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

Issue 34.6 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Revtew ]or Rehgtous is edited by faculty members of the School of Diwnlty of St Louis Umverslty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Budding, 539 North Grand Boulevard: St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right ~) 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years (for airmail delivery, add $5.00 per year). Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review Jot Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1975 Volume 34 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen. S.J.: St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Unmarriageable for God's Sake Peter G. van Breemen, S.J. Father van Breemen studied nuclear physics in Amsterdam, Holland, and in Rochester, N.Y. He was novice-master in his home province (Netherlands), has a broad experience in Working with priests and religious as spiritual director and lecturer both here and abroad, and is presently in charge of the combined Flemish (Belgian)-Dutch novitiate. His present address is Priorijdreef 21; 1160 Brussels, Belgium. The Old Testament often speaks of virginity, but always the reference is to the virginity of the people as a whole; e.g., Jeremiah says, "I build you once more; ¯ you shall be ri~buiit, virgin of Israel" (3, 1-4), and again, "Come home, virgin of Israel, come home to these towns of yours" (31, 21). In Isaiah we find the same concept: the chosen people as a whole is the virgin bride of Yahweh: Like a young man marrying a virgin so will the one who built you wed you, and as the bridegroom rejoices in his bride, ,so will your God rejoice in you (62, 5). For now your creator will be your husband, his name, Yahweh. Sabaoth; your redeemer will be the Holy One.of Israel, he is called the God of the whole earth (54, 5). We can make the general statement that in the Old Testament virginity is never lived in a personal way. On the contrary, lJersonal virginity is far removed from the mind of an Israelite. Fertiliiy was a blessing, and the com-mandment of Genesis (1, 28) "Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth" was very sacred to the Jews. This article is a chapter from Father van Breemen's forthcoming book, Called by Name, scheduled to be published by Dimension Books, Denville, N.J., in January, 1976. 839 a40 / Review for Religious, ~'olume 34, 1975/6 The natural longing for posterity found in all people, but especially in more primitive people, was deepened to a far greater degree for the Israelite by,the fact that the messiah had been promised as one of his race. To the Jews, therefore, the role of father and mother became sacred in a heightened ~ense. They had many sayings which illustrated their convictions in this matter; e.g., "Who does not marry is like a person who sheds blood," or ". is like a murderer!" A person who did not marry had the power of life within him but did not transmit it. Even as lateas prophetic times Jeremiah's celibacy was a shock. The most striking example of this sacredness of parenthood is found in the Book of Judges (11, 30-40), where we read the story of the daughter of Jephthah, who was to die for a mistaken and unlawful interpretation of a vow made by her father. She accepts her death submissively, but for the young girl, even worse than the death itself to which she is condemned is the fact that she must die without having been fruitful. "Grant me one request," she pleads, "Let me be free for two months. I shall go and wander in the mountains, and with my companions bewail by virginity." The whole longing of the Israelite for children is heard in that plea, as it is also in the words of Rachel: "Give me children or I shall die" (Gen 30, i). It is only in the New Testament that personal celibacy becomes a factor in human life. This is most probably connected with the incarnation and demonstrates that only an incarnate God can enable us to live as celibates, since it is the person of Jesus Christ who is at the heart.of celibacy. Virginity can be realized only because of Christ and with Him since it is only a con-tinuous focusing on Him .which enables us to persevere in purity of heart and flesh without becoming turned in on ourselves. Matthew lists three categories of eunuchs: There are eunuchs'born that way from their mother's womb, there are eunuchs made sot by men and there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can (19, 12). Because "eunuch" is such a horrible word, it is a very humbling experience to dwell upon the reality of this mystery. A eunuch is one who is incapable of human marriage. The very starkness of the phrase is in .one way the highlight of all considerations of the mystery of celibacy. "Eunuch" sounds so much like "freak," an incomplete person, one somehow lacking an essential that con-stitutes him human. It intensifies the harshness of the truth which the word "virgin" softens somewhat. On the surface, to "make myself unmarriageable" seems to imply that I should make myself as unattractive as possible so that no one will be interested even in looking at me. But that would be a shallow and exterior approaqh to being unmarriageable. A more valid understanding of the mystery of celibacy would be this: a woman, very much in love with her hus-band, would have eyes for no other man. In this sense, she is no longer marriageable for any other man. She is bound and committed to this one alone--freely, happily. The real mystery of consecrated celibacy lies. in the reason for it, expressed by Christ in the words "for the sake of the kingdom of Unmarriageable for God's Sake / 841 heaven." The kingdom is where God truly reigns,~where the will of God is fulfilled entirely; in other words, where God is fully God. In the history of salvation the kingdom of God so far has been fully realized only in Jesus Christ and in His mother Mary. In the person of Jesus, God's Will was totally accomplished; He is the kingdom of God enfleshed. From His time onward, celibacy for the kingdom of heaven is possible because now it can find inspira-tion and impetus from contemplation .of the kingdom as shaped in Jesus Christ. This is another way saying that Jesus Himself is at the heart of New Testamental celibacy. In its final analysis, celibacy means being captured by Christ. He is our life (Col 3, 4), fascinating us so completely that eventually we become un-marriageable, In its deepest sense, this is what celibacy means. It is not on the basis of pros and cons that one undertakes freely to live one's entire life in celibacy, nor is it just a state of being unmarried; rather, it is existentially be-ing incapable of marriage. When Jesus says there are eunuchs that have made themselves thus for the sake of the kingdom of heaven, He is pointing out that true celibacy is achieved not in a single leap, but by a process of slow growth. The Rule of Taiz6 says, "This work of Christ .in' you demands infinite patience." When a person takes first or even final vows, usually he is not yet unmarriageable. What he expresses in his vow is a two-fold covenant: he professes publicly for everyone to know that he recognizes as an ideal for himself the state of being unmarriageable for the sake of the kingdom of heaven; and he promises that he will put forth every effort to achieve this goal. He will not try to preserve himself marriageable as long as possible; on the contrary, he will try seriously, honestly to make himself unmarriageable. It is a long, .sometimes difficult road to become unmarriageable for the sake of the kingdom, It can take years, even decades, to. progress far on this narrow way of being fascinated by Jesus Christ, but by his vow the religious promises to advance as quickly as he can. He will not procrastinate~ This is his ideal, and he will run to meet it. Only when the point of really being unmarriageable has been reached has celibacy become fully mature. In a book written for priests, La Peur ou la Foi, Maurice Bellet has observed: Suppose one morning a priests reads in his newspaper that the Pope has changed his mind on the En-cyclical Sacerdotalis celibatus; from now on celibacy will be optional for priests. If that priest at this point has to make up his mind what he is going to do--make use of the new opening for marriage or remain celibate--th~ mere fact that he has to deliberate indicates that he is not yet existentially un-marriageable. Thus far, he is only juridically unmarriageable. Genuine celibacy goes so much deeper than a law because it is the interiorization of the goal of that law. The content of celibacy is eminently positive. It involves not just being un-married, but being fascinated by another--Christ--to such a degree that marriage is no longer possible. Celibacy does not mean that on~ has lost something, but rather that the celibate has found Someone. In essence, celibacy is love which can no longer wait; that is what makes it fruitful. There 842 / Review for Religious," Volume 34, 1975/6 is another dimension, at once ecclesial and eschatological, which enhances the value of celibacy and helps to prevent it from becoming myopic or introspec-tive. The celibate stands as an enduring witness that all Christians are pledged to a new order of grace, the fullness of which is that kingdom where no one will be given in marriage. He thus becomes by his celibacy a prophetic voice, recalling to all men that there are ultimate values not wholly attainable in our present life, and that it is only at our journey's end that we shall experience the fullness of God's giving. En route, there is only one thing necessary: God's love as revealed in Christ. Celibacy is a pilgrimage, a tremendous adventure. Along this way we meet magnificent people who have really become unmarriageable because of God. Unhappily, we also meet some who in their celibacy have not come to complete fulfillment, but have become bogged down along the road. Negative Celibacy There is a danger, of course, a risk involved in celibacy because there we lack the incentives provided by marriage and the care of a family. This means that celibacy can lead to a coldness of heart, a lack of affection, possibly even to laziness. The only radical remedy against this danger is to focus all our attention on the heart and inspiration of celibacy, for unless it is based on deep attraction for the person of Christ, celibacy can be irresponsible. In this lies its real challenge. It would be unrealistic to ignore the fact that the celibate life in-volves a genuine deprivation, something which we miss because we are celibates. 'Jesus answered the man who wanted to follow Him wherever He went: "Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head" (Lk 9, 58). So, no home of His own for the Son of Man, no home of his own for the celibate! One who follows Christ in the celibate why has no conjug~d ties--no husband or wife or children--and he m'isses the warmth these can" provide and the appeal they can make on him. This is the negative element in celibacy. There is also a positive element: viz., the fascination which Christ has for this person, the dedication to the apostolate or to contemplative life, the commitment to the kingdom of God, the being available for the people of God. In every celibate life boththe positive and the negative elements are always present, but in varying degrees, and in this lies the differing quality of celibacy. We call that a negative celibacy when the negative element predominates even though .there is, of course, some minor positiveelement present. The first im-pression this type of celibacy gives is a kind of frustration, .a deprivation; something is missing. We speak about a positive celibacy when--the negative element being present to a certain degree--the over-all impression is that of a wholesome life at once fulfilled and appealing. It is the celibacy in which negative elements prevail which presents the greatest difficulty, yet its problems are not ineradicable. There is always possi-ble a genuine conversion which will transmute the negative, making it genuinely positive. This conversion may require that the religious relinquish some things in or.der to find Christ and to contemplate Him more deeply so Unmarriageable for God's Sake / 043 that he may fill the emptiness. Perhaps there is .some foreign element blocking Christ's way in the life of negative celibacy, and until this is removed, the joy of.positive celibacy remains elusive. It is important that there be a genuine transformation of this negative celibacy into a positive one, a transformation that is truly worth the price it exacts. There is a second way to cope with negative celibacy: to seek dispensation from the vows and then to leave in order to search for happiness elsewhere. Apart from these two radical ways to overcome negative celibacy, there are also two forms of compromise open. In these methods of temporizing the celibate does not break his promise by giving up his vows, nor does he take the radical measure to make his celibacy really positive, but he seeks the in-between solutions of either sublimation or compensation. In sublimation the gap which is there and which is predominant is filled up with important human values. In themselves,~of course, these human values were not the reason why the religious chose celibacy, but having more or less failed in the option he did choose, he tries to make the best of the situation by sublimating it into human values which in themselves are good: work, relations with others, influential positions, broad culture, wide interests. The pain of not being able to'marry, of not being father or mother, is assuaged to some extent by these other values. People attempting this sublimation work very hard; they frequently carryoalmost a double load, and others may marvel at their efficiency and their energy. Outwardly, their life seems anything but a failure. And yet, deep down, :this celibacy is a failure because it was never in-tended for this excessive work-load. Or such a person may seek out many social contacts and relationships, many friends, Or it may be a devotion to study or a drive for power which preempts his attention. In all this, the reac-tion is a sublimation of tlae real core of celibacy. The other type of compromise for coping with negative celibacy without ~ibandoning it completely or transforming it into the positive is compensation, basically the same substitution of a lesser value for the real one, but here the human values used to fill the gap are no longer important ones, but rather of a lower species: insipid literature, curiosity, shallow hobbies. Neither of these ways out of negative celibacy--sublimation or compen-sation- is a sufficiently radical solution to the problem. The only effective way to combat negative celibacy is to grow into positive celibacy, that is to strengthen the positive element by means of a deeper, more intent focusing on the kingdom of heaven incarnate in Jesus. True Celibacy Since the deepest root and inspiration of true celibacy is the person of Christ, the people of God also play an important role in celibacy, and this in two ways: dedication to the kingdom of heaven always means dedication to the body of Christ as formed by the .people; and celibacy needs the support of the people of God and, even more pointedly, the support of the community. Celibacy is not constituted by turning away from the people; rather it is con- 844 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 stituted by the fact that through the celibate God turns Himself towards the people. A celibate is not divided, torn between Christ and the people. He lets his affection for the people coincide as completely as pos.~sible with Christ's love for them because he is taken up in this covenant relation between God and His people. Thus, a person who gives himself to Christ gives himself to the Christ who offered Himself for everybody; therefore, genuine dedication to Christ is always dedication to all whom we encounter. In fact, celibacy always implies ,the call to devote oneself to the~ neighbor with Christ's own love. If we really give ourselves to Christ, He will enlarge our hearts so that we can em-brace many and live truly fruitful lives. This dedication to Christ, however, is lived in the darkness of faith and the longing of hope, and often the fruitfulness of our lives is not apparent. We commit ourselvesto Christ, but we have never seen Him. We have to live with a certainty that has no basis in this visible world; there is no hand to hold. The man whodives thus is brave and mature: no one who has seen this or who has tried it hims~elf will deny that. A celibate life is a courageous life, one that has a kind of poverty about it because it offers nothing tangible to which I can cling. I can never grasp God. Sociologically, the poverty of celibacy is often looked upon as something to be pitied. This can be a grace to be.exploitedmone that the celibate would betray if he sought to create an impression of heroism before the people. Instead of trying to elevate celibacy to a pedestal, let him live it as one of the poor of Yahweh: You have seduced me, Yahweh, and 1 have let myself be' seduced: you have overpowered me: you were the stronger. I am a daily laughing-.stock, everybody's butt (Jer 20., 7). In some of our recent theologizing it is possible that we cross the narrow line between giving reasons for the hope that is within us and giving proof for the validity, of our way of life. Underlying this is the sometimes barely acknowledged desire to make ourselves important to .ourselveS. Nor should the celibate claim that his celibacy makes him completely available to the people, because such a claim would be too pretentious, giving him an honor which he does not deserve. Celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of heaven does not need anything outside itself to justify it. In itself it is a ser-vice, provided that it is lived to the full. The ultimate service I render is not that I have more time, that I am more free for people, but that I have pledged as my most constant ideal openness to God and the public testimony of the reality of God in my life. Celibacy is not to be admired by the people. All that is important is that I should.be captured by Christ and spread the news 0f His love. It is enough that religious be a "light to the world~" a beacon to travelers, not so much something for people to admire, as a light for them to see the direction in which they are to go. The very simplicity in which we live our celibacy can in itself be a sign which silently and humbly promotes the reality of God. This is the greatest service we can render to people by our celibacy--to show them that God is so real that He can truly fill a human heart and can Unmarriageable for God's Sake /,,845 bring a human life to fulfillment. Cardinal Suhard says: "To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda nor even in stirring up people, but in be-ing a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not. exist." There is a final way in which other people enter into our celibacy: for a truly celibate life we need the support of others. A cold community which affectively isolates a celibate can do great harm to the growth of positive celibacy in its members. We can never come to God completely by ourselves; we need the inspiration and affection of our fellowmen. It is not that we should claim that support or demand it; that is a most sure way of ruining it. But we should be able to hope for it. And we certainly should be poor and humble enough to be receptive to it when it is freely and purely given. This means that the people in the parish are partly responsible for the celibacy of their priests, and members of a religious community have mutually promised to be respon-sible for one another's celibacy. We are to be living signs of God's love. Celibacy would be a mere caricature of the gospel if it did not make visible God's love in the human community: "See how they love one another!" Commitment in a Changing World Sisters Margaret Farley and Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M. This article represents the proceedings of a seminar sponsored by the Sisters of Mercy on the topic indicated in the title. The proceedings were edited for publication by Sisters Margaret and Doris. Sister Doris resides at the Generalate of the Sisters of Mercy; I0000 Kentsdale Drive; P.O. Box 34446; West Bethesda, MD 20034. Introduction For many years now religious have been accustomed to hearing that one in three marriages ends in divorce, so that we are no longer startled by that bit of information. More recently, however, we have also observed that the number of dispensations from religious vows now exceeds the number of religious professions, and, in some regions, laicizations outnumber ordinations. Furthermore, in today's professional world several career changes are ex-pected in one professional lifetime. In such a context of flux and imper-manence, can a commitment made for a lifetime have any relevance or viability? It was to explore this question that the Sisters of Mercy undertook a study pr6ject on "permanency in commitment." Religious communities have not been exempt from the currents of change: the reluctance of younger members to commit themselves for life, the waning of vitality in the commit-ment of some older members, and the increased number of dispensations from religious vows all testify to a new interpretation of "permanence" as a value. It can certainly not be concluded that the challenge to permanency in cofia-mitment springs from a lack of generosity. Rather, in many cases it appears to be the result of new insights into the developmental character of the human person, into the dynamism of change in all areas of life, and into the inter-relationship of all aspects of human life, sothat change in one area necessitates an adjustment in another. Nor, on the other hand, can it be concluded that the situation has so changed in the last generation that a case can no longer be 846 Commitment in a Changing World made today for lifetime fidelity to commitments. The lives of untold thousands testify to commitments freely'entered into and fruitfully lived out in ever-unfolding contexts. The purpose of the study reported here, therefore, was to bring together the new insights of contemporary research and reflection and the lived reality of contemporary experience in order to illuminate various practical questions. The immediate context of the study was commitment in religious life, since the project was inaugurated by a religious community, but it was felt that the reflections would have a wider applicability. An investigation such as this must necessarily be multi-disciplinary: the sociologist, the psychologist, the philosopher, and the theologian have all reflected on human experience from a particular vantage point. Many fine ar-ticles have been published in recent years on the phenomenon of change and of non-commitment; but 'all of them necessarily examine the issue from the author's individual perspective. Accordingly, in the fall of 1973, the Sisters of Mercy invited a number of participants to engage in a dialogue which would attempt to bridge the gaps between various disciplines and to widen the con-text of contemporary discussion. The dialogue which ensued was not intended to come up. with "answers" nor to bear fruit in a consensus which would be unanimously endorsed only because it represented the least common denominator of the discussion, but rather to enrich the collective understand-ing of the participants and to furnish a context for future reflection and; perhaps, decision-making. The participants in the study all entered enthusiastically into the dialogue and contributed a rich variety of intellectual viewpoints and life experiences. A brief introduction to the. members of the study group follows: Sidney Callahan: columnist in the National Catholic Reporter; author; lecturer. Thomas Clarke, S.J.: theologian; author; staff person at the Gonzaga Center for Spirituality, Monroe, New York. Norita Cooney; R.S.M.: assistant professor of sociology, College of St. Mary's, Omaha, Nebraska; Director of the Office for Pastoral Development, Archdiocese of Omaha. Margaret, Farley, R.S:M.: associate professor of ethics, Yale Divinity School. Jean Flannelly, S.C.: clinical psychologist; instructor at Cathedral College, Douglaston, New York; active i9 personnel servi6es for the Sisters of Charity. Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M.: General Councilor of Sisters of Mercy; member of the Planning Committee for this study. John Haughey, S.J.: associate editor of ,,lmerica," adjunct professor of theology, Fordham University; author. ~ Theresa Kan¢, R.S.M.: Provincial Administrator ot: Sisters of Mercy, Province of New York; member of the Planning Committee for this study. Ellen Marie Keane, R.S.H.M.: .professor of philosophy at Marymount College, Tarrytown, New York. Mary Evangeline McSloy, R.S.M.t staff associate at St. Clotilde's parish in Chicago; formerly Executive Secretary of the Sister Formation Conference; member of the Planning Committee for this study. Miriam Sharpe, R.S.M.: Provincial Councilor of Sisters of Mercy, Province of Providence. Richard Westley: chairman of the Graduate Department of Philosophy, Loyola Univer-sity, Chicago. a4a / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 In the initial phase of this study project, the participants all undertook to read a selection of articles pertinent to the topic, as a kind of basic orientation to the: discussion. Therefore, the bibliographical references included should be seen as integral to the report, rather than as merely an appendage. In several of these articles can be found more extended statements of some of the par-ticipants~. Furthermore, anyone who reads these references will be led to other sources which will further enlarge the parameters of his or her reflection. In the second phase of the study, which provides the basis for this article, the participants gathered at Mount Mercy, Dobbs Ferry, New York, for a weekend which was described as a "think tank/retreat" experience--an oppor-tunity for free-flowing, uninterrupted dialogue on the topic of "permanency in commitment." The sessions were taped, and this report is an: attempt to distill from the hundreds of pages of transcript a sampling of the opinions expressed: The comments chosen have been rearranged and/or paraphrased .in order to allow~ for, a greater economy of words, but the dialogue format has been preserved in order to convey the liveliness and immediacy of the exchange. The reader,must also be aware that not everyone agreed with every opinion ex, pressed, nor did every comment represent a carefully-reasoned-out position. Rather; some remarks were more in the nature of trial balloons, insights and fragments which were intended to stimulate further responses from the :com-panions in the discussion. Early in the dialogue the participants recognized that there is a degree of artificiality about isolating the element of permanency from commitment. It was,generally felt that.the nature of commitment itself was at issue, ,and that permanency merely designated one quality or aspect of it. Thus it was felt tha~t if the nature of commitment itself was explored, the place of "permanency" in our understanding of it would be clarified. Accordingly, much of what follows is a shared reflection on commitment itself, with the element of temporality as a recurring motif."Commitment," as this was generally understood and used by the group, referred to an interpersonal promise, rather than to a pledge to some ideal or abstract entity. It was used to refer to promises made to God (for example, through baptism orthe profeSsion of Vows in religious, life) or to another person (as in marriage or family or friendship). A strict dichotomy was not intended here: thus, promises made to God have their human expres-sion and commitment to persons has a God-ward dimension. The term "com-mitment," therefore, was used both for the fundamental option and for other interpersonal involvements. When the focus is more specific, the statement is qualified in some way to indicate the proper context in which it should be read_. The following pages, l~hen, are the record of a dialogue, arranged in such a way as to encourage the reader to enter into the flow of ideas and to challenge and qualify and enlarge upon them. As every discussion does, this one" flowed freely and occasionally rambled down some p,retty tangential paths. But in retrospe6t the group's reflections seem to fall under four headings: the challenge to commitment; commitment and human life; commitment and time; and the institutionalization of commitment. Commitment in a Changing World ! !!49 I. "The Challenge to Commitment~ Commitment is challenged today ~'rom many sides and o~ man)~ grounds. The following are a sampling of some ~f the objections which the participants observed. It should be noted that these alleged difficulties spring from both theoretical and existential ~considerat'ions. Some comments in this section deal with the waning of commitments once made, rather than with the reluctance to make them. ~ - E~,en our getting together to talk about commitment might be a sign that the concept is threadbare! ' -What I bear people saying today is that to promise to love someone forever . is to lock,-one's feelings into rigidity or into duty, and thus to destroy them. They are willing to say something like, "I do love you, but it's irrelevant~to think about whether I'll love you tomorrow. In fact, ~I won't be able to love you as well now if you make me think about tomorrow. What moves me to say I love you today may not move me tomorrow." -That's right. Sartre is known as the philosopher of commitment, and his whole point is not that we shouldn't be committed, but that we should be °~uthentic in our commitment. We shouldn't be hypocritical~ that is, we shouldn't say, "I love you and I'll, love you forever," and then when we stop loving, continueoto pretend that we do. The thing to do is to say, "1 love you now, and I'll be faithful to that now and take each day as it comes.:' -It seems to me, though, that there are a lot of perversions in the name of authenticity and honesty! In any kind of relationship you're going to have to go through some very dry, dead times., there can be just total periods of deadness in every living°~relationship. ~ -What I think is interesting, then, is how long do you let something be? .How long can you hope that the deadness is going to revive? That's the key thing. Even though.spring follows winter, if you had a winter that went on for twen-ty years, I'd begin to wonder. The point is, how much suffering and how much deadness can there be in a living relationship? -Or,.what if the deadness turns into something really destructive? We're all familiar, too, with the joylessness of some "committed" peoplewthe teeth-gritted, fist-clenched determination to "stick it out!" -We need creative ways to deal with genuine ~nguish. creative ways to live ~ the winter of~ commitment as well as the summer. It is not necessarily hypocritical to~ sustain a commitment through anguish it may be an authentic experience. -Anguish in commitment is one thing, but what about sheer indifference? The absence of any feeling at all is much harder to interpret than suffering. At .least the latter is a sign of some kind of lifel- -I wonder if some of the situations you describe, of the feeling of deadness or the absence of a relationship that had been vital, may not be experiences of , what the mystics used to call the "dark night.'