a sane and balanced view is not taken by superiors as well as individual religious, there is a serious danger that an atmosphere emerge in which human hearts must of necessity turn to granite. The result will be that the warmth of charity will vanish and a cold, im-personal spirit will chill the very life of the community. Friendship is an .integral and very necessary part of human life. It is one of the good and higher things of life that can be a positive help toward a more whole-hearted love for God. Just as music, art, literature, and beauty of all kinds are intended to lift up the mind and heart to God, so also is God's gift of friendship. The inspired word of God more than once praises the boon of friendship. We read in the Book of Sirach: "A faithful friend is a sturdy shelter; he who finds one find~ a treasure. A faithful friend is beyond price, no sum can balance his worth. A faithful friend is a lifesaving remedy, such as he who fears God finds; for he who fears God behaves accordingly, and his friend shall be like himself." (6:14-17) This being so, surely good wholesome friendship should not be excluded from the religious life without a ,hearing. The lives of many religious saints strongly endorse the words of Sacred Scripture. As examples, we need only recall the strong bond of friendship that existed between St. Teresa of Avila and Mother Anne of Jesus or that between St. Therese and her three sisters in Carmel. The friendship of these holy souls was certainly 258 September, 1959" FRIENDSHIP AMONG RELIGIOUS not a hindrance but rather a. help to their more perfect love of God. That such has been the case in the lives of these great saints should be proof enough that friendship in itself is a gift of God for our sanctification. The Need for Human Friendship No human being can live a normal life without friendship. God made man a social being, and his entire life is lived in the company of others. God gave man this company because by his nature he needs it. This need is greater in a woman than in a man. A woman has greater emotional needs, and one of these needs is for support in her strivings. When a young persdn steps inside the door of a novitiate, he does not leave this basic need behind him. By that step he sacrifices the normal means of finding his support. But the need very definitely remains. Pope Pius XII singled out this fact in the words he addressed to the superiors general of religious women assembled in Rome in 1952. He said! And now dearest daughters, we pass on to exhort yo~ urgently on two points. First, motherly affection in the guidance of your Sisters. ¯ Psychologists say, and it is probably true, that when in authority it is harder for woman' than for man to find the exact balance between severity and kindness. This makes it all the more necessary fo.,r you to cultivate your motherly feelings. Remember that for your sisters, as for yourselves, religious life demands a great sacrifice. They have given up their families, the joys of married life and a home of their own. It is a sacrifice of great worth and importance for the apostolate of the Church, but it is none the less a sacrifice, and those possessed of greatness of soul and delicacy of sentiment feel it the most keenly . . . and you as superiors general should be the first to breathe into the common life of your sisters the warmth of family love. (Acta et Documenta, 1952, p. 333) When a young person enters the religious life, he is de-termined to surrender his whole heart and soul to God -- to find in Him the complete realization of all his ambitions. He is putting himself on the way to that goal. But he is not ordinarily capable of that whole-hearted love from the beginning. As he learns the first steps of religious life, he will need the strong support and encouragement of the Master or Mistress. Even when he finishes the novitiate, he will not be completely rooted in God, so that he will still need human support. To his dying day, in fact, he will most likely be very much on the way. He will, in other words, need strong human support all along. 259 COLUMBAN BROWNING Review for Religious He may find this support in his superiors, his confessor or spiritual director. But realism forces us to admit that a religious frequently does not find the most ideal support at these sources. Personalities enter in; there is fear of authority'that lurks in the minds of so many, to say nothing of the many other compli-cating, factors. Frequently, therefore, a religious may need the firm support that comes from friendship. And where should he look for this friend if not among his fellow religious? A true friend will not aggravate the burdens by agreeing with all com-plaints but will rather animate the confidant to bear his trials patiently and help him to reach higher in his spiritual ideals. It all comes down to this: When a religious is learning to love God with all his heart, and all his life he is learning this, he cannot live in an absolute vacuum. Being human, he will need the firm support of human friendship. If he tries to live without this or if circumstances force him to live without it for a long time, there is grave danger that his ideals will gradually diminish. From sheer lack of ability to "go it alone" he is apt to find him-s~ lf falling back rather than going forward. And in this situation he may find himself turning his attention back to the things that he has given up, and sooner or later he will realize that he no longer has any real desire to live all for God. We wonder how many ex-religious would still be happy religious today if they had had the support of true and loyal friends. From what has been said, it may appear that relying on the help of friends is a very imperfect thing in itself, and may be admitted only as a crutch for the beginner. But such is not the case. In God's plan of providence He has made man with a n~ed for friendship, and He intends that it be an important factor in his sanctification all through life. St. Aelred, who has written a beautiful treatise on this subject, makes this" clear. He says that friendship "is possible between the good, it makes progress between those who are better, and it is consummated between those who are perfect." He also says: "Wonderful must he be who can afford to do without friends and without love. More wonderful than God Himself." (De amore amicitiae) St. Teresa of Avila stresses the advantages of friendship in living a spiritual life when she says: It is a great evil for a soul to be alone in the midst of such great dangers . I would advise those who are giving themselves to prayer, particularly at first, to form friendships . . . with those who are doing 260 September, 1959 FRIENDSHIP AMONG RELIGIOUS the same thing. It is a matter of the last importance, even if it lead only to helping one another by prayer . Now, if in their dealings with one another, and in the indulgence of human affection not even of the best kind, men seek friends with whom they can refresh themselves. I know no reason why it should not be lawful for him who is beginning to love and serve God in earnest to confide his joys and sorrows to another. [Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, trans, by David Lewis (West-minster: Newman, 1943), ch. 7, pp. 54-55,1 From such ahthoritative statements it is evident that true friendship between human beings is patterned after God's own friendship with man and that its goal is closer union with God Himself. As the austere hermit St. Peter Damian so beautifully expresses it: "When I look on thy face, on thee who are dear to me, I lift my gaze toward Him Who, united to thee, I desire to reach" (Letters, 2:12). Still on the psychological plane, let us consider the matter in relation to the religious vow of chastity. Dangers to chastity are usually cited as the motive for avoiding particular friendship. But may we not say that true and healthy f~riendship can be one of the greatest protectors of chastity? The religious has sacrificed the normal emotional outlets. Keeping his basic emotional needs he is, in a sense, in a state of violence in the religious life. Here we must recall what we have already said -- that the religious is destined to find his all in God, but that reaching this goal is a life-long process. The warmth of well regulated fri~nd-ship is the normal and God-given support to help the religious to learn to live entirely for God. When he has the comfort of such friendship, he will ordinarily tend to regret less what he has given up. As a result he will find more contentment and natural joy in the religious life. Without this support he is apt to ex-perience a kind of emotional starvation. S~ch a state produces tension, and tension is a fertile source of unlawful desires. A tense religious is in danger of acting hastily and seeking com-pensation for what he is missing. Much of this tension could be avoided if the religious did not feel so alone and unwanted. True supernatural love and friendship, in other words, can give the religious a sense of dignity that fosters purity. Another thing that may be to the point here: There seems to be an ever increasing number of religious who suffer from what doctbrs call psychosomatic illnesses. Ailments develop for which the physician can find no physical cause. Doctors usually diagnose these ailments as being the effect of nervous tension. How many 261 COLUMBAN BROWNING Review for Religious of these poor religious feel that they have any real friends in the religious life? Must we not say that much of this could be avoided if the medicine of human friendship were in better standing? The best antidote to tension and nervousness is contentment. And human nature is ordinarily not contented and at rest without the warmth of human love that is the effect of friendship. Certain Qualifications Lest we appear to be a little too idealistic and too trustful of human nature, a number of qualifications may. be in place. The first has to do with the need for universal charity in religion. We know that charity toward all was one of the key doctrines of our Lord. And since the religious life is the embodi-ment of His teaching, it is obvious that supernatural, universal charity must always hold a prominent place in any religious community. At first sight our proposal may sound like a denial of this. If misunderstood and misinterpreted, it could .indeed become such. No religious can ever exclude anyone from his charity. As far as community life is concerned, a uniformity and consistency must be observed in all dealings with fellow religious. But at the same time it is contrary to human nature itself to expect a religious to feel the same toward all. Inevitably he will feel closer to some than to others, and he will be able to speak more freely and confidently to these. It is among these that he will normally be inclined to seek his friends. To expect otherwise would be to. do violence to human nature itself. And we need to recall that human nature is not destroyed but rather elevated by living a spiritual life. At the same time, preference for these few should never lead the religious to spend all his time with them or to form a clique with them. When this happens, we have a counterfeit of true friendship that is inconsistent with" the religious life. True friendship does not narrow the human heart but rather expands it and makes it capable of loving all more. When we think maturely, we judge things by their true nature rather than by their occasional abuses. Are we, therefore, to forbid all re-ligious to have any friends just because there is some danger of abuse? The occasional abuses should be dealt with individually 262 September, 1959 FRIENDSHIP AMONG RELIGIOUS rather than be considered a pretext to~condemn the entire tree because of a few bad fruits. Another necessary clarification pertains to superiors. It is a good and true principle that a superior should deal with all his subjects alike. It is a false principle, though sometimes quoted, that a superior should have no friends. A superior must maintain an equality in all his external dealings with his subjects. But he too is human and needs a friend -- perhaps more than does the ordinary religious. The very burdens he bears may require that he have some human support lest those burdens crush him. To deny him this outlet is to be cruel and inhuman. Of course, such a friendship in a superior contains potential dangers. There'is the danger of his showing preference for his friends in an external way, to the great detriment of peace and contentment in' the community. There is the further danger of his letting his friends determine his policies as superior, also a grave abuse. But again, are we to condemn something that is good and necessary in itself just because of a few abuses? The surest way to avoid such abuses is by appointing only those as superior who are mature enough to exercise prudence and good judgment. Very small houses present a problem all their own that needs to be considered. The fewer the number of religious in a house, the greater is the need for universal charity and: the greater need for one or two friends to avoid isolating themselves from the rest. There is no need to stress the severe trial of living in a small house that is divided. But again we must remember that this state of things is a counterfeit of true friendship, and the whole question of friendship should not be judged by such abuses. A religious who is assigned to a small house may find him-self in a situation in which close friendship is practically im-possible. His companions are few, and he may not be able to feel close to any of them. The same inability to make friends may arise from other circumstances, even in larger houses~ When such situations exist, the religious is forced to, do without what is ordinarily necessary for happy living. But the religious who has cultivated only healthy friendships will be able to meet this challenge and will accept this cross from the hands of God for his purification. If we are to be purified and made capable of loving God more, we must a~ept the crosses that God sends. 