Review for Religious - Issue 52.5 (September/October 1993)
Issue 52.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1993. ; . Contempora~ Living ¯ VOLUME 52 ~ NUMBER5 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 V~Tashington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. SUBSCRIPTION Ra\TES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plusmailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1993 Review for Religious review fr°e[ ig oi us Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Sefin Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1993' * VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents 646 feature Charisms and Religious Life Elizabeth McDonough OP underscores the importance of understanding charism and living it out in religious life. 66O living heritages Vincent de Paul's Charism in Today's Church Gerard H. Luttenberger CM presents Vincent de Paul's vision of the service of the poor and the search for God in a gospel context. 684 A Franciscan Discernment Experience--Part Two Joan Mueller OSF relates how one Franciscan woman witnessed to the discernment of God's will. 691 Ritual Leave-Taking Edward Foley OFMCap proposes the need and a way of response for a ritual reincorporation of retiring religious leaders. living with challenge 702 Christians and Their Passions James D. Whitehead and Eyelyn Eaton Whitehead encourage a befriending of our passions in order to live a full Christian life. 712 The Reality, Fact, and Fantasy of Incest Suzanne Zuercher OSB encourages spiritual directors to deal with the reality of incest issues even when a large measure of fantasy could be involved. 71.9 Dying--and See, We Are Alive Michael FitzPatrick OFM enters us into his experience of living with advanced prostate cancer. 642 Review for Religious 731 735 741 living sacramentally If Grain Could Talk Virginia Marie OCD presents an imaginative approach to our being grains of wheat. At the Heart of the Eucharist Joseph Allen Tetlow SJ suggests in parable form some focuses for Eucharist which receive less liturgical attention. Beyond Seven Sacraments Elizabeth Normanly SDSH reflects on the sacred reality that lies just under the surface of everyday experience. living consecrated life 745 Religious Vocations: New Signs of the Times Albert DiIanni SM focuses on the values important to young peo-ple as they consider a religious-life vocation. 764 Multiculturalism in Religious Life TodaY Catherine M. Harmer MMS explores how cultural and social minorities might be better integrated in religious congregations. 773 Religious Life---Mystery or Mistake? Annette M. Pelletier IHM draws attention to a link between the mystery of the human fascination with th~ Holy and the embodi-ment of that attraction in consecrated life. departments 644 Prisms 780 Canonical Counsel: Conciliar and Postconciliar Documents on Consecrated Life 787 Book Reviews S~pteraber-October 199~ 643 prisms Deadlines are a part of human living. There are deadlines for renewing driver's licenses. There are deadlines for research reports and for term papers in school. There are deadlines in the printing schedules of journals like this one. November 1, 1993, is the deadline for responses to the exploratory questions raised in the "lineamenta" called "Consecrated Life in the Church and the World"--the document intended to encourage reflec-tion and to solicit information and suggestions for use in the ninth ordinary general session of the Synod of Bishops. Although the Vatican Synod Secretariat has set a clear deadline for the responses it has invited, men and women religious have no deadline on the responsibility to con-tinue the study, reflection, and dialogue among themselves and with their local church people, clergy, and bishop so that we take advantage of this specially graced time for the whole t].ody of Christ. Of major importance in this ongoing discussion is the appreciation for the mystery of the church in its complexity of laity, clergy, and religious and in its hierarchical and charismatic elements. One hopes that a number of the bishops participating in the synod are conversant with the three-volume Council Daybook of Vatican II, which shows that the 1960s church included widely varying theologies of consecrated life. Where religious life fits within the church, God's people, was not a quickly or easily resolved question for the bishops as they formulated the council documents. Neither were there easily-agreed-upon theological understandings of the evangelical counsels and the elements of the life called reli-gious through the ages. Since few bishops who were in the debates and discussions leading to the Vatican II decrees 644 Review for Religious. remain active, there is no easy way to make use of those debates and discussions in efforts to move beyond the limitations and com-promises of the then-new Vatican II thinking. But we should not simply lament that the bishops who will participate in the synod have limited experience and acquaintance with these specialized topics; we should become aware that our own continuing familiarity with the documents and decrees of Vatican II and subsequent documents may be, at best, spotty or even nonexistent. We need to take to heart the sentiment expressed by T. S. Eliot in "Burnt Norton": What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. How can we make present to ourselves and for our times the richness of the Spirit's gift of consecrated life--to us religious and to the church? As I announced in the January-February issue of this year, Review for Religious for its own contribution to our synod preparation features an article in each issue which suggests a significant theological approach for this age of ours. We hope that all these articles provide material for further personal reflec-tion and community discussion. In addition, Elizabeth McDonough OP in our regular Canonical Counsel department recalls for us a number of the recent ecclesial documents that are relevant to informed dialogue on the topic of consecrated life. We may need to face the question, for example, whether charisms, even corporate ohes, can be timebound. Might whole religious groups, because their charism is incarnated, have a tem-porary lifetime? Should we spell out chastity, poverty, and obe-dience as vows essential to religious life when as vows they have not specifically marked the consecration of a number of religious groups? We might ponder whether evangelical counsels in their nonspecificity say more about what marks religious life. Since both lay persons and the clergy share in religious life, is the lev-eling quality of this identity in the church vital for internal reli-gious- life administration? Any number of questions can and should be raised and seen in the light of tradition and new theological understanding. Whatever the results of the October 1994 synod, our own ongoing preparations as religious and as church promise, beyond any wintery deadline, a springtime of redeeming grace. D~ivid L. Fleming sJ September-October 1993 645 feature ELIZABETH MCDONOUGH Charisms and Religious Life Before Vatican Cou_ncil II, charism was certainly not a fre-quent topic of conversation in Catholic circles, and dis-cussion of the charisma of religious life was relatively nonexistent. Nor does any conciliar document actually employ the word charism in reference to religious life as such, even though various discussions of council partici-pant~ specifically included charism as central to conse-crated life in the church. To be sure, Vatican II documents clearly recognize the charismatic nature of the diversity of gifts of religious life, just as they clearly affirm the pat-rimony or heritage of institutes--that is, their own proper character and functions--as important for the good of the whole church (Perfectae Caritatis, §1 and §8). The council also stressed the need for faithful retention of the spirit and aims of each founder and foundress, as well as for fidelity to each institute's sound traditions (Perfectae Caritatis, §2b). Charisms: Postconciliar Development Pope Paul VI was the first to use the word charisms officially in relation to religious life--in his 1971 apostolic exhortation on the renewal and adaptation of religious institutes after the council (Evange/ica Testificatio, §11). This and other documents during Paul VI's papacy referred Elizabeth McDonough OPis well known to our readers since she serves as the canon law editor. Her address can be found on the inside front cover. 646 Review for Religious to charism as providing a constancy of orientation while allowing for internal growth and change (Evangelica Testificatio, §12). Charism was also presented as the experience of the Spirit by founders and foundresses which was then transmitted to their fol-lowers for continual development in harmony with their role in the ¯ church (Mutuae Relationes, §1 i). In addition, during this time a direct connection was affirmed between the obligation of superi-ors to protect their institute's specific charism and the right of the institute, to maintain an appropriate autonomy'of life and gov-ernment (Mutuae Relationes, § 13). Subsequentl~ the word charism appeared among the norms concerning consecrated life during various stages of the revision process of the Code of Canon Law. In the final version of the Code promulgated in 1983, however, these references were replaced by conciliar terms and phrases mentioning the spiritual patrimony or nature or character or sound traditions of an insti-tute (see, for example, cc. 577, 578, and 631). Some writers sug-gest that the nub of difficulties for religious in the church today is the distifiction, or even the supposed contradiction, between the hierarchical and the charismatic.1 Nevertheless, Pope John Paul II, in a letter directed to the bishops of the United States in 1983, exhorted them to encourage and assist: religious in living faith-fully according to their charism. Shortly thereafter he issued an apostolic exhortation addressed to religious in which he viewed charisms as gifts approved by the church for the good of the church and of the world and as fortifying and fostering religious com-munities in both their life and their apostolic service (Redemption# Donum, §15). More recently the 1990 Vatican Directives on Formation in Religious Institutes reemphasized the importance of their particular charisms to the life and development of the vari-ous religious communities (Potissimum Institutioni, § 16). While it is quite clear that the Second Vatican Council treated consecrated lifeforms more as dynamic, living i'ealities than as static entities defined by legislation, it is also clear that Vatican II attempted to articulate certain theological understandings and practical boundaries within which the various gifts of consecrated life should continue to exist and function. These conciliar positions treated consecrated life as an integral part of the life and holiness of the church itself and saw certain evangelical counsels as peren-nially significant in all historical manifestations of consecrated lifeforms (Lumen Gentium, §44). More than a quarter century of September-October 1993 647 McDonougb ¯ Charisms and Religious Life discussion on the charism or charisms of religious life, however, has still left the notion theoretically elusive and practically debated. The question still arises: What, if anything, can be reasonably articulated and plausibly understood with regard to a charism of religious life? Charisms: Meaning and Expression Any genuine charism of religious life is a pure gift of God for the good of the church. Accordingly, a religious-life charism can generally be described as a window on the gospel, a framed vision of people following Jesus that attracts others to do so in a similar way. They encounter in the charism of great religious founders and foundresses--the Benedictine charism, the Dominican charism, the Franciscan charism, the Mercy charism, the Daughters of Charity charism, and so forth--a phenomenon both intellec-tually and affectively compelling. Indeed, both history and our own background witness to the fact that people often respond to genuine religious charisms at great personal cost and by over-coming a variety of formidable obstacles. Moreover, charisms attract people to engage in an overall task together rather than only or primarily as free agents in independent endeavors. A charism of religious life can be recognized as a lived and living reality. It is a ~eed planted in fertile ground that takes root and grows and multiplies abundantly. It becomes a strong plant that can be transplanted to other climates, other cultures, and other eras. A genuine charism of religious life can also transcend ethnic differences, social and economic classes, and the several generations alive at a giyen time. It enables people .to say, "Yes, we who have such diverse origins and experiences can live together constructively in a consciously Christian manner." A genuine charism of religious life can transcend economic theories, politi-cal preferences, and personal prejudices. Indeed, a genuine charism of religious life has the potential to transform people's lives no matter who or where they are. Charisms are expressed in an entire way of life, a compre-hensive culture, not merely in various norms and particular prac-tices. They are deeply rooted in healthy spirituality. They exhibit sound and supple structures. Genuine charisms have customary practices that are formative of the chosen lifestyle. They also make valuable, constructive ecclesial contributions; for charisms of reli- 648 Review for Religious. gious life do not exist--indeed, cannot exist--merely for their own sake or merely for the sake of those who embrace them. As an indication of this, note that, according to a recent three-year soci-ological study in the United States, membership in a particular community primarily for affiliative belonging rather than for "the mis-sion of the church and the extension of the charism" needs to be addressed by religious institutes if they hope to survive.2 Another significant element of genuine religious charisms is that they live only in people, not in documents. The charisms are gifts to people, and they captivate and transform the recipients. However enamored many religious may be with popular refounding, reweaving, and re-creat-ing trends, there is actually no future for any institute that did not begin with--or has not been successfully grafted onto--a genuine religious-life charism. No amount of well-disposed and concerted effort can create a charism of reli-gious life. Whatever sociological or anthropological sleight of hand well-intentioned people might employ, it simply cannot be done. Historically speaking, in the United States a good number of religious communities (especially of women) seem to have been founded to perform a particular spiritual or corporal work of mercy at times when there were tremendous practical needs and when American bishops actively sought a willing and capable, if not always large, work force. Some groups that were eventually rec-ognized as religious institutes responded to these needs with valiant efforts and heroic virtue. Some others, however, may have begun and responded somewhat superficially, without the deep rooting of a genuine religious-life charism. For a number of them, the Vatican II mandate to return to the gospel and to the spirit of the founder or foundress resulted in their being confronted with salvaging an historically