°' Underneath the present pain . is.the conviction that it's still all right, and that somehow or other I'm being 850 / Review for Religious, I"olume 34, 1975/6 weaned off of one level of relationship, and after I go through this thing, this inertia or deadness, it's going to come out all right, But part of the commit-ment is to kind of "hang in there" when the fruits of the love are no longer tangiblemprecisely out of love--and out of the realization that the relationship is going to be deeper at the end. But 9ne of the cultural obstruc-tions we face is that we want to live in a constant positive feeling, a kind of constant ecstacy, a resurrection experience without the crucifixion. But that is just not a realisti~ expectation, given the human condition. -Another reason that people are constantly disappointed is because of the way that they define love. If they define it in the context of growth, of somehow meeting each Other's needs for happiness, joy, and affection, then that's a very limited context. Because then, if their needs aren't fulfilled, they conclude that love is no longer there. And they go on to redefine the relationship: they say, "I was infatuated with that person," even though they had said previously that they loved him. And then they start hunting for another relationship that will fulfill their needs, so that somehow love is not defined in the context of "forever with one person," but in the context of moving from one to another to another and growing as they .move. -That's an illustration of the concept of "Protean man, popularized by Robert Lifton. In this theory, modern man is like the mythical god Proteus, ,, who constantly changed shapes in order to conceal his identity. In its modern application it means that man constantly changes from one commitment to another without any continuity: every relationship is necessarily short-lived and without effect on what followsl If that is an accurate description of man, the human person, then any discussion of permanency in commitment is irrelevant. The only thing Protean man is permanently committed to is non-commitment! -Such a person is a perpetual wanderer. Kierkegaard uses the symbol of a butterfly moving from one experience to another, never investing itself-~-just kind of tasting and moving on. -The Protean-man image does give a picture, though; of many people who ex-perience themselves as. fragmented, without a sufficiently.clear self-identity to make an enduring and deeply-felt commitment. To talk about commit-ment to people who are devoid of self-confidence or of a firm self-concept is to raise an issue which isn't even a real option for them. -There is a diversity in contemporary experience, though, and I wonder if people don't resist making commitments for very different reasons--but reasons which come together in ways that may be interesting, especially for psychologists. I would identify two challenges to commitment, that from idealism and that from despair. The first is the situation of those who enter-tain a larger hope for humanity than human commitments seem to provide. , They are saying that only commitment i~ holding them back from a grander human adventure; it's reducing their f~eedom. 'But on the other hand, and perhaps even hidden in the first position somehow, is the challenge to com-mitment from contemporary~despair, articulated perhaps in behaviorism. In Commitment in a Changing Worm / 851 this view all talk of commitment is naive: human persons are not really capable of that much. Or our aspirations are necessarily limited because of what we see in society and in the surrounding culture. -To add to what you've said, there is another kind of pseudo-idealism that is promulgated in all sorts of ways. For example, the daily "soap opera" presents a picture of romantic love in which the most important thing seems to be to respond to each new lover that comes along lest one limit one's fulfillment; It would be impossible not to be conditioned by a daily.diet of that sort of thing. It's really akin to the quest for personal fulfillment above all else that is presented in more sophisticated ways by many, forms of the media and popular entertainment. -To change the topic somewhat, the difficulty which some people experience with commitment in midlife may really be due to an over-commitment in youth. In the idealism of adolescehce some people seem to over-extend themselves and then have a kind of"energy crisis" later. But this is endemic to the human condition. When the slowdown occurs, you sort of re-negotiate your priorities and plan how you will use your remaining energies. -Yes, when people are leaving commitments, are they in fact withdrawing from over-commitments? Have they over-subscribed their selfhood in a com-mitment which is too tied-in with a cultural formulation? If they have over-invested their personhood in a fixed notion of what their commitment was supposed to be, according to .what their church taught them or their culture taught them or their parents taught them, then withdrawal from that com-mitment is no great loss. -The situation we~described earlier, of a lack of self-identity or self-worth, may also lead to over-commitment. In other words, if I find it all a shambles inside, I'll put on a religious habit or awedding ring and at least I'll know a little bit of who I am. Then I'll be discernible as Sister or Mrs. or Father. II. Commitment and Human Life Havihg dwelt at length on the difficulty of making commitments and of preserving their vitality, the discussion moved to a description of commitment itself and of the role it plays or can play in human life and development. This portion of the dialogue presupposed some basic assumptions about human nature and human capacities, assumptions which were merely hinted at without being explored. -I wonder if the whole question of whether or not commitment is possible, or wise, isn't a meaningless question.After all, people make commitments, and they want to make them. It may be a problem to know what to do about them when they are made, but in fact people do make them all the time. Even those who refuse in principle to make any commitments make a kind of commitment to non-commitment. -I doubt that it's as simple as that. There are persons who are in some sense non-committed. If I were to try to characterize such a person I think I would Review for Religious, l,'olume 34, 1975/6 say that he or she goes through the same stages that a committed person goes through, only the non-committed person goes through these stages with a series of people. The committed person.goes through these stages with one person. We could, of course, say that the non-committed person goes through a series of commitments, but that nonetheless he or she is not a "committed person." -You mean that in the stages of, say, "highs and lows" or~"light and darkness" the uncommitted person attempts to re-experience the highs with another .person? -Yes, something like that. This is what I would want to say is a picture of a non-committed person. -:But you draw your picture assuming that it is better to be committed than non-committed in this way, Isn't that precisely the question we're asking? What is wrong with moving from one commitment to another? Isn't it possi-ble that we are .even called from one commitment to another? Isn't holding on to only one commitment stifling or narrowing or--especially if the one commitment proves destructive--isn't it a mistake to hold to it simply for the sake of holding to it? -I thi'nk we're going to go a~'ound in circles on that question unless we try to see what there is about our experience of human life that makes us want to make a commitment, that makes us even need to make commitments, and that makes us think that there is something good about living a commitment out to the end. For example, doesn't it have something to do with our ex-perience of being fragmented, of wanting to love with our whole heart and mind and strength and knowing that we are not yet whole? People say today that commitment 'makes love into a duty, and thereby undermines it. I don't think that that is so~ There are loves that awaken in us, that makeus yearn to be fait~hful forever. We have an inkling that it won't just "happen" that we will be'faithful, it won't just "turn out" that we will be faithful without our making some choices about that. That's why we make promises to love. We want to give our word to the one we love. We want to gather up our whole life, our future, and place it all in affirmation 0fwhat we love. It's a question of whether our freedom is powerful enough to stretch into the future. I cer-tainly can't wind it up like a clock and then let it go! I can't just choose to love forever and then it's all settled: "I will love forever." So I commit myself, I give my pledge, my word, my promise. "To commit" means "to send with," to place somewhere, to entrust, to dwell. I give or send my word, and in so doing I entrust myself in a way to the other. Now my word calls to me from within the other. I have given the one I love a kind of claim over my love.,It is no longer a question of my simply being faithful to or consistent with, my own resolution. It is a question of my being faithful to the other in whom I dwell by my word. When my inclinations to love falter, there is the ongoing call to me from the other. -Could I add that this all makes sense because I continue to want to love, even though I. recognize my own weakness? It is not a matter of love now being Commitment in a Changing World / 053 reduced only to duty. I want to love, though the feelings and emotions that made loving easy at one time have receded for now. Kierkegaard says something like, "Duty then comes as an old friend," helping me to do what it is I most deeply want to do though cannot do without the call to faithfulness which is grounded in my having given my word. -I wonder if we could say that commitment is necessary in human lif~ not in spite of the fact that we are weak and fragmented and sinful, but because of that. If we were in paradise, commitment would be unnecessary. I remember in some recent discussions on commitment being struck by the image of ourselves as mountain climbers. Commitment is like the process of getting in your stake up higher so that you can pull yourself up. Ideally perhaps we could just walk up the mountain, but in reality we are not the kind of people who can walk up mountains. -That's an interesting idea, to think of commitment in relation to our sin-fulness. On the one hand, I think the desire to be whole in relation to the one we love--whether God or a human person--is a sign of what is good in human persons, a sign of what is true about our being, Commitment, then, if it helps to hold us in fidelity, in truthful love, serves to make us whole and to continue in relation to another. On the other hand, there is something about our desire to be whole or to be satisfied, or even to be fully alive, that is a sign of the evil, the woundedness, in us. For our desires are insatiable, and they can pull us or press us to fidelity or to fickleness. Because we are never satisfied, we can be drawn offcourse on the mountain. Without the stake, to use your image, we can try this way and that up the slope, but gradually simply lose our grip, neither dwelling happily.~ in .one place nor climbing to another. -We don't~have to talk about that just in terms of sin, although that's clearly part of our experience. Wherever there is any person with a fallible will, with shakeable freedom, it makes sense for that person to give her word. As you said a minute ago, that's yielding to someone a claim, and we do that in situations where we think we might need to be claimed, The whole point of giving one's word is to Strengthen the one who gives it, and to assure the one who receives it, and to have a way of integrating one's self and expressing one's self and one's love. When God gives His word to us, however, it's not because He has a shakeable will, but because we need assurance. It's very important for us to receive His word, to know the incredible truth that He yields to us a claim even on His love. -We know our own love as embattled, in a sense, and there are built into human life counterforces to love. We know our weakness, and we cannot guarantee our fidelity, but we want to try to build in supports against the tendency to infidelity which we recognize in ourselves. We go beyond where we are, perhaps, (like the mountain climber throwing his stake) and express and affirm what we want to be though we know we are not yet. Sometimes the fact that we give our word in the pres~ence of others also increases the chance that we will love against adversity. 864 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 -Yes, and the fear of death through commitment (since we may find that it sours or grows cold), is perhaps importantly counterbalanced by a recognition that there is another kind of death which non-commitment can entail. If there is a danger that passion (devotion, power of feeling) will die in the process of commitment, so al~o is there danger that without commitment passion will be wasted, diffused in a superficial search for an intimacy that cannot.always be had in commitment, but can never be had without it. -You make commitment sound so good that I worry about persons' wanting to make a commitment and sort of going around looking for something to commit themselves to. I agree with what you are saying, but it presupposes a kind of prior call to commitment. That is, we can't just decide we'regoing to commit ourselves and then pick something or someone to commit ourselves to. No, I think commitment at the level you are talking about makes sense only if we experience ourselves awakened in love for someone who seems worthy of our commitment, whose loveableness calls to our love and our freedom. -Yes, and as we said earlier, that is part of the problem of commitment now. Persons despair of their finding anything worthy of their commitment. Everything, in a way, depends on the revelation of persons to persons of their beauty and ioveableness. That's why it makes sense to me that everything, in a deeper way, depends on God's revelation of His beauty and loveableness. -And on His revelation that unconditional love and commitment and fidelity are possible because He loves us with a faithful and unconditional love. And perhaps on His revelation, too, that we are somehow enabled by His gift, His grace, to respond to Him and to one another with fidelity in unconditional love. -This is perhaps neither here nor the.re, but it just occurred to me that if we were todo a study of great committed people, we might find that at least one ingredient in their lives was an awareness of something beautiful, of someone beautiful. Maybe we would find that ingredient in tension with a kind of restlessness, too. There may be a combination of feeling very gifted es-pecially through love and of being haunted by a restlessness which has something to do with feeling capable of doing something because of being loved and because of loving. The participants recognized that a great deal more needs to be said about the nature of human persons, human love and commitment. Everyone wanted to underline the importance of some kind of call to commitment, of commit-ment as a response, but of commitment as a process, a way, rather than an achievement or an end. Concern was expressed to clarify commitment as not just a means to one's own wholeness, but as a means to be wholly for another. A need was expressed to address further the difficulties,in making a commit-ment and in keeping a commitment, and to address these in as concrete a way as possible. A caution was introduced because of the failure thus far to dis-tinguish different kinds and degrees of commitment. Distinctions were offered Commitment in a Changing World / 855 in terms of conditional and unconditional, temporary and permanent, relative and absolute, instrumental and core commitments. The task of personal dis-cernment as well as fidelity regarding priority of commitments was noted. At this point, however, the discussion shifted to more explicit questions of com-mitment and time, of commitment lived through a lifetime. III. Commitment and Time A recurring theme throughout the discussions was the experience of time in human commitments. Again and again participants struggled with both con-crete examples of change in commitment and love, and with theoretical inter-pretations of human time and duration. Even a theology of time seemed to become important in considering issues of Christian commitment. -We spoke in the beginning of the problem of time and change within com-mitment. If I change (which I inevitably do), how can I pledge myself to re-main the same in my love for another? How can I even say I will continue to perform the deeds of love? What if new circumstances make that.iml~ossible? Or what if the one I love changes? Am I ever justified in changing my com-mitment, even in breaking it? I for one would like to focus on just these questions for awhile. -Yes, what about the current theory that commitments made by me when I was young are no longer binding when I become mature? I'm not the same person I was, and so I can no longer be held to what an earlier self pledged. -Is our understanding of the personal self at stake here? If so, I hold for some kind of continuity of the self, some kind of continuing self-identity. I think I am the same person I was as a childmeven though I am obviously also profoundly different. I am, therefore, responsible in the present for com-mitments I made in the past. -Always responsible, do you think? Or even if always responsible, always still obligated? -I think we need to be more concrete here. Surely it can be the case that even .though I am in some sense the same person throughout my lifetime, yet I can undergo sufficient change (or the situation can change drastically) so that, for example,~ I am unable to complete my commitment without clear destructiveness to others or to myself to an extent that outweighs whatever is to be gained by completing it. Or surely I can change so that my way of ex-pressing my committed love needs to be modified. It doesn't seem to me the most important question is whether or not a change in commitment is ever justified. It obviously can be justified if, for example, it becomes impossible to keep a commitment, or if a prior commitment conflicts with keeping this commitment, or if this commitment deepens into a commitment which fulfills it but is beyond ~. ,, -I agree with you, but you realize you are on what ethicists might call a slippery slope. While it is true that changes in commitment can be called for, we are also inclined to do a lot of rationalizing in that regard. I'm not 856 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 suggesting we should keep all commitments just because of fear of that. I'm only adding a note of caution. -We obviously can't delineate here exact descriptions of justified commitment-changes or unjustified commitment-changes. In fact, that might distort the whole question. It is important for us, though, to affirm that a person can in good faith discern a call to change.commitment. That change can be accounted for in terms of fidelity, not infidelity~ There is a kind of fundamental obligation which each person has to discern in con-science what is the way of fidelity. And that is never an easy task. On the other hand, it is important for us to affirm that every difficulty experienced in commitment (even terrible suffering at times) does not signify either a need for change or a justification of change. -Before we go further into the question of difficulties in keeping com-mitments, could we say something more about the beginnings of com-mitment? When, for example, do we know that we are capable of making profound commitments? Whether commitments remain binding, and whether they prove to be fruitful, depends to a great extent on our capacity for making them wisely and well in the first place. -I' don't think we always kno~ when a commitment actually begins. Its begin-ning doesn't always coincide with an explicit making of a promise or a vow. Sometimes we experience commitment as something that has taken place in us before we become aware of it at a conscious level. I may one day discover, for example (perhaps on a day when I see you in great need of my help), that indeed I have given you my heart in friendship; and I can now choose to ratify the commitment I find I have already made. -We certainly would want to note that commitment does not always begin with its external legal or ceremonial declaration; The latter is surely impor-tant, but we all know of commitments made long before their public celebra-tion and of commitments which are finally made long after their public form has been sealed. -If we look at the kind of maturity needed to make lifelong commitments, it is clear that certain healthy psychological levels of maturity are neededmand perhaps even faith levels of maturity. Yet I can't help resisting some of the present insistence on psychological, health as a basis for all commitment. While affirming it, I want to add that if the role of commitment is as we suggested earlier--namely, to help us to become whole in relation to another--then it cannot have full maturity or wholeness as its prerequisite. If I find commitment necessary for maturation (as does Eric Erikson, for example, in his presentation of the stages of human development), then it is clear that it cannot wait upon full maturity for its making. -That point must be made (with your same caution) in regard to Christian commitment as well. It probably bears pondering that Jesus declared, "I am not called to come to the healthy, but to those who are sick." And then there is Paul's reminder, "Who of you are well-born?" Though again I say this with the usual qualificati0.ns. Commitment in a Changing World / 857 -We might put ~the question this way: What kind of person makes a com-mitment? A strong person or a weak person? A person who is integrated or a person who is aware of fragmentation? I suspect our answer must grasp both alternatives. A person who makes a commitment wisely and well is one who is at home with himself or herself, who experiences' self-worth, etc. But perhaps also such a person experiences some uneasiness, some distress, some fragmentation. This relates to what we said before of the yearning of love to become whole, to deal with fragmentation. ,~ -We keep saying that commitment is a way of becoming whole, a way of growing in love. Clearly something more has to be seen in that regard, because we certainly have not in the past emphasized this aspect of commit-ment. The language of "states" of life, for example, was almost in opposi-tion to it. Now, it seems to me, we are trying to acknowledge that commit-ment (for example, in religious lifeor in marriage) does not mean that a love is once and for all sealed in union with the one loved. -Let me say something.here. I know people who think their first marriage is a 'trial run,' and then they enter a second and a third. Finally it dawns on them that it is marriage that is the problem; it's not the other person that's the problem. When I say marriage is the problem I don't mean here what some would mean--namely, that marriage undermines relationships, and'so forth. No, I mean that marriage is the way to relation, but if it isn't understood that way; it is no wonder that it doesn't work for many. If.t can put it this way, there is in marriage what many of you would understand as a kind of novitiate in selflessness. But that's only the beginning. -Yes, that's something of what I'm trying to say. Commitment is not the end of a story, but in a very real way the beginning (or at least an extremely im-portant point of impetus and direction along the way), We make com-mitments so that we may learn to love, grow in"love,,.There may be nothing more beautiful in all creation than a courageous love, but it is not born whole. The vows which have been characteristic of religious life or marriage, then, are ways of coming to love, means.for expanding one's mind and heart in order to grow into a great and wise love:. -But what assures that commitment will indeed lead that way? We simply must not pass over toolightly the very real problems that We saw earlier and that are being raised with sharpness and great credibility today. What if love finally is always unfaithful? What if the object of love finally always proves disappointing? What if commitment sours at least as often as it liberates? What if we who are created as always changing truly cannot bear the non-changing of commitment? -Wait a minute. Let me just say something about your last question. I think it is a pure and simple myth to say that our need for change can only be answered on a model of changing from one commitment to another (or remaining uncommitted, as I guess we described it before). In fact,.the ex-ample of this that we have had--Lifton's Protean mannis a perfect example of an experience of not changing. Let me explain what I mean. Protean man, 1~58 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 ~presumably, finds in each commitment he makes an inevitable ceiling--on his desires, his interest, his belief. Every time he engages himself in some project or in some love he comes to an end in an experience of inertia, dis-illusionment, lack of life. This proves intolerable--for it is indeed an ex-perience of the stopping of process and change in his life. To be free of this, he moves to yet another project or person. But notice that through this mov-ing from one thing to another he finally ends in cynicism, sadness, and a sense of the absurd. That hardly sounds like an overall experience of a living process! The truth is that within himself there is no process. Moving fran-tically from one thing to an6ther looks like life-process, but it never touches him inwardly; within himself he does not change. Nothing really is happen-ing inside. The possibility of something really new coming intoobeing, of real change in the heart of the self, may only occur in the process which commit-ment entails. Does that make any sense? -It may make more sense if you can say something more positive about what this process within commitment is. -Maybe we have to say something about the fabric of time which in a way forms the inner structure of commitment. In a way commitment," as everyone asserts, transcends time. It does have an element of the non-temporal-- or the eternal, if you will, or the non-changing (if that category is important to you).This is especially clear in a permanent commitment. -Isn't that what we mean when we say "forever?" We intend it as a way of transcending time rather than as a time statement~ We're saying, it seems to me, that "I will not let the 'conditions of time or the circumstances at the level of duration erode that which I now say about myself to you," -Yes, but let me quickly add that there is also in commitment, even and perhaps especially in permanent commitment, an element that is wholly tem-poral- that is, a reality that is stretched out and changing in time. Now this is to say that something is on the one hand. eternal about commitment, and something is on the other hand changing. Or better, something about the whole reality of the commitment radically changes. It might help to talk about it in terms of stepping into a relationship with the other. When I make a commitment to another person, I step into a new relationship with him or her. This relati6nship is qualified radically as "forever." I have given my word, and thus myself, in a way that is forever. Yet I, on my sideof the rela-tion, will change, and the one who rec(ives my word, on the other side of the relation, will also change through time. This means that the relation, too, will change: It does not, however, change into non-relation. It is qualified in new ways--for example, by a growth in intimacy. Certain aspects of the relation may emerge and others recede. One might almost draw an analogy between virtue in an individual person and virtue in a relationship. In both realities there is development, and we need a language to describe the growth of thee reality of relation as well as the growth of the reality of an individual person. Perhaps the virtue of a relationship is intimacy. -That makes a lot of sense. Your picture of commitment gets to the on- Commitment in a Changing World / 859 tological. I am now in relation to someone. I could never go back to the self that I was before the commitment except by saying that I now formally step out of the realm of being which has been created by the commitment. Even then I do not go back to that self, for I am forever in some way qualified by having made the commitment. It is my self that really changes, yet remains myself. ~ -Yes. Could I try to say it again? When I make a commitment a new reality begins--the reality of relation to another. Then it is this relation that remains, but moves through time, changing, hopefully growing. It is not a reality separate from myself, nor an appendage to myself. It is myself in relation. As it grows, so do I become new, again and again, yet more fully and wholly what ,I already, am. -Could we add that aspects of growth and change include dimensions of the total personality--imagination, memory, feeling? -Now we are in a position to look at the negatives in commitment. If it in-volves life-process, then the diminishments experienced within it must have the possibility of being taken up into that process. We surely experience, for example, our commitments being choked of their life, or distracted from their life, or overwhelmed in some way. W( know what it means to have barriers grow up in the commitment-relation. In one sense, we must learn a kind of creativity in the liying out of commitment. If it is a way, then we must learn what it means to go along that way. So we must learn creative ways to deal with what chokes us, what irritates us, what renders us helpless. Too little time and attention have been given to learning such things. Perhaps this is because we did not see clearly enough that commitment is a way that must be gone along. -There is something else that arises in the process of commitment, and which is experienced as negative. I've been thinking a long time about this because I've watched so many people go through it. I've experienced it myself in small ways, too, and I think there are clues to be gotten which will tell us how to deal with it. I'm not talking about the exlSerie.nce of being angered or frustrated, and so forth. The only way I can describe it is in