263 COLUMBAN ]~ROWNING And just as He sometimes cuts away other supports that are ordinarily considered basic necessities in order to purify us, so also in the case of friendship. The religious must therefore be prepared for such situations and must see them in the light of God's all loving providence for him. Bearing this cross patiently will expand the heart and equip the religious to be more mature in friendship when the opportunity for them arises again. Finally, lest we give the impression of overlooking in practice the real danger of friendship becoming particular and exclusive, another clarification is in place. Of course, there is always an amount of danger of this. Even a true and healthy friendship can deteriorate. But this is a matter to be dealt with in particular cases. For many there is practically no danger of particular friendship. For most the danger is remote. For some it may be called serious. These particular dangers should not determine the mentality of a community toward friendship so that every-one who has a friend is considered suspect. A community that adopts this attitude as a more or less official policy creates a situation in which Christian charity is severely paralysed. Instead of the religious "living together in unity" and working together in the charity of Christ, bickering, discontent, selfishness, and downright cruelty can become the order of the day. When religious are forced to live in such an atmosphere, the heroism that is so necessary for anyone to develop the fulness of Christ is frustrated, o ¯ Conclusion The religious life has as its goal the binding of human hearts more closely to the God of all love. In striving for this goal, ev.ery religious is held back by the limitations of fallen human nature. Because of these limitations and the consequent failings that somewhat mar the perfection of every religious soul, there is a tendency to emphasize the negative to the detriment of the positive elements of the religious life. When a general atmosphere of negativism arises in a religious community, the vital spirit of the members of that community is severely paralysed. We feel that this negativism too often shows itself in the attitude toward friendship. May God speed the day when His wonderful gift of friendship is judged, not by occasional abuses, but by the positive incentive it provides for a whole hearted search for God. 264 Conquering Serious Sin John Co Schwarz, S.J. INA MEMORABLE address to the clerical students and priests at the Catholic University some months after her entrance into the Church, Clare Boothe Luce commented on the singular importance of love in the service of God. "All the world they say, loves a lover . And never before have I been together with so many young men who are deeply in love, for the first and last times in their lives. For you are to be the truest of all lovers: the priests of God's altars." Her graceful words a~e easily extended to all who consecrate themselves to life with Christ, to life with Love. For the religious deeply feels that his or her vocation precisely consists in striving to be "the truest of all lovers." But lofty as such aspirations surely are, the weight of d~ill human nature remains a constant factor and a daily experience. The actions of no less a saint thaff His own first vicar drew from' our Lord the comment, "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." Thus serious sin, the sorry surrender of the high aspirations of love, remains a possibility even for men and women who have taken their place in the consecrated, protected ranks of religious life. Temptation, even sharp temptation, remains altogether possible. The free-living and often loveless world around us will attempt to turn that possibility into glittering reality. And the urges and impulses of fallen human nature, pressuring from within, may add further strain. Hence, this presentation of basic reflections, remedies, and counter-measures against serious sin may not be amiss. Because the flesh remains weak, therefore serious sin cannot yet be filed under "impossibilities," and forgotten. Moreover, the experience of mortal sin could prove as productive of be-wilderment as of remorse. Nor will sure counsel and direction always be at hand. Especially if the experience were to be com-plicated by the shock of repetition, the path ahead could become greviously entangled. Hence some considerations on this little-frequented area of religious life may be of interest even to "the truest of all lovers." Now even serious sin can produce some profit, if the ex-perience prods one into a necessary check-up on key points of 265 JOHN C. SCHWARZ " Review for Religious religious observance and consecratip~i~ As physical pains signal the need for medical care, perhaps heretofore ignored, so it is with conduct of which conscience has voiced flat disapproval. A deepened sense of authentic humility can also result, as well as an increased, practical sympathy for the trials which others are experiencing from time to time-- students, for instance. And one will surely learn that mere general exhortations to avoid temptation may help little when the danger is close and vividly felt. Check Fading Motives But to check the key points of one's ~eligious observance, a valuable technique for av.oiding mortal sinas well as for remedying it, will involve attention to far more than me.re.exterior regularity or promptitude. That does have its importance, definitely. But the giant-step forward will be taken with the realization that serious sin, especially when repeated, exposes the slow fading of true values in the mind. The key to decisive will power, as Father Lindwo~sky has so strikingly demons.t~a.ted,1 lies in the vital realm of motivation. One's spiritual motives or values may have become, distant relatives living in the suburbs of the mind, ac~n?wledged, recognizable -- but t~ken for granted. Such ¯ motives perhaps no longer m?tivate,, or at least are diminishing in their impact on daily thought a.nd conduct. New knowledge is not the primary need, nor some scheme for "developing will power" after the manner of strengthening a muscle. Rather, persuade those distant relatives to move once again into the immediate family, day by day and hour by hour. Deep., attentive meditation with our blessed Lord on the basic truths of existence becomes necessary. Such truths are presented to the mind and heart in the annual retreat when reflections are made on the purposes of the vows, on our origin and diVine destiny, on the practices of religious life, on Christ's love as the only. happiness for the religiou~ soul. Possibly medi-tation has been failing to cut through the too-familiar exteriors of truths considered, and examinations of conscience may have ¯ lagged in their role of providing re-nourishment at crucial points in the exhausting day. Perhaps bit by bit the mind has slipped into the heresy that what Christ asks first is service, action, ~Johann Lindworsky, S.J., The Training of the Will (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1929). 266 September, 1959 CONQUERING SERIOUS SIN results, success, achievement -- an attitude more "at home" in General Motors -- failing in daffy practice to see that what He seeks is my whole mind, my whole heart, my whole soul -- in a word, myself. For that is what He has offered to me: Himself!. Temptation Topples Weak Motives Amid the undeniably wearing regimen of a long year teach-ing or nursing, the intimate grasp of the mind on basic truths, and above all on Him whom we love can falter. All feel this in greater or lesser degree. Add a sizeable f~ding of spiritual values with a startling growth, on a particular occasion or over an ex-tended period of time, in vividness of some temptation and trouble may loom just ahead. Or again, if sound and cherished values fade, the onslaught of some unforeseen crisis -- whether with superiors, students, declining health, or something similar -- will find human nature subtly craving compensation. If Christ becomes remote, thickets of temptation will crop up close. These foregoing notions, largely based on the scientific research of Lindworsky, a renowned priest-psychologist, find an interesting echo in the distinguished spiritual author, Father Edward Leen: "We fail, not because our wills are irresolute "or our passions strong -- but because we allow our intelligence to be obscured as to the meaning and purpose of life.~ It is no~ s0~ much our will that is at fault as our intelligence.'"-' If such notions seem to some an overly-academic approach to a concrete problem of serious sin, it may be noted that there is little of novelty here. Christian philosophers have been teach-ing for centuries that the will, although capable of free action, is nevertheless deeply dependent on what the intellect points out as desirable or not desirable for me l~ere and now. If a religious decides on such a check of his or her sense of spiritual values, on exterior observance, and consequently on union with Christ our Lord, it will be well to review also habitual performance in .situations calling for patience, for consideration of the feelings of others. A sharp tongue, a trigger-quick temper, a habit of freely commenting on the actions and personalities of others (always a gentle boost to one's own hungry ego) -- these cannot be ignored when clear signs appear for a necessary 2E-~-war~ Leen, In the Likeness of Christ (London: Sheed and Ward, 1936), p. 223. 267 JOHN C. SCHWARZ Review for Religious strengthening in any area of a religious life. Just as in the physical side of human life health means the well-being of all .parts, so spiritual sickness is easily caused by the collapse of any single part with a resultant weakness poisoning the entire system. Prescription: over-all strengthening. Such an over-all strengthening may come at high cost. But let a religious take heart whatever the cost. Our companion on the way is He who three times lifted Himself in agony from the dust.y road in Jerusalem and did not falter even at the blood-dimmed view of Calvary rising before Him. And this for me! as Paul exclaims. Courage is Christ's, a precious gift available to all who come to Him for it. Let a religious take heart, moreover, in the realization ~hat his or her will remains a powerful faculty ready to serve. That will-power is not debilitated, not collapsed, not "weak." But motives may have grown pallid. The will itself remains in normal condition. One has perhaps previously read such small testings of will .power as, "Couldn't you refrain from this or that for-bidden action if you were assured of death in its next perform-ance?" Seriously reflecting on such a'n eventuality, one is generally prompt to concede that such a motive (note!) would prove a quite effective spur. The will would briskly respond. Motives of a social nature, for one consecrated to Christ, should hold a special attraction. Blessings for souls on earth or in purgatory can be merited abundantly by sacrifice of self. Hopeless millions in the nation's slums, prisoners languishing in Communist camps, the afflicted and confined in a tSousand in-stitutions -- to submit but a few examples -- all these need Christ; and all can be helped wonderfully by the powerful prayer of self-discipline for and with Christ. Alertness in Temptation A further point of considerable moment in combating an inclination drawing a person toward the vortex of sin: prudent, alert conduct in time of temptation. A down-deep reluctance to wrench oneself from an unlawful attraction of some sort or another or a habit of delaying, of dallying and wondering -- such are the gradual weakenings which are the prelude to collapse and inevitable anguish of soul. Said Byron: "There are no 268 September, 1959 CONQUEt~ING SERIOUS SIN pleasures which the world can give comparable to those it can take away." On conduct in temptation, Fr. Gerald Kelly, S.J., observes: "A not uncommon source of mental disquiet among religious is the fact that they develop the habit of 'playing close to the line,' of taking 'little chances' in their reading, their entertainment, and so forth. Half-heartedness in the observance of chastity induces interior conflicts, even when it does not lead to open mortal sin.''3 Here obviously is a point for serious self-examina-tion: has one a set policy of nog only avoiding, but shying far from that which tempts? The Sacred Heart spoke to Margaret Mary in unmistakable words of half-hearted religious. He is whole-hearted. It is essential to see clearly the occasion of sin which has proven dangerous, to have clearly in mind, honestly and openly, that this or that place, reading, time of day, situation, or com-bination of circumstances can cause temptation to grow intense. Facing this fact, the wise person will either exert every possible effort to trace a wide path around the trouble zone, or, if that be impossible, at least halt for a brief moment of recollection and prayer beforehand. Even staunch St. Peter experienced one of the great agonizing falls in Christian history when he lingered in a hostile courtyard. Such courtyards await in every life, but many wisely learn from Peter to shun them. Reaction to temptation, though without panic or nervous-ness, should be instinctive. I become suddenly aware that my hand rests on the sizzling stove. Do I calmly reason, debate the issue, "Well, should I keep it there or not?" Rather, the reaction is swift, instinctive. Let there be an equal, recoil before tempta-tion. Of a married man, sincerely devoted and faithful, novelist Stephen Vincent Bengt wrote: "And there comes a time, no matter what the intention, when a new face heaves into view and a spark lights. I'm no Adonis, God knows, but it's happened to me once or twice. And I know what I do then. I run. I run like a rabbit. It isn't courageous or adventurous or fine . But I run. Because, when all's said and done, it takes two people to make an affair and you can't have it when one of them's not there." 31954 Proceedings of the Sisters' Institute o[ Spirituality (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1955), p. 102. 269 JOHN, C, SCHWARZ Review for Religious. In time of difficulty and temptation some 'relief may be achieved by physical change, taking a "break" for a few moments, fresh air, getting up, walking ---all such sudden motion and switch of environment jars the growing mood with which tempta-tion fascinates the mind and paralyzes the will. This fracture of mood discourages temptation even when it does not dispel it altogether. If one is alone, a companion to talk with might be found. If one is.idle, a quick recourse to interesting work or some engrossing distraction of mind often helps. A handy book or periodic.al may assist. The airline pilot, warned of a storm area ahead, does not make a simple act of trust in the capacities of his ship. He alters his course, avoids heavy weather altogether if humanly possible. He knows too much is at stake for a gamble. A Prayer-in-Action Present-day psychiatrists wisely warn against excessive focusing on problems such as are under consideration here. A worrisome :preoccupation with such matters only adds to their damage. Psychiatrists suggest rather that at least equal attentiOn be turned to the person's general outlook on life some-what in the manner suggested earlier in this article (on the refreshing of motives and values). Everyone concedes the in-juriou~ effects-of brooding, for instance, over this or that possi-bl~ gyrhptom of illness. If you don't truly have the affliction, v~oric)i inay soon obtain it for you; and if you do have it, worry may double it. The same thing occurs in the spiritual life. But this is not to outlaw intelligent concern and intelligent attention go the meanS Of disciplining whatever conduct is intolerable in life. An aid in this direction will be a limited, reasonable plan of self-restraint. How might this be done? Suppose a religious determines to undertake some small denial of pleasure or inclination twice each morning and twice again in the second half of the day, each time offering the peaceful decision to our Lord as a prayer, a prayer-in-action, begging iiumbly the needed grace of selfconquest for His sake. This will impose no weighty burden, attract no attention, cause no morbid focusing on the problem. Bypassing some item at table, assisting another when inconvenient to do so, postponing a desired relaxa-tion for ten.minutes, knuckling down to a task for which attrac, tion is absent, and, perhaps best of all -- an appalling suggestion offer.e.d with apologies-- arising promptly with the unfriendly 270 September, 1959 CONQUERING SERIOUS SIN clamor of the morning bell! Each of these, c~upled with a short aspiration of loving prayer, will recall to mind and heart that my true motives .aim always in one direction only. This is not suggested as the fa~miliar development of virtue "by repeated will acts." Rather, this is the conscious development of intimacy with our Lord by offering deliberate expressions of love to Him repeatedly. These expressions of love are offered in actions, in which I place Him first, my own inclinations second. This is prayer-in-action. A check can profitably be made at noon and at night: "Did I make my prayer-in-action twice, or more?" Let this check be made strictly, renewing then the Morning Offering and the Mass offering as well -- and return happily to duties "through Him, and with Him, and in Him." A Loving Lord Within Our Catholic faith highlights God's revelation to us that when the soul is in the state of grace God Himself dwells in that soul in a very special, intimate manner. God is her.e: Fat, her,, Son, and Holy Spirit -- all Three; and my heart especially re-sponds to the presence of the eternal Son .whos, e perso.n.