borrowed and circumstantially time-bound way of life that was not founded in a genuine charism and, consequently, was not well sustained by a deep and relevant spirituality. For others, A religious-life charism can generally be described as a window on the gospel, a framed vision of people, following Jesus that attracts others to do so in a similar way. September-October 1993 649 McDonougb * Cbarisms and Religious Lift the conciliar mandate resulted in their being confronted with prac-tices that seemed to have little or no connection with the original charism of their founder or foundress. For still others, the conciliar mandate to return to the original charism seems to have resulted more in selective borrowing of rhetoric to justify desired alter-ations than in a clearer awareness of the original heritage with a view to embracing its authentic beauty and, often, its concomi-tant demands. In regard to the latter, for example, after the council a num-ber of institutes of women claiming Dominican roots readily opted for contemporary participation in the order's preaching heritage, but just as readily deemphasized the order's original heritage of common life, liturgical prayer, and assiduous study of sacred truth. Similarly, after the council, followers of the Mercy charism quickly and rightly reemphasized Catherine McAuley's concern for women, but simultaneously transformed her notion of Mercy communi-ties as separate institutes in the various dioceses into one of uni-fied national organizations espousing global causes--a quantum leap from the "amalgamation" that produced the Mercy Union in the United States in the early 20th century. Or again, at least some postconciliar followers of Francis promptly translated his incar-national theology into a diffuse ecospirituality while managing not to do anything very concrete and practical for Francis's Lady Poverty. Thus, at least in some instances, the Vatican II mandate that religious return to the roots of their charism seems to have stirred up speculation about what a founder or foundress would do if he or she were now alive, with actions sometimes resulting that were contrary to, or at best not very inclusive of, what the founder or foundress consciously espoused and actually did. Charisms: Basic Presumptions Regarding charism, there are certain rather obvious theoret-ical presumptions--and certain practical assessments directly related to them--which might strike some readers as simplistic, but which warrant articulation. The presumptions are threefold. First, either a religious community has a charism or it does not. If a community does not have a charism, it is not going to survive. Second, if a community has a charism, the members understand it or they do not. If a community has a charism but the members do not understand it, the community is not going to survive. Third, 650 Review for Religious ¯ . if a community has a charism and understands it, the members can either strive to live it or they can decline to do so. If a com-munity has a charism and more or less understands it but the mem-bers decline to live it, then that community is not going to survive. More pointedly: if any community lands on the negative side of any of the above disjunctive assertions, then it probably does not merit survival. But note again: this assessment is not directly concerned with the foibles and failures of human endeavors; it is concerned with the importance of the charisms of consecrated life as such. Precisely because charisms are gifts of the Spirit to and for the church, they are too precio~as to be left indefinitely in the trust of people who are heedless of a charism's inherent value or unmindful of their personal responsibility to embrace and live its practical consequences. If members of a community cannot articulate clearly its fun-damental spirituality, if they are functionally unaware of its sound traditions, if they cannot realistically recall or do not meaning-fully practice its formative customs, if they cannot understand its internal workings in keeping with who they are as religious, then the community probably does not have a charism. Although the full meaning of a charism can never be completely specified, any charism has at least some identifiable characteristics and some external lineaments for practical recognition. If members of a com- .munity 'have not a clue what these might be, then--more likely than not--the community simply does not have a charism. And, as disconcerting as the statement may be for the adherents of some contemporary trends, it bears noting again that no one can actu-ally refound or reweave or re-create a charism of religious life. In fact, in contrast to the pelagianism of prevailing literature in this regard, I would suggest that---rather than refounding or reweav-ing or re-creating a charism--if anything, people receive it and respond to it. All that having been said, what then does a charism actually do to the receiver, to you and me and the many other plain human beings who receive it? Expressed in the subjective way that each religious probably has experienced it at some time or another, a vocation to live within a certain religious charism is an over-whelming sense that something quite beyond clear description has dropped into one's life (or into one's hands or into one's heart or into one's head) and evoked a spontaneous personal response such as "Oh, my God, if I take this seriously, it could transform me September-October 1993 651 McDonougb ¯ Cbarisms and Religious Life drastically for the rest of my life." However differently one who has experienced the call to live a religious-life charism might express it, or in whatever circumstances one might have experienced it, this dropped-into-your-lif~ gift--stirs awareness and promises transformation both drastic and continuous. In fact, if received and responded to, radical transformation is precisely what a charism has the potential of accomplishing as a person becomes publicly, consciously, perpetually committed to following Jesus more closely in this fashion and with these people and for this pur-pose- whether after the manner of Benedict or Francis or Dominic or Angela Merici or Ignatius Loyola or Louise de Marillac or Catherine McAuley or other such leaders. Although charisms live only in people, not in writings, nev-ertheless rules, constitutions, and other fundamental documents of a religious institute are important because they schematically and historiographically suggest a lifeform and purpose about which the church confidently says to individuals, "If you follow this form of gospel life, you will not be led astray from your true end." That is the assurance given to religious in recognized lifeforms through the ecclesial approval of specific charisms. The documents of any religious institute, however, are at most merely the best possible articulation of the lived understanding of the institute's charism through its generations of existence. Documents can do no more than suggest the cumulative richness of the lived experience and self-understanding of a community with a charism, for only peo-ple actually embody it. In fact, it can be hypothesized that, if all the documents of a community with a genuine charism were destroyed but its members were to survive, others would still be able to grasp the full import of the charism through the living members. In contrast, if all the members of a religious institute that has a gen-uine charism were to cease to exist but the documents were to survive, others would not be able to grasp the import of the charism or would be able to understand it only superficially. More point-edly: charisms exist, not in dead letters, but in living persons who themselves are formed and informed by the original charism both lived and written down. Charisms: Living Example As an example of a charism being lived, I would suggest' St. Dominic, with his passionate concern for the Truth--not in the 652 Review for Religious abstract, but in the person of Jesus, the Word of God--and with his unmitigated compassion for people, all of whom God loves in his beloved Son. That is to say, perhaps people cannot truly be Dominicans if they claim passionate concern for the truth while disdaining people, especially people who disagree with them--which at times seems a Dominican penchant. Those who embrace the Dominican charism in any age may have no other option--if they wish to continue in existence--but to ardently desire, dili-gently pursue, and freely share the Truth who is Jesus. Moreover, this desire and pursuit and sharing must be accomplished in the manner of Dominic amid the great collective wit-ness of his followers through the cen-turies. This witness includes fearless, respectful encounter with the people in the areas where the gospel needs to be preached. Such evangelization is fun- Radical transformation is precisely what a charism has the potential of accomplishing as a person becomes publicly, consciously, perpetually committed to following Jesus. damental to Dominican apostolic life: compassionately meeting people where they are and being for them channels of God's truth. On one occasion Dominic, on a journey to assist a local bishop in arranging a courtly marriage, met an innkeeper who was "wretchedly deluded" by the then prevalent Albigensian heresy. Dominic was moved to pity--not anger or disdain, but pity--and fervendy began to exhort the innkeeper, zealously discoursing with him through the night with such compelling wisdom that he was moved by God's grace to embrace the faith. There we have, per-haps, a Dominican paradigm for confronting the wretched delu-sion and incredible confusion of any era. As Dominicans we are obliged to be moved to pity, to plead emotionally, and to exhort fervendy--not merely with abstract propositions--so that the grace of God can be operative in others' lives. As Dominicans we must both believe and embody the truths we speak---so that the way we handle the attractiveness of truth is itself attractive. Dominicans must speak, not merely with their own wisdom or their own spirit, but with God's. Note, too, the circumstances of Dominic's encounter with the innkeeper. His sojourn at the inn occurred during his travel for the September-October 1993 653 McDonougb ¯ Cbarisms and Religious Life purpose of helping to arrange a wedding, a wedding that, for rea-sons quite beyond the control of the bishop and himself, did not come to pass. There may be a further message here for Dominicans, namely, that we should be willing to be surprised by, to respond to, and to work hard at tasks God sets for us by sud-denly rearranging the apostolic endeavors we ourselves had planned. Indeed, the specifically Dominican way of evangeliza-tion today might well involve pity, exhortation, and argumentation in the face of delusion, with an eye to people's eventual conversion in graced ways that are not of our doing and are not even the out-come of the kind of apostolic project we have dreamed of crafting. Let us return now to the matter of religious-life charisms as such. In this age in which people are incredibly confused about numerous personal, communal, national, and global problems; in the midst of great diversity of religious belief; after the break-down and fragmentation of many traditions; in the context of eco-nomic upheaval~ and political disagreement--in all this the living witness of any genuine religious-life charism matters. It announces uniquely, with specific and recognizable characteristics, that "fol-lowing Jesus" still has meaning precisely as a commitment to some-thing beyond whatever pragmatic tasks each religious is involved with here and now. This is not to suggest that the charism of a religious institute flourishes wherever any isolated member may be doing with dedication something worthwhile. Rather, the causal-ity is just the reverse: transcendent awareness and inner conviction and commitment manifest themselves to others only through the lived and living reality of the total charism, which is a grace received and, as such, not an energetic project of one's creative imagination. Charisms: Basic Sources What qualifies and practices, then, can religious look for in the experience and response of a founder or foundress to enable them to live their religious charism constructively today? The sugges-tions derived from basic sources include firm spiritual founda-tions; sound intellectual knowledge; tested advancement in virtue (perhaps reflective of the terribly old-fashioned notion that habits of doing good are significant); getting along honestly and chari-tably with others; responding to the graces presented in one's par-ticular calling; and constant reliance on God in all endeavors. The 654 Review for Religious way of life religious embrace is supposed to provide spirituality, customs of prayer, practical living arrangements, and opportuni-ties for ecclesial service. These things, these qualities, these prac-tices are desperately needed today as always for the sake of ecclesial service. God did not dabble with becoming human in Christ Jesus, nor did the recipients of founding charisms dabble with the gifts entrusted to them. Religious today who have embraced any charism of religious life in the likeness of great, sainted founders and foundresses simply cannot allow themselves the luxury of dabbling with the gift. If there is a certain urgency about what religious are about in the church and in the modern or postmodern world, there is also the possibility that religious can betray this urgency and bury their charisms just as, in the gospel parable, some buried the talents given them. If religious do this, the charisms will be given to others, for they are sim-ply too important to the vitality of the church for God to allow them tb be wasted. We religious can betray "and bury our charisms in intellectual arrogance. We can betray and bury our charisms in the comfortable patterns of recent and not so recent complacency. We can betray and bury our charisms in rampant individualism. We can betray and bury our charisms in personal or communal refusal to engage others in honest relationship. We can betray and bury our charisms by perpetuating a politically advantageous or per-sonally comfortable status quo. We can betray and bury our charisms by fashionable tinkering with fundamentals. We can betray and bury our charisms in person.al preferences and unre-flective compromise. We can betray and bury our charisms to the detriment of the transcendent realities to which we have been called and for which these gifts have been entrusted to us. And perhaps we not only can do these things, but actually have done them, for a variety of worthwhile or not so worthwhile reasons. Regarding the charisms of religious life, it is difficult to over- Religious today who have embraced any charism of religious life in the likeness of great, sainted founders and foundresses simply cannot allow themselves the luxury of dabbling with the gift. September-October 1993 655 McDonough * Charisms and Religious Life estimate the importance of initial and ongoing formation. Human beings as they are, religious are always beginners in something, but initial formation is especially crucial. Introducing people to a religious institute's specific charism, it makes or breaks the char-acter of that cqmmunity. Formation provides spiritual founda-tions; it imparts intellectual knowledge; it encourages progress in virtue; it provides opportunity for enhancing relational abilities; it implants or improves specific skills for ministry; it conveys the importance of humble reliance on God; it fosters a willingness to have everything disrupted for the sake of the Truth who is Jesus. Sound initial and ongoing formation is indispensable to the char-acter of the institute as such and, of course, indispensable for each member as well. All members should become increasingly imbued with the founder's or foundress's initial gospel insight. Formation in consecrated life requires a certain comprehensive submission to the heritage of a particular community precisely so that one can grow into it. In other words, it involves a conscious and practical surrender to the community's time-tested and effi-cacious ways of bringing the novice into its specific charism. It involves a lifelong endeavor to live according to this charism, and one's initiation into this life must necessarily include assiduous study of the charism's roots while experiencing its lived reality. And, if anything is clear from the gospel and from the great sainted founders and foundresses of religious institutes, it is that ministry requires prayer, a continuing relationship with the person of Jesus. This cannot be feigned, and it is the source of one's Christian identity within a religious community's own charism. As a matter of course, initial and ongoing formation provide encounters with our countless limitations. Our supposed matu-rity is challenged, as are our all-too-easily-acquired attitudes of superiority and complacency. Initial and continuing formation does this for us within our common life, which is relentlessly con-frontational. To be sure, confrontation is not common life's pri-mary purpose, but--as many religious have noticed--it has that characteristic nevertheless. Formation and confrontation remind us of our responsibility, our response-ability, regarding the charis-matic gift we have received. Common life continually reminds us of the smallness in each of us that has not the ability or the humil-ity- or the willingness to be bothered--to address some particu-lar smallness in oneself or in another. The old-fashion~d term for this is pusillanimity, the opposite of magnanimity, greatheartedness. 