terms of being "unhitched" from commitment. It's like driving along in a cart with a horse drawing it, and then the hors~ becomes loose, unhitched, and off it goes on its glorious way, leaving you sitt~ing there. It's like the world going on, or the community going on, and you are left simply sitting there. But in this in-stance it is your life that is somehow sepa.r_ated from you. Perhaps it could also be described as an experience of a.vacuum. Nothing is happening, nothing changes. The lid is on the future, so that it closes in on you. The past is somehow cut off from you and left behind only to.be stared at from a dis-tance. All sense of really living is gone. You become an observer of your life, only able to watch yourself doing what you.do, not able to enter into your own life as a participant. As soon as we back off and only watch ourselves living our lives, it is all over, .unless we discover how to enter into it again. In a sense what must be done is more than "renewing commitment." It is rather 860 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 like jumping out of the cart and running after the horse. All 1 can do is use these figures of speech to describe this experience. It is the experience I have '-heard countless persons describe as "something missing." There must be ways to redeem even such time, to make it fruitful in the life-process which is our commitment-relation. Once again, however, we have not yet done much to help one another to find such ways. -Is.all of this to say that it is not possible to truly keep a commitment (if it is a commitment to love) unless we learn the ways of nurturing its life, of freeing our own life and love within and through it? Commitment is a way to love and freedom, but the present task is to chart more clearly the yet shadowed way which it is. I suppose we have said from the beginning in our discussions together that the way is constituted somehow by both light and darkness. It is, as others have said, the darkness which raises the question of fidelity--fidelity which is not just gritting one's teeth and remaining con-stant, but which continues to believe in the light once seen andto watch and to wait and in some sense to serve that light even though we are not at times ourselves able to see it. Some discussion ensued as to how commitment may have the power to un-leash in us the springs of love and action. Attention was given to the role of forgiveness in the life-process of commitment. Finally, however, the .par-ticipants turned to a set of questions which had arisen from time to time throughout the sessions. These questions centered on communal dimensions of commitment, the implications of commitment for society at large, and the ex-istential, concrete framework for commitment. IV. The Institutionalization of Commitment When a commitment is made, it takes life in space and time, a given historical setting and era, within a framework provided by the free decision of the participants, community relationships, society and culture at large. Therefore, when we talk about a commitment to love God or another person, we have to deal with certain structures to which we commit ourselves as well. In this portion of their discussion the participants considered specific, issues regarding membership requirements for religious communities, structural changes and their implications for a community's understanding of its bwn commitment, and so forth. This led to a consideration of underlying questions of priority in commitments, implementation of commitments, and Church regulation of religious life and of marriage. A continuing focus was on the in-carnati0nal dimension of commitment. -A lot of what we,have said so.far applies most clearly to a commitment to love--to love God and to love another person or persons. But there is a whole area which"is just as problematic today as the fundamental commit-ment to love. That's the area of the structures we commit ourselves to--the structures which are, in a w.ay, part and parcel of our commitment to love because they are the concrete forms of living and acting that we commit Commitment in a Changing World ourselves to as an expression of love and as a means to love. Now, for exam-ple, I know many young religious today who have no problem with knowing themselves called to and responding in an unconditional commitment to God. But they have a lot of problems with the structures they find that com-mitment tied to in, for example, a given religious community. I'm just think-ing of some that I have lived with. They understand their permanent com- ~.mitment very differently from the way I understood it (and perhaps the way I understand it now). They see that the only absolute commitment they make is to God, and if they perceive that God calls them beyond their present religious community, then they must leave it (though I'm not saying that they're planning on doing that--only that it remains open as a possibility). -Well, in a sense there can be no denying the validity of that view. It is only God who can call us to absolute love and commitment. All other com-mitments are (or at least in a Christian view should be) relative to a commit-ment to God. The .problem is in discerning what "relative" means here. It means, of course, "related to." It means that the whole raison d'etre for them is their prior commitment to God. But it can also mean that the com-mitment'to God is in some way essentially expressed in these other com-mitments. It surely means, when we are talking about commitment to love other persons, that those commitments (at least to love, if not to live in cer-tain patterns of life expressive of that love) are forever--just as our commit-ment for God is forever. -There are many Sides to this question, and they are all in some sense perplex-ing. We can't on the one hand keep moving through life saying our commit-ment is to God and never really give ourselves to anyone else or never really yield our love for God to .concrete enduring patterns of life which express that love. On the other hand, our commitment to God cannot reify itself in a narroffly defined, immediate context which we refuse to see can and sometimes must be modified in order to be faithful to God. -The question is perplexing in the concrete, but at least what we have said thus far about priority of commitments, the relation of one commitment to another, etc., seems fairly clear to me in theory. -But concretely, we have to take account of the testimony of persons who are anguished now in their discernment of what is fidelity and what is infidelity. We mentioned those who perceive their call from God in a way that makes them necessarily chafe against certain patterns of life and activity which their community may still think are important. But there are also persons who feel that the religious community to Which they committed themselves has changed so much that they can no longer in conscience remain faithful within it. And then there is the problem of the dissonance not only between individual and community but between community and Church. We all know of the tension often felt now by communities within the Church who wish to see their fidelity to God in terms of fidelity to the Church, and yet who find a strange disparity at times between the two. If we didn't take any of these~ seriously--if tlie pattern of our commitments was not seen by us as a62 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/6 im, portantly interwoven--we could opt for whatever we wanted at any time. But we obviously, both in marriage and in religious life, are offered the task by the Spirit today of finding the ways of fidelity within a whole pattern of relationships, ~all of which are held in our relation to,God. -I want to say that this kind of tension, even the experience of being "regulated," can work both ways. If everybody got up every morning and defined marriage or religious life in their own way, there would be chaos. Or more importantly, there would be total isolation. We can neither ignore our tradition, our interrelationships, our call, ultimately, to communion with all persons, nor distort it by mindless submission to what was intended as a point of interpersonal discernment and response. -You know, it might help to look at this for a moment as if we were discern-ing for ourselves, within the Church, what God is calling us to. After all, there is a sense in which we can do what we want within the Church. Groups of persons can discern themselves called in many different ways, and as long as these ways are authentic ways of living the Christian life they are free to embrace them, and to embrace them communally. The issue of canonical recognition is not necessarily a central issue--certainly not for everyone in the Church. If I want to live in poverty or chastity or obedience for three years and three years only, I can do it, and the Church doesn't say aye or nay. If I want to live celibacy but not poverty (in the usual sense), I can do it, and again the Church will neither command me nor forbid me. But it is ex-tremely important, it seems to me, to add that that does not rule out the possibility that some persons within the Church (myself included) will still want to gather up their whole future in a permanent commitment, and to make that commitment in terms of a life of poverty and celibacy and obedience within community. It is important that those who are called to that continue to find a way to celebrate it within the Church. Other forms of life may also need to be celebrated within the Church, but to be open to new ways need not (in fact, surely should not) mean to close off present ways. -Yes, I can affirm that and add that, within this context, there still remain practical decisions for each community of persons such as you describe. For example, the ever recurring questions of whether a community should have associate members or temporary members or married members are questions that simply involve practical decisions (based on discernment in prayer, of course) for a community. -You mean that a community, for example, must discern for itself in terms of its understanding of its call from God and the individual ways in which its members are called to participate in that communal call--must discern whether it is to have an associate membership or a third order or some other departure from present practice? -Yes, why not? There is plenty of precedent for that kind of thing, and room for many variations on a theme. Different cultural contexts, different com-munal ministries, and many other factors will all make a difference in a corn, munity's discernment of such things. There is no one law written in heaven Commitment in a Changing Worm / 863 about them to which all must conform. But it is important that a community take seriously a truly communal discernment and decision in this regard. Or even if a community postpones decisions on some of these kinds of questions, it is important for it to know why it postpones them. -If we agree that structures must follow on life experience, perhaps this is the time in history to reflect on the experience we now have of members who would prefer a status other than that conferred by "final vows"; that is, they want to renew their vows every three years or so in an "ongoing com-mitment." If we would re-structure our communities to include a core group and a transient group, we would eliminate some of the necessity for dispen-sations with their negative connotations. Maybe this is the Spirit directing these young people and somehow we as a church have to respond to them. -I think I agree in principle, but somehow I'm wondering wherewe are as a "core group" right now. There is the real question of where we are right now: is there strength at the center, so that the core could truly enliven the whole structure? I mean I can only think of a half dozen people that I really think are the core. By the core group I do not mean people who are going to stay in religious life; I am talking about those who are alive enough to share life in some way. This is not a pessimistic view, it's just saying that right now we are in a phase where it may be necessary to get ourselves together first. On the other hand, maybe extending membership to.associates may be a way of getting ourselves together. -I worry, though, about 'the traditional problems of first and second class citizens. You have to have a tremendous inner peace and sense of who you are and what you are about to avoid those kinds of difficulties. -As a matter of fact, it has been a policy in our religious community since 1971 thatwe would permit women who wished to do so to associate themselves with us in a kind of informal membership. The thought was that if we permitted this to develop spontaneously :for a few years, we would ac-cumulate enough data to enable us to structure something which would be mutually supportive and realistic. However, after more than two years we did a survey and found out that the total number of such applicants was almost zero. So should we go out and recruit them? How do you strike a middle ground between permitting something to emerge and institutionaliz-ing it prematurely? -One way traditionally has b~en to find ways to share the religious com-munity's gifts, to share life with others through retreats, courses in 'spiriiuality, days of prayer, collaboration in ministry, etc. In this way sodalities and third orders have originated, informally at first, and then more formally. The spirit of the religious community and its characteristic spirituality is shared with a larger circle of people who may then desire a kind of membership or more formal association. -You mentioned the characteristic spirituality of a religious community . There is some talk today about the blurring of distinctions between various communities and between celibates and non-celibates, clerics and non- 064 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 clerics, so that conceivably institutional distinctions could be wiped out. On the one hand, the elimination or relativization of distinctions emphasizes the basic Unity of Christians; on the other hand, the individual groups emphasize the rich diversity of gifts and graces. I think this is a situation ~where we should proceed somewhat pragmatically, not rushing to reduceall religious communities to one group, but rather asking ourselves what is congruous .with the unity and diversity of the gospel. Religious communities are distinct in this, at least, that their members have freely joined them, rather than be-ing born into them, and this deliberate choice is a kind of witness. -Yes~, we have to ask ourselves, what do we experience ourselves being called to, individually and as a community? What we designate as the "essentials" and the "accidentals" of our commitment should be a reflection of that call. And the fact that religious life was institutionalized in the form of certain es-sentials and accidentals tells us that, at least in the past and apparently to some extent today, people feel themselves called in terms of certain specific graces; for example, they are called to a life of celibacy or to evangelical poverty or to,live in community in Christ's name. -Another aspect of the institutionalization of commitments and their public expression is its value to society itself. We sense that somehow there is some damage to the objective order when a commitment is betrayed. Somehow . the fabric of s~ociety, of the whole body--be it the body politic or the Body of Christ--is strengthened or weakened by our fidelity to, or our betrayal of, commitment. The climate of mutual trust is strengthened or weakened. -Many people find their ability to remain faithful enhanced or threatened by the presence or absence of community support. Ongoing commitment in-volves continuous re-election, re-commitment, re-selection, and all of those . with whom and to whom we have committed ourselves figure in this process. Maybe the parable of the seed falling on good ground and on rocky ground, and so forth, is helpful here. For example, it seems to me not impossible that oa community could be bad ground. It could be the cause of the death of someone's commitment within him; if the community demanded too much from him or distracted him in some way, it could choke the commitment. Or the community COuld be just a dry wasteland. ~On the positive side, the community could be very fertile .soil indeed. If I were to describe the kind of support that I would expect or appreciate on a day-to-day level, I wouldn't look for high points such as the discussion we've been having these days. What~ I would look for in the members of my com-munity would be a kind of resonance, a sense that they were in sympathy with what I was doing, and supported, the .efforts I was ~making. I want to share a, common understanding with the members of my community about such things as who we are as a community, and why we are together, even though it isn't necessary to articulate it very .often. -But besides furnishing one another that basic affirmation, there also has to be an openness to the new, a willingness to challenge one another to reach for greater heights of generosity. I guess religious have to call one another to Commitment in a Changing World faith, as well as calling other members of the Christian community. -Perhaps our concept of ministry has to be re-thought or re-integrated into the Christian synthesis in terms of a call to faith. We have described commit-ment in terms of "radicality" and the committed person in terms of "marginality" vis-a-vis certain cultural norms which are often uncritically accepteduthese terms suggest a kind of presence, a~ very challenging and a personal presence. It isn't so much a question of the apostolate being done, but of understanding and living fully the kind of lives we are called, to and sharing that. Flowing out of that will be specific kinds of service: the healing ministry, teaching, or whatever. -Yes, there is a correlation between the diversity of commitment and diversity in ministry. Sometimes the stance of love is to stand alone, to be in protest; sometimes the stance is to .be a mediator, or to be co-opted in some way. Even while we're allowing for individual insights and calls within Ch°ristian service, there's such a thing as the total stance of the community. Sotit still seems important to me that we have the reference points of some specifications of commitment. Whatever the stance is, whatever it is that we're about, however we try to blend our lives together, it has something to do with being poor, something to do with celibate fLiendship, something to do with abandoning ourselves in union with the obedience of Jesus Christ which .at least implies listening to something beyond ourselves. Further reflections of the participants concerned the relationship of com-mitment and ministry and the necessity of a genuine interiority in apostolic service. Throughout the discussion there was a sense that the multitude of commitments which an individual, makes must be integrated in their inward reality and their outward expression. Toward a Conclusion As with every good discussion, the participants ended with a touch of reluc-tance: there was a sense of incompleteness, a desire to explore further paths only noted in passing, to qualify assertions that were perhaps too confident or too hesitant, and to raise new questions which might expand, the, horizons of understanding. Hence the discussion eludes neat summarization and does not provide ready solutions or conclusions. Some.threads did recur again and again, however, and it may be helpful to recall them here. First of all, promising is a persistent phenomenon. Despite all of the dif-ficulties attendant on making a commitment today and of living it out faithfully in an ever-changing context, people are still making them. Hence, the need to commit oneself to another seems to spring from some deep human need and instinct, something deeper than a merely cultural basis would ex-plain. Moreover, the participants in this discussion shared among themselves a strong "commitment to commitment": while they were not unmindful of the risks and hazards of commitment, they all affirmed its possibility and value in human life. Furthermore, they affirmed that interpersonal commitment must a66 / Review for. Religious, !/olume 34, 1975/6 be understood as the beginning of a relationship, a relationship that can be ex-pected to unfold gradually, in response to new circumstances. Such an evolv-ing relationship may well include periods of darkness and dryness which must be integrated into the whole dynamism of growth. As commitments move through time, there are tensions inherent in their continued existence, tensions between continuity and change, fragmentation and unity, spontaneity and pattern, contract and gift. In the face of our~per-sonai experience of fragmentation and conflict, we experience simultaneously the inability and the need to pledge our word. The framework which society and community furnish for our commitments may be experienced at one time as supportive and at another as restrictive. We may feel drawn by an invitation or bound by a legal agreement. Furthermore, our ability to commit ourselves deeply and without reserve is intimately linked to our own sense of self-identity and self-worth. The context of commitment is also integral to its nature: our promises must be incarnated in space and time. While structures follow life, they can also be supportive of life. That is, commitments should only~be formalized or institutionalized if they are genuine and viable, but then the framework which community ~and society provide must support them. Although structures are relative, the process of changing them should be a thoughtful and prayerful one. There is no virtue in either changing structures or in leaving them un-changed; what is important is their congruity to gospel, to the needs of our day, and to our fallible human resources. Where do we go from here?'The really basic questions~in life have a way of reasserting themselves again and again under new guises, and requiring fresh attention. Perhaps this is because the only entirely satisfactory response to such life-questions is the personal one, made in the context of one,s own relationships of family, community, and society, Each of us must question the possibility and value of a lifetime commitment in his or her own iife~: can I live a fully human and a fully Christiah life without it? BIBLIOGRAPHY Beha, Marie, O.S.C. "Paradoxes of Commitment," Sisters Today, 46 (August-September, 1974), ¯pp. I-9. Burrell, David, C.S.C. "A Fresh Look at 'Perpetual Commitment,' "Sisters Today, 41 (April, 1970), pp. 457-461. ~ Clarke, Thomas E., S.J. "Jesuit Commitment--Fraternal Covenant?" Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, II1 (June, 1971),'pp. 70-102. ~. "The Crisis of Permanent Consecration," Sisters Today, 41 (August-September, 1969), pp. 1-15. __. New Pentecost or New Passion? The Direction of Religious Life Today. New York: Paulist Press, 1973. Coville, Walter J. "The Psychological Development of Tentative Commitment to the Priesthood and the Religious'~ Life," Seminary Department Relevant Report. National Catholic Educational Association (June, 1972). Commitment in ,a Changing World / 867 Farley, Margaret A., R.S.M. A Study in the Ethics of Commitment within the Context of Theories of Human Love and Temporality. Unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation. Yale Univer-sity, 1973. Haughey, John C., S.J: "Another Perspective on Religious Commitment," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, 111 (June, 1971), pp. 103-119: Keniston, Kenneth. The Uncommitted. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1960. Lifton, Robert Jay. "Protean Man." The Religious Situation 1969. Edited by Donald R. Cutler. Boston: Beacon Press, 1969. Marcel, Gabriel. Creative Fidelity. New York: Farrar, Straus, & Giroux, 1964. __. Being and Having, New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1965. Murphyr David M., ed. Seminary Newsletter, Supplement No. 3. National Catholic Educational Association (November, 1973). Orsy, Ladislas M., S.J. "Religious Vocation: Permanent or Temporary?" Sisters Today, 40 (February, 1969), pp. 347-349. Toffler, Alvin. Future Shock. New York: Random House, 1970. Van Kaam, Adrian, C.S.Sp. "'Life of the Vows: Commitment to a Lasting Life Style." Envoy, V (September, 1968), pp. 125-131. Westley, Richard J. "Fidelity and the Self," Sisters Today, 45 (April, 1973), pp: 482-489. __. "On Permanent Commitment," Ame~'ica (May 24, 1969). __. "The Will to Promise," Humanitas, VIII (February, 1972), p. 9-20. (N.B.: This entire issue of Humanitas is devoted to articles on "Commitment and Human Development.") Space Fora Rose: Spiritual Ecology Sister Mary Seraphim, P.C.P.A. Sister Mary Seraphim is a Poor Clare of Perpetual Adoration and resides in the Sancta Clara Monastery; 4200 Market Ave., N.; Canton, OH 44714. "Time, then, is but the space for a rose to open to fullness." What is this element, time, which surrounds, sustains, measures and secures our existence? We cannot escape it under pain of death but we can never possess it securely. Money does not buy it nor can poverty prevent it. We love it but fume against its restraints. We are meant to transcend it but can only do so by fully integra.ting ourselves into it. Time is our most basic need if we are to be. We are born into time, :grow in its unfolding moments, die When our allotted span has been consumed. It is such a pervasive "given" that we take it for granted. God designed time as the cradle and matrix for His marvelously conceived creature: man. God does not need time to exist but He willed that humankind should need it. For man to exist as God dreamed him to be, he had to have time. There was a moment when he began to be--but he was not com-plete in that first moment. H.appily God does not expect him to be. For man is intended to delight God and His angels by coming to fullness in successive stages. Step by ~tep, we are to grow and develop. We could not do this without time. We could do it without clocks, perhaps, but not without the successive stages of change which time is. Kicking Against the Crib Somehow, somewhere, many of us have begun to harbor a rebellion against time, At least, I have, I began to see time as an uncontrollable tyrant which ruled me, drove me or caged me. I rebelled against it but, of course, quite uselessly. I could neither speed it up nor slow it down. Like a child in 868 Space for a Rose / a69 frustrated rage, I kicked against the very thing which should have been my security and source of hope. I failed to see time for what it really is: the shelter my Father has provided for me until I can~bear exposure to eternity. A sister-psychologist once gave a descriptive definition of time as that which allows things to happen bit by bit, Unless there existed the restraining and apportioning hand of time, everything would happen all at once.t I have enough difficulty trying to cope with troubles one by one. To have to face them all at one time? No thank you! Stop .Kicking and Look Gradually I began to wonder if it would be good to take a long and thoughtful look at this phenomenon known as time. Since it pervades my whole life as necessarily as the air I 'breathe, it seemed to merit some con-sideration. "I'll do it as soon as I have time," I decided. But come to think of it, time, like the poor, we always have with us! It was not that I had no time but that I was unwilling to use the time I had for that purpose. Revelation the first; I always have time. What am I doing with it? When I began to consider time,' I grew to be immensely grateful to my Father for this wondrous girl, Without it, I could not be me for I am a person who is always in the process of becoming. Like a rose~ I~need space to unfold; to happen. Fullness of being is not mine all at once or as asure possession. It is a gift Iam trying to grow into with each new second that is granted to me. Life is being continually re-given. And that, not from a distant heaven but by the Spirit of the Lord hovering, brooding over me. Indeed~ with each new breath I draw, this gift rises up from a wellspring inside me. It is the Spirit who breathes in me, who continues to hold me in being. And I take all this for granted ! What if all my being were given to me at once? Like the angels. Whatever I did I would do with my whole self--but only once. There would be no second doing, no future in which to try again, and, hopefully, do better: There would not be any hope! Instead my Father has allowed that I come to be bit by bit. I grow slow!y to maturity, making mistakes but learning as I go along.All the while I am sheltered, protected by the framework of time which keeps things~from closing in on me. Events happen at a pace and rhythm I am familiar with. Even when things seem to be coming at me too fast, I am called:to meet them only mo- ~ment by moment. It is when I .misuse my ability to mentally transcend time that I get into difficulties, Here and Only Now When I begin to picture future events (usually only possible ones) in the present mo.ment, I begin to get panicky. But if I am honest, I must admit that this not being truly reasonable. My Father may, or may not, have planned this imagined calamity as part of my future. But obviously He has not planned it as part of my present. He has grace for me to.handle the present events and that 870 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 is all He is asking of me. When the future becomes the present, it will bring with it all: its attendant graces. If I persist in projecting myself mentally into a non-existent future, I shall indeed have trouble--but not necessarily the kind that sanctifies. More likely, it will bethe type to foster neurosis! The same rule applies if I choose to live over a past that is no more. A child lives in wonder and contentment largely because he lives very much in the present. A small child has very little past to remember and an almost completely unknown future to contemplate. His horizons are limited to today--and, he is for the most part, happy. Do you recall those idyllic days of childhood when days were very long and a week a duration of unimaginable length? To wake in the morning was a thrilling moment (at least it was for me) with the gift of a whole day before me. What would happen that day I could hardly guess but I looked forward to finding out. As the years went by, the luster dimmed and I began to carry accumulated memories and worries into my new day. I began to darken the dawn by projecting storm clouds of anxiety onto the horizon. Joy and wonder went out of my life to a large degree. But Jesus said, "Unless you become as little children." Does that mean He wants us to live each new day as if it were the only one I have--as indeed it is? Yesterday is simply that--yesterday. Tomorrow--that never comes, as the wise man truly said. Here I am with today, just today. It will unfold minute by minute and along with it so shall I. The strong bulwark of time is here to insure that it shall not move faster or slower than I