~al lo~y_e has changed and colored my entire life. He is here, right, here, in the truest sense, a companion, a source of strength, a fortress against loneliness and that illusion of isolation which tl~e shock. of sin can bring. Father DeJaegher's little volume, One With Jesus (Westminster: Newman, 1948), will provide powerful assistance to many in attaining a new depth of insight into what God's indwelling can mean for daily living. The basic fact that God Himself dwells within can and must be a source of that st.rength which only a person who loves and is loved possesses, in the face of tdmptation. The human heart craves love, to love and be loved with true concern, personal attention and attachment. Christ offers us such love if only we will look to Him, clearly seeing the Heart of hearts offered to us. For that love, every earthly sacrifice is paltry in comparison. Great singleness of heart, supercharged with" Christ'-s grace, releases within any human personality power otherwise unsuspected. Singleness of heart: a Frances Xavier Cabrini~ a Matt Talbott or Therese of Lisieux, a Cornelia Connelly or 271 Philippine Duchesne, an Isaac Jogues,. Charles de Foucauld, or Elizabeth of the Trinity. These had one love only. Even in secular life, models of astounding singleness of determination are readily found: a Charles Lindbergh on his epic Atlantic flight, fighting the deadly paralysis of fatigue, doing cramped calisthen-ics in his narrow cockpit, reciting endless multiplication tables, and triumphing. For love of our Lord, then, a blueprint has been submitted for constructing (or re-constructing) an interior citadel against the lethal foe, serious sin. That blueprint outlines four basic steps: (1) A general check on fundamental spiritual truths. Love needs reasons. Familiar truths must be revitalized; familiar motives must sink new roots. (2) Prudent, alert conduct in the presence of t.emptation. (3) A new plan of self-restraint as love's prayer-in-action. (4) Insistent recollection of God truly within. For Christ's love is our whole existence, and our love must flow into action. The apostles, recall, had fished all the night in vain, without the Lord. But when He appeared, it took only a word, a change of approach, and success overwhelmed them. Thus He proved once again that He is indeed the way, the truth, and the life. For religious most of all, Christ is our way, our truth, and surely our very life if we wish to be "the truest of all lovers." 272 Perpetual, Vows Hu~jo J. Gerleman, S.J. IN HIS POEM, "The Ballad. of the White H6rs~," G. K. Ches-terton probes into .the radical differences between the spirit of Christianity and the spirit of pagan]sin -- old and new. One of the marks that he sees in the true Christian is his fidelity to his plighted word: And whether' ye swear a hive of monks, Or one fair wife to friend, This is the manner of Christian men, That their oath endures th~ end. [Bk. V, ll. 2~6-79] Therefore, by this sign will men know. ~'the ba~bari~an come again," that he will be fickle, unstable in his i~romises, .untrue to his vows and oaths. There is no way of knowing exactly what generation of men Chesterton wished to brand with his characterization of the neopagan, but one wonders whether our present generation may not have been included in his vision. Certainly when we consider the present attitude toward the marriage vow, we see what was once regarded as a sa~red and lasting obligation made frequently a matter of a passing whim. There is no need to give the.statistics of divorces since they are so well known. We also know that to some extent even Catholics have been affected by this plague of inconstancy in marriage~ Has this easy attitude towards a sacred and serious promise infiltrated even into the religious life? I have no ready statistics in the matter, but I think it safe to say that even religious are not immune to the tendencies of the age in which they live. Certainly the standard of living in a country, the level at which luxuries and comforts are enjoyed, affects the poverty of religious. Likewise ff a spirit of independence and impatience of restraints prevails in an age, it will make its influence felt on the religious. So it would not be surprising if infidelity to marriage vows and a general restlessness and instability in the face of difficulties, both so noticeable in many. men and women in our times, would 273 HuGo J. GERLEMAN Review for Religious find a counterpart in the lives of religious. Rather it would be surprising if this were not the case. 'It seems in a true sense that the spirit that should enter into the making of a vow is counter to a spirit that is running through our age. One element expected in the spirit with which vows should be taken can be typified by the common expressions, "to burn your bridges behind you," "to put your back to the wall."~ .Those expressions are obviously taken from warfare, from-battle, from fight against strong forces. Those warriors who burn their bridges behind them and who put their backs to the-wall cut off all chance of retreat. To survive they must overcome the enemy that confronts them. They have said "no" to their fears and to any possible cowardice. They are giving themselves psychological support by cutting off avenues of escape which poor human nature is prone to take. They, as it were, .force themselves to be brave -- now they have to fight it out. Whe~a person makes a vow, he does a like thing. He freely promises God to do the better thing; at the same time he realizes that he will come upon difficulties in making good his promise. In order to forestall the weakness of vacillating human nature, he wants to assure:himself of an undeviating will that will secure the performance of-the act under all circumstances. For this purpose he freelyobinds himself under sin to carry out what he is promis: ing. In-thus stabilizing his will by the vow we may say that he is putting his back to the wall, that he is burning his bridges behind ,him He is ~now committed to bravery, to heroism, if need-be, in meeting the attacks on his resolve. There are;~of course, many other considerations that enter the mi'nd and' affect the heart of one taking a vow. The vow, after all, is a means to an end. Through it the person taking the vow certainly wishes to give special honor to .God, to bind him-self more closely to his Creator, to be united to Him more in-timately in charity, and so om But with all these there is the intention to establish himself enduringly in his resolution, to confirm his will when difficulties arise. Stability of will, fidelity to his .promise-iso-what he is seeking. This ~otive has a place in the taking of every vow, but it has a special place i'n the taking of perpetual vows. Why this is so is perfectly clear. A perpetual vow means that perpetually, ¯ for all :the days of life left to a man, he is bound under sin to keep 274 September, 1959 PERPETUAL VOWS his promise to God. He deliberately wanted this, .freely bound~ himself. It means that, as far as :his own will is~ c?ncerne~, no change can be made; he is free to move in .only on~ direc~tion. He must until his dying day (when it is a question .of .the vows of religion) will to be poor, chaste, obedient. If he does not, he is unfaithful to his promise. This finality of his exc.lusive, dboice is what makes his vows perpetual. . . Of course, there is the possibility ~that in ~spite of the firm will-set of the religious an objective difficulty becomes manifest that is an impediment to the perpetual living' of his vow~s. In that case there is place for a dispensation by competent authority. - But it is an objective difficulty; therefore, as far as the.will of the individual is concerned, it can tend in only one direction until it is clear that the will of God indicates another way of life. This is all very obvious, but it is ~trap~ely tr~i~'"'that in the day-to-day living of one's life a person can let even the° obVious become blurred or keep it in the far corner of consciousness.' There have been not a few religious who V~ere boundby perl~etual vows but who gradually, almost imperceptibly~ s~arted .thinking in another way and lettihg their will tend in the.wrong direction. With this they began veering off the true course Of the religious life and hardly noticed it. As they became comfortable moving in their new direction, they began to depart even more from their religious ideals and manner of life. After some time .they found: themselves fully conscious of thinking and moving in an entirely different direction from that in which they~ shbuld" h~e:been tending. And they found that they were quite content' to be" in this condition. The thought of the finality of their selfgiving to God by perpetual vows had lost meaning by_then.:_T.he, will had been drained of its original decisiveness to be faithful-to:the end: Then difficulties, temptations, counter-attractions became, argu-ments for giving up their way of life. They .ended .by wanting to be dispensed from their vows . "" When a religious comes to such a pass, it:.might seem that the only sensible thing to do is to get that dispensation. NoW it may very well be that on the part.of the institute this becomes desirable; for when a member has lost the spirit of-the 'religious life, when the ideals of an intimate following .of Christ_ ar.~ gone, when it seems that he will not be content in religi.on,~-then the congregation or order may well judge, that the individua! is no longer a desirable member. This on the part of the institute, ° 275 Hugo J. GERLEMAI~ Review for Religious However, it seems that the individual ought to have the following truth clearly pointed out to him. He still has his per-petual- vows and is under the obligation, if it is at all possible at the stage at which he is, to recapture the spirit he has lost, to refashion the ideals he has let fade, to win back his peace and happmess in the following of Christ. This will no doubt require a hard struggle with himself. It will require humility, true reliance on God. The religious will have to pray and pray sin-cerely for the one thing needed just now. He may have to endure days of darkness and distress until God deigns to restore the light and peace that he has forfeited. It may seem to him that this is asking too much, ~hat it is laying too great aburden on weak human nature. Yet this is precisely what the obligation of his perpetual vow would demand. He solemnly promised to remain firm under difficulties, even those that are wholly or partially self-made. For his courage and comfort he may reflect that others have worked themselves out of a similar difficulty and recovered their original view and generosity to go on in pgace and happiness to the end in their vocation. Some seem to'fall into the state described above because of a r~ther unrealistic outlook on the vows of religion. They seem to imagine-- even though they have often been told the contrary -- that with the pronouncing of the vows difficulties in keeping them disappear, or at least are of such negligible force that one hardly notices them. Such a view, bf course, manifests a radical misunderstanding of the true nature of religious vows. As was said earlier, in a true sense it is precisely because real difficulties are exp.ected in one's striving for perfection that. the vows are taken. They are con-cerned with strong, dedp, hnd abiding human passions. It may be that these are somewhat dormant at the time the vows are pronounced, but it is rather to be expected that in the life of every religious at some time instincts and passions will reassert themselves, that the passion of sex, the passion of self-will arid independence, the passion of acquisitiveness will clamor for fulfillment, and that vehemently. This does not indicate that it was a mistake to take perpetual vows. It proves rather that it Was riot a mistake to take them -- they are now being experienced as necessary supports of the will to remain constant and faithful in a life of sacrifice, of generous self-giving to God. Now is just the time when the remembrance of them should give that help which weak human nature needs, if the religious is to remain 276 September, 1959 PERPETUAL VOWS faithful to the way of life which he has pledged in all seriousness to God. Right from the beginning, along with the deep conviction of the dignity and value of his intimate following of Christ in the life of the counsels, the religious ought to cultivate a growing spirit of fidelity and loyalty to God through the observance of his vows. He should keep his face set toward the mountain top of final perser~ierance in his way of life, as Christ set His face toward Jerusalem and the sacrifice to be consummated there. "But I have a baptism to be baptized with; and how distressed I am until it is accomplished" (Lk 12:50). " . . . he steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem" (Lk 9:51-52). And when the dread hour of His crisis came upon Him, He told His disciples: "But he comes [the prince of the world] that the world may know that I love the Father and that I do as the Father has commanded me. Arise, let us go hence" (Jn 14:31 ). And He went all the way, even to death on the cross. It is hoped that what has been said makes clear how great an error it is to have recourse too readily to the thought of a so-called "temporary vocation" as an easy way out of the obli-gations of one's perpetual vows. Authors who use the term surely wish to have the nature of such a vocation carefully under-stood. We are dealing with fallen human nature. When the vision of faith grows dim and the motives which depend on it become weak so that the person is no longer willing to face the true nature of the religious life and its demands, he may be inclined to hide his want of fidelity by thinking of himself as having only a "temporary vocation." This is readily granted by all, I believe, that even after a person has pronounced his perpetual vows, it can become ap-parent that there is a clear, objective difficulty in the way of continuing his religious life. Some loyal, determined religious have found that God in the mysterious designs of His providence apparently does not want them to go on as religious in spite of their own sincere will in the matter. The religious may be in certain danger of losing his mental health; he may not be able to succeed in the studies required in the institute that he has joined; his leaving may be necessary to provide for his parents who are in serious need. These and other objective reasons may exist that give grounds for the legitimate withdrawal from the religious life. Oftentimes this is experienced as a real hardship 277 HUGO J. GERLEMAN and is done against his own will, in the sense that it is only because of the conviction that such is God's will that he can bring himself to accept a dispensation from his vows. Such persons, of course, have no reason for any fear or anxiety. God knows their heart and their fidelity to the promise made to Him. He Simply has other plans for them. In His wise and loving ~r'oqidende He has allowed them to live for a period under re-ligious vows for their own ultimate good. Such then are sometimes called temporary vocations. But to use the term "temporary vocation" in any other sense, when there is question of perpetual vows, would seem to be a misnomer -- even something of a mockery. Certainly the religious cannot of his own volition, when the going becomes hard or interest is waning, determine that he has only a temporary vocation. As soon as he becomes conscious of entertaining such a thought, he should immediately reflect that, as far as his own will is concerned, he has left himself only one legitimate choice, and that is to fulfill the obligations of his vows to the end with the help of God. His vows are perpetual. This perpetual engage-ment can be terminated only if God so wills it. If the religious is not careful right at the start to confirm himself in his true posi-tion, he may gradually let himself be beguiled into a wrong way of th!nking. From the very first days of his religious life he ought to orientate himself in one direction and all along make sure of maintaining this orientation lest he allow himself to be thrown off course by the winds of adversity. God's attitude towards the taking of vows is revealed in the book of Ecclesiastes, where it is written: "If thou hast bowed.anything to God, defer not to pay it: for an unfaithful and foolish promise displeaseth Him: but whatsoever thou hast vowed, .pay it. And it is much better not to vow, than after a vow not to perform the things promised." (5:3-4) . St. Ignatius, who seems to have been the first to make the devotionabrenewal of the vows a matter of rule, gives the ex-ercise a threefold purpose: to increase the devotion of the religious, to renew in them the memory of the obligation by which they are bound to God, and to confirm themselves more solidly in their vocation (Constitutiones Societatis Jesu, IV, 5). The religious would .do well to recite each day the formula of his° vows and to renew in all sincerity the oblation he made of himself on the day he vowed to God perpetual poverty, chastity, and obedience. 278 Mother Anna Tabouret Sister Mary Kenneth, H.H.M. THE CONGREGATION of the Sisters of the Holy Humility of Mary is unique in the annals of American history in its ~mmigration to the United States as a community just ten short years after its French foundatiom The leader and the inspiration, the enthusiastic spark and the driving force of this daring venture, was a truly remarkable woman, Mother Anna Tabouret. Marie Tabouret was born December 1, 1828, in the peaceful little village of ~Nomeny in the province of Lorraine during the turbulent period of French history caused by the downfall of Napoleon. The shadow of tuberculosis darkened the Tabouret home in 1830 claiming the lives of an infant brother and the father, and threatening the life of the mother. Almost inevitably the two-year-old Marie became the undisputed center of attention in the bereaved household. - -- MariMe asdhaomueld T raebcoeuirveet ,a w seulli-taedbulec aetdedu chaetrisoenlf;, adnedte drmesinp.iete.d. hthea~t ill-health she herself tutored the child. Marie. proved to be so talented in music that by the.age of five she had mastered the fundamentals of this art. Although the mother saw the necessity of education, her maternal love blinded her to the child's most obvious need -- discipline. Marie grew accustomed to having all her desires gratified and her whims satisfied. With a child's keen sensitivity to adult weakness she .was quick to tak~ ad-vantage of her mother's love and her own delicate health. If she were crossed or her wishes thwarted, she would put her hand dramatically over her heart and exclaim, "Mon coeur! Mon coeur!" All thought of punishment would then be forgotten. The family housekeeper, a frequent witness of Marie's' temper, tried in vain to convince her mistress that such willfulness needed to be curbed. The child's legal guardian, appointed by her father; joined his counsel to that of the housekeeper; and finally it.was agreed that Marie should be sent to the village school where she could mingle with boys and girls of her own age. In class Marie learned to her astonishment that the other children were not impressed by her Cry of "Mon coeur!"; on the contrary; 279 SISTER MARY KENNETH Review for Religious they placed a much higher value on strength than they did on weakness. Thus the first restraint upon her strong, will was imposed by her school mates who made it clear to Marie that her own will could not and would not always prevail. When Marie was twelve her mother died and the grief-stricken orphan was taken to live with her guardian. Her frail constitution, further weakened by loneliness and sorrow, made her an easy victim to typhoid fever. After long weeks in bed and longer months of supposed recuperation, it was discovered that a serious curvature of the spine had developed to further impede her recovery. Although unable to attend school regularly for some years, she was able to receive her first Holy Communion with the other children of her age. On this day of days her heart was sad and lonely while her body was still weakened by illness, but she poured out all the desolation and sadness of her soul in prayer to the God truly present within her. When her health improved, she was sent to Paris to study at the Conservatory of Art and Music where she majored in piano and organ and where her talents were recognized as ex-traordinary. Sorrow again appeared in her life when her trusted guardian absconded with a portion of her inheritance. Although stunned by this unexpected treachery, Marie managed to com-plete her education by a prudent management of her finances. During the latter part of her stay in Paris she became the penitent of the great Dominican, Lacordaire, an opportunity which was one of the most powerful and influential graces of her entire life. His influence upon her spiritual development was to be almost limitless, transcending both time and place. His oft-repeated admonition to those who sought his advice was, "Strive to live always on the highest level of spiritual endeavor." Later she was to hand down this advice as a precious tradition to her community. At the completion of her education, she returned to her native province where she became organist and choir directress for several village churches. To an onlooker, and perhaps even to herself, her life seemed already set in its future course; but in reality her life work had not even begun. The first link in the chain of events which would forever unite the destiny of Marie Tabouret with that of a future religi-ous community was forged in her meeting the Reverend John 280 September, 1959 MOTHER ANNA TABOURET Joseph Begel. Through her work as parish organist she came into contact with this scholarly priest, pastor of two small adjoining parishes, who was deeply concerned with the religious education of the children under his care. Although Napoleon III had per-mitted passage of a bill returning education to the control of the Church, he was secretly anticlerical and was merely biding his time. Father Begel had obtained permission to use the town hall of Dommartin-sous-Amance for his religion classes; but as Napoleon's true attitude became more evident, this permission was rescinded. The problem of finding another suitable place for the classes was solved when Mlle. Antoinette Potier, a well-educated and well-to-do woman of Dommartin, offered the use of her home. She welcomed this chance to be of service to the poor of the village; and when Father Begel's :efforts to obtain religious teachers failed, she provided a home for a lay teacher, Julia Claudel, whom he employed. When the actual work of the ~chool began, Mlle. Claudel was assisted by the mistress of the house, An-toinette Potier, and her faithhfl house-keeper, Marie Gaillot. These three ladies, united by their common interest in the school, soon requested of Father Begel a simple program of daffy re-ligious practices which they might perform together. Through Father Begel, Marie Tabouret became acquainted with the school in the Potier home and was introduced to the three women who were conducting it. As she listened to Father Begel explaining his dream of providing qualified teachers for the poor and neglected villages of France, her own enthusiasm and interest were enkindled. In the quiet-spoken Antoinette Potier were detected the lineaments of a great sanctity already being proved in the crucible of physical suffering caused by tuber-culosis. As Marie considered Father Begel's ideals and then studied the gentle way in which these ideals were being brought to actuality, she was filled with a desire to be a part of this great work. At the age of twenty-seven.she received Father Begel's permission to join the little group. Soon other young women joined in the aposto!ate and Father Begel was able to staff schools in both of his parishes. When Mlle. Potier, on behalf of the others, asked for a more definite rule and a completely religious manner of life, Father Begel gave them a sodality manual to follow and suggested that they wear a blue uniform in honor of our Lady. On the feast of the 281 SISTER MARY KENNETH Review for Religious Assumption, 1855, the group assisted at Mass in the village chapel, dressed in a blue merino uniform with a cape of the same material, a white collar, and a simple peasant cap. They thus attracted no unwanted attention from an unfriendly government. During the next three years Father Begel studied the regu-lations of other congregations and finally drew up a constitution which he submitted to the bishop. On August 29, 1858, the bishop approved their rule but not the suggested title of the congre-gation. He wrote, "You propose to give to it the name of the Assumption of Mary. Permit me, M. le Curd, to submit there-upon my thought. I should prefer a name less high sounding and I would propose to name these daughters the Daughters or Sisters of the Holy Humility of Mary." Until this formal approval Was granted, the sisters had been permitted to make only private vows; but now four of their number pronounced public vows in the little chapel at Domo martin. They wore for the first time a starched white cap with a fluted frill, a black veil, and a silver band ring. On this occasion Antoinette Potier received the religious title of Mother Magdalen and Marie Tabouret became Sister Anna. Of this happy day, Mother Anna was later to write: "At last the day of our perpetual vows. It witnessed our solemn consecration to God. True we had vows but being only condi-tional we were in constant apprehension of being obliged to separate despite the bonds of charity which united us. Our union of views, our common desire to promote the greater glory of God, to instruct the poor, ignorant and abandoned children in small localities, to assist the poor and the sick out of our own poverty, to endure this poverty, humilition, and self-denial of both soul and body. But what of all this? Now we are permitted to consecrate ourselves to Jesus, soul, body and mind. What matters hardship?" ~ :When the community numbered twelve professed members, the sisters were able to staff four schools in the area, a seeming indication that their work was taking a firm root in the soil of France. As Napoleon's true attitude toward the Church became more and more evident, Father Begel courageously attacked the duplicity of the Emperor; and his refusal to permit the singing of the Te Deum in thanksgiving for the seizure of the Papal States resulted in the loss of his two pastorates. He was forced 282 September, 1959 MOTHER ANNA TABOURET to confine his priestly activities to the direction of the new re, ligious community; and the authorities then struck back in-directly by refusing the sisters teaching certification and by hampering their work in other small, annoying ways. At this time of crisis Father Begel received a request for the sisters to go to America to teach at a settlement of French immigrants in Louisville, Ol~io. Four of the sisters volunteered;. but as their difficulties with the government increased, it was: suggested that all might migrate. Bishop Amadeus Rappe (~f Cleveland wrote that he would welcome the entire community to his diocese. Sister Anna was greatly interested in the American venthre;- but she feared that the trip would be too strenuous for Mother Magdalen, whose health was rapidly failing. Mother Magdalen saw in the Bishop's invitation an answer from God to all their problems and prepared to sell her property to pay the expenses itnimvoel vweads itnh es ufcuhtu arne ucanrddeirntaakl,i nCgh.a Trlhees BLiasvhiogpe roief ,N daensctiyn eadt tthoi:s' further the progress of the Church in Africa by the foundation of the White Fathers. When the sisters consulted Bishop Lavi-gerie, he congratulated them on their fulfillment of his dearest dream, a missionary apostolate. Mother Magdalen directed the preparations for the trip, even to. the packing of her own trunk, although it was obvious to all that her death was near. On May 7, 1864, the saintly found-ress died, quietly and serenely, after making her act of resigna-~ tion to the will of God. Father Begel, the co-founder of the infant community, was almost inconsolable, Immediately the° community was involved in litigation