656 Review for Religious Charisms: Ongoing Personal Response How we live together and why we live together--indeed, if we live together at all these days--is not insignificant for reli-gious. We can respond to these questions in three basic ways: com-pliance, identification, and internalization. Compliance is an ¯ appropriate response to things with which one agrees, or acquiesces in because they are not worth contesting (daily schedules, maga-zine subscriptions). Identification is an appropriate response to things which connect us in some external way with a province or a congregation (attire, social customs). Internalization is an appro-priate response of making the elements of a particular charism one's own (one's understanding of the vows and one's practical ways of living them). Practical experience tells all of us religious that initial and also later experiences of fervor in religious life readily wane. What happens? Perhaps, at some time during the years, little by little, without our noticing it, we replace various appropriate responses of compliance, identification, and internalization with inappro-priate ones. In short, we get them mixed up. Some religious seem to prefer being identified more by their external attire (conve-niently donned and doffed) than by their interior spirituality (dif-ficult to acquire, but then probably difficult to conceal). Some religious seem to prefer being judged more by compliance to a schedule (objectively measurable) than by unselfish concern for those among whom they minister (difficult to assess). Probably all of us get these responses mixed up sometimes, some more, some less. And, unless I am quite mistaken, with rare exceptions we all learn eventually how to compromise, how to work the system for some personal advantage. Later on we may just forget our ear-lier enthusiasm for the life because we have become quite weary of it. We may find ourselves living our religious life from plateau to comfortable plateau, staying on each one as long as possible. Why? Perhaps--in wretched delusion, if you will--we some-how think we can "arrive" at being a religious in the context of the charism we have embraced. We settle into a place, consciously or unconsciously, and then no longer let the charism bother us in our complacent niche. For some, the "arrival" may have been when they once received the habit. For others, arrival meant first or perpetual profession or acquiring a particular academic degree or community responsibility. For still others, arrival may occur when they are recognized as professionally successful or feel personally September-October 1993 657 McDonougb ¯ Cbarisms and Religious Life renewed. In clerical communities the reception of orders might signify arrival for some. Whatever the point of one's arrival might be, we are inclined then to think, "Aha, now I have arrived. Now I do not have to hold the precious gift of the charism in my heart and say, every day, 'Dear God, if I ~ake this seriously, it can trans-form me drastically for the rest of my life, beginning today.' I do not have to do that anymore because I have arrived." Perhaps most religious at one time or another are tempted to think that they have, indeed, reached some acceptable point of arrival along the way of life they once set off on. The problem with such an "arrival" i~ that now we prefer to see the charism as inadequate ratheF than ourselves, for it asks us to do something that our complacency finds distasteful. Indeed, once we feel we have arrived, we fall prey to the temptation of having recourse to our charism merely as a storehouse of rhetoric to justify our doing what we have already comfortably settled upon doing, not what God might ask of us on the breath of our charism. It is at our own point of "arrival" that we religious need oth-ers to jolt us, jolt us out of our complacency. If we are lucky, they will. This is one of the reasons why we need common life, with its prayer, formative customs, and each other. We need every gener-ational cohort, every race, every national heritage, every ethnic grouping, every province, every viable local community. We espe-cially need ongoing encounter with each and all of those who have genuinely committed themselves to the practical manifestations of the charism and are willing to be captured and recaptured by it while striving faithfully to live it. Together we need to prevent our religious-life charism from being indiscriminately assimilated into the dominant trends of any culture, even as we strive to bring it to bear creatively on the problems of every culture. While we religious must admit that each of us pronounces vows in the first person singular and will one day answer to God for our living of them in the first person singular, any religious should also be able to say that he or she does not have to engage in this lifelong com-mitment alone. While each religious alone can become the person he or she is called to be, no religious is called to do this in rugged isolation. In short and in sum, any religious community either has a charism or does not; the members either understand it or they do not; and they either strive to live it or they do not. The future of religious life belongs neither to those who fondly reminisce about 658 Review for Religious yesteryear nor to those who self-prophetically dream about the next millennium. It belongs, rather, to those who here and now, simply and conscientiously, together live their response to the charism that captured them, to the God who has promised to transform them into the likeness of Christ. Notes ~ David J. Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis, "The Religious Life Futures Project: Executive Summary," Review for Religious 52 (1993): 13. 2 Ibid, 48. A Stop on Tour The occupants of the tour bus have all Been boning up on the saints: they circulate Little Lives snippeted for easy reference, easily Codified with the cathedral cities we visit. And here, in another cathedral square, obedient to the drone of tour guide, with pigeons overhead We ring the barrier where another stake Claimed its saint. Not Joan the toast Of the Dauphin in his cups, but like Joan The toast of the fire when it hiccups explosively, Fracturing the elemen.ts of wood, fracturing hers. Did she choose what to wear to be burned? Undressed quick enough by the faggots" fingers, She is scandalously handled in her nakedness By their probing thumbs, raped by fire. The fierce wounds she screams to, destroy The nerve endings, uncover bone. You would Have thought the cry of the burning to be i~tenser; The whine of flames is higher. Not yet char Underfoot, sainted, shrined, a Little Life Snippeted, her smoke ascends. Dizzily, then as now, The pigeons circle the cathedral spires. Picking Our cobbled way, we move onward with the tour. Nancy G. Westerfield September-October 1993 6$9 GERARD H. LUTTENBERGER Vincent de Paul's Charism in Today's Church living heritages St. Vincent de Paul (1581-1660) is well known as "Father of the Poor" and "Light of the Clergy," more by the for-mer title than by the latter. He founded a men's and also a women's community: the Congregation of the Mission and the Daughters of Charity. Both communities are, by constitution, oriented toward ministering to the poor. It is this ministry that, at least in contemporary thinking, ori-ents the spiritualities of their members. Priests of the Mission are "to follow Christ, evangelizing the poor.''1 Daughters of Charity are "given to God for the service of the poor.''2 All members of each community are to live simply, like the poor, and to consider the poor as their "lords and masters.''3 The call to dedicated and active concern for the poor rings clearly in contemporary church teaching and cur-rent spiritual theology. The church at Medellfn under-scored the fact that "action for justice is constitutive of the gospel." It speaks of Jesus' preferential option for the poor. The fourth chapter of Luke clearly speaks of Jesus being anointed in order to proclaim good news to the poor. And the Acts of the Apostles (see, for example, 2:42-47) indicates that the early church continued with like con-cerns. Gerard H. Luttenberger CM teaches at Immaculate Conception Seminary in Huntington, New York. His address is The Vincentian Community; 104 Anstice Street; Oyster Bay, New York 11771. 660 Review for Religious It is clear, however, that neither continued proclamation of the call for justice nor individual concrete effort directed toward the corporal and spiritual betterment of the poor is sufficient to mobilize and sustain the church in this endeavor. Deafness afflicts some; disappointment, discouragement, and burnout debilitate others; the lessening of spiritual energy and vision constitutes a threat to all who labor for justice. In the face of today's challenges for greater justice, the church needs a spirituality that shares the dynamic vision of Christ and promotes with active love the human and Christian betterment of all. The church needs a deepened communion with God in the labor of love, a labor that is ener-getic yet peaceful. This article deals with the service of the poor and the search for God in a Christian and gospel context. More specifically, it deals with the ways Vincent de Paul lived these gospel mandates by drawing on a more original and deeper life, which he had ifi Christ and in God. Christlike vision and life were gifts which God and God's Word, Jesus, gave him in the flow of his prayer, dis-cernment, and active ministry. This vision served to inspire mis-sionaries then and serves to inspire apostles in the church today. This essay, then, presents Vincent de Paul as a model for, and a challenge to, all who aspire to minister to the poor in the con-temporary church. At the same time it provides a critical analysis of the spirituality that motivated and sustained his energetic labor. The method will be rather direct and simple. Vincent's own words (letters, conferences, the Common Rule of the Congregation of the Mission) will be used, along with the record of his interaction with others (his own directors, persons he served, priests he worked with) and an account of the events of his life and decisions he made. Spiritual Adolescence: Vincent's Teachers Vincent de Paul, like us all, was a child 0f his time. He under-stood God and the ways of holiness in the light of the spirituality of "the French School.''4 This spirituality was characterized by a quest for a deepened mysticism, a dedication to searching out and aligning oneself with the will of God, an emphasis upon faith in contrast with reason, and in some circles a renewal in apostolic service.~ Vincent de Paul was touched by these movements, par-ticularly through Benedict of.Canfield, Francis de Sales, Pierre de B~rulle, and Andr~ Duval. September-October 1993 661 Luttenberger * V~ncent de Paul's Cbarism Today Benedict of Canfield (1562-1619), an English Capuchin who took refuge in France after his conversion from Puritanism, had a decided effect upon his God-seeking contemporaries through his much-read work Rbgle de perfection riduite au seul point de la volonti divine.6 Its theme, that Christian perfection is achieved as one becomes, in the words of Henri Bremond, "almost wholly absorbed into God and his absolute will,''7 and its directives regarding the ways of uniting oneself to that will (emptying oneself in active obe-dience to God's law.and in self-denial) provided a starting point for the reflections of many spiritual-minded persons, among whom was Pierre de B~rulle. It was in the company and through the guidance of B~rulle that Vincent himself absorbed Canfield's doctrine. Francis de Sales (1657-1622), the well-known bishop of Geneva, became acquainted with Vincent when the former vis-ited Paris in 1618-1619. De Sales came to respect Vincent so much that he entrusted to him the direction of a group of Visitation nuns, a community he himself had established. Francis de Sales's spiritual way focused on God's will, which he experienced deeply as love, salvific love.8 The will of God is sav-ing love for de Sales. This clear and warm thought affected one's understanding of God and of God's relationship to humankind. Fear of God necessarily gave way to utter confidence in God's saving love. This saving love became the final rubric for Vincent's understanding of the mystery of God, the person of Jesus, and the relationship of both God and Jesus to the world. Pierre de B~rulle (1575-1629), a highly spiritual man as well as a statesman and diplomat, served Vincent as a spiritual counselor during Vincent's early life and ministry.9 For B~rulle, God's will was perfectly expressed in the incarnation of Jesus. Btrulle was struck deeply by the richness of God's life and will as revealed in Jesus. Contemplation of the mysteries of Jesus' life, as well as of the very being and person of the incarnate Son of God, was for him a clear way of losing oneself and of being drawn into communion with God and God's will. Christians, therefore, would achieve holiness by binding themselves to God in and through Jesus, by reliving his "conditions" or mysteries. (B~rulle was powerfully influenced by having made the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius and by the teaching of Teresa of Avila, which had reached France by way of the Spanish Carmelites.) The self-abandonment of searching for and subjecting oneself to the will of God, therefore, became more concrete and more explicitly Christian in Btrulle than it had been 662 Review for Religious in Canfield; but the will of God remained central for understanding the life of Jesus, the way of Christian holiness, and the mystery of God.10 Leaving the contribution of Andrd Duval for later, we might sum up the influences of Vincent's teachers in this fashion: 1. It is God, in God's salvific will, who guides us and all his-tory to God's Self as its end. In adhering to God's will and allowing God to work God's saving love among us, we will attain holiness and happiness. We will know the joy of being perfectly one with God, who is our only master (Canfield). 