am designed for. There may be grave problems to be met along this unreeling road but they shall not fill every second--unless I allow them. There shall be many tiny islands of pleasure, comfort, joy to be met with too. I can limit the black times to their respective moments by simply letting them go when their time is past. About Pain . I read an account of an incident at Lourdes which has ever since remained an inspiration to me. A pilgrim--a priest, I believe--saw a little boy in one of the invalid stretchers. The child was in such a pitiful condition that the pilgrim was deeply moved and inquired gently how he could stand so much pain. The boy looked up with a bright smile and answered serenely, "It is not hard for I can stand today's pain. I don't have yesterday's anymore and tomorrow's is not here." For all those who have to cope with pain (and who of us does not?) these are words of ageless wisdom. Many have written of the problem of pain or more accurately of the mystery of pain. These theological and psychological studies are very helpful insofar as they provide us with a partial insight into the why and wherefore of suffering in our lives. We all find things easier to bear when they have meaning. But when it comes down to the actual bearing of pain day after day, nothing is more practical than the simple rule of "one day at a time." This may not sound very profound but it is effective wisdom. No matter what kind of pain we have, mental, physical or moral, we can cope with it most effec- Space for a Rose tively when we accept and live with it only moment by moment. For those peo-ple whose pain offers no proximate solution, the temptation to be overwhelmed by it is very real. Especially if it is a combination of physical and mental torments, as it usually is. We can lighten the burden for ourselves and others if we keep our eyes fixed on the God who doles out our life and breath one second at a time. In the same measure He supplies us with His grace, not only to bear but to embrace the pain in our lives. Unpolluted Time We should not pollute the gift of time with a compulsive attitude of rush and of works which absolutely must be done now. Time is the atmosphere of our souls. We must strive to keep it pure. This depends much more on our in-ner attitudes than on the circumstances around us. We don't always have con-trol over outside events but we can exercise control over our attitudes towards them. If you find yourself, as I often discover myself, unconsciously pushing time in order to get to the next event; the next assignment; the next problem, then something needs a bit of adjustment. We are missing the present moment toward which we pressed so eagerly yesterday. And in missing this moment we are missing the God who is waiting for us right now. We think we will find Him next time we are in church, or we will find Him tomorrow, and so we press on, hurry past Him and then wonder why He seems so absent from our lives. He is not absent; we are! Our lives are only a shell of half-lived moments and we are poor; poor and empty. This is not, however, the poverty of spirit which Jesus praised. If we realized how needy we are, we would receive the gift of each moment with grateful wonder and would not dare to abuse it by seeking another time or place. The phrase "spiritual ecology" comes to mind. We can create a beautiful environment for our spirit if we settle down and listen to the message of our beating heart. One beat at a time--not all of them at once (hopefully) and we are living healthily. We breathe in our needed amount of air .this minute and continue to live. Should not this tranquil rhythm permeate our spiritual living also? We have a luxurious amount of time--enough to last our whole lives! But we need to deepen our appreciation of it. Instead of bemoaning the limits it necessarily sets to our activiti,es, even our most spiritual ones, we should joyfully accept the room it makes for all of them. One half-hour is not a very long time for prayer but it can be most rich if each of its thirty complete minutes is cherished in their presence. Our God comes to us only in time. He Loves Time In Jesus' life, we see Him functioning with beautiful tranquillity within the framework of time. He appreciates it; He respects it. He waits patiently for the "hour" which His Father has appointed for Him. Jesus does not try to an-ticipate the time the Father has decreed. He awaits it with composure and uses to their full all the intervening hours and moments in His life. There is an ira- 872 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 portant task to be accomplished but Jesus sees that it is meant to be fulfilled by living and loving fully each successive, day. He moves in wide spaces of freedom; so gracious and spacious we think Him touched by eternity. But He found, eternity in the present moment. So can we. God does not do all He wants to do in us as soon as we ask. He has a definite "hour" in mind for us. He comes to meet us at special times in our lives which we cannot anticipate. We may only humbly await them. Sometimes His hour is one of special revelation of HimSelf--or of ourselves. It may be the hour of crushing trial or of joyous unexpected fulfillment. One hour surely awaits all of us, the most decisive one of our lives--our last. We shall scarcely be alive to these extraordinary hours of grace unless we have heard and heeded His word, "My time is at hand," in each ordinary hour of our lives. To develop a healthy spiritual e~ology is not complicated but it requires self-discipline. Our wandering, rushing mind and body must be slowed down, We must deliberately cloister our spirits in the gentle haven of right now. Then we shall walk in wonder and awe before a world most rich and beautiful. Time to See. and B~ If I rush into our enclosed garden determined to get a brisk walk in before 1 do more important things, I shall never see the garden. It shall remain "enclosed" also to me. But if I step out into the sunshine, reveling in the full five minutes my Father has given me, I shall walk with gratitude and wide-open eyes. I shall see the white butterflies with one black spot on each wing dance over the pink zinnias. I shall be able to laugh at the bumblebee who gets snapped at by the snapdragon it was so cautiously opening for nectar. And when these precious five minutes have elapsed I shall be refreshed and alive both physically and spiritually. My Father knows that a rose needs space to unfold, even a wild rose. How good of Him to provide me this room in His mansion of many dimensions, As I write these lines, the cicadas have momentarily stopped singing in the heat. Only the white butterflies are ecstatically circling each other among the blue petunias. It is very quiet., and very good in this moment. The New Law Versus The Gospel Jerome Murphy-O'Connor, O.P. Father Murphy-O'Connor is Professor of'New Testament at the Ecole Biblique de J~rusalem, P.O.B. 178, Jerusalem, Israel. By bringing the prescriptions regarding religious in the New Code of Canon Law to the attention of those who will have to li~e under them Father Kevin O'Rourke has rendered an immensely valuable service.~ Without his ad-mirably objective translations and summaries, the dialogue which should be an integral characteristic of the Christian community would be difficult, if not - impossible. His own evaluation rightly gives credit to the new spirit which animates the revision of this part of the Code, and his censure of the revisors' refusal to accept input from religious is well merited. However, his observation that "A new law can be well designed and constructed, but unless the people think it is 'their' law, it will not be observed as well as if they had some hand in its formulation''2 needs to be taken further. Dissatisfaction can be generated by failure to observe democratic procedures, but a more profound and lasting resentment is awakened when laws do not correspond to the self-understanding of the people they govern. Hence, the need to penetrate behind the statements of the New Code to the theology .of religious life that they embody, It is imperative that the revisors' assumptions regarding the nature of religious life be brought out into the open and subjected to searching debate, because once the New Code is promulgated it will inevitably tend to impose its vision of religious life. Despite the principle of subsidiarity which gives great latitude to particular institutes, it would be ~"The New Law for Religious: Principles, Content, Evaluation," Review for Religious 34 (1975) 23-49. =Art. cit., p. 49. 873 874 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 dangerously naive.to assume that the~e will not be pressures to make the con-stitutions of individual congregations conform to the "spirit" of the New Code. Should the revisors' vision of religious life be defective it will frustrate the work of renewal that has begun with so much pain and heart-searching. The advances that have been made will be gradually nullified, and the ground-work will have been laid for a repetition of the crisis that rocked religious con-gregations in the recent years. This danger, in my opinion, is not theoretical but very real. Despite their evident good intentions, the revisors assume an inadequate concept of religious life which has done untold damage in the past. In making this criticism I base myself on the truth that the religious life is but a particular manifestation of the Christian life. In consequence, it must faithfully reflect the pattern of Christian life laid down in the New Testament, and no theology of religious life can be considered adequate unless it successfully integrates 'all the insights of the New Testament. This point has been made explicitly by Vatican II: "Since the fundamental norm of the religious life is a following of Christ as proposed by the gospel, such is to be regarded by all communities as their supreme law" (Perfectae Caritatis, n. 2). When judged against this standard the revisors' understanding of religious life not only fails to reach the ideal proposed by the gospel but on occasion contradicts it. The Definition of Consecrated Life As given by Father O'Rourke, the first canon reads as follows: Life consecrated through the profession of the evangelical counsels is a stable form of life, by which the faithful, following Christ more closely, are dedicated totally to God loved above all, so that by a new and special title they are ordered to the honor of God, to the salvation of the world, and to the building up of the (~hurch, seek the perfection of charity in the service of the kingdom of God, and become clear signs in the Church foretelling heavenly glory. Which form of living in institutes of perfection, constituted under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and canonically erected by the competent authority of the Church the faithful freely accept, who through vows or other sacred bonds, profess to observe according to the particular law of these institutes the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and ~ obedience, and who are united to the mystery of the Church in a special way by charity, to which the counsels lead. The elements I have italicized in this definition call for comment. (a) "Following Christ more closely (they) are dedicated totally to God." Since this canon has the form of a definition, these phrases can only mean that by definition religious follow Christ more closely and are, by definition, totally dedicated. They cannot be interpreted as meaning that religious should follow Christ more closely and should be completely dedicated to God. The canon, therefore, states that religious are better Christians than other believers. A view that makes sense only in virtue of the assumption that the form of life chosen by religious is of itself superior to that of other Christians. The revisors, therefore, revert to the concept of religious life as a state of perfec-tion, a concept that was deliberately abandoned by Vatican II. Dedication to The New Law Versus the Gospel / 875 God manifested in the following of Christ is exclusively a question of charity, and has no intrinsic relationship to any particular pattern of life. To imitate Christ means to love as He did, and the degree of perfection reached in such imitation is conditioned only by the quality of love that is actually displayed. (b) "United to the mystery of the Church in a special manner by charity. '° Charity is specifically mentioned here, but the meaning of the phrase is anything but clear, because charity has a unifying effect only between persons. In the strict sense one cannot be united through love to an institution. If the revisors intended to speak of the bond of charity which should obtain between the members of the Church they could have expressed themselves much less ambiguously. It may well be, however, that the vagueness was deliberate, and that the phrase was intended to be suggestive rather than meaningful. In the light of the previous paragraph the purpose can only be to insinuate that religious occupy a special place in the Church. Yet the second canon insists that religious do not pertain to the hierarchical structure of the Church. Hence, while affirming that religious belong to the laity, the revisors make a distinction between two groups of laity and, incredibly, the basis of the distinc-tion is claimed to be charity. By definition, therefore, religious are more perfect in charity than other members of the Church. Since this is manifestly untrue in terms of actual loving, one can only conclude that the revisors operated on the assumption that religious are more perfect in virtue of their state. This, the most natural interpretation, ~is confirmed by the fact that the charity in question is that "to which the counsels lead." (c) "The evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience." Because all the other meaningful elements in the definition apply equally to all Christians, it is clear that the revisors' understanding of religious life is based on the concept of the "evangelical counsels" which, according to the third canon, "are founded in the teaching and example of Christ." They suppose that some Christians are called to a higher level of practice than others, and that the acceptance of this option is a matter of free choice. Were this assump-tion correct it would certainly constitute a secure basis for the distinction that the revisors make between two groups of laity, but the fact is that it is in flat contradiction with the teaching of the New Testament. There is a formal consensus among scholars of all confessions that the New Testament does not discriminate between different types of Christians. It makes no provision for an "elite" because the divine demand is addressed equally to all, and the fundamental condition for the reception of baptism is the acceptance of this demand in its totality: All are imperatively summoned to the perfection of charity, and all are guilty to the extent that they fail to manifest the love which animated Christ. The so-called "counsels" are not offered to some. They are binding upon all. More specifically, there is nothing in the teaching of Jesus that can be con-strued as an exhortation to renounce material good or marriage.The poor are blessed, not because they are poor, but because the messianic era has arrived in 876 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/6 which their poverty will be relieved. The central thrust of the incident involving the Rich Young Man concerns faith, and the exhortation to sell all that he possessed pertains to his specific psychological state. The same condition for following Jesus is not imposed on the fishermen disciples. The statement con-cerning those who make themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven is' directed towards married persons, and deals with celibacy only to the extent that it concerns the celibacy forced on a sincere married Christian by the obligation to remain open in love to a spouse that has abandoned the marriage? All this is but the current coin of serious exegesis, and it is incredi-ble( given the emphasis on Scripture in Vatican II).that the revisors did not de-mand competent advice before declaring that "the profession of the evangelical, counsels" entailed "the renunciation of certain values which are to be undoubtedly esteemed" .(canon 4), I intend to return to the revisors' understanding of the vows, but enough has been said at this point to show that the revisors are completely mistaken in their comprehehsion of the so-called "evangelical counsels." Since this is the key~element in the definition and the basis of their assumptions concerning the state of perfection, it is evident that the whole definition is erroneous. In itself this is sufficient to compromise all that is said subsequently. Community It will be noted that community plays virtually no role in the above defini-tion. The function of the institute of perfection to which a religious belongs is to specify the precise conditions of the vows of lboverty~ chastity, and obedience. It has nothing to do with growth in love, with the salvation of the world, or with the building up of the Church. These duties all belong to the members taken as individuals, as the plural verbs indicate. The justification for this limitation appearsin Part II of the New Code where it becomes evi-dent that the above definition is intended to apply not only to religioUs com-munities but also to hermits and to secular institutes which are not bound to the common life. There is no doubt that both hermits and members of secular institutes lead consecrated lives, but there is no justification for the watering down of religious life that the revisors' quest for a common denominator necessarily involves. The community dimension of religious life' is pushed into the background with the result that the theology of religious life is completely distorted. By deciding to make the status of the individual the basis of the New Code the revisors have consecrated an individualism which is in radical con-tradiction with the teaching and example of Christ. If the fundamental status of believers is that of members of the Body of Christ how can they be treated as if they were autonomous entities? The revisors, of course, will reply that they consider individuals not in themselves but as belonging to various institutes of perfection. This is simply untrue in the case of the hermit whose only relationship is with a superior. 3For detailed justificfition of these statements, cf. my study What is Religious Life?, Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1973. The New Law Versus the Gospel / 877 Much could be said about this point. The assumption of the revisors is that the hermit can cut him or herself off entirely from the world. It would be ex-tremely difficult, if not impossible, to find any justification for this mod+ of life in the New Testament, and historically no hermit who achieved sanctity was ever totally separated from the world. People came to them with their problems and to learn the secrets of prayer with the result that they were in fact involved with a community. The member of a secular institute belongs officially to an institute of perfection, but the New Code glosses over the ambiguity of the ,word '.'belonging." The members "belong" to the institute in the sense of a legal relationship, but such a relationship can be real or ptlrely formal. A real relationship necessarily involves presence, because it is constituted by the reciprocity in need and response. For sincere Christians the most imperative needs are those about them, because they recognize that the situation in which they find themselves is God-given. Providence, therefore, imposes limits on the universality of charity. Both St. Augustine (De Doct: Christ., I, ch. 28) and St. Thomas Aquinas (II-II, q. 26, a. 6) were conscious of the need to prevent charity evaporating. The precept of charity towards all men"could be taken so literally that no one would be lo~;ed properly. Hence, with the immense com-monsense that is the characteristic of saints, Augustine said, "All men are to be loved equally, but since you cannot be useful to all, it is strongly advised that you concentrate on those who fortuitously are closest to you by reason of time, place, or any other circumstance." It is impossible to love all men, unless charity is understood as a vague theoretical attitude of openness, i.e., when be-ing prepared to love is equated with actual loving. The reality of charity is ac-curately defined by Augustine in terms of utility which implies service. Those to whom service is to be rendered are those whom God has placed in .our path through the providential circumstances of time and place. Jesus commanded "Love your neighbor as yourselt" (Mt 22, 39 and parallels), and all the texts which imply the universality of love are to be interpreted as prohibitions of dis-crimination. Hence, the community to which a Christian really belongs is con-stituted by those who are the actual fabric of his or her daily existence. No legal affiliation can break this fundamental evangelical bond, or be substituted for it. The members of secular institutes working alone belong less to the institute khan to their apostolic environment. Their commitment to intensifying the Christianity of that environment may differ in degree from that of the average layperson, but it is essentially the same. One has only to read the Sermon on the Mount to realize the extent to which every believer is obligated to be the ferment of love, And that love in. order to be real demands the reciprocity of sharing. To the extent that the members of secular institutes depend on their apostolic environment for physical and affective sustenance, and in turn con-tribute on both these levels, the vows of poverty and chastity become real. But this ~haring is only an intensification of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy to which all Christifins are obliged. Therefore, the community to which ~178 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 the isolated member of a secular institute really belongs is the local parish or subdivision thereof. In the light of the gospel his or her relationshp to the in-stitute is no different than his or her relationship to the family. Both exercise a formative.influence which served as the foundation for lasting affective bonds, but the reality which manifests the call of God in the present moment is the apostolic environment. To give priority to the institute is to fall back into a merely formal relationship which is equivalent to the sterile legalism that Jesus and Paul condemned so severely. The situation is very different in the case of institutes of common life, because the community in which the members live is distinct from the apostolic environment in which they work. In other words, the community to which they are legally affiliated is the community to which they really belong. That community is the primary context in which the call of God is heard, because according to the order of charity, on which Augustine and Thomas in-sist, those with whom one lives have the first claim on one's love. The needs of those outside the community (i.e, the local community which is the only place that the institute becomes real) must take second place to the needs of the members. The situation is reversed in the case of a member of a secular in-stitute, because those who are legally affiliated to the institute are remote whereas those who constitute the apostolic environment are immediately pres-ent. ~. Legalism can obfuscate this difference, and lawyers may believe that it is not important, but for those who take the gospel seriously it is crucial, because the seed of the Word can take root only in the soil of reality. There is a real distinction between those who consecrate themselves to the service of God as members of a community and those who as individuals consecrate themselves to that same service within the potential community constituted by an apostolic environment. A common denominator can be sought in the idea of "consecration," as the revisors have in fact done, but the value of such a com-mon denominator is precisely what needs to be questioned. There are criteria more important than sterile intellectual neatness or the convenience of lawyers. To ignore reality for the sake of superficial classification is to in-troduce, ambiguities which can have disastrous consequences for the self-understanding of those who have to live under the New Code. This is manifest in the definition of consecrated life adopted by the revisors. It applies much more accurately to hermits and the members of secular institutes than it does to those who belong to institutes of common life. The inevitable consequence is to make community appear as something secondary. It functions as a legal point.,of reference rather than as the basic Christian reality designed to render a unique service both to the Church and to the world.4 4It should also be pointed out that the revisors' understanding of secular institutes depends entirely on the above-criticized concept of "a state of perfection." l f, according to Title I11 of Part il, the members of such institutes "lead their temporal life as the rest of the faithful" all that dis-tinguishes them from the rest of the laity is "the practice of the evangelical counsels." This conclu- The New Law Versus the Gospel / 879 The Difference between Institutes of Perfection The diminution of the importance of community appears even more clearly in Part II of the New Code. The first preliminary canon (n. 91) states, "These institutes follow Christ more closely either~"by prayer, by active works which benefit mankind, or by communicating with people in the world," and Father O'Rourke has correctly observed that the purpose of this canon is to found the distinction between various types of institutes on the type of apostolate carried on by each one? It is perfectly obvious that different institutes in fact do different things, but the way in i,which the revisors deal with this aspect leads to the conclusion that they considered such activities the raison d'~,tre of these institutes. Not only is this assumption in tension with the concept of a state of perfection adopted elsewhere, but it represents a complete misunderstanding of the nature of any Christian community. The revisors neglect the fact that there are two specifically different types of community. For convenience they can be termed the action-community and the being-cornmunity.6 An action-community is one whose raison d'etre is the performance of a series of related actions. It is brought into existence for that purpose. Thus, an army exists in order to execute a plan of defense or attack; a business company exists in order to produce and sell a product. The goal desired in each case is beyond the capacity of an individual, so a number band together to extend the power and scope of their activity. A being-community, on the other hand, is composed of those who come together in order to be or become something as individuals. The purpose of a fitness-club is that the members be fit and healthy. The importance of this distinction is that it permits us to see that the posi-tion of the individual varies considerably according to the type of community to which he. belongs. In the action-community'the individual is for the com-munity, and takes second place to the action which represents the common good of that community. In a business company the individual executive or worker is much less important than the product, and his or her value is judged exclusively in terms of the product. Any sort of damage to the product will result in dismissal. Built into the structure of an action-c6mmunity is the sion is confirmed by the history of the secular institute movement. Th~eir struggle to gain recogni-tion within the Church was based on the assumed relation between the vows and a state of perfec-tion. It was felt that a special value was attached to a lift th(ough profession of the vows, and that the acquisition Of this value conferred a staths that the rest of the laity did not possess. Social recognition of this status was desired as a reinforcement of the members' conviction that what they were doing was worthwhile, in the light ofthe gospel there can be no dispute as~to how this quest for status and recognition should be judged. Love is the only authentically Christian title to status. ~Art. cir., p. 42. ~For a more developed exposition of this distinction, see ch. 2 of the study mentioned in note 3 above. ~180 / Review for Religious, IZolume 34, 1975/6 assumption that a number of ihdividuals will be losers. They can forfeit their lives in an army or be wiped out economically by taxes--and this is rightly taken for granted. In a being-community, however, the community is for the individual, because the raison d'etre of such a community is to provide the individual with stimulus and opportunity. This is perfectly evident in the example of a fitness club. Since its goal is that all the members interiorize the ideal of optimum fitness, it follows that such a club has no common-good distinct from the achievement of the individual. The success or failure of the club. is judged in function of the success or failure of the individual. To which category of community does the Christian community belong? In the light of the New Testament there can be no hesitation. It is a being-community, for its raison d'etre is to make it possible for its members to follow Christ, and thereby to prolong His mission incarnationally by demo.nstrating the double reconciliation (with God and.other human beings, cf. Eph 2, 14-16) that He came to accomplish. In order to be truly Christian, therefore, each community of believers must reflect this basic characteristic. Of its very nature it exists to provide the opportunity of authentic Christian ex-istence for all its members. But such existence is fundamentally a sharing; itis not something that each individual possesses absolutely. This is evident in the Johannine allegory of the vine and the branches (Jn 15, 1-11), but the most,for-mal affirmation comes from St. Paul, "As many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. for you are all one person in Christ Jesus" (Gal 3, 27-28; cf. Col 3, 10-11). Believers are different from non-Christians because they exist in union, whereas the existence of the latter is characterized by divisions. The mission of the Church to transform the world involves breaking down the barriers of hostility and suspicion that divide humanity. In order to ach!eve this it must first show that such divisive tendencies no longer exist within itself. It must show itself to the world as a profoundly reconciled com-munity. Only within the context of such reconciliation are t