as Mother Magdalen's relatives endeavored to break the provisions of her will. When their efforts proved successful, the little band of sisters was left practically destitute. In the dilemma and confusion resulting from Mother Magdalen's death and the loss of her property, Sister Anna, now appointed Mother, became the pillar and the support of the community. Behind her firm hand which grasped the reins of government was a brilliant mind equipped with unusual fore-sight and practical wisdom to cope with the multitudinous prob-lems that beset them. Physically she seemed inadequate for the task, b~it spiritually she was equal to the challenge of each new 283 SISTER MARY KENNETH Review for Religious day. She saw the futility of staying in a land where government opposition prevented them from doing the work of God. She realized the folly, humanly speaking, of going to America without funds of any kind; but when Bishop Rappe wrote, "You will find in America the same unfailing Providence you found in France," she placed herself and her community confidently in the hands of God. At the end of May, 1864, the little group, including Father Begel, ten professed sisters, one novice, and four orphans, sailed from Le Havre for America. As France grew smaller and smaller, finally fading entirely from view, they realized that they would never see their home land again. The voyage was further.saddened by the death of one of the orphans; and as Mother Anna gazed at the still little form, it seemed to her that the first link with France was already broken. The travelers arrived in New York on June 14, 1864. Bewil-derment at their inability to comprehend even a single word being spoken around them added to the confusion they felt as they waited, penniless and homeless, for official entry into the country. Their actual destination was Louisville, Ohio, where they received a heart-warming welcome from the enthusiastic French settlers. Father Begel, leaving the sisters at Louisville, went on to Cleveland to consult with Bishop Rappe. Upon his return Father Begel announced that the community was to be given the opportunity to purchase a farm of two hundred fifty acres in Pennsylvania. He glowingly conveyed Bishop Rappe's description of the fine 'brick building which was already on the property and praised the graciousness of the Bishop in making the offer to them. In his account of the farm, Father.Begel omitted mention of the fact that other communities attempting to live there had been forced to abandon the place because of its desola-tion, inaccessibility, and the difficulties involved in farming the swampy and rocky ground. Leaving two of their number at Louisville to teach the children of the French immigrants, the other sisters cheerfully and enthusiastically journeyed on to their new home. The sight that greeted them was enough to daunt the courage of the bravest. The property did indeed boast the praised brick struc-ture; but surrounding the building for acre upon acre were unhealthful swamps and thick, dense woods. The road leading 284 September, 1959 MOTHER ANNA TABOURET to the front door was nothing but a muddy path overgrown with weeds; the front yard was a marsh filled with rotting tree stumps: Vegetation of all kinds struggled for life, but the wild unconquered growth was far different from the trim lawns and neat gardens" of their beloved France, It was here in this hostile wilderness that the true qualities of Mother Anna's character reached their full flowering. With-out money, without friends, speaking a foreign language, she began a foundation that endured and prospered. Humanly,. her task seemed impossible, her obstacles insurmountable; but with' an unwavering, confidence in God she set herself to the work of accomplishing the impossible for His honor and glory. Her sound .practical judgment decided that the clearing 6f the land must be their first task if they were to survive at all From daw~ to dusk they labored -- these gentlewomen whose hands had been trained for the needle,rather than the plow. As they worked in the fields, felling trees, draining swamps, or plant-ing seeds, they sang hymns or played, the rosary. A potato crop was Mother Anna's first objective; .and when this harvest failed, dark days of misery and hunger descended upon the .community. Their troubles seemed to increase from day to day wi~h illness striking both sisters and orphans. This was the ~eriod" of which Mother Anna was to say, ~"Thing's were *too black to permit our feeling blue:" Finally she realized that thei~ 'affairs had reached such a crisis that unless help was forthcoming the whole venture would dissolve in failure. Her efforts to convince Father Begel of their dire situation had been unsuccessful as his only solution was the advice, "Take one more ~rphan and God will provide,for His own." Mother,Amia was willing to suffer any hardship to ensure the success of their° mission; .but when the very life of the congregation seemed at stake, she was cer-tain that the hour for action had struck. Without consulting Fathe~ Begel, she set off for Cleveland with Sister Odile and Sister Mary of the Angels. They walked. barefoot along the muddy ruts of the road into Youhgstown,~ Ohio, a distance of twelve miles, stopping at a creek to wash their feet and don their shoes before proceeding to the depot. After a trip on the night train, they arrived in Cleveland where kindly pedestrians directed' them from corner to .corner until they arrived at the Bishop's house. His amazed expression 285 SISTER MARY KENNETH Review for Religious prompted a speedy explanation of why they had come, unan-nounced, unexpected, uninvited: They blurted out their hopeless dilemma ~strangers .in d strange land -- no means of support -- no. means of communication with their American neighbors -- no food --- the failure of their crops-- the sickness of the orphans. Later Sister Odile was to admit, "I disgraced the community by sobbing aloud." -~- The bishop listened attentively and then asked, "What if I bid you remain and do the best you can, relying on Divine Providence?" Mother Anna replied, "We would obey, Bishop, but we have not sufficient food, clothing, nor bedding. We have orphans." We have sick ;sisters and sick children. Bishop, please, tell Father Begeltoi~ta~ke us home. France will not let us starve." The bishop gave them a small sum of money; but far more important, l~e assured them that if they. would remain and trust in_God, their, obedience would be r~warded. Perceiving in his words the ex.p~essed will of God, Mother Anna returned to the Vill~ and united all the efforts of the struggling community in a concentrated act of obedience. In an amazing way, the seemingly hopeless situation of the sisters began to improve. Everything thai Mothdr Anna's hand touched seemed to prosper; her will wbuld not admit defeat when she was acting under obedience. The wild, uncUltivated land gave way when faced with her de-termin_ at~ionto establish productive gardens and fruitful orchards. She worked side by side with the sisters in the field, laughing with this one, coaxing another, but always watchful that the work~progressed. . i .Wh.e~ m~ o~re o.r.phans arrived than could be cared for properly, she enlarged the housing facilities for both sisters and children. After two additions to the convent she had a suitable chapel erected for the Blessed Sacrament. She kept down building costs by producing the necessary materials on the farm itself. A saw mill-was built in the woods~ and she sought expert advice in select-ing .the trees to .be felled. The better lumber was then set aside to be seasoned for future buildings. A brick kiln. was erected in the front yard, and she herself sup~ervised the makir.g of the bricks. -. One of the most startling decisions for the little French community was Mother Anna's determination that they should become Americanized as completely and as quickly as possible. 286 September, 1959 MOYHER ANNA TABOURET She was convinced that all must learn the English language if they were to be effective in a teaching apostolate; and when a teacher of English was hired, she herself set the pace in acquiring a second tongue. At a time when money was very scarce she paid the necessary fee to have the community incorporated in the state of Pennsylvania. Her foresight in this particular matter was completely incomprehensible to her compatriots. When the deadly scourge of smallpox struck at the neigh-boring countryside, Mother Anna led the sisters into the homes of their American neighbors to nurse the victims of the epidemic. Thrusting aside all thought of personal contagion_ and fear, she turned all available convent space into hospital wards for the children. All through the long days and interminable nights of the siege, the sisters, under Mother Anna's leadership, fought the treacherous foe of infect_ion which had invaded the homes of the sick. One of the oi'iginal account books lists the cost of smallpox medicine at eighty-two dollars. A small fortune for those days! The heroism of the sisters at this ~ime evoked the admiration of their neighbors~ Catholics and Protestants alike; and as a token of gratitude the city of Lowell~ille, Ohio, pre-sented the community with a small sum of money. The gift came at a most opportune time,-for Mother Anna was struggling with the problem of settling.the debt on the Villa property. In an effort to raise the necessary three thou~sand dollars, the sisters had been soliciting fundg from the workers on a railroad that was being constructed near the Villa. When the officials of the company heard of the sisters' need, they encour-aged their employees to contribute generously. It was in gr,atitude for this unexpected assistance that Mother Anna offered to have the sisters care for any railroad men who were'injured or" taken ill" on the job. ¯." A two-room addition tO Father Begel's house, served as the infirmary which became known to the railroaders-gs "The Sisters~' .Hospital up Lowell Hill." As word spread of the excellent car.e g~v~en by the sisters, a larger building with suitable equipment soon .be.came necessary. The foundress decided ~to erect a hospital on the Villa property which would be large enough for the increased number of railroad patients. With her natural instinct for business she formulated a plan by which she could finish the clearing of the 287. SISTER MARY KENNETH Review for ReligioUs Villa woods, utilize her saw mill, and acquire the needed building funds. She drew up a. contract with the officials of the railroad by which they agreed to buy from her all the railroad ties she could produce. The constant buzzing of the mill from early morn-ing to late evening proved that the little saw mill was now her greatest asset. To solve the labor problem Mother Anna hired the vagrants whose predominant fault had lost them their rail-road jobs. Always a prudent women, she exacted a pledge of each one as she hired him. "I'll never touch a drop of the ~ld stuff as long as you boss me," was the frequently repeated promise as the recruiting of workers progressed. Instinctively, these rough men yielded her a ready obedience. With the erection of the hospital the. apostolate of the sisters was extended to include the care of the sick; and as the scope of the community's labors was enlarged~ more postulants applied for admission. With the .increased membership Mother Anna was able to supply teaching sisters to the nearby towns in Ohio and P~ennsylvania. In 1870 a group of~ ~isters volunteered to go to the diocese of St. Joseph, Misso.u~._i, in response to the bishop's plea for teachers. After other ~ssions had been established in Missouri, it was decided that the western group should function as a separ~ate community. In 1871. the separation was approved, and the sisters in Missouri formed a~ distinct congregation whose motherhouse was later to be establi.shed at Ottumwa, Iowa. Although Mother Anna was an eminently practical womari dealing efficiently with the details of ev.eryday life, spiritual values always occupied the foremost place in her mind. The ideals inspired by Lacordaire ever urgdd her to keep both herself and her sisters on the. very highest planes of ~piritual endeavor. Her character was marked by a rugged virility which scorned the unusual and the spectacular; if she was firm with her daugh-ters, she was even more rigorous with herself. In her dealings with her subjects she could accurately gauge the severity with which they could be dealt, and she did not exact the same gener-osity from all. Her personal opinions never biased her deci~i0ns and her keen intellect was able to weigh all sides of a question dispassionately before reaching a final' decision. In the governing of her community she insisted upon absolute obedience, and re-joiced when she received it. Anything and everything that made her daughters happy contributed to M~ther Anna's own happiness. She often planned 288 September, 1959 MOTHER ANNA TABOURET surprises for the community recreation hour and announced one night that soon a benefactress from France would be coming to pay the d0mmunity a visit. This lady was a trusted friend of the sisters who not only was greatly interested in them but also was able to render them invaluable assistance. When the time for the visitor's arrival came, Mother Anna invited all the sisters to the parlor where a °beautiful statue of the Blessed Virgin, more than life-size, awaited them. As a pledge of the community's devotion to Mary, this statue was placed above the high altar of-.the chapel where it remains today. It is at the foot of the community's benefactress that on each recurring August fifteenth the Mother of God is proclaimed the "supreme superior" of the congregation in an act of consecr~ition composed by Father Begel and recited by the General Superior. In the twenty years of her superiorship Mother Anna had guided her community in its struggle from seemingly impossible beginnings to circumstances in which the sisters were able to serve effectively as instruments of God's providence in the fields of education and charity. During this time her own health, "always deScate, l~ad been further weakened by the hardships of establishing the foundation. By 1882 the community seemed firmly established in America as evidenced by the increasing number of American subjects and the increased number of missions. Mother Anna believed that the time had come for the sisters to hold a canonical election. She, therefore, asked the Bishop's permission to resign, giving as the reasons her failing health and her desire that the sisters might freely elect a superior. The sentiment of the community was strongly opposed to her resignation and to the election of a new superior. While awaiting the Bishop's reply, patiently and humbly, Mother Anna began making quiet preparations for her retirement by moving her sleeping quarters to the attic with the other professed sisters. She seemed impelled b~ a powerful intuition that her retirement was near. The validity of her presentiment was apparent to a~l on July 1, 