2. In seeking to align ourselves with God's salvific will, we are invited to perfect ourselves in love (de Sales). (Vincent ulti-mately developed this line of thought into a spirituality of action, stating that this love is not to be merely an affective love; rather, it is to be an effective love.'1) 3. God has sent the Son, who shows us the way to the Father, all the while revealing to us the Father's love. Jesus came "to act and to teach," to be himself one who lives in perfect union with the divine will and one who teaches us how to do the same (B~rulle). These three sets of ideas were important in Vincent's spiri-tual and ministerial development. They contributed to his quest to meet God in an active life of service. A brief sketch of that life and ministry will offer insight into the ways in which Vincent used and also developed these resources; it will illustrate how central and effective these perspectives were in the development of a person united to God in active ministry. Young Adulthood: God's Will and the Discovery of Grace Born in a small village of France in 1581, Vincent de Paul was ordained in 1599 at eighteen years of age.~2 Though the Council of Trent'had stipulated twenty-four ~s the minimum age for ordi-nation, Vincent's early ordination was not singular in late-16th-century France. Priesthood provided a comfortable career for young men of his time, and he was not an exception to such aspi-rations. He hoped for a benefice out of which he would be able to provide for his family's needs. Apparently he had little success until, through the influence of Bdrulle, his spiritual director, he obtained a position at the parish of Clichy in 1611, when he was thirty years old. He found the people poor but docile, alive in faith, and eager for God's word. It September-October 1993 663 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Cbaris~n Today was a significant moment of conversion for him; he realized that his ambition for a "good benefice," for a life of comfort, had been a block to his happiness and his ministry. He came to know that he could be happy laboring for poor and simple people. I was a country vicar [he later recalled]. I had people who were so good and obedient in doing whatever I asked them that, when I told them they ought to go to confession the first Sunday of the month, they never failed. They came and confessed, and I saw from day to day the good they did their souls. This gave me such consolation, and I was so pleased about it, that I used to say to myself: "My God! How happy you are to have such good people! I don't think the pope is as happy as a vicar with people of such good heart." 13 Vincent's stay in Clichy, however, was short-lived; in 1613 Bdrulle advised him to surrender the parish to an administrator and take up the task of being tutor for the family of Philippe de Gondi, a wealthy count. Vincent was obedient to his spiritual director; such obedience had become his way of life. It flowed from the spiritual doctrine that he had been absorbing from B~rulle and several other serious priests who gathered frequently to dis-cuss spirituality and the. plight of France. Vincent's tasks at the Gondi household included, not only teaching the children, but ministering to the poor who lived and worked on the Gondi estates. He learned firsthand the religious plight of these people. One problem concerned confession. Many peasants feared confessing their sins to local priests who knew them well. The problem was compounded by the fact that some priests were so ignorant that they did not even know the words of absolution.'4 Hence, people would allow years to pass without seeking to be unburdened of their sins. Vincent soon began coun-seling a general confession as a remedy. In 1617 Mme. de Gondi, during a sojourn at her ancestral castle at Folleville, visited a sick man at Gannes, a few miles dis-tant. She recommended that he make a general confession to Vincent. The sick man was so relieved after confessing that he told her that he would have been damned had he not had this spir-itual opportunity. Mme. de Gondi was so distressed that she urged Vincent to preach on confession the following day. The result was that his words stirred the entire parish of Folleville to repentance and he had to call in the Jesuits from Amiens to help him hear the people's confessions and to catechize them.'S 664 Review for Religious What does this brief sketch tell us of Vincent's spirituality? It serves to I~ring into relief the major dynamics out of which his more mature spirituality and his effectiveness in ministry devel-oped. Attentiveness and responsiveness to God's will in all its man-ifestations appear to have been paramount for him, and fidelity to his spiritual director helped him develop these dispositions and align himself with God. This spiritual pattern filled him with life, energy, and zeal for the spir-itual growth of others. It enabled him to "move with God" in ministry. And it led him to a deepened sense of the spiritual, a sense of God's presence, power, and graciousness greater than he seems to have expected. For what exhilarated Vincent in Clichy was the effectiveness and power of God's sav-ing love among his parishioners. What uplifted him on the Gondi estates was his perception of God working con-version among persons whom others thought to be too insignifi-cant and too resistant to God's love for their ministerial concern. One could say he was filled with an awareness that God was truly alive in a little country village and among the forgotten people of a vast country estate. A second dynamic, deeply characteristic of Vincent's way, also emerges from this sketch: his spirit was inclined toward action. He moved quickly when he was convinced that God had made known the divine will. He responded without hesitation when he realized people needed the ministry of a confessor; he sought help when the number of penitents was too great for one person. He was a man of action. These two dynamisms emerged in definite circumstances. If we are to understand Vincent, it is of singular importance to note that his early experiences of God in union with his active min-istry took place among the poor, the most neglected. Focused upon everyday needs that drew most of their energy and atten-tion, they stood as a challenge to any priest hoping to bring them God's word and love. Already aware, at least in principle, of the limitlessness and inclusivity of God's love, Vincent became con- He was filled with an awareness that God was truly alive in a little country village and among the forgoften people of a vast country estate. Septentber-October 1993 665 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today vinced ,that priests must be willing to endure these people's inat-tentiveness and resistance and must rely heavily upon God, and only then should try actively to mediate God's care. Such an approach to ministry proved fruitful, not only for the poor, but also for him. A word needs be said about the unity of these two dynamisms. While fidelity to the divine will remained central for Vincent, he seems to have begun to experience the union of two distinct aspects of that.divine will: (1) The will of God that he wished to be one with and obedient to was at the same time (2) a will alive and active, leading others to accept God's love. In surrendering him-self to ministry foi" the poor, Vincent immediately found himself deeply one with and a mediator of that will. The two dynamisms of his spirituality were in fact truly one. Middle Years: Mysticism in Action In the early days of his ministry, Vincent, under God's inspi-ration, drew the outlines of a way to God and a way of serving others. We will trace three ways in which that outline developed in subsequent years as his spirituality gradually deepened, broad-ened, and became fine tuned. 1. The Founding of the Congregation of the Mission Shortly after the.powerful experience at Folleville, Vincent left the Gondi household at B~rulle's suggestion and obtained a parish in Ch~tillon-les-Dombes, far from Paris in the southeast of France. Very upset, Mme. de Gondi sent Vincent letters from many persons of rank, including her husband's brother Henri de ¯ Gondi, who was bishop of Paris, and B~rulle himself. The latter did not ask Vincent to return; he did, however, describe the lady's dis-tress and asked him to consider returning. In December 1617, after consulting with B~rulle, Vincent came to an agreement with the lady that he would remain as chaplain to her household until her death. He preached missions throughout her lands and at times called upon the assistance of other priests. This did not end Mme. de Gondi's worries, however. What would happen after her death? She persuaded her chaplain to seek the services of a religious community which might commit some members to this work, in perpetuum. No community would agree. So she, together with her husband and Jean Francois de Gondi, ~trchbishop of Paris (who had succeeded his brother Henri), urged 666 Review for Religious Vincent himself to select several priests to labor with him in this task. For their labors they would receive 45,000 francs and a place to live (the Coll~ge des Bons-Enfants, which the archbishop him-self provided). On 17 April 1625 Vincent signed a contract pledg-ing to establish within a year a community of six priests to preach these much needed missions, six priests who, going from village to village at the expense of their common purse, would devote themselves purely and entire.ly to the salvation of poor people, to preach, to instruct, to exhort, and to catechize these poor country folk and to incline them to make a good general confession of their whole past life, and without taking recompense in any manner what-ever, in order to distribute freely the gifts they have so lib-erally received from the hand of God?6 The expansion of Vincent's apostolic labor to include a con-gregation of collaborators reveals the development of the dynamic that had governed his earlier life. Responsiveness to God's will was still his focus as he carefully came to the decision to accede to Mme. de Gondi's request. But of special value at this point are the elements of the discernment process that led him to this deci-sion. First among these elements must stand his awareness of need, the need of the spiritually neglected people of the Gondi estates. Further, the concurrence of the Gondis' own sense of urgency and the negative responses of the other religious orders led Vincent to entertain the possibility that God wished him to respond to this need. But he was also cautious. Although he had strong desires to respond affirmatively, his conviction was that God would not be found in strong, ardent movements. He expressed that conviction sometime later (1642) in ~ letter to Bernard Codoing, a priest of the congregation: The spirit of God proceeds directly and always humbly. Remember that you and I are subject to a thousand outbursts of nature, and recall what I told you about finding myself, in the early stages of the project of the Mission, with it con-stantly on my mind. That made me wonder whether the affair sprang from nature or from the evil spirit, and I purposely made a retreat in Soisson so that God might be pleased to remove from my mind the pleasure and eagerness I was expe-riencing in this matter. God was pleased to answer my prayer in such a manner that, by his mercy, he took them both away September-October 1993 667 Luttenberger ¯ V~ncent de Paul~s Charism Today and allowed me to be in the opposite dispositions. I think that, if God is granting some blessing to the Mission and I am less a subject of scandal to it, I attribute it after God to this fact. I wish to remain in this practice of neither concluding nor undertaking anything while I am caught up in these ardent hopes at the prospect of great benefits?7 One of the criteria, therefore, which Vincent employed to dis-cern the will of God and to arrive at firm decisions in life and minist~ was the experience of a spirit of inner peace in the face of proposed undertakings. And prayer, even periods of lengthy prayer and retreat, became the avenue by which he arrived at (or was given) such dispositions (and, with them, knowledge of God's will). Finally, before making his commitment to the Mission, Vincent sought counsel, this time not from B~rulle (from whom he had separated himself)~ but from another priest and professor at the Sorbonne, Andr~ Duval. The counsel he received is reported sim-ply and directly by Duval's biographer: On hearing him speak of the spiritual necessities, in partic-ular of the need for religious instruction in the rural parishes, of the hunger for the word of God in the people, of the ben-efit produced by these instructions, and of the blessing which they would receive, the venerable Andr~ pronounced these words: "The servant knowing the will of God and doing nothing will be flogged greatly." These words were scarce.ly uttered than Vincent de Paul felt himself interiorly moved and drawn by grace, and con-sidered them as an order from the divine will, which, having made known to him the needs of the poor, called him to go throughout t.he country. It was necessary to announce the Word of God, to preach, to catechize, to hear confessions, to administer the sacrament of penance, to allay discords, and, in a general way, to offer to the people living in the coun-tryside all kinds of spiritual services, without being a burden to anyone, without inconveniencing either the people or the priests, but rather bringing them help, and that with their assent and with the permission and the mandate of the bish-ops. As a result, he decided to give himself effectually to this work . It was only with this last element, the approbation of another person whom he judged objective and wise, that Vincent felt assured that he had attained God's will through prayer and dis-cernment. The way was complex; the outcome was sure. Vincent's fidelity to this process produced two profound effects 668 Review for Religious upon his spirituality. First, his experience of ministry, and partic-ularly his ministry in behalf of the poor, became filled with the experience of God. He knew God's presence in his resolves and in his actions; he found God alive in the persons whom he served. His labor of discernment and his responsiveness in service constituted his way of coming into, and living in, union with the God who was drawing all into communion through Christ. For Vincent, ministry itself became the expression of what might well be called a "mysticism in action." Second, this process drew Vincent close to Christ. Though Vincent left us no explicit record from before 1625 of his move-ments toward and with the Lord, his words written shortly after this time indicate the prominence of the life and example of Christ in his discernment and ministry. It was through Christ that he learned total reliance upon God's will. And it was in Christ that he found himself alive to God and alive for others.19 In this latter vein he wrote to one of his first priest confreres, Antoine Portail, urging him to humility as.he gave a series of missions: Keep in mind that we live in Jesus Christ through the death of Jesus Christ and that we must die in Jesus Christ through the life of Jesus Christ, and that our life must be hidden in Jesus Christ and full of Jesus Christ, and in order to die as Jesus Christ we must live as Jesus Christ. Now, once these foundations have been laid, let us surrender to contempt, to shame, to ignominy, and let us disclaim the honors people pay to us, the good reputation and the applause they give us, and let us do nothing that has not that end in view.2° For Vincent it was in Christ that faithfulness to God and self-less love of others found their unity. Discernment of God's will and responsiveness in service were framed by devotion to Christ and the mysteries of his life. Vincent was drawn, not simply to mysticism in action, but rather to a Christian mysticism in action-- to an experience of God through and in Christ. in an active life of faithfulness and service. 