Issue 7.6 of the Review for Religious, 1948. ; Review for ReHgio NOVEMBER 15, 1948 Assisting at Mass .'-. Cla'rence McAul;ffe ~Distractions in Mental Prayer . c.A. Herbsf On S÷ayin9 in Love . Richard Leo Heppler Loving the Neigi~bor . Gera~a. Ke'y Doc÷Hne of. St. John of he Cross" ¯ . J.E. Breun;g Book Reviews Communications . .Questions Answered Annual Index VOLUME VII ~ NUMBER .6 VOLFdMI] VlI NOVEMBER, 19478 NUMBER 6 CONTENTS PAP.AL DIRECTIVES FOR ASSISTING. AT MASS-- Clarence McAuliffe, S.,I . 281 DISTRACTIONS IN MENTAL ~RAYER--C. A. Herbst, S.,l. , 290 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 294 ON 8TAYING IN LOVE~Riehard Leo Heppler, O.F.M . 29~ ANEW EDITION OF NEWMAN . 298 C~N THE DUTY OF LOVING THE NEIGHBOR, ESPECIALLY ENEMIES--Gerald Kelly, S.J, 299 THE DOCTRINE OF ST. JO~-IN OF THE CROSS--J. E. Breunig, S'.3,. 313 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS~ ! 42. Use of Interest from Dowries and Legacies for Community Pur-posea . , ¯ ~ ." . 321 43. Common Life and Recreational Travel . . . ~ . 321 44. Retirement Age for Superiors~ . . ¯ 321 45. Ro~ary~Indulgences, Mysteries, and Literature . ". . . 322 COMMUNICATIONS . 327 BOOK REV'IEWS~ Exile Ends in Glory; Souls at Stake . , ¯ ¯ 324 Book NOTICES" ¯ . 326 A REPRINT ~ERIES---MAYBE! . ~ . 331 ANNU.AL INDEX ~ . ., . . 333 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November. 1948~ Vet. VII, No. 6, Published bi-monthly; January, March. Mair, 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 sec0rid class matte~ January ~1-5, 1942, at the Post Otiice, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editoriai Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.d., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary; Alfred F. Schneider, S.,l. Copyright, 1948/by Adam C. Eliis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be~ given "this review and the author. Subscriptiott price: 2 dollars .a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before wrlflncj tO us, please consult, notice on lee|de, beck cover. Papal Directives t:or Assisting al: Mass Clarence McAuliffe, S.2. ~| T IS, THEREFORE, Venerable Brethren, proper for all Cath-olics to realize that participation in the Eucharistic Sacrifice is for them an urgent duty and a lofty dignity. This participa-tion is not achieved if their minds are torpid, .unconcerned, distracted and daydreaming. On the contrary, so, fervent and active should be their mental application that they will become, intimately united with their High Priest (Christ). Together with,Him and through Him they should offer the ,Mass, and along.with Him they should consecrate themselves (to God)." Th~se words were penned by our Holy Father, Plus XII, in his memorable dncyclical "Mediator Dei"' of November, 1947.~ They furnish a compendious sketch 6f the internal spirit which all Cath-olics, and especially religiofis and 15riests," should foster at every Mass. This inteinal spirit is etched";2~ith greater preCision-in 'otl~er sections bf the encyclical. Nor does ~the POntiff rest satisfied with an expla-nation of the internal spirit-'6nly. He also'becomes quite, detailed regard'ing various external ways of as?isting at Mass. It should prove 15fin~ficial~for the spiritual lives of reade?s of ~he i~EVlEW and of those with-whom they deal, to summarize and explain the,papal directives in this important matter. ¯ - ° It" should be ~noted first of all that, just as in all prayer, so at Mass, the internal spirit of those present is~vastly more important than the external manner of participation, The Holy Father ins_ists on' this principle _in various paragraphs of the encyclical. Indeed,, he . points out, as we 'shall indicate later, that the-external ways of par-ticipation may~ vary ~but that the internal spirit: should re.main con-stant. It is uniform; it applies to. all the particip~ants, t~o~ugh i~o will be realizeffdn°diverse degrees.according to the~graces~,kngw~ledge, _a.nd circumstances, of each individual. The same internal .spirit .s.bou_ld pervade the Low Mass as well as the High Mass: it shou~/~d be, the goal of the sinner as well as of the saint; it should be c.uJtiga~ted regardless of one's subjective moods. The~ external participation, whatever form it takes, has but one chief purpose-~-to foster_ the 281 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Reoieto ¢or Religious proper internal dispositions of the participant. But what are these internal dispositions? After answering this .question in a gener~al way, the Holy Father particularizes. As ~egards' the general" answer, he says that participants in the Mass should endeavor to arouse in themselves the same internal spirit which animated Christ" Himself when He was immolated on Cal-vary. This idea is fundamental: and the Pontiff expressly declares it when he says that ~the' Mass "demands' of all Cl~istiahs ~that they imbue their souls with the same affections; insbfar as it lies in human power, that permeated the soul of the Divine Redeeme~ when He made the sacrifice of Himself." It Will not~.be difficult to understand the reason f6r this cardinal dire~tivi if~we recall two dogmatic principles about the Mass. First, the Mass is not-only a" memorial, but an actual unbloody repetition, bf Calvary. SeCond, the Savior, both bn Calvary and at each Mass, does not offer for Himself, but for us. He represents"the entire human family, and especially those who by baptism have become members of His Mystical Body. He acts for each one of.us; He is our substi-tute: and since at every Mass He re-enacts Calvary, He therefore expeits each one of us to strive for those internal dispositions which He Himself has. Just as each member 9f a graduat.lng class, is expected to possess th~ dispositions harbored and publicly expressed by its valedictorian, or as each member of a fraternal organization should,foster the sentiments publicly proclaimed by its pres, ident in the name of all, so should each Catholic at Mass strive to nurture the dispositions of~the~,Savio~r, who in the name,of all renews the offering of Calvary at the Holy Sacrifice. 'Descending to ~details, the~Holy Father .itemizes the basic ele-ments of this intelnal spirit. It should conform to the purposes of both Calvary ancl~ the Mass. Th~se are four in number, but pre-eminent among them is the spirit of adoration. It is of faith that the Ma~s is a genuine sacrifice. Ai such it can be offered to .God alone, and itsprincipal~function:is ~o rendersto God that supreme honor th~it is du~e exclusively td'Him. To q~uote the Holy Father: "From~His birth to His. death 3esus Christ wasqnflamed ,with zezl for the advancement of God's" glory : and fkom thd cross the immola-tion Of His blood ascended to heaven in an odor of sweetness." This spirit of adoration gripped the Savior's "human soul With acute poigna.ncy while his life blood slowly ebbed away on the cross. In the same spirit He, as the principal minister, offers Himself in the 282 ASSISTING AT.~LAss tiame of allsat every Mas~.~ It is the spirit 'which all participants in the'Miss shoiild sedulously cultivate. The Mass by its very nature an~l action exi)resses God's transcendent donlination over~ mankind and'~the utter subjection of mankind .to God. Hdn~e it poitulates from all a spirit of humble adoration2 . ~ -~ ¯ Ho~v~ver, three other element_s, to mention only'~the basic .ones. entered into the Savior's disposition at-the Crucifixion. Although theie three are implicitly contained in the spirit of adoration, it would be well for participants in the Mass to make them explicit, as the Holy F~ther observes in the encyclical. Perhaps the most important Of these is the spirit of thanksgiving. God has given us, 'both as individuals and as social beings, every single thing. Strive as we may,~ w~ can n~ver tl~ank Him ade-- quately. But with theoSon of God Himself repr~seniing ~us and ~icting~ in our name oh0 Calvary and at each Mass,wit isonow ~possible for us to 6fief a worthy thanksgiving. ;That i spirit of gratitude anl-ma~ e~l ourSa¢ior's~soul on Calvary~ is clear, as the Holy Fatl~er men-tion~ s'; fiom the~fact that ~Holy Scripture:says that He "gave thanks" at the~.prepai~tory sacrifice of ~the Last "Supper. Moreover, "He continuously~ gave thanks as He hung from the crbss/'' states the Pontiff. Since, therefore, we are expected'at~each ~Mass.to foster the dispositions of Christ Himself, we too should,cultivate a spirit of gratifude . Secondly, the Mass should evoke in each participant a spirit of expiation; of reparation for 6ne's own sins and ~for those of the entire human family. ' We know that our Sa,~ior died to redeem the human race, to ransom it from the bonds of original sin and also of actual sin, so that we cotild again achieve our supern.atural, destiny. According to the Holy Father it was .for,this reason ~that our Savior "wished to be immolated on the cross~ as 'a~ propitiation for our sins, and not only .for burs, but for those of ~he whole world.' " And the Pontiff continues: "Moreover, on our altars ~He. offers.Himself d~ily for our~ redemption.so that snatched_ from eternal ruin~ we~ may be numbered among the elect." It is evident, therefore, that Our Lord botkon Calvary and in each Muss.possesses a spirit of repara-tion for sin, and the same spirit ~should~ animate us at~the Holy Sacri-fice. We should be sorry for our own shortcomings and make atone-ment for the sins and crimes of humanity., Finally, our Savior on Calvary was permeated with a spirit of impetration. He'saw how mankind, by original sin: particularly, had ,283 CLARENCE I~CAULIFFE Review [or Religious squandered the'bountiful gifts oLGodoand, to. quote the' encyclical, "had reduced itself to a state of utter poverty and indigence.','~ Not only on the cross did He beseech His heavenly Father to relieve this miserable condition, but, to quote again, "He petitions, for.us 'in'the same etficacious way upon our holy altars." Hence it is fitting that we, too, for whom He supplicates, should foster a disposition of impetration at every Mass. Adoration, thanksgiving, .reparation, petition. We must steep ourselves in these four affections at Mass if we would put 9n '.'the same affections that permeated the soul of the Divine Redeemer on Calvary." But perhaps it would be well for us to become acquainted with a reason, drawn from the very nature of the Mass itself, why this fourfold disposition should be cultivated. We must remember that the Mass is not merely a social prayer, but a social prayer in action. Moreover, it is a unique social prayer in action. After all, when the celebrant sprinkles the congregation with holy water before High Mass or when the deacon silently incenses the entire congrega-tion at the offertory of High Mass, we have social prayer, in action. But the MasS,is a-unique prayer in action, because it is a, genuine sacriEce, the only one acceptable to God in the world today. If. we understand the basic notion underlying the concept of sac-rifice, it will be easy for us to see why it. postulates dispositions of adoration, gratitude, expiation, and petition. Every sacrifice is fundamentally the giving of a gift to God. This giving is not enough to constitute a sacrifice, but without it no true sacrifice could come into ,being. Bearing this in .mind, let us ask ourselves the meaning of presents or gifts when they are bestowed among men. We find ,that the giving of a gift to another is an action and that this "action has various but definite meanings, - whether expressed or not. By such gifts we sometimes manifest.our gratitude, as when a man leaves his money t6 a hospital that cared for him when he was indigent. At other times a gift. means "I am sorry,''~ as when a hus-band, after an unjustifiable outburst of anger, presents his wife with a box of candy. Sometimes a gift'ineans "'I want a favor," '_'I'm going to ask you for something shortly," as might be the~case when an employer bestows an unexpected bonus on-an'employee. Finally,oa gift may emphasize particularly our honor and affection-,for ~another, as when children buy their mother a new coat for Mother's Day. Honor, thanksgiving, reparation, impetration--these .meanings or, at least one of them, are the significance of every gift. The gift is a 284 No~emb~ec, 19'48 "ASSISTING AT MASS manner or expressing these, emotions By a deed. , The ~ift~ represent~ th~.persgff°wh'o gives,''~ By ~i,iihg of' his shbstahce, the dohor says it/ effect that be'wishes to give h~mself' to the~ecipient for one of .thd f0~ur ~urpos-es mentioned abd~ oi for all of' th'em together. '~'L~et us° apl~ly, this tb the Mass. -Th~ gift we therd offer.i.t0 God thr0tigh the priest is none other than oui Divi;ae Lord Himself. ~This is an articie of' faith. Alth6~gh the presentation of:this Gift to God is externalljr and officially made by th'e priest aldne, neverthel~ss the priest~acts both.tin'the name of Christ, the principal Gi~rer, and in°the hame of all the baptized, especially df those who are assisting ,~t the Massl Hence our divin~"Savior ;is ~!the°~ift Of all tb the Eternal Father. Onl~r the priest can make ~fie outwa~'d°'0ffering:which cdnstitutes the saciit~ce ;" but th~ priest mak~es, this ~offering :for ali the people! ~'ai~d each p~i~ticii~hnt af Mas~ Sh0uld,~th~eiefbre, inteinal.ly~ offer ~he~DiVind Gift in ti'~i0n £;ith the' priest. Arid each participant shOUld also rem~em-bet that ChriSf, trul~resent bn',the alta~ at the d6nsecration~ repre-sents himself arid eee~'y membe? of 'th~ Mysticat Body. ~ If, .then/we ~ilize tl-iat~at ex;ery M~ss. each ,baptized member of the congregation pr'e~ii~ti th~0ii~h~th~, priest' fiis~dwn ~ersoi~a! Gift to G0d~ it easy to understand why each one; "~hiSuld~-~put on~ thee~ affecti~ins ~f adbration,,thanksgivifig, .,rep'aration,o and~petition. ,,~hese are the .pi~rposes:of all I~ifts; and,at Mass all fouk purposes, are~al~w, ays" t6~be at'faified~ ~Gianted, tha~t, .the)~Church p'ros~ides ,'special !- Masses, of thanksgiving, o~p~tition, oor reparation.,, SuCh;, Ma~ses hierely niean that~on some particular occasion we~aie stressifig our~ spirit of~th~nks-giving or. expiatioh, or' impetration,' not that: we are, excludihg thi~ bther~ ends:~ ,If, ',then, ,ode0assists "at Mai~.~.with6ut realizin~o that he personally~thr6~igh~ fhe outward, actioix of, the priest, is truly; presenting his 6wnGift to God;'.,he~mi~ses.~.the~basic significance of the M~ss:,. He ~will ~0rbfit 'from it nevertheless; but,.th~ Mass by.its.~very, action', pos-tulates oUevery, participant an active, internal giving and,, conse'~ qhen~t[y~- ~the~ dispositions, of.~adoratibn,0, gratitude;~ repafatipn, o and petition whidi.dviiiy~ sincere giver possesses.~. If this Spirit°is missing, .we d6, not,'hear Mass intelligently--; .~We ~re,,like deaf men, attending an oratorical contest. Weisee, but we do, not understahd., But the Mass, since it is a true ,ga(rifice,: is not merely the, offerin~ of ¯a Gift.In every'genuine s~crifice, some~change must be Wr6ught in tht'~gift. " Hence ~th~ gift,~is~ not called Simply~ a ~" gi f,t~ "~but~.~a ".victim.'~' ¯ In sacrifi~es,!of, theo,Olit'L~aw~ this change or victimization wa§ accomplisheff by. the destruction,of the ~object offered. '~ .So too' off 285 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Calvary. ou.r.Lord, was s.a_crifie,d; by, His,d.ea~h--the~ .separa.tio.n,of His b0dy,,and.human soul. ~. Since ,the Mass~ besides .bei~g-,a,,true,~ s~crifice is also a renewal .of~Calva.ry,:we,.m~st,fi~ad. in it, a death,or,,destrtic-tion of so_me kind . ~Since., it, is, of faith ;that, Chri~st cannot.die~,or suffer physically~ since His resurrection;~ His death. .at ~Ma.,ss .is, m~rely mystical,,or~ tepresen~atiye. 'T9 under~ga.nd .this, we need only r~fl~ect a moment on the:do.uble, consecrati.on.;~,~the essence ofo the Holy:Sa.cri; rice. Though:,Christ beco_m, es~:wholly, Rresent _undgr. ,, each spe.cies~ at each consecration,, nevertheless the .words uttered by ,the pries~t d~ not give this impression.-" Ou~wa.rdly, but only outwardly,.; they ,siggify a, separation of His,.hody'and blood,, i.e., death,~ since t.he pries.t first icnotne:syeaclr tahteens: tch.oen bsreecaradt _be~sy ,t hsae y,winign e, "o,,Tyh~i Ss iysm Mg~y :b~omdsy i:.'s:.~ t~age,dc haaf~telir~ ac eb"r ioeff My blood.". ,, Since separgtion of body., and blood spells, death for a man, the two .consecrations,. taken, at their face or oral ~va!ue~ provi~l~ us with,an outward appearance of the Savior~s~ death.~ ~ All .theor logians~and, indeed: reason itself teach that such a "picture"-of' de.ath is painted by:.he"words0 of consecration and,, ~most,~the01ogi.a.n.s ad ~mit thatthis "pjc.ture" of death is the only change or d~estru~ti~on ~equired to .make the. Ma.ss a genuine sacrifice. -~ . .: .~_ >,~.0. ,: ~, ~,, , But wh~° do we" introduce such ~a dogmatic-pplnt ifito aw article which~profksses'to explain ho~ ,we,ate 1~o assist at Masig Becauseits correct-, fifiderstanding clarifies "an .additibnal ~ind' ,vital; internal dis-position which the,Holy ~Fathe~-~wishes ~very Chtholic to,(ultivi~te" ,at th~';Holy Sitcrifice;o He says that participants, in~;the-:Mass0 ','should immolate themselves as, victims." In other? words:~the.~Mass be'its vdry /action demands 6f'~all-f~iesent:~i ,spirit" of" sdlf-ifiamolation,'~of self-surrender to,God:' Ac~ordifig tb~.the~PontiffLthis :means~.more p~i'rticulaily that. each l~'hrticiplint in the-Mass "should conseCrate~him'- sell to the attainmerit~ of Gbd'~ glory ,an'd ~hould earnestly ~deslfe to imitate closely. :3esus C.'hriSt through-~the~ efidurance, of poignant sufferings:" In shbrt, the Catholic :whb assist.~ ;at Mass' intelligently should' realize' ,tha't- the'. Holy- Sacrifice" by~ ,its "~acrificial, action means th~it~he is~to go :.'all'Loutv ff6i Godi.~b6th .b~,~ac~ively.~'~ngagifig in apostolic wbrks,and~'by,suffering all evils° ~atiently:. This is,self~ immdlatidn, ~elf.-surrehd~r td"God." -~ ~ ~ ~! :: ~ : "-. :~o ~. ".~' ::~ °' . L ~And tl~e'reason~ ":Becausez as,explained abgv,e,,Chri~t Our Loid, the:Gift w~ .offer ttirouigh thd priest.,at:'Ma~s, is: not m~etely, ao ~Gift; but a~Gift~wkapped in the cloak of dda~h;b~h~dou151e ' onsec.ration. ~He is ~a mystically, oi symbolically, or celareseftatively'~ilain Gift toGod. 286" ~l'o~ember~ ! 9.'I 8 ASSISTING AT MASS He stands for us, represents us, takes our place, not merely ~is a Gift, but as~ a.Gift crucified externally again.' "Henc~ the ver~; action bf ttie Mass at the Co~nsecration requires that'.,~ve pu, t on that inward spirit which our Substitute', outwardly slain again in an unblbody manner 15y the "sword" of the consecratory words, exhibits namely; the spirit~of self-oblation, of tofal colasecration ~o God. True enough, this spirit, as~' the Holy Father observes, should.pervade a Christian thrc~ughout his life. It is symbolized evdn at baptism by" which we . "areburied ~ogether with Christ" so that we are henceforth dead to sinful pleasures. But 'the Mass by its very nature exacts an?active renewal of.this spirit of self-destruction fr6m each participant. W_ith-out such a renewal we are not alert and intelligent participators;: we miss a cardinal point of the significance of the sacrifice. To adoration, thanksgiving, reparation, and petition, therefore, should "be* added this spirit of sel'f-immolation: ~AII five of~ these dispo~sitions .~hould ~be aroused before the~ momdnt of Consecration arrives. Nor ~o01d we thii~k that we are hypocrites because lives do not~ actu'ally cortes/Send with 'the~com~lete consecration God*WhiCh the Mass expre~s~s~ for° u~ .¢vers; day. o The ;road to" "t3er-fection or to'complete ~urrender to God, is a~'.long roadL~ For most peop1~' itois meandering and rough. By sorh~ it is occasionally for~ sal~en~fo~ detours. But when we express'our totM~ dedication to~ God during MasS, we"are sincere2 We me,in thavunstinted dedication to God is the ideal which we truly yearh foi.~' We are no more hypo~ ~rites "in, inwardly.dxpressing this~tofal .devotibn ,to God than,_is the sinner who makes a fervent confession mar1~ed by genuine" soriow and a firm" resolve not to sin again, bat who, notwffh~tanding, siiis ahew through~ frailty'riot long after. ' '~ . " ~ ' A few more remarks about these five internal,°dispositions which the Pontiff teaches. 'We'sh6uld .remember that they admit of,almost infinit.e :degreds. " Not only wilP these, degrees vary in diffeient indb ¯ viduals, bu~ tl~ey will vary in, the same individual from one Mass to the 'next. ~Circumstances', both natural and supernatural'; e~plain this diversity. ~ But all five dispositions will-be ~almly, though earnestly and explicitly,~f0stered by ever~ Cathblic who really~under-stands the meafiing of the Mass. °~However, we must rdnfember, as the Holy Father cautions, that many Catholic'S, and some of best, are so circumscribed in their education that they cannot grasp the actual significance of thd Mass, which they nevertheless treasf~re highly. They know that Our Lord becomes truly present'on the 287 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review for Religious altar at the Consecration. This is about all that they do know about the Mass. They are pious, and they pray or try to pray during the Holy Sacrifice. Consequently they do possess, at least implicitly, sgme .of those internal dispositions which the Mass postulates, even though they do not connect, them directly with the sacrificial action. They profit, therefore, from the Mass; and if the flaw of not under-standing its true meaning proceeds merely from circumstances and not from any culpability, they may profit more than an erudite theo-logian. Despite this fact, it is most laudable, the Holy Father ~tates, to cultivate in oneself and to propagate to others the real signifi-cance of the Holy Sacrifice. Such. an apostolate will, generally speaking, make our people more alert and prayerful at Mass so that they will draw greater blessings from it. Such an apostolate will do much to banish daydreaming and those voluntary distractions which we have reason to believe lay hold on many of our people during the sacred mysteries. The same apostolate will increase attendance at Mass on week days. It will also prevent some Catholics from missing Mass on days of obligation, or from falling away altogether. We shall now treat briefly what the Holy Father has to say about the outward manner of participating in the Mass. Whatever external form 6ur assistance at Mass assumes, it has but one main function-- to excite the internal dispositions already discussed. The Holy Father expresses this truth several times in his encyclical. He says, for instance, in one passage, that the various ways of externally partici-pating in. the. Mass "have as their principal object to nourish and foster the piety of the faithful and their close ,union with Christ and with His visible minister; also to excite that internal spirit and those dispositions by which our minds should become like to the High Priest of the New Testament." Consequently, no one manner of externally assis.ting at Mass is to be rigidly insisted upon. This point is emphasized by the Holy Father. He .,himself offers several ways, which we shall specify,, in which one may laudably 'assist at Mass. He~ even gives reasons why no one method should be urged too insistently. He mentions, for example, that many Catholics cannot read even the vernacular and cannot, therefore, follow the Mass prayers. He declares tl~at others do not have the 'ability "to comprehend religious rites and liturgical formulas." 'Again, he states that "the temperaments, characters and minds of men are so varied and diverse that not all can be stirred and directed in the sdrne wa~t by prayers, songs and other sacred actions 288 November, 1948 ASSISTING AT MASS enacted in common." Moreover, he says that "different people have different needs for their iouls and different inclinations." In fact, the needs and :inclinatiohs of the :same individual vary from day to day. Hence .no 'one inflexible manner of hearing Mass should be imposed on all. Nevertheless,ceitain, outward ways of assisting at Mass are objectively preferable.to others, It is.noteworthy that the Pontiff m~ntions, in the first place the silent following of the Mass in the Roman Missal. He pralses~ those "who strive to place the Missal in the hands of the people so that, in union with the priest, they may pray in the same words and with the same sentiments of the Church." Secondly, he lauds those who are endeavoring to interest the people in the "Dialogue Mass." By "Dialogue Mass" the Pontiff gives no indication that he approves or even allows such a Mass when it involves the oral recitation of some liturgical prayers, such as the "Gloria" and the "Credo," simultaneously with the celebrant. The "Dialogue Mass" which the Holy Father sanctions is that" in which the people as a body, instead of the server alone, answer the prayers of the priest. As he puts it: "They respond tO the words ot the priest in dueorder"; or "They utter their prayers alternately with the priest." It is safe to say, therefore, that the "Dialogue Mass," so understood, has papal approval and even commendation. Thirdly, the Pontiff praises those who at Low Mass introduce the singing of those hymns "that are fitting for the various parts of the sacrifice." Fourthly, he approves those Low Masses in which the "Dialogue Mass," as explained previously, and the community singing of appropriate hymns are combined. Finally, at High Mass, he com-mends the community singing of the responses and of the liturgical chants, such as the "Credo." Th6se who promote all such practices are commended by the Holy Father.~ But to obviate the danger of rigid uniformity, he ¯ specifies other ways 'of assisting at Mass for the poorly instructed and also for those well-instructed Catholics who by reason of circum- 'stances or natural propensity do not wish or are unable to, follow the Missal or to engage in community prayer or singing. He states that such may during Mass "piously meditate on the mysteries of Jesus Christ." If they do not wish or are unable to do this, he recom-mends that "(hey perform other exercises of piety and say other prayers which, even though they differ from the sacred rites in their outward expression, nevertheless in their internal spirit conform to 289 C. A. HERBST Reoieto for Religious these rites." ' Such a general expression certalnly seems to. include at ¯ least the private recitation of the rosary during.Mass. ~,, Hence though certain-external .ways of hssisting,at Mass ar~; generally speaking, objectively preferable; nevertheless no one way is to be unflinchingly adhered to. The Mass postulates an internal spirit. ~The outward manner in which' that spirit is tO be obtained oi manifested is secondary and accidenfal. The Catholic. who at the Holy Sacrifice refines and develops his sentiments of adoration, gratitude, reparation, petition, and total dedkatibn to God is an active participant. The external way .which will help him best to develop those sentimentsis for him, at least on this particular occa-sion, the one that he should adopt. Dis!:rad:ions in Men!:al Prayer C, A. Herbst, S.J. y]HEN one prays vocally, the se,ntences or phrases or-even words W serve as strings by which one s thoughts are drawn along. Or we ,might say that they" are like pegs that hold our thoughts where they ought to be. In mental prayer, however, these aids to attention are wanting, and one's thoughts 'wander much more easily, So mental prayer may be said not to have as great moral unity as vocal prayer. This makes it more difficult to meditate than to pratt vocally. Distractions are thoughts during prayer which do not belong to prayer. Attention is the opposite: the~centering of,our thoughts during prayer on what belongs, to prayer. Attention', evidently, is essential to haental prayer. It is its substance. ~ In mental prayer we either think of the subject of meditation or wee do not. One cannot think of a thing andnot think of it at the same time. One thinks prayerfully on something, turns to something else, then after the interruption comes'back again to prayer. So there is a succession of prayerful acts and other acts. There is, of course~ nothing wrong with interrupting mental prayer. That is what we usually do when we say ejaculatory prayers. We pray for an instant and go right back to secular thoughts. This is not only all right but highly recommended by 290 November, 1948 DISTRACTIONS IN MEN'I~AI:, PRAYER h~ost ehlightened spiritual men. we should'.do this very,often, d~y," make a ~iabit, of it, _As Stiarez rather.~beculiarly p'ut's it, "ifiter-ruption~ s ~ard~'meritorious:''- ?~The~refore, - unless ~ ther~ :is,~ a -~special oblig~ition Of givifig to-mental prayer some ceitain.,defined, dontinuous time, no sin is cbmmittdd ifi this way, whether the ~urning,of:.the mind from.prayer td other ;thoughts is volunth~y or,.inv~olunthry, unless'~the interiuption~ is made through levity, and so unreas6nably and irreverently.:' ~' (Pesch, 'Prablectiones "Doqmaticae~ IX;~ n. 3~48.) Distrac[ions in~ mental prayer~ aie very, very common. One should not "get"discouraked on this accotiAt nor lose patience"with oneself. Evei~ holy men have them. If, ','misery loves company," we shall be consoled by what St. Augustine says in his commentary on Psalm 118: "One cries' out with ofie's whole heart when~one" thinks of nothing else. Such prayers are,.rare among the majority, frequent only with few. XVhether any are such even in the case of ~one single individual, I know not." Gerson gives many exhmples from among the Ancients to show the great difficulty of a complete ~rictory in ~this matter: Great exceptions like St. Aloysius, whos~ diitra~tions in ~half a year of prayer amounted only~to the Yspace;:of a ~Hail M~ry, ~tre shining examples to,be admired, but the~ arerarely imitable. (Cf. Zimmermann, Aszetik~: 383,'.384.), " ~'~ Involuntary distractions are not ~inful: They are~,rather'some-thing to be "suffered," to be borne with,' than s~mething we pbsi~ tively~do., ~"But to wanddr in mind Unintentionally does not deprive prayer of [all] its fruit. Hence Basil says: 'If you are so, truly Weakened by sin that you are unable':to pray attenti~iely, strive as much as you~can to cu~rb"~yourself; and God. will pardon you~ seeing that you are "unable to-stand in His presence in a becoming manner not~ through negligence but thrbugh frailty.'~" Bht attention is necessary for prayer'that its end be better ~ttained, and in Order that wl~at St. "Fhoma's Calls, the third fruit, of prayer, the immediate fi:uit attained her~ and now, spiritual refection of mind, be art/tined. (S. Th. 2-2, 83, 13.)- This spiritual iefection of mind is spiritual joy, pea~e of heart, cohsolation, joy in God, satisfaction, arid espe-cially the fostering of virtuous good will¯ Thereford, involuntary distractions ought by all, means ,to,be avoided. The}, should be forestalled, p~0vided against from afar~ sd. t6' speak.; iA ~firm determination at the beginning of prayer~mot to be distracted, and" perseverance~ in this intention, are both~morally and ps~,~hologicallyn'ecessary' for'this: morall~i, otherwise~ there may be 291 C. A. HERBST Review for Religious negligence~ or sloth; psychologi~ally, so that-the wilLmay be,buoyed up by the initial determinations. The preparatory ~acts so carefully recommended-by !St." Ignatius :in~ the: Addition~ at xhe end ~of the ,First Week of the Spiritual Exercises are.a great help, in, this matter. Then, where one notices that distractions are in the, mind, one must .turn again, to, prayer. ~ ,Remote prepara~tion is very important, too". m~ch .niore important, I am afraid, than most of, us realize in practice. This consists espe~cially 'in fostering a spirit of recollectiori during the' day; avbiding wordliness, and walking in the_presence of~ God., Some valuable~hints along this line are also given in the Additions: ~ ,f ,~ It-isr the common-teaching that deliberate distra'ctions in prayer are venially sinful when there is no go.od reason for them. ~ And this holds even for prayer that is not itself obligatory. The supposition in this case,is, of course, that one wishes, to remain in prayer and at the same time deliberately and without reason does 'not attend to God. Bwdoing this one seems to make light of Goi5 and thus~offendsagainst~ theft.reverence-required ~by the virtue.of religioff.,.