1883, when Mother Anna was stricken with a complete paralysis of her lower limbs. The Bishop, now compelled by the hand of God, accepted her resignation and presided over the election of her successor, Mother Odile. Mother Anna cheerfully resigned herself to the will of God and with characteristic foresight made plans for her new life as 289 SISTERMARY KENNETH Review for Religious an invalid. Her heart knew no idleness as it was constantly given to prayer, but she must have occupation not only for her mind but for her hands as well. After sorting and arranging the voluminous correspondence of Father Begel, she wrote an in-valuable life of the founder, who had died in 1884 and who had been replaced by his nephew, the Reverend Nicholas J. Franche. In addition to her writing she was now able to utilize her knowl-edge and love of music, and an organ was brought into her room to enable her to teach the young sisters the principles of harmony and theory. During the hours remaining after music lessons, thousands and thousands of postage stamps were cut, sorted, and packed for a community of Belgian missionaries. These priests used the stamps to make works of art which were then sold to ransom young African children. While busy with her stamps or needlework, the invalid was able to receive and enter-tain the many visitors who climbed to her attic room in search of advice or prayers. In the early days of her illness she had predicted that she would be an invalid as many years as she had been superior. The sisters laughed at this notion; but as the years passed on and death claimed more and more of the younger members, leaving Mother Anna to her life of suffering, many began to suspect the truth of her prophecy. She once confided to some of the sisters, "God has purposely forgotten that -He put me here in this corner. He sends me showers'of graces, but, you see, I owe Him a huge debt and have never been able to make a big payment. He is such a Good Master that instead of commanding His servants to bind me and cast me into the outer darkness He heeds my prayer, 'Be patient, dear Lord, and I will pay Thee all.' I must continue to work so that when He calls for me He will find me at my post:" For twenty long yea.rs she remained at her post, seeking no favors, asking no special services, denying' herself the luxuries of pity and idleness. Physically she had much to suffer; but the sufferings resulting from her difficult position in the community caused her~greater pain, for she still exercised tremendous power while ~ossessing no authority. Consulted by superiors and sub-jects alike,-she n~eticulously chose the prudent word so as to prevent wounding the charity of the community. Sometimes she reproached herself because the sisters were so very willing to serve her,.and she worried lest this service be rendered to her 290 September, 1959 MOTHER ANNA TABOURET personally rather than to" Christ through her. In .1902, as she approached her seventy-sixth birthday, some of the sisters recalled that her twenty-year prediction' was nearing its ful-fillment. Although Mother Anna had aged through the years as the paralysis progressed, the changes had been so gradual as to be almost imperceptible. Early in 1903 a severe cold led to pneumon-ia, and because her condition seemed critical she received the Last Sacraments. After the anointing she apparently regained her strength, but by May of that year it was obvious that her exile was almost over. When Mother Patrick, the General Superior, ¯suggested sending for Father Franche in order that she might be anointed again, the invalid merely replied, "As you will." The little girl who had screamed and stormed to have ¯ her own way, was now a woman of seventy-seven, eage~ bnly for the will of God. Father Franche hastened to the room of the "Saint of the Garret" as one priest had called her. She smiled as he approached the bed with the holy otis. After the anointing she received Holy Communion, and in about the time it would take to consume the Host she was dead. The Bridegroom had come and called for her at the "post" where she had been waiting for twenty years. Mother Anna was buried from the simple yet beautiful chapel that she herself had planned and erected. After the Requiem Mass the funeral procession passed down the ~ront yard which she had claimed from the wilderness, in front of the convent she had built, near the orphanage she had loved, past the hospital she had erected, in full view of the farmlands she had cleared, until .it reached the little cemetery she had plotted out for her daughters. She was buried near Father Begel, her friend in life and her companion in death. Over her grave her daughters erected a cross to let the world know that they had found The Valiant Woman. Future events were to prove the truth of their conviction. The tiny grain of mustard seed blown by the providence of God from the native soil of France to the strange, harsh ground of America has taken root and sprung up yielding more than seven hundred fifty professed members. "All these rise up and call her blessed." The status of the congregation, once diocesan, is now that of a pontifical institute, conducting elementary and 291 SISTER I~ARY KENNETH secondary schools, hospitals, confraternity classes, and a home for crippled children. The steady progress and consistent growth of the community, together with the efforts of her daughters to prove themselves worthy of so valiant a mother by the practice of holy humility are the best evidence for the validity of her epitaph: She hath looked well to the paths of her house; and hath not eaten her bread idle. (Prov 31:27) 292 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S.J. IN THIS ARTICLE a summary will be given of the documents which appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (A_AS) during April and May, 1959. Throughout the survey all page references will be to the 1959 AAS (v. 51). Two Consistories On March 12, 1959 (AAS, pp. 177-83), John XXIII held two consistories. In the first, a public one, His Holiness bestowed the red hat on three cardinals who had been previously created on December 15, 1958. In the second and secret consistory the Pontiff confirmed Cardinal Tisserant as Camerlengo of the Sacred College for the year 1959; he likewise ratified the election of Bishop Paul Cheikho as Pa-triarch of Babylon for the Chaldeans, published the list of prelates appointed since the last consistory, bestowed three cardinalatial churches in Rome, and accepted various postulations for the pallium. Easter Messages On Holy Saturday evening, March 28, 1959 (AAS, pp. 241-45), the Vicar of Christ broadcast to the entire world the customary Easter message. The living Church, he told his listeners, is the ever-present confirmation of the Resurrection of Christ. Like her founder, the Church has experienced enemies who sought to entomb her; but also like Him she has always risen again. Accordingly, he said, the feast of Easter should lead Catholics to intensify their fidelity to the Church. But, he continued, Easter also has a message for thd spiritual life of each of the faithful. Easter, he pointed out, is a mystery of death and life; so it is that at this time each of the faithful is asked to die to sin by purify-ing his conscience in the sacrament of penance and then to nourish himself with the vivifying flesh of the immaculate Lamb of God. The next day (AAS, pp. 245-52) the Pope delivered an Easter homily during th~ Solemn High Mass which he celebrated in St. Peter's. Speaking first of the passion and death of Christ, the Pontiff Observed that the passion of Christ is both sacrament and example; it is the first because it contains and transmits the power of divine grace;, and it is the second because it prompts all of us to the practice of that patience of which Christ is the supreme teacher. Then reflecting on the Resur-rection, the Pontiff pointed out that in this mystery of Easter the 293 R. F. ~SMITH Review for Religious Master of life has triumphed over death and His victory is the victory of the Church throughout the ages. Accordingly Christians must face the future with confidence, in spite of all .the machinations of the Prince of Darkness. For the victory of Christ over death is our guarantee of victory over the obstacles to justice, liberty, and peace. Saints, Blessed, Servants of God Several of th~ documents of the April-May issues of AAS were devoted to St. Pius X. On April 11, 1959 (AAS, pp. 316-18), the Holy .Father sent a written message to the people of Venice on the occasion of his sending to that city the relics of St. Pius for a month's stay. The sending of the relics, said the Pontiff, fulfills the prophetic words spoken by the saint when he left Venice for the conclave at which he was elected Pope: "Dead or alive, I shall return." His Holiness went on to say that previous to his own election as Pope he had hoped to be buried in Venice near the tomb of St. Mark; since, however, that is now impossible, he expressed the wish to be buried in St. Peter's near the altar of Pius X, his predecessor both in Venice and in Rome. On May 10, 1959 (AAS, pp. 373-75), the Vicar of Christ broadcast to the Venetians a panegyric of St. Plus X at the conclusion of the month of devotions in his honor; and a similar panegyric (AAS, pp. 367-71) was preached by him in the Piazza of St. Peter's to the faithful who had gathered there to welcome back the relics of St. Pius after their stay in Venice; onthe same occasion the Pope also gave a panegyric in honor of St. John Bosco whose relics were being brought at the same time for a stay in St. Peter's. On April 12, 1959 (AAS, pp. 289-94), John XXIII performed the first canonizations of his reign by solemnly declaring the sainthood of Blessed Charles of Sezze (1613-1670), confessor, Franciscan lay brother, and of Blessed Juana Joaquina de Vedruna de Mas (1783-. 1854), widow, foundress of the Carmelite Sisters of Charity. During the Mass after the canonizations the Holy Father delivered a homily on the two saints. Using a thought from St. Francis de Sales to the effect that Christian devotion and sanctity can be reached by everyone no matter what his state or condition of life may be, the Pontiff proceed-ed to show how the two new saints admirably prove the Salesian doc-trine. St. Charles was of a poor family; St. Joaquina was of noble birth; St. Charles was a farm laborer; St. Joaquina was raised in surroundings with no lack of material things. Yet both the one and the other reached the heights of sanctity. On April 13, 1959 (AAS, pp. 304-07), the Pontiff delivered an. allocution to thbse who had attended the canonization on the previous day. The two saints, the Pope said, teach us that the things that are worthwhile are not the things of the world, nor human honor, nor nobility of family, nor wealth, but the will of God. 294 September, 1959 ROMAN DOCUMENTS On March 11, 1959 (AAS, pp. 325-27),' the Sacred Congregation of Rites issued a decree approving the two miracles required for the beatification of the Servant of God, Helen Guerra (1835-1914), foun-dress of the Oblate Sisters of the Holy Ghost (popularly known as the Sisters of St. Zita). On the same date (AAS, pp. 328-30) the same Congregation also approved the necessary miracles for the beatification of the Servant of God Mary Margaret d'Youville (1701-1771), foundress and first superior general of the Congregation of the Sisters of Charity (Grey Nuns). Five weeks later on April 19, 1959 (AAS, pp. 387-90), the Congregation issued the decrees stating that it was safe to proceed ¯ with the beatification of both the Servants of God mentioned above. Then on April 26, 1959 (AAS, pp. 337-42), John XXIII issued the apostolic letter, "Renovans faciem terrae," by which the beatification of Helen Guerra was proclaimed to the Church; in the document the Pontiff points out that Leo XIII was moved by the Blessed's zeal for devotion to the Holy Spirit to commend special prayers to all Catholics during the Pentecost octave and later to write the encyclical Divinurn illud munus on the Holy Spirit. On May 3, 1959 (AAS, pp. 343-48), His Holiness issued the official notice of the beatification of Mary Margaret d'Youville in the apostolic letter, Caritatis praeconium. In the notice of the beatification the Pontiff singled out charity to-wards others as the commanding trait of the new Blessed, a trait that merited for her the title of "the mother of universal charity." On April 27, 1959 (AAS, pp. 352-54),'the Vicar of Christ delivered an allocution to Luccan Catholics present for the beatification of Blessed Helen. Having recalled that she was the teacher of St. Gemma Galgani, the Pontiff said that as St. Margaret Mary was the divine instrument for spreading devotion to the Sacred Heart, so Blessed Helen was God's instrument for spreading devotion to the Holy Spirit. Her own life, he continued, was a luminous manifestation of the superabundant fruits which the Holy Spirit infuses into those who are docile to His action. He concluded by saying that the life of the Blessed has a vital lesson for today; we n~eed a new coming of the Holy Spirit, a new Pehtecost to renew the face of the earth. O.n May 4, 1959 (AAS, pp. 363-64), His Holiness gave an allocution to the Canadians present in Rome for the beatification of Blessed Mary Margaret d'Youville. Pointing out that she is the first Canadian-b0rn blessed, he urged his listeners to imitate her profound faith, her perfect living out of various states of life, and especially her intense and. supernatural love of the pobr, the sick, and the unfortunate of every kind. On November 20, 1958 (AAS, pp. 274-77), the Sacred C~ngrega-tion of Rites approved the introduction of the cause of the Servant of God Aloysius Palazzolo (1827-1886), priest, founder of. the Sisters of the Poor (Italy). On January 28, 1959 (AAS, pp. 27~-78), the same 295 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious Congregation approved the reassumption of the cause of Blessed Mar~ of Providence (1825-1871), virgin, foundress of the Helpers of the Holy Souls. To Priests and Religious On February 10, 1959 (AAS, pp. 190-95), the Roman Pontiff gave an allocution to the Lenten preachers of Rome, discussing with them the traits that should mark their preaching. Wisdom, simplicity, and chari-ty, he said, should mark the sermon work of a priest. Wisdom should be shown in the choice of subject matter and the Pontiff recommended the following for their sermons: sin and its punishment, private and pub-lic worship, the sanctification of Sundays and holy days, the duties of the married state, the education of children, respect for the human person. Simplicity, he continued, should lead them not to seek their own renown but to work for the instruction of their hearers, while charity should urge them to seek only one thing: to draw their listeners to the love of God. On March 12, 1959 (AAS, pp. 198-202), the Pontiff addressed the members of the Apostolic Union of the Clergy, pointing out to them that a priest before all else must be a man of God. Like Abraham, a priest has left his own home to seek the land of promise in which, if he is true to his vocation, he will find Christ and Him crucified. Scrip-ture and the EucharisL he continued, must be the food of the priestly life; speaking of the latter, he said: "There is no perfection nor true love of.God Or of Christ without a profound devotion to the Eucharist." He' concluded by reminding his listeners that their love for souls must lead them to prayer, contemplation, and penance, for "This kind is driven out only by prayer and fasting" .