2. Commitment to Ministering to the Clergy Active and programmatic labor for the spiritual well-being of the clergy soon followed as a focal concern of the saint. It had become clear to him that much of the spiritual impoverishment of the people of the country had its roots in the impoverishment of the clergy. He had discussed this much earlier (before going to Clichy) with people who had grouped together out of concern for September-October 1993 669 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today the spiritual renewal of France, among whom were B~rulle and Fathers Jacques Olier (founder of the Sulpicians) and Adrien Bourdoise (founder of a community, the priests of Saint-Nicolas-du- Chardonnet). Later Mme. de Gondi spoke with him about it. And finally he experienced its effects firsthand at Folleville and Ch~tillon.2t It was through the instrumentality of bishops that Vincent actually began ministering to the clergy. In July 162 8 Augustine Potiers, bishop of Beauvais, got the idea that a retreat for ordinands that would include instruction on the duties of their state in life might be helpful. He asked Vincent to draw up a program for the retreat and to conduct it for his candidates that very September in Beauvais. Vincent responded and the effort met with success. In February 1631, Jean Francois de Gondi, the same arch-bishop of Paris who in 1625 had sponsored Vincent's establishing a small community of priests to conduct missions for the poor people of the Gondi estates, decreed that all his ordinands would have to make a two-week retreat before their ordination. He asked Father Bourdoise to conduct the exercises, but the priest refused. He then asked Vincent to conduct them. He too objected, stat-ing that the goal of his community was to preach country mis-sions. The archbishop finally obtained the services of a doctor from the Sorbonne, but the next year, after uniting the Priory of Saint-Lazare with the congregation, he imposed upon Vincent's community the obligation of conducting these retreats. In 1639 he required all ordinands residing in Paris (not only those belong-ing to his diocese) to make these exercises. Soon, at the recom-mendation of Bishop Potiers, other dioceses adjacent to Paris began sending their candidates to these retreats, the success of which was quite pleasing to Vincent. One can notice some interesting modifications in Vincent's approach at this time to discerning God's will. He saw the needs of the clergy and connected them with the distress of the poor people. He also saw that others who might respond to these needs had refused, a fact that would raise the question whether God wished Vincent himself to meet these needs. Finally, he was being invited by ecclesiastical authority (which he respected in discern-ing God's will) to respond to these needs by a means which, early on in Beauvais, had proven effective. Yet he resisted. Why? It is possible to argue that he himself was not yet free enough from human and even selfish limits to hand himself over to God's 670 Review for Religious will in all things. It is possible that his love for the poor and the missions crowded out other possibilities for responding to God's will. But neither of these possibilities seems to have been the case. What seems to have been holding Vincent back was his fidelity to the contract he had made with Mme. de Gondi in 1625. By it the community was bound to conduct missions for the country people, a time-consuming task. Ministering to the clergy would usurp some of the time that Vincent had already pledged (by contract and therefore in justice) to these mis-sions. That had appeared to him then as God's will and he had bound himself and the community to that for life. The fact that he could care for the spiritual needs of the people even more effectively by securing for them good priests did not seem, at least in the first instance, to stir him. It took the command of the arch-bishop to move him and his community into ministry for the clergy. Only this command offered him suf-ficient certitude that he was standing before God's will in taking up this new endeavor. Later on, however, he viewed this ministry as clearly being given by God. Development in his thought and convictions fol-lowed upon the expansion of the ministry itself. After the success of the retreats, he recognized the need for offering ongoing sup-port to the newly ordained. Thus, in 1633 he developed the pro-gram known as the Tuesday Conferences, a weekly meeting of diocesan clergy with a member of the community for prayer and reflection. And in 1636 he opened the doors of the Coll~ge des Bons-Enfants to young men who felt called to the priesthood. (This first house was for children, a minor seminary; in 1642, however, Vincent focused more on older candidates, supplying a program for major seminarians, an approach to formation which he had come to judge would be in the long run more effective.)22 The change in Vincent's view seems to have come, in part at least, by the reflections he had with his friend Father Bourdoise in the early 1630s. The latter had stated, "To give a mission is like giving a poor starving man a meal, but to set up a seminary is to aim at feeding him all his life.''z3 Vincent himself saw work for 'To give a mission is like giving a poor starving man a meal, but to set up a seminary is to aim at feeding him all his life.' September-October 1993 671 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today the clergy and the establishment of seminaries as a necessary com-plement of the congregation's work on the missions. Later Vincent regarded work for the clergy as equal to the con-gregation's call to evangelize the poor;24 he counseled his priests never to refuse to minister to the clergy on the pretext of giving missions to the poor;2s and, in the Common Rules of the institute, he listed formation of the clergy as one of the three purposes of the community.26 His retrospective understanding of his and the con-gregation's involvement in this ministry led him to tell his confreres: So, in the beginning, the company focused its energies only on itself and on the poor. At certain times of the year, it with-drew into its own houses, and at others it went forth to instruct the poor country people. God permitted nothing else to happen among us. But in the fullness of time he called us to contribute toward the formation of good priests, to give good pastors to parishes, and to teach them what they should know and doff7 Vincent's taking on the formation of the clergy as a God-given calling to him and the congregation offers a further insight into his spirituality: his way to God and way of ministering, always wed-ded to one another, were marked by a readiness to expand as well as by a fidelity to original intuitions and callings. There always remained possibilities for further invitations from the Lord; there was always the need for ongoing discernment. Having appreci-ated God's saving love as absolutely inclusive, Vincent was also compelled to include all suitable and necessary means of fostering the advance of that love. For him this was the only way of allow-ing the richness of God's wisdom and love to reach deeply into him and to reach others adequately through him. Having earlier experienced God in ministering to the poor, he came to experience that same God in greater depth and in more far-reaching ways as he entered ministry to and formation of the clergy. 3. Collaboration with Women: The Daughters of Charity Vincent was not a foreigner to the gifts of women in ministry. Early on, in 1617, while at Ch~tillon-les-Dombes, he became con-cerned about a family whose children and servants had fallen ill. For some reason the family found itself without even basic needs. In a sermon Vincent recommended the family to his congrega-tion and found his people more than ready to respond. As a mat-ter of fact, he discovered that a number of well-to-do women were eager to extend their charity to the needy. He provided them with 672 Review for Religious some guidelines, and the group became known as the Confraternity of Charity and served as a model for many similar groups that he established in villages where he gave missions. Soon, however, he discovered that peasant girls assisted these needy persons, especially in menial tasks, better than the well-to-do women did. They nursed the sick poor, instructed youngsters, and cared for orphans, refugees, the aged--in a word, the most abandoned. They too needed guidance, however, so that they would persevere in their ministry. The question soon posed itself: Where would he find capable mentors and guides for these devoted women? Toward the end of 1624 or early in 1625, a woman named Louise de Marillac sought spiritual direction from Vincent. She was a woman qf tender conscience, deep faith, and generous spirit. She lived a disciplined life of prayer while providing care for her sickly husband and difficult son. Before her marriage she had entertained thoughts of entering the convent, but had been dis-suaded by her spiritual director, who judged that she could not withstand the rigor of religious life. Vincent's early impressions of Louise were of her as an earnest, but dependent and scrupulous, woman. She often found herself troubled if he were not available to her for guidance. Concerns about the state of her soul, worries about her family, and recurring desires to enter a religious community after her husband's death (21 December 1625) were making her anxious and fretful. In her Vincent saw a person in need of judicious spiritual care, but also one quite gifted by God. Vincent's relationship with Louise and his advice to her are marked with the same spiritual convictions that we have noted in his own approach to God and to ministry: He counseled that she wait for God and not anticipate God's designs. But, more signif-icantly, it is in his letters to her that we read, for the first time, of his manner of relating to Christ and of how he saw the spiritual dynamics he lived by exemplified in Christ's life. He guided her to seek to live in Christ, encouraging her to model her life by the example and attitudes of Christ, in all moments and turns of events. For example, when, on the day after her husband's death, she con-fided to Vincent that she wished to serve God more freely, he told her not to make plans for the future until she had spent much time in prayer and reflection. He held her from what he regarded as premature commitments with the following counsel: September-October 1993 673 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today Always ho~ior the inactivity and the unknown condition of the Son of God. That is your center and what he asks of you for the present and for the future, forever. If His Divine Majesty does not let you know, in a way that cafinot be mistaken, that he wants something else of you, do not think about or let your mind become engrossed in that other matter. Leave it to me; I shall think about it enough for both of us.28 Given the fact that Louise was persistent, Vincent often found himself reiterating such counsei. On another occasion he wrote: Oh! what great hidden treasures there are in holy providence and how marvelously our Lord is honored bythose who fol-low it and do not try to go ahead of it. I recently heard one of the great men of the kingdom say that he had learned this truth through his own experience. He had never undertaken anything on his own except four things. Instead of their work-ing out well for him, they had turned out to his detriment. Is it not true that you wish, as is quite reasonable, that your servant not undertake anything without you and your order? And if that is reasonable from one man to another, how much more so from the Creator to the creature!29 Nevertheless, Vincent saw the need of helpers, active women helpers, who would visit the Confraternities of Charity in various villages to sustain them spiritually in their efforts. And Louise felt herself strongly moved in prayer toward direct service of the poor. On 6 May 1629 Vincent sent her to the Confraternity of Charity serving in Montmirail, recognizing, among other things, that the contemplative life would be fraught with dangers for her, while a life of active service best responded to the gifts God was giving her. His conviction that this decision was of God shines through his let-ter to her before her departure: I am sending you the letters and the report that you need for your journey. Go, therefore, Mademoiselle, go in the name of our Lord. I pray that his divine goodness may acc9mpany you, be your consolation along the way,., your strength in your toil, and, finally, that he may bring you back in perfect health and filled with good works.3° The journey of Vincent and Louise, however, was still to be made, with remarkable benefit for the church. Vincent had real-ized much earlier that a community of women who would sup-port one another in common faith, common life, and common dedication to the service of the most neglected would have advan- 674 Review for Religious tages like those of a community of priests. Perseverance in full-time Christian ministry suffered many threats without such support. Louise, too, desired community, her initial desires for religious life never having died. But once again Vincent moved with great caution, even slowness, in counseling and pursuing this develop-ment. His delay came partly from his awareness that the only way for women to live community life in his day involved being cloistered. For women to live an active community life in service of the poor would be regarded (particularly by the Holy See) as a radical inno-vation. Vincent necessarily had some fear that cloister would be imposed upon the women who would seek approval for the reli-gious community which he and Louise desired. The greater reason for his delay, however, was his desire to be assured that the plan to live their aspirations in community orig-inated in God. Resisting the urgency which Louise felt, he coun-seled: You belong to our Lord and his holy mother. Cling to them and to the state in which they have placed you until they make it clear that they wish something else of you.3~ And later he wrote to her: I beg you once and for all not to give it a thought until our Lord makes it evident that he wishes it, and at present he is giving indications to the contrary. We want a number of good things with a desire that seems to be of God, and yet it is not always from him . You are trying to become the ser-vant of those poor young women, and God wants you to be his own, and perhaps of more people than you would be in that way. And even if you were only his, is it not enough for God that your heart is honoring the tranquillity of our Lord's? Then it will be fit and ready to serve him. The king-dom of God is peace in the Holy Spirit; he will reign in you if your heart is at peace. So, be at peace, Mademoiselle, and you will honor in a sovereign way the God of peace and love.32 After all the hesitation, the searching and prayer, Vincent finally became assured that the movement toward ~ommunity was of God. He wrote to Louise in August or September around the year 1633: I think your good angel did what you told me . Four or five days ago, he communicated with mine concerning the char-ity of your young women. It is true; he has prompted me to Septentber-October 1993 675 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today recall it often, and I gave that good work serious thought. We shall talk about it, God willing, on Friday or Saturday, if you do not write to me sooner.33 And shortly thereafter, on 29 November 1633, the company of the Daughters of Charity was established. These developments clearly underscore Vincent's consistency in the way he understood God, understood himself and others, and attempted to respond to God. Resting in, seeking light from, and moving with God's spirit--moving in harmony with the man-ifest will of God--remained the way of Vincent and provided him with the energy he so clearly reveals in his labor for the kingdom of God. And finding inspiration and support in Jesus and in his way of life not only guided Vincent's development, but also was a con-tinued theme in his counseling of others. These developments, moreover, reveal in Vincent a humility and truth by which he recognized that the designs of God are far greater than one person or even one congregation can fathom or implement. Hence, he was unafraid to take up a multiplicity of works and to collaborate with a variety of persons in order to bring his inspiration into reality.34 In his journey with Louise de Marillac, one sees particularly his recognition that the gifts of women are needed for the building of God's kingdom.3s Only by blending his work and that of the congregation with the work and talents of his feminine counterparts would God's overflowing love spread through the world.36 The fostering of God's active, saving will among all persons demands many works, many talents, and many persons of varied gifts. Sharing of the gifts and collaboration in the vision would be the rule. The movements of God and God's will, clearly and prayerfully discerned, would be the energy. And the life of the church, the inclusion of the poor within its company, fully alive in God's Spirit, and the spiritual vitality of the church's ministers and servants would be the fruit. Final Years: Mature Reflections and Legacy Though Vincent's life and ministry' continued for nearly two and a half decades beyond the establishment of the Congregation of the Mission, beyond the first involvements in ministry to the clergy, and beyond the early solidification of the women's com-munity, the Daughters of Charity, the basic lines of his spiritual-ity had, with these events, already been drawn. During his final 676 Review for Religious years, he was able to articulate his vision with precision and clar-ity, providing disciples living then and others yet to come with the lines of a way to God and a life in Jesus that had proven ben-eficial for himself. Prayerful discernment of and fidelity to the will of God remained in first place in Vincent's final years as they had been throughout his life. Speaking to his "little company," he reminded them: The. most perfect man will be the one whose will is most conformed to that of God. Perfection consists in so uniting our will to God's that his and ours are, strictly speaking, but one and the same will and nonwill; and he who most excels on this point will be the most perfect.37 And a short time later he told his congregation: We know that our works are worthless if they are not living and animated by God's will. This is the advice of the gospel, which causes us to do everything for the sake of pleasing him. We must greatly praise his Infinite Majesty for the grace he has given to the company of undertaking this all-holy and ever sanctifying practice [of the will of God]. Yes, from the beginning we have all desired to enter into this way of the perfect, which is to honor our Lord in all our works.3s Given this experience and these convictions, he summed up his mind and counsel for all future generations in the Common Rule of the Congregation of the Mission: A sure way for a Christian to grow rapidly in holiness is a conscientious effort to carry out God's will in all circum-stances and at all times . It is in this way that we can imi-tate Christ, the Lord . He tells us this himself: "I always do what pleases the Father.''39 Harmony with God's will wa~ still, in Vincent's mind, of pri-mary import. Holiness and fruitfulness in ministry depended upon it. Ministry, evangelization, and .service of the needy were of spe-cial significance to him precisely because they fostered that will. The teaching of Benedict of Canfield was, to the end, in evidence in his explicit spiritual understanding. Second, Vincent left all a legacy of action, particularly active and effective concern for the poor. In an oft-quoted counsel to his priests, he exhorted them and us: Love God, my brothers, let us love God, but let it be with the strength of our arms and the sweat of our brow. For very September-October 1993 677 Luttenberger ¯ I~ncent de Paul's Charism Today often such acts of love of God, of complaisance, of kindness, and other similar affections and interior experiences of a lov-ing heart, although very good and very desirable, are never-theless very suspect when a person is not led to the practice of effective love. "In that," says our Lord, "my Father is glo-rified because you give account of much fruit." And this is why we must be very careful, for there are very many who, having a well-composed exterior and an interior filled with great love of God, stop there; and when it comes to action and they find themselves in occasions of doing something, they stop short. They flatter themselves with their inflamed imaginations; they are contented with some pleasant con-ve'rsations which they have with God in prayer; they even speak like angels; but, apart from that, when it is a question of working for God, of suffering, of mortifying oneself, of instructing the poor, of searching out the wandering flock, of loving one who lacks something, of receiving kindly illness or some other misfortune, alas! there is no longer anyone there, courage deserts them. No, no, let us not delude ourselves: Our whole task consists in working.4° In this strong conviction, one sees the long-standing influ-ence of Francis de Sales. Responsiveness to God's will, for Vincent, did not mean abstract contemplation. It meant listening to God in order to serve God's designs for the good of humankind, espe-cially the most deprived. Finally, however, it was the life, words, and example of Jesus that formed the context of Vincent's action as well as his search for God's will. It was the way of Jesus, and living in Jesus' Spirit, that offered Vincent the ideal and the power to unify this responsive-ness to God and this outpouring of ministerial love in a life filled with God. Only toward the end of his life do we find developed reflection on the powerful way living in the Spirit of Jesus had fashioned the spirituality of the saint. In a conference he exhorted his confreres: We must put on the Spirit of Jesus Christ. O Savior! O Gentlemen! There you have a grand undertaking, to put on the spirit of Jesus Christ! This means that in order to become perfect and to assist people effectively, to be of good use to ecclesiastics, we must labor to imitate the perfection of Jesus Christ and strive to attain it. It also means that of ourselves we can do nothing. We must be filled and animated by this spirit of Jesus Christ!41 And that there be no doubt regarding his understanding of this undertaking, he continued: 678 Review for Religious What is this spirit of our Lord? It is a spirit of perfect char-ity, filled with a marvelous esteem for the Divinity and with an infinite desire to honor him worthily. It is a knowledge of the greatness of his Father, which admires and extols it unceasingly. He has so high an esteem of it that he paid him homage with everything that was within his sacred person and which came forth from it; he attributed everything to him; he was unwilling to say that his teaching was his own teaching, but referred it to his Father: "My teaching is not mine, but that of the Father who sent me.". And his love, what was it? . . . Could there be any greater witness of love than by dying out of love in the way that he died? . . . His humiliations were but love, his work but love, his sufferings but love, his prayers but love, and all his interior and exterior operations were but reiterated acts of love . There you have a description of our Lord's spirit, with which we must be clothed; it is, in a word, having always a great esteem and a great love for God.42 Hence, the mature Vincent placed the following of Jesus as the fundamental goal of the congregation and as the basic theme running through the Common Rule of the institute. Sacred Scripture tells us that our Lord Jesus Christ, sent into the world to save mankind, began to do and to teach. He did the first when he perfectly reduced to practice every kind of virtue; and the .second when he preached the gospel to the poor and gave his Apostles and disciples the knowledge nee-essary for guiding people . Therefore, the end of the con-gregations is: (1) to strive for one's own perfection by exerting every effort to practice the virtues which the sovereign Master has been pleased to teach us both by word and example . 43 The counsel of Pierre de BSrulle, the constant call to live one's life immersed in the mysteries, of Christ, was woven throughout Vincent's life and permeated his teachings and counsel. He left no ambiguity for his followers about the basic ways of under-standing God and living in God's presence. Christ was that way of understanding; Christ was the way of life. The rule of Benedict of Canfield, the spiritual insights of Francis de Sales, and the spiritual doctrine of B~rulle had been lived and distilled so as to provide a guide and a source of inspi-ration to Vincent and to all who would make the journey of seek-ing and responding to the divine will that Vincent knew to be actively pursuing and transforming all persons, especially the poor. This he believed was the revelation of God in Jesus, and it was September-October 1993 679 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today the privilege of the Christian to walk with Jesus in experiencing and mediating that same salvific love. As a res~ult, Vincent described himself and his mission as one with the Lucan Jesus: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me; to proclaim good news to the poor, he has sent me.''44 His life's task, and the charism he has left us, was and is one of discerning that Spirit in prayer and community so as to mediate it effectively as servants of God's kingdom, especially among the poor. His prayer and discernment, his life and min-istry, were deeply characterized by patience and caution, on the one hand, and by selflessness and courage, on the other. Both sets of virtues were necessary to lead Vincent to be confident that he knew God and God's will in his decisions and in his labors. Both were needful for him to experience God--Christ--and God's unfolding salvific initiative in his own day. In being faithful to these gifts, he found himself faithful to God's will, to walking in Christ, and to mediating God's love, particularly to the poor. In being faithful to these gifts Vincent's own way of making the spiritual journey--he became a true mystic, living out what is rightly called a mysticism in action. And in showing us these gifts and this journey, Vincent de Paul also shows us a charism, a gift of the Spirit, which seeks expression in the church of today. Notes ~ Constitutions and Statutes of the Congregation of the Mission, 1984, article I. 2 Constitutions and Statutes of the Daughters of Charity of Saint Vincent de Paul, 1983, article 2:1. 3 Conferences to the Daughters of Charity, 14 June 1643 and 11 November 1657; Extract of a Conference to the Congregation of the Mission, January 1657, St. Vincent de Paul. Correspondance. Entretiens. Documents (hereafter SVDP), ed. Pierre Coste (Paris: J. Gabalda, 1920- 1925), 9:119, 10:332, 11:393. The first three volumes of this compila-tion have been translated into English by a team of sisters and priests, members of the Daughters of Charity and of the Congregation of the Mission. This English translation (hereafter ET) bears the title Saint Vincent de Paul. Correspondence, Conferences, Documents (Brooklyn: New City Press, 1985-). 4 For a recent analysis of this spirituality, see the introduction by William M. Thompson to Bdrulle and the French Schook Selected Writings, ed. William M. Thompson, trans. Lowell M. Glendon SS (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 32-76. See also Michael Buckley, "Seventeenth Century French Spirituality: Three Figures," in Christian Spirituality, III: 680 Review for Religious Post-Reformation and Modern, ed. Louis Dupr~ and Don E. Saliers (New York: Crossroad, 1989), pp. 28-32. s Buckley, pp. 28-32. 6 On this work and its influence, see Bucldey, pp. 29-30, and Luigi Mezzadri CM and Luigi Nuovo CM, "The Directors of St. Vincent," ed. and trans. John W. Carven CM, Vincentian Heritage 6 (1985): 173-175. 7 A Literary History of Religious Thought in France, trans. K.L. Montgomery (New York: Macmillan, 1930), 2:219. s Buckley, pp. 32-41. 9 For the influence of Pierre de Bdrulle upon Vincent de Paul, see Bremond, 3:193-222. ,0 Buckley, pp. 42-53; Mezzadri, pp. 177-178. ~ See below, note 40. ~2 The historical material is taken from Pierre Coste, The Life and Works of Saint Vincent de Paul (hereafter LW), 3 vols., trans. Joseph Leonard CM (Westminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1952). ,3 Conference on the Practice of Asking Permission, 27 July 1653, SVDP, 9:646. 14 Mme. de Gondi told Vincent (whom she had enlisted as her spirio tual director), that when she was young she herself had had such a painful experience. ~s Conference on the Observance of the Rules, 17 May 1658, SVDP, 12:8; Extract of a Conference on the Mission Preached at Folleville in 1617, ibid, 11:4. _ ~6 Contract of the foundation of the Congregation of the Mission, 17 April 1625, SVDP, 13:198. 17 De Paul to Codoing, 1 April 1642, SVDP, 2:246-247 (ET, 2:278). ~s Cited in Mezzadri, p. 176. ~9 See the letters of Vincent written during the years 1626 to 1633 to Louise de Marillac, cited in section three below. 