~As, Suarez~explains it.:~:~'On the.one hand a man has-the intention, whi~h;he~ has not 1etracted, or did,not have a good reason for retracting, 0f,coritinuifig prayer;,,an.d ~to this end: rehaains'in .the'presence of~God by~;hi§ special intention in such,,a,pl~ice; iffsuch a manner, and,,.f0r, guch or ~o~16n~ a time;;~yet, on the other 15an_d~he: is negligent in aStending, or volun-tarily~ brings in, other,th0ughts foreign to that exercise,' And this we say,does,,not- happen without, sin, thou gh ~venial:" .: (Suarez;;De ;Or., 1.2; c.- 5,m. 1.8.) -o, ~ .:." ~ St.Basil's~explanation is,somewhat, similar: ,He says:2 "Wg must not ask, lazily; our mind,wandering here:and,there. ¯ If~ ao ma_n' :acts .thus,,~he will not only fail to get what-he asks ,,for but will even ~xasperate the L6rd more: For~ wheh a. man st.ands before a~prince and speaks, he :stands with much fear,,and certainly doesonot~ permit either_ ,the ~externab or ~ the,4nternal eye~ of. his~ :mind -tg~ ow, ander:, but remains attentive, lest perhaps-he come. to grieL :Howxmuch more ought~one to,stand before God with,fear and trembling, with his mind fixed~on Him alo~ne and intent on nothing els_e.". (P.atralo~ia Graeca, 31, 1333.) Holy'~nd learned, men through the ages have thought,,,thus, ~and good people consider as sinful distractions in prayer that are willful "and-unnecessary. ~.Since after mortal sin/the greatest evil-in the world is venial sin, and since willful distractions .are venial sins, we should ,by al! means try to eliminate them. Things like walking up and.down ?r looking 292 November, 1948 DISTRACTIONS IN MENTAL PRAYER out over the fields are not distractions at all. When there is sufficient r~ason for'admltting something distracting, it is not sinful. One may have to say a few words or answer the doorbell or light, the candles for Mass. Doing such things with'decorum is~all right. In general, one may do what is necessary pr very, convenient. In preparing for mental pra}'er one should work carefull~y so as to have ready material for meditation that will really hold the atten-. tion. Such preparation is not very difficult when made in private. One can then simply take a subject that fits, one's own present state and apply it as one knows. When the points are made in common ,,there is greater difficulty. The subject may not be at all pa~latable.and personal application may be practically impossib!e. _For such occa-sions one may well have stored up some .good meditations that are congenial. Perhaps even one could take a little time afterwards and prepare one. It has,often struck me that we are quite helpless and altogether wanting in resourcefulness in making our way through a period of mental pray~er when the matter on hand seems impossible or atten-tion has flown away, I see no reason why we cannot come to a gen-eral understanding with God for such contingencies. We might take some subject that always attracts us; the Holy Eucharist, for e,x~mp!e. An extended and affective preparation for Holy. Com-munion ought to be in place any morning. Or one might apply the Second Method of Prayer to the Common or Proper of the Mass. This, too, is quit~ in place, and easy. Analogous instances for each individual are almost innumerable. But they must be found and kept in readiness beforehand. A tired mind is helpless even to find them. Distractions in meditation usually come from incidents in daily life. We think of our work, of some problem child, a real or imagined injury rankles within us, we think of some recent joy. When a thing of this kind affects us greatly, it will come back to our attention again and again, although put aside many times. Why put it aside? In meditation we must pray mentally, but I know of no obligation that binds me 'to remain with a subject that simply will not hold my attention. Pray over the thing that is obtruding itself, that is forcing itself on your attention. It must be very out-standing in your life here and now or it would not come back so persistently. Pray over it. Pray over the distraction. Here again an understandifig with God to this effect is in ,place. We~c~ ,~ask Him to bless our work, to help us with the problem child, to bear the 293 C, A. HERBST ~ - injury patiently, with lov.e for Him, perhaps even with joy, and share ofir happiness. Making a virtue of necessity is ~not,alien to the spiritual life. ~' It sdems t0~ind that much " difficulty arises'in regard to mental prayer because we do no[take nature's lead. Itmight be a legitimate in~terpre[ation of the term 1supernatural life to say that~it is the life of grace~ built upon the foundation Of nature. There is probably hardly a saint living or .dead who does not or did not capitalize on personal circumstances and natural 'propensities in living his life of love with God. God's Providence has not ceased, arid the Holy Spirit makes use of a man's natural ~qualities and inclinations to advance hiin in tl~e 'spiritual life. Some find that thee beauty and vastness 6f ~iature° and the universe lead them upwards. Some cherish the 15resencd of God, others a sweet, gentle sorrow for sin, still others zeal for souls, and so on. Such things as these, too, might be the~ refuge of a ~wandering and tired mind during mental prayer. Ofie last refaark. A meditation on our every-day life might be very profitably made When we find ourselves suffering fr6m con-tinual distractions. A fifi~ novice master, a man of'great e~perience and deep spiritual insight, suggested that this even be deliberately chosen as a subject often: once a week, let us~ say, 'Lovingly and reverently in the prdsence of God we go through the d~y, beginning with the first waking thought, taking each action and exercise in ~;rder. R.eally, one can hardly do better. 'After all, all we' have-to offer God is bur life, our daily life. The~ chief purpose of'the n~ornifig meditation is to direct this life to God and to sanctify.it. To live ¯ today through with intense love is certainly the finest fruit of mental prayer. OUR "CONTRIBUTORS RICH/kRD LEO HEPPLER is chaplain at the 2uniorate and the Novitiate'of the Franciscan Brothers of Btookl~rn at Saiithtown Branch, New York. C. A. HERBST, GERALD KELLY, and CLARENCE MCAULIFFE are members of the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas: and J. E. BREUNIG is completing his theo-logical studies at the same institution. ~ 294 On St:aying in Love Richard Leo Heppler, O.F.M. ~"~N,.lUST HOW MA.NY points the modern worldly person and V, the Saint disagree it~would be almost impossible to calculate. But-surely~they would be at .variance in regard' to the meaning of at least one of our popular sayings: Andthe adage which provides the matter for difference of opinion is°the saying, °"Love ma~kes the world go 'round." Truly, it would be hard to find a ~more unscien'- tific little senterlce. It reveals a complete .disrespect: for the laws of nature: for attraction, movement, rotation, and, force. It shows a profound disregard for~ ,the. prindple of cause and effect. The man who coined that phrase might have been a~cavalier: it is imposs~ible to think of him as a devotee of the atom. Leaving this dis~u'ssioh aside for a moment, we would be quick to admit that° both the children of 'this world and. the saints.,agree that love certainly ~makes a human being go 'round. We would be hard put to explain some very strange ~onduct if we could not attribute it to love. When a, young man so far. forgets himself as to swing into the latest dance steps ,in the,pennsylvania. ,Station, the surprised bystanders, will indulgently nod their-heads and agree that he is in Iove. When the, young lady who sits next to you, ,on .the First Avenue"bus insists upon hummlng~-and .humming rather attractively--"Only Make.Believe," you excuse the distraction and gallantly conclude that she' is in love. When a tough-.looking truck driver gazes long and, ardently at, the, wedding rings in.: Findlay~- S~auss',, the, p~ss~rs-by diagnose the case immediately.:~And they do the same when they see a pair of very blue and ~¢ery feminine eyes frowningly appraise ~the pipes or belts in. Wanama.kers. But ~hen.~you,;se~ a pretty little high-school girl ?r .a bent.old man kneeling in'ardent prayer before the tabernacle, you can be quite certain that tl~e judgment of worldly ones will be far less indulgent. Instead of sayifig, "She is in love," or, "He. i.s in 10ve"~as indeed they r~ally are the,modern pagan, if such a one were present; wou.ld be more apt to remark, "She's just a kid. She'll be all right in a couple of years. We all do crazy things when we're young.'L Or, "He's in need of a good rest. Ever since, he lost his wife he's been acting odd." 295 RICHARD LEO HEPPLER Review for Religious So it starts to become obvious that the modern worldly person disagrees witl~ the saint on' the meaning of the saying "Love makes the world go 'round" because the former believes only in l~uman love, ahd he is ~interested only in ~t/~is world. Whereas the saint knows that human love is not the only, nor indeed the highest, love; .just as he believes that thi~ is not" the only, .nor indeed'th~ be~t, World, He knbws that there is a love unass~o~iated-With cupids and V'alentines which ~uni~es him not°fo~ human beings but to 'God Himself. He believes that ther~ exists a world where not television butthe ~beatific vision ~is the reward :of the:blessed. Hence the saint really ~ believes that 10ve mhk~s the world go 'round~ because God is love, and aroundHiin all things rotate: Once we understand the deeper spiritual truth behind the saying "Love m~kes 'th~ world' go 'round," we are well on our way to discovering" one c~f the great ~ecrets of tile ~saints. " Unlike the truly wordly person, the saints fell in love with God;zbut, unlike us, they resolutely insisted upon staying in love with Him. Falling in love is.not difficult for ~most of us, but staying in love calls for a stag-g~ ring amount of generosity arid sacrifice~ To fall in love with'~Jesus Christ is a very flattering experience; to stay in°love with Him is s6metimes' nothing short of martyrdom. H~ive'.you ever noticed howT, the determination to stay in love ~i~h" Jes~s" Christ is common tb all the s/tints; while calling for differeht reaction~ in each? The determination to stay in love with God mad St~ Paul'el0quenf while it caused St. Joseph to be silent: it impelled St. F~ancis to .preach ~tb the Si~Itan',of E~ypt and ~t. Peter Claver fo. minister ~o the" slaves; it inspired~St. Augu.~tine to take up hi~ ~en and' St. Dida~us t0~ take~ u13' hiss'shovel; it drove St. Fran~is"Xavier' to Indi~"aia-d it~ drove the Little iFlov>er to~.the cloister. '. ~ - ~ " . We religious conside~ OurselVes the .friends, follow_ers, ~and~lover~ ~f 6esus, Christ, and both .~h~ w6°rld and the Church,' recogniz~e us as such. Our vocation is ,.n~ot~ merely to fall in'love with Jesus Christ; it is to stay in love with Him. Andstaying inlove ~ith Jesus Christ entails much more than _saying, ".Lord, Lord." It ~meansl being faithful to'our pr.omises to :try to °become more and more Christlike; it means exerting a conscious effort to grow in holiness; it means the constant ~¢illingness to force ourselves tb do the will of God no matter how hard it may be. Staying in love with Jesus Christ means trying" to use each day November, 1948 ON STAYING IN LOVE of our spiritual lives'as if we re~illy ~were :in love. ,It includes sudh thinl~s as getting out of bed promptly: trying to make a~good, pdrsonal,"practical meditation: ~putting our hearts,and souls into our Mass and, Holy Cdmmuniofi; trying to banish distractionsfrom our prayeis; carr~;ing"out our appointed tasks well; making an~effort, to preserve thee spirit 6f-recollection by such means as ,ejacu!atory prayer: being cheerful: charitable, and "co~operative at/community recreation: observing the prescribed silence: a'nd 'so on., ,-It means that ,we sincer~l~r try to ,make 2esusrChrist the King and Centei~ of our lives by,livifig"ouk ever~y thohght, word, and deed. for Him. Staying in lo~re with°Jesus~ Christ means tr)~ingo to be ~ satisfied with our l~t whatever it alay be. A cheerful,'morik in. the/days of old used to add privately to his litan)~, "From dissatisfied brethren, deliver us O Lo~d." Only a few Of us might be,willing to spend' long dull hours studying Sanskrit,, but almost all_of us would prefer that to a half hour each day~ with ~perpetually dissatisfied religious. We expect tragic figures':t0 su!k~t.hrough our literature just.a.s we expect spoiled children to pout on our city streets, but it is a!ways disap-pbinting to find them in the convent or ~the,monastery. Perhaps~ Lhe dissatisfied religious, was once a lover 9f Jesus ~Christ and gave~ gre.at promise of. advancing in perfection. Maybe°she who now~. complains about the regular weekly appearance_s of~,the same dessert and the cheap material of her-new habit--maybe she as a novic~ once delighted .in giving~up ,her,~cake: and° ~may.be .she ~s~iled upon her mended habit as upon a regal gown.,,It is true thaLdufing.the passage of the years the glamor of the profession ceremony does wear off. The flowers and the music and the incense and the candlelight fade. But-we must not let the similarity between our profession and the Three Hours Agony fade. Of course, it is not always easy to be content with our lot. It is not always,easy to teach French when.we feel more inclined to decorate the chapel or to fill prescriptions' or to type reports. It ~s n~t easy, to be cohten.ted when ~we are placed under temperamental, suspicious, orodownright unfair;i~up~eriors. It is always easy~ to be contented when you'have to. live with ~a religious who considers himself a necessary and an it/fallible afldition .to ~our conscience. NO, it isn't always ea's~ to try ~o be.~atisfied with our lot; but staying in love with Jesus Christ requires that-,w¢ try to be satisfied for His sake. . Staying in love~with J~sus'Christ meam refusing to fall inlove with anyone or anything else.: In modern pagan Aaierica infidelity, 297 RICHARD LEO HEPPLER like co~kfails .Before diniaer~:is taken~ for granted: ,We°might be ihclined ~tb_censure rather ,segerely the~marital ad, vent,ures, of, our Holly.whorl actbrs and adtresses Without realizing that we, too can,be unfaithful.-sand we arL urifaithful-to Jesus,Christ~ to,sbme extent at least,Af we permit 0~r~'affe~tions t6 become,so strongly.-,attache~ to any ~erson or thing as to deprive ~ Him ~ of the fulldove we have promised: ~ We odce vowed that the" 0nly,tfiangles ia our lives would be~in our geometr~ classes." Hehc~:we cannbt afford to bec6me so inter~ite~ in an6~her person or in Chaucer or in the Rh factor or in a new'arrangement of Panis An~elicos or in the recipe: for baked Alaska or Charlie'McCarthy that we lose interest in' growing i~ holiness. If We seftle for~ h :divided service we are fair-weather- friends of 2esus, not lovers:~ :Then'religious life ~bddo~ds-moaotonous: then it is easy to criticize the c0~munity or the ~uperior; then fickleness and, shal-lowness tak~ theplace of faith a~d humility. Th~ ~esolhte~ religioui Who i~ determined to stay in love with 2esus,Christ,comes tff~arn that 16v~ does make the world go 'round. He Will ~a~ to' persist in tryin~ ~o live each:day of his spirithal life to thi best 0f his 'ability in'~r~of 0f"~is love for:JeSus",Christ. H~'~ill ha~e t6 try to b~' sati~fie'd :Gith his lbt sinc~ that i~wh~'deiu~,~wants. H'e: Will ende~v6r'~6 be;~ffii~hfhl to ~i~ love for 3eshs~:nd ~atter~ what S~dr~e that' dfit~ils:" Hd will not let routine ~hi11 his qove, riot sick~ ~dss enfdebl~ iL Uor~arthlg ~ttrac~ibn~ devitaliz~ it: nbi time:dimAt: Is~t any wonder t~?t---he-,can Under~tand: the~.rttue meaning :of ;fhe ~h~ih'g; '~d~ :~'~ke~the ~wbrld . Whoever. delights' ~E,gieat 'hteratu~e ~fll"~welcome" the; ne~ edition wor~; of. Jo~.-He~=tIewm~n, no~. Ieiag:~IuIlished: t~. kongmans }i~r~n, ind Company, ~e~ $otk.,~,Itti~ the purpose o~ this edmon "to. p~owde,~Ioth for the general reader and ~e stnI¢nt, the latest and Iest texts ,of those works which b~d fai~ t6 s(ind th~ otfe'stt~'me ,'"- as.'.w.e.l.l .a.s. .t.o".p.r.e.s.en.t. .a.n.ew~ ce"r"tain of'hii:W'6rks.which have primarily a,histofic~l interesti,'but which:mus~ be reador cohsu~ted_iLt~e ~ish~ to ~understand the mang~faceted mind of the author." Thiee volumes appeared in 1947 :. APOL~IA PRO VITA SUA (pp. xx~ti + 400), A GRA~R dF' Ass~' (pp. xxii' + "39~) ~ 13). ~ui" fh~ ifi ~ 1:948~ three~ vdlumes ~of' ESSAYS' AND ~SKETCHES (pp. x¢iii"+ 382; x~ + 368; xvi + 381) have been published. ~g,it~d~nt~ng ~e~eral . reader will find the introductions helpful to, a,,complete.,understanding of,the~ text. EaCh ¢olnme ~ pr6vlded with "an ifidel i:hd 'gs pri~ gt S~'.5"0. T~ do,plead set is to'~ohlist" of nineteen volumes. 298 . On the Du y: [?.ovln9 {:he , ble ghbor Especially ['N'~LA~ING'"t~ gefle~al prffep[ 'of ffatdnal chanty, "thee: [ log~ans ~sually call attentmn to the fact ,that thts duty includes = " ft :nlighb S)ff;"~'eve~ ~nemi~s; n~vertBel~is; ' b~caus~" Hi.self saw fit to voxce a sp~c,al precept regarding the love of ene-mies and because this duty has speciai g[~ulties, the m6ral theology usually.include an exphc~t t?eat~eht of ~h~.2dUty.of io¢ifig enemiesi' "~he~e~tre~fises £ontain much'that~is ~prac~icaF not only for tBe ordinary Cathohc'but also for rehg~ous. ~ge purpose f t~e present~ notes ~s" to outhne'tbe'commo~lg ac~e~ted teacBing on~ the duW of loving ones neighbor;-parucularly-one s~ enemies, and to comment more m detail-on points.that seem~ to .de of espmally prac-tical value to religious. "'~" ~.~ .:~,. ,:~,, ~ 2, !., THE ,GENE~L PRECEPT.OF CHARI~ : There ar~ many specifictd~ties of fzaternal .tharity:,, for,~example, ¯ al~sgiving,, fraternal correction, ~ the~'avoidance: eL scandal ~ ~nd :0f c0-operation~ini-another~s.sin, and t~e~love~of, enemies~': But;all these dUties~ar~ derived ,from the general .precept .of. fraternal charity, ~which ma~ be~bNeflF'st~ted as follbws: Bg~ diai~e ~receOt, ~ must 1oo~. all d~ ffei~hbori wit~ ,'t~e ;/6ve~ of cfiarif~ ; and, tfiis ~dut~, :ext~Ods~ to thougMs;, words; and deeds. 1 A .briefl explanation ofithis, genera[ law maycontain, a -number" of ~helpful, points ~and :will !eag~-;t~g gro¢~d for as,more~detiiled consideration of the-'command to.~love~9~g~ enemies;. :,~: .~;. ~ ~. ~,. : .~ " ., . ".~ ~ " ~hari~ i~ a~ spatial kind of love, a supernatural love which is d~)etted primaril7 to clod. BE 'charity we love GOd because, as ~e know H~m through faith, He is infinitely ~ort~y of love. Genuine chanty towards the neighbor is also a love for God because the neighbor, as known through faith, shares in d/sfincfi~l~ divine perfections, fo~ ex~p! , the divi~e-lffN of grace and the divine destiny of seeing God face to face. - ., ,, ,, -- Itfis important to note that fraternal .cha'ri~) rake's its ~otiv~'from .299 GERALD KELLY Review for Relioious faith; it sees the neighbor through the eyes of faith. Through faith we know ~hat ~the.'neighb0r igarticipates, Or is called to participate, in the divine life of grace; that he is destined for .the beatific vision; that Christ has identified Himsdf with the neighbor: that the exemplar of true fraternal charity is Christ Himself; that Christ has told us to love ou'r neighbor as He has loved us; that we are all united through Christ in God: and so forth. Because of the supernatural bond by which God unites men to Himself, we love one an6ther "~vith the same kind of love with which we lo~ve God--theological dharity. Fraternal ~harity, therefore, is immeasurably superioriv all merely natural love, even the noblest. I might mention here that there is no necessary conflict.between natural~love and charity. A man's good qualities can be recognized by reason, and he can be r~asonably and nobly loved for these. And such reasonabl.e love can easily be supernaturaliFed and ~ absorbed, so to speak, in the greater love of charity when we see the neighbo.r's lovable.qualities as reflections of the divin~ goodness . Who is my Neighbor? In answering the lawyei's question Witfi the parable of the Good Samaritan; Our Lord did-not wish tb say .that the priest and the levite who scorned th'e afflicted man were not really his.~neigh. bors; rather, He wished to"bring out graphically .the~fact that the orily ;one o who " really, acted:'like~ a neighbor .; was ,;the foreigner, the Samaritan', who b0i~nd up his,°wound~' ,and 'supplied his needs. Christiaxt otradi'tioti, v~hich i~" the best interpreter~of. Our.0Lord's w0ids, has~ ahbays underst6od the,word ','neighbor',': (in the'precept "Lov~ thy~neighb6r as thyself")'t0 mean' all~ men:, ~In fact,, the word includes'~ everyone" who has a. common destiny.~-with' us: ~ men on earth, the soul~ in purgatory, the blessed in heaven, and (in:some sense) even the angels. Among rational and intelligent creatures, only the damned are excluded from the notign of neighbor, because ~heirdamnation ha~ forever severdd t.h~ fie that bound' them~ to us. All others are~ bur neighbors a~nd are obje.cts for our charity.'Ho~wever, the commandment is usually:und~rsto0d to refer particularly to men on earth. ' Tho~t~fit, Word, and Deed The commandment of love includes internal and external acts, that is, "thoughts, words, and deeds. Arid like most commandments 300 November, 1948 ON LOVING THE NEIGHBOR it has its negati~,e and its affirmative 'aspects: that is.' it,forbids certain things, and ~it. commands certain things. It ~would be impossible to Live here anything approaching a complete enumeration of the~duties of charity, because .charity is a very geneial virtue.,which affects all our attitudes towards and dealings with our neighbor. I can give here,only~ a few general rules which may help individuals in estimating their own duties as regards fraternal charity.- A negatwe rule, that is, a formula expressing what we must not do, is best expid~sed in terms of the golden rule. "S~ich a formul~ would run somewhat as fdllows: Abstain from ~11 deliberate thoughts, worlds, and actions which you think you w~uld reasonabl~r resent if you were in'your, neighbor's place. -(For a more complete explanation~' of this rule with regard tb speech, see "Notes on Detrac-tion," in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ~V, 380-'92.) -6n the affirmative side, the'kerr word i0r"°charity o'f"i thc~ught is "well-wishing." Charity is a love of benevolence, that is, of unselfish and disinterested well-wishing; hence, an internal act of fr~iternal chari~y i~ aii act of supernfiturfiI ~ell:v)isiai~ag. Such an ac~ can expressed in many g;ays: ~or example, by praying for th~ fieighbor's sa!vaSion; by rejoicing over his good f6rtun~, ~spec!ally growth.in virtue; by °so[rowing over his misfortune, especiall3i sin, and by making internal acts of reparation for the sins of o[hers; by desiring the true happiness of our neighbor; by being, prepared to relieve his needs for the love "of God; and so forth. Even. the natural compas-sion we are apt to feel for those who suffdi td~pof~l loss and"'mi~: fortune and the spontaneous joy that we feel ovdr the temporal for'turie of a frle.ndlmay bd implicitly inclfided in and supernatural-ized by charity, pr6,~ided the propersubor"d m" "atxon t~6 eternal,galues ~s not set aside. That we are°obliged to make such internal acts o~f'charity as I have just enumerated is the unhesitating teaching of Catholi~c the-ology( The Church l~as condemned the opinion that we can fulfill all our duties of charity by merely external acts. But how often mus~t we make such~ actsh To that question the best theologian cannot, give a definite answer.~ ~.AI1 _that can be said regarding the obligatipn is that such acts must be made occasionatl~l. However, though'~the obligation itself is vague as to frequency, theo-logians generally~ agree that it.is practically impossible for~one_who~is trying to lead a good Catholic life to fail in this duty. As for what 301: GERALD KELLY is advisable, all.theologians wguld surely"agree that frequent acts of o fraterrial chaHt3 should be highly recommended. .As a-matter of fact, ~the prayers that are universally recommended for daily r~cit~l contain at least two acts of fraternal charity: namely, the act of~Iove and the Our Father. Speaking of prayer for the neighbor, the question might be asked: must we pray for individual neighbors? The general la~¢ of Yharity does not. demand" this, although certain special relationships ,such as ties of blood may do so. The general law of ~chari~y is ~l~l!ed if We include all our. neighbors in our acts of love; or, to put the mat-ter in another way, it suffices if we exclude no one from those acts which, as mentioned above, must be made occasionally. Hence, a brief rule for satisfying the general precept to make~ i~nt~ernal~ acts Of fraternal charity is this: occasionally say the act of love and mean it, or say th~ Our F~ther now and then, and~excl~de no one from its petitions. s~rhat about words~and deeds that is, when are we obiiged to manifest our love for our. neighbor by speech and action? "['lie key word here is "need"; and a brief rule epito.mizing our duties to per-form external acts of charity may be stated thus: I am obliged to help my neighbor (corporally or spiritually) when he'really needs my help and when I can give tl~e help without a proportionate incon-venience to ,myself. It should be noted that this rule expresses only the Christian minimum, namely the duty under pain of sin of performing the works, of mercy. The Christian ideal, which was Christ's glory and which has ever been the Church's glory, goes much higher and helps the needy even to the point of utter selflessness and heroism. (Noth: As re~a~rds the external manifesthtion of. charity, theo-logians usually lay great stress on the necessity of showiii~g what they call "the common signs of good will." The explanation' of this matter is best reserved for the section of these r~otes d~aling with the love of enemies~) ,~, The Diolne Command The jottings contained in, the previous paragraphs explain the meaning and the extent of th~ gei~eral law of fraternal charity. ,To complete them we might ask and answer the question; "Why must we love one another?" ,The ~nswer is derived from both reason and faith. 302" November, 19~ 8 ON LOVING THE NEIGHBOR ',h'Reason~tells u~s that, even~iiGod' h~d~n0t ~aihed.man to :~ super.; natur~l', status, we, shotild have some obligation-to love one~, ari0ther-; for even in the natural order,'men~ would be unitdd by,'a common n~ture ,and. ,a common d~stiny. :,' Moreover, being, social ~by ,n~ature, they Would'have t6 live, and work, a~nd re'create together." ~Bec~use ~f these ~facts,,° th~ n~ttiral ihw itself, which, is perceived by reason, calls for some love: an'd~ finion, esp~cially for ~the wellLbein~-of hulnah hature: th~it il, that men may ~livd ~ogether ~ith that degree of hai~= m6ny which is really helpft;1; t-o "the attainment~ of their purpos~ on earth. . - AS a matter of fact, we do not live in a purely natural order: Through faith we know that God has givd~a u,~ ~ Share'in His own life (sanctifying grace) and the destiny of sharing in His'own~ hap-piness (the beatific vision)"~ We enjoy an entirely special union witli God in Christ; and the necessary preservative of this union~is charity. Scriptural texts on fraternal charity can be multiplied .almost without end. (Cf. for example, "The 'New Commandment' of Love," by Matthew Germing, S.J., in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, I, 327-37.) -Some of these texts are, it seems, merely counsels, but many of them evidently state a real precept to love the neighbor. Our Lord referred to fraternal Charity as the second grdat command-ment (Mt. 22:39); and St. John said, :'This commandment we have from God, that he who loves God must also love his ne.igh-~ bor" (I John 4:2I). As regards external charity in particular, the clas~sic ~exts are the account of the Last Judgment (cf. Mt. 25:42), in which Our Lord clearly indicates that the attainment of salvation will depend on helping the needy, and the strong words of St. John: "He that hath the substance of this world, and shall see his brother in need, and shall' s~ut'~up his bowel.s from him: how cloth the charity of God abide in him?" ('I. John 3: 17-18). II.