(Mk 9:28). On April 21, 1959 (AAS, pp. 375-81), the Pontiff delivered an exhortation by radio broadcast to the clergy of .Venice gathered in the Basilica of St. Mark to honor the relics of St. Pius X. His Holiness began by remarking that a priest is granted what is not given even to the angels. Accordingly a priest must reflect this dignity in every aspect of his life and conduct. He advised his listeners that care of their own soul, manifested in prayer, recollection, study of sacred doctrine, and careful use of the sacrament of penance, must come before every pas-toral preoccupation. He emphasized this point by quoting St. John Chrysostom: "If the priest possesses all the virtues, then he is like the best kind of salt; and with it the whole people can be seasoned. This - will be done by seeing the priest ~ather than by hearing him; for the first way to learn is by seeing the good; and the second way is by hear-ing it." The Pope concluded his exhortation by urging his listeners to continued loyalty to the Church and to the pursuit of all human values, natural and supernatural. 296 September, 1959 ROMAN DOCUMENTS On April 16, 1959 (AAS, pp. 307-13), the Pontiff delivered an allocution to all branches of the Franciscan family on the 750th anni-sary of the pontifical confirmation of the Franciscan Rule. All branches of the Franciscans, the Pontiff stated, .are faithful to the fundamental points of the original Franciscan Rule: poverty, obedience, charity. Franciscan poverty, he went on to say, emphasizes the serene joy that comes from the giving up of material possessions. Obedience, especially that to the Roman Pontiff, he continued, is a necessity of religious life; history shows that obedience to the Holy See has led to success in the life of religious orders, while lack of obedience has led to unfortunate states of insubordination and unruliness. Finally he noted that charity has always been the soul of the Franciscan missionary spirit; it has made of the members of the Franciscan family conquistadors of souls for the triumph of the name, love, and kingdom of Christ crucified. Messages on Various Subjects Under the date of February 15, 1959 (AAS, pp. 206-08), John XXIII sent a written message to the first Eucharistic Congress of Cen-tral America. The Eucharist, the Pontiff declared, infuses into the heart of man a new energy of supernatural love which strengthens while it purifies human love. The Eucharist unifies the entire man until there is created in each individual the perfect man, created to the image of God and conformed to. the example of His Son. Moreover, he added, the Eucharist also helps human relations; for by calming the tumults of the spirit, it leads to goodness, justice, and mercy. Finally the Eu-charist strengthens family life; since Christ's love has given us the sacrament of the Eucharist, it is there that the highest spiritual union between man and wife can be realized. On April 19, 1959 (AAS, pp. 313-14), the Vicar of Christ sent a radio message to the faithful of Belgium on the tenth anniversary of the Belgian radio program, "The Missionary Hour." His message to the Belgi.a. ns can be summarized in two quotations which His Holiness took from the writings of Plus XII: "The missionary spirit and the Catholic spirit are one and the same thing." "The Catholic vitality of a nation is measured by the sacrifices it makes for the cause of the mis-sions." A week later (A_AS, pp. 349-52) the Pontiff addressed a group of Italian women devoted to the assistance of missionaries. He told them that missionary cooperation today is. urgent and imperative, for the last ten years have been critical ones for missionary activity. He pointed out to his listeners that missionary cooperation is not exhausted by material aid; if it were, then the problem of the missions would be only a human problem. As it is, however, the problem is a supernatural one; and material help, while necessary, is neither the principal nor the only form of assistance. To such help there must be added prayer and 297 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious above all suffering. He concluded by reminding his audience that mis-sionary cooperation will not only help the missionaries but will also revitalize their own dioceses and parishes. On February 10, 1959 (AAS, pp. 205-06), John XXIII sent a writ-ten message to the First National Congress of Spain on the Family, telling the members of the Congress that three principal loves exist in the heart of man: conjugal love, parental love, and filial love; to harm these loves, he said, is to profane what is sacred and to lead to the ruin of one's country and of all of humanity. On March 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 195-97), the Pontiff addressed the Ninth National Con-gress of the Women's Italian Center; he reminded his listeners that the family finds its guardian and protector in the wife and mother of the family; hence in the face of present dangers to the family, they must as wives and mothers turn all their efforts to the preservation of family life. On May 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 355-59), the Pontiff gave an allocution to a group of Italian workers, telling them that true happiness consists in not losing sight of man's supreme goal; hence he urged them always to seek celestial things even when they endeavor to raise their level of living. OH March 18, 1959 (AAS, pp. 202-04), His Holiness addressed members of the International Symposium on Prophylaxis, assuring them that their work was a labor of real charity, since they endeavor to prevent those physical and psychical disturbances which obscure the splendor of the divine spark that is human reason. On May 4, 1959 (AAS, pp.359-62), John XXIII spoke to the participants in the Third Italian Congress of Catholic Newspapers and Periodicals. He urged his listeners to employ the arms of truth and of charity in their work and advised them to be kind even when fighting what is wrong according to the saying of St. Augustine: "Kill the error, but love the erring." He concluded by exhorting his listeners to publish works that will reflect the wisdom, love, and beauty of God. On April 11, 1959 (AAS, pp. 303-04), the Pontiff addressed an international group of war veterans; he told them that peace can not be decreed by any earthly power but mt~st flow from the interior of each individual man. On April 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 299-301), the Pope spoke to members of the Federation of Catholic Universities; he pleaded with them to con-centrate on building up a strong wall against today's materialism, con-cluding by asking them to be Christ-bearers, since Christ is the apex of all knowledge. On the same day (A/KS, pp. 259-60) the Pontiff ad-dressed the Second Congress of Negro Writers and Artists. He encour-aged them in their study of the unity and responsibilities of a Negro- African culture. He pointed out, however, that the Church is not to be identified with any one culture, for her work is of another order -- that of the religious salvation of man. Nevertheless, he added, the 298 September,. 1959 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Church is always ready to acknowledge, welcome, and animate all that is to the honor of human intelligence. He concluded his talk by urging his audience to have sympathy for and to collaborate with other cultures. On April 7, 1959 (AAS, pp. 301-02), the Vicar of Christ ad-dressed the members of the First Ciceronian Congress. He told them that because so many today pursue the study of mathematics and of tech-nology, it is necessary to stress Latin and similar subjec.ts; otherwise men will become like the machines they make: cold, hard, loveless. On February 16, 1959 (AAS, pp. 204-05), the Pontiff delivered the first radio message to Japan from V.atican City Radio, urging Japanese Catholics to greater sanctity in their lives. Miscellaneous Documents A decree of the Sacred Consistorial Congregation, dated February 28, 1959 (AAS, pp. 272-74), provides that a~l military vicars should make an ad limina visit to Rome every five years. In a special document of February 18, 1959 (AAS, p. 228), the Holy Father appointed the members of a Commission to organize the coming diocesan synod of Rome. By the apostolic letter, Boni pastoris, February 22, 1959 (AAS, pp. 183-87), John XXIII set up new norms to govern the activity of the Pontifical Commission for Motion Pictures, Radio, and Television. On March 6, 1959 (AAS, p. 271), the Holy Office prohibited the diffu-sion of all representations and writings which present the devotion to the Divine Mercy according to the forms proposed by Sister Faustina Kowalska; the removal of any such representations which may already be exposed for worship was left to the prudence of the bishops. On April 4, 1959 (AAS, pp. 271-72), the same Holy Office forbade Cathohcs to vote for candidates who are associated with Communists and who favor them in their way of acting. In a special radio message of April 27, 1959 (AAS, pp. 314-16), the Holy Father requested prayers during the month of May for the success of the projected General Council. 299 Views, News, Previews ST. CHARLES of Sezze, one of the two saints whose canonizations are noted in this issue's "Survey of Roman Documents," was born in 1613 in the small town of Sezze, Italy, a few miles to the south of Rome. Born Giancarlo Macchione, he received only a rudi-mentary education which taught him to read and to write; at the age of twenty-two he was received, against the wishes ~of his relatives, into the novitiate of the Roman Franciscan Province and was given the name of Charles. After his profession he was appointed to various houses of his province and was finally stationed in Rome at San Fran-cesco a Ripa where he continued to live until his death. Outwardly he led the humblest kind of life, being employed as gardener, cook, sacristan, and beggar for the community. Inwardly, however, he led a life of sublime mysticism. He was the recipient of many extraordinary mystical graces: visions, transverberations, intuitive knowl.edge of con-sciences. To Alexander VII, Clement IX, Clement X, and Clement XI he predicted their election to the papacy. The trials of his life ~vere comparable to his privileges. He was subject to intense interior desola-tion;" God also allowed him to be tried by vehement passions, especially those of anger and lust; and apparently it was only his practice of severe and continued penance that permitted him to persevere in the path of ~anctity in spite of the temptations to which his passions led. At the order of his superiors he composed in prose and verse a consider-able number of spiritual writings which are characterized by a style as simple as it is profound. A few of these writings have appeared in printing, but the great majority of them remain unpublished. St. Charles died on January 6, 1670; he was beatified two centuries later by Leo XIII; according to the decree of canonization the commemoration of St. Charles is to be made on January 6. St. Juana Joaquina de Vedruna de Mas, the second of the two saints mentioned in this issue's "Survey of Roman Documents," was born at Barcelona, Spain, on April 16, 1783, to a family both pious and well-to-do. Even as a young child she was the recipient of many signal graces, not the least of which was the ability to see God in all the events that happened to her. At an early age, she felt drawn to the religions life and at twelve she expressed a wish to join the Carmelites. Religious life, however, was not yet in God's plans for her; and at the age of six-teen she married a Barcelona lawyer, Theodore de Mas. Nine children were born to the marriage, six of whom later became religions. During her years of marriage, St. Joaquina showed herself a model wife and mother. When Napoleon invaded Spain, Joaquina and her children 300 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS were forced to flee from their home, while Theodore fought with the Spanish troops to repulse the invader. Soon after peace was established, Theodore died, worn out and exhausted by the hardships of the cam-paign against the Napoleonic invasion. Widowed at the age of thirty-three, Joaquina devoted herself to the care of her children. After they were raised and provided for, the desire for religious life reasserted it-self once more; and at the advice of a Capu.chin father she founded a new congregation, the Carmelite sisters of Charity. The purpose of the new institute was to educate the daughters of poor families and to care for the aged. At the time of the foundation of the institute St. Joaquina was forty-three. The rest of her life was largely occupied with the train-ing of her daughters in religion. Courage, humility, work, and joy were the characteristic qualities she wished to see in her religions. Her own spiritual life was characterized by an ardent devotion to the Most Blessed Trinity as well as by the practice of heavy penances. She died in Barcelona on August 28, 1854; at the time of her death her congrega-tion totaled twenty-~ven honses. St. Joaquina's cause was introduced on January 13, 1920, and she was beatified on May 19, 1940. Her feast is to be kept on August 28. The last command of Christ before He ascended into heaven was, according to Mark 16:15, "Go into the whole world, and preach the gospel to every creature." The command thns laid upon the whole Church through the Apostles should have special meaning for religions who have bound themselves to be the perfect followers of Christ. For this reason it is salutary to reflect on how much is still to be done before the gospel is preached to every creature. Of the 2,684,660,000 persons in the world professing a religion, only a little more than 31% are Chris-tians, while not quite 19% are Catholics. Even more sobering is the realization that only 47 % of the world's religions population is mono-theistic, the larger part of the human race being polytheistic, pantheis-tic, or the like. Missionary activity, then, must continue to be one of the primary activities of the Church and it is to be expected that as in the past religions will make that activity one of their chief preoccupa-tions. Inforrnations catholiques internationales for June 1, 1959, contains a valuable, country-by-country survey of vocations to the priesthood in Europe today. According to this survey Spain, which in 1769 pos-sessed 65,823 priests, now has only 23,372. In relation to Spain's total population, there is one priest