2o Letter dated 1 May 1635, SVDP, 1:295 (ET, 1:276). In a similar, but less lyrical, manner, he counseled Jean Barreau, a brother of the con-gregation who, for some reason.unknown to u~,.had been imprisoned: "It is with great sorrow that I learned of your present state, which is a sub-ject of affliction for the whole company, but of great merit for you before God, since you suffer even though innocent . Our Lord, having descended from heaven to earth for the redemption of men, was also imprisoned by them. How blessed are you, Monsieur, to be treated the same way! . . . The more our actions and our sufferings resemble those of Jesus in this life, the more they are pleasing to God." Letter to Jean Barreau, 16 September 1650, SVDP, 4:81. 2~ A parishioner of Chfitillon recounted that Vincent's predecessors in that parish had kept women of ill repute and had frequented bars and gambling houses (Report of Charles Demion on the Sojourn of Saint Vincent at Ch~tillon-les-Domb.es, SVDP, 13:50). September-October 1993 681 Luttenberger ¯ Vincent de Paul's Charism Today 22 Letter to Bernard Codoing, in Rome, 13 May 1644, SVDP, 2:459 (ET, 2:505-506). See also SVDP, 2:152-154, 188 (ET, 2:171-173,214). 23 Citation taken from Coste, LVV, 1:259. 24 Letter to Louis Rivet, priest of the congregation, missioned in Saintes, 19 December 1655, SVDP, 5:489. 2s In a letter to a priest of the Mission, Luc Plunket, missioned at Saint-Meen, Vincent cautioned: "Do you not know, Monsieur, that we are equally obliged to form good ecclesiastics as to instruct the country peo-ple? And that a priest of the Mission who will work at one but not the other is only half a missioner, because he is sent to do both?" 21 May 1659, SVDP, 7:561. See also the conference of 6 December 1658, SVDP, 12:85. 26 1:3. Vincent composed these written regulations for the congrega-tion only after some thirty years had passed since the company had been established. 27 Conference gi~)en on 6 December 1658, SVDP, 12:84. 28 SVDP, 1:62 (ET, 1:54). See also LV¢', 1:204. 29 SVDP, 1:68-69 (ET, 1:60). See also LW, 1:204. 3o SVDP, 1:73 (ET, 1:64-65). See also Lgr, 1:207. 31 SVDP 1:79 (ET, 1:71). See also L/4z, 1:227. 32 SVDP 1:113 (ET, 1:111). See also LI.V, 1:227-228. 33 SVDP, 1:218 (ET, 1:216). See also LW, 1:230. 34 Though the works detailed thus far are the most well known of Vincent's endeavors, his energy and docility to the invitations of God led him to undertake and sponsor many others. These included labor in for-eign missions, aid to provinces devastated by war and famine, retreats for the laity, care of orphans and of the aged, participation in the coun-cil charged with the appointment of bishops, and the defense of the church against Jansenism. 3s Toward the end of his life, Vincent continued to affirm the impor-tance of collaboration with women in ministry. In a conference con-cerning the goals of the congreg~ition, he counseled his priests and brothers: "Was not he [the Son of God] pleased that women should be among his companions? Yes. Did he not direct them to perfection and to the assistance of the poor? Yes. If then our Lord has done this, he who did so much for our instruction, are we not persuaded that we are doing well in imitating him in this? . . . You know that even then [in the Apostolic era] there were deaconesses who did wonders in the church of God, . . . and thus God was served equally by both sexes; and shall we think that it does not belong to the Congregation of the Mission to procure that our Lord be honored and served by both?" Conference, 6 December 1658, SVDP, 12:86-87. 36 Though Vincent's labor for the establishment of the Daughters of Charity has been the principal focus of this section, he also entered into collaboration with other groups of women in various works of ministry in 682 Review for Religious the church, including the Visitation nuns and the Ladies of Charity of the H6tel Dieu, to mention a few. 37 SVDP, 11:318. 38 Conference on Conformity to the Will of God, 7 March 1659, SVDP, 12:154. 39 Common Rule of the Congregation of the Mission, 2:3. 40 Extract of a conference concerning the love of God, undated, SVDP, 11:40-41. 41 Conference on the Members and the Works of the Congregation, 13 December 1658, SVDP, 12:107-108. 42 Ibid, 108-109. 43 Common Rule, 1:1. ~ Luke 4:18. See SV'DP, 12:3-5, 79-81, 84-87, which are among many places where St. Vincent cited this gospel text. The Next Day The next day he sought her out. How to comfort a criminal's mother? He sensed her pain. Why did the temple priests want him killed? Had he really raised that man to life? She saw him scratching at the splinters in his hands, took them tenderly in hers and worked them free. The silences between their words grew longer. Here was home, yet time to leave. She touched a budding leaf. Thank you, Simon--her voice a whisper in his ear. Please come again. You've questions in your eyes that need to know. Yes, come tomorrow. Louise Finn CND September-October 1993 683 JOAN MUELLER A Franciscan Discernment ExperiencemPart Two MdY assignment was to teach graduate courses in spiritual irection during the coming school year and also in the following summer. In these courses I wanted to offer students an opportunity to explore discernment within the context of various charisms. Hoping to find reading material that might guide the study of discernment in the Franciscan tradition, I searched through various periodicals.~ In the 1984 volume of Review for Religious, I found "A Model of Discernment: The Experience of a Franciscan.''2 In the article Margaret Halaska OSF describes the process of discernment she used in making the transition out of community leadership and into a new form of ministry. The process involved personal prayer along with discussion and pondering with thirty people who knew her well. From these thirty, ten came to an evening of reflection that helped her refine her understanding of call. The result was not an outline of future ministry goals, but rather the next step, a year's renewal that would give her space to reflect on the path the Lord was choosing for her. The haunting leitmotif in her article is "personal poverty": "One of the elements of Franciscan discernment is the recognition of one's personal poverty and the' awareness that individuals are Part One of this article, by Margaret Halaska OSF, appeared in Review for Religious in 1984. Joan Mueller OSF teaches in the Christian Spirituality Program at Creighton University and is assistant professor of systematic theology at St. Francis Seminary; 3257 South Lake Drive; St. Francis, Wisconsin 53235. 684 Review for Religious inserted into a total world--one that is larger than oneself.''3 And again, "Recognition of personal poverty is one Franciscan princi-ple necessary for discernment. For me, this was very acute''4 (empha-sis mine). I cannot remember reading anything previous to this that res-onated so deeply within me that I needed to meet the author. While reading the articles, I felt as though I were listening to my own heart. When I looked at the author's profile, I found that Margaret belonged to the community whose motherhouse was across the street from where I worked. It was a strange and won-derful coincidence. One of my friends belonging to this community came the fol-lowing Saturday for supper. I told her of my excitement at read-ing the work of one of her sisters and begged her to provide me with an introduction. My friend started to cry. She told me that Margaret had been in administration with her, that they had been best friends, and that not long after her year of discernment she was found to have a brain tumor. It was evident that my friend was still grieving deeply. I assumed Margaret was dead and felt terrible disappointment. I asked when she had died, only to learn that she was still alive. She was in a nursing home in the city. I found her on the psy-chiatric floor of the nursing home sitting on the side of her bed. Her neck seemed paralyzed, so I sat on the floor to enable her to see me. I immediately told her my excitement about her article. We had a wonderful conversation. I promised to come back---and kept going to see her three, four, five times a week for the next year. Our visits were in some sense mundane. I would come from work and help her eat supper. Then I would help her wash up, brush her teeth, and go to bed. The mundane took a lot of time. Meals were usually a two-hour project. Helping her to brush her own teeth could take over a half hour. After Margaret was in bed, we would pray together. She would struggle to formulate a few words of prayer and then would be content to rest in God. One evening as she was preparing for bed, a eucharistic minister came in with Communion for both Margaret and me. Margaret wanted some time to pray, so we postponed getting her into bed. After receiving Communion we sat next to each other for a half hour in silence. I then opened my eyes and said, "Margaret, are you sleeping?" She said, "No, are you?" I said, "No." After another half hour of silence, we had the same September-October 1993 685 Mueller ¯ A Franciscan Discernment Experience conversation. After another half hour I said, "Margaret, you need to go to bed." Margaret's prayer was so simple. She tried to pray for every-one by name, but found that the world was too big. God gave her a solution to this dilemma: Mary. Margaret understood that it was Mary's role to stand before Jesus and tell him everything that Margaret needed--for the world and for herself. Prayer for Margaret was simply watching Mary and Jesus in this exchange. As her illness progressed, her voice became weaker. We communi-cated more and more through our eyes and through everyday tasks. I learned that feeding and washing hands were ways of listening to her heart. Her heart became more and more transparent. Once, when coming home after an evening with friends, I was reflecting upon my day. In contemplating the evening's interac-tion, I recognized that my contribution to the conversation was pri-marily about Margaret. I saw myself mirrored in the newly converted Francis, who went about the town of Assisi claiming that he had fallen in love with a most beautiful lady, Lady Poverty.s I also realized that, as with Francis, my excitement about this strange Lady was a mystery to my friends. This did not daunt my enthusiasm. I began to contemplate what was drawing me to Margaret's bedside day after day. It Was her poverty. The next day I simply told her, "I feel as though I have found Lady Poverty." She smiled. My experience was confirmed. Margaret's brain did not measure time very well. At first I thought this was a deficiency. As I listened, however, and got more in touch with her world, I realized that this sense of eternity was part of her beauty. With Margaret there was no past, present, or future. Rather, everything was a relationship. If we parted with a disagreement, what needed to be pondered and prayed about after-wards was the still-present feeling that all was not well between us, not who said what yesterday. What was important was the sister-hood between us. St. Clare would have agreed with this way of using time.6 Margaret talked to her food. The doctor gave her psychiatric medication for this habit. As she let me listen more and more to her heart, however, I too learned how to talk to my food. Margaret had been interested in the relationship between Native American spirituality and Franciscan spirituality. She learned from Native Americans how to listen to the movement of the Spirit in all of cre-ation. She saw all creation as enspirited. I invited a sympathetic 686 Review for Religious . nurse to see the mystery. Eventually Margaret was taken off the medication. As her sickness progressed and I helped feed her, we both understood the Spirit of the food. Margaret taught me how to see. For her, colors portrayed the deepest mysteries of life. She often expressed her heart simply in terms of color. Most of her last days were either purple (symbol-izing sorrow tinged with joy) or orange (joy tinged with sorrow). There were also four black days. The black days started on Christmas day. Margaret did not respond. Her eyes were a blank stare. I thought she was dying. Four days later one of the nurses pulled me aside to tell me that Margaret's condition was probably caused by depression, not by something directly physical. The nurse wanted me to try something. I went back into the room, closed the door, took Margaret's arm--the only extremity that was still working--and started to exercise it. I started growling and talking about how unfair life was. Her eyes made immediate contact. Life did seem unfair. She was only sixty years old. She was talented and bril-liant. She was so full of energy for the mis-sion. She was dying. The next day Margaret was radiant. She told me that she understood what the black days were about. She whispered, "They were about the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit." She said this over and over as if she was contemplating the mystery. I understood that she had been purified in the darkness for Trinitarian communion. I rejoiced and I wept. During the last days Margaret loved to be with those of us who loved her. She did not want to go back to the hospital. God asked of her even this wish. She died in the emergency room. I remembered the story of how Clare and her sisters wept at the death of Francis. Now I understand their tears.7 After Margaret's death a sister in her community gave me a copy of the manuscripts of her poems and essays. In one she recounts that during her year of renewal she had a dream in which she came upon a farmhouse. At the door was Lady Poverty. She Most of her last days were either purple (symbolizing sorrow tinged with joy) or orange (joy tinged with sorrow). September-October 1993 687 Mueller ¯ A Franciscan Discernment Experience realized in her dream that she truly loved and desired this Lady. At the same time another image, a beggar woman with crippled feet, hounded her prayer. She knew that God was inviting her to become this beggar woman; she resisted, hoping the beggar woman would go away. Finally in faith she said yes to the mystery. 688 Margaret's Story and Franciscan Discernment The discernment process that Margaret recounted in her arti-cle began in dialogue with others, in prayer, and in truthful assess-ment of her own gifts and the call of her heart. The discernment ended with an invitation to "live in a wigwam." This meant that Margaret was to spend her sabbatical time as a pilgrim exploring her call to personal poverty, to Native American spirituality, and to her love of the Franciscan charism. Practically, this translated into "a month's experience in a Franciscan Life Institute; extended time in Assisi; and ~xtended time on an Indian reservation.''8 This year of renewal was only the first fruit of Margaret's dis-cernment process. Her call was to personal poverty. None of those she discerned with were to take her into the depths of this mystery. Rather, she was introduced to the beggar woman with crooked feet. During her sickness Margaret became this beggar woman, dependent upon the thoughtfulness or thoughtlessness of others. As her illness progressed, she became crippled like the beggar woman of her prayer. Her legs and feet contracted so badly that they could not be straightened even after she died. Margaret's yes, her responsive determination to continually discern the will of God in her life, did not lead as she expected to a new form of ministry. Though this was a deep disappointment for her, heryes led her to surrenderat deeper and deeper levels every-thing of her heart that was not purely love. As I write, I expect to return to Creighton University for the summer and to teach discernment again. My students and I will explore the richness.gf discernment in the Catholic spiritual tra-dition and then concentrate on St. Ignatius of Loyola's Rules for Discernment. Without these I would not have been able to enter into Margaret's mystery. I have, however, learned from her that, after following the rules and the processes, one must simply sur-render to the Mystery. And so the Franciscan will not be surprised to find poverty the guide here. As Ignatius suggests in his third way of humility, surrendering Review for Religious to the mystery of the will of God invites one to choose poverty.9 This choice implies powerlessness, disrespect, abuse, joy, and free-dom. I took Ignatius on faith before I met Margaret. Now I have seen with my own eyes. As Margaret embraced the mystery of becoming the beggar woman, she became more and more grate-ful. She saw everything as an undeserved gift of God. Two squirrels playing outside gave her great delight. For her, all creation was a means by which she could praise God with gratitude and simple joy. It was Lady Poverty who brought her this grace.