-THE LOVE OF ENEMIES That the love of enemies is included in the precept of chari~y and is in some sense a special sign of the true follower of Christ is indicated by Our Lord's words: "But I say to you, love your enemies: do good to them that hate you; and pray for them that persecute and calum-niate you: That you may be the children of your Father who is in heaven, who maketh his sun to rise upon the good, and bad, and raineth upon:the just and the unjust. For'~f you lord them that love 303 GERALD KELLY Revle~b for Religious you, what reward, shall you have? Do not even ~he publicans this? And if you salute your brethren only, what do" you more? Do not also the heathens this." (TvIt. 5 : 44-47.) Many other texts of Scripture have a similar.meaning; even the Old Testament has some beautiful passages on the love of enemies and some moving examples of forgiveness. That forgiveness in par-ticular is enjoined on us is apparent from the Our Eather and from Our Lord's ans@er to Peter, which He illustrated with the story of the unforgiving servant and which He concluded, with the strong words, "So also shall my heavenly Father do to you [namely, deliver over to the torturers], if you forgive not everyone his brother from your hearts" (Mr. 18:35). This divine precept is clearl.y in accord with man's social nature. We are all prone to offend; and if it were permissible to nourish hatred and a spirit of revenge and to deny pardon, progressive_ social peace would be extremely difficult, even impossible. One needs.only to glance at history to see the disastrous effects that inevitably flow from hatred and revenge. Miscellaneous Observations Who is my enemy? In its primary meaning the term refers to anyone who has offended me, whether by causing me needless sot-row, or by insulting me, or by c~ausing me some harm such a~ a bodily injury, a loss of reputation, or property damage. In a wider sense, my enemy is anyone who dislikes me, or anyone whom I dis-like- or for whom I feel an aversion, "The principles of moral the-ology which will be explained in this section refer mainly to an enemy in the primary sense: but they also apply, and with even greater force, to an enemy in the secondary,meaniong of the ,word. We are not bound to love enemies because they are enemies but in spite of the fact that they are enemies. In Other words," enemies should be loved for the same reason that other neighbors must be loved, namely, because of the common ~ties, -natural and supernatural, that bind ,us together in God. Although thereis a special precept to love enemies, this does not normally oblige us to show them a special love: the precept simpl' insists that even enemies may not be excluded from the general duty of charity. Obviously, the precept of loving one's neighbor does no~ refer to a sensible love. Since "this kind of love is not under the free 304 Nouerober, 1948 ON LOVING THE NEIGHBOR: direction of the will, it is not even of obligation with. regard to God, parents, children, and so forth. The love prescribed is the super-natural love of internal and external benevolence. It is of partic.ular importance to keep this in mind when we are speaking of the love of enemies, because in this matter more than in most others the feelings are apt to cause trouble. Another observation of practical value: To love one's enemy is not the same as approving of his unlovable qualities. If an enemy sins, we may hate his sin and wish for his correction. If he has repulsive habits, we may, within the scope of well-ordered charity, take means to,.have him correct those habits. The precept of loving our enemies imposes upon us the same duties of thought, word, and action that were explained in the. notes dealing with the general precept. However, because of the special difficulties involved, moral treatises on the love of enemies usually lay stress on these three specific duties: (a) to put aside hatred and a desire for private and ill-ordered revenge; (b) to show the common signs of good will; (c~ .and to do what is required to bring about a reconciliation. Hatred and Revenge I have read many treatises on hatred: and my candid impression is that the more lengthy they are the more confusing they become. I- will content myself, 'therefore, with saying that a good practical definition of hatred is to wish one's neighbor an evil that is not duly subordinated to some good. It is certainly hatred, therefore, to wish an enemy spiritual harm: for example, that he will remain in sin, that he will lose his soul, and so forth; for such harm cannot be. properly subordinated to any good. Theoretically, it is not hatred to wish someone a temporal evil for his own good: for example, to wish him sickness or financial misfortune as a means of reforming him. But theologians wisely caution against fostering such thoughts, as they can readily be a form of self-deception when they concern those we dislike. Revenge. is punishment for an offense committed. Ordinarily speaking, revenge belongs to one in authority, and it is wrong for private individuals to take or to plan to take revenge. However, theologians reasonably consider that this rule admits of exceptions in minor matters: for example, a boy might justly punish another boy for insulting his sister. 305, GERALD KELLY' Revieu~ for Religious ~ : :Insofar as~,,punishment /nay be justly inflicted for offenses, it is permissible-to wi~h that such punishment be visited upon.an enemy. Btit~ dweiling on" sUChothoughts is dangerous; because it can easily develo15 an, unfgr~giving spirit, and e~en lead tb unreasonable desires of punishment. ,~ ~ ~: After suffering an offense, we usually feel '(all hot inside,",and our imaginations conjure up many evils that we should like to inflict or to have inflicted on our,offenders. In themselves,~ these thoughts are spontaneous and involuntary~ and are therefore isinless.~ They become sins' 6f hatred and revenge only when they ~are deliberate and' when they include the wishing of unjustifiable, evil to our enemy. HoweveL :the protracted' bro6ding over offenses or over the bad qualities of hn,~enefiay, even when no actual evil is desired; is a danger-. 6u's pastime. ~At, the very least, it disturbs digestion and of coarse,. it makes it all the more. difficult to fu!fi11 our external duties to our enemies. The Common Signs. A second duty that calls for particular consideration when ene-mies are concerned is that of showing "the common signs of good will." By these common signs are meant the little courtesies that are ordinarily shown toall men, or at~least to all o~ a certain!' group : for example, to return a greeting, to answer a question, to buy and 'sell' in a public store; to reply to'letters, to tip the hat to ladies, to show some sign~of respect to superiors, to help one who is in'need, and so ¯ forth. The idea ,here which seems so obvious that it is difficult ,to express in words--is that such courtesies are not normally reserved to one's intimate fiiends but are extended to our neighbors because they~ are fellow-citizens, fellow-students, fellow.workmen, and 'the like. Ih a word, these common signs are different from the kindnesses and attenti6ns that are nbrmally shown only to one's friends~: for example, to invit~ them to dinner, to have them as guests over the week'-end, to confide secrets, to carry on an intimate correspondence, to visit them when'i~he~r are ill, and So forth.: Tgese latter 'a~e ~lled' special °Signs of good will: precisely becaUSe they generally indicate some, relation'ship which i~ especialiy~ int!mate. . '~The' principle t6 be,kept in mind here is this:' weare'~0tdinarily" 0blig~d ~to Show' th~ e6mmish~i~ns of g6od~vcill"e~en'to our enemies;-; th~'speciifl s~gns~may generally be reserved f6r'friends. ~ In stating the rule I designedly used the words: ,"ordinarily'" and 306 November, 1948 ON LOVING THE NEIGHBOR "generally" because exceptional circumstances may demand that even the special signs be shown to one's enemy or may, 6n the other hand, warrant at least the temporary withholdiiag of the common signs. For example, to invite one to dinner is normally taken as a special sign of benevolence: yet if dohn gives a party for "all the members of his class," ,he is not at liberty tO exclude a classmate who is his enemy. He must, in this case, invite even the enemy, unless one of the excusing causes to be mentioned later is present. And the shme is to be said for Mary if she gives a dinner for "all the,girls at the office": and for a' religious who is~{n the habit of visiting "all who are in the infirmary." In such cases the special favors (inviting to dinner, visiting the sick) become to some extent common because they are extended to a certain group. If one's enemy belongs to this group, the common courtesy must be extended to him too unless special reasons, to be indicated later, excuse one from this obligation. On some occasions, therefore, we must extend special favors even to our enemies. This is an exception to the general rule. And the general rule that common signs must be shown the enemy also admits of,exceptions. However, it is one thing to state that this rule admits of exceptions;, it is quite another to formulate a reasonable policy that Will govern the exceptional cases. I will give here some examples of cases in which the denial of these signs is considered reasonable: and after studying these examples we may be able to formulate a general principle that,can be appii~d to all cases. The examples given here are culled from various manuals of moral theology. Everyone has a right, to protect himself against mistreatment by others. Hence, in the event that a fellow-religious is constantly indulging in a disagreeable form of teasing, ridicule, or rudeness, I may certainly defend myself by denying him ordinary courtesies until he mends his ways. ,For example, I might refuse to speak to him, or refuse to do a favor that I would ordinarily do for others, if such refusals were merely to show him that his conduct is painful and disagreeable and that I wish him to desist. Superiors have the power within reasonable limits to punish their subjects. It is generally considered as within their punitive power to temporarily" deny common courtesies to subjects who ,have given offense. ~Some authors tl~ink that in minor matters even equali may resort to this method of reasonably punishing another equal who has offended them., In other words, they consider that the' hurt feelings that might be induced by temporary coldness and aloofness 307 GERALD KELLY. Ret~ietv for Religious would be a ~just i~unishr~ent.for 'the offender-~and the tyi~e; of 15un-ishm~ nt that Would.be within the,, rights .of :private~individtials. Another reasonthat,"justifi~s a ~temporary exterior, coldness towards an offender"is the, well-founded hope ~that, such treatment will bringhim,to" a better frame of mind. 1 This is different from and in :a .higtier i~rder th~n me're °Jpunishment ~ven when'ijustl~ inflicted., , There ~is~ the, problem of embarrassment. ;For a ,short¢,time after ,a qilarreF people ,usuhlly, feel ~e±tremel~i embarrassed,~in, each other's ,pres.ence. I~Avoidance*0f this mutual embarrassment would be'a sufficie.ni [eason fbr temporarily keeping away from: an en'emy,, even though that:might mean" the omissions, of one of)the,Common signs, of, gobd will. For example, suppose that ifi a (ert'ain conih munity it is c'us'tomary for the "religio.us to take turns visiting the, sick during recreati6n." In this,case,'visiting the sick is a common sign'o~ good v~ill~ in,'that~, community_-~that 'is, ' a~" kindhess shown iridis.: criminately to, all, the members of.the community who are ill;~,~)But su~pl~ose" that two of the religious have recentl~r qu~reled,,~ and one then'i is n6w in the irifirmary and it is the other's turn to ~visit him. It might~be.th~t.consideration for the, sick would e~cuse the second religious from, making the visit. "Of course, the ideal thing Would be for both to forget it arid for the visit to take place just"as if there had been no quarrel; ,ne~,~rtheless, if the second religious honestly con, ~idered that the visit would be embarrassing and a source of annoy-° ance to,the sick, person,'he would be justified in o/hitting it. Some people say that;they avoid their, enemy and do not speak to him or show him other ,signs of benevolence because they fear that this,,will-lead' to afiother"quarrel, or that the enemy will ptit~, a sinister ihterpretation on 'their actions and use these as an occasion for~ offering fukther offensev'~Granted that the fear of these evils is, a well-founded one, this is certainly a sufficient reason for omitting the customary expressions of good:will. Of'course, such fearsare'~often groundless;~ but if one has really attempted to establish amicable relations.with another and has met only with~,coldness or sharpness, theie is tainly ~nb obligation'to continue tl~e fruitless endeavor.,.In shch a'case the ,fault is all, o/~ one side. ¯ . -" Unfortunaiely, even in religion there are sour-minded indi-viduals; who~refuse'to get alohg With others, who cause great pain" too fellow-religioug~who Wish 'to be courteous~ and,,~cho, egpecially in, a small 'house~, are ;veritable thorns in the side of, the community. How they ju~tifysuch conduct is somewhat of a mystery. ~ 308 November, 1948 ON LOVING THE' NEIgHBoR °" qn the case just considered the obsta~ie to fraternal ,hi~rmony was only one party. What of the case of two religions, members of thee same ;community, who, Stbongl~ dislike" each bther an'd "either impli~itly'fi~xplicitly agree to bav~ nothing to do with ehch oth~er? Are they justified by mutual agreement .in failing to show' to'~eacl'i other the common~,:courtefies~such as speaking to each other? To answer th~s' question, I must.sel~arate the points that are clear, fron~whi~t is'uhcl~ar. The following points are cl(ar: First, both beligi6"~s:aie '~ertai'fily obliged.~o abstain from what has previously be~n d~scribed as internal hatred. Sec~)ndly, each is'obliged~o be wiHin~ t0'~ extei~d f6 the %ther any spiritfial dr temp6ral ~Ip that" might l~e,0f c~blig~itibn according to the rules of well-,orderedcharity. Thirdly " and this is, i~'seems t6 me, all-importan( in community life both a÷e 6bilged to see that the communit~y d6~s no~ suffer because of their mutual e~strarigement policy. If they are members of a:small community it'i~'pr~adtlC~H~ im'posbible for them to cairy 'out their program without catising~'much embarrassment~ and inconveni-ence to the other members of the community. Finally, both are obliged to see that their mutual coldness "gives no scandal to externs. People naturally and" justifiably expect to see religious live together in harmony and, if they-no~ice a lack of harmony, their esteem of the religious life is considerabl.y lowered. Suppose that all the evils just mentioned ~ould be avoided, would the mutual estrangement policy still' ~be sinful? The answer is not clear to me. However, even if such a situation is not sinful, it is at most "tolerable" that is, it could be tolerated .as a means of avoiding greater evils that might, result from the mutual association of two ire'mature chabacters. That "the situatioh is not ideal, and that 'it is~ at variance with the spirit of Christ, seems, quite clear. Moreover,~"th~ anomaly of the"situation becomes even more glaring mwohse'ntc ohna.er m~ionngs icdoeurrste hsyo wto othftoesne bwuhsoimne tshse m~ ednis laikned. w'Tohmis esne eemxste.n tdo tbhe~ one case in which the. children of this world are wiser than the chil-dren of light; the former can do for mere worldly gain ~hat the latter will not do for the love of Christ. ~What has bee.n, said about mutual estrangement among religious is equally ,applicable to similar situations among families or among othe_r groups living ,in common. And it should be remembered~that the smaller the group and the more closely the lives touch one 309 GERALD KELLY Review for Religious another, the more dif[icult, it is to justify the mutual es.trangement policy. We are now in a position to sum up the doctrine concerning the duty~ of showing the common signs of benevolence.~ The ordinary rule is that these courtesies must be extended even to enemies because, being common signs, they simply express externally our recognition of a bond which unites the group and all the members of the group. In other words, they are extended to others as fellow-men, fellow-citizens, fellow-religious, and so forth. To omit such courtesies without~good reason is usually a manifestation of ill will, of a lack of forgiveness, and even a sign of contempt; and because of these things, the omission of the courtesies readily wounds the feelings of the enemy and is a source og scandal to others. However, t.hey may (and occasionally should) be omitted at least for a time, for some greater good .(such as the correction of an offender and the safe-guarding of public discipline oro private rights), and also to avoid some greater evil (such as renewed quarreling). Reconciliation The duties thus far considered refer to an enemy even in the wide sense: that is, to one who has given no offense, but who is disliked. The duty of reconciliation supposes that there has been a quarrel; hence the term "enemy" is here used in its strictest sense, namely, as one who has given offense. Each party to a quarrel is obliged to do his part to bring about a ~econciliation. The offender (that is, the one who started the quarrel) mu~t take the first step. As soon as h~ tan reasonably do so, he must in some appropriate way express that he is sorry and that he is willing to make amends. A formal apology is not always neces-sary; in fadt, it is frequently a source of embarrassment to both parties. It is often best to indicate in some indirect way that one i~ sorry. The offended party is obliged to accept the apology or its reasonable equivalent and to show that he has forgiven the offense and that~ he bears no ill will towards the offender. Such are the basic duties of offender and offended. The fol-lowing annotations may help to clarify them. Some people say, "I forgive, but I cannot forget." Perhaps they mean that they have been so deeply wounded that the thoughts of the dffense keep welling up in their mind and bring with them feelings of.rancor. As I have already pointed out, such thoughts are 31.0 November, 1948 ON LOVING THE NEIGHBOR" no indication Of ~in; and therefore the}" do not indicate a"lack Of forgiveness. However, sdr~etim'es this expression "I tannot forget" really m~an~ "I ~vill not forget," and it indicates that there is still some deliberate ill will towards the offender. Others say, "I don't wish i11. to my offender, but I certainly clri't wish him wel~?' ThiL df course, is nonsense; for the well-wishifig of trde~ch~rity is deliberate sup~erna~ural well-wishing, the oobject of'which is the true supernatural good of the neighbor. Such well-wislii'i~g is not"impossible' for anyone. "And any one who is unwilling to cultivate such good will.has not really forgiven his offender: Foi~giveness of an offense does not mean the waiving of the right to rep~irati0n for harm don~.' If an o~ffen~h has harmed n~y reputa-tioia° or caused me property loss, I ah~ not ~nforgiving merely because I insist that the harm to reputation or proRerty be repaired. Al~o, forgiveness is compatible withr insistence on a just punishment for an offense; for even God inflicts 'punishments after~ having forgiven an offense. However, when human beings insist on punishment after exiaressing forgiveness, theymust remember that they are not °God and that their motives migh~t be suspect. For instance, if a fellow-religious offends me and then sincerely expresses his sorrow, and I still insist on revealing the matter to, the superior so that my offender may be ~unished, it is quite likely that my forgiveness is not whole-hearted. The foregoing observations indicate, at least in a vague sort oL way, what forgiveness is not. But what is it? Real forgiveness seems, to reduce itself to this: a sincere wil.lingness to restore the bond that existed before the quarrel, insofar as that is reasonably possible. But what if the bond was an ~ntimate friendship? Moralists usually say that there is no strigt obligation for the offended party to re-admit his offender t6 such intimacy. They say that since intimate friend-ship is s.omething to which no one has a claim, the restoration of such friendship can hardly be urged as an obligation. The strittoobliga-, tion, therefore, is usually satisfied when the offender is given those' marks of charity that have previously been described as common. The statement that forgiveness does not demand the re-establish-ment of an i~itimate friendship can be misleading. It seems to me that each case must be judged according to its own circumstances; and certainly there are occasions when the refusal to re-establish an GERALD KELLY intimate friendship after one quarrel (and perhaps a trifling one) is unreasonable, as' well as un-Christlike. However, if even a trifling quarrel is sufficient to undermine the confidence of the offended party in his offending friend, perhaps it is just as well that the friendship cease. When should .the first step towards reconciliation be taken? Moralists wisely suggest that it is generally expecting too much of an offended person to ask him to be reconciled immediately after a quarrel. He is entitled to a "cooling off" period. Normally this need riot be long; but the offender is justified in postponing his expression of sorrow until what seems to be an opportune time. In many quarrels it is difficult to determine who was the first offender; both exploded more or less simt~Itaneously. Theologians solve this one by saying that the one who committed the more serious offense has the duty of taking the first step towards recon-ciliation. However, it must be admitted that this rule is also hard to apply~becau~e, at least in the eyes of the participants of thequarrel, the Other party seems generally the more guilty. As a matter of fact, daily experience sliows us that no sit of merely mechanical rules concerning the duties of offender and offended is perfectly s.atisfactory. The only really satisfactory solu-tion to the difficulties that follow upon quarrels is that each party should be willing to take the initiative in reconciliation. After all, most of the difficulty for both parties is embarrassment. Frequently both want to make up, yet each is afraid to take the first step; and unfortunateIy this mutual embarrassment can lead to long and pain-ful estrangements that could have been settled in a moment by a Christlike attitude and a sense of humor. And I believe we can conclude this article on the same note. In the body of the article, I have outlined the duties of loving the neighbor. It is well for everyone to know these and fulfill them. But it is also well to note that the~e state a minimum. The Chris-tian ideal, which is certainly the religious ideal, is to strive each day for perfect fulfilment of Our Lord's words: "Love one another as I have loved you." 312 The-Docl:rine ot: John oJ: :he Cross J. E. Breunig, S.J. ASHORT TIME after St. Teresa met the two men who .were to found the Order of Discalced Carmelites,,,~he descriptively announced to the nuns during recreation:Ihave found a monk and a half." The half-monk was John of the Cross, just five-feet- two in his sandals. On another occasion she wrote of him in a letter: "'El cbicO is small in stature but he is great in God's ~yes." The little Carmelite lived in Spain during the last half of the sixteenth century. In spite of his physical limitations he made a success of his life. He was canonized by Benedict XIII in 172'6 ~hd"twb cen~turi~s la~er in 1926 Plus XI declared him a Doctor of the Universal Church. By conferring her doctorate on St. John, all of whose works are on mystical theology, the Church not only shows her esteem for mystical studies and puts her stamp of approval on the saint's works, but also points to the cultivation of the supernatural as a remedy against excessive naturalism. The recent, doctor's cap makes John a saint of our own day, while the title, Doctor Of the Universal Church, seems to indicate that his doctrine is not just for his Carmelite breth-ren (and sisters) but for the world. To appreciate the elevation of mystical theology w.e might com-pare it with philosophy and dogmatic theology. With reason alone man can arrived at natural wisdom. With reason and faith he can advance worlds beyond to theological wisdom. With faith and the divine operations of God within the soul, man can attain mystical wisdom, a knowledge different in kind and immeasurably higher in degree. As Aristotle is surpassed by Aquinas, St, Thomas Aquinas in his writings is, in a way, eclipsed by. St. 2ohn 6f the Cross. We might pause here to recall that the mystical life is a super-natural state above the ordinary life of faith and below the beatific vision. Since mystery is inseparable from~'~the supernatural;~ the wonder is not that the mystical life is fraught with mystery. The wonder is rather that~the genius of John of the Cross is able to pene-trate into the deep things of God and trace for us the divine action in the generous soul almost from the time of the infusion of sanctifying 313 ¯ J. E. BREUNIG Reoieto for RUi~lions grace until it reaches~ the highest state possible to man, the trans- 'forming umon,,:a ~half-step from the beattfic umon. Two qualifications-psepared John for his delicate analysis and d~cription of"th~:div'i~e~perai'ions. He was a teacher and he was a m~ ystkc. As a teacher he possessed that mark of genius that Aristotle calls' thd "~iftg6f metaphor." In other words, he knew how to explain. There is hardly a page in his ~writings that is not illumined by. an~ apt ,dlustrat~on that ~bnngs,out. the heart of the. matter. As a mysti6he practiced and experienced what he taught. Enduring trials and humdlatmns, 2ofin lieed an~,intense life of prayer, self-denial, add hard work. In return, God raised him to higher states of prayer, where after more interior suffering he attained the highest union. 'He climbed every inch of the bare rock of Mt. Carmel before he wrote. He experienced the dark night of the soul and the living flame of love before he described-them. ~t is one thing to have a taste'for great literature, quite another to undhrstand what makes it great, and still a third to write great litera-ture. According to St. Teresa, there is a similar threefold gift in mysticism. To be raised to a higher form of prayeris'~0ne gift. To understand the delicate divine movements is another, while a third and greater gift is the ability to describe these states of soul. Like Teresa, St. :John of 'the "Cross possessed all three gifts in a high de~rde.~ Besides, he was able:to express his thought~ ,in'language tha~ does not blush when placed among the masterpieces of Spgin's Golden Age. " "John ~6f th~ Cros~ ~trace§~ the "cou~e of the' divin~-~3i~erations Within the soul, describing the growth of the marvelous friendship between the soul and God. He does this in four books which together equal less than a thousand pages. Briefly, the books treat of the summits of love and of, the' path that leads there. Two books, The Ascent of Mount Carmel and The Dark Nigl~t oF the Soul; point out the path. The other two, The Spiritual Canticle and The Livin9 Flame o~ Love, describe the summit. In reality, all four bobkd develop a single theme. The books that tell of the via ad, such as The ,Ascent, briefly but explicitly describe the summit, the terminus. On the other hand, The Livin~j Flame, while speaking, primarily of ¯ the~ terminus,-repeats the lessons of the via ad. John has ~/ single theme: complete union with God ,is the fruit of absolute renunciation of self. ~ "He that loses his life shall save it." In his own words: "I(i's irripossible, if the soul does as much as in it 314 November° 1948 THE DOCTRINE OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS . lies, that,God should fail to.perform His o~n part by communicating Himself to the soul. It is more impossible than that'the sun should fail to shine in a serene and uncloudeff sky: for as the sun when it rises in th~ morning will enteroyour house if you open the shutter, even so ;~ill God~ Who sleeps n6vin keeping Islael, still less slumbers, enter the soul that is empty and fill it with Divine blessings. God, like the sun, is above our souls and.ready to dommunicate Himsel~ to thdm." (E. A. Pee~s, The'Works of St. John of, the Cross, III, 185.7 'Generally; th~ highest point-in a region willq~ive the best view of the'.surroundings. Similarly, perhaps, we can obtain "the best view of the doctrine of St, John.if.we:see the summit of Mount Carmel before w'e look at the rocky road that' leads there. In other words, we will first look where 2ohn is leading before-0~ve see how he leads~ The final:goal which the Mys[ical Doctor bf the Church ~roposes is nothing less th~an ~ transforming uhion°of,the soul'with~God. As he himself salts:. '~if the soul. attain to ~he'~last~ ~tegree,"the 16ve of God~ will succeed in wounding the sdul even in its: remotest "and deepest centre that~is, in transfor'ming and enlightening'it as regards all its being and power affd virtue, such as it is capable' of receiving, until .it be brought into such a state that it appears to be God:" (Works, III, 124.) In a ~passage~ where we seem to catch the heart,beat of God John describes the same union more at length: "As each living crea- , ~ ture lives by its operation, the soul, having its operations ~n God, through the union'it has with God, lives the life of God, and thus ¯ its death has been changed into life. For.the understanding, which bdfore this union°understood in a fiatural way with the stren.gth and vigour of its natural~light, by means of the bodily senses, is now .movedand informed-by another and. a higher principle, that of the supernatu.ral light og God, and, the senses having l~een set aside, it has thus'been changed into the Divine, for through union~its under-standing and that 6f God are now both one. And the will which' b~fore loved with its natural affection, has now been Changed in~tb "the life of Divine love; for it loves after a lofty manner with~Divihe aff~ction~-~hd is moved b,y 'the powers'and str.ength of the Holy Spirit: in whom it now li~,es the life o~ love, since, through this union, its will and His will ~ire now only one." (Works, III, 1~5.7~8:) In this high state the soul becomes aware of it~'sharing in the divine nature, the shaii~ag that it first received at the infusion of sanctifying grace. -"The flame of love is the Spirit of 'its Spouse--~' that is; the Holy Spirit. And this flame the souI.feels within it, not only as a fire that has consumed and transformed it in sweet Io,ie, but also as a fire which burns within it and sends out flame, ,:i'nd ,that flame, eacbxime that it breaks into flame, bathes ,the soul: in glory-and refreshes it with tile temper of Divine life.". (Works,~III, 1190 It seems that mystics, in some way, experience, and verify the truths we learn,in dogma, and hold by faith. In the transforming union the soul sees" in God~ all the divine attributes. "WhenHe is united to ,the soul and He is then pleased to reveal knowledge to i~, it is able to see in Him all these' virtues and grandeurs distinctly---~namely, omnipotence; wisdom and goodness, mercy and soforth., each of these attributes is a"lamp~,which gives lightxo the soul and gives it also,the heat of 10re." (Ibid., 163.) Fur-ther, 7The soul is able to see how all creatures above and below, have their life and strength and,duration in Him. And this,is, thergreat delight.of xhis awakening: to know: creatures through,Godsend riot° God through creatures.'; (Ibid., 209.) St. John sumsul5 this state: '~The_unders~tanding of the soul is now: the .understanding~of God: and its will is the will of God; and its memory is the memory of God; and its delight is the delight of God; and the Substance °of the soul, although it is not the Substance of God is nevertheless united 'and "absorbed in Him and is thus God by. participation in God, which cq.m. e,s to, pass in this perfect state of the spiritual life, .although not so perfectly as in the next life." (Ibid., 159.) - , The union in.this sublime state is~ twofol~d:~ moral and, psycho-l? gical. The~oral union is the almost pe.rfect c~onformioty ofthe human will to the divine. The psycholgg!c~al ,Enion means that the ppwers of the soul, the mind and will, ~act.in.a specific.a!ly different, s.uperhuman manner. According to St. John~ they a~ct divinely. In spite of the closeness of the union:, the Carme[ite Doctor. is always, careful to note tha~ the human and, div~ine:art distinct. He tries to s.how this in tl~e following comp, atisp~:; "He. that.: ~s:" joined" " the Lord is made one spirit with Him;.even~.,asowh'en the light of.the star,or of th~ ~n~dle is joined an.~ united with, that~of:he sun, sootha_t that which shines is not the star or the candle but th_e sun: ~which, has absorbed the other lights in itsel'~" (Work~, .II., 308):~ We would expect the road to such a loftyheight to be steep and rocky. And it i~.We sav~ that in the very highest union there were still two separate principle.s, God and the soul. The same is true for tile journey to the oheigh~s. As on the summit, so in theoascent God's . 