for every 1,264 inhabitants; in this con-nection, however, it should be remembered that most of Spain's priests are massed in the northern part of the country, the southern part be- 301 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS ing decidedly lacking in priests and vocations. A survey made in Spanish seminaries during the years 1952-1957 showed that 30% abandoned their seminary studies during that time. Of all the European countries Portugal is worse off with regard to priests and vocations, having but one priest for every 1,773 inhabitants. The loss in seminaries in Por-tugal is high; only about 20% of those entering seminaries persevere in their studies and are ordained. Ireland is exceptionally well off, for it has one priest for every 593 inhabitants; it should also be noted that esch year for every Irish priest ordained for work in Ireland itself, another Irish priest is ordained for work in countries other than Ire-land. England with a total of 7,040 priests has one priest for every 1,214 Catholics. A notable characteristic of English vocations is the large number of late vocations. Holland is well off with regard to priests, having one priest for every 480 Catholics; since, however, most of these priests are not engaged in parish work, the actual working ratio is one priest in parish work for every 1,220 Catholics. It should also be noted that Dutch religious priests constitute 13% of the total number of priests in missionary work. Perseverance in seminary studies is a prob-lem in Holland; in 1925, 5~)% of those entering seminaries were ordained; at the present time, however, that percentage is down to.25 %. Belgium has one priest for every 878 inhabitants and has 30 vocations to the priesthood for every .10,000 population. West Germany has but one priest for every 1,568 Catholics; it consequently needs priests badly but an increase in vocations does not seem likely in the near future. Austria too needs priests, having but one priest in ministerial work for every 1,439 Catholics; it has been estimated that the country needs 1,700 more priests to adequately meet its needs. Italy possesses 1 priest for every 1,008 inhabitants, but the priests are badly distributed. North Italy has many priests, while the southern part needs a large increase in them. 70% of those beginning seminary studies drop out of the seminaries before ordination; moreover the age level of Italian priests is high, 55 % Of them being over 50 years of age. 302 uestions nswers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] You have often said that it is the sense of canon law, the mind and will of the Holy See, and the doctrine of authors that a diocesan congregation should become pontifical. I ha~e heard others either refuse to accept or deny this bpinion. In anticipation of this objection, I carefully refrained from stating my own opinion in an article on this matter and explained the question from the opinion of others (R~.vx~.w FOR R~.LIGXOUS, 9 [1950], 63-68). The conclusion of the article is pertinent to the present objection. "The reader is now in a position to give his own answers to the questions of this article. These answers should be based primarily on the mind and will of the Holy See and on the common opinion in the Church. If the will of the Holy See is evident with regard to any action, arguments in favor of or contrary to that action are simply a matter of indifference." This question is outside the field of personal opinion, since the Holy See every five years asks a diocesan congregation in effect: "Have you or do you intend to make a petition for pontifical approval, and if not, why not (Quinquennial Report, n. 4)?" Father Gambari, an official of the Sacred Congregation of Religions, was recently asked the same question and replied: "Yes, indeed, it is the mind of the Holy See that the diocesan communities which have the conditions required become pontifical. Diocesdn character is only a stage of preparation for the pontifical character . The mind of the Church is that diocesan communities become papal, so they must be connected with the Holy See directly rather than to the Holy See through different bishops (1957 Sisters' Institute of Spirituality, 155)." What do we get out of becoming pontifical? This question or objection is now being proposed quite frequently. My conjecture is that the objection has its source in the unwillingness to abandon the false opinion that diocesan status is permanent and definitive, whereas it is only initial,' temporary, and probationary. The objection is founded on the profit motive, which has its legitimate place but not against the expressed will of the Ho!y See. The intrinsic arguments for pontifical approval were also given in the article cited in the preceding question, from which I quote the following: "The intrinsic arguments for seeking papal approval emphasized by the authors cited above are: (1) the government and the constitutions of the institute 303 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious receive a greater authority; (2) the central and internal government becomes stronger; (3) the unity ~f'government, spirit, and ministries of the institute is preserved; (4) the institute is endowed with a greater stability and is thus better able to preserve its original nature and accomplish its original 'purpose; (5) the life and government of the institute become more ,autonomous; (6) the institute has a greater liberty of diffusion and thus of increase. To these can be added: (7) the more autonomous character of the institute naturally begets, a greater internal initiative; (8) the immediate subjection to the Head of all Christendom and the wider diffusion of the institute are more apt to engender the universal viewpoint of the Holy See; (9) the constitutions approved by the Holy See and examined and corrected by specialists will very likely possess a greater excellence and utility." (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 9 {1950], 68) Are more American diocesan congregations becoming pontifical? The answer is slowly and cautiously in the affirmative. As will appear from the figures given below, 1957 was a more optimistic year. These figures are taken from the unofficial publication, L'Attivit~ della Santa Sede. They are evidently incomplete. This publication gives the names of the institutes that were approved. The ages of the twelve American congregations that received their first pontifical approval are very interesting. Their foundation dates, as given in popular manuals, put them in two distinct classes, the very old, and the rest; but not all of the latter are very young (18"33, 1842, 1854, 1858, 1858, 1859, 1859, 1864 and 1902, 1916, 1918, 1929). The average age of the former group is 106 years. We have given the conditions necessary for pontifical approval at least twice in the past and we quote them again. " . . . a diocesan congregation should not delay its petition for pontifical ap-proval until it has the size that admits or demands a division into provinces. Unless special difficulties exist against this petition, and such difficulties must be explained to the Sacred Congregation, the diocesan institute should request papal approbation as soon as the necessary conditions are verified. These are: a) the congregation by a sufficient test of time should have given proof of stability, religious observance, piety, and spiritual profit of its works; b) it is sufficient that the con-gregation number one hundred and fifty members. It is not required that the congregation have houses in more than one diocese." (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 11 [1952], 14; 12 [1953], 253), These conditions demand merely that the diocesan congregation have grown to a vigorous youth. Pontifical approval is not to be requested in the weakness of infancy nor in the uncertainties of childhood, but we are not to conceive pontifical approval as a refuge for the aged nor as a geriatric stimulant. 304 September, 1959 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Decree of Praise Total United States Definitive Approbation Total United States 1943 9 0 -- -- 1948' 5 0 5 0 1950 7 0 14 1 1951 9 2 -- -- 1953 8 1 3 0 1954 3 1 3 1 1955 1 0 2 0 1956 6 2 3 1 1957 24 6 18 2 72 12 48 5 Something strange, at least in my opinion, occurs at times in relation to our local and provincial chapters. A local superior will preside at the election of the delegate and substitutes in his house; and yet, because his term of office has expired, he himself will not be a member of the provincial chapter. The same thing happens to a provincial when his term expires after the provincial but before the general chapter. Am I right in thinking these occurrences strange? If so, how can they be avoided? An ex officio member of a chapter loses his membership if he no longer holds the same position at the beginning of a chapter; for example, a brother provincial who has ceased to. hold that office, even if only after the provincial chapter, is evidently not an ex officio member of the general chapter. The new brother provincial is, since he holds the office to which the ex officio membership is attached. This is also ob-viously true of a local superior when an ex officio membership is attached to this office. It is not contradictory but at least somewhat incongruous that an elected delegate from a house would ente.r a general or provincial chapter as a delegate of a house after he had been transferred from it. The same thing is true of a delegate of a territorial group. It would be almost equally incongruous to transfer religious, from houses or territories of groups after the convocation of a general or provincial chapter and before the completion of the house or group election of delegates. Such transfers would make it more difficult for the religious to know thos,e qualified as delegate~. All transfers of superiors or subjects of this nature could also expose the higher superior to the suspicion of self-interest or intrigue. ~here is no law of the code nor any general practice of the Holy See on this matter. The following minimum legislation would be necessary in the constitutions to avoid the situations described above. (a) From the date of the convocation of the general chapter until its completion, 305 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review [or Religious no provincial may be changed from his cffi~e. If his term expires during this interval, it is extended automatically by the law of the constitutions until after the general chapter. (b) The same law is to be enacted for local superiors when ex officio membership is attached to this office and if there are no provinces; if there are provinces, the law extends only to the completion of the provincial chapter. (c) .Elected delegates and substitutes are not to be transferred after their election from the house or territory of the group. This extends also to a removal of local superiors elected as either delegates or substitutes in other groupings. (d) After the convocation of the general chapter and until the local chapters are completed, religious are not to be transferred, except for an urgent reason, from one house to another or, when territorial groups are in use, from one territory to another. Such legislation is contained in the constitutions of some lay insti-tutes. Usually it goes beyond the minimum norms and forbids the change of any superior or religious from the date of convocation until the close of the general chapter, either absolutely or outside of necessary and urgent cases, for example: "From the date of convocation of the chapter, the transferring of religious or superiors from one house to another is p.ermitted only for grave reasons, approved as such by the general council. The same holds for the deposition of superiors." Such norms may also be contained in the customs; and, if they exist neither in the constitutions nor customs, at least the minimum norms given above should be followed as principles of prudent government. The avoidance of such situations is a sufficient reason for the competent higher superior to prolong the term of a provincial or local superior, since the Holy See itself admits the sufficiency of this reason in approving constitutions. In our pontifical institute of simple vows, all the religious pro-fessed of perpetual vows are members of the general chapter. In the reply to our quinquennial report, the Holy See told us to institute a system of delegates. We do not want delegates; we wish to retain our' vote. What are we to do? There can be no objective obscurity or confusion as to what you are to do when the Holy See has told you what to do~ As stated before in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, there are published corrections of constitutions which show that the Holy See was demanding a system of delegates at least as far back as 1887. The purpose of a system of delegates is to secure competent membership from the entire institute but to confine~ the chapter within a workable and efficient number of members. A system of delegates is also necessary now for the general and regional chapters of nuns. The necessity of delegates was explained and em-phasized in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 10 (1951), 187-90. 306 September, 1959 QOESTIONS AND ANSWERS Our pontifical congregation is not divided into provinces, but we are considering such h division. How many members would each provinc'e send to the general chapter? If we decide rather to include a division into'regions~ in our constitutions, how many members would each region send to the general chapter? In institutes divided into provinces, the provincial is a member of the general chapter in virtue of his office. This is true also of the superiors of vice-provinces, quasi-provinces, regions, and vicariates. The elected delegates from a province to the general chapter are almost universally two, most rarely three or four; and they are practically always elected in a provincial chapter. The Holy See has approved, even recently, variations of this norm, for example: "one or two delegates according as the province has less or more than a hundred members"; "one delegate for each province but two delegates for any province that exceeds three hundred." The practice on delegates from vice-provinces, quasi-provinces, regions, and vicariates varies. In some constitutions, they are given no delegates; in others all are granted one or two; and in some institutes one or two according to the number of professed religious in the territory, for example, one delegate if there are less than forty religious, two if forty or more. At summer school this year, a religious was complaining of the fact that a very large house sent only the same number of delegates to the general chapter, e.g., a house of twelve would have the same representation as a house of seventy-five. I brought out the fact that, according to our constitutions, a house sends one delegate for every twelve professed members. Why don't all institutes have this fair norm? Both of the institutes in question h