~° The mystery of discernment, the mystery of surrendering to the will of God, is both frightening and awesome. It is indeed "a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God" (Heb 10:31). Yet, as I watched Margaret suffer day after day, I saw that the glory of her spirit far surpassed her suffering. I learned through her that God cannot be.outdone in generosity. Margaret radically said yes to the will of God in her life. She understood discernment. After her careful searching for the will of God both in prayer and in dialogue with others, God invited her to become the beggar woman. In this invitation into personal poverty, Margaret discovered the will of God. Perhaps our discernment theory has emphasized active dis-cernment and not adequately explored the mystery of passive dis-cernment, something that cannot be easily categorized. One can watch it happening in another with grateful awe--and then be unable to exp!ain it to those who do not have the experience. The Franciscan tradition teaches, not by theologizing the mystery, but by telling stories about people who lived the mystery of saying yes radically to the will of God. In this tradition I offer the witness of Margaret for edification and imitation. One afternoon I asked: "Margaret, what does poverty mean to you?" She replied, "Poverty is a celebration!" I said, "Margaret, get real. For you poverty means this brain tumor. It means that you are living in a psych ward. It means that many of your friends do not understand you and have abandoned you." She looked on me with love and responded, "No, Joan, you are wrong. All that is hurt, but poverty is a celebration." " Margaret became this beggar woman, dependent upon the thoughtfulness or thoughtlessness of others. September-October 1993 689 Mueller ¯ A Franciscan Discernment Experience Notes ~ See, for example, Anthony M. Carrozzo OFM, "Francis of Assisi at the Crossroads: Elements of a Franciscan Process of Discernment," Review for Religious (July-August 1982)~ 551-556, and Evaristo Acosta Maestre OFMCap, "El Discernimiento de Espfritus y su Aplicaci6n segfin San Francisco de Asfs," Laurentianum 25 (1984): 415-448. 2 Margaret Halaska, "A Model of Discernment: The Experience of a Franciscan," Review for Religious (March-April 1984): 259-263. 3 Ibid, 260. 4 Ibid, 261. s "Legend of the Three Companions [3:7]," in St. Francis of Assisi: Omnibus of Sources, ed. Marion Habig (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1973), pp. 869-897. St. Clare, too, speaks of how she and her sisters bound themselves to Lady Poverty. See "The Testament [37]," in Clare of Assisi: Early Documents, ed. Regis Armstrong, OFMCap (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 57. 6 Clare advocated that her sisters understand themselves as exchang-ing the things of time for the things of eternity. See "The First Letter to Blessed Agnes [30]," in Clare of Assisi: Early Documents, p. 37. One's mind will be transformed in the mirror of eternity. See "The Third Letter to Blessed Agnes [12-13]" in Clare ofAssisi, p. 44. 7 See "I Celano [116-17]," in St. Francis of Assisi: Omnibus of Sources, pp. 330-332. 8 Margaret Halaska, "A Model of Discernment," p. 263. 9 Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola, § 167. 10 Gratitude, joy, and praise of God are fruits of poverty chosen or accepted. See "Sacrum Commercium [58]," in Francis of Assisi: Omnibus of Sources, p. 1590. 690 Review for Religious EDWARD FOLEY Ritual Leave-Taking Almost fifteen years ago the liturgical commission of my province developed a very effective--even moving--ritual for installing the new provincial leadership at our triennial assem-bly. With slight modifications this basic ritual is resurrected every three years as we hand over direction of the province to a recently elected provincial, vicar provincial, and three councilors. Like presidential inaugurations, such rituals of beginning often gener-ate a sense of optimism and trust among the participants and pro-vide strong affirmation for those assuming office. Our rituals for taking leave of elected representatives, be they civil or religious, are usually much less effective--if they exist at all.1 Outgoing United States presidents do stage various farewell events which allow the departing commander-in-chief to offer a valedictory address and mark his closing days in the White House. The real departure ceremony for retiring U.S. presidents, however, is the inau-guration of their successor. This poignant ritual requires the retiring president to be seen and not heard--ironically marking his own tran-sition to private citizenship by serving as the most honored of wit-nesses to his successor's elevation to constitutional powers. The understated poignancy of such presidential leave-taking almost appears rich when compared with the dearth of rituals to mark the transition of leadership in so many of our religious com-munities. In few other arenas of ecclesiastical life do we ritually cel-ebrate transitions in leadership so rarely as in religious life. Retiring pastors and bishops are usually feted with multiple cele- Edward Foley OFMCap is agsociate professor of liturgy and music at the Catholic Theological Union. His address is 5401 South Cornell Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60615 o5698. S~ptember-October 1993 691 Foley ¯ Ritual Leave-Taking brations marking their contributions to a local church and artic-ulating the gratitude of at least some of the people of God. Those who die in office are afforded the even more elaborate ritual leave-taking provided by the Order of Christian Funerals. Religious lead-ers who leave office at the commencement of a chapter or with the election of their successors, however, are often simply suc-ceeded or replaced. Seldom are they ritually honored or, more importantly, reincorporated into the community. The absence of such ritual leave-taking is more than a lapse in ritual etiquette. It is a lamentable, even detrimental, omission. The discernment of new leadership is often a moment of hope and goodwill within a religious community. This is especially true if, as in my own province, this process occurs within a gathering of all the members, all of them direct constituents. The psycho-logical lift of a fresh beginning, the affirmation by a large portion of the electorate, and the guiding promise of the Holy Spirit all contribute to a sense of optimism or relief which ordinarily allows the newly elected to be installed with an authentic sense of festivity. Given the very real, sometimes devastating problems facing major superiors today, however, such goodwill is often difficult to maintain. The financial (rises, all-consuming personnel problems, and special pressures arising from the incidents of public scandal that increasingly plague many religious communities contribute to an almost inevitable estrangement between religious leaders and the communities that called them to office. The strain that arises from the realignment of ministry priorities, fulfilling per-sonnel requests, and addressing issues of personal discipline takes an enormous toll on our leaders. Ironically, leadership that can begin with an affirming elec-tion often devolves into a position of devaluation. Those who pre-viously epitomized the center of the community are often marginalized or even shunned. Affirmation is increasingly replaced by criticism. An ordinary consequence of this process is burnout and alienation. Thus, our leaders are frequently absolved of their office with extended sabbaticals or with attenuated processes of return that sometimes take years. It is lamentable that communities like my own do not possess an adequate ritual vocabulary for marking the transition from lead-ership. This ritual lacuna prevents us from corporately acknowl-edging both the joy and the pain, the gratitude and the regret, associated with the ministry of leadership in contemporary reli- 692 Review for Religious gious life. Furthermore, our inability to ritualize such moments might even be viewed as a corporate sin of omission: rather than seizing a critical moment to welcome retiring leaders back into the heart of the community, our lack of action may actually allow or even encourage them to assume a life at the margins. The stress here on corporate ritual rather than individual ges-ture is quite intentional. While the kindness and support of vari-ous individuals in a religious community is essential if retiring religious leaders are to be effectively reincorporated into their communities, personal gestures of support from even a large number of individuals are insufficient. A religious community is more than an aggregate of individuals, and the call to leadership, while voiced by individuals, is ultimately from the whole body. Our leaders are responsible to and for all the members. Just as the beginning of leadership requires corporate affirma-tion, so should leave-taking be marked with a corporate response. The power of ritual should not be underestimated in these transitions. It is an ancient teaching of the church--and a recent maxim in some social sciences-- that rituals both express and create reality, or belief. It is not simply the election but especially the inauguration that creates a president; and it is not so much the electoral defeat as much as the inauguration of a suc-cessor that creates an ex-president. Similarly, it is not only the discernment but also the installation, consecration, or other order-ing ritual that in a real sense establishes one as a leader in our religious communities. Our current lack of rituals de facto cre-ates ex-leaders. The development of appropriate rituals of transi-tion could instead reincorporate these retiring ministers and, in the process, affirm, forgive, and welcome them. Ritually choreographing such an event is difficult. Varieties of personalities, corporate fatigue or even hostility toward the retiring leadership, and a minefield of unexpressed feelings on both sides complicate matters. No two leaders and no two transi-tions in leadership, even within the same community, are identi-cal. Consequently, it is necessary to develop a ritual pattern that is Just as the beginning of leadership requires corporate affirmation, so should leave-taking be marked with a corporate response. Septe~nber-October 199~ 693 Foley ¯ Ritual Leave-Taking open to adaptation as the occasion demands. On the other hand, developing a ritual pattern is important. Such a pattern, evoked year after year, discernment after discernment, announces that rit-uals of reincorporation are not simply designed for leaders that we happen to like or feel sorry for. Rather, they are. designed for the welfare of the community and the health of the church. The following is proposed as a model for ritualizing the rein-corporation of retiring religious leaders into the community that called them to office. It presumes significant adaptation in the light of concrete circumstances and needs. The context for the outline and commentary that follow is the opening liturgy at the triennial gathering of my own province, during which a new provincial, vicar provincial, and council are to be elected. The Ritual Context The ritual context for this model is Vespers. While other prayer patterns of the church might also provide an appropriate context for the reincorporation of retiring superiors, Vespers is particularly suited to this end for many reasons. First of all, unlike Eucharist, Vespers does not require any ordained clergy. Consequently, it is one of the official liturgies of the church that can be enacted by any group of women or men, lay or ordained, without recourse to presbyters, who may or may not be present within thee community. Second, while Vespers has certain minis-terial requirements and presumptions, the leadership can easily be cast in a more communitarian and less hierarchical fashion--as befits the worship 6f a religious community. In my own province, for example, instead of relying upon a former provincial, senior friar, or ordained brother to preside, it could be possible to call upon the youngest professed member of the province to assume this ministry. Thus the ministry models the moment: recalling that leadership is not a presumption of power, but an act of service and minority. Apart from the ministerial structure of Vespers, the traditional images and themes of evening prayer recommend its usage for this ritual reincorporation. For example, Vespers traditionally occurs at dusk, with the setting of the sun. Thus it is an ending rit-ual and provides an appropriate context for acknowledging the end of one's service in leadership. On the other hand, Vespers does more than announce the end of the day; it also anticipates the 694 Review for Religious presence of Christ through the night, a presence ultimately revealed at dawn. The images of hope and expectation, as well as the metaphoric parallel of the dawning of new leadership in a community, are obvious. Evening Prayer has a strong sense of thanksgiving, well epit-omized in the opening thanksgiving for the light and in the Magnificat. This thematic could easily be exploited to give thanks to God for calling people to leadership and for expressing grati-t- ude to those who have heard the call and answered with a willing heart. Yet, while there is a natural inclination toward thanksgiving at Vespers, the thematic elas-ticity provided by the various psalms, prayers, and readings allows for more than unabashed gratitude. The call to forgive-ness, the promise of eternal life, sacrifi-cial images, words of rededication--these and many other prayer instincts have a natural resonance in Eve.ning Prayer. Finally, Vespers lends itself to the rit-ual reincorporation of the retiring lead-ers of our communities because--at least in the West--it has a relatively simple yet flexible structure. Thus Evening Player can ritually tolerate the inclusion of a modest amount of other ritual activity--like gestures of reincor-poration-- without overwhelming or being overwhelmed by them. More specifically, Vespers is capable of allowing the inclusion of rituals like the renewal of vows, the sign of peace, and other acts of reconciliation and blessing and yet still clearly be Vespers. The central adaptation that I would propose for this ritual in my own province would be the additio