3~16 November, 1948 THE DOCTRINE OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS action predominates; but the soul must co-bperat¢ at every step. Pre-supposing this, we can say that John of the Cro~s proposes two means togrow, inGod: absolute mortification and the contemplation of the dark night of the soul. Doctor o/: Nothing The Carmelite Doctor insists on absolute mortification, a total war on self. "The soul must be stripped of all things created, and of its own actions and abilities namely, of its understariding, liking and feeling so that, when all that is unlike God and unconformed to Him is cast out, the soul may receive the likeness of God: and nothing will then remain in it that is not the will of God and it will be transformed in God" (Works, I, 80). The classic expression of John's extreme stand is contained in the following maxims from The Ascent of Moun.t Carmel in a passage which has com~ to be called "The Canticle of the Absolute." Strive always to choose, no'~ that which is easiest, but th,at.~hich is:most difficult; ~,~ . . Not that which gives mo~t pleasure, but rather that which gives least;, .,~ ~ N~t that, which is restful, but that which is wearisome; In "order, to, arrive at having pleasure in everything, Desire to have pleasure in nothing." In,order to arrive ~t possessing everything, Desire to possess nothing. In order to arrive at,knowing ,everything,- , Desire to,knowj nothing . There are three pages of insttuctiorts s~mil~t to these (Worlts~ I, 60-63). Is it surprising that many of his .fellow Spaniards called him Doctor de, la Nada, Docf0r of Nothing? Doctor o: the Dark Night John of the Cross is also called the Doctor iof the Dar~ Night. Unfqr.tgnat.ely,.this title gives the impression~ that his dQc~tti.ne is negative. Darkness and night are not attractive words.' On the other hand, the. title, is appropriate if we take it as representing,~is most distinctive contribution to my:stical theology, There have been other doctors of.nothing. In fact, weighty tomes on mortification .are stacked high. On the other side, volumes which relate the glories of the transforming union fill the cases. 317 J. E., BREUNIG . .7 t~eoieuJ, for R~ligious However,, the. shelf devoted to the'bi[ter affd painful, side df.themys-tical life is practically empty. " ' -~ ,~ :":°.~ ~: " ;~Jbhn Ventured into this ~'~icharted 'sea, this nwman s land: ~(Per~ haps, "No God's Land" might be a bett&'.description ofothis 15eri6d.) In this particular work are revealed in a .special manner the saint's rare talents: "the precisi0n'6f hi~ psycho10gical analysis, the revealing ¯ nature" of his" cdmp~irisons, the penetration Whdr'ewi~h Be can" recog-raze t'he, w~rk of ,divine .grace developing beneath, th'( mahtler0f. :th~ m6st ~v~ned experiences ~(Fath~f~Gabri~l',bf Saint Mary M.agd.afe~', St~"Jdl~onf. th"e C~ ro"~ss , 4 ",4).- '" °' ,~ '~' best~ treatment '6f~-the dar~ nig.h{'is 4i3und"in~hi~ bool{ 6~ th{:s~fne name. Tl% darl~ night" of the s6fil is" a'sta~ o~ irifus&l' templation, aohn calls it a da~k 'nig.tjt l~'ecause, 7~aiad6xit~lly,?th{' {~hscer~d~nee'of the' idfuse~dF light blinds the unde~standi'rig.~" :'The s6"ul is lik an oivl' ih sunlight.' 'Further, this state 'is painful' the understanding ,s msufficlently~&spo{ed to re&ire Such is the general idea. John distinguishes t~6~':0~i6ds~ 'th~ night ~f" the S~n~es~ followed by a. period of ¢on~ol~tidn', an~basis;~an~ the night of t~e spirit. According to the Mystical Doctor, the nigh~ of the senses-is commonly reached by most ~souls ~who~ g~Te, themselves generously to a life of-prayer. The n~ght of the which precedes the transforming, union, is reached by fe~.~ ~. ;~ The night of the senses is"primaiily a period ~faridit~'ind~ced, not by any carelessness, but by the direct, a~fion of God.~ ~hd~ the soul gives itself generously, to prayer, it ;frequenfly~experlences sen-sible consolation. Even after this consolation ceases,Athe soul~con-tinues .t6:meditate witfi a certain,success, : Then gradunlly theFsoul ho' lon(er finds any~sa~isfactionin meditatio~-but,~ on'the contrary, finds it strangely impossible ,t6 meditate, T~e soul iscpu~zled, anxious. Through no fault of its own, it seems abandoned by God. The soul might well ~dhsider ~tself m No G3~'s Land. St. John's ge~i~ r&ognized ~hi~ state '~and~ gave all ~future spiri~ffaP dire&3~ and theol3~iafis three s"~gn~s b'y which t~eyc"o u'l d r e'c o"gmze~ thd samd: '" Th~ fir~ sign-isgh (ertaifl ,~istast~, f~f G6d arid' for'creatures~as wd112: ~The a6ul find~ it~ di$cu1~to~ugyqtself:'~bdfit G~di~t~a~ th( same time .it has ~& t~ste "f6~'&reature~ d6~f6~s~' This si~n~d~stin'~ guisbe~ "divihe~ aridity''~ from aridit~ause~ bf-Unfaithfulhdis~ for the sdul d&S no~ desire to seek itl consolation in ordinary p1~asut~s. This is ~ cl~r sigfi;~for God does not ~rmit the s0ul'he is ieadihg tb 318 Noverabe~o 1948 THE DOCTRINE OF ST. JOHN OF'THE CROSS higher' prayer fo;be .drawn.-aside'by,any.thing l~ss than~Himself:. Its. The second sign~,Tthe anxiet~r about servifig God,,di~tin~uishes thi~ state from -liiKewarmness; ffor;, by thd very definition, the 16kewarm are not. particulfirlW concerned about affer¢en t service of God: Inability to meditate, th~ 'third sign, tends to increase; anff, it can be distinguished b~. that fa(t from an~ inability that mighf ~bd caused by ill health and the like. St. 2ohn accounts for this:strange inability, to meditate. ~ In this'~tate og "divine aridity" God no longe/ c6mmunicates Himself through 'the.channels of sense or in consecu-tive reflectiohs but in pure spirit;.ahd pure spirif by its very nature has~ nbthing to~do ~it~ the~c6m~ar~tively gross actiohs' of "the imagination,ahd r~asdn.~ 2ohn thfis,shows,us fhat God is very mucfi present iff What ~as considered a,]and without Grid. ¢ In his book, The ~pirit~al ~L[~ (6~4),~ Ta~q~erey gives an'~ comments 6n'St['~J~hn's'ad~i~e"f6i'~ ~6ul qfi th~ dark hight: . ~or if a ma~ while sit'tifnogr~,,'h "~'s "p'o~rt'r"ai t. .c.a.:n' n~ot ~be s,till but: mov~ about, ~he [painte~ will.never de~i~ his face; 'and "eveff the. work already doh'e';wiil'b~spoiled)~ 'Ifi the sam~ way when "the i~(eriorly'fests, ~very actioh and, ~ssion~'~o~ ~.xious c6nsid~ration at .that~time will distract and .~is~u~b it;'~ ~so who,'God ~ntg fO i~p~int H~s li~ness uthpeotrn s o¯u ~ls ;' a -ffd s~us~p .e.n.d.s. the acnwty of [heir¯ f~ulti~s, tfiey have b~t ¢t6~ ab~de '.i~d~d,.~nd~ ~thf6d~h'~.~hi~ peat~"the gpifit 0f lo~(~ will flare~,up "arid "burn more brightly ~thm them. :~Tfiis'sf~te~of~ repose ~is by ~a~ m~ns 6he of ina~ti0n: if.is rat~e~'~ different":~kind','of.occupanon," ":"" ~. .W.hi~fi excludes: ' "sloth"~ '" l~nguor~" ,T~e~ mus~ therefd~e:~l';flistractibns, ~hd i~'in'ofder't~ o so they mffst:r~turn tb cofi~deranofis, let t~em not hemtate; pro~ ~ided~ th~ ~cah acc6~plis~, this "Withofit violeft ffOrts." : ' . A~otding, t~ John/6~ ~fi~" Ct6~g.:ihe:~ight o~ th~ ~eh~e~ ~e~e~ail~ lasts'a long'ti~.'" It varies wit~eadH ~dul. ~'St~ T~r~sa i~ Sai~f6 beeh in the d~rk'night, of t~,soM 'e~h~h yiars:St-),Fr~hc~s fff Asiiii/ -two ~yefirs~:T ' h.~.s. .num- .b.e.r. .s.eemst ,t.o ,-include fi~tht~e .~ m "g"'ht'of t~e senses'and o~,the s itif~¢ ~"-.' ~"~; ' ~ " '~r~.The ~hi~ht~ of t~ Spirit 'ii a pfir~atory on earth. ~Agam~"there s~emsto b~'n6Gdd fdr th~ a~icted's0fil. ,Much ~f ~he pain ~esfilts from ~he ver~ li~t bf contemplation. The soul" becomes aware~of how absolutely traHscend~t God" i~. ~ ':Sdzed by a profouffd zation of qts e~tieme '~iritual~ b6v~ity, the' souF is aw~r~ '0f' impression of ~nsurmounta~le sadness, or even of a temptation ~to despair. How could' G6~ lov~ a creature so vile, so abject] Th'~ J. E. BREUNIG " : soul suffers indescribable, torture:-there are moments When its laments become~ real cries of.angu sh. (Gabriel;.op: ¯ - God'~ action ~it~ this time is~compared to fire." ~",Tl~e purgative and loving knowledge or Divine light acts' upon the soul, in the same way as fire acts upon a log of wood in order to transform° it into itself: for m~ter.iaF fire, first of all begins to dry it, ,by driving out the moisture and causing it to shed th~ whter it co'ntains. Then it 10egins to make it black, dark and-unsightly, and, astir dries it little by little, it brings out and drives aw~r all~the dark and, unsightly accidents~which are c6ntrary to the nature of fire; 'Finall)~, it begins to kiiadle it.externally afido'give~it heat ~ind" at last~transforins it into itself and makes it as beautiful as fire." (~Works, I, 429:) "Ought not Christ to have suffered?" St. 5ohn~explains that this intense suffering results entir.ely from love. God purifies the soul in order tot raise it to the closest union with' Himself . A glo-rious Easter morning follows the dark night of Good Friday., We see St. 2ohn is a ,Doctor of Nothing and a Doctor of. the Dark Night only because he isfundamentally the Doctor,of Divine Love. Again, we are.on the lofty sgmmit~,gf Carmel, for the state c~ the transformi~ng union follows on the dark night. As we .look back, we see that the road has been rugged. In fact, the sheer cliff 9f Car-me1 is humanly unassailable. However, we saw that when the soul strips itself of self, when the soul drags itself up by means 0f ordinary p.ray~er an~ selg-deniaI, the Divine :.Guide~ takes its hand and with. i.nfused prayer leads the~ soul throug.h the arid land of the night'of the senses, then through the pur~i,fying fires of the night 9f the spirit until .together the peaks of pe~rfect~0n and love are reached. We conclude with a passage~.of sunshine from the little Doctor of the Universal Church. "The Father of" Lights, whose arm is not shortene~dl.but stretched out.~idely, without res, pect of persons, where-e~ cer it finds rogm, likd~th,e r~ay of the s,u.n . . . is greatly pleased to share His delights with the children of ~e.n on earth~ - No, ,it is not to be held a thing incredible that in a soul already cleansed, tried in the ,fur~nace of tribulations, of labors, and of divers temptations, and ~ound faithful in love, there will be fulfilled here below those .words wher.eby the Son of God promised that if,any man love Him the Most Hgly Trinity would come and abide in him,: ~that is to say, divinely~.enlightening ~is .understanding in the .wisdom of the Son, ddighting.~his will in the Holy Spirit whilst the Father absorbs him mightil¢ in the abyss of His sweetness." (Gabriel, op. cit, 19.) 320 May a super,oress use fh~ int~rest~ 6f dowries-and-legacies belofig;~ng to the Sisters for commumty purposes o'r for educational projects? After the first profession, the d~wry is to be invested in a man-ner that is safe, lawful, and prqductive according to canon 549. The revenue coming from the invested dowry can be devoted to the sup-pbff of the community or to the education of the Sisters. The.Code does not liinit the use of the revenue. Strictly speaking, the dowry can be invested even before the profession of a Sister, but on!~l°with her consent. In this case the institute could also use the, r~venue for. the good of the community. T'hi~ Subject is treated thor0ughly bs; Schaefer, De Religiosis, n6: 229. F~ther Ellis has also treated the Canons on the dowry in Vol. III, pp, 224 ff. of this REVIEW. Legacies usually ~i~hei" cofistitute a Si, ster'soproperty or are added to it. The disposition of the revenu~ of-l~acies therefore, will be regulatedb~" canon' 569,~,§ § ,1 aiad 2.- The beneficiary of the revenue is-freely indicated'~by fla~,religious @ho makes the cession of her property, the appointment of an administrator, arid the'~assignment of ,the revenue. If" the' Sister l~efore her first profession, m~ke~ the institute~the beneficiary of the revenue, then. of course, ~uperiors may use,it for the good of the-institfite. Educational prbjects~would undoubtedly be included. Is the following case ;n conform;h/with common life? Sister J. ;s g;gen permisson to travel for recreational purposes~be~ause her relafive~ are supplying her the necessary funds. If in a given community lawful custom permits travel as a form of relaxation, permission for such trips should not be contingent upon the economic status of the relfitives of the religious wh6' ~sks for such a permission. Common life calls for equality in these iiaat-ters. While such a partial way of acting may contributd to the balancing of the budget, it also makes a mockery of common life. The Code ;n canon 504 prescribes the age of forty'for superiors gen- 32[ eral and the age of thirty for other major superiors. Is there an age at which su, per!ors mustretire from office? The Code makes no provision for a retirement age for superiors. The ills attendant upon age come to some sooner, to others later. Infirmity due to age willdoubt]es~ l~ompt~the true religious to resign fron~ airy office w'hicl~: J~e considers l~yond~,~his physic~ or'menta! capacity. Would you kindly enlighten us on the following polnt~s 'concerning ~h~ ~'~cltafibn if fh~ rosary? I.'To" gain the in_dulgences attached to the recitation of .the rosary, i-~ it~necessary to recite the Creed. the Our'lFather, and the fhr~ee Hail Ma~rys before'begignlng the five decades? 2~ Must the mystery be mentioned-before the recitation of each decade? " 3. If the rosary is recited twice (i.e. I0 decades) 9n agiven day, what mysteries are~to be meditated upon? ¯ . 4. Where can I find some information 9n~he~recitatlon of the rosary? ° 1. Th~ rosary in its strlct~st sense cbnsists of the Our Fatl~er and ten Hail Marys recited fifteen times, or five times if one is reciting only a third part of the rosary. The, Glory be to the Father etc., were added some, time after the rosary,had been in usal~e among the faith-ful. Hence, the recitation.of the Creed, the Our Father, and'the three Hail Mar~s are not necessary to gain the indulgences attached fo the recitation of the rosary. 2. There is no necessity to-. mention the mystery before each decade;" -~:. 3; If, for,,example, on a Sunday after Pentecost, two-thirds 6f the entire rosary (or ten decades) were recited, the sequence of the mysteries should be .followed so that the.glorious mysteries, should be recited last: The other five decades, whether commemorating the jo,yful or the sorrowful mysSeri.es, should precede"the glorious mys-te, rjes~ . 4. Among other sources of information on'the rosary, we recommend an article by Father Ellis, "Our Lady's Rosary,~' REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V, 324. A Rosary Project, published by the Queen's Work, .likewise gives much valuable information concerning the recitatioa of~the rosary. 322 ommun ¢a ons Reveren'd Fathers." In the September REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, there is a communica~ t~on~ from "Old-fashioned'i' '~hat' should give us all 'thought ~r meditation. The only' s~tatement in the communication with which I take issue is the one that states that "worldliness is 'creeping~ .into the religious life." It ib not merely "creeping" in; it is already there, and there with a bang. Are. we goingl to treat it as we do, the weather? Every6ne talking about it; no one doing anything abouf it. Are there no courageous leaders in any of our communities? A good strong ~religious govern-ment could work wonders; one that is not afraid to act according to' its convictions. What will it profit to have a large progressive com-munity~ to have leaders in every field of activity, if the members are not attaining the purpose for which they 'entered religion--the glory of God, the salvation of their own souls. ' ~ Would it not be far better, regardless:of the nee~ for Sisters in our schools and hosl~it'~Is~" if we ~had still fewer but bette~r religious? What will it avail to have a' million worldly nuns, if by their very worldliness they are defeating the purpose for which the rel~igious life was established? ' If we can do nothing else, let us ~ray to the:Holy Spirit, that He may raise up some modern Teresas of Avila, who will have the courage to say to those who oppose them, as our Divine Lord said long ago to some of His followers, those who found His saying hard, "Will you also go away?" And we know that some did .go away and walked no more with Him. Would it not be better ~o have the faithful few really walking with Chroist, and working and .fighting for Him, than to have a million or more walking on the broad road that leads to dkstruction ?---A PROVINCIAL. Reverend Fathers: From my own ~ad experience, I know something about worldli-ness. It is a spirit opposed to the spirit of Christ. A religious "may become infected in various ways: by too great absorption in external occupations; by wasting time with seculars; by unnecessary corre-spondence; by uncalled for exemptions from Holy Rule; by morbid interest in secular reading and programs; by inordinate attachments 323 BOOK REVIEWS Review [or Religious to persons, places, and things. A worldly religious who loves and uses the world inordinately will find prete*l~S for shortening or missing her prayers and spiritual. exercises, and that without regret. She will find satisfactibn in the .company of seculars, seeking their applause and delighting in their flatteries. She may even sacrifice principles or points of. Holy Rule in order to curry the favor of the rich and influential for purposes of ~mbiti0n or worldly pleasures.She will find little or no time for spiritual reading, but claims she must read secular matter in order to keep abreast of the times. After listening to a conversation of a certain religious, an elderl7 gentleman remarked, "I didn't think that Sisters were so well-informed on such matters." A worldly religious does not enjoy the peace and contentment of convent life. The warnings of well-meaning companion ~ Sisters are ignored, and the corrections of kind and vigilant superiors are resented. She becomes disgusted and dissatisfied, and blames others for her" unhappiness. Can worldliness be cured? In my case, I was removed from the place to which I was so much attached. At the new mission, a reli-gious priest came to help out for some time. In confession he set me right in prayer. After a short but intensive prayer-fife, I fell in love witl'J God again; and then worldly attractions gave Way to the soul-satisfying joys of the spirit.TEACHING SISTER. Book Revie ,s EXILE ENDS IN ~LORY: The I.~e of ~ Tr~ppisfine. By Thomas Medon. Pp. '~i~ q-~'31 ~. The Bruce Publ~sh~ncj Company, Milw~aukee,:' 1948. $3.75. During her lifetime complete obscurity cloaked the activities of Mother Berchmans; and, but for her biographer, she would still be unkflowri save to the few Trappistine nuns~ who visit her grave in Hakodate, Japan, Put in a convent orphanage at three and a half years of age, she lived entirely apart from the world save for a year or two as a young woman after her graduation from. the orphanage school. Even within the convent her life was one without incident. 324 November, 1948 BOOK,REvIEWS Her entrance into the Trappistine convent at Laval, and ~her subse-quent journey to help the~st~ruggling foundation in Japan are_ the s01e "events" in her short life. 'She died"in 19,15 at 38.-years of age.° But lack of outward incident does nov leave her life story de~ioid of interest. From the record of her interior life drawn from her let~ ters and ~oersbnal papers,,and from the testimony of ~her, confessor- and religious acquaintances,~ it is clea~ that hers was~a life Of exalted sanc-tity:~ of sanctity, however, with nothing ~singular about it exter-nally. ,No ektraor'dinary phenomena nor dramatic suffering singled her out from her sisters in the convent. Her cross was her voluntary exile-from,her native Franceand the beloved convent at Laval. "She was to suffer," writes~,her biographer, "the ordinary, obscure, puri-fying trials of work and desolation and sickness which are the, com-mon lot of alFrelig~ous, more or less: but'~she was to suffer them with an extraordinary degree, of trust and loire and abandonment." ~ Thomas Merton, recognized poe~t hnd student of English litera-ture, brin~Os to the writing:of this biography no mean background no~ meager'talents. Himself~a,,~Trappist monk since 1941, he is prepared to "deal understandingly and sympathetically with his .subject. SOULS AT STAKE: "By Frar~cis J. Ripley and F. S. Mitchell. Pp. xl -k 198. Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., New York, 1948. Though written by a~i~t~fidh, layman whose paramount interest is the Legion of Ma~y, this bpgk~i.s not limited in its scope to that laudable form of the l~iy~postolate. It is a book about Catholic Action in general, ,~and the authors explicjtly:s~ate their, belief .tha.t the success ~ofiCatholic Action depends on a multiplic.ity of lay.organ_iza.~ tions,~ even though.the purposes ofs0me of these m.ay overlap. no space is devoted specifically to an exposition of the Legion of.Mar~y The first chapterqs a vivid portrayal of a 16art o~ the. meditation on the T.wo Standards. The devil~is surrounded by his represerita~- rives fr'om various mOdern~ countries, and he*tells.each °on~ what must be done in his country to further the satanic aims. 'The authors then give ~.a brief account of the political, social, educational, cultural;._and religious collapse of the present age. Part of the blame for these 'lamentable-modern conditions must be placed onthe apath~ of~ lay Th~ basic principl~s for any l~y organizatiofi of Cattiolic.Action 325~ BOOK N~TIeES Revieu3 [or Religious are °presented, and then expanded ,i~ siabsequent parts of the: book. The" ~uthots insist' 6n~ th( need~Of personal tontac~-to w~n They:issfie,~dive~se cautio~s. ~O~n~of these .has ~tO dd wit~, bver-idsistence ~n knowledge and orbed'purely natural endowments m the Ia¢, apostle.~ Another~ecti~s"themo~etn tendency to overemphasize " the sodaF apostolate. '~" YeUanotBer~caIis:; attention ~o, the failure~ of out Ca~h01ic schools to p~o'duce zealous,,gtaduates. These ate "presented objectively a~d charitably so that they elicit self-examinati6n, not resentment. The authors believe in ~he direct teligious~appto~.ch to non,Catholics, the ~a~e method that-~as used by the apostles themselves; ahd it is di~cult to.s~e how their argu-ments for such a direct approach can be refuted. In sucha book one wsuld expect marly exaggerations. Yet the 6ook in general is well-balanded. It is most regrettable, however, that the" ~titers ma~e t~e following assertion: "The universities founded by the Religious of the Catholic Church and supposed to be the centers of culture, are soaked t~roug~ a~d through with the false ~rindples of the new materialism . " The authors would be hard put to substantiate that statemenk. Aside from this and a few other exaggerations of lesser importance, the book stays on an even keel. Priests, Brothers, Sisters, and laymen will~pro~t from it. C. R. ~CA~L~S, S.3. BOOK NOTICES RELIGIbUS,'LIFE IN. CHRIST, by. Father° Theodosius Fdley, O.F.M.Cap.~ former provincial of his order and p~sent-~uperior Of the" Mt. Alverno Retreat House in Appleton, Wisconsin, contaifis thirteen coffferences for religious. These deal with some'of the funda-mentals of religious life, such as humility, worldliness,' suffering, tepidity, spiritual-childhood, simplicity,-and~ the obligatiori of striving for i~erfection. A chapter on self-deceit reveals the author's penetrating insight into the various ways that religious can fool them-selves. ~The 150ok is pradtical rather than inspirational. It makes frequent appeals t6Our Lord's own v~0rds and example. Itsstyle is simple, clear,-concise. Few ~ords are wasted. It is a book that can be used profitably "by? religious both ~for spiritual reading and.for points for meditation. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Com-pahy/. 1948. Pp. vii.+ 163. $2.50:)~ " ¯'326 November, 1948 BOOK NOTI¢~ ~Margaret, princess of Hungary, THE KING'S HOSTAGE, is offered to God before her birth-] She remains true to her dedication, though her parents, the king and queen, try to change her mind. The sweet enchantment of GOd's calling St. Margaret to His service is told for children by E. Virginia Newell in simple storybook fashion with I~he winning interest of a fairy tale. The illustrations are by Pauline Eppink. (St, Meinrad, Indiana: The Grail, 1948. Pp. 68. $1.50.) ABOUT JESUS, a child's life of Our. Lord by C, J. Woolen, relates the story of Christ's life and .gives explanations of Catholic doctrine and moral lessons as well. Though the style is simple enough for a child to understand, the book appears repelling to read --only six black and white illustrations help brighten up the solid print. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Bookshop, 1947. Pp. 221. $2.25.) O'Brien Atkinson, in WHAT DO You TELL THEM? develops a sixty-four-word answer to the' questi0n: Whji are 9ou a Catholic? He also treats such timely and isolasteudbj e c "ts 'as the existence of God, mixed marriages, religious tolerance, good will, ~he school question. The talks, used in actual street preaching, show how non-Catholics can be answered respectfully, briefly, and somewhat satisfact.orily. (New York: Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., 1948." Pp. 168.) THE WAY TO GOD, by Father Winfrid Herbst, S,D,S., is intended to serve for practical meditations during retreat, for daily. meditations, or for spiritua! reading. In a general way the first half of the book follows the "first' week" of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius; the remainder treats of various subjects, for example, The Holy Eucharist, the Passion, Our Lady. The s, tyle is designedly simple, even colloquial~ There is often a lack of orderly development of the individual chapters, but each contains good material for reflec~ tion and meditation. The author makes liberal, use of stories to drive home his point, (St. Nazianz, Wisconsin: Salvatorian Seminar% Publishing Department, 1947. Pp. iv + 299. $2.75.) ART AND FAITH contains an exchange of letters between J~cques Maritain and Jean Cocteau. The letters deal with the nattire and meaning of poetry arid with the sociological and politic~il, significance of art itself. The book contains brilliant thoughts on poetry, friend-ship, and philosophy, and shrewd estimates of contemporary French artists and writers.to interest the student of modern French litefa- ,327 BOOK NOTICES ture. (New York: The~ Philosophical Library, $2.75.) Ret~ieto /'or Religious 1948. Pp. 138., A revised and corrected edition of the well-known book, IN CHRIST JESUS, by Raoul Plus, S.$., is now available. The book explains .,the doctrine of our incorporation in Christ and its practical bearing on everyday life. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Bookshop, 1948. Pp. xiii -k 207. $2.50.) Father William L. Doty in CATECHETICAL STORIES FOR CHIL-DREN follows the characteristic division of the Catechism into creed, code, and cult. Through the medium of the story, of dialogue, and of daily down-to-earth incidents he breathes life into the dry skele-ton of the Catechism. Certainly here is a book that will appeal to the mind and heart of a child. Religion like a soul is put into the body of a child's day, naturally, as if it belonged there. Guides of the young t~achers, parents, preachers will find this sprightly book the magic key to the wonder-world of a child. (New York: ,loseph F. Wagner, Inc., 1948. Pp. xii q- 176.) T6 the average Catholic, David is the boy who slew the giant Goliath with his sling. Of David, shepherd and ruler, poet and musician, warrior and statesman, sinner and man of God, he knows very little. Mary Fabyan Windeatt in DAVID AND HIS SONGS high- . lights for us the f~scinating story of this second king of the Jews and ancestor of Christ. Cleverly she shows how the Psalms were born of incidents that arose in David's colorful life. They were the spon-taneous cry of his soul touched by life's sweetest joys and sharpest tragedies. In these lyrical songs, evoked by God's hand from the noblest chords of David's soul, we find reflected thedifferent moods that play upon the human soul. That is why the Psalms are such favorites in the Church's liturgy. For the uninitiated, youngsters particularly, ~he book will prove an open sesame to a rich new won-derland of personal, prayerful song. (St. Meinrad, Indiana: The Grail, 1948. Pp. 153. $2.00.) A hundred years ago a small group, pledged to the Thibd Order of St. Fr~incis, accompanied their pastor from Germany to Milwau-kee for the purpose of helping Bishop Martin J. Henni in his new diocese of Wisconsin. They located on land south of Milwaukee where the St. Francis seminary now stands. From this humble 328 November, i948 BOOK NOTICES beginning the Sisters of St. Francis of Assisl of Milwaukee devel-oped. A NEW AssIsI, by Sister M. Eunice Hanousek, is the story of a century's labors by these Sisters, and of their expansion into an important order of religious. Highly commendable is the fact that the author has incorporated the citation of her sources in her work, thus making it more valuable than the run of the mill jubilee publi-cations. 'If the good example set J is followed by other sisterhoods when they write similar histories, another step toward compiling an adequate Catholic history of the United States will have been accomplished. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1948. Pp. xiv + 231. $5.00.) WITH DYED GARMENTS, by a Sister of the Precious Blood, sketches the life of Mother Catherine Aurelie (Caouette). The book is a translation from the French A Canadian Mystic. The first part gives the story of the life of the~ Mother Foundress: the second part, an account of her virtues and of her reputation for sanctity. (Brook-lyn: The Sisters Adorers of the Most Precious'Blood, 1945. Pp. xif + 190. $2.50.) LIGHT OVER FATIMA, by Charles C. O'Connell, 'is a fictionalized account of the apparitions of Our Lady to the three children in 1917. A simple narrative of the events is itself so absorbing, that one won-ders why any fiction should be added. However, the book may help to introduce the message of Fatima to those people who never read anything more serious than.a novel, (Cork: The Mercier :Pres.s, 1947; and Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1948. Pp. 163. $2.50.) BROTHER TO BROTHER, by Henry Brenner, O.S.B., is an exhor-tation to fraternal charity. The book is directed especially to the laity and contains practical applications to everyday life~ (St. Mein-rad,. Indiana: The Grail, 1947. Pp. 92. $1.25.) THE COMMON PRIESTHOOD OF THE MEMBERS OF THE MYS~ TICAL BODY, by James Edward Rea, explains the Catholic doctrine of the common priesthood of the faithful. The book is divided into two parts: the first describes heretical concepts of the doctrine; the second traces the development of the true doctrine. As the author explains, he does not intend to throw new light on the ~ubject but hopes"to 329 BOOK NOTICES p'rep~re tile w~i'y for a mor~ frutiful cc~ntemplation of' the nature hnd ~ignificancd of the p~riestly dignity" of ali the' inert/bets ~6f the'one Priest:" The book was~originally published as a, docto/al dissertation by'~the Catholic University of Ain~ric~. '~ (Westminster, Maryland: The:NewmawBooksh0p, 1947. Pp. ~iii ~,~ The biography of ANNE DU RouSIER~translated from the French by L. Ke~ppe!,,,gives ftbrief but full vie~v of fhe ~_